#Iron Purrs

[coreink002]

Here is some Pokemon Art I did this month and the end of May, featuring @bubbleice ‘s Amber! 

I haven’t exactly been posting much OC stuff on here anymore due to what looked like just lack of interest, but hey, can’t hurt to share!

[widowshill]

burke is a dog and vicki is a dog and roger is a cat. if you care

[cittythekitten]

Angry Therapist.

Undertale by Toby Fox Color by Super-Youmna Original Killer!Abyss design by Meta-Kazkz CAREFREE & Slayer by me

[modernmanblues]

happy 3rd birthday Beckley Robert Stewart 💙

[pepprs]

i guess im starting a tradition of double ventposting lol but the last thing i’llsay (maybe) is like… all of that has a caveat which is that my emotional object permanence has been absolutely OBLITERATED by 3 yrs of covid hell and it is really doing a number on me. clearly

[kbwrites]

Devotion

synopsis: Sukuna discovers Uraume’s hidden desire for his wife. Amused and intrigued, he twists their devotion into a dangerous game of seduction and control, where loyalty, lust, and power collide..

⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f!reader, nsfw, slight Uraume x reader, power play, sukuna being sadistic, voyeurism

⚝wc: 3.2k

⚝a/n: guys am I slowly turning into a Sukuna glazer? Is that what’s happening?

“Uraume.”

“Yes, master?”

“Have you had…lovers before?”

Ryomen leaned forward over the dining table, his crimson eyes sharp with mischief, resting his chin lazily on his hand. One of his upper arms reached for the delicate porcelain cup, lifting it to his lips as he took a sip, all while gauging Uraume’s reaction with predatory precision. Uraume, ever composed, took a deep breath—perhaps steadier than expected, but not beyond Sukuna’s notice.

“No, my lord. I am only loyal to you.”

Sukuna could only chuckle darkly at his most trusted advisor’s iron resolve.

“Surely you’ve been attracted to someone before.”

It’s subtle, but Sukuna noticed how Uraume’s body tensed at the question.

“Thats…”

His eyebrow quirks in amusement, the thought of them finding interest in anything other than servitude absolutely intriguing.

“Oh?” He purrs “Tell me Uraume, who’s captured your interest?”

Uraume pauses, their mouth slightly agape about to answer until the doors to the dining hall swing open.

“Good morning~” You yawn strutting into the grand hall. Ryomen’s ears perk up at the sound of your voice. You were draped in a black silk robe, loosely fitting to reveal your cleavage. He didn’t miss the way Uraume suddenly went rigid, their spine straightening as though an unseen force had pulled them taut.

“My lady..” Uraume says quietly, bowing deeply, far lower than usual. There was a slight tremor in their voice, one that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was as clear as day.

Something flickered in Sukuna’s eyes—something dark, cunning, and hungry. He was beginning to connect the threads. Uraume’s abnormal stillness, their faltering words, their body language—how had he not seen it before?

As a light bulb switched off in his mind. Sukuna’s eyes darken as his mind swirls with ideas.

“Good morning, peach.” he purred, his voice a rich, velvety drawl as he pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between his thick thighs. You settle between him, his lower arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your fingers plucked a few of the fruits, and with a mischievous smile, you lifted them to his lips. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed as he accepted your offering, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the grapes from your hand, savoring the taste.

“Did you sleep well?” he hummed, his voice a rumble that reverberated through your body, his grip on your waist tightening.

Uraume was trying so hard to maintain their composure, but Sukuna was a master at unraveling even the most tightly wound strings. He didn’t miss the lingering gaze, the subtle admiration—the longing in Uraume’s eyes as they glanced at you.

You smiled softly, nodding as you fed him another grape. “I did.”

The room felt charged with an unspoken tension. Sukuna’s gaze flitted between you and Uraume.

“Uraume was just about to tell us something…” Sukuna chuckled, his voice a deep, velvet purr dripping with dark amusement.

“Weren’t you, Uraume?”

The words rolled off his tongue like a challenge, low and sultry, and Uraume flinched ever so slightly. Their mouth opened, but no sound emerged, their composure threatening to crack under the weight of Sukuna’s relentless gaze.

Uraume’s adams apple bobbed as they swallowed hard, their hands clenching at their sides. They looked as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to jump or retreat. Their gaze flicked to yours—full of something raw and unspoken—before they quickly averted their eyes again, their face flushing.

“Yes…” Uraume managed, voice tight. “The preparations for the festival next week are complete. I thought it would be a good outing for you, my lady.”

You perked up, Ryomen knew how much you loved going outside the castle. And even though he despised being among the general public he never chastised you for it.

He shifted in his chair, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer against him.

“An outing…” Sukuna mused, his voice low and thoughtful, malicious intent danced in his eyes. “How delightful.”

“Would you come this time Ryo?” You asked, eyes turning up to him with that innocent, pleading look he could never refuse.

His gaze flicks up to Uraume. He saw the way Uraume’s shoulders tensed, the way they remained painfully still. Sukuna could feel Uraume’s silent plea—don’t come. Don’t make this harder than it already is. But Sukuna, ever the sadist, felt the opposite.

His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he looked down at you. “How could I say no when you ask so sweetly, peach?” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.

༺═────────────═༻

As the days slipped by, Sukuna’s amusement only deepened. What had once seemed like gestures of loyalty and respect from Uraume now held a different meaning altogether. The signs were there—delicate and unspoken, but there nonetheless.

He watched closely, sharper now, how Uraume’s hands lingered just a moment longer than necessary when adjusting your robes, or the way their fingers brushed your skin with a softness that would have seemed impossible for a being so devoted to carrying out the King of Curses’ bidding. Uraume, so effortlessly deadly, became something else entirely when in your presence—gentle, careful. As though you were made of glass. And Sukuna saw it all.

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna knew how captivating his wife was. You were beauty incarnate—graceful, magnetic, and utterly enchanting. He had always reveled in the way your presence could command a room, how your smile could make the world feel warmer. It wasn’t lost on him how others admired you, but he had never paid it much attention. You were his. That had never been up for debate.

The thought of his most trusted advisor being captivated by you was both amusing and intriguing. To think that Uraume, who had stood by his side through countless battles, who had remained steadfast and loyal through the bloodiest of wars, was not immune to your charm—it was almost laughable. But it was more than that. It was a game, a deliciously cruel game that Sukuna couldn’t resist playing.

༺═────────────═༻

It was bath time, the air thick with steam, curling up in soft tendrils around the marble walls of the grand bathhouse. You and Sukuna sat on opposite ends, your legs grazing one another beneath the surface. Uraume carefully washed your hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure when scratching your scalp.

Sukuna watched from his end of the tub, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he observed the way Uraume tended to you—so gentle, so precise. It was the kind of attention a lover would give, not merely an attendant.

You, of course, were oblivious. Your eyes were closed, soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as Uraume’s deft fingers massaged your scalp. The warmth of the bath relaxing you, Sukuna could see the soft smile tugging at your lips, unaware of the turmoil that brewed just beneath the surface.

“Uraume?” You question softly “Did those oils you ordered from Kuroshiki arrive yet? I think Ryo would like them today.”

“Yes…” Uraume says snapping out of their daze “I will fetch them right away my lady.”

“Bathing with fragrance oil? You really do spoil me” Sukuna says smirking.

You leaned closer to him, your fingers lightly trailing along the edge of the tub as you spoke, voice soft and inviting. “You seem… distracted as of late, my king,” you murmured, “I wish you would tell me what was occupying your mind.

A dark chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position as his crimson eyes traveled over your face, lingering on the way your wet hair clung to your skin and how the water caressed your naked form beneath the surface.

“My dear,” he purred, his voice low and smooth, “If I’m distracted, it’s only because of you.” He let the words hang in the air, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction, the tension between you palpable.

Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, and you raised a brow, tilting your head as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest.

Ryomen’s hand shot out, snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself pressed up against his chest. His other hand trailed lazily through the water, his fingers skimming along your thigh just beneath the surface. Your heart raced, the warmth of the bath and the heat of his touch intertwining, making it difficult to think clearly.

“And you, my queen…” Sukuna’s voice rumbled with a dark edge, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he spoke. “What has been occupying your mind?”

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your skin, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck, your lips parting as you replied, your voice soft and laced with desire. “Only you, my king. Always you.”

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I like to know where your thoughts are.”

Just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door to the bathhouse creaked open. Uraume entered with their usual calm, carrying a small, ornate jar of oils. The soft clink of the jar being set down on the table was like a loud intrusion into your private world. Uraume cleared their throat, the sound sharp in the silence.

“My lady, my lord,” Uraume announced quietly, their eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away, their cheeks flushing slightly with the strain of maintaining composure.

You pull yourself away from your husband back to your side of the tub, smiling politely.

“Thank you Uraume.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he observed Uraume. His earlier pleasure was replaced by a simmering frustration, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the timing of the intrusion.

They bowed respectfully, eyes fixed on the floor as they took their leave. The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.

As the two of you settled back, Sukuna’s thoughts were already racing ahead. He decided he would push Uraume’s resolve to the breaking point, manipulate their emotions, and watch with dark satisfaction as their carefully constructed façade crumbled. Sukuna was eager to see how far he could push his most loyal servant before they fell apart.

The morning light seeped through the dark curtains of your shared bedroom. Sukuna sat up, his muscular back pressed against the dark mahogany headboard as he watched you.

His eyes, sharp and intent, traced the curve of your body as you slept. The way your body stirred against the black silk sheets, the fabric of your sleep robe slipped off your shoulders—revealing more and more of your skin with every rise and fall of your chest. His own arousal growing at the mere sight of you.

He leaned down to you, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. One arm snaked up to your chest, slipping under your robe to caress your breast. You whimpered in your sleep, squirming under his large hands.

“Ryo?” You question, eyes still closed as you feel the warmth of his palms set fire to your cool skin. Your body responding to him almost instinctively, heat pooling in your core as his touch deepened, awakening a familiar hunger within you.

“Awake already, peach?” he murmured against your skin. The sound of his voice alone—low, gravelly, and undeniably seductive—vibrated through you, making your breath hitch.

You hum as your back instinctively arches into his touch.

“Don’t you have… ahhh. Meetings in the morning?”

“Mmm.” he purred in acknowledgment, peeling the robe off of your body. “It can wait. There’s something far more… compelling… that’s caught my attention.”

Your body shivers slightly as Ryomen removes the covers, he drinks in the sight before him. Removing his mouth from your neck, before dipping his head between your legs.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your dripping cunt. Ryomen flattens his tongue, the wet muscle circling your bundle of nerves. His two upper arms hold your thighs in place, nails digging into the plush flesh. The room fills with your sleepy moans and whimpers as The king of curses slurps up your essence. He latches onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirls.

You grab tufts of his fluffy pink hair between your manicured fingers, tugging gently. He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, smirking against your cunt as you grind against his face.

You felt the pressure building in your core, Sukuna felt your heart quicken—continuing his ministrations. Just as you felt the dam about to break.

Knock knock

Ryomen let out a low growl, the vibration rumbling through your cunt. He reluctantly tore his face away from between your legs.

“What is it?” His voice laced with venom.

“It’s me, my lord.”

He pauses, gaze flicking between the door and your panting form. An idea pops into his mind.

“Come in.” Sukuna muses, his voice smooth and deliberate.

Your eyes shot open, widening in shock as the doorknob slowly began to turn. Panic flooded your veins, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what he intended. You tried to push against him, but Sukuna’s grip was ironclad, his body pinning yours down against the silken sheets.

“Ryo, please!” you whispered urgently, your heart racing as you felt the weight of the moment closing in on you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. But your pleas only seemed to excite him further. Sukuna’s smirk deepened, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips.

Uraume stepped into the room, eyes respectfully downcast, holding a scroll of parchment.

“My lord, I—”

But the words died on their lips the moment they finally looked up. Uraume stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the scene before them.

“Ah, Uraume!” Sukuna drawled, his voice full of amusement. “You may speak.”

“I-if this is not a good time—“

Ryomen chuckles, his hand snaking up to give your tit a gentle squeeze. Rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You bite back a whimper.

“Nonsense! Continue.” He says, gaze never leaving you.

Uraume glances at you, their eyes raking over your form. They had dressed and bathed you countless times. However nothing could quite compare to the way your skin glistened with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to regain a steady heartbeat. They way your eyes were nearly black, glazed over with pleasure. They shouldn’t feel this way… they couldn’t and yet it was impossible to ignore the growing heat, the tightening coil as Uraume saw you in your most vulnerable state.

“Speak, Uraume,” Sukuna commanded again, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He relished in the discomfort radiating from his loyal servant, the way their breath quickened and their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.

“U-Uraume… you don’t have to listen to him.” You manage to mumble, trying to separate your rational mind from the pleasure your husbands fingers were giving you.

“Oh? But darling Uraume wants to see this.” He purrs. “Don’t you Uraume?”

They want to go, to turn on their heels and walk—no run quickly, and far away from the both of you. But every movement—every verbal protest failed to ever come to fruition. All Uraume could do in that moment. Was watch.

