Dreams Come True

To Have A Heart

ೃ⁀➷ fluffvember calendar

ೃ⁀➷ beta read by @xiao6ao because she's a queen

ೃ⁀➷ scaramouche x gn!reader | angst - fluff / reverse comfort | even after his three betrayals, you never left him

Among the bed of flowers, he laid, breathing in the chilly breeze that shouldered his scattered thoughts. A seed of unease grew ever more deeply within his chest, a place where he always yearned for a beating heart to live. Yet no matter how hard he had prayed to the gods, his pleas were never heard. Instead, a dreadful emptiness had filled him, and followed him in every waking moment.

The grass beneath him prickled his back as the blooming petals drew closer to caress his arms, a bittersweet sensation he silently rested in as the glowing sun cast shimmering specks across his glistening face. Eyes drifting shut to the waves of a nearby river, he decided then that he’d let the melody of nature distract him from the burdens that seemed to weigh heavier on his chest with each passing day. He was almost at peace with his mind— that was, until he heard the familiar chirp of his name, frantic steps accompanied by earth’s crunch underfoot growing near.

"Kuni! Ah, I thought I was too late."

And of course it was you, the one person that constantly occupied his mind— more often than not against his will.

He couldn't escape you, he realized; even after his third betrayal, you trailed along behind him like a lost duckling in pursuit of its mother and hunted him down whenever he tried to flee. He couldn't fathom why anyone would go through such a hassle for a puppet— a defective puppet like him— but deep in his conflicted mind, he realized he lived for every ray of your light, no matter how adamant his calling became.

The smile you gifted him beneath every gaze, the food you would cook and plead for him to taste, the joyous laughter you blessed him with whenever he did something “funny” or made an expression you deemed cute; they were enough to turn his porcelain skin a cherry red, a color he tried to hide by turning away, tugging his veil closer to his tinted cheeks, though it did little to conceal his flustered self. His denial only seemed to encourage your antics, you poking and prodding at his cheeks before he inevitably gave in with a sigh.

He wanted to be mad at the world. He wanted to breathe hatred upon the creator that deemed him worthless, to never again entrust his fate in so-called family, to no longer find himself relying on the pathetic lives of those fragile and simple-minded mortals... but he couldn't, because you had yet to break your promise and abandon him as well. He was a needle, hanging by your everlasting thread, unable to cut the lines that held onto his every limb, unlike his former master.

Your figure cast a soft shadow across him as you came to a rest beside him and leaned over. Wisteria hues fluttered open to meet your beaming face— a face he was always so fond of.

You smiled. "I missed you, you know."

"Why?" He questioned without skipping a beat, startling you. A pained expression conquered his features momentarily as he thought of all the reasons why you shouldn't miss him. All the reasons why you should have long parted ways, yet... He turned to you, the grass beneath him balled into his fist, struggling in his tight grasp as hurt became evident in his words.

"Why haven't you left me... like all the others?" Your heart ached, daring to crack alongside his voice. He could do nothing but feel vulnerable under your watchful gaze, withering away like his resolve for a better life.

Fear bubbled in his chest as tears threatened to break free from his lashes, twisting every fiber within you. And it was then you realized, he was waiting. To him, he didn't see the need of you prolonging your time with him, waiting for you to end this fruitless game and to become his fourth betrayal so the pain of your departure wouldn't hurt so bad.

You sighed, melancholic eyes settling on the discarded vessel that was this boy. The warmth of your hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch, despite his conflicted feelings. If only he could rest in a grave of flowers with your touch for eternity. But eternity would be the death of him, because eternity will mark the death of you. Yet, eternity could wait, for every moment he spent with you was to be cherished like it was your last, but only in the absence of fear that tended to crawl agonizingly across his being.

You leaned in, capturing his shocked gaze as it glistened over with something akin to adoration, and Kunikuzushi swore he felt a fluttering in his chest when you whispered gently against his skin.

"Because," Your lips caressed his soft ones, stealing the worries and doubts he harbored and replacing it with a familiar yet foreign emotion. In seconds, he drowned in your embrace, sinking further into your hold and diving deeper into the love you poured out for him. It was like all his prayers had been answered with one action. And if such a blessing was weaved by false hope and deception, he would blindly follow it again to the very last flame and ember, and burn in your dying flame, marking his fourth betrayal.

No longer did he feel so hollow and empty or out of place, not when he had you to fill him with the beautiful waves of life, calming the raging storm that swirled in his head. Oh how he would hopelessly be washed away by everything you offered him, and he would die on this very hill if it meant he could relive this moment again with you.

He pulled you on top of him, pressing feverish kisses to your fleeting lips when you parted for air. You giggled, indulging him in a few more before you lifted yourself to look into his serene eyes, fingers sifting amethyst strands behind his ear. Three more words whispered gently, the feeling in his chest becoming clear behind the meaning of your confession.

"I love you."

And with that, you unknowingly gave him something his creator failed to do, weaving a ball of electro beneath the skin of his hollow form. He could feel it, the thrumming of life seeping through his being and sounding loud in his ears, another revelation dawning on him that it was in sync with the sound in your chest.

A heart, his heart, coexisting along with yours and fluttering just below your hand that rested on his figure. But how, how could a mortal bless him with something he shouldn't have? Something he couldn't have.

Because I love you.

Your declaration, your vow, your promise— it sealed away the darkness that had filled him, replacing the negative essence with something he craved all his life. Your last words broke the dam of his godly irises, beautiful currents of triumph spilling down his rosy chin.

"I love you, Kunikuzushi."

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First fic i've ever written has been posted ! Give it some love ^^!

An angel disguised in pink!

Aged up! No curse AU!Megumi Fushiguro x Jirai Kei! Reader

Summary : Megumi just turned 21, and has already received an invite from Gojo Satoru - to go drinking. It's Gojo, after all. He's seeing faces he vaguely remember from college, but fresh faces were uncommon, even in a Gojo party. You, dressed like an angel in pink, piqued his interest.

WARNINGS : people getting DRUNK, you can tell i've never been to a party and drank, mentions of addiction to host clubs, a smudge of angst maybe if you squint really hard, mostly fluff though

Word count : 1.4K (it's so short!!)

AUTHORS NOTE!!: Hello everyone... I started writing this like yesterday and wasn't aware today was his actual birthday..... ALSO this is my first time writing and i'm not 100% in my english..!! I'm not familiar with posting on tumblr as a whole, so with the layout and all that, i'm not quite familiar. Please give me some leeway with that kind of stuff. also, my laptop kind of broke while i was trying to post this, so im typing this from my touchscreen ipad. It's a little annoying, but oh well..

