#Cat Peeing Picture

[ethearepity]

shes so cute and silly

[sudokuplayer]

i'm so angry and heartbroken and i think this is all i will ever be

[artistcheez]

It’s not even 7am yet and I’ve been peed on already

[ninikrumbs]

fluff with boyfriend satoru. thats it.

boyfriendsatoru who's weary and exhausted from the weight of the world on his shoulders, fighting curses day in and day out.

boyfriendsatoru who's favorite part of the day is coming home to you, to the soft hum of your cozy apartment. Your warm smile and open arms a perfect remedy to melt away the exhaustion in his bones, along with the smell of a freshly made meal or takeout depending on how tired you were from your own missions.

"Welcome home, Toru!" The tender tone in your voice made his heart warm. Despite your tired eyes, you still stood up to greet him by the door. You wear wearing his shirt and nothing else with your hair up in a messy bun. And to him you looked so beautiful it almost hurt. How did he ever deserve you?

He closes the distance between you two, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, hugging you tightly like someone was gonna take you away.

Tucking his head in the crook of your neck, he breathes you in and melts into your embrace. "Im home."

boyfriendsatoru who's house is now so full of life ever since you came in the picture, apartment now filled with cute trinkets, scented candles, plants and cozy throw pillows. A stark difference from his once cold and empty house that he only uses to sleep for a few hours before carrying the mantle as the storngest once more.

boyfriendsatoru who makes up for his absence due to long missions every chance he gets. He now demands for days off like other sorcerers and spends those days trailing behind you like a little puppy.

boyfriendsatoru who doesn't know what personal space is when it comes to you. Wanna shower? he's right there with you. Reading a book in bed? his using your chest as a pillow, purring like a cat every time your laugh reverberates from your body, might even offer to reenact your favorite scenes. Need to pee in the middle of the night? You get startled when he opens the door, sleepy face yawning as he scratches his toned tummy while he waits for you to be finished. Claiming that he can't sleep without you. Doing skincare? He's right beside you, waiting for you to pat in your toner and moisturiser on his face. Honestly, he's just a baby who loves you and wants to be included in everything.

"Toru, not that I mind..."

He looks up from his place on your chest, looking so sleepy and satisfied that you almost didn't wanna disturb him.

He yawns before answering you, voice laced with sleep. "What is it, sweets?"

You thread your fingers through his fluffy hair, giving him head scratches here and there and he basically purrs like a kitty on catnip. "You know you don't t have to spend every waking moment with me. I know you feel like you have to make up for the time we're apart, but its okay to make time for yourself you know."

In typical Gojo fashion, Satoru juts his lips out as his eyes water comically. "Does that mean you don't want to spend time me?"

"What? No!" You were somehow panicked and amused at the same time.

"You should've just shot me instead, that would have hurt less!" He cries, tightening his arms around your waist.

You shake your head at his theatrics, laughing fondly, "I didn't mean that you big baby."

Sparkly blue eyes stare back at you, "But Im your baby."

You snort in response. If only the world could see him now, the stongest so soft like this. But truly you felt lucky that monly you could see this side to Satoru. A side to him that you could keep all to yourself. The world can have the strongest, you only ever wanted Satoru. "Toru, I only meant that you might get tired of me if you don't have your personal space."

He scoffs, looking so offended. "First of all, there's absolutely no chance of me getting sick of you and second Ive had enough alone time to last me a life time."

The way he said the last part made it sound like it was no big deal but the thought of him coming home to an empy house with no one to turn to made your heart ache. "Toru.."

Seeing the look on your face, he quickly gives you a smile, "Don't look at me like that, sweets. Im fine, really. Its all in the past."

You were unconvinced but you didn't want to breach deeper into such a sad subject so instead you made a promise to yourself to make sure he never feels alone ever again.

You pull him up and wrap your arms around his neck, he snuggles into you but makes sure not to crush you under his weight. His warmth seeps into your skin as you caress his back. You murmur softly into his neck, "You have me, Toru. Always."

Gojo had to blink back the tears and stop his voice from shaking when he spoke, "And you have me."

--

"Just to be clear, you don't like personal space?" You ask, teasing lightly as you looked down at Gojo on you lap.

He gazes up at you, arms circling your waist, smirking cheekily as he answers, "I like your personal space."

[brayneworms]

no, you hang up! | shota aizawa

kinktober day three: phone sex

word count. 2.2k

content. phone sex, reader and aizawa are coworkers, mutual masturbation, referenced age gap (once and it's minor + doesn't contribute to their relationship dynamic), dirty talk, no genitals for reader mentioned, gender-neutral reader, teasing (reader calls him names but it's all fairly playful), pre-relationship.

♪ agora hills — doja cat

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

You know it's him before you even look.

Your room is blue-dark, cold; the central heating must have turned off hours ago, still on to warm you to sleep even beneath two comforters. The recent winters were no joke—you walked around town at the moment with dry, blistering lips and dull skin and watery eyes. Even now, as you raise your head from the comfort of your sheets to the arid air, gooseflesh breaks over your skin.

Something pulses; it's what woke you in the first place. Some noise, some shift in the quiet. Outside it's still dark, not yet late enough for the light to start turning greyish and buoyant. It takes a muddled, groggy few seconds as the static in your head starts to clear that you realise it's your phone. 

You grope blindly for it; it's only vibrating, but you're a tepid sleeper at the minute, and it's more than enough to rouse you from whatever fitful slumber you'd managed to fall into. You have to be careful not to forget and turn on your side, put pressure on the sling that binds your arm as you reach under the sheets for your phone as it rings, rings, rings out. 

You slap a hand across the plastic case, lift it with a wince at the cold blue light that shines out like fingernails down a chalkboard. But yeah—when you read the name AIZAWA across the top of the screen in informal white capitals, you can't honestly say you're surprised.

You stab the green button on what's probably the eighth or ninth ring. "Yeah?"

There's a moment where he doesn't say anything. Where the line crackles the way the ozone layer does before the first strike of lightning. "...Did I wake you?"

"Yeah," you say again, returning to your back. Your bound arm gives a twinge of protest. 

"Sorry," he murmurs, in that dry tone of his, the one that rarely manages not to sound clipped and bored. "I guess I didn't realise how late it is."

You pull the phone away, glancing for the first time at the time in the right-hand corner. 02.11am. He did have a nasty habit of letting the night slip away from him—and his regular bouts of insomnia mean the lateness of the hour doesn't always impress upon him as it does for most people—but you suspect there may be more to it than that. There's a hesitance, a reluctance in his voice. 

"It's okay," you say finally. "Have to pee anyway."

The static rises as he huffs down the line. "How's the arm?"

"Feels like roadkill," you mumble, which doesn't make a lot of sense. But sue you, you're tired and the painkillers wore off in your sleep. "Why're you calling?"

Another crackle, a soft shift, like an out-of-tune radio adjusting frequency. "No... particular reason."

As the fatigue starts to clear from your heavy brain, you try to picture it. Shouta Aizawa—evidently not patrolling tonight, given the lack of cityscape din in the background of the call. It's quiet; you can maybe hear the low purr of a ceiling fan. Earlier, he'd shifted, and you'd heard the rustling of sheets. So, he's in bed. Lying there. Alone. Calling you.

He's pretty transparent. But to his credit, you don't think he's trying to be conspicuous. It's not incredibly in his nature. And it's not in yours to call him out on it, either, which he knows. It's why he does it.

Does, not like—like this is a regular thing, or anything. There have been one or two what you like to refer to as unrelated incidents over the eight-year course of your working relationship. A kiss at a New Year's party that lingered a moment too long, the time he took you home after a night at the bar with the other U.A. staff and you couldn't be in the staffroom alone with him for about a fortnight afterwards.

"Just missing the sound of my voice?" you ask, trying not to sound too coy. You don't want to make him skittish, and anyway you have a feeling he hates when you try to play up your (in your opinion) minor age difference. 

Another rustle, quieter, shorter. "...Something like that," he murmurs. His voice is soft, despite the timbre of it reaching down to some pit in his chest. 

"So should I talk?" you press. 

"Sure," he replies.

"About what?"

"Anything." He swallows. "Whatever... whatever you'd like to talk about."

You roll your tongue over your lower lip, suck it for a moment whilst you think. "I miss work," you start. Boring, mundane—testing the waters. "Being stuck at home sucks. And all my friends are my coworkers, so you're all at work every day. 'S pretty lonely."

"I see." There's a hint of strain in his voice, one that makes a dim chord strike somewhere low and pitiful inside you. You cross your legs over each other. "You know we'd visit if we had the time."