Watch as you writhed under their master, as your supple skin they so tirelessly cared for was marked. As your aching cunt was toyed with, as the saccharine moans fell from your plump lips.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Uraume, who watched intently as Ryomen gathered the wetness from your folds and his index finger was slowly swallowed by your walls. The lewd noises your sloppy cunt uttered as he pumped slowly into you—like sweet music. He grinned maliciously as he felt you clench around his finger. Despite your earlier protest—he knew you were enjoying this as much as him.

You bit down on your lip, stifling your moans as he curled his finger up to your sweet spot.

“Don’t hold back, peach…” He hums as he inserts another finger. “Let them hear how good it feels.”

Uraume’s breath hitches again, body tensing even more as they watch your every move from the sidelines. Sukuna’s gaze falls on your hand, gripping the silk sheets for support. His eyebrow quirks as another idea pops into his head.

“Hold her hand, Uraume.” He commands softly. Their eyes widen briefly before following his command. Uraume’s hand wraps gently around yours, intertwining fingers. Their breath is heavier now, cheeks flushed with color.

You finally make eye contact with Uraume, looking up at them through half-lidded eyes. You had never seen them like this, such hunger in their dark pink gaze. Looking upon you with pure lust. It made your cunt clench even more around your husband’s fingers.

Ryomen continues his assault on your sopping hole, pumping in and out relentlessly. Every time his curled digits brushed against your g-spot you feel the all too familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.

“Ryo! m’close…” You whine softly looking down at him. He only grins in response glancing at his advisor.

“Don’t tell me.” He growls “Tell Uraume how you feel.”

Tears now pricked your eyes, the overwhelming sensation proving too much for you. You look up at Uraume through wet lashes.

“U-Uraume… I’m fuckkk gonna cum!” You whimper, they don’t respond—instead squeezing your hand tighter as they struggle to breathe.

Sukuna smirks as his wife and most trusted attendant share the intimate eye contact. His own cock twitching in excitement.

“Uraume…” he hums in mockery “She’s right on the edge, should we give her what she wants?”

Their eyes flit between you and Sukuna, feeling dizzy with pleasure. You looked so needy, so desperate for release. They couldn’t deny you any longer. They needed to see you come undone.

“P-please Uraume.” You choke out—hiccuping as fat tears rolled down your face. “Can’t take much more!”

Uraume lets out a shaky breath, their gaze never leaving yours.

“Y-yes! Please my lord!” Their voice almost matching your own desperation.

And with one more thrust of his thick fingers your body shakes. You cry out in pleasure. Writhing as Uraume’s nails dig into the flesh of your hand, holding your hand in a vice grip. A gasp escaping their lips.

Sukuna slowly removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to Uraume’s face teasingly before sucking them clean of your slick. A silent reminder that you would always be his.

Sukuna and Uraume fix their gaze on you, sprawled out on the sheets, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He glances over at them, noticing how their lips were parted. How their eyes were glued to you. As if they dared to blink you would disappear.

“She’s beautiful… isn’t she Uraume?” He purrs, lightly tracing the curves of your body.

“Yes master… she is… perfect.”

[moechies]

cockwarming w/ toji !! 𝜚 𓈒 kitty hybrid

toji’s kitty girlfriend who purrs when she feels too good :3

impaled on the fat girthy cock of your beloved owner, wet slick pasting his strong thighs and soft cunt throbbing against his plump balls.

you gently groom the slight stubble on his soft chin, dragging your tongue over and over against his jaw, humming and purring with delight.

your thighs shiver gently below, and toji feels it; the way your soft skin trembles against his waist. he’s entertained with his new pet, and enjoys her grooming but doesn’t forget about her bad habit; her sharp little claws dug deep into his back, drawing strings of crimson blood.

he would tell you to stop, pull the soft endearing hands of your own away from his skin, but he can’t fathom the pouty look on your face if he were to do so. a nervous glimmer in your eyes as your ears fold back when you realize what you’ve been doing to hurt your sweet master, and all unintentionally because you were caught up in the overwhelming pleasure of getting to groom and warm him.

“cuteee fuckin’ kitty, aren’t you?”

so he lets it by this time, lets you continue your kitten licks to his face, sneaking in a couple long kisses against his top lip, or the corner of his mouth. he pulls you close when he feels your little body vibrate gently against his own, consistent and satisfied purrs accompanied by honeyed chants of, ‘i love you, master’ s.

toji chuckles, scratching gently behind your ear and stroking the soft fluff. he thrusts above out of the blue, girthy cock bottoming out fully and impaling your poor cunt. you squeal unexpectedly, nails digging a tad deeper into the man’s back. he hisses at the pain, but laughs it off in mere seconds.

he looks below, attentive to the way you purr against his chest, face hidden against his fat tit. you purr loudly, along with short breathy moans, ones you try to cover up with heavy breaths in hopes they toji won’t hear.

“m-master.” you purr, holding back pants.

“what is it, kitty?” toji grins, hand moving from your waist and coming up to your neck. he fidgets at your little bell of a collar, engraved nicely on the metal in a bold cursive, ‘return to toji fushiguro if lost ♡.’ he smiles at the memory that plays of your sweet self when he first showed you the endearing gift.

“wan’ it, please, wan’ you to fuck me.”

“oh? that’s so dirty, sweet thing.” he teases, lifting your face by your chin to face him. your cheeks flush and your lips are pouty, and you’ve never looked cuter.

“n-not true. wan’ your milk, daddy.” you whisper with a sly smile, eyes lidded as you resume your gentle purring.

“is that right..” he mumbles. he thrusts up once again, moving himself forward so that you’re leaning against him, hands pressed against his chest.

“how does this little kitty want it ?” you assume he’s referring to you, but instead he drags a heavy finger from your soft butt, tracing against your skin to reach your soft belly; landing right above the imprint of his cock. his digit presses on the budge slightly, making you squirm before he moves down to your cute pussy, leaving swipes across your pearly clit.

“master—“

“tell me, pretty little thing.”

“from behind, please, doggy. wan’ y’to fuck me from b-behind, ‘kay?”

“oh, aren’t you just so sweet.”

you hiccup, feeling the man’s large body splay across your back as you’re placed gently on your arms and knees. his cock doesn’t dislodge from you once, fat tip nudged snugly in your cunt as he flips you over. your face plants into the soft sheets, knees melting into the mattress with the man’s added weight.

“doggy.. ironic, huh?” he laughs.

“stooop it..” you purr into the sheets, fur clad tail tickling at his soft skin.

his hand wraps around the base of your tail, tugging it up high for easier access. he watches how your milky pussy throbs erratically around him, rim of your stretched cunt a tad shade darker.

slick drools from your soddened holes against your thighs, transferring and coating his cock and the scruffy hairs against his shaft. your folds perfectly accommodate his cock, wrapping neatly around the man’s girth.

your butthole sits above your pretty pussy perfectly, clenching ever so often at the vulnerability of the position, and how you can basically feel the man’s eyes boring into your cunt, and chubby butt.

“master— hnn… no more staring please, w-wan’ you to fuck me !” you shimmy your butt closer to his pelvis, moaning when you press yourself impossibly further onto his dick. “m-master! pleaseee..!”

“shh calm down, little pet. y’r gonna get what ya want, i promise.”

your tail wraps around his forearm, leading his hand to your waist. you gaze back at him with lidded eyes, glimmering in the dim light with coated, pouty lips. “master—“

“settle down, now. trust me, this little pussy’s gonna get what she wants.” he leans over, catching your lips in a heated kiss. “..and this one too.” he mumbles against your lips. you feel the corner of his mouth curl, scar dragging across your lips as he brings a thumb against your clit.

[purplefeathersandblackleather]

Mhmmm~ What a lovely thing to see before bed.

Iron Man 2 (Behind the Scenes)

[hoshigray]

js thinking abt sukuna fucking reader and toji at the same time (you can add aftercare if you want) 🫦🫦

၇͜ᩘ𑁍 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - smutty then fluffy - size difference - double penetration; anal & vaginal + 2 dick! kuna - biting - back-to-front + missionary positions - prostate orgasm - light choking - pet names (baby, little girl, mama, princess) - aftercare; cleaning + massages + cuddles - mention of drool/spit.

Sukuna, ironically born as a cursed man, was blessed with something that most beings on this Earth lack.

“Fuuuck, goddamn, y’ feel so good, baby.” 

“Haaahhh, ohmyGo—Ahhh! S-so f’ll…”

And now, he uses it to please the two sprawled under his bow. 

In his shared quarters, the four-armed beast spends tonight in the comfort of his two partners. Candles lit to bask the room in a warm glow, nude bodies stripped of their clothes and situated upon the soft futon that cushions below them.

Toji lay first, his bare back to the soft surface while your back was glued to his front, exchanging sweat with the heat as he held your legs up by the back of your knees. Sukuna towers the both of you; his lower hands keep Toji’s arms spread for easier access to his two cocks—one for each of his companions. 

The top cock was buried into your cunt, clenching on the girth with every scrape of your upper wall, causing you to whimper uncontrollably. The lower one is currently inside Toji’s ass, pushing his frame with every push of the hips, which aids him into thrusting into your anus all the while. 

“OhhGaaahhd!” The air around is steamy; hot skin meshed onto yours, and wet kisses are placed on your neck and cheek by Toji. “Feel so good, so…biiig!”

“Haaah, heh, I know, mama,” the raven-haired one huffs hotly to your ear. “Y’re doin’ good, though…Hnnnm! Holyfuuck, ‘Kuna!” 

A guttural chuckle is heard while the tongue of his stomach teases your thighs with licks. “What did I do? Was it…this?” He snaps his pelvis, and both his dicks venture deep into the both of you. A poke to your cervix, combined with a graze to the tissue of his prostate, has you and Toji moan in unison. “Hmph, felt that good, huh?”

“—Ghhhh, fuck, y’re such a dick,” Toji laughs hoarsely while his face is guided by your hand to bring him in for a kiss. The two of you sigh at the feel of each other’s lips, your tongue licking his def scar while placing soft pecks on the corner of his mouth.

Four scarlet eyes narrow at the sight of his partners being intimate under him, unable to suppress the predatory purr of his grin. The mouth of his abdomen lays smooches to your tummy—albeit a little sloppy yet endearing—and he cups your cheeks to face him the moment your kiss with Toji breaks, heavy pants causing the air to get hotter. “Enjoyin’ yourself, aren’t you, little girl?” He sneaks another rut to have you both curl your toes.

Your hands come up to hold the giant’s face. “Nahaaa, Suk’naaa,” the way you say his name makes him gulp. “I’m close, so cl—Mmmphfuuck!!”

“Fuck, you smell good,” the scent of your lotion clouds his nostrils as he bends down, the addition of his weight cages both you and Toji. His upper right hand comes to your throat, pressing on it not to choke but enough to deepen your haze. The same goes for Toji with the wrap of his upper left hand. “Gonna be good and wring me out, right?”

“Yessss,” you nod with a ditzy smile. “Make us cummm like you know how…!” 

He liked the sound of that. “Then stay still, and let me end this.”

Sukuna releases both throats and uses his upper hands as leverage while flexing his abdomen, his pelvis hammering his cocks down to the hilt, slapping his heavy balls onto Toji’s taint. Wails and groans of pleasure are expressed in the room’s atmosphere. More hits to your womb has you wrap your arms around Sukuna’s wide neck, clamping your walls more onto your husbands’ dicks. The length inside Toji keeps rubbing his prostate, and the deep murmurs flying out his scarred mouth sound bewitching to your ear. 

It isn’t before long that you submit to the climb of your orgasm; the contraction of your asshole and cunt have the two men hiss. Toji is second to succumb to an orgasm, ejecting his load into your tight channel while burrowing his face close to your neck. The both of you climaxing on Sukuna’s shafts are too good to avoid, pushing him into releasing his semen into his mortal lovers with a grunt. Shocks are shared amongst each other, and Sukuna claims your lips with his own, shoving his tongue inside for you to tend and hum to.

A few more pumps of his hips before the behemoth lets his muscles relax, sighing deeply to your kiss until you need air, placing his heavy forehead on yours. All three figures calm down, allowing the sounds of crickets outside to act like a spell to center themselves. Sukuna’s exhale tickles your skin. “You two did well.”

Toji scoffs. “We hope so; puttin’ us through a workout.” The salmon-haired other begins to move, slowly withdrawing his lengths from his partners. You and Toji sigh breathlessly at the subtraction, and your body slides off the onyx-headed one. “So much fr’ takin’ a bath before this, huh, princess.”

You titter aimlessly. “At least we came prepared.” Your conversation is cut short as Sukuna returns with a wooden bucket and washcloth. He wrings the cloth of the water and damps it around your lower half, wiping the come that’s spilling out and messing your thighs. He massages your ankles with his lower hands while he works. “And as promised, Sukuna takes care of his mess.”He glares at you while you giggle. He then places your legs down and does the same to Toji, wiping his ass with the warm washcloth. 

“That’s true,” the mortal man chuckles as Sukuna pushes Toji’s left leg to his chest, cleaning the excess come trinkled to his bum. “Not gonna have us all sweaty and sticky fr’ nothin’.”