This was also LIGHTLY inspired by @lokissweater 's mlb megumi... i know its not anything close to their levels of writing, but i was kinda inspired to write megumi for my Landmine reader from her and how she writes Megumi.

I talked too much, i'll just let you read it already ^^"...

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The club Megumi found himself in wasn’t particularly big, but it buzzed with energy. The space was packed with familiar faces—classmates, acquaintances, and a handful of people he’d crossed paths with at one point or another. As soon as he’d turned 21, Gojo had dragged him along to this club, boasting about it being owned by one of Geto’s many “connections.” What Gojo failed to mention was that it was a private party. Not that it mattered much; Megumi realized he wasn’t exactly out of his element.

Most of the crowd blurred together as people he vaguely recognized, but there were a few exceptions. Two were Shoko’s friends, chatting animatedly by the bar. The third was a girl—you—whom Megumi didn’t recognize at all. The strobe lights bathed the room in eye-numbing neon green, but even through the haze, the soft pink of your blouse stood out.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and when your eyes met, you offered a small, awkward smile accompanied by a polite nod. Megumi’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks warming with the faintest blush—thankfully hidden by the poor lighting. Still, he managed a curt nod in return, stiff and reserved as ever.

Nobara, watching the interaction from her spot by the bar, smirked to herself. She’d invited you along partly because she knew you enjoyed the club scene, but mostly because an idea had begun forming in her head. You… and Megumi… Yeah, that had potential.

While most of the party (including a very drunk Gojo and Shoko) had taken over the dance floor, Megumi stayed firmly planted at the edge of the chaos, arms crossed. He sighed, his gaze flicking between the reckless dancing and his untouched canned beer.

Adults.

Gojo, currently in a drunken dance battle with Itadori, was reason enough for Megumi to swear off drinking tonight. Witnessing the sheer level of intoxication his mentor had achieved was enough to keep him sober.

Lost in thought, Megumi didn’t notice you approach until he felt the chill of a bottled green tea press against his arm. He startled slightly, turning to find you standing beside him, a tentative smile on your face.

“Figured you might want this. You didn’t touch your beer all night,” you said, holding out the tea.

For a moment, he just blinked at you, caught off guard. Then, taking the bottle, he muttered a quiet, “Thanks. Uh…”

“Oh, right. Um, I’m Y/N.” You dug into your pink MCM bag before pulling out a similar bottle of green tea for yourself.

“So… you’re not a fan of alcohol?” you asked, idly adjusting the lace on your skirt.

Megumi shrugged, taking a sip of the tea. “Not when Gojo’s around. Someone’s gotta stay sober enough to drag him home.”

“Fair enough. He does seem… like a lot.” You cast a concerned glance at the “honored one” himself, doing the Worm on the floor.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Megumi said, the corners of his lips lifting subconsciously. For the first time, he felt like he was actually enjoying himself that night.

A comfortable pause settled as you both observed the other guests.

“You’re… friends with Nobara, right?” Megumi turned his attention to Nobara, who was on the dance floor with a cocktail in hand, her face flushed red from the alcohol she’d ingested, and a feather boa draped across her shoulders like something out of a ’90s movie.

“Yeah. She dragged me along tonight. Said it’d be fun. And I just figured I’d come over and say hi since you looked kind of… out of place.” You laughed softly, his plain shirt and baggy jeans a stark contrast to the vibrant, flashy outfits in the room.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a small sigh, running a hand through his hair he hadn’t cared to style.

“A little. You’re the only one here who looks like they’d rather be anywhere else.”

“I’m just not big on crowds. Or neon lights. Or drunk people.”

Another moment of silence passed as you nodded in understanding, observing the dance floor growing even more chaotic.

“You seem like you’re enjoying this,” Megumi said, cocking his head toward the unfolding disasters (Geto spilling his drink onto a very pissed-off Nanami).

“I, uh, I’m used to the nightlife. I used to frequent a lot of bars and nightclubs.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Used to? You don’t anymore?”

You hesitated for a moment, swirling the green tea bottle in your hands. “Not as much, no. I… got addicted at one point, I guess. I was filling a void in myself. But I realized it wasn’t healthy.”

Megumi’s expression softened, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to curiosity. “Addicted?”

You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Not just clubs—host clubs, mostly. I’d go out all the time, spending way too much money just to be around people who’d tell me what I wanted to hear. For a while, I thought it was fun, but… I guess I was filling a void. They hook you in, you know? They leave you alone, and when you start getting desperate, you spend more.”

He frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Host clubs?”

You glanced at him, gauging his reaction, and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know. It’s not the most… admirable thing. But when you’re feeling empty, it’s easy to get addicted to the attention. They make you feel special, even if it’s just an act.”

Megumi took a moment to process your words, his gaze steady but without judgment. “What made you stop?”

You smiled faintly, your expression a mix of self-awareness and vulnerability. “I realized it wasn’t real. I was paying for affection, not earning it. And honestly? It wasn’t making me happy—it was just a distraction. So I quit and started focusing on myself. It’s not easy, but… I’m trying.”

He nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “That… takes a lot of self-awareness. Most people wouldn’t even admit they were doing it to fill a void.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks. I’m not sure if it’s self-awareness or just running out of money.”

That earned a soft chuckle from Megumi, and for the first time that night, the tension between you eased.

“What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus. “You don’t seem like the type to… well, pay for attention.”

He leaned against the wall, thinking. “Not really my thing. I guess I’ve always been more focused on the people I already care about.”

You nodded, impressed by his grounded perspective. “Must be nice. Knowing you’re enough without needing to hear it from someone else.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “I think everyone needs to hear it sometimes. Just… not in that way.”

A quiet moment passed between you, the chaotic energy of the club fading into the background.

Finally, you broke the silence with a teasing smile. “So, if clubs aren’t your thing, what is? What would you do for fun?”

“Honestly?” Megumi said, his lips quirking in a rare smile. “Probably stay home with a book or go to a quiet park. Somewhere peaceful.”

You grinned, leaning closer. “A book and a park? You’re a walking cliché.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t seem annoyed. “And you’re not, Miss ‘Host Clubs for the Guys’?”

“Touché,” you said, laughing softly. “But hey, if you ever get curious, I can recommend a few places.”