"Yeah, I know. I bought myself plants to give myself a reason to get out of bed," you say, casting a glance over at them as they rest on your windowsill. Their leaves wink and shiver in the current of cold breeze let in from the crack in your window. "I have to get up twice to water them. And then when I'm up, I think, I might as well get something to eat, exercise. Shower."

The last work is deliberately provocative, like pressing on a ripe bruise to see when it starts to hurt. Your reward is the faintest hitch of Aizawa's breath. 

"I talk to Hizashi every day," you continue, trying to keep your own voice even. The silence on the other end of the phone sounds deafening, your heartbeat starting to get uncomfortably forceful in your chest. "He texts a lot, about silly things. Keeping me up to date on stuff at the school. It's not the same as being there, but it's sweet that he tries." You pause. "I wish I could see everyone, though. Hey—can I see you?"

You let the question hang. Lining up a hunting rifle to a buck's head, letting it decide to stay or flee. Then,

"Hang on." It comes through gruff and short, but it makes your stomach twist all the same. A moment later, your phone hums with a notification. It hangs, a grey banner at the top of your screen. From Aizawa, with a photo attachment.

Your mouth goes dry as you stretch your thumb to tap it. It's a flash photo of a barely-lit room. You can see dark blue sheets and a grey comforter, and two legs in slouchy grey sweats, cocked apart, shoved halfway down his thighs. But in the crux of the photo—

"Jesus," you blurt before you can stop yourself. You hear Aizawa huff a noise on the other end of the phone, could be laughter, could be something else. It’s not like your entirely inexperienced with Aizawa’s cock, but that was a while ago and there’s a big difference between a drunken sticky fumbling in the dark and seeing it properly, in low warm light, heavy and hard with his hand wrapped around it. His fingers, thick and pale, you can’t help but want them on you. Circled around your ankle, maybe, pulling you apart for him with that quiet, unassuming strength of his.��

“Is that a good or bad reaction?” he asks, and the note of strain is thicker than ever. He sounds strangled. “Should I start worrying—about my job position?”

“Probably,” you answer. “But—no. How long’ve you been touching yourself?”

You hear his breath hitch again at the casual crudeness of your words. “How long’ve you been on the phone?”

A hot red flash zips through you. Before your head has given your body permission, you’ve laid the phone down flat on your chest, speakers buzzing through your shirt as you slip a hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. You go straight for what feels good, finding yourself already embarrassingly ready, shuddering as your fingers brush the most sensitive parts of yourself. 

“You’re such a creep,” you groan, head back against the pillow. Aizawa makes a quick, cut noise in the back of his throat. “One week without staring down my shirt in the staff room and you resort to this?”

“I don’t—” He cuts himself off, sighing shakily. “I don’t stare.”

He does fucking stare, it’s just quite subtle and it took you a while to notice. 

“Yeah, right.” Your fingers curl and search, press and glide. You’re hot and wet, for him, for the first glimpse of lust since your leave of absence began. “Bet you’d do anything for a taste.”

“...Maybe,” he stammers, breathing hard and quick against the phone. Now you can hear a soft stream of sounds coming through, a shlck-shlck-shlck that makes your blood hot and your brain fuzzy. “Maybe I’ve thought about it. Once or twice.”

“Dirty old man,” you say, half-babbling, and he groans low in his throat. You wish you could see him, God you can picture it—head thrown back, thick dark hair splayed against the rumpled pillows like a funeral shroud, sleep shirt ruched up to show the soft pale plane of his stomach dusted with dark spiralling hairs. You’d follow the pattern down to where the hair was thickest, push your hand through to where he was hard and hot as a brand for you. You didn’t get much time to play with him before, restless and lazy and horny off the cheapest champagnes you could order at the bar; he’d been inside you before too long and back out far too soon. 

“I’m n-not…” Hearing his resolve start to crack and fracture is the hottest thing in the world. Your own fingers work faster, jamming at the spots that make your legs gooey and your stomach start to tauten. “Isn’t my fault you look like that.”

Your giggle is breathless, half a moan. “Took that right out of the old perverts’ handbook,” you mutter. “Don’t break a hip on your way over here.”

“Shut up, shut up,” he grunts. “Damn it—shouldn’t have called—”

“I’m glad you did,” you say. Sweat is starting to collect in your armpits and the back of your neck. “Been so bored. This is the first time I’ve felt anything in weeks.”

His breath is ragged. “What do you feel?” he asks hoarsely. 

“Hang on.” The photo you send is conservative compared to his; just a shot of your hand disappearing into the waistband of your shorts. But you hear his stifled whimper, low in his throat, crackling with desperation. 

“God,” he hisses. “You have no idea what I’d do to you.”

“I have—some idea,” you mumble. 

“No, not like before,” he growls. “I was too drunk to do much of anything. What a waste. I’d never let you go if I had you now. I’d make you cum three times before I even thought about fucking you. My mouth, my hands, my thigh, anything.”

You imagine the scratch of his stubble on your inner thigh, or your own legs clamped around the thick muscle of his thigh, and nearly white out. You’re not in control, not of the way your hips cant desperately against your hand or the desperate moan his words pull from you, turning to stifle it into the pillow. 

“I want you inside me so bad,” you find yourself babbling, hot with embarrassment over the desperation in your voice. You sound close to tears. “Jesus—your hands, I’m always thinking about it. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He makes a keening, desperate noise, like a starving animal going for food. “Show me.”

You barely hesitate, ripping your shorts and underwear all the way off, and it’s only a few more desperate strokes of your fingers until you feel them flood over, your whole body shuddering and legs twitching. Your chest heaves and you blink up at the ceiling, withdrawing your hand from between your legs. Very awkwardly, you manage balance your phone enough in your slung hand to take a photo, the flash illuminating the mess between your thighs, the gleam of your own spend on your fingers. Before you can let embarrassment get a hold of you prematurely, you send the picture to Aizawa.

The result in instantaneous. He pulls a breath through his teeth. “God—fuck, look at you. So messy. God, I’m—” A choked-off moan, the breathiest noise you’ve ever heard from him as he cums. You lie there, warm all over, your skin singing as you listen to him fall apart on the other side of the phone. The speakers tickle your skin as you scrub a hand down your face.

After, you listen to his harsh panting breath. Then there’s a pocket of silence, the sort neither of you know how to break.

Finally, you cave. “...Feel better?”

“Don’t,” he mumbles. “This was… highly inappropriate.”

“Agreed.”

“I shouldn’t have called.”

“Probably not.”

There’s a pause. “...Is it fine? That I did?”

A smile touches your mouth. “Yeah, it is.”

He huffs. You picture him rubbing at his eyes, drawing the skin inward to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Well, then… yes. I do feel better.”

“Get off work early sometime,” you murmur. “I get so bored around here. Could use the company.”

You’re not sure why, but you think he’s smiling. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

taglist: @deltamel (+ask to join!!)

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ mutual masturbation with yuuji𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 13: touch me please!!!

✿ aged up!yuuji itadori x jealous!reader

✿ warnings: masturbation, fingering, jerking off

You and Yuuji have been best friends ever since you were little. He was always the bubbly golden retriever, and you were his shy black cat. he always stood by you when you were little, and he always stands by you now.

"And then she asked for my number," he exclaims, showing his hands all around. His smile is bright, and you're happy for him. He's so delighted that a girl hit on him for the first time. But there's something inside of you, that tells you it shouldn't be that way.

"What do you think of her?" Yuuji asks, almost breaking your nose with his phone. The girl in the picture is pretty, but you feel like Yuuji could get someone even prettier. For example, you think you are way cuter than that girl.

"Do you think I could lose my virginity to her?" The questions throw you off guard. Of course, you know that Yuuji is a virgin, but you didn't think he would lose it to someone he just met.

"Maybe we can practice," you mutter shyly, you don't want him to go and fuck some other girl. He kissed you when you were little, and even though you're both adults now, you can still feel that kiss on your lips

"Like to have sex?" he asks you, his eyes wide. You snort at him, "Of course not sex, but you probably don't know where the clit is."

He almost looks offended by your statement. Of course, he knows where the clit is, he thinks to himself. Gojo told him it was another name for the pee hole.

"You can just teach me a bit," you tell him, looking at him skeptically. His face suddenly turns serious, and you can see the wheels turning in his head.

"Okay." he breathes into your ear.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his hand traveling up your skirt. He almost whines when his fingers meet the warmth of your pussy. Yuuji rubs you over your panties, he's inexperienced, but he thinks he has an idea of what he's doing. You let out a surprised moan when he finds your clit.

"Did I find it?" he shoots you a teeth-full smile. You nod, he, in fact, found it so quickly. he hooks his fingers on the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs. It's awkward with you sitting next to him, but he managed to do it.