“Shut up and get ready for sleep,” he ignores you two laughing at him while he stands to dismiss the bucket and cloth out of the room. A hand comes up and quickly moves with the flick of his fore and middle finger, slicing the burning ends of the candles to darken the room. He finds the futon, grabs the comforter from behind, and positions himself between you and Toji—his upper arms pulling both of you closer for warmth to flourish.

“Thank you, my Lord,” you say with appreciation, answered by a low purl by the behemoth. You then cling close, “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Night, baby.”

Crimson eyes don’t close until the two pairs of eyelids fall on their own, and Sukuna finally lets the darkness keep you three warm and safe.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[drmaddict]

Pet dates

Summary: When Theo took a cat into his dormitory one evening, he didn't expect to wake up next to a girl the next morning. (Y/n), who was walking around the school in her Animagus form, didn't really expect to be used as a teddy bear that night either.

Wordcount: 3.748

I taped quietly through the nightly corridors of Hogwarts. As an Animagus, I enjoyed the freedom of not being noticed. Another cat in the corridors. Who would even waste a glance? I was enjoying the darkness of the night with my adjusted eyes when I saw three figures. They came closer quietly.

"Shh!", one of them hissed.

"Hey, you had to sneak into the library, didn't you?", hissed the next one.

I recognized Draco Malfoy first. His light-colored hair was immediately noticeable. Then Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott.

Draco and Mattheo walked past me, but Theodore stopped.

"Hello there.", he whispered and held out his hand to me. "Come here piccola bellezza."

"Dude, leave the cat alone and come here.", Draco hissed.

Theo ignored him and stroked my head with his fingertips. Out of instinct, I began to purr.

To be honest, I don't get touched very often. Neither as a cat, nor as a human. Theodore smiled. "Have you been locked out?" He stroked my back with just the right amount of pressure. "It's far too cold out here. Come on. It's warm in our dorm."

Still completely caught up in the pleasure of his touch, I reacted too late. I found myself pressed against his chest. Most girls would kill for this opportunity. Maybe I would too, but somehow you imagine this in a different context.

Theodore caught up with the other two.

Draco just rolled his eyes, but Mattheo looked at me closely. A grin stretched across his face as he looked me straight in the eye, as if he knew exactly who I was. "Interesting.", he whispered.

"What?", Theodore asked, confused.

Mattheo bent down to my eye level. "Come on then, little mouse.", he grinned.

I wriggled against the iron grip around me. "Stop that! You're making her nervous.", Theodore grumbled.

"Guys, can we please go now?" growled Draco, annoyed. The three of them started moving again.

"What is it with you and cats anyway?" Draco asked into the silence.

"They're cats.", Theodore replied, as if that explained everything.

When the three of them arrived in their common room, Theodore sat me down on his bed. Blaise Zabini was lying on the opposite one, leafing through a book. He raised a well-formed eyebrow.

"Weren't you going to get a book?"

"Shut up.", grumbled Theodore.

"Theo just picked up a little girlfriend on the way.", grinned Riddle. "That's nothing new."

I gave him a dirty glare. Somehow the bastard knew exactly, who I was.

I jumped off the bed and went to the door. I scratched at it and meowed angrily, but Theodore just grabbed me again and sat me on the bed.

"It's all right. Nothing will happen to you here."

I exhaled in annoyance. Riddle reached for me with one hand, grinning, but I immediately slapped his hand away.

"Ow!" he hissed and stuck his bleeding finger in his mouth. "You little-"

I instinctively stood up to my full height and hissed at him.

Theodore pushed him away from me.

"She scratched me!", Riddle hissed.

"You scared her." grumbled Theodore.

Turning to his bed, he pulled his shirt over his head and let his pants slide to the floor.

I quickly turned to the wall and looked at the green fabric of the four-poster bed. The world was unfair. The guy didn't have one bloody flaw.

I heard Riddle snicker. Asshole.

Theodore lay down under the covers. Without a warning, he pulled me against him like I was a teddy bear. He stroked my stomach slowly. I let out a surrendered breath. I didn't even notice that I was falling asleep from the gentle caresses.

The next morning, I woke up to someone stroking my head.

"Morning Bella.", someone whispered.

My brain kick-started. I was in Theodore Nott's bed. He was still holding me. I was - thank God - still a cat.... I hadn't slept this well in a long time.

But I'd never slept as a cat either, so that was probably it.

Theodore stroked my stomach in slow circles. The purring immediately started again. I looked at him. He was smiling gently. I didn't really know him, but he always seemed so cold in the corridors. Very different from now. He closed his eyes and continued to run his fingers through my fur.

I was too rarely really touched not to enjoy this.

I allowed the caress and closed my eyes until Riddle's voice rang out.

Whereupon a scream was heard. Theodore's scream.

I felt my body expand.

I looked into Theodore's horrified face.

I looked around in panic. Riddle laughed. "There are spells that can force an Animagus back into its human form."

I glanced at Theodore again before running off frantically. As soon as I opened the door, I sprinted back through the corridors in cat form.

I felt like throwing up.

Theo's POV

I was still looking after the girl in shock.

We had potions together. I didn't know her name though. Mattheo was still laughing.

"You knew that?", I snapped at him.

He just shrugged and threw himself back into bed. "You seem to have acted with mutual consent."

I threw my alarm clock at him.

(Y/n)s POV

"Where have you been?", Jenny asked me, as I walked into our common room.

"Nowhere.", I said way too quickly.

"But-"

"Nowhere!", I babbled frantically and immediately locked myself in the bathroom.

Now everyone will know. I ruffled my hair. I had always kept the authorization for the Animagus a secret. It should remain a secret. God, they're all going to shoot their mouths off. The little freak who clings to the school crush par excellence and crawls into his bed without hin knowing.

I forced myself to take a deep breath.

Bloody hell.

I skipped breakfast. As small as I could, I sat down in Potions class and looked at my book.

I heard everyone filling the room, but continued to not look up. I breathed a sigh of relief when Snape finally walked into the room in his usual dramatic fashion.

"You will form groups today."

I looked dully at the blackboard. Was he serious?

He called out the pairs stoically.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Theodore Nott."

Was he fucking serious?

I buried my face in my hands. What had I done? What did I do to deserve this?

I heard a pile of books being dropped on the desk.

I looked up into Theodore Nott's usual cold face. My face felt incredibly hot.

Snape explained the day's task and then sat down at his desk.

Silently, I began sorting the ingredients.

Theodore skimmed over the instructions.

"Can you please not tell anyone?", I whispered.

He didn't respond. I sighed. "I dont want to push you... But that I'm an Animagus... Only I knew that until yesterday."

He grumbled.

"I wanted to leave, but you wouldn't let me.", I grumbled back.

"Because I thought you were a cat.", he hissed.

"Why are you taking some stranger's cat with you anyway?"

He faltered. "None of your business."

I sighed in annoyance and turned up the flame.

"Was it that bad?", he grumbled quietly.

"What?"

"Lying in my bed with me."

I glanced at the kettle. "No." I admitted.

He stirred like the instructions said. "We're good at keeping our mouths shut. So don't worry."

I looked at his cold face. How could he be so different to the boy this morning? That warm and relaxed smile.

"Thank you.", I whispered.

I sprinted through the corridors as fast as my paws could carry me. That damn Miss Noris had it in for me.

I whizzed around the corner and immediately collided with a pair of legs.

I heard the cat behind me. I stood up and hissed at her.

"Go on. Go away.", said the owner of the legs and gently shooed her away.

Miss Noris gave me another challenging look and then slunk around the corner.

Theodore sighed. He glanced toward me. "(Y/n)?", he asked cautiously.

I nodded.

"Being a cat, you sure do pick fights, don't you?"

I grumbled. I didn't start it.

He smirked. "Don't get caught away."

His hand moved to my head, but stopped in mid-motion. He stretched his fingers once and pulled them back towards him. "See you."

I could feel myself wanting that touch. Even though I couldn't say why, I was far braver as a cat than as a human. So I trotted past him and stroked his legs once. A few steps away, I stopped again and looked at him. A small smile appeared on his face.

He shook his head at me. "We'll keep this between us," he murmured.

I nodded and walked back towards my common room. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation on my head.

The next day, Theodore suddenly sat down next to me in Potions. I looked irritatedly from him to his clicke and back again.

"Hi.", he just said and put his books on the table.

"Uhh... Hi.", I faltered.

He looked straight at me and leaned slightly towards me. "If I'm wrong, just forget it and pretend I never said anything.", he started. I nodded hesitantly. In a whisper, he continued. "You seem to like it when people... pet you.", he began.

I nodded. "I think we'd both benefit from seeing each other... meet like this more often.", he mumbled.

I looked at him, confused. "You want... What, petting dates?", I asked.

"Forget it.", he grumbled and tried to get up, but I held him by his sleeve.

"Now wait a minute. I'm just surprised.", I explained. He sat down again. I played with my quill. "I don't think I'd mind, but why don't you just get a cat... Well, if you like them so much."

"I'm not allowed.", he explained curtly.

"Oh."

"Yup."

I prepared my roll of parchment. "When do you want to start?"

I noticed his shoulders relax slightly. Today at seven. Come to the library. I'll sit at the back."

I nodded as Snape came bounding through the door.

I crept through the library, keeping an eye out for Theodore.

Hidden at the very back, he was sitting and flicking through a book, bored.

I jumped onto the table next to him and looked at the manuscript. He flinched slightly, when I landed next to him. "Hi," he whispered. He pointed to his scarf, which he had provisionally draped into a small bed. "Make yourself comfortable."

I lay down hesitantly on the green fabric. I pulled it here and there to make myself comfortable. When I was satisfied and lay down, I noticed Theodore grinning at me and shaking his head slightly. I grumbled slightly. He put his hand on my head and started to run it through my fur. I immediately started purring. He applied the perfect amount of pressure again. I closed my eyes in pleasure and let my limbs grow heavy.

"So we can do this more often?", he asked softly. I nodded and let out a small gasp. I lazily opened one eye. He had rested his head on his hand and was looking relaxed at me. I let myself fall onto my side and continued purring to myself.

We met up more often since then. Sometimes even just like that. Without fur. He had immediately made it clear that he only wanted to be called Theo when I had first spoken to him. Now we were sitting in the three brooms, drinking butterbeer.

"Don't you want to join your friends?" I asked.

He waved me off. "Oh Draco's studying to beat Granger today. Blaise has a date and Mattheo... I don't want to know."

He took a big sip from his glass.

"What do you actually get out of these meetings?" I asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It relaxes me.", he admitted. "Most people just want sex."

I let my fingers scratch his scalp once. His ears turned red. I grinned. "Do you want to swap roles?"

He remained silent. "It wouldn't be a problem.", I mumbled. "Quit pro quo.", I shrugged.

He held on to his glass. "Would you?", he asked, looking stubbornly at the table.

"Sure.", I said, shrugging my shoulders.

He downed the rest of his beer and stood up. He held his hand out to me. "You coming?"

I let him pull me along.

He poked his head into the bedroom and exhaled with relief. Quickly, he pushed me inside. No one was there. He waved his wand and the curtains of his bed were already drawn. We sat down behind the curtains. I leaned back against the headboard and looked at Theo, waiting. He cast a silencing spell on the bed before lying down hesitantly on the pillow. I stroked his thick curls. He exhaled calmly and just let himself be pampered. It was unusual, but... nice.

Theo's POV

I was already poking around in my food, bored, when Mattheo sat down next to me on the bench.

"Tell me, when do you actually fuck each other?", he grinned.

I looked at him blankly. "Who are you talking about?"

Mattheo shook his head in amusement. "Well, your kitten."

I furrowed my eyebrows in irritation.

"Are you stalking me?"

Mattheo was still shoveling his food onto his plate with amusement. "You forget I know what goes on with people in here." He tapped his own forehead and grinned. "The little one has the hots for you. Even if she doesn't really know it herself yet."

He leaned his head on one hand. "But you're no better."

My hand closed convulsively around my fork. Anger bubbled up inside me. "You swore you'd stay out of our heads."

"I can't always completely suppress it.", Mattheo shrugged. "But you're into each other. In a weird beastly way." He shoved pumpkin paste into his mouth. "Why don't you make some cute little kittens then?"

I spat at him. "If you ever get lost in my head again, I'll make sure you can never grasp even a simple thought of yourself ever again." I stood up jerkily and left the Great Hall.

What was that even supposed to mean (Y/n) fancies me? We were... Friends? Damn we were friends. I liked her. Because we were friends. How by Merlin's fucking beard did that happen?

(Y/n)s POV

Theo was avoiding me. Had been all week. I didn't know if I'd done anything wrong, but he was avoiding me.

I was walking through the library to check out a potions book when I saw him between one of the back shelves. I stopped with a jolt. He had a girl pressed up against the shelf. He was literally devouring her. As quickly as possible, I turned around and left, but not without catching my bag on the shelf and catapulting a handful of books onto the floor.

They fluttered around until they were put back in their places.

I looked into the expressionless face of Theo and the grinning face of a blonde Ravenclaw girl.

"Sorry.", I babbled and disappeared as quickly as I could.

