#air quality in your home.
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#air duct cleaning#indoor air quality#indoor air pollution#air quality#air quality in your home.#comet air duct cleaning#Youtube
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Can anyone recommend a good brand of grippy sock/tight slipper? No; not for that reason. I’m kinda eh mentally but not necessarily in crisis (yet)…
The fake hardwood floors in this apartment are literal sensory hell to walk on. I can’t take my socks off and walk barefoot on them for two seconds without getting the worst fucking joint cramps in my hands and feet I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s like insta-gout, just add naked toes; but I don’t actually have gout (thank god)… it’s SOLELY from the texture of the floor. I’ve been wearing the same vampire bat socks for four days because I can’t bear to remove them unless my feet have been soaked in hot water before.
Also, the vampire bat socks for your amusement because the little guy is cute:
#sensory processing disorder#I’ve never used that label before but I’m just gonna call it for what it is. I rub wire sanding discs and steel scourers like worry stones#and run the back of my nails on the walls when I walk down hallways despite it being a very bad example for the children#I chew on my hands and scratch my face and neck constantly. I grind my nails into my fingertips.#I constantly touched little old ladies’ fancy clothes and jewelry and played with babies’ fingernails as a kid#I have to touch everything within arm’s reach at the store to test it for quality even if I don’t want it#I don’t like turning on air vents for the bathroom and kitchen or playing certain instruments because they’re too loud#I flick my nails and wring my hands and sniff random items and purposefully eat bland foods so I can feel the texture better#I’ve taken home fresh dinner rolls from the buffet and used them as slow-rising stress balls for two hours before eating them#and I thought walking up a shag carpet staircase in bare feet was a bad texture#These floors are downright SADISTIC#ugh ugh ugh when I get a real house there will only be ceramic tile on the floors#yes in the bedrooms as well. I don’t care. Freeze your feet off.
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Americans "having a single iota of sympathy for the literal thousands of Canadians who have had their homes and communities destroyed by fire instead of yelling at us for making their sky orange" Challenge (impossible)
#yeah i get it the air quality in New York sucks ass right now#did you know the air quality in Canada also sucks ass right now#and did you know that millions of people in Canada are affected#thousands have fled their homes#so many people have lost everything#towns and first Nations communities burned to the ground#but y'all don't fucking care#because the sky is orange in New York and you cannot fathom a degree of sympathy for anyone beyond your own borders#when you even acknowledge that we exist#anyways#Emily talks#rant#wild fires#America#us centric#America remembering other people exist challenge#Canada#us politics#Canadian politics
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kill me
#im replacing the crypt* bullshit in the#capitalism and you#tag with the weird home shit instagram recs me#matches don’t create trash bc they biodegrade hope that helps 💖#i am so tired of ppl trying to sell me shit to get my life together and/or save the planet/make my house nicer#this is so fucking stupid i love to burn fossil fuels through charging my electronic lighter in my house wired directly#to the municipal coal plant#this Will break and create so much e-waste#sorry can’t light my candles in a power outage my lighter isn’t charged#if this breaks it’s completely useless#if a match breaks you can usually still light shit with it#oh im very testy this morning#do electric lighters have a place? yeah in your stove not for daily candle usage#also can’t really get behind candles bc u are Literally burning money and Actively making the air quality in your house worse#but im very No Fun Allowed about this sort of thing
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Sorry to complain but. it's kind of discouraging to be going through the largest wildfires in the province's recorded history, while record-breaking fires are devastating other parts of the country, and go on social media to see everyone going "did you see The Orange? The Orange is so fucked up and dangerous and everyone needs to be talking about this!!"
#take this with a grain of salt bc i am just venting here#but.#i'm starting to see the calls of “we need to take this seriously! air quality is a big problem!!”#from people who aren't even effected and like. yeah. it is a big problem.#air quality is important!#however. having to evacuate with almost no notice and losing your home and having toxic chemicals leech into your soil.#are also uh. maybe notable?#(i'm find for the record. none of the current fires were too close to us)#ANYWAY i'm just being cranky#(but also please just do a token 'shoutout to everyone directly effected by the fires i'm thinking of you')#pie.dlg
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Unpopular opinion: anything that can be made with 3d printers could be made better and cheaper some other way. Most of the things created with home 3D printers are time-intensive, expensive pieces of plastic that don't do anything.
#Home 3d printers are really energy inefficient#They also lower the air quality in your home without proper ventilation#PLA filament in itself is supposedly biodegradable but there's so much plastic packaging that comes with everything you buy#Also the machines just break all the time for seemingly no reason#And on a personal note‚ I think printed layers look like shit. Resin or powder printers look marginally better.#Spray fill and sand your 3d printed pieces until you've got no fingerprints left if you want.#You can't do that with tiny or intricate pieces#I'm sick of pretending it's not a waste of time money and resources.