"Oh my god." he moans, staring wide-eyed at your pussy. You want to slap him at that moment.

"What's the matter?" you ask him as you bite your lip.

"It's my first time seeing real pussy." he confesses, making you roll your eyes. You open your legs a bit more for him to get a better look, earning a whine from him.

"Do you want to touch me too?" he asks you, grabbing the tent in his pants and shoving it in your direction. You nod shyly, unable to look at him.

Your hand reaches out to cup him over his own hand, moving your hand with his own. he pulls down his pants, giving him a perfect view of the bulge in his boxers. You suppose he's big even though you have never seen a dick before.

Your hand slides into his boxers, fingers just gazing against his hard-on. You feel the veins on his dick under your fingers flexing. Your hand finds his tip, and you cringe at the slimy precum on the top.

He pulls his boxers down, finally revealing the hard-on you were playing with. You shut your lips shut, he's so pretty. He's pretty pink with his tip being a bit darker than the rest.

Your body shuffles closer to his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Your hand cups his dick again, and you wrap your fist around him. Yuuji moans, and you can't help but think about how perfectly he fits in your hand.

While you're occupied with studying his cock, his own hand finds your pussy again. He tries to look for your clit again, and after a few swipes, he finds it again.

You lay side by side, your hand on his cock while he is between your legs. Both of you don't say anything. The only sounds are heavy breathing and moans and whines.

His fingers tease your opening, collecting all your juices on his digits. You jump a little at his gesture, closing your legs around his hand.

"Come on, let me touch you inside," he whines, pulling your legs apart so he can touch you again. You shake his head, there is no way you are gonna let him finger you.

"I'm gonna give you a kiss if you let me put fingers inside." Yuuji offers you, and your ears perk up. Maybe if he kisses you, he's gonna forget all about that other girl. You think for a moment before pecking his lips in a quick kiss, catching him off guard. He smiles at you, and he plants a kiss into your hair.

He carefully pushes one of his fingers inside, making you wince in pain. even just one digit is too big for you. Your hand speeds on his cock, trying to find some distraction from his hand. You have to agree that his finger doesn't feel as bad inside of you. It's a bit strange, but the spot he massages makes you see stars.

His whole palm is pressed against your pussy, adding pressure on your clit while he discovers your insides.

You can feel his twitching in your hand, indicating he's super close. Your focus is set on his cock, you wanna see how it looks when he cums. You grip him a little tighter, jerking him faster. It takes a few tugs before he's cumming all over your hand.

His hand between your legs doesn't stop, in fact, it gets rougher, trying to bring you to your orgasm too. Your stomach feels weird, and your whole body tenses as you cum. Your body jerks on its own as you ride out your orgasm.

You don't realize you closed your eyes until you see him smiling up at you. He looks like an angel, his eyes screaming a worried look.

"Did you like it?" he asks you, making you hide your face in the crook of his neck. He can feel your hot cheeks telling him that you did.

"I am not gonna answer that girl. I liked being like this with you."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbath @jaenniii

@satorustar @balenciagarette

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

what if a yeerk didn't know/realize it was a yeerk? What if it thought it was a human kid?

I'm trying to figure out how this would happen, and imagination is failing me. There is some evidence we've successfully convinced nonhumans that they're humans — Nim Chimpsky would sort photos of himself among photos of humans, putting photos of chimps in a different pile. But Nim was a chimpanzee, sharing 99% of humans' genes. And he was taken from his mother when he was 10 days old to be raised exclusively by humans: sleeping in a bed, wearing clothes, eating with utensils, peeing in a toilet. He'd never met another chimp at the time of that study.

By our best guess, dogs don't think they're human, nor do most pets. Dogs easily learn to prefer humans (or sheep, cows, etc.) over other dogs, but the way they act around fellow dogs is completely different from how they act around other mammals of similar size/shape. This is both because dogs mostly spend their first weeks among their parents and siblings (if not they tend to die, so even shitty breeders rarely take bottle babies), and because dogs have obvious physical differences from humans. Being dogs, they probably care less that we lack fur or use language than that we smell like omnivores who rub themselves with soap, and that we move very differently from quadrupeds. Cats are harder to pin down, but they famously don't meow at each other, only at the dumb apes whose affection or tuna sandwiches they want to demand. I don't think anyone's investigated hamsters or goldfish, but I'm guessing the odds are against one mistaking a giant hand that comes from the sky to dispense pellets for being one's sibling.

So the issue with this hypothetical yeerk is threefold: 1) yeerks don't resemble humans, 2) yeerks need to see each other to feed, and 3) yeerks can't interact with humans without using a human host. Let's suppose that the yeerk is taken into a human home immediately after spawning, that the yeerk shows infantile amnesia (who knows), and that the yeerk grows up only feeding from a private pool that contains no other yeerks. Let's even suppose that we give the yeerk a Stephenie Meyer—style human host who is completely brain dead. Even under those circumstances, would the yeerk think "I'm human"? or would the yeerk think "all so-called humans are greenish slugs operating ape bodies like mech suits; we just don't mention this fact out loud"? And is that the same thing as thinking oneself human?

For that matter, did Nim Chimpsky really think he was human, or do his two piles of pictures simply mean "apes who wear clothes" and "apes who don't"? If he assumed all apes have a life stage of being hairy and good at climbing before metamorphosing into a hairless form good at running, is that the same thing as thinking himself human? Was there a different categorization in his head, and if so was it comparable to the boundaries that humans draw around the concept "human" — e.g. "like-mes" and "beasts"? He never actually learned a human language, because evidence would suggests apes cannot, so we'll never know his exact thought process.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One TwentyEight

This chapter in NSFW

TW panic attack

Eddie waits, fiddling with the cuffs of his pull over, “where?”

“I…” Steve casts around, he doesn’t really want to kneel on the floor, “bed? We can listen to a record after?”

Eddie nods, going into the bedroom. Steve follows, taking a big, fortifying breath. He can totally do this. It’s just Eddie, and he knows Eddie’s dick won’t hurt him. Eddie doesn’t even pee out of it, well, Steve’s...pretty sure he doesn’t, since he still sits to pee, so, in theory, it should be better than a regular dick?

Maybe?

And he definitely doesn’t come out of it, so Steve doesn’t even have to worry about...that part.

Steve has no idea, because he’s never done this, “Eddie,” Steve starts, watching as Eddie strips off and lays his clothes, well, Steve’s clothes that they’ve been sharing, over the chair. He climbs into bed, Steve’s soft bedding having been transferred to here.

At least it’s familiar, and smells like home, “Eddie, you know I’ve never done this before, right? I’ve only ever been with girls before. And they don’t...they don’t have dicks.”

“I know it. Pictures in my book.”

“Oh...is there?”

“Yeah, and of...feet– feeetuuus- tadpole? Inside?”

“Oh,” Steve gets undressed, following Eddie into bed, “a pregnant lady? With a baby inside?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

It’s easy enough to reach between Eddie’s legs now, rubbing until Eddie’s dick slides out to meet his fingers. Twisting around them to greet Steve, familiar now. Steve rubs and tickles the head under the covers, Eddie shifting and making a soft sound of pleasure as the petals open. Steve rubs the pad of his thumb across the top, feeling the soft drag of all those little nobbles, following the dip and the petals, “ready?”

Eddie nods, blinking up at Steve with liquid brown eyes.

Steve takes another deep breath before he shuffles down the bed, half pulling off the covers so he doesn’t suffocate down there as he gets himself situated between Eddie’s thighs. He starts off kneeling, but then lies down. It’s not like he hasn’t been sucked off before so he’s...seen the mechanics of it quite a few times.

Eddie’s dick is upright, even without Steve holding it, the thickness of it...wriggling, but slowly. Swaying. Kind of.

Like a snake from a snake charmers basket…an image Steve does his best to dismiss.

The rest of Eddie’s anatomy isn’t anywhere near as intimidating. Despite there not being a single hair on Eddie’s pale skin, the slit is near enough what Steve’s familiar with that it seems like the safest way to start.

He feels fucking awkward, figuring out where to rest his arm on Eddie’s thigh as he takes hold of his dick again, his nose pumping clumsily against Eddie on the first try, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind at all. He’s still reclined, but up on his elbows so that he can watch. He’s frowning, “okay, Stevie love?”

“Yeah. Yeah I just...you’ll tell me, if I get it wrong, okay?”

“Yeah. I...Stevie, you like this? You sure?”

“I...I mean I want to try.” Which isn’t a lie. Steve wants to try this so Eddie can try it, and it certainly isn’t fair to deny Eddie because of Steve’s own hang ups. Eddie’s body being...different...certainly is not Eddie’s fault.