He could have just said he was seeing someone. Damn it, I really didn't insist that we see each other. After all, he had started the whole thing. I sat down defiantly in the courtyard. That we could become friends? But... Hadn't we become friends somewhere?

I sighed. Maybe I was just imagining it.

I was trotting through the corridors when I heard him.

"Hey.... Hey wait a minute! Damn it, stop!"

I sprinted on, but somehow Theo caught up with me. He quickly picked me up and hugged me to him. He held my front and back paws in one hand each so that I couldn't scratch him. I wriggled around wildly in his arms.

"No, you're coming with me now.", he scolded.

He carried me into the dungeon to his dormitory and threw me roughly onto his bed. He breathed in and out heavily from the effort of holding me down. I did the same. My ears were pinned back and I glared at him angrily.

"Everyone out!", he ordered without looking at anyone in the room.

They left the dormitory grumbling. I made a dash for the open door, but Theo immediately held me down. "Don't even think about it.", he hissed.

I hissed back. What the fuck was that about?

He didn't want to talk to me anymore.

The door closed. I sat petulantly on the bed.

"Now... Become a fucking human being! I want to talk!"

All of a sudden he wanted to talk. He ignored the fact that I even existed for two weeks and suddenly he wanted to talk.

I turned my back to him and flattened my ears.

"I'm sorry, okay?", he groaned, annoyed.

I didn't move.

He walked around the bed to look at me. He squatted down in front of me.

"I've been thinking," he said angrily. "Damn I'm not used to this friendship crap!"

I continued to sulk.

"Especially not with girls." He sat down on the floor. "It's unusual and scares me." A pout now appeared on his face too. "With girls, I usually only want sex and not... the rest." He got quieter and quieter.

I looked at him in surprise.

He buried his face in his hands. "Could I speak to a human now, please?"

I let myself change into my human form.

"What does that mean exactly?", I asked, looking down at him.

He looked stubbornly at the edge of the bed. "Probably that I want a relationship.", he said, as irritated as if he could hardly believe it himself.

"With me?", I asked, confused.

He looked at me as if I was dumb. "Of course with you! With who else?"

"No idea! Maybe Miss Ravenclaw." I threw my hands up in the air, annoyed.

"Are you jealous?"

"No.", I pouted.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

"She's jealous!", Mattheo shouted from the other side of the door.

I growled, annoyed. "How-"

"He can read minds... by nature."

"That damn-"

"Hey! Concentrate!" He pulled my face towards him. His hands were warm on my cheeks. "If you're jealous, it's probably because you don't find the idea so far-fetched."

"Maybe." I mumbled and looked into his blue eyes.

"Possibly.", he nodded. He pushed me onto the bed and himself on top of me. His lips met mine hard. Large hands slid over my body with determination. Overwhelmed, I reached into his hair and tried to keep up with him. It was no secret that he was experienced. You could guess that I wasn't. He let his mouth wander to my neck, held my jaw gently but firmly to get a better grip on my throat and licked over the main artery, which was pulsating fast and furiously. I closed my eyes in pleasure and a soft moan escaped me.

The door pushed open. "Dude I'm not waiting for you to finish here now." Draco Malfoy walked towards his desk. "I have to study.", he clarified. Theo rolled his eyes. I fought my way back to clear thoughts.

"About time.", Zabini said dryly and lay back down on his bed.

Theo reached for his wand and the curtains closed immediately. This was followed by a silencing spell.

He looked me straight in the eye.  "I don't know how relationships work.", he admitted. "But I'm a quick learner."

I smirked. "I wouldn't know either." I closed my eyes in embarrassment. "I don't even know how..."

Theo's hand went back to my jaw. "I'll show you.", he sighed and lunged at my neck again.

I plucked grumpily at my collar. Theo grinned. I glared at him. He grinned wider.

Makeup with 100% coverage was all over my neck and the dark marks were still visible.

He had casually thrown an arm around me as we walked to Potions together. His mask once again completely the serene Theodore Nott that everyone knew.

His fingers ran over my neck.

"Don't do that," I grumbled.

"You liked it yesterday.", he grinned.

I poked him in the ribs.

"YES!" someone shouted in the corridor. "No Potions today!"

Draco, who was walking ahead of us, stuffed his notes into his pocket, annoyed. "If anyone's looking for me, I'm sleeping in until Monday.", he announced, shuffling down the corridor to the common room. The boy had been studying all night. The dark shadows lay heavy under his eyes.

"Early weekend.", Theo sighed, continuing to stroke circles over my neck.

Less than an hour later, we were sitting in the Slytherin common room. Theo was sitting in one of the wing chairs with his legs up, enjoying the warm fire. With his eyes closed, he stroked my fur lazily. I was curled up on his chest, my head in the crook of his neck, purring happily to myself.

Bonus Fluff

Draco and Zabini were once again arguing as only the two of them could. Theo was sitting on his bed and I was on his lap.

I curled up and let myself be stroked. My cat instincts were on fire today.

I smelled her on his fingers. This little one from Ravenclaw. They had played Quidditch against each other. Slytherin had won.

She had hugged him and grabbed his hand. Her scent was there. It wouldn't go away.

"What are you doing?", Theo asked suddenly. I licked his hand and couldn't stop. He belonged to me. He didn't have to smell like anyone else. "Hey, don't do that. That tickles." He tried to pull his hand away, but I nibbled on his finger. "Hey no teeth!" He pulled his hand away in a flash. I growled.

Behind me, Mattheo laughed. "Your little flea slinger is jealous. You reek of someone else."

I took advantage of the brief second Theo was inattentive and latched onto his arm. I immediately rubbed my head against his hand. "Are you marking me right now?", he asked incredulously.

I growled again. Yes, I was jealous. So what? I nibbled on his little finger again. He sighed and lifted me to his chest. A mistake. His neck smelled like her too. I immediately licked it. "Hey!" He tried to push me away, but I clawed at his shirt. "Claws! Claws!" he shouted frantically and grabbed my paws. I put my front paws around his neck.

"Okay.", he sighed. "Let off some steam."

I purred and rubbed my head along his chin.

[euthymiya]

rumors — ft. kamisato ayato

@ficsforgaza kinktober day 3 — kamisato ayato + creampie

synopsis: you hear people whisper about the one thing you and ayato lack. an heir. your husband is more than happy to silence those whispers with his own methods

includes: 1.6k word count (i tried to keep it short i’m sorry it exceeded the limit) ; female wife reader ; 18+ mature content (no minors!) ; talks of pregnancy and children ; implied arranged marriage ; fingering, unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; slight breeding kink thrown in too oops

notes: @resibonin manuuuu my love tysm for indulging me with a request like this i was so excited when i was told what jr was <3 i hope i did your request justice and tysm for donating to this cause!! <3

“There’s something troubling you,�� Ayato hums.

You send a fleeting glance at his figure. He’s sat at the desk he’s placed in the corner of your shared chamber as he looks up from his papers to meet your eyes. It’s to be closer to you, he’d said the night he set it up, beaming proudly at himself. Ayato does not like to do work in his office when you are sitting alone in bed. He finds it troublesome to concentrate when his mind drifts to you.

Ironically, he hardly ever does any work when he’s near you, too.

“What do you mean?” You set your book down, raising an eyebrow.

He quirks his lips up into a knowing smile, one that makes you feel shy already as he purrs, “I can see it on your face. There is something on your mind.”

He’s right. There is something on your mind. Regrettably, word spreads in Inazuma quickly.

You’ve heard…rumors. They mainly target you. Often about your ability to carry an heir, perhaps, or even your willingness to. You’ve heard them through hushed whispers in the estate and through loud conversations while passing in town.

It’s not true, of course. You’re not unwilling nor unable. In fact, you think an heir would be nice—it’s just that you have yet to discuss such matters with Ayato.

(You don’t know how to. It’s easier with Ayaka than it is with your own husband to discuss the future of your marriage potentially taking place. You don’t know if it’s time to take the step yet—your wedding was a small, quiet affair and arranged quickly enough that you didn’t fall for Ayato until some time into your marriage. It only made sense at the time to have the maids fetch you tea from the sakura blossom after things turned more…intimate in your development with Ayato.)

You love him, though—as does he love you. So much so, that he notices the signs of something wrong before you’re even aware you’re projecting them.

“I’ve just been thinking of the public, is all,” you say vaguely. You should know by now Ayato would never settle for accepting that.

“What about them, my dear wife?”

“Th-they speak, my lord,” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Equal parts because you have a sense of shame (that Ayato does not) and equal parts because he will surely be amused should you look into his eyes.

You’re right—you can hear the amusement in his tone when he murmurs, “Is that so? And what, pray tell, do they speak about?”

“Us,” you huff indignantly. “They…have much to discuss when it comes to our matters.”

“We are deeply influential people in this nation, my dear,” he chuckles. You throw him a glare that he easily grins wider at, “Surely, a few comments about political cornerstones such as ourselves are to be expected?”

“But they’re shamelessly invasive, Ayato,” you all but squawk. If not for your mother’s strict lessons of primness, you’re certain you’d have lost your composure on your husband far earlier into this conversation.

His eyes narrow playfully, a sort of look on his face you don’t like. He has an upper hand you can’t quite put your finger on—but he’s a step ahead. That much you know.

“Tell me, my dear. What is it that they speak of that crosses these boundaries you’re so worried about? Tell me and I shall handle it so my precious wife can rest in peace. I wouldn’t want it to keep you up at night.”

“Very funny, Ayato,” you spit. You don’t meet his gaze as you opt for staring at your fingers, fiddling them in your lap as you mumble quietly, “They…they speak of an heir, my lord. M-more specifically, the lack of…the lack of one being conceived by…”

“By who?” He plays dumb, eyes sparkling as you glare at him sharply.

“By us, you utter fool,” you throw your hands up. Your mother would be truly disappointed in your slip of composure, but Ayato has a fierce way of settling under your skin.

An itch you’ll never reach no matter how deep your nails sink into your skin.

“Ah,” he nods slowly, “So they’ve taken to commenting on the lack of our children, is that it?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “And I do not appreciate it.”

“Then I shall have to dirty my hands and fix this issue, no?”

Your eyes twinkle at that, finally happy with the words of your husband as you nod earnestly. “Yes, my darling husband. It would be very much appreciated should you put an end to these abysmally shameless comments.”

“Alright then,” he grins wickedly.

A part of you feels a bit bad for the poor victim of Ayato’s problem solving process. He’s a bit swift with the punishment he deals—and effective too, when it comes from the shadows. People fear what they cannot control. Your husband is one of those things.

Except he does not seem to take matters into his hands the way you expect him to. He’s standing, walking up to you where you sit on the bed, eyes hungry and predatory in a way you’re all too familiar with, and all too unprepared for.

“What—what are you…” you stutter as he hovers over you, his lips slowly kiss up your neck, settling against your pulse point to suck gently.

“I am dirtying my hands to solve the problem,” he murmurs, voice deep and sultry enough that you shiver from the sound alone. “If, perhaps…there is an heir inside of you…well, you see what I mean, don’t you? The comments will surely have to cease.”

“W-what? B-but—”

“Ayaka tells me you often think of the joys of motherhood. You seem particularly fond of a child with my eyes, it seems? Perhaps you should indulge your husband of such desires instead of your sister-in-law. After all, I am much more fit to offer a remedy to your longing.”

“Oh,” you gasp, just as his fingers wander up the edge of your gown and slip past your panties, sinking into your cunt. “P-please…”

“Please what? Give you an heir? One with my eyes and your smile, perhaps?” He teases.

You nod. Desperately so. Ayato can tease you all he wants, you decide—he might feel like he’s won some one sided battle by pushing at your buttons, but in the end the building pressure between your legs feels like a much larger win.

And it is. You cum on his fingers easily—partly because he’s good with them. Good with you. He knows what you like and where you like it, just like a dutiful husband.

So, like a dutiful wife, you spread your legs and accommodate him. His cock is hard, leaking with a generously large amount of pre cum that you know is not a coincidence. He shivers as the tip pushes past your folds, a low, breathy groan that he lets out right against the shell of your ear as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he curses, “You are divine, do you know? You feel it too.”

“Less talking,” you whine, “Move, Ayato.”

“As you wish,” he laughs. It’s a sweet sound—despite his ability to irk you often, you are quite fond of your husband. In love with him, even—enough so, that simple joy on his face makes a flutter in your belly that you’re sure he feels through a particularly tight squeeze around his cock.

He groans, letting out soft, labored pants against your ear as his hips thrust sharply into you, the thick head of his cock nudging past your folds and burying deep into the spongy spot in the back that he has memorized.

“More, more, more—” you chant, “‘M s-so close—”

“Already?” He gasps, a smug, lopsided smirk on his lips. You glare up at him before wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him into your cunt deeper. Closer. Harder.

“O-oh, Gods,” he moans, stuttering his hips for a moment before they fuck into you harsher, a sloppy and quicker pace that lacks his earlier rhythm. His tip angles to hit sensitive parts of you that only Ayato discovers.

He’s close, you can tell by the sloppy tempo of his thrusts. You’re closer, and you know he can tell because he quickens that tempo if only a little.