“Pass,” he said, shaking his head, but the amusement in his voice made it clear he wasn’t dismissing you.

“Your loss,” you teased, taking another sip of your tea. “But seriously, thanks for not judging me. Most people wouldn’t be so… understanding.”

He looked at you, his expression earnest. “Everyone’s got their reasons.”

Your chest tightened slightly at his words, and you found yourself smiling in a way you hadn’t in a long time. “You’re a lot deeper than I expected, Megumi.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, but there was warmth in his tone.

And just like that, the club felt a little less overwhelming, and the two of you felt a little more connected. Fein by Travis Scott played in the background of the packed bar at 1:23 a.m. Gojo and Geto slumped over each other groggily as the alcohol took its toll. Itadori darted around, still inexplicably full of energy, while Nobara stood barefoot, heels in hand, complaining to Maki. 

Somehow, amidst the chaos, this moment felt peaceful.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

(I hope everyone liked this... I probably will write a continuation or maybe make it a series when i have the time to.)

marry me

gojo satoru x reader.

or, in which, due to a coincidental circumstance, gojo asks you to marry him.

"i think you ultimately become whoever would have saved you that time no one did."

"then don't save me."

based off of this drabble . everyone liked it so much that i decided to finally write it XD i hope you all enjoy !!

ch 1. tossed like a salad (coming soon!!)

as a new student of jujutsu sorcery, you are sent as a transfer student to japan to help out over there. what you didn't realize was how much stronger the cursed spirits are there...

ch 2. hyperactive new recruit

chapter summary coming soon.

ch 3. dropkicked through the ceiling

chapter summary coming soon.

taglist

@05-simply-06-simping @astraea-xx @miizuzu @passw-0-rd @hachichann @yozora7154 @myahfig4 @poepoesstuff @twinkletfout @hibsjebwj @connorsoddsock @typsichryle @ohio-gyatt-mega-sigma-rizzler @stromynight @serra10 @shehrazadekey @fos-tis-zois @miskwaadesiwag @minzxec @stickyjellyfishcoffee @driftawayomnichord @maximumuzuamy @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots @ittoscumdump @oceanparadiseblvd @stormeye111 @noodles-icetea @seternic @livelaughloveisagiyoichi @xxsorano @akit4 @simpingismygame @username23345

Basically, I tagged everyone who asked to be & everyone who said to please make it into a fic ヽ(*´▽)ノ♪ if you didn't want to be tagged pls let me know

also, want to be tagged? then pls comment (ゝω・´★) here or on the drabble that this fic came from <3

and pls note that some people couldn't be tagged due to "no blogs found" this can be fixed in your settings (´ε｀ )

Wriothesley can hear your loud stomps from a mile away as you furiously speed-walk to his office door like a bloodhound trailing a scent. Even if not for that, the way that you bang your fist on the door is enough to grab his attention.

"WRIOTHESLEY." Comes booming in from the other side of the door. It's thick wood. He wonders how deaf he would have gone if the door hadn't protected him. The door (the thick, supposedly impenetrable door) rattles on its hinges like a screen in a hurricane when you try to kick it again. "DID YOU EAT MY DONUTS."

It's not even an accusation at that point. It's practically a declaration of war.

"WRIOTHESLEY!" You yell so loudly a group of gardes turning the corner down the hall scramble back the way they came. "Open up, jackass!"

Wriothesley, knowing he cannot escape the consequences of his actions, merely settles deeper into his chair as he drinks his tea. His last meal. Drink. Similar thing.

The door keeps rattling as you yell profanities at him, until one of his traitorous gardes approaches you hesitantly, saying not a single word but offering up the spare key to his office with shaky hands, head low and aggressively avoiding eye contact.

"Oh!" you say, demeanor switching immediately, losing the intimidating glint in your eye as you gingerly take the key. You smile kindly. "Thank you very much!"

Then you turn back to the door, the threat of violence in your eye as you wield the key like a weapon of war, inserting it into the keyhole and twisting it with a dark finality. The garde wonders if they should fear for their superior's wellbeing.

Wriothesley looks up from his newspaper as you close the door ominously behind you, somehow maintaining a blasé facadé even while staring down certain death.

"Well?" you prompt him, eye twitching like a stressed villain from a kid's cartoon show. You round on him in an instant, too quick for him to escape. Somehow, he keeps up his poker face. "Care to explain where my donuts went, Duke of Meropide?"

"I didn't eat them," He deadpans, staring you right in the eye. He pointedly does not acknowledge the white powdered sugar on his face.

"There's white powdered sugar on your face."

"Ah. So there is."

Another cartoony villain eye twitch. "Want to try that again?"

"...I love you?"

"And I love you. Last chance, though."

And he folds like a lawn chair. Wriothesley knows this is a fight he can't win. Even Neuvillette would tell him it's best to just kick the bucket and plead guilty at this point. He sighs breaking eye contact first like a wolf with its tail between its legs.

"Okay, I'll buy you another dozen of them."

You cross your arms, staring at him. He sighs.

"Another two dozen."

You soften just the slightest bit, coming close to perch on his lap and lean into his space. Instinctively, his arms come to wrap around your middle, pulling you against him.

"And?"

Wriothesley leans forward too, enough for your foreheads to touch. You can feel the breath of his sigh against your lips.

"And you have my sincerest apologies for taking your things. In my defense, I thought they were mine at first.”

“Apology accepted,” you say, satisfied, and peck him quickly on the lips. Before it can turn into anything else though, you’re springing up from his lap. Ignoring the disappointed furrow in his brow and the way his arms have still not moved from their position holding you earlier, you take his hand and pull him up from his chair with such startling enthusiasm and surprising strength that it has him stumbling for a second. You pull him towards the door regardless.

“C’mon, you’re making good on that apology right now, Wrio! Hope you finished your work!”

And no, technically he hasn’t finished his work. But he already knows that you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and that pushing that work to tomorrow wouldn’t hurt. Probably. Whatever— it’d be worth it.

So he just sighs and gives the palm resting in his a squeeze and let’s himself be pulled along. You squeeze back.