He can’t sound very sure though, because Eddie’s frowning, lifting a leg to shift Steve away, trying to shield himself, “Stevie.”

Steve pins Eddie’s thigh, “no. Look, let me try, okay. I might really like it, but I won’t know unless I try, right?”

Eddie frowns, “promise it’s okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I promise. If you don’t like it, you say, and if I don’t like it, I say, deal?”

Eddie nods, relaxing again, “deal.”

Steve holds Eddie’s dick gently, brushing the tips of the open petals with his thumb. It’s like Eddie’s dick...leans into it, brushing up against Steve’s fingers like a friendly cat would.

“Okay,” Steve tells himself, “okay.” He leans down again, this time heading for the safe, familiar bit first, and with a flattened tongue he licks a stripe up the length of Eddie’s slit. He tastes like clean skin. Steve lets his tongue trace the place where Eddie’s dick emerges, prodding gently at the little gap there, between Eddie’s dick and the place it comes out.

Steve leans back again, “was that okay?”

Eddie nods frantically, shifting his legs further apart to give Steve better access, “good.”

Steve slides his free arm under Eddie’s other leg, rather than having it half trapped beneath him. It lets him settle right down against the mattress, before he goes in for another lick. Eddie hisses out a noise, clearly liking it, “warm,” he tells Steve, “feels warm.”

“Uh hu,” Steve makes an affirmative noise, pressing the tip of his tongue between Eddie’s folds, and trailing it downwards. There is a taste now, just a vague one. Nothing like what Steve is used to, but not bad. Maybe because Eddie doesn’t get at all that wet until he comes.

Steve flicks his eyes up to Eddie’s face when he’s at the top of a lick, checking they’re still good. Eddie’s eyes are wide and his cheeks are a little pink, and his tummy muscles give a little twitch and shiver when Steve licks again at the base of his cock. Steve takes the encouragement, cradling the back of Eddie’s length to keep it vaguely in the right place, Steve licks a thick stripe right up the length, getting close up to the nearest petals before backing off a little.

Eddie’s hips lift with a groan, trying to chase Steve’s mouth. It doesn’t work at all, because his dick stubbornly nestles itself against Steve’s palm. The head waves a little as Eddie’s hips relax, the petals pulsing and grasping at nothing, and Steve figures, he might as well just go for it.

He times his moment, waiting for the petals to be fully open so he can lick across the top, letting spit gather in his mouth before he leans in. The head tilts towards him, petals stretched fully, like this is exactly what it wants. Steve has an intrusive, and a little insane thought, that Eddie’s dick is watching him...that it knows exactly what it’s doing. Steve does his best to ignore it.

Steve opens his mouth wide, intending to lick right across the top and take Eddie into his mouth at the same time.

Spit pools on Steve’s tongue as he dips it into the shallow indent in the middle of the black petals, and immediately Eddie huffs out a shocked noise. His arms give way, his head hitting the pillow as his hips buck upward, and Steve does his best not to panic as Eddie’s dick latches to his tongue.

It’s probably only the familiarity of it that saves him from a knee jerk reaction to pull away, he’s felt this same thing, the soft, suckling grip of Eddie’s cock on his thumb many times now. It’s the same thing, Eddie’s body rolling and bucking, Steve sort of letting his head bob with the movement, following the shifting of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie comes so hard Steve hears it, a wet squelch as Eddie’s jelly like come gets forcibly ejected from...wherever it is it comes from.

He’s pretty sure he could pull away, once he’s had a second to think, Eddie’s dick doesn’t have that strong of a grip, but he can feel the pulsing far more acutely now. Eddie’s dick giving Steve’s tongue almost a suckling kiss, which Steve can feel much more thoroughly on his tongue than he ever, ever has on his thumb.

He watches, only feeling a little silly with his mouth hanging open and Eddie’s dick attached to his tongue. He wonders what it looks like, easily able to imagine the stark black skin of the head of Eddie’s cock bright against the pink skin of his own tongue.

Steve has a good view, holding on as best he can while Eddie’s body writhes and twitches through it’s orgasm. After all the stress, the whole thing was probably over in less than a minute.

Steve can feel the pulses lessen, the petals releasing their grip, and Eddie’s cock detaches. It sinks halfway back inside, the remainder just sort of hanging out, loose and relaxed. It never really goes flaccid, Eddie’s dick, even when he’s come, it still maintains the thick girth of a good sized dick.

Steve wonders vaguely where it goes and what it does when it’s back inside, if it tucks itself around into a little sleepy doughnut or something. It makes him smile. And then stop again, because smiling over Eddie’s dick being cute is kind of weird. Steve distracts himself by rubbing at Eddie’s thigh instead. He’s still now, flushed and kind of sweaty looking, just panting a little.

“Was that okay?”

Eddie swallows thickly once, then twice, before he finally says, “good bad?”

“Oh,” Steve says, uncertain what to do with that. He pulls the covers back up, taking them with him as he climbs up to settle next to Eddie, covering them both. He’s half hard, despite his initially ambivalent feelings about blow jobs, it was...kind of fun. Steve rationalizes that it’s more a fear of the unknown and...it was fine. Good even, he did kind of enjoy it. And now he’s done it once, he really would be happy to do it again now that he knows what to expect, as long as Eddie doesn’t object.

Which he might, ‘good bad,’ isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of success. Eddie holds Steve’s hand under the covers, “was it okay though?” Steve asks again, uncertain now.

“Come...good. Really good,” Eddie says after a moments thought.

“But..?”

Eddie frowns, “sharp,” he finally says, and then with much more confidence, “fast.”

“It was...you came too fast? And that made it...not as good?”

“I...it hurt? But...good hurt?” Eddie tries, a little confused, a little desperate to get Steve to understand, “Stevie good. Perfect good.”

“Huh. Maybe just a little more foreplay then, next time. So it...happened suddenly then? Like coming was a surprise?”

“Like...braking too hard in the car? Everything-” Eddie pulls his arm out from under the covers to make a sharp jerking motion with his hand.

“Oh. Oh yeah, I think I get you. Yeah so...you just need a little more build up then?”

Eddie shrugs, “maybe?”

“You willing to try again?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods enthusiastically, so it can’t have been all bad.

“I have been wondering...when I touch you...you usually come when I get the end wet, right, and that’s always with my spit? And then then...my, well, my tongue has spit on it, and you came like, straight away so...do you think it’s actually like, my spit that’s making you come, or do you think it would work with anything?”

Eddie shrugs, “you want...try water?”

“I mean, could, yeah. Could buy some lube. Milk?” Eddie’s nose wrinkles, “tomato ketchup?” He actually scowls, a little disgusted at the thought, “orange juice?”

Eddie smacks him playfully, smiling now, “Stevie.”

“What, you know what Dustin says about experiments or whatever, as long as we record our findings,” Steve recites dutifully.

“Whizzy cream?”

“What, so you can eat half the can again?” Eddie grins, and Steve knows he’s right.

“We try sex with no condom now?” Eddie asks. He has such an earnest innocence about him, something about the question, the keen way Eddie asks it, makes Steve stomach fill with butterflies and his dick feel all twitchy.

“Yeah...yeah, okay. If you’re still sure you want to?”

“Doctor said it’s fine? The results say you’re all clean,” Eddie repeats the second part carefully, he’s probably only heard Steve say it that one time.

“Yeah. That’s right.”

Eddie shrugs then, “I trust you.”

Steve has no idea when Eddie picked that one up, but it makes something warm pulse in his chest.

“I love you, you know that right? Like, I really love you. It would...hurt me, if you went away or…”

“I know Stevie. I love you too. Many lots. The most.”

Steve leans down for a tender kiss, soft and careful before he pulls away again, “how do you want to do this?”

“The first way,” Eddie tells him, “I stay here.”

Steve leans down for more kisses as he climbs back over Eddie, Eddie’s hands rubbing at Steve’s back and ruffling up through his hair before sliding back down. Eddie bends his knees a little as Steve fully settles against him, cock hardening reflexively.

Eddie lifts his legs more, letting them wrap around the back of Steve’s legs as Steve uses one hand to notch the head of his dick at Eddie’s opening. He pushes in carefully, mindful of how tight Eddie can be at first. He’s so warm inside, and now, without the condom, Steve can really feel the wetness slicking his cock. The drag of Eddie’s walls against his flesh is more acute, little differences, but still noticeable.

Steve’s all the way in, Eddie’s legs and arms wrapped tight around him when he stops to check in, “all good?”

“Yeah. You can go.”

“Oh, thank you, very kind,” it gets a small, chuffing laugh out of Eddie, which in turn makes him clench, and Steve may go a little cross-eyed at the sensation of it.