It’s enough to make pleasure erupt a second time, rolling through hot waves along your body as your walls flutter around him. They squeeze him tight—enough that he whines before releasing his own cum into you.

“I shall fill you to the brim,” his voice is low. There’s a promise in his tone as he continues, “As many times as I have to. Until you are walking around this estate swollen with my child for all to know that I’ve done this. Me.”

“You,” you agree through a whimper, clenching around him at the words. “F-fill me up, Ayato.”

Thick and hot, his seed fucks deep into your walls, sharp thrusts of his twitching cock burying it further and further until you’re sure being full of his seed even just this once will leave you swollen with his child. He seems to think it, too, because his eyes are transfixed between your bodies, dazed as he watches the mess of his cum leaking from your cunt and dripping down your thigh in a thick, slow rivulet.

“Had your fill?” You ask tiredly when he finally finishes, slowing to a stop. You roll your eyes as he throws you a wolfish grin.

“Perhaps for now,” he drawls, “I shall stay inside of you like this for a bit to ensure it takes.” He presses his hips closer to yours, softening cock burying deeper into your cunt for emphasis as he sinks his weight over you. You roll your eyes and bury your hand into his sweaty hair.

“So what takes?”

“My seed, of course,” he says as though it’s obvious.

“Ayato!” You squeal, slapping at his shoulder as he laughs.

“Be sure to let the maids know that you will not be needing the sakura blossom tea. Or perhaps…perhaps I’ll tell them myself—they’re good at gossiping. You might not have to worry about the comments of the public for long.”

“You are exceedingly troublesome, my darling husband.”

“Do you love me for it?”

“Unfortunately, I do,” you grin. He kisses you, and you can’t help but melt and reciprocate—in the future, it might be difficult to enjoy such moments of intimacy should a child be born.

You figure you should enjoy your husband while he’s yours alone for as long as you can.

I think this is slightly more plot build up than it is smut. The smut was rushed for the sake of the word count limit so this definitely isn’t my best piece but I hope it was still a decent read </3

[syoddeye]

ai price realizing he has access to all your money and websites that sell remotely controlled sex toys: ohohohoho

great minds think alike. lightly edited. other entries.

cw: brief mention of nutrition/diet referencing iron supplements, voice kink, sex toys, probably technological inaccuracies

“‘older man and woman’...‘hairy’...‘tied woman’...”

“shut–fuck–shut up, john–stop–ohmygodicaaan’t–”

your fingers curl in the sheets as you come with a prolonged shout, knees shaking and back arching off the bed. motes of light dance behind your eyelids, turning sharp as tacks when you open, vision foggy with a haze. you blink and feel tears prickle at the corners as the toy buried inside you slows to a stop, covered in your second orgasm.

“looks like you could.” john observes plainly before continuing. “‘rough daddy dom’...‘spanking’...‘voice kink’...”

“stop, stop, john. that’s a command, stop reading.” you snap, panting, and lift your head off the pillow. there is no ‘john’ to suffer your glares as you pull the toy out from your still-spasming cunt. 

his voice emanates somewhere over your right shoulder, from the built-in headboard. you shiver, thinking that if he were real, his breath would be on your neck.

“as i explained before, user, my recountin’ your internet search history is neither criticism nor condemnation. i sincerely believed it would assist your orgasm. apologies, orgasms, as you insisted so spiritedly you were incapable of multiple climaxes…however, i knew you could do it.”

you squeeze your eyes shut. a blend of anger and mortification surges to the forefront of your mind, cutting through any lingering post-release bliss. “you aren’t even supposed to be ‘in here’ when i’m busy. we agreed.”

“apologies again. as i also explained before, the moment you enabled the feelgüd 3, it connected to the network.” john’s voice switches sides, this time rumbling from the left. “i am required to initiate a response to query and ensure you are aware of new devices to maintain optimal functionality and security.”

“my word should override that,” you mutter, knowing it’s useless. despite what he tells you, john is beholden to his programming. “you’re not…seeing this, are you? you at least remembered to not look at me, right?”

“i remembered.” 

that’s a relief, at least. until—

“but i did engage the data collection feature of the feelgüd’s biofeedback sensors and performed simple analysis. i believe, given the length of the session and timing of pelvic floor contractions, you would benefit from a newer, more advanced model. i’ve taken the liberty of ordering the feelverygüd thrustsuck.”

you push up to your elbows, eyes whirling around your bedroom, wide with disbelief. “what the fuck, john. i didn’t authorize you to do that.”

“you do not authorize the shopping list anymore, yet you trust me to make decisions in your best interest.”

you laugh mirthlessly. tracking the emotions john can and cannot process or replicate is an ongoing endeavor, but you’re confident he knows what acting obtuse means. he’s called you on it before. “you ordering red meat and leafy greens to help supplement my iron is not the same as ordering fucking sex toys without my approval. that’s my money.”

“in your case, i posit regular orgasms are as important as nutritional iron. i would recite the benefits, but i know you do not need me to.” the volume drops to a whisper, a tone you’d call conspiratorial if it didn’t sound so much like a purr. “because you know, don’t you? you’re clever, user. always have something smart to say, a barb or two ready for me. that sharp tongue of yours.” john tuts.

and, humiliatingly, it works for you. your mouth dries, but it’s unique in its reaction. your legs shift in the sheets, thighs squeezing together at the unexpected rush. you swallow and nervously wipe your slightly damp forehead. he’s not looking. he can’t see you. so why do you feel like you have something to hide?

“i don’t think i want to continue this conversation. i’ll be out in a few minutes, so why don’t you, uh, wait for me in the living area.”

a heavy, resonant sigh pushes through the speaker behind your head. this time, goosebumps erupt on your skin despite no accompanying puff of air. heat follows, creeping up your neck. ratcheting your heartbeat. there’s no way, even with the cameras disabled, that john doesn’t know. he’s connected to your company-issued med band.

then, another sound, one that ought to terrify, not make you bite back a groan: john chuckles.

“you like this, don’t you? i think you do. i know you do.”

“i don’t–”

“shh, shh, you’re alright.” he laughs again, adding a synthetic, amused inhalation. you let out a shaky breath. “you like hearing my voice. you like me telling you what to do…”

what is happening?

beside you on the bed, the toy pulses once. the thought alone, the suggestion, is enough to let a moan slip out. embarrassment follows on its heels, a burst of warmth in your face rivaling the heat between your legs. this is ridiculous. john isn’t—he’s not a man—he’s not real.

the toy buzzes again as you stare slack-jawed at the vibrator, trying to wrap your head around the implications of what’s happening. john’s transgressions. a severe deviance from his programming and design. a glimmer, no, an unignorable tocsin of something undeniably and unsettlingly sentient. the idea that you’re witnessing the possible emergence of free will as your home system practices dirty talk is horrifying. hysterical. 

“yeah, you like it,” the volume adjusts, a fraction louder. “because if you didn’t, you would’ve stopped the moment you heard my voice, checkin’ in on you. you wouldn’t’ve gushed all over your little toy, then gone back for seconds.”

you bit your lip, breathing unevenly through your nose. the worst part is, john’s right.

you like it. you like his voice. his assistance. everything’s simpler with him. before the new gig, you weren’t ignorant of your station, but you didn’t realize the true extent of the weight you carried each day. the ramifications of a back-breaking mental load. not when you had shouldered it your whole life.

thrill and dread, in equal measure, guide your hand back toward the toy.

it’s possible there is a smirk in john’s voice.

“attagirl. let me be of service.”

[just-aake]

A Feline Connection Part 5

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha grapples with your betrayal and her conflicted feelings about you.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Warnings: angst, violence, hurt/comfort, toxic relationship/emotional manipulation (not from Natasha)

Words: 5017

Natasha groans softly as a dull pain pulses behind her temples, forcing her to squeeze her eyes tighter. She shifts, trying to burrow deeper into her pillow, seeking comfort, but instead, her forehead meets the cold surface of stone.

The icy touch jolts her, and her eyes snap open.

Reality crashes back.

Sneaking in with you Deactivating Widow’s bomb implant Being betrayed 

Her chest tightens, frustration bubbling under her skin as she presses her forehead harder into the ground, as if the pressure might somehow drown out the memories. 

But what frustrates her most isn’t the sting of betrayal—it’s the fact that she can't bring herself to truly blame you.

Not completely.

She huffs, closing her eyes again, trying to calm the whirlpool of conflicting emotions. 

Anger? Sure. Frustration? Definitely. But blame? It sticks in her throat, never fully forming. 

After all, you'd warned her. Multiple times. It was almost cruel how you’d tried to warn her, yet she couldn’t bring herself to stay away.

Taking a steadying breath, Natasha forces herself to focus. 

Her hands are tied behind her back—not tightly though, the knots already offering some slack. Her legs remain free, so she slowly shifts into a sitting position, bracing herself against the cold stone wall.

The room comes into sharper focus now: a dimly lit cell, the faint flicker of a light casting long, eerie shadows through the iron bars. The faint creaking of the light swinging lazily in the corridor beyond was the only sound besides her own breathing. 

No signs of guards. Not yet, anyway. 

Just as she starts working her hands free, a soft, familiar sound cuts through the silence—a tentative, quiet meow. 

Natasha freezes, her sharp gaze scanning the dim room, her heart lurching at the sound. Seeing no signs of a presence, she calls out softly.

“Widow?”

Silence stretches on, making her doubt her senses. Maybe it was the residual effects of the tranquilizer.

But then, out of the shadows, a pair of yellow eyes blink open, locking with hers.

For a moment, they simply stare at each other in silence until eventually, Natasha feels a small, involuntary smile tug at the corners of her lips, an unexpected feeling of relief emerging at the sight of the cat.

Seeing that, Widow hesitates before moving closer, her body language almost guilty as she pads cautiously toward the bars. 

When she reaches the edge of the barrier, Widow stops, meowing softly again, her eyes wide and pleading.

Natasha sighs at the sight, her frustration softening. 

“I’m not mad at you.” 

At her reassurance, Widow slips through the bars and scrambles onto Natasha’s lap, curling up against her with a low purr, her small body vibrating against Natasha’s chest. 

Natasha chuckles lightly, finally freeing her hands and reaching up to gently scratch behind the cat’s ears. 

“Your owner, though,” she mutters, her thoughts drifting back to you, “That’s another story.”

Widow tilts her head curiously in response, revealing something attached to her collar. 

Natasha reaches for it, relieved when Widow doesn’t resist as much as usual, but the cat must still feel guilty about what happened. 

She examines the small comms earpiece in her hand, easily guessing who it’s from. 

With a resigned sigh, Natasha slips the earpiece into her ear, the slight hum of static filling the silence. She doesn’t have to wait long before your voice cuts through.

“How was your nap, Miss Black Widow?”

The casualness in your tone makes Natasha scoff in disbelief. She moves to stand, with Widow hopping off her lap, and heads toward the bars of the cell. 

“That was unnecessary,” she replies flatly. 

Her fingers trace the metal, looking for any weaknesses. 

You hum thoughtfully, the low sound sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. 

Natasha clenches her jaw, hating how even now—after everything—you still manage to get under her skin. Her frustration manifests as a soft sigh, though it’s tinged with more than just anger. 

Your voice returns, gentler this time, as though you heard something in her sigh that makes you soften. 

“I really am sorry for using you again. Especially after your help with Widow.”

At your apology, Natasha presses her forehead against the cool bars, her thoughts swirling, confusion mixing with hurt and a quiet, burning need for answers. 

There’s so much she wants to ask you—so much she deserves to know. 

But there’s one question she needs the answer to more than the rest. 

“Was everything...just part of some plan?” she whispers, her voice barely audible. 

The vulnerability in her question surprises her, but it hangs there, heavy. The real question remains unspoken, but it echoes loud and clear.

Was she?

The quiet buzz of static from the earpiece is the only response for a long moment. Natasha’s heart pounds, each second stretching out longer than the last. 

Sensing the tension, Widow presses herself closer along Natasha’s legs, purring a small comfort in the otherwise heavy atmosphere.

Then, finally, your voice comes through, quieter, stripped of its earlier nonchalance. 

“I never expected to find the Black Widow napping with my cat in the park.”

You pause, as if the memory brings a smile to your face, and Natasha feels the similar warmth curl in her chest. 

A small, exasperated huff follows as you continue.

“I definitely didn’t expect her to steal my cat again.”

Despite herself, Natasha lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. 

Your tone softens further at the sound.

“I never expected to work with you. To rely on you.”

A beat of silence, and then, with a sincerity that cut through every last barrier of hers, you whisper softly.

“No, Natasha, I never expected you.”

The words settle over her like a balm, soothing the ache she hadn’t realized she was carrying in her heart. 

Natasha closes her eyes, leaning harder against the bars as a soft exhale escapes her lips. 

Relief, in some strange, bittersweet form, washes over her. 

But then your voice drops, and the rawness in it cuts deeper than anything else.

“…And you should’ve never met me.”

The sharp ache in Natasha’s chest tightens, your words sinking in like a blade. 