“As long as you let me have a few. Those were pretty good.”

ahhh just some wanderer brain rot not proofread!! and reader wears a skirt :3

"be quiet... and stay still." he whispers as you squirm a bit in your place. he has you sitting on his lap facing him in the library of the sumeru akademiya, the house of daena, while he's working on his vahumana papers. the few passerbys simply think that you're both just a cute couple that wanted to be near each other at all times. little do they know you're actually cockwarming him. thankfully, your skirt had enough length to cover up the truth of it all. "why do i have to do this again?" you ask him, "because it help me focus, now hush." he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you even closer to him, resting his chin on your shoulder to peak over and read the text written on his papers.

whenever someone is nearby, he'd tease you by lifting your hips up a bit and thrusting up. it takes every fiber of your being to hold back that moan, archons, why does he always have to hit that one spot at the perfect angle each time too? and whenever you clench around him, he lets out quiet groans directly into your ear. sometimes even with a small whimper, calling you a tease and all that. if you were being good throughout it all, rest assured that you'll get a reward from him right after that. oh he's gonna fuck you sooo good, don't you worry.

Another nurse has arrived! 🧪

Should’ve read the fine print...

Minors DNI

Warning(s): NSFW, dubcon

Fem!Reader

Authors Note: First time; necessary feedback, pls! Taking requests!

It’s been about a week since you’ve moved into your new apartment. Everything about it was perfect except for one thing: you’ve explored every room but one, which was locked for some reason. (If only you had read the entire catalog ad, you would’ve understood why and that all past tenants never stayed too long). You complained about it to your landlord, who hired a locksmith free of charge, thankfully. This is what your actions have come to, sadly: you, standing before hundreds of slimy, purple tentacles, coming from all around the mystery room.

You try and back away quietly toward the door in hopes of being able to leave unnoticed. Pitifully, the floorboards creek(damn, this shitty building). The tentacles immediately move in your direction as you run for the door, only to be blocked off by more tentacles. They push you to the ground and squeeze around your arms and legs, probing at your torse.

They’re not hurting you; they seem pretty curious, actually. The tentacle's touch is soft and gentle. One tentacle stops at your face...it’s...caressing your cheek? Their touches were seemingly affectionate at first but quickly became provocative. They began to slip under your clothes, feeling you up.

Again, their touch was gentle but still violating nonetheless; they groped your breasts, sucking on your nipples and coiling around them. You try and keep as much dignity you have left, biting your lip to hold back your moans. The tentacles seem to sense your defiance and dislike it very much. They tear through your clothing, leaving only your thin panties to cover you. They curl around your thighs, spreading your legs to tease you, rubbing against your clothed cunt, and nuzzling your clit; their suckers find it and abuse the little bundle of nerves.

A blissful whine escapes your lips; you can’t remember the last time you felt this good. The tentacles stroke your body with satisfaction, assumingly rewarding you for your submission. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your sense of dignity is long gone by now; you’re a wailing mess. Hair sticking to your sweat-coated skin, tear-filled eyes rolled up into your head, and while your mouth hangs open with a bead of drool leaking from the side.

The tentacles can sense your arousal, not to mention your drenched underwear. They move your panties to the side and continue to toy with your aching pussy, stroking your wet hole and sucking on your sore clit until you cum.

The tentacles let you catch your breath, lovingly massaging your body. Soon enough, you’re suspended in the air as more tentacles hold you, creating a makeshift bed to place you comfortably. Another tentacle approaches your face again, latching itself to your mouth and pushing past your lips to curl around your tongue. Is this its way of kissing you? Is it showing affection?

It’s a bit gross, but the tentacles mean well. Your body suddenly jolts as you feel a tentacle push against your sopping hole. It uses its suckers to tease you again, but as you grind yourself against it, the tentacle penetrates you, pressing against your walls to search for your sweet spot. The tentacle in your mouth begins to thrust in and out as you feel another tentacle enter your ass. The tentacle in your pussy moves rhythmically with the others as it’s sucker hit your g-spot. At this point, your mind is nothing but mush. All you see are white spots as your legs quake under the tentacles, unable to hold yourself up longer.

The tentacles wrap around your waist and lift you. You’re now ass up, face down, and being fucked mercilessly in all three holes. You can’t take it; it’s too good, too much, too many. You feel more tentacles enter your already full holes. Doesn’t this monster know you have a limit?

It doesn’t care, really. All it wants is to see you cum, and cum, again. You can feel yourself getting dizzier after each orgasm, one after another. Before you know it, you’re waking up from your fucked out haze. The tentacles seemed to have stopped fucking your brains out a while ago; they’re all curled up around your protectively, some still inside you. You try and crawl towards the door, but you’re body is useless at this point.

The tentacles drag you back to them, curling around to massage your worn-out body. It seems you won’t be leaving this room any time soon...or ever.

...

Might as well move your stuff in here.

a/n. self proclaimed drabble, yall i got horny with a hanma shuji bot and i got inspired, then i thought of toji, geto, scaramouche, then more scarred, traumatized hot men - my type is so fucking... fucked, btw alhaitham and scara fic soon

cw. smut is minimal (kinda), trauma, mention of loss, angst, comfort, fluff at the end, no pronouns, mentions of female genitalia, your fave character healing because of you oau!

"Love you so goddamn much, doll." Scarred men experiencing being so in fucking love again, in between a heated, love drunk tongue kiss with you, their hands controlled yet frantic, scared to rip off your clothing while wanting to touch every inch of your skin, dread and excitement stirring inside him from the new feelings of overwhelming familiar love, the seriousness of the growing bond between the two of you, the love accompanied by memories of being hurt again, churning his stomach and making his heart pound like crazy.

The thought of someone having to care for, making his veins run cold, while at the same time warming his heart, his cock, shitty futures that were waiting for them, drowned and washed away, replacing the repeated future fate had in store for him with the imagery of your abdomen with his cock inside you, sliding back and forth against your pussy that was taking him so well, cock thrusting in so good that he cums accidentally again, feeling your creamy walls pulsate against the sensitive part of his tip, his legs almost giving out, holding- clinging onto you, onto the future where he puts himself in one knee before you, onto the future where he sees you walk in a white dress you were going to be so happy in, onto the future where he promises his vows to you.

Seeing your flushed, pretty face cry before him, taking his cock so well while his seed pumps into your womb, weakly thrusting, hips convulsing uncontrollably as he hugs your leg that was over his shoulder, unable to control his consciousness as he mirrors your babbling, chanting mindlessly 'damn you damn you damn you' accompanied with grunts, cursing and internally giving you his fucking word that you're his, forever his, claiming you — starting with his cum that he thrusted back into you when his honed stamina returns after a few pants, beginning round 3 as his fingers slap your thigh, jolting you awake before grabbing both of your ankles up together, putting you up like a trophy, his trophy, his prize, his posession.