Steve starts rocking his hips, closing the scant distance, kissing Eddie carefully. Eddie returns them with more fervor, licking deep into Steve’s mouth when he has the opportunity, sucking without Steve feeling his teeth at all.

Steve vaguely wonders if Eddie’s trying to prove a point, but the thought is fleeting. Steve starts drawing out further, thrusting harder, kissing Eddie and then trailing sucking kisses along his jaw and town his throat.

Eddie arches into it, and Steve is vaguely aware of the head of Eddie’s cock burrowing against him; it’s the first time he remembers that happening after Eddie’s already come. Steve doesn’t stop, but he does lift a little, putting his weight up onto his forearms to create a little space between their bodies.

Sure enough, Eddie dick is awake again, nuzzling into Steve’s pubes before the head opens and it grasps at Steve’s tummy. Steve keeps thrusting, keeps moving, neither Eddie nor his dick seem to mind. When Eddie’s dick releases, latching on again an inch further down, Eddie groans.

“Baby, you want to come again?” They don’t usually do this, but then Eddie’s cock is usually floppy and sleepy looking once Eddie’s come, not usually interested in the proceedings once Eddie’s gotten his. This is new.

Eddie shifts, gripping at Steve’s sides with his knees, “yes?” he sounds unsure, but Steve sits back on his knees, hooking his elbows under Eddie’s thighs to pull him down and up, so Eddie’s nestled still against Steve’s body. Steve manages it without his dick slipping free.

Eddie’s dick seems to roll with the punches, keeping it’s purchase on the skin of Steve’s lover stomach.

Eddie’s goes easily when Steve moves him, ending up with Eddie’s knees hooked over his shoulders. Steve rolls his hips, keeping his thrusts long, slow and deep, holding for a second every time he bottoms out. He has to slow down, now he knows Eddie wants to come again he can’t come too fast. He doesn’t want Eddie coming too quick either, clearly that was what was unsatisfying about the blow job but...a thought occurs to Steve. If he gets this right, and if he is right about the spit thing...they could come at the same time.

He holds Eddie’s thighs flush to his body with one hand, keeping him nice and close so Steve can make his thrusts short, and with the other he reaches around for Eddie’s dick, teasing it off his skin with gentle fingers. It accepts the distraction of Steve’s thumb, Eddie huffing out a pleasured moan as Steve starts rubbing, holding Eddie’s dick firmly in his hand, it leaves his thumb free to work.

“Good?”

Eddie’s tugging at the covers, bunching them so he has something to hold onto. He’s watching Steve through half lidded eyes, “yes. Like you in when you touch me.”

“Good,” Steve makes his thrusts short and sharp now, getting a little warm with exertion and his brewing orgasm, his hips smack quietly against Eddie’s ass, “gonna’ come soon, you ready now?”

“Yes, yes Stevie love, in me, please. I want come in me,” Steve holds Eddie’s dick, letting a blob of spit land on his thumb and the head of Eddie’s cock as his own balls go tight, his cock hardening and beginning to twitch.

Steve rubs the spit across the head of Eddie’s cock, and sure enough Eddie’s eyes slide shut as he cries out, his back arching, but his hips held firm by Steve as Steve drives into him. There’s another flood of hot wetness across Steve’s cock, enough that some feels like it’s sliding slowly down onto Steve’s balls from the bottom of Eddie’s slit, forced out by the movement. Eddie’s insides pulse and shiver with his orgasm. It’s enough to push Steve over the edge into his own release, head thrown back and eyes closed as he comes, drawn out by Eddie’s pulsing wet grip on his cock.

They come down slowly, Steve holding Eddie’s thighs close until Eddie finally blinks up at him, smiling, “I feel it. Your come. Warm inside. Feels good to come with you in.”

“Good then?”

“Best come ever.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “good.”

The waters warm enough as to be perfectly adequate, but no where near as hot as Steve likes it. Still, it’s fine, it’s not cold or anything, “you getting in with me?” He calls, vaguely aware of Eddie shuffling around outside the stall.

“Brushing my teeth, then yes.”

“Okay,” Steve wets his hair, and then nearly screams a second after Eddie runs the faucet, “shit fuck,” he hisses, plastering himself against the door, “Eddie turn the water off,” Eddie does.

“Okay?”

“Okay new rule, no running any water anywhere in here when someone's already in the shower, okay? It makes the water go hot. Like burning hot.”

“Okay...sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve tentatively slides back under the water, “yeah, brush your teeth after, okay?”

Steve wets his hair again, idly running his hands down his body, rinsing the worst of Eddie’s sticky come off his cock. There’s one of those dark lumps clinging stubbornly to Steve’s foreskin, and it takes a bit of rubbing with his thumb to dislodge it. It washes down the drain. Steve’s reaching for the shampoo just as Eddie opens the door. The glass stall is going to be tight with two grown adults, but they can make it work.

Eddie ends up shuffling in backwards, pulling the glass door closed behind him. It’s a snug fit, Steve forced completely under the spray, almost touching the back wall, “want me to get your hair?” Steve has to do a weird maneuver to get at the shampoo, but he manages, “Eddie babe? Your hair?”

Eddie doesn’t answer though, he’s still where he’s pressed up against Steve. Steve watches as Eddie reaches up with one hand, making a tinking noise with the tips of his nails against the glass wall of the stall.

“Eddie?” Steve reaches up to squeeze Eddies arm, and all of a sudden Eddie jerks to life, flailing and panicking, he slams the shower door open, stumbling out. Steve reaches back to flick the water off again as he follows. He grabs a towel to get the water out of his eyes, so he can see to turn Eddie. Eddie’s breathing way too fast, his hands shaking, his muscles twitching. He’s mumbling under his breath, eyes wide and terrified, darting everywhere. He backs himself against the wall, Steve following, dripping and naked, “Eddie?”

Steve gets a towel around Eddie easily, Eddie not really reacting, it’s kind of like Steve isn’t even there. Steve gets a towel for himself, haphazardly fixing it around his middle, “Eddie,” Steve risks rubbing at Eddie’s arms, but again, nothing. Eddie’s teeth are chattering now, but he’s blinking slowly, eyes starting to focus.

“Stee?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here, are you okay? What happened baby?”

Eddie swallows thickly, once, then again, before he gathers himself to speak. He wraps his own towel more tightly around himself, “tank,” is all he says.

“I...oh,” Steve turns to look at the two glass walls of the shower cubicle, “yeah. Okay yeah, I can see that. Lets get you dry, okay?” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, a little unsettled himself. As fast as that happened, Eddie seems to have calmed again just as quickly.

Eddie lets Steve dry the worst of the water off his back, before setting one foot on the toilet lid so Steve can get between his legs with a flannel. It just takes a minute and Eddie’s clean enough for now, ��you want to go sit on the bed a second?”

Eddie shakes his head, choosing to sit on the lid of the toilet instead, wrapped in two towels, waiting, “okay, I’ll be two minutes,” Steve kisses Eddie’s forehead before he gets back in the shower, washing his hair and then soaping himself down as fast as he can. It’s a half assed job but it’ll do for now.

“Come on, lets get dressed, I can make hot milk and we can listen to that record, okay?”

Part Thirty

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ BF SATORU

ft. satoru gojo

tags. gn!reader, a bit of cussing, all fluff ! / author's note. IHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIMIHATEHIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i've actually been going insane because of how much he's taking up my mind) first post of 2024 had to be my one and only of course :3

uses you as an arm rest even if you're a tiny bit shorter than him. (satoru is 6'3 / 190cm for reference) if you're really short though, he has to lean down more and he's standing like the leaning tower of pisa, so he looks silly.