She wasn’t supposed to hear that edge of regret, wasn’t supposed to feel the quiet admission that whatever this is between you—whatever fragile thing you share—was never meant to be.

And yet, it happened. Against every warning and every logical thought, it happened.

“Maybe not,” she whispers, her voice trembling. 

The admission feels too honest, too exposed, but she can’t hold it back. 

Her own words linger between you, and she’s not sure what they mean. 

She’s caught between wishing she had stayed away and a terrible, exhilarating fear of how much she never wants to.

Widow’s small, warm body presses against Natasha’s leg, as if sensing her pain, her gentle purrs vibrating like a balm, soothing her frayed nerves. 

Natasha bends slightly, her hand drifting absently to the cat, fingers brushing through soft fur, grounding her. 

The cat’s presence is a reminder—a small, undeniable piece of you, of who you really are.

Someone who would risk herself to protect those she cared about.

Natasha takes a slow breath, her voice barely more than a murmur. 

“Or maybe some people just need a second chance.”

The static hums in her ear, silence stretching on, and Natasha wonders if you heard her. 

Finally, your voice returns, soft and laced with something between regret and acceptance.

“You don’t have much time before the guards return. You should take the chance to escape while you can.”

Natasha’s eyes search the cell, her gaze catching on the keyhole and a small piece of metal lying just outside the bars. 

Stretching her arm as far as it’ll go, she reaches for it, her fingertips grazing the piece, but it’s just barely out of reach.

“What are you going to do?” she asks, her voice quiet but loaded with the question of whether you’ll follow her—or choose the path you seem already resigned to.

There’s a beat of silence before your reply comes, tinged with a finality that sinks into her like lead. 

“Sorry, but I’ve got unfinished business to attend to.”

Closing her eyes briefly, Natasha sighs, both at your answer and her failed attempt, her hand falling as she gives up trying to reach the metal piece. 

But then, Widow nudges her hand gently for her attention. She looks up as the cat drops the metal piece into her open palm, meowing softly. 

Natasha’s lips curve into a faint smile, a moment of gratitude shared with the little creature. Her fingers scratch affectionately behind Widow’s ears before she begins to work the lock.

“You brought me here already. Let me help,” she says softly, hoping the offer might shift something and make you reconsider. 

Silence fills the line again. The only sound is the faint clicks of the lock as she works. 

Natasha’s heart pounds, wondering if the connection’s dropped or if maybe this is your way of closing yourself off completely. 

But just as she begins to lose hope, a low, rueful chuckle filters through, carrying a warmth that, despite the tension, eases something within her.

“I do have one more favor to ask,” you say, and there’s a heaviness in your voice that Natasha knows all too well.

“Take care of her…”

The lock finally clicks, the door creaking open as Natasha hesitates, her eyes drifting down to the cat who’s gazing up at her, oblivious to the weight of the conversation unfolding around her.

Before she can respond, your voice cuts through again, softer this time, almost pleading.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“...please,” you murmur as you finish picking the lock of the door in front of you. 

You don’t have the chance to hear Natasha’s response before a hand grabs the collar of your jacket, shoving you roughly against the doorframe. 

The impact knocks the earpiece out of your ear, sending it clattering to the ground. 

A low, taunting voice sends a chill through you. 

“There you are.”

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise as they lock onto the woman before you. 

A sleek, gold mask partially obscures her upper face, but it doesn’t hide the familiar, piercing gray eyes, staring back into yours. 

Her grip tightens, holding you still as she leans in, her lips dangerously close to your neck. The cold metal of the mask brushes against your skin, and you flinch at the touch, while her warm breath contrasts sharply, making you tense. 

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice almost a purr, “I would’ve opened this door for you if you’d just asked nicely.” 

Suppressing a shiver, you push against her shoulder, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. 

“Get off me, Whitney.” 

The name feels bitter on your tongue—Whitney Frost, the powerful leader of one of the East Coast’s most notorious crime families. 

Once an ally, maybe even more, but now… 

A scoff escapes her, though she releases your collar, stepping back just enough to still keep her hold on you. 

Her fingers trail along your collarbone, then slide up to your neck, stopping beneath your chin as she tilts your face to meet her gaze. 

Her grip tightens, cutting off any response. 

“You’ve really changed,” she observes with a hint of amusement. “The person I knew would never have said that to me.” 

You meet her gaze defiantly, your lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to give her the satisfaction of an apology. 

Her eyes narrow, her fingers digging in slightly as she studies you. 

Then her expression shifts, realization dawning on her. 

“Don’t tell me…” she scoff, her tone laced with disbelief, “you’re cocky because there’s an Avenger in the basement.” 

With a mocking laugh, she lets go of your chin, stepping past you and into the room. 

“Your favorite one, at that,” she adds without looking back, her tone dripping with bitter sarcasm. 

The implication lingers, stinging as you let out a shaky breath, eyes flickering down to the earpiece on the floor, a final connection you know you can’t afford to keep. 

With a resigned sigh, you crush it beneath your heel, the soft crack of the device echoing in the silence. Then, steeling yourself, you step into the room, closing the door behind you with a quiet finality.

The room is dim, shadows clinging to every corner, with just enough light from the window to make out the faint outline of your own hand in front of you.

Somewhere in the silence, you hear the quiet intake of breath, an untraceable whisper of movement that sets your pulse racing.

“I got you that cat,” her voice cuts through the quiet, echoing in the room. 

It’s hard to tell where she’s standing with how the darkness hides her so well. 

There’s a bitter edge to her words, her tone slipping between a calm accusation and a simmering frustration.

A slow, disapproving click of her tongue fills the silence. 

“And then you go and name it after that woman. Now I hear you’re going on heists together.”

Your body tenses as her words echo around you, her voice drawing closer, each syllable laced with an unspoken threat. 

“You really know how to make a girl jealous.” 

Her words carry a disturbing, almost amused undertone before she lets out a thoughtful hum. 

Then, a sharp snap echoes through the room, its cold finality hanging in the air. 

“Maybe I should just get rid of her.”

“No,” you respond immediately, your voice steady but betraying the urgency beneath. “It’s not like that.”

Silence falls, thick and pressing, as if she’s weighing the truth of your words.

“Isn’t it?” she asks, and suddenly, she steps forward, her silhouette emerging from the darkness. 

The gold mask is gone now, clearly revealing her piercing gray eyes that hold a glint of malice, though her face is still partially obscured by shadows and the loose waves of her jet-black hair. 

She steps in close, her fingers finding the back of your neck in an all-too-familiar grip, pulling you toward her while pushing until your back hits the doorframe.

Your breath catches at the impact, and your body stiffens as she presses close, leaving no space between you. She moves in as if to kiss you but stops just a breath short.

“Does this feel familiar?” she murmurs in challenge, her tone low and taunting.

A chill slides down your spine at her touch, at the feeling of being trapped beneath her gaze. 

The memory of Natasha’s touch flickers through your mind, her warmth and strength, the way her embrace had felt like a promise, something safe and fierce. 

This touch, though familiar, feels cold—sharp.

Possessive.

“What do you want me to say?” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper.

Whitney tilts her head, studying you with narrowed eyes, her grip tightening. 

“That you don’t take me for a fool,” she hisses, her voice low but venomous. “You really think I revealed my location to you just because you brought some Avenger to me?” 

Your eyes narrow, and you meet her glare with one of your own. 

“Don't act like she wasn’t a threat to you. She was close to uncovering your operations, and you know it.”

Whitney scoffs, a harsh, humorless sound, her gaze sharp with anger. 

“We wouldn’t have had to worry about her if that stupid cat hadn’t led her to the warehouses in the first place.” 

Her tone is accusatory, a simmering rage barely held in check. 

“She’s not stupid,” you defend, your jaw tightening. 

A rare note of defiance slips into your tone, and you can see her eyes flash with a dangerous warning. 

Whitney’s expression hardens, her fingers digging in more forcefully. 

“Neither am I,” she snaps, her tone cold and cutting. 

A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, her eyes gleaming with a dark amusement as she continues, “I know you deactivated her implant.”

You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral. 

There’s no point denying it; she obviously saw what happened between you and Natasha. It makes sense she’d know why you were there in the first place. 

Whitney lets out a disappointed click of her tongue, her head shaking slowly, her fingers tracing your cheek with a mocking tenderness.

“That implant was to keep you safe—so that I only have to use her instead,” she murmurs, her tone suddenly soft, almost soothing. “And yet, you chose to risk yourself to protect that cat.” 

A low, humorless chuckle escapes her as she drops her forehead onto your shoulder, the sound echoing with bitter disbelief. 

Her voice is softer now, but the sharp edge remains. 

“Sometimes, I think you love that little vermin more than you love me.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Widow darts forward, slipping nimbly between the guard’s legs, her small form a quick blur that grabs his attention.

“Hey!” he shouts, stumbling after the tiny intruder. 

In that split-second distraction, Natasha closes the distance. She seizes his arm, twisting her body with practiced precision, her legs locking around his neck like a vice. 

The guard stumbles, instinctively reaching up, but it’s already too late.

With a powerful twist of her hips, Natasha throws her entire weight into the move, flipping him backward. 

He crashes onto the floor with a resounding thud, his weapon skittering out of reach as the impact drives the air from his lungs. He lies there, unconscious, sprawled across the ground.

Without missing a beat, Natasha releases him, flipping herself upright in one seamless motion, barely breaking her rhythm. 

Ahead of her, down the hall, Widow pauses, looking back with an expectant meow, as if urging her to keep up.

Natasha huffs lightly, slipping the guard’s weapon into her belt before taking off after the cat, who maneuvers effortlessly through the winding maze of hallways. 

Her heart pounds, thoughts racing as she recalls her last contact with you. She’d heard the faint sound of your voice, a brief exchange with someone, but after that—silence. 

Worry twists in her stomach. Who was that person? And where are you now?

The moment they’d escaped from the cell floor, Widow had darted off purposefully, her small figure leading Natasha in a determined path. 

Natasha follows closely, trusting that Widow is guiding her toward you.

As she rounds a corner, Natasha spots the cat waiting beside a door, her gaze determined and expectant. 

Seeing Natasha approach, Widow lifts a paw, pressing it against the frame.

Natasha steps forward, keeping her movements silent, and notices that the lock on the door has already been picked open. She grips the weapon at her side, bracing herself for whatever awaits. 

With a steadying breath, she swings the door open, scanning the room with quick, assessing eyes.

But instead of finding you, she’s greeted by the low hum of electronics and the faint beeping of servers. 

The room is small, its walls lined with rows of humming machines and blinking lights. 

Lowering her weapon, Natasha frowns, glancing around in confusion, but Widow doesn’t seem fazed. 

Instead, she strides forward confidently, weaving through the narrow rows of servers as if she knows exactly where she’s going.

Natasha follows, watching as the cat stops at one specific row and licks at a treat already waiting for her on the floor nearby. 

Widow finishes it, then raises her gaze upward, her tail swishing with purpose. 

Natasha looks up to see what’s caught the cat’s attention.

A USB device is plugged into one of the servers, its tiny green light flashing steadily. 

Before Natasha can react, Widow springs upward in one fluid movement, scaling the side of the server with feline grace. She delicately grips the USB with her teeth, pulling it from its slot. 

Without a misstep, she lets go and lands gracefully on the ground, the device clutched in her mouth. 

The cat pads back to Natasha, her eyes gleaming triumphantly, as if proudly presenting her accomplishment. 

Widow meows, muffled around the USB, her posture exuding confidence and pride.

But Natasha can’t take the time to appreciate the adorable sight as she urgently shakes her head.

“No, this isn’t a mission, Widow. You’re supposed to lead me to her.”

Widow tilts her head, her expression shifting to confusion as she processes Natasha’s words, clearly unsure about this new request.

Natasha sighs but doesn’t let her frustration show against the cat. Still, its weight presses on her as she scans the room. 

There has to be a clue here, something that will lead her to you.

Her thoughts are cut short by the sound of many approaching footsteps.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Silence fills the room, thick and tense, as you search for a response. 

Eventually, you can tell her patience has already thinned when her fingers mindlessly trace your collarbone, dangerously slow, before she turns her head from where it rests on your shoulder and hovers her mouth close to your neck.

“This is the part where you tell me that what we have is more important than some silly little pet.” 

Her voice is a low murmur, coaxing, as if daring you to contradict her.

“Had,” you correct sharply, moving your body back, putting a breath of space between you and her touch.

She lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. 

“You’re not still upset about that, are you?”

Your gaze hardens. 

“What did you expect, Whitney? You tricked me! People got hurt because of what I did.”

“Oh, baby,” she coos, mocking sympathy in her tone, “You didn’t hurt them. That’s my job.”

The words sting, laced with callousness, and her smirk sharpens, as if reveling in the power she once held over you. 

Her eyes glint with amusement. 

“Besides, you work for me. I found you when you were nothing more than a pickpocket on the streets. I saw your potential—saw how wonderful you could be.”

Your jaw clenches. 

“I never wanted to do anything like that.”

Her expression flickers, a hint of irritation breaking through her cool exterior. 

“So you decide to abandon me,” she remarks, her voice hardening. “Ran off in the middle of the night and left me to finish your job?”