You just had to be so sickeningly sweet to him, didn't you? So genuine about your affections, words coated with truth that they weren't used to in his life of constant torment, suffering and death.

His first serious relationship showed him that the world is kind enough to let a love like this exist for a person like him, and then the death of his first love, will be a reminder that things can easily, so easily be taken away from him if he took them for granted, and with you, learning from his mistake, from the lesson fate taught so unnecessarily to him — may he burn, let him be damned, begging a higher entity that he didn't believe in for a purgatory if he let someone rare as you slip from his fingers again.

Hell, he was accustomed with, death, an advocate to him, and you threatened that fear of those two things he was so used to, and it was laughably without a trace of violence, a malice, greed, a lust with ulterior motives he wss used to.

“Damn you,” he curses- no, he promises.

To give you a generation for your kindness to be remembered, to say whatever positive that comes to mind without being hesitant anymore, to cherish you, to make you feel that way every fuck, every date, hangout, every sleep he can get with you, every single day he can come back to you, to fucking love you, even if you thought his love was 'more than enough.'

No, impossible, shit will never be enough, not to the god forsaken universe that took his first happiness, no amount of love will bring back his first love, so he used his learned lesson, to pour every kind of affection to you in all of his glory, no more hesitancy, no more fucking half assed shit, doubts and nonexist untruths that he spent on wondering, arguing about with his past lover, instead of focusing on loving her.

He won't thank fate for letting him try with someone as precious as you again, to dwell about useless things, instead, he'll focus on you, he'll thank you, for being so damn understanding each time he attempt to push you away, but you persist and not long after he realizes immediately that was near grave of him to do, giving him an episode against your arms as he kneels down against you, for you, hands clutching- grasping onto you for dear life to not leave him, over and over.

You were his second serious relationship, but he sure as hell won't love you like a second — and his words, his actions WILL prove that, his affections will be apparent, full of intent, every move is with purpose, every syllable is labored with a resolve.

The moment you overthink, will be an offense to his desperate pleas for your love, his devotion, his desire for your attention, your doubts wounding him, future scars being created by internal turnoil against him, your lies being his demise, threatening his vulnerability that can easily slip infront of you, and the moment you choose infidelity — will be the moment where he is finally convinced that death, will be his one and only.

A solace of the unknown, an escape to fate's smug boasting, jeering about someone like him having no rights to happiness from the amount of sins he's accumulated, to having no right in tasting a love he internally sought out for.

Shit, his post nut clarity really does hit him hard though, but good thing you were always there for him, snapping him out of his trance with an 'I love you' accompanied with your lips pecking his with a smile he adored so much, showering him with an automatic affection, giggly kisses all over him.

“Love you too, doll. So, so fuckin' much.”

— Hanma Shuji, Ken Ryuguji (Draken), Fushiguro Toji, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Scaramouche, Wanderer, Rengoku Shinjuro, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Dracule Mihawk, Blade, Luocha, Otto Apocalypse, Kalpas, Kevin Kaslana, Ban, Jumin Han, V (MysMe), Hyun Ryu (MysMe)

☰ RETURN TO MAIN MENU

2023 HIRAETHSDESIRES. Do not copy, translate or post my work to other platforms/websites/apps.

Reblogs w/tags and comments are heavily appreciated.

tags ! @ainescribe @sleep-deprivedracoon @ciarchivez @teapartyspilled @wanderingconstellations @kyouko-writes @antimatterz @hitomisuzuya @serenitiiy @scaraswh0re @scara6 @kazushawty @oreo-creampie @520cafe @flametrashira @renhoeku

(swear to god i feel like im forgetting a lot of ppl to tag)

• great, now i have to make one piece, mystic messenger, seven deadly sins and honkai impact masterlist

• "drabble" my fucking ass, also this makes me wanna write a focused smut of this lmao (dont pressure me tho ty ily muah)

• did i write the smut well? - a 19 year old virgin, burnt out, hormonal, degenerate, gamer, writer, retired performer shut in

Woke up to 20 likes. Thank you everyone ^^…

Another part will be posted soon…!!!

I plan for it to be a angst w comfort but i’ll see how that goes (＞人＜;)

Summoning for Dummies

Pairing: magician!Reader x Tentacle Monster

Tags: Tentacle bondage; double penetration; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; occasional resistance from the reader and fucked while unconscious, therefore dubcon; tentacle blowjobs; obscene amounts of come

Reader: afab; no physical description except for what is needed in smut; is not referred to by any name

Words: 4551

Summary: Lazy afternoon summoning gone wrong right.

A/N: Reader attends an academy for magicians in this story. You can safely assume that all attendees of said academy are of age.

Yes. You should've paid more attention in your spells class. Yes, if you had taken your time and read the whole paragraph, you would've figured out that the number in that spell didn't indicate the hours the portal would last but rather how many of them there would be. And yes, if you had gone into this with a little more common sense, maybe—maybe—you wouldn't be hiding under your bed right now with a fuckton of tentacles flailing out of your bedroom floor.

But hey, no one's perfect.

Once again, you tapped your fingernails against the wooden floor—click-click-click. From here, you could merely see the base and the portal from which they spawned. But auditory sensations didn't seem to have an effect on them. Deaf tentacles.

From up above came occasional thumps. They kept bumping into stuff on the bookshelf, had already sent your moon water and one of your carnivorous plants flying to the ground (so long, Casper). So, either, they were blind, too—or they just didn't give a single fuck about manners. But you tried to be optimistic here and went with blind. That thing clearly outdid you in appendages, but you had all the senses on your side. And home court advantage. Now, all you had to do was close the portal and hope that it'd take the tentacles away with it. If not—well, that was a problem for future you.

Peering at your phone lying next to the spell book, you bit your lip. The group chat was still open. You could ask for help. But given how it had only been a month since the self-propagating slime incident and your friends were still giving you shit about it, you quickly discarded that idea. How would you even gonna explain this? Hey, so, I kinda wanted to summon a single tentacle for the weekend because it's a fucking Saturday and I'm horny and instead I got about twenty because I can't read properly when faced with the prospect of vaginal orgasms.

Yeah, no. You would be taking this to your grave.