FACE CARD. he's actually the most majestic, gorgeous, beautiful man alive. up close, far away, from the left, from the right, above, below, he looks so fucking good. don't even get me started on when he has his glasses on.

satoru has a million gazillion of those skincare headbands with ears. he has a few cat ones, a hello kitty one, a kuromi one, and many many more. he even has a whole drawer dedicated to the headbands. (that is very close to overloading) he looks super duper cute with them though, so you never have the heart to tell him to stop buying every headband in existence.

whenever he feeds you something, he puts his hand under your chin to catch any crumbs. a tiny gesture to him, a big one for you. he smiles when your eyes widen and you mumble a “it's good”, and proceeds to poke your cheek.

satoru puts his hand above your head to make sure you don't bump your head whenever you go under a table to pick something up.

he is ever so slightly awkward in the beginning of your relationship, but it's cute! the first time you fell asleep on him, he was terrified to move because he was afraid to accidentally wake you up. 2 hours later satoru really really needed to pee, but decided not to get up because of how much it felt like a crime to wake you up. (you ended waking up anyways because of how much he was fidgeting.)

tucks your hair behind your ears before you can even realize it's bothering you. he looks at you with the most lovesick expression as he does this. he also does this while you're falling asleep, or already fast asleep.

before bed or as you guys wind down for the night, he more than often bursts out laughing at a random thought or a funny memory. scares the shit out of you because one; he's right by your ear, and two; his laugh is loud as fuck. he can't even explain what he was laughing about until a solid three minutes because of how much he was laughing. (and it ends up not being that funny.)

adding onto the above, he's the type to think everything is funny as shit at night. every reel, tiktok, you name it. (even if it's the unfunniest video known to mankind) sometimes if you're already asleep, he has to step out into the bathroom or living room to let out these laughs.

wipes the sweat off his face by pulling his shirt up. he looks at you with a smug fucking smile after.

his contact name for you on his phone is definitely some cheesy pet name (sweet cheeks, baby cakes) with a bunch of heart emojis. his contact photo for you is another story though. constantly changing from a close up picture to a picture of you sleeping.

satoru gets cuteness aggression a lot because of you. clenching his fist and sighing before squeezing you into a tight hug. he'll occasionally bite your shoulder too.

a human radiator. the first time you touched him you thought he had a severe fever, but he calmly told you he was warm all the time. it absolutely sucks during summer because he insists to cuddle with you, and most than often you wake up sweaty. (even with the ac blasting) of course, you try to move out of his grasp when he's asleep, but he only pulls you closer subconsciously when you do. during the winter though, you are so thankful. despite the various blankets you have on, it was hard to get warm and comfortable, but with the warmth of satoru you're nice and warm.

bickers with you if you're on his side of the couch. yes, satoru does unassigned assigned seats at home too. you two playfully argue for a few minutes until he eventually huffs and just sits down on. these arguments are useless though because he ends up pulling you next to him to cuddle.

he's actually really good at taking people when they're sick. making sure you're staying warm under the covers, feeding you proper nutrition and making sure you're drinking enough water. he occasionally leaves the room for you to rest since he doesn't want his naturally warm body making you even warmer, but if he ever sees you up (you're going to the bathroom) he jumps off the couch and pushes you back into bed.

satoru suggests movie nights at home on quiet weekends. turning on an animated movie or romantic movie most of the time. he tucks you into his side with a blanket draped over the two of you. he ends up just staring at you the majority of the movie though.

does that thing where he tells you your shoelace is untied, (which prompts you to look down) and grabs your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. he smirks triumphantly. he does this multiple times a week, and you fall for it every time.

he spoils the fuck out of you on your birthday. gives you the amount of kisses the same age you're turning, listing number of reasons why they love you based on your age, and don't even get me started with how many gifts he gives you. dances while he sings you happy birthday.

once you start dating, you never are tying your own shoe ever again. before going out, he demands you to sit on the couch while he ties your shoes for you. when they get untied, he normally notices it before you. but if you do notice before him and you begin to crouch down, he rushes to crouch down before you and pushes your hand away.

likes comparing hand sizes with you. he has big ass hands, so he likes seeing how small yours are compared to his. totally not an excuse to hold your hand though, not that he would ever admit it.

[mousegirlheart]

i love my son so much he's such a therapy cat, he comes to me when i cry and follows me room to room so im never alone and is fantastic for recognising hallucinations but by god has he got separation anxiety. i put a door between us and he will start screaming, crying and will eventually headbutt the door with all the force of the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan.

pictured here standing on his own toilet while intently watching me pee (he's helping???)

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE RAIN 💦 BYAKUYA KUCHIKI X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 22: WATERSPORTS

🐙 Requested by: Anonymous. Hi! I hope is not too late, but can I request day 22 with Byakuya and f! reader? thank you! ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. watersports, pee content, piss kink or whatever you wanna call it. piss play (? idk, best tw possible for this one: keep in mind Byakuya asks reader to pee on his jeans and then while fucking her. Also, he pees inside her. Do not read if you don't like/enjoy this. 🐙 wc: 1,4k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

I want more of you, Byakuya-sama. Everything I wanna try, everything I wanna feel… All of that, if it belongs to you. 

“What the hell is that?” he asks, laying on the bed of some random love hotel of Karakura. 

“Mhghj…” you giggle; the TV had various “movie” options. You pass them all, from up to down, until the triple x ones appear. “Thi- this is porn. Human porn” you continue laughing. 

Byakuya sits properly on the bed, he’s been resting for some time. You insisted on visiting a love hotel in the human world since many Shinigami have already told them about those. (Especially Rukia, but that information shouldn’t be revealed to Byakuya for obvious reasons). 

Him, after annoying pleads, finally said yes. And so, here you are both. 

“But- go back, the previous one… what-“ he asks, interested despite trying to act disgusted. 

“Which one? This on- oh… OH-“ you get silent for a second; the picture shows a woman straight up peeing on a man’s sex. And the man is obviously raptured with such “rain.” 

You turn around to look at your long-haired lover; you do it slowly, and a naughty smirk invades your face. 

“I don’t know what that smile implies, but you look like a degenerate” he says, calmly, trying not to look straight towards the tv… he is trying to act surprised and perhaps disgusted, but there is something inside him that aches to keep watching. 

“Mhgh… aren’t you the one who asked me to go back? You like it, don’t you? you want me to do it?” you tease him; at first jokingly, but soon you take it a hundred percent seriously… Byakuya’s pants are definitely showing an erection.

Byakuya sighs, looking to the side; he can’t maintain eye contact with you, because he knows how much you know him. And blushed cheeks also show how horny he is, very well. Oh, who would have known Kuchiki Byakuya could be that naughty and dirty? 

You crawl up to where he is, right in between his legs. Like a cat, you purr and kiss his neck. 

“What do you want, Byakuya-sama?” you whisper into his ear. “You wanna get wet, babe?” 

Byakuya takes a deep breath and looks at you through the corner of his eye; it takes him a couple of seconds to decide his own fate, but he ultimately does.

“Y-es” he whispers low, incredibly low. It’s so weird to you that he is not able to speak loud and straightforwardly as he usually does. Perhaps he is ashamed, and he shouldn’t be… at all. 

“Very well…” you giggle, planting a kiss on his cheek that turns him on like fire to gasoline. 

You are immediately pinned down the bed, he sometimes forgets he shouldn’t use shumpo in bed. 

Hands surrounding your wrists, keep you like a prisoner of his imponent beauty and manhood. With arms over your head, and legs spread to let him come closer, you wait for his passion. 

“You might be already wet, mh?” he asks, letting go of one of your hands to pull down your pants. 

He is right, you are indeed wet; by simply looking at him, by simply smelling his perfume, you become crazy, needy, aroused. 

Byakuya is pleased to see your panties -that he specifically chose for you to wear- are indeed already dampened in your arousal, and now, apparently he wants them for you to wet them even more. 

Your shirt ends up lifted up to uncover your tummy, he goes down with kisses that feel like soft butterflies laying upon your skin. Byakuya is both a beast in bed, and also a gentle lover that makes you shiver. 

The captain plants kisses over your panties and sex, inhaling your sweet scent he deeply loves; you tangle his hair around your fingers, pulling softly whenever he bites the inner side of your thighs. 

One single finger slides inside you, panties still on, just moved to the side. In and out, just like the way he knows you like it. Exactly the way he knows is perfect. Beckoningly, hitting the upper wall, playing from time to time with your clit. 

However, Byakuya desperately wants to try what he has just seen on that tv, and that still plays in the background. Therefore, he doesn’t want to wait much longer, and perhaps deep inside he prays for your body to be able to suffice such desire. 

“Ride me” he commands -pleads- 

“Y-yes, babe…” you answer back, sure things are about to get messy. 

He flops into the bed, and you crawl on top of him. Hips straddled on his, your hands quickly try unbuttoning his pants. 

“Honestly, your hakama are easier to take off, these modern jeans suck!” you grunt, battling against the buttons. 

“Don’t take them off yet, then. Wet them” he orders. This time his blushed cheeks aren’t because of shame, but because he is absolutely thrilled to make everything as dampened and dirty as possible…. What has gotten into you, Byakuya Kuchiki? Where are your manners as a noble?!

You scoff; then you want them ruined, as well, captain? fine… 

You spread your legs, laying back and letting your ass fall almost at his knees height. Your core in total display for him to see, your fingers moving panties and folds… opened to fulfill this naughty Shinigami’s desires.

“you are lucky we’ve been drinking the whole mini bar when we arrived” you joke, feeling the pressure of your full bladder aching against your other organs. 

“It is not luck if you do everything possible to make it happen” he smirks.