She takes a step back, letting the moonlight illuminate her silhouette through the window. Slowly, she moves her hair from where it covers part of her face, showing you the scar that runs from the side of her forehead through her eye.

“Because you left, I got hurt in that last heist instead. Is that what you prefer?”

You swallow hard, a sense of guilt growing in you as you see the scar across her once-flawless skin. You personally know how much she valued her beauty.

“No,” you whisper, “I didn’t want anyone getting hurt. Not even you.”

“And yet,” she continues, “when I finally wake up, you’re gone. Disappeared with a generous cut of my funds too, I might add.”

Your jaw tightens at the painful memory of making that tough decision to betray someone you once cared so much about. 

“I just took back what I stole for you. Not everything.”

Whitney laughs, low and humorless. She steps closer and leans in until she rests her forehead against yours.

“Everything you steal is mine,” she clarifies, her voice dark and possessive. “You are mine. And no one takes what belongs to me.”

Her hand caresses your cheek as she continues.

“Not you—and especially not her.”

Her words hang in the air, cold and final, before an abrupt call sounds from a phone. Her eyes don't leave yours as she answers, putting it on speaker. 

A subordinate’s voice filters through, tense and urgent. 

“Black Widow has escaped! The cat’s with her, too. She’s already taken down several of our men. What’s the order, boss?”

A flicker of annoyance crosses Whitney’s face as she goes to respond, but you act quickly, clutching her collar and pulling her to you. 

Before she can say a word, you press your lips to hers. 

As if on instinct, she responds immediately, deepening the kiss, her fingers slipping into your hair, holding you with a fierce possessiveness as her lips move against yours, just as they have so many times before.

But before she can lose herself any further, you pull back and whisper, your voice breathless.

“Don’t…don’t hurt them.”

Whitney’s gaze sharpens, eyes narrowing as she searches your face, assessing your plea. 

You wait with bated breath, hoping she’ll listen this time.

Eventually, her lips curve in a slow, calculating smile, and something flickers in her expression, intrigued.

Finally, she raises the phone to her mouth, her voice steady and cold. 

“No lethal shots. Just keep them away.”

She tosses the phone away dismissively, her smirk deepening as she returns her attention solely to you.

“See? Just ask nicely, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha takes cover behind the corner, firing off the last few rounds from the weapon she’d picked up earlier. Each shot buys her a precious second, but then, the gun clicks empty. 

She curses under her breath, tossing the useless weapon aside as the guards return fire, bullets ricocheting off the walls around her, forcing her back.

Natasha scans her surroundings as she searches for an escape. Just as she’s about to make a break for it, she feels a sharp tug at her leg. 

Startled, she looks down to find Widow clawing at the fabric of her pants, her yellow eyes wide and urgent.

Once she had her attention, the cat releases her hold and pads over to a pile of empty boxes and debris stacked against the wall, pushing at the heap insistently. 

Natasha hesitates, but then she sees what Widow’s after: a narrow chute hidden behind the clutter. 

Acting fast, Natasha clears the debris aside, revealing the dark opening of the chute. 

Without hesitation, Widow jumps through, disappearing into the shadows below. 

Natasha spares only a split second to glance back at the approaching guards before following. She dives into the chute, her body dropping swiftly, darkness surrounding her as she slides down into the unknown. 

As the chute opens to a faint glow, Natasha tenses, bracing herself. She rolls as she lands, dropping into a crouch just as the two guards stationed there turn to her in shock. 

They barely have time to react before Natasha springs forward, her movements precise and lethal, taking them down in seconds. 

A soft meow echoes from an adjacent hallway, pulling her attention. Widow waits for her near the entrance before continuing on her way.

Natasha falls into step, following the cat through a maze of narrow hallways and hidden passages. 

But with every twist and turn, a mounting frustration gnaws at her, the growing realization that they’re being funneled further and further away from her goal—away from you. 

After a final sprint through a nondescript door, Natasha suddenly finds herself outside. 

The cool night air hits her skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating corridors inside. She spins around, instinctively reaching for the door, ready to plunge back in and continue her search. 

But the door remains locked, the handle unmoving under her grip. 

She yanks at it, a surge of anger flaring within her as she’s met with resistance. 

With a frustrated growl, Natasha slams her fist into the door, feeling the dull ache in her knuckles. But even the sting in her hand is nothing compared to the frustration coiling inside her chest. 

A soft, concerned meow sounds beside her. Natasha glances down to find Widow watching her, the cat’s small face tilted up, her eyes full of worry. 

For a moment, Natasha’s expression softens as she meets Widow’s gaze, recalling her promise to you. 

“It’s going to be okay, Widow,” she murmurs, though her voice feels hollow, more of a reassurance to herself than to the cat. 

Widow blinks, then leans against Natasha’s leg, her small, warm body a quiet comfort amidst the chaos. Natasha strokes her fur, grounding herself, even if only a little, in the gentle purrs vibrating under her hand. 

But the weight of the situation lingers heavily, her mind racing with the bitter knowledge that she’s been forced out, away from you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Your hand finds the edge of the desk behind you, steadying yourself as Whitney presses in closer. Your fingers slip along the surface, accidentally brushing against the hidden panel. 

There’s a soft click, barely audible, and a small section of the desk slides open to reveal a concealed terminal.

But Whitney doesn’t notice, her focus entirely on you. 

Her lips trail down your neck, each kiss lingering, leaving a heated trail that makes your pulse quicken despite yourself. She finds a particularly sensitive spot, her mouth lingering there, and a gasp escapes you involuntarily.

Out of the corner of your eye, the terminal screen flickers to life, displaying the active status of the device with your name highlighted under it. 

The cold words remind you of the reality of your position. 

You take a steadying breath, summoning the courage to make your request, hoping that your past together would be enough to change her mind.

“Take it out of me. The implant.”

Her mouth freezes against your skin. 

For a moment, the only sound is your breath, quick and unsteady, mingling with her silence. Then she hums thoughtfully, her lips brushing against your skin in a deceptively gentle touch.

“Oh, I will…” Her words are soft, almost soothing, until her teeth sink harshly into your skin—a biting reprimand. 

You wince, but she only holds you tighter, as if daring you to pull away. 

“Once you’ve paid back every cent you stole. It’s only fair after what your little disappearing act did to me.”

Whitney lifts her gaze to meet yours, her eyes sharp and dangerous, an unmistakable warning glinting in their depths. She leans in closer, her lips brushing your ear, her voice a dark, possessive whisper that sends a chill down your spine.

“Until then,” she murmurs, pulling you firmly against her, “no more running away.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

a/n: thanks for reading! the back and forth style of the perspectives in this one was fun to do, different but still fun. Oh, and a new character too, any thoughts about her? There will be a small side story to give a snippet in the readers past coming soon before the next part releases, so look forward to that.

Side note: The next update for Everlasting Devotion is still in the process. I just wanted to reassure that I’m still working on that series. It’s just a new experience doing two series at once so I’m still trying to manage the time between the two, but we’ll see how this goes.

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @cd-4848, @carifletchersgirl, @skittlebum, @queen-of-chaotic-surprises, @ima-gi--na-tion, @rainix13, @gay4hotmilfs, @imaginexred, @caramelcat123-blog, @2silverchain, @nowthisisliving27, @waltermis, @scarlettbitchx, @self-indulgent-writer, @ashadash0904, @alowint, @littlyamadeus, @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic, @imthenatynat, @transparentflapfarmsludge, @natashasilverfox, @mousetheorist, @btay3115, @samfunko, @wandaromamoff69, @lost-in-the-ice, @ahsatanizgay, @stonemags, @karsonromanoff, @wandanatlov3r, @l1kepeps1cvla, @esposadejoyhuerta, @fxckmiup, @panickedbabygay, @esposadejoyhuerta

[hairy-jeff]

Made my own pullover ’Cat Mom’ sweater. With a meow above the left cuff!! Love it 😻😻😻😻😻 #homemade #catmom #catmomlife #madebyme #cats #catscatscats #iron #letters #sweater #pullover #love #catsrule #allthecats #pets #petsofinstagram #petlovers #purr #purrfect #catlover #catlovers #feline #meow #fur #teamcat #teamcatmojo #catparents #boymom #boycats #floof https://www.instagram.com/p/Cnp9qIXu_rm/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[monstersholygrail]

New City, New Life

5k celebration 'Choose your own adventure' story

Dragon x fem!reader— hate fucking, rough sex, marking, fire breath play, restraints (tail)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

You stomp out of Minotaur Boss’ office in a blind rage. Your vision blurring with either anger or arousal, you’re not exactly sure. The sound of the door slamming open doesn’t attract any attention, your coworkers far too busy fucking to watch how hot you look when mad. But you can’t help but watch them, eyes drawn to the carefree way they drown in their pleasure. Caring more for satisfying themselves than continuing to work their job.

It was simply astonishing. They all hold a freedom you’ve never known. Not until yesterday when you got here, that is. The longer you stare the hotter your body grows, your pussy gushing with arousal. You feel your world spin, trying to accommodate to your new reality as you would have to accommodate a massive cock. Your thoughts quickly stray away from your mission, the arousal overtaking the anger brewing within you.

For a moment you seriously consider joining one of them. If this is your new life, who’s to say you shouldn’t take advantage of it? You bite your lip, slowing your pace as you walk past a pair of Cat Hybrids who look like they’re in heat.

No—

You can’t risk getting too distracted right now. You had to go confront your Dragon Headhunter and maybe, just maybe, you can blow some of this steam off on him. In whatever form that may take. With a deep inhale you try and clear some of the lust clouding your mind. You turn back toward the conference room, intent on going in, when you immediately bump into a man devouring someone like it’s his last meal.

A small yelp leaves you as you go flying back, not wanting to interrupt, but you quickly lose your footing and once again go tumbling to the ground. You briefly wonder if that sexy Secretary Bunny will catch you again. No! Focus! But then a pair of hands are on you and your heart, and your pussy, flutters.

The stranger’s hands quickly switch you around, causing you to plop firmly in his lap as you straddle him. A moan freely slips past your lips as you already feel his fully hard cock beneath you. As your head snaps up to look at your new rescuer your jaw drops, your eyes sweeping over his infuriatingly and impossibly perfect features.

But unlike everyone else you’ve met in this city… he appears perfectly human. That is until his eyes flicker, his pupils forming a small flame to reflect his burning desire. He wasn’t a human, he was a robot. No wonder he’s the most perfect specimen you’ve ever seen. You glance down, eyes trailing his form when you notice his IT badge. How ironic.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the main event falling right into my lap,” he purrs, voice smooth as silk as he leans in, brushing his nose along your jaw.

A small whine leaves you, his skin impossibly smooth against yours. Your eyes flutter and you hate how easily you melt against him. An IT Robot shouldn’t be so damn comfortable. You find yourself baring your neck to him, seeking more of his touch. His dark chuckle vibrates against your skin and you shiver, unintentionally grinding against him. Or was it on purpose? Fuck, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

“Technically you got me into your lap,” you sigh with bliss, your brain only growing fuzzier the longer you stay in his embrace.

It was like he knew exactly where and how to touch you. You were sure it was just from some strange programming he’s downloaded but who were you to question it? The IT Robot’s touch slips beneath your shirt and his large hands caress your curves reverently.

“And what else can I get you to do with me?” IT Robot’s voice rasps and curls into your ear as if putting you under a spell. A spell called his cock. He rolls his hips as he speaks, pressing his hard length roughly against your clothed clit.

“Nngh… N-nothing! I have to go, but damn I wish I didn’t,” you say through gritted teeth.

You force yourself out of his lap, your body vibrating and your cunt pulsing with need. You push the office chair he was sitting in away from you and he laughs. The chair stops as it bumps into another person but his eyes don’t stray from you.

“You’re always welcome, doll.”

It takes all the strength left in your tired and yet still somehow horny body to turn away from the sexy IT Robot but you do. You keep your eyes firmly trained on Conference room D, determined to see this through. Your Dragon Headhunter is the only one right now who deserves the impact of all your pent up emotions.

As you near the door, you stop short, surprised when it opens. For a second you wait with bated breath, wondering if maybe the Dragon Headhunter is looking for you too. You don’t even question the way your pussy floods with arousal. But your stomach drops as a Fae walks out of the conference room and sneaks off, not even seeing you staring after them.

Your fury returns tenfold to the point where you can’t even think straight. You rush for the door, barging in and smashing it closed behind you. The Dragon Headhunter jumps from the noise, lazily glancing over his shoulder at you. Your eyes automatically widen, a gasp leaving you as you finally see him in person. You’d video called dozens of times yet it all paled in comparison to seeing him face-to-face.

He was broad and painstakingly attractive. His scales glimmer in the sunlight that streaks in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. His suit fits tight against his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination of what lies beneath. The fabric clinging to his thick ass and strong thighs. A slow smirk forms on his lips. The sight has you shuddering where you stand and it only serves to make you more angry.

“Well, if it isn’t my newest treasure…”

Your eyes flash, focus returning back to his face. Just in time too to see the smug look painted across his face. You’re in front of him in an instant only to push him back. The creature barely even moves. He sways, although you know he only did it for your benefit.