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#If you are looking for a new home in Gurgaon#Signature Global Sector 71 is a fantastic choice. This project offers everything you need for comfortable and modern living. Let's take a c#Therefore#Signature Global 71 Gurgaon is ideal for large families. they are bright and airy#thanks to large windows. That allowed quite a bit of natural light and air to enter. You will feel relaxed and comfortable in these well-de#entertain guests#or enjoy some fresh air. The bathrooms are also elegant and come with high-quality fixtures. Additionally#give your regimen a hint of elegance.#The spacious apartments and amenities make it a perfect place for everyone to live. Whether you need more room for your growing family or w#this project has got you covered. Located in Sector 71#Gurgaon. This project is surrounded by high-end commercial and residential buildings.#Likewise#This prime location means you are close to everything you need. Like shopping malls to schools and hospitals. Investing in a home at Signa#Modern Amenities provided by Signature Global 71 Gurgaon#Signature Global Sector 71 will have access to the latest modern amenities. This includes everything you need for a convenient and enjoyabl#and gardens#Playground for kids. You will find plenty of facilities to keep you active and entertained.#Conclusion#Signature Global Sector 71 Gurgaon is an excellent choice for anyone looking to buy a new home. With spacious and bright living rooms#large terraces#elegant bathrooms#and modern amenities. It provides all the necessary items for a comfortable way of life. The prime location and rising property prices make#consider Signature Global Sector 71 Gurgaon.#signature global#signature global gurgaon
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Modern AU where Shen Yuan accidentally sugar-daddies everyone.
So for the purposes of this, Shen Yuan's family is basically $10 Bananas levels of cluelessly rich. Shen Yuan has almost never had to look at the prices of anything he wants. He and his siblings all get an allowance from the family's main account, which increases when they reach adulthood, and in the interest of fairness his parents made it all the same size. So Shen Yuan gets the same amount of money for his daily living expenses as his older brothers with their penthouse apartments and vacation homes and private jets, at least from the family account (since he doesn't work, he doesn't actually make as much as them in total because they earn more on top of their allowances).
And the thing is, Shen Yuan genuinely just lives a lot more humbly. He likes people but what would he do with a vacation house? Anything really nice would probably require him to fly to get out there, and he gets sick as hell on planes. Living in the central city is also not great for him, because the air pollution is so bad. Having a whole house to himself would also be ridiculous. So he has a reasonable apartment, in a reasonable area, and he splurges every so often on purchases that make him happy and take-out food that he likes, and of course he pays a cleaning service to come in twice a week. Most people assume he's comfortably middle class and has some tech job he does from home, but he's been getting a lot more than he's been spending in his monthly allowances for years now, and the figures are big.
Enter into this environment author Airplane and his trash novels. Novels, multiple, because in this AU there's no PIDW, and instead after some alternate PIDW prototype got popular in the harem genre, Airplane decided to churn out a series of copy-paste shorter stories rather than recycling the same subplots in one massively long epic.
Shen Yuan of course discovers Airplane's writing and becomes as obsessed with it as ever, except this time he notices that if there are delays between new stories, they seem to clear up faster whenever he throws some cash at the problem. And also that the drops in Airplane's writing quality coincide with times when Shen Yuan was having health issues and not keeping up with his VIP purchases. So, he works out that Airplane's probably doing the writing for the money, and that when Peerless Cucumber isn't paying the most for it, Airplane starts listening to the other buffoons in the comment section more to try and entice them to pay his bills instead.
Peerless Cucumber leaves a comment on one of Airplane's latest stories that kicks off the two of them actually chatting, and Shen Yuan eventually gets to the point of offering to fund all Airplane's writing, in exchange for Airplane not doing his crap sellout stuff to appeal to other readers anymore. Airplane thinks he's joking or maybe mocking him. Shen Yuan asks how much it would cost. Airplane fires off a ridiculous number. Shen Yuan doesn't even blink and wires him the first payment. Then he gets annoyed because Airplane leaves him on read for a while, but that's because Airplane is staring at his account balance in shock.
Of course, it's Airplane who starts referring to Peerless Cucumber as his sugar daddy. Shen Yuan is just like "based on your sex scenes I don't think anyone would pay you for that" and Airplane's all "but you WOULD pay for my sex scenes ^_~" and Shen Yuan's like "technically I am actually paying you not to write that shit" and so on. Usual banter. The quality of Airplane's writing improves dramatically, a lot of his readership drops off but he does get new readers and gradually builds up an even bigger fanbase than before, and so on, it all goes pretty well. He eventually writes a few things that take off to the point of getting physical publications and international translations. Technically Airplane no longer needs Shen Yuan to pay all of his bills by that point but he's not going to tell Shen Yuan that! The contract's still good as long as he keeps writing!
Then one of Airplane's online acquaintances runs into some financial trouble and asks for help.