Ah, naughty captain… you planned this, then? 

At first it is a little difficult for you to do it, but soon the first few drops fall from your core making Byakuya bite his inner lip. And then, the stream of semi-transparent rain got not only his jeans and shirt wet, but also everything around. 

Little to no patience he has, as he can’t help himself but touch your core as the golden relief still gushes out. He plays with your clit, getting his forearm as wet as the rest of the things. 

It feels so delicious to push, to relieve yourself and also feel the tingling sensation of his up and down touches on your pleasure button. 

However, Byakuya might not be satisfied yet… 

“Hold it in for a second, please” he begs, unbuttoning the soaked jeans off. His sex being out of such wet prison, ready to impale you as fast as possible. “Come here” 

You crawl again on his crotch, this time letting his sex slide right in. It is difficult as hell not to pee when his hips buck up in a ramming motion. And in fact, you are unable to do so for much longer. 

The pressure of your urine flows out every time he goes in and out of you, making him grunt with noises you’ve rarely listened to before abandoning his mouth. 

His fingertips carve on your ass cheeks, only to get a better grip, and move you faster up and down. 

You can’t even process what exactly is that is making you so incredibly close to an amazing climax, but you let it happen anyway… is it his sex inside you, is it the fact that you have transcended everything and are able to engage in such perverted and dirty acts together? Is it his face of total rapt while fucking you? Is it the splashing sound that mixes with your flesh slapping against each other? Is it him in all its manly glory? Is it everything at the same time? 

Probably… 

“Nghh… do it, inside me… it’s your turn now” you beg, with the twisted idea of having your womb not only full of his soon incoming cum, but also his urine. 

“Y-yes, it’s – nngh…- gonna be difficult- but…” he whines, grunts and all of the things in between as well. Byakuya feels his sex about to explode, but also his bladder… he knew exactly what he was doing when drinking as much as he did. 

It feels warm, warmer. So deliciously hot… the pressure, the way every time he thrusts in you it overflows. 

His forehead sticks to yours when it's not even possible for him to keep going, when he needs to stay a little quiet to finally empty himself into you even before coating your insides with yet another type of relief. 

“This…. ugh…. So good”  “It’s so hot, feels so warm… nghhh….”  “Ye-yes, babe…”

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @cyberdazetragedy @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

[octuscle]

The ghost of Gamma Omega Lambda Delta

“Are you sure we're standing in front of the right house?” asked Leander. The property was in a miserable state. The porch was half collapsed, the front garden a mixture of jungle and garbage dump. The exposé had shown a reasonably presentable house, which certainly had potential as an investment property in the immediate vicinity of the campus. Leander looked at Jacob a little disparagingly. Jacob was the prototype of a sleazy real estate agent. A little too fat for his not-so-new suit. The heels of his shoes were worn out. And with the help of a little too much pomade, the top of his head painstakingly concealed his incipient baldness. Jacob struck a pose. “You know what my real estate investment is all about: location, location, location! And this is a prime location. Perfect for a boarding house for guest lecturers. Or as a commercial student residence for exchange students. The Germans and Scandinavians will pay almost any price for rent.” Leander sighed. He came from Berlin himself and knew how expensive it was to study in California. But it had paid off. He was in his late 20s, a millionaire several times over after the exit of his start-up and he had no intention of dying a millionaire. His goal was a billion. “All right, then, let's take a look at the wreckage from the inside.”

The first thing they saw was a cat fleeing from them in a panic when Jacob unlocked the door. It looked as if no human had disturbed its peace for a long time. The house reeked of cat pee and mustiness. Jacob searched for a light switch with his flashlight. Leander pulled aside a tattered curtain in disgust and opened a window. It was clear: tear it down and build a new one. There was no alternative. The wooden floor was rotten, the light switches didn't work and the stain on the ceiling suggested a leaking roof. But in his mind's eye, there was a Starbucks branch and a co-working space down here and, if he could bribe the building authorities, one- and one-and-a-half-bedroom apartments on eight, maybe ten floors above. The location was perfect. But he didn't want to let his interest show. Leander was a good poker player. “Give me a flashlight, I'd like to have a look around upstairs,” he said to Jacob. And of course he was prepared and handed his wealthy customer a flashlight. “Do you need gloves too?” he asked. Leander waved them off. He wasn't a wimp, he wasn't afraid of getting dirty.

The stairs creaked unconvincingly as he went upstairs. “What was this before?” asked Leander. “A frat house, as far as I know,” Jacob replied. That at least partially explains the dilapidated condition, Leander thought to himself, pushing a pile of leaves aside with one foot in disgust. It wasn't just leaves. There were also the remains of weathered jockstraps. The upper floor seemed to be in an even worse state than the first floor… But at least there was a light on in one room. Amazing!

Jacob left his client alone. When he sold the property, it would be renovated. The property was huge. There used to be a basketball court and a pool on the dilapidated property. Of course, both were no longer recognizable due to the undergrowth and junk. But a dormitory with 20, maybe 25 units could be built on the site alone. The battery in his flashlight was flat. He needed light… And air, it really stank to high heaven in this ruin. Jacob began to draw curtains and open windows. That made it brighter and airier. But it also made the misery more visible. Dude, this place was really run down. The floor was full of garbage and leaves, the walls were covered in graffiti… Jacob came into a hallway that looked surprisingly tidy. There were stains on the wall from pictures that were no longer hanging. Lots of pictures. All obviously the same size. Only one was still hanging:

Jacob read the writing on the plaque on the frame: "Bruh of the month 09/2024: Chad". What the hell? It was September 2024!

Leander struggled through the garbage towards the lighted room. While all the other doors hung crookedly on their hinges and were covered in graffiti, the open door to the room was almost clean and looked tidy. There was a sign on the door that read “Mitch and Scott's man cave. No entry if sock is on the door handle. Unless you can take two cocks!” The room was messy. The way a dorm room was usually messy. But it looked as if Mitch and Scott had just stepped out for a quick shower after a fierce sword fight. It smelled of musk, sweat and cum. Leander got a hard-on.

Jacob felt uncomfortable. Something's not right here. He also had to pee. No, he had to piss. Fuck, his bladder felt like after two pitchers of beer. He had to burp. And his burp smelled and tasted like beer. There had been toilets around here somewhere. Better to piss in a broken toilet than just in a corner, he thought to himself. Yes, this was where the washrooms were. A frat boy was standing at a urinal and wanking. He looked curiously at Jacob's crotch. Did Jacob have to be uncomfortable now? Never mind, he had to piss. And if a bro was wanking next to him, that was somehow a compliment.

Leander opened one of the cupboards. It smelled like a boys' locker room in high school. T-shirts, football gear, jockstraps, sneakers… Everything was just stuffed into the cupboard. Some of it was clean. Other things were obviously not. Without giving it much thought, Leander undressed and pulled on a jockstrap, a pair of ripped jeans and a shiny college jacket. He found a pair of formerly white socks and sneakers on the floor. Everything fit perfectly. But with his 35 years and beer belly, he looked really ridiculous.

“I'm Dylan, are you new here?” asked the wanking bro next to him as Jacob buttoned his jeans. “Because if you're new, you might as well leave your jeans unbuttoned. I prefer to see the cocks of the new guys who suck me off outside their pants”. Jacob looked at Dylan's hard-on. impressive compared to his own. He went down on his knees. “Wait a minute!” said Dylan. “No one blows me with a stuffy shirt like that.” Leander freed his upper body. And let his tongue play with Dylan's shaft.

Leander lay on Scott's bed. He sucked in Scott's scent. For a sophomore, Scott smelled like a real man. Leander thought about Scott's hairy balls. He liked it that Scott didn't shave. Nothing against a clean-shaven cock and clean-shaven balls. But a man was hairy, he thought as he scratched his chest hair. Out in the hallway, he heard Scott and Mitch coming. They were both praising each other's performance at football practice. The two of them came into their room. Scott grinned and said that his prayers had been answered. He had wished for an awesome cardio workout before the party tonight.

Jacob asked his roommate Dylan why they only ever had sex in the washroom and never in their room. Dylan licked some of his own cum, which was dripping from the corner of Jacob's mouth, off his face. “Because it would be totally homo if we slept in the same bed we were fucking in.” Jacob didn't ask. He was here for his wrestling scholarship, not his intelligence. If Dylan, who had at least once had a B in English and supposedly even in math, said so, it would be true.

Jacob, Dylan, Mitch, Scott, and Leander all arrived at the Gamma Omega Lambda Delta fraternity house party cave at almost the same time. The party was in full swing. Jacob and Leander greeted each other with a chest bump. It was customary among the college wrestlers. And then they started drinking. The others had been at it for an hour. They had some catching up to do.