A thud above you made you flinch. A tentacle had bumped into the headboard. How did they even work? Probably had to feel out everything in their surroundings. Touch, graze, probe. If one didn't have eyes, what else was there to do? They had to be big on warmth. On detecting surfaces, wet, dry, rough, smooth. You held your breath as you saw another tentacle slithering over the ground, inches away from your face.

The thing was: You had no fucking clue what you had summoned. Tentacles weren't that well researched, yet. It was known that they came from a different realm and that they probably had some kind of spawning point where they came together. A head, a center for their nervous system, something like that. But no one knew what their deal was. What nutrition they needed, how they procreated, why they even came to be.

A part of you—the stupid, bold part, that liked to free-style potions, annoy the professors with imaginative theses and try out new spells with no back-up or supervision—was intrigued. You could be the first one. The first one this up-close with an unresearched organism. Uncharted territory. Go where no magician has gone before.

For a brief moment, you were already seeing yourself on the front page of the local newspaper, shaking hands with the principal after having published a paper on tentacle behaviorism—and then plant number two joined Casper's remains on the ground.

Yeah, fuck that. Time to say goodbye, you little suckers.

Teeth gritted, you flipped the pages in the spell book in front of you, trying to decide on a course of action. But none of this sounded right. And you really, really didn't want to make things worse.

Something grazed the ankle of your foot. You kicked it off, hoping the spider would go about its way and leave you in peace. You had to concentrate. But seconds later, the sensation was back. Something creeped up your leg. Sliding under your sweatpants. Crawling up further and further. When you looked behind you, you saw a tentacle coming from the crack between the bed and the wall.

For a few seconds, your brain froze. You had no clue what to do. No fucking clue. Fight it off? Grab it and pull? Lie still? The thing slid up further. And further.

“Uhm—” you said, offended, like the tentacle pressing its tip against your clothed pussy was the same as someone bumping into you in the hallway. “Excuse me, I—”

Your mouth fell open. It started moving. Nuzzling. Caressing. Your hands balled into fists. Fuck. Fuck. If you had only read the whole paragraph, you could have had that all afternoon, possibly on orgasm number three by now, and wouldn't have to deal with a bunch of tentacles going bat-shit crazy in your room.

Your head butted the spell book, breath heavy, eyes screwed shut as the tip of the tentacle pressed against your entrance. They should degrade you back to pre-school because—no, even a preschooler wouldn't make such a mistake. And this wasn't even the first major fuck-up of the week. On Wednesday, you had flunked the botany test because you hadn't realized the page had a goddamn back.

In an instant, your head jerked back up. The book—the spell! You turned the page. And there, on the top, it said: Continuation.

You groaned. But not because of that. The tentacle had started rubbing your clit through the fabric.

‘Although the summoned subject is likely not hostile, it is advised to prepare an emergency procedure beforehand and under no circumstances use a closed environment for the summoning.’

Too late for that.

You read on: ‘The spell must be performed in a mental state of complete emotional detachment as tentacle species from realm E.22 have been known to prey on bodily expressions of sexual arousal. If faced with such a creature mid-arousal, retreat or use blocking spell (p. 462).’

Well, fuck. There was no time to check the realm determination table nor learn a fucking arousal blocking spell because that thing between your legs just figured out that it could go beneath underwear.

“No, no, no, no, no—” You reached down your pants and grabbed hold of the tentacle. It was warm to the touch, soft and a little slick. And it was strong. Tensed against your grip, wanted to go back up. Rub against your pussy. And then, it would only be a matter of time until you had a real problem here. So, you did what any reasonable magician would do: You grabbed the waistband with one hand, kept holding down the tentacle with the other, and wiggled out of your pants.

There.

You awkwardly maneuvered onto your side and twisted the lump of fabric around until you were sure the tentacle would be busy for a while finding its way out again. One down, nineteen-ish to go.

And that's when the whole bed moved.

You squealed as another tentacle shot out from the gap. You were dragged across the floor and pulled up, finding yourself floating in the air, right above the portal. It looked like some kraken shit right out of a Pirates movie.

Your hands, balled into fists, flailed helplessly in the air, trying to land a punch. “Hey—let me go!”

Blood shot down and your head starting pulsing in that uncomfortable upside-down throb. You were panting through your attempts to land a hit. Eventually, you gave up. Since this thing didn't have eyes at which you could direct a death-glare, you merely let out a defeated huff.

“At least turn me around, you dickhead.” You crossed your arms.

A lone tentacle came down to your face. You were prepared for anything. But—you didn't expect being smacked in the forehead. Lightly, but still. Your guests really weren't big on manners. It seemed to feel out your face, go down (up) your neck, your chest. It showed some interest in your breasts, fondling them lightly through the fabric of a shirt that was barely wining against gravity. But the tentacle seemed to look for something else. It slid further up, over your stomach, underneath your panties—

“Woah, woah, woah, wait—” You reached up to haul it back. Immediately, a set of arms came out of nowhere and wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back down. And the lone tentacle went on exploring.

“C’mon, dude—don’t. Look, my bad, okay? I'm sorry that I dragged you out of your daily business, I'm sorry I wanted to use you for sex—I'm sorry, okay? I’ll keep my hands off any summoning. I promise.”

You didn't know why you were still talking. There was no way of communicating with this thing. But running your mouth retained you at least a bit of control over the situation. Or so you told yourself.

The tentacle up above tugged at the waistband of your panties. And without further ado, it pulled them up until they were hanging at knee level.

You took a deep breath, head throbbing painfully. There was no getting away. This was happening. Your shirt was in the way, so you didn't see much. But you felt it. Felt the tip on your entrance. Felt it press inside slowly. You mouth fell open, a silent moan on your lips as the tentacle slid inside you all the way.

Then, the whole organism shuddered. Like a hive mind, everything started moving around you, tentacles shivering in the air like eels. In an instant, you were moved into a horizontal position (fucking finally). More tentacles wrapped around your arms, keeping them behind your head, a few others spreading your legs apart. Suddenly, it seemed like the whole network was focused on you. Tentacles hovered in the air above you like antennas of an anemone, their tips twitching almost excitedly. Something was going on here.

The tentacle inside you hadn't moved, yet. But now, it started—flinching? Lapping at something?

“Listen, dude, whatever you're doing in there, it's weird, so—”

To your surprise, it slid back out. It was slick with your wetness. A few tentacles came down to rub themselves against it. You lifted your head. Whenever they touched, another jolt went through the others. And as you watched the procedure, it dawned on you that, accidentally, you had just made a scientific breakthrough. You figured out what they liked to eat.