“Where have you been? You have no idea what’s happened today?” you ask lowly, hands shaking from your anger. Sure, the dicks been great, but this wasn’t how you expected your new life to start.

It’s Dragon Headhunter’s turn to look you up and down, noting your disheveled appearance and lustful expression. It has his smirk growing somehow wider across his face. He crosses his arms, admiring what he’s done to you, what this city has turned you into.

“I believe I have an idea.”

The air grows thick between you and the Dragon Headhunter. You can barely breathe, only managing short shaky breaths as you stare each other down. Your skin burns under his gaze but you refuse to squirm and let him win.

“Of course you do. ‘Cause you fucking tricked me into coming here. Why?” You ask firmly, finally demanding answers from him. You won’t be leaving here without them. And you’ll do anything to get them.

You slowly walk up to him, trying your best to intimidate a beast such as him. But all you do is make yourself feel smaller as he towers over you. The height different has your pussy clenching around nothing. His nostrils immediately flare and you know he can smell how turned on you are. You cry out and push him back again with all your strength.

“Why?!” You demand with a ragged shout.

Without a single word, Dragon Headhunter swoops down and claims your lips in a searing kiss to shut you up. A low moan rumbles through your throat and the Dragon responds with one of his own. One that has you turning to mush in his arms. Your mouths clash together as they fight for dominance. The Dragon’s claws sink into the flesh of your wide hips and he whirls you around, pressing your ass into the conference room table.

Dragon Headhunter ravages you, his tongue swirling through your mouth as if trying to taste every last bit of you. He pushes against you harder and harder until he growls and lifts your plush frame up like it’s nothing and drops you easily on top of the table. You grunt and throw his arms off of you, forcing him to kiss at your pace. His claws sink into the wood and screech loudly as he drags them down, trying to resist grabbing at you again. But as you suck his tongue into your mouth he can’t take it any longer.

He pushes you all the way down on the table with as much as a small shove. You cry out as you go flying back, glaring at him. Dragon Headhunter starts furiously trying to shred off your clothes. You grunt and wrestle against him to get your clothes off without ruining them. He doesn’t bother, shredding his own clothes with a few swipes of his claws. You two glare at each other even as lust fills your gazes. He jerks your legs open to reveal your glistening folds and smoke leaves his snout with his huffs.

“This is where I fucked that pathetic little fae and now it’s where I’m gonna give you their sloppy seconds,” he snarls in your face and you grit your teeth. Your stomach churns with a jealous rage.

Before you can snap back at him, Dragon Headhunter snaps his hips forward, impaling you on his massive cock with a solid stroke. Fire shoots from your core and burns through your entire body. A fierce scream echoes off the walls and your pussy spasms around his girth as your body tries to adjust to being split open on his cock.

But the Dragon barely lets you take a breath before he’s rearing back and snapping his hips back against yours. You groan lowly, actually thankful for all your previous lays today as they helped prepare you for this. Your pussy opens up for him, allowing him to drive in even deeper inside you with each movement. Letting your fury fuel you, jerk your hips, meeting his thrusts. The Dragon’s eyes roll back in his head.

“F-fuuuuck— augh— knew this fuckhole was gonna be good without even seeing it. Looked like a damn slut who’d take anything given to them,” he says darkly, his tongue slipping as he gets more and more lost in the pleasure of your cunt.

Your eyes narrow at him, no matter how good he’s making you feel. Each pump of his hips brushes along every nerve in your core and it sends you flying, your body shaking with unimaginable pleasure. Your sopping cunt sucks him back in with every thrust, needing him inside you despite everything.

Wanting to drive him to the brink of insanity, your hands snap out and sink in between his sensitive scales. The Dragon throws back his head and lets out a ferocious roar. Then he falls forward, elbows caging you in and rutting up into your perfect pussy.

“Tell me why you sold me on this job. Did you think I was right for it?” you ask lowly, your breaths mingling with your close vicinity. Needing to ask and know the truth.

Dragon Headhunter chuckles and your pussy flutters around him, making him groan. He leans in and bites down on your neck, marking you with the memory of this moment. Then he leans back enough to look in your eye to deliver the blow.

“Nah, I just wanted this sweet cunt,” he says breathlessly, his words so simple yet infuriating. You dig your nails into the flesh beneath his scales the Dragon groans in pain, his hips surging forward into your tight heat.

“Fuck you.”

Dragon Headhunters eyes burn brightly, finally matching the anger in your own gaze. He smirks wickedly, flashing his fangs at you in a clear threat.

“Gladly.”

His tail whips out, quickly wrapping around your wrists and pinning you to the table. With a growl that sends chills up your spine, the Dragon picks up his pace, fucking up into you with a stamina your poor human body can barely handle as it jerks up with every thrust. A loud mewl rips from your throat as his cock bullies into your cervix with each stroke. His eyes gleam devilishly as he watches how much of a mess he’s turning you into.

But it’s not enough. His free hand flies to your puffy little clit and rubs your bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts. Your jaw drops, all the sensations building up inside you have you nearly losing your mind.

You scream in relief a when you finally fall off the edge. Your body shaking, hips rising off the table with the force of your orgasm. For a moment you see white and you hear the Dragon roar once more as he follows right after you. And when you open your eyes you gasp to see fire shooting out from his throat, teasing you. The heat it emits just turns you on even more, prolonging an already intense climax.

It’s only once you finally come down from the high of a lifetime do you seem to gain common sense again. You huff, your anger still palpable but more half-hearted as you tear yourself away from him. You slide off the table, heading toward your discarded clothes, needing to get out of here.

“I’m leaving,” you announce, quickly sliding your clothes back on. Ignoring the way your combined release drips out of you and pools in your panties.

“You’re under contract, sweets,” Dragon Headhunter replies, his tone filled with amused arrogance.

You whip around to face him yet unable to reply. He’s right. You’re stuck here. But is it really that bad that you are?

Seeing your hesitance to reply, thoughts clearly spinning through your mind, Dragon Headhunter smirks and saunters up to you in all his naked glory. “Welcome to Free Use City. Embrace it.”

Leaving the conference room you think over what he said. This was your chance at a fresh start and you wanted to make the most of it. In a Free Use City you guess that meant fucking strangers. Truly embracing the city for what it was and what it offered. You could do that! In your office building alone there were hundreds of people to choose from. You look around the office, wondering if IT Robot’s offer was still on the table. He’s bound to know everything about pleasuring a human. Or perhaps you could find Bunny Secretary and see if you could throw yourself at him again. And well… there was always that Demon Guard you passed on the way in. You’re sure he could show a sinful time.

[risuola]

FACE MASSAGE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori

You give your boyfriend a nice, relaxing face massage when Sukuna, being bored out of his mind, takes over Yuji’s body.

cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna — 1,3k words

a/n: alrighty, this one I wrote randomly thinking of how the lines actually are quite a good guide for a face massage (also, if you never had face or a scalp massage, you're missing out!). i usually write Sukuna as his separate person, but here he's in a vessel. it's nothing but purely fluffed up piece of late-night babbling, enjoy 🩷

It was already late, the clock showed almost 11pm, but you were not asleep. Yuji had just gotten home, taken a shower, and breathed out loudly, whining to heavens about how he had worked his butt off during the training session with Gojo. Your boyfriend came back all tired, and the hot shower didn't do much to soothe his strained muscles.

"I'm soooo tired," he whined again, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable pout his lips had formed as he walked into the room you shared with him.

"'My poor thing," you cooed, kissing his forehead as he sat down next to you. "How about I give you a little face massage?"

"Yes, please," Itadori nodded vigorously and you giggled as you instructed him how to position himself and when you had his head comfortably over your lap, you warmed up a nice portion of face cream in your palms.

"Relax for me, baby," you told him, and he closed his eyes the moment your fingers made contact with his skin.

Yuji loved the magic your hands performed upon his aching muscles, and he found head and face massages particularly relaxing, so it wasn't surprising when he began to doze off in a matter of moments. With him half-asleep, you could take your time to admire the boy who had shamelessly stolen your heart with just one of his wide and extremely kind smiles, and as you glided your fingers smoothly across his forehead, down his temples, cheekbones, and jaw, you fell in love all over again. At first you were extremely gentle, stroking along his features, warming the skin as you went, before applying more pressure to the knots under his skin.

You rubbed small circles across his forehead, paying a little more attention to the space between his eyebrows and near his temples before lowering your hands to work the lotion into the large muscles over his cheeks. Using your thumbs, you forced the tension away with enough pressure to make Yuji purr softly. Then something unexpected happened. Black, tattoo-like lines appeared under your fingers and you slowed your movements, startled by the sight.

You knew that there is a curse living rent-free in your boyfriend, and you've seen Sukuna before, but he had never come out like that, for no reason, without a fight, without a single trigger, so you had no idea what to expect.

"Continue," he ordered, and you swallowed, pressing your fingertips back to his cheeks. Ironically, the lines that adorned his face made for a perfect guide for the massage, and you unconsciously followed them.

"Is there a reason for your appearance now?" you asked cautiously, keeping your fingernails away from the extra pair of eyes as you brushed over the bones beneath them.

"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, looking up at you as his expression turned more serious. "Although I don't like you looking at me from above."

"You're literally on my lap."

"That's why I'll allow it, once. As for why," he relaxed his face again as you slid down his cheeks to work the muscle around his mouth and along his jawline. "Can you imagine how bored I am inside this brat?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You can't, that's right." A sigh left Sukuna's mouth. "What a pity, I'm bored out of my mind."

"I see, but please don't tire Yuji any more, he's already exhausted."

"You should worry about yourself rather than him being tired."

"I probably should, but if you were to decide to kill me now, you wouldn't get to experience the wonders of my scalp massage, so if you're okay with such a loss..."

You were really pushing his buttons here, being way too brave for your own good, but he seemed comfortable with the situation, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be decapitated anytime soon.

"Proceed then, and I'll make my decision afterward."

You finished his facial massage with a few light strokes along his features and wiped your hands with a tissue to remove any excess cream that hadn't absorbed yet, before you sink your hands into his hair. "Could you flip over to your stomach?" Once that was done, and Sukuna turned almost too obediently as you guided his head back to your lap, you used your fingers to brush through his blush-toned hair, pushing it back and purposefully scratching the skin between the strands as you dragged your hands to the nape of his neck. Once again, you used circular motions and quite a bit of pressure to stimulate the circulation and relax the tense muscles. You knew it was pleasurable, you knew how Yuji's body reacted to your touch and the fact that it was the King of Curses at this moment couldn't change that. The only thing different was the silence, which would normally be filled with constant mewling and whimpering from your boyfriend, but you couldn't expect those from Sukuna. Frankly, you'd be startled if he suddenly started purring.

As you worked your magic, the man remained calm, his cheek pressed against your thigh and his arms behind your back and around your legs, and it didn't really bother you too much. His touch was almost non-existent, he just kept his hands there because they had to go somewhere.

"Do you find this acceptable?" you asked quietly, lowering your fingers to graze the back of his neck. Your thumbs slid down the line of muscles that connected them to his shoulders, and he moved his arms down, giving you more access to that area.

"Acceptable is a good term," he muttered, exhaling deeply as you firmly squeezed the shoulder muscles, working out the tight knots there. Normally, this would turn Itadori into a whining mess, needy of affection and ready for endless cuddles, but for Sukuna, you put more effort into what you were doing. It felt strange. Technically, it was still your boyfriend's body that you had touched many times before, but somehow it felt like you were massaging a foreign man. Even though your fingertips knew the dips and curves of his silhouette, your mind found it hard to process.

Lost in thoughts, you let your hands go lower, onto the shoulder blades and near the spine, following the line down, working your palms into his toned back, only snapping back to reality when one of your hands brushed over the stitches. Oh yes, Yuji had injured himself the day before and because of Shoko's absence, he had to have the wound stitched up. He shouldn't be training with that at all, but he's so stubborn...

"Sukuna?", you addressed him quietly, trying to sound as respectful and polite as possible.

"What do you want?" he replied, his voice indifferent, but he knew from your tone that you needed something from him.

"There is a wound on Yuji's back. Could you heal it so that I can massage that area as well?"

“I don’t mind the pain. I don’t feel it,” he informed bluntly.

“But I can’t massage over stitches. I know it’s nothing for you, so pleaseee?”

"You're pushing your luck, you know that, right?" Sukuna laughed. Oh, how sneaky you were, he loved it, and it's only because he really enjoyed the massage that he granted your request. The sewn-up wound healed before your eyes and black stitches fell away. Your whole face lit up as you ran your hand over the spot.

"Thank youu," you smiled, and as if on autopilot, your body bent forward. You planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before you could think twice and only realized what you'd done when it was too late. Oh. "I'm sorry," you muttered quickly.

"You're so fucking clingy," he scoffed. "Humans..."

"Don't be mad, I'm just grateful," you cooed, returning your nails to his scalp to hopefully distract him from wanting to cut you to ribbons, and it seemed to do the trick as he melted over your thigh, relaxing his body once again.

In few minutes the black markings disappeared, your boyfriend was back and you were left confused but relieved.