Shit, it was 05:00. Both of them had already thrown up some of the beer and tequila they had drunk. And poured new beers and tequilas. Leander actually had to rewrite his microeconomics exam today. If he failed again, he would probably have to allow the dean to blow him again. But what was much worse was that they had wrestling practice this afternoon. If Coach found out that they had overdone it again as party animals, they would be in big trouble. Okay, but that could also be settled with a blowjob. Besides, they still had four hours to sleep, no one expected the two stallions to show up on campus before 10:00. Life as a frat boy was just awesome!

[seat-safety-switch]

"The ocean is basically all pee," I announce proudly to a packed audience of the United Nations Ocean Conference. They are hanging on my every word, and as well they should. Ever since my brilliant invention to clean the ocean of microplastic (it's free plastic, dude) everyone has been waiting for me to drip my secrets about water in their ears. Little naval joke there.

Seizing the moment, I click to the next slide, which is difficult because it's just the photo album on my phone (I procrastinated until the last minute.) I hold it up, way up, above the podium, but I am pretty sure that at the very least the delegates in the back cannot read the contents of the screen. When I return the phone to my pocket, I realize that I accidentally brushed the screen, and it was showing the esteemed minds of our generation a picture of my cat the entire time. Oops.

"You have to realize," I stumbled over my words quickly, changing the subject, "everyone who pees eventually has that pee end up in the ocean. Rainclouds? Also all pee. Some of it, I believe, is dinosaur pee." That last one is pure conjecture, of course, but I know that I have to give the newspaper journalists something to go on. Tomorrow's New York Times will lead with a picture of my ghoulish face and a headline: "STRANGE MAN SAYS DINOSAUR URINE COULD CHANGE BALANCE OF ELECTION." I am beginning to lose some scientists, however, who are squabbling about each other in the back, angry at some generalization or glib oversimplification I have made. I rushed to correct myself, so as not to lose face in front of these powerful nerds.

"Some of it is also poop," I add. The audience goes wild.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: double chapter friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom. 

You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place. 

As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.  

“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place. 

He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns. 

As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash. 

“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.” 

You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger. 

You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints. 

Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.” 

His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her. 

If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world. 

You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog. 

“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.” 

The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you. 

“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.” 

“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on. 

“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.” 

He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile. 

“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.” 

He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces. 

“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.” 

You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos. 

A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing. 

You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades. 

“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks. 

You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same. 

“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?” 

“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.” 

“Right.” 

He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep! 

You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue. 

“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.” 

The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none. 

When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him. 

“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.” 

“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder. 

“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.” 

“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.” 

You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks. 

“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.” 

“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?” 

He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face. 

“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly. 

“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?” 

He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.” 

You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid. 

“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.” 

You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.” 

“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly. 

You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted. 

“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.” 

“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches. 

You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well. 

“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...” 

You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves. 

“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.” 

He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly. 

“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.” 

You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.” 

💜

When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom. 

Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding. 

“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?” 

“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.” 

“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.  

You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall. 

“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat. 

“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.  

“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands. 

“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.” 

You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall. 

“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant. 

“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm. 

“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--” 

“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.” 

“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff. 

“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.” 

“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--” 

“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.” 

He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch. 

Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility. 

[bitingdrivers]

part two of Max with kitty ears - maxiel, 980 words

Daniel stirs awake with Max still soundly asleep on top of him. He carefully fishes his phone out of his shorts and checks the time – they've been asleep for no more than a couple of hours. 

Slowly he extracts his other hand out of Max’s shorts, hoping it won't wake him. Max stirs and tightens his arms around Daniel's torso but doesn't wake up. 

Daniel waits a few seconds then unlocks the camera app and takes about a dozen of pictures and videos of them together: of Max, cuddled to his chest, of Daniel's hand in his hair, petting the ears.

He saves all of them to his blackmail folder, along with pictures of Max making breakfast in their kitchen, wearing only Daniel's bright pink socks; Max, wine drunk, passed out in their bed, hugging one of his trophies; a selfie of them, Daniel smiling at the camera, covered in lipstick kisses, Max, hiding his blush being his hands in the background; a few nudes from their message thread. 

Then he cards his hand through Max’s hair, scratching behind one of the ears – it seems to finally wake him up. Max grumbles and cuddles to Daniel harder, squeezing his ribs.

“Morning, sunshine,” Daniel murmurs, smiling gently. 

Max yawns and his ears flatten back to his head. “It's 4 p.m.,” he groggily points out and lifts himself from Daniel's chest. 

“It's morning somewhere,” Daniel shrugs and sits up too, rubbing his neck, it doesn't always agree with Daniel's love for napping on the couch. 

“I'm hungry,” Max says, standing up from the couch and stretching, arms behind his head. 

Ooh big stretch, Daniel thinks, but doesn't say, because he, not for the first time, gets distracted by Max’s stomach peeking from under his t-shirt.

Daniel follows him to the kitchen. “Alright, what do you want? Milk? Fish?” he pauses, “A mouse?” 

Max looks at him, ears flat, annoyed expression on his face like Daniel is one of those journalists with stupid questions. 

“Stop being silly or I will ask Jimmy and Sassy to pee in all of your shoes,” he threatens. 

“You can speak cat?” Daniel gasps. 

He always wanted to know what the two demons think when they sit and stare at a random corner. Or maybe they can finally ask the cats if they do actually feel sad when the bedroom door is closed, as Max always claims. 

“No, but they will understand me anyway,” Max replies and hoists himself on the kitchen counter. 

“Fair,” Daniel concedes and opens the fridge. Max’s ear flicks at the sound. 

“How does it feel, by the way?” Daniel asks, taking out a can of Redbull and handing it to Max. “Having the ears?”

Max cracks open the can and takes a sip. Daniel decides to make sandwiches.

“Weird,” Max says, playing with the tab. “I know they are of course because of the curse, but sometimes I forget. It’s like I always had them,” he muses, rubbing one of the ears. 

Daniel hums, moving around Max to take out the ingredients, a cutting board and a knife. 

“Sounds are louder, that's the only difference I think,” Max says, stealing a piece of ham from the cutting board.

“You never told how they cursed you,” Daniel prompts, slicing the cheese. He cuts an extra slice for Max to steal again. 

Max plops the cheese into his mouth, chews. “Because it's not very interesting. This girl sprinkled a powder on my head,” he explains before taking a sip of his Redbull. 

Daniel doesn't know a lot about curses, but that sounds about right. Probably the reason it won't work for long. They are lucky that it was a fangirl essentially pulling a prank on Max, and not someone who actually wanted to harm him. 

“Why cat ears anyway?” Daniel asks once the sandwiches are finished, and both of them are sitting at the dining table. 

“The doctor said it's probably random,” Max shrugs and takes a bite. He chews a little and hums, pleased. 

Daniel feels pride blooming in his chest. He's not the best at cooking, but the meals he does know how to make are good, or better than good, according to Max. 

“What animal would I be?” Daniel asks after taking a bite too. “If I got cursed?” 

“Hm,” Max hums, squinting at Daniel. He turns his head a little while thinking. Cute. 

“I think a poodle, maybe?” he suggests with a smirk. 

Daniel lets out an undignified sound. “A poodle?!” he splutters. “They don't even have ears!”

Max looks like he's about to explode. “Daniel, what? All dogs have ears,” he giggles. 

All dogs have ears, but poodles have the most ugly ones, Daniel thinks – or imagines. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw one, or if he ever saw one. Regardless, that’s not the point.

“That's very insensitive, you know,” he huffs while Max laughs. “I thought you would say a honey badger. That's literally my brand,” he grumbles, defensive. 

“Do honey badgers even have ears?” Max asks, cackling. 

“Do they- Of course they have ears, Max!” Daniel says, exasperated. “Small cute ones, on their head,” Daniel explains, lifting his hands to his hair. 

“Awww,” Max coos, the bastard. This is Daniel's brand they're talking about. If Max asked what ears he would get, Daniel would've said lion’s, a hundred percent. It's not like the answer would be wrong – a lion is just a big cat. 

“Eat your sandwich,” he huffs, nodding at Max's plate. Daniel needs to come up with a revenge for this. Maybe it's time to use the blackmail folder. 

“I love you anyway, Daniel,” Max smiles, settling. “No matter what ears you have.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. Fine, revenge can wait.

“I love you too,” he says begrudgingly. “Even after your cat ears are gone,” he smirks. 

Max kicks him under the table and takes a bite of his sandwich.

[bleedingneonviscera]

pee tea the cat if he were a tptm girl but he actually has a picture that could be used for a MV