Without warning, the first tentacle slipped back inside you, started thrusting now. Taken aback, you let out a surprised shout. The sounds were amazing. Your wetness meeting theirs, obscene slick noises filling the room. The tentacles above kept hovering and twitching. Gasping in pleasure, you closed your eyes, let it happen. Fuck it. When would you have a chance at this again? When would another army of tentacles hold you down while you were getting the pounding of your life?

You didn't hold back, let out all the whimpers and moans and cries and more tentacles kept twining around your body, as if encouraging you. It was ridiculous how good it felt to be almost completely enwrapped like that—a blanket of tentacles, a wiggly mass against your skin—and as if the creature felt how much this turned you on, it started thrusting harder.

Little ah ah ahs spilled from your lips, and the tentacles spreading your legs became obsolete, you'd hold them open yourself if it would let you. Would let this thing fuck you until you had a stroke.

“I’m gonna—” was all you brought out before your orgasm hit you. Biting down on your lip, you barely kept yourself from shouting the whole dorm down.

The slick sound intensified, and you weren’t quite sure if you were squirting, or if the tentacle was coming inside you. The bulk of slick arms wrapped around your chest made it hard to see down there. It didn’t matter. It felt wet and warm and good.

Letting your head fall back against a squishy pillow, you groaned with relief. The tentacle pulled out, and something dribbled down your ass.

“Thanks, dude, I really needed that,” you let out, catching your breath.

As if the organism had to deal with its own post-sex bliss, the blanket around you loosened—even so much so that you could wiggle out a little and turn around on your stomach, holding onto a big tentacle like a tree branch. Beneath you, a whole other world expanded. Little planets floated through space, barely bigger than a house. Some had crater-like holes from which the occasional tentacle arm slipped out.

Mesmerized by the fact that you had a fucking galaxy in your bedroom floor, you let your gaze wander over everything the creature wasn’t blocking out with its arms. Big rookie mistake. With a hard pull, you found yourself back at your old spot.

“Okay, okay, I got it, no peeking,” you quickly said, hands raised in a disarming manner, “So—can you let me go?” Chest heaving, you looked up at the forest of appendages floating above you, a lot of them still twitchy. “We had a nice time, right? Guy over there certainly got his fill.” Your head gestured to the lone tentacle sprawled out on your floor, lying in what seemed to be a puddle of its own come.

Holding your breath, you got ready to haul your ass back to safety.

This time, though, the creature didn’t lose any time with another tentacle board meeting. Two of them shot in your direction, wrapped around your ankles, and pulled your legs up—further over your head—until it had you almost folded in half. From your first-row seat, all you could do was watch as another appendage plunged into you. You let out a squeal, and as if this bastard started to anticipate your moves, it pinned your hands above your head.

Stop stop stop stop stop, you begged, your pussy so sensitive it felt on fire. Only now, you saw what a mess it had made—all those juices flowing out of you, starting to run down your stomach. You groaned, struggled against your restraints, and groaned some more but this thing didn’t care. This thing wanted to fuck you and there was nothing you could do about it.

Just as you felt anther orgasm approaching with horrifying force, a violent shudder went through the tentacle inside you. Something flowed your pussy, and eventually started oozing out. The same white substance from before. The tentacle slid out, hauled itself through the air and slumped down on the floor next to the other one.

And something started to dawn on you.

“Are you gonna—” you started, but the words got stuck in your throat. Horrified, you looked around. Counted them. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one. “Is everyone of them gonna—”

The creature answered your unfinished question with another tentacle. A thick one. Thicker than the ones before. It stretched you wide open, penetrated you deeper than you thought was possible. With every hard thrust, it filled you perfectly, brushed spots science didn't even have a fucking name for yet. You’d pass out. You’d pass the fuck out if it kept fucking you like that. Slick come was still oozing out of you, running down your thighs, as the tentacle pushed the rest of it deeper. Locked in position, all you could do was watch and feel your orgasm approach again.

And then, something slithered up your back. Over your ass. Your eyes went wide. A noise broke through your lips, faintly resembling a desperate fuck, and a second tentacle slipped into your ass. You were slick all over, so it pushed inside like it was nothing. Started thrusting. First gently, then harder. Not a single coherent thought was in your brain, and like a broken record, all you got out was fuckfuckfuckfuck as they pounded into you mercilessly, as if your juices were an aphrodisiac.

This was godly. This was both fucked-up and godly and wrong—so wrong—and so, so right—what would your professors say if they knew you used your summoning skills for this? If they knew that you loved getting your holes filled by a creature from another realm, probably breaking every magician ethics code on the way? Fuck, if the whole academy knew. If all your classmates saw you like that. Ass up in the air, limbs bound, pussy nothing but a desperate, come-filled hole clenching down on a tentacle, mouth agape in a silent scream. You let out a whine at the thought, and then another, louder one as they sped up.

Two more tentacles came into view, seemed to wait in line. The thick one fucking your pussy angled itself so that it was brushing your clit with every thrust. And that was it. You came again. Hard. And just when you thought it was too much, just when you thought they’d stop and let you rest, they pounded you harder and harder until the thick one started pulsing and, far away, you felt a familiar warmth inside you. It was surreal, seeing all that liquid spilling out, and between coming your brains out and begging them to stop, you started to laugh because what if they could actually knock you up? But that train of thought got lost when the other one came in your ass. You passed out.

When you woke up, it was already dark out. Your room was lit in the portal's ominous magenta glow. Your first thought, oddly, was if you could somehow teach the creature how to close the blinds. What if people could see from outside? Then, you started regaining a feeling for your body. Everything felt weird, like you had overdone the morning stretch. Limbs tense from being maneuvered into unnatural positions. It took you another minute to realize what was going on. Now, you were floating in the air again, hogtied, head hanging down, legs held open. A long string of your wetness hung from your pussy, dribbling down into the galaxy below. The tentacles a few feet beneath you were slick with come, your panties resting on one of them, and—were those two tentacles inside your pussy? You felt so full. And so good. You had dreamed, you remembered. About coming. Or maybe that were the moments you woke up. Fuck. You were so tired. So fucking tired.

“How much longer?” you let out, voice hoarse. “Please, dude. Please tell me you’re done.” You couldn’t see a lot in the dim light. But there were some tentacles resting by the edge of the portal. More than before. Maybe you could speed things up a bit. Get this over with and then sleep for a week. And then try to forget all about it because if not, you’d do it again. You’d do it again and you knew it. You’d get so fucking hooked on this shit that you’d become the odd cat-obsessed loner but with tentacle monsters. Fuck, you could never, ever do this again.

“Hey—one of you, c’mere!” you called out and somehow, it understood. A lone tentacle appeared before you. Maybe they got attuned to their prey over time. It hovered in front of your face and, for a second, you didn’t quite know how to explain this. But then, you simply opened your mouth. It slipped inside. Teeth—you remembered and tried to keep your mouth open wide while your body was weighing forth and back from the thrusts of the others. It quickly got the hang of how blowjobs worked. When it pushed too deep, you made a gagging noise, choking for air, and somehow, the tentacle readjusted.

After you’ve given them a third hole, things did pick up a bit. It certainly helped that they had spread you so far that you could fit two in each hole at one point. Their come tasted curious. A little sweet. Your whole face was painted after a while and as the whole organism moved to fuck you in missionary again, a few tentacles came down and cleaned you up a little. Overstimulation became your normal state. At one point, you stopped counting your orgasms. They blended into each other, like a continuous high, and you were so far down ecstasy lane that you had stopped worrying about what physiological consequences this could cause.

When the sky started slowly turning blue, the thought that you had once lived in a reality without at least one slimy appendage in each of your holes seemed absurd. The slick coat on your skin was your attire. The warm liquid flowing down your throat your nutrition. Feeding this creature your juices your only purpose.

It had changed positions a few times during the night. Doggy seemed to be a favorite. It also liked holding you up in the air in positions even yoga instructors would shake their heads at. An honorable mention went to the time it had you hanging upside down again, your upper body so far down the portal that you were halfway in a different realm. Who could say of themselves that they had their first anal orgasm while looking down into a galaxy?

At 7:26 a.m., your gaze fell at the clock on your nightstand. Sixteen fucking hours. Your chest was heaving, and you finally had your mouth free again. Your limbs were still held down by arms but by now, they were a comfortable embrace, keeping you safe and secure, moving with your body when it thrashed through its climax. You were so used to them, that now, as they let go one by one, you felt an alarming chill run down your body. Nervously, you looked around. Some of them still let you lie on them like a mattress. But the others had freed you. What was going on?

From below, a single tentacle came. It was gorgeous, you thought—and immediately interrupted yourself—they were all gorgeous. All on your own, you spread your legs as wide as you could and pushed your slippery pussy lips apart. The tentacle slithered inside. With a wistful groan, you let your head fall back. This one went slow. Gentle. It savored. By now, you were so used to ruthless thrusting that this was almost a little dull. But the thickness made up for it. Soon, you felt as full as with the others and you lifted your hips a little and started meeting its thrusts. Wanted it to go faster. Harder. Bring you to your limits, where you felt most at home by now.

“C’mon, dude, that’s all you got?” you teased and from behind, a tentacle smacked your head. “Ow!” You laughed and sped up your movements. It did, too, and soon, the room was filled with those mesmerizing sounds, the only sounds you wanted to hear ever again.

But all of a sudden, you noticed something. Where there were once tentacles upon tentacles looking down at you, only your near-empty room remained. The portal seemed to have halved in size. Most of the tentacles have returned below, into their realm. They ominously floated through space, completely uninterested in you. Only the few holding you up remained.

This was the last one.

“Wait—” you said dumbly as the tentacle sped up, your pussy clenching down on it, “Wait, wait—what are you doing?” It didn’t react, kept on fucking you. A bitter-sweet ache spread through your chest. “No, hey, stop—stop—not yet, please!” A cry escaped you as the tentacle started hitting your g-spot, over and over again. “Please, I—ah, fuck—fuckfuckfuck—stop, please—please don’t—” You were so close again, it wouldn’t take long. But this couldn’t be it. This couldn’t stop, not yet. Not ever. This thing had to keep you, take you down to those little planets, keep fucking you, keep breeding you—

You let out a frustrated groan, about to grab the tentacle and push it back, drag this out a little longer—but then this would end and—fuck, you were so close. The tentacle was, too. You felt it pulse inside you. This would be the last time you’d be filled with its seed. The last time one made you come. The last time this would happen to you.

“No—” You reached forward and grabbed the tentacle in a tight grip. But it was so slippery, it pushed right through your grip—probably loving the additional pressure. You heaved yourself up and moved back, but the tentacle merely wound itself around your leg, pulled you close, and went right back to pounding you. You felt it. Felt it tense up. “Please—please don’t come, not yet, not yet, no—fuck—” You cried out, your whole body convulsing, almost falling off the tentacle mattress. You crashed into your orgasm, eyes screwed shut, holding on for dear life. The tentacle came with you, flooded you with its seed, fucked you through everything until your legs went numb. You were coming for fucking ever. It was good. It was so fucking good and you didn’t want it to end. Prayed that it would keep filling you, keep absorbing your juices—you and this creature, for all eternity.

In the afterglow, you barely realized the ceiling was moving. But you felt your bed's mattress under your back, solid and hard, no comparison to being gently held by dozens of arms. The creature tucked you into the blanket. You grabbed one of its appendages, but it slipped right through your fingers.

“Please stay,” you whispered exhaustedly, “Or take me with you.”

The magenta light slowly dimmed. You heaved yourself up on your elbow with your last strength. The portal was closing. Wistfully, you looked back at it. Felt the soreness in your body, your holes still gaping, come starting to flow out of them.

Just as the portal was almost closed, maybe the size of a plate, a single tentacle came out. It floated over to you and slipped under the covers. Like a snake, it slithered underneath the blanket and found its old spot between your legs. A gasp escaped you as you felt it nudge your pussy. Now, you were the one savoring. It pushed inside. At first, you thought it changed its mind and went for a last round. But it kept pushing, almost meticulously, making sure all of its seed stayed inside.

Then, it retreated and vanished in the glowing hole in the floor.

The portal closed.

Your room was bathed in the morning sunbeams. You fell asleep immediately; next time you looked up at the clock it was noon. Putting a hand up to your forehead, you let out a sigh. Your eyes kept darting to the spot on the floor, as if the portal would open again any second. Suddenly, something dribbled out of your pussy. Flowed all the way down until it soaked the bedsheet where a wet patch was already forming. Slowly, your hand slipped under the covers. The seed was slick between your fingers. And then, you pushed it back. Further and further inside.

Until you felt full again.