Liu Mingyan used to beta read for Airplane back when he wrote fanfiction (she was like thirteen, Airplane was unaware because internet and hey free beta), and it seems her family has hit a rough patch. She wants tips on how to go pro, but Airplane explains that it was extremely difficult and he mostly lucked out by finding a single wealthy backer. Mingyan wonders if the same guy would be interested in her writing, Airplane sadly thinks not because Mingyan exclusively writes kinky danmei erotica and Peerless Cucumber seems pretty firmly in the closet still and also generally prefers plotty and world-building heavy stuff.
But like, Airplane has definitely gotten a vibe off of Cucumber-bro, and Mingyan's gorgeous older brother does video streams of himself doing cool martial arts and swordsmanship stuff. So he asks her permission and when she gives it, he recommends Liu Qingge's videos to Shen Yuan, being sure to mention that the guy in question can't really afford to keep up with his hobbies and oh what a shame it would be if he had to stop making art like that.
Haha, Airplane, you're not subtle.
Even so, Shen Yuan watches the videos and immediately agrees that Liu Qingge is beauty in motion, and that it would be criminal to deprive the world of more videos of his sword. Swordsmanship! That is the, the art of, martial arts! Definitely. He clicks the donate button, reasoning out that he'll just send a donation about the size of his usual monthly payments to Airplane and call it his good deed for the day.
Liu Qingge is very confused by this new follower from nowhere who suddenly dumped a little over a month's rent into his account. One thing leads to another, with Mingyan and Airplane conspiring to try and get Shen Yuan as a permanent patron, and then Liu Qingge being let in on it. Except that Airplane keeps referring to Shen Yuan as his sugar daddy, and well... it's not like Liu Qingge doesn't ever get 'those' kinds of comments on his videos. At first he's embarrassed, then offended, then mortified that his own younger sister is apparently setting him up to make premium private videos for what he assumes is some old pervert who is going to want him to do untoward things.
However, their options are pretty bleak at the moment, and Liu Qingge worries that if he doesn't do this then Mingyan might. She even mentions something to the effect of having planned to offer herself, and only didn't because she wasn't this "sugar daddy" guy's type!
Teeth clenched, Liu Qingge asks Airplane stiltedly for advice on how to... appeal, to this wealthy benefactor.
In the end though it's not nearly as bad as Liu Qingge feared. He winds up doing more videos in costumes and cosplay, which ought to have been an untenable expense, but Peerless Cucumber always ends up covering the cost of whatever he invests in plus extra. Sometimes he sends Liu Qingge stuff with a request to wear it, but so far it's just been like, badass warrior-themed or historical costumes. Nothing overtly pervy. He does some LARPing, he makes enough to start doing horseback archery again, convinces some of his good-looking peers from various clubs to spar with him, and ultimately the most risque videos he ends up doing are the ones where he demonstrates how to put on certain kinds of gear. He still locks those ones behind paid subscribers only, mostly because he feels like he's doing something illicit now, even if he used to show more skin on his older videos any time he took his shirt off.
Peerless Cucumber doesn't leave creepy comments, either. In fact he seems genuinely nice and supportive, it's hard not to like him, and so even once his situation levels out Liu Qingge decides there's not really much need to stop making videos for him. (He maybe even gets a little giddy thrill over... well, sometimes he finds it all a bit... just when he thinks about Peerless Cucumber watching him demonstrate his physical prowess and finding that alone worth... ANYWAY--)
So that goes on for a while, before Yue Qi enters the scene.
Yue Qi is the childhood friend of one of Shen Yuan's older brothers (Shen bros!) and Shen Jiu owes him a big favor for something that he won't talk about. At least he won't talk to Shen Yuan about it. But Yue Qi is also not the type to ask for help, and Shen Jiu is very bad at offering it, so when Shen Jiu gets word that Yue Qi is having some difficulties making ends meet, he tells Shen Yuan to act as the middle man. Go offer Qi-ge money, he knows you're nice he'll just accept it, and then Shen Jiu will pay the actual bill.
Well it turns out that Yue Qi doesn't just accept it, of course he sees right through it, and gently but firmly tells Shen Yuan that he's not interested in burdening Shen Jiu further than he already has. Etc, etc, stoic stiff upper lips and no proper communication all around. Shen Yuan panics because it's not working and he's also genuinely worried about Yue Qi by now, so he tries to figure out how to make it compelling and basically blurts that, well, see, the thing is that sometimes he pays men to entertain him. You know. To like. Do things, for him. So. He could also pay Yue Qi? To do something for him?
Yue Qi gets the wrong idea entirely, and at first is like, oh, no, A'Yuan, you shouldn't be paying people for that! These things should just happen organically! But Shen Yuan is very adamant that he believes in compensating people for what they do for him, it's not like he can't afford to, and it gets awkward but Yue Qi is like well he does have health problems. It's perhaps difficult for him to meet people. So then he starts worrying about Shen Yuan and all these strange men he's apparently paying for "entertainment". Does his brother know about this?
No of course Shen Jiu doesn't know! He'd hate it, and Shen Yuan doesn't want to hear about how he's doing everything wrong with his life again!
Then Shen Yuan mentions that his prior house cleaning service up and quit on him (they didn't), and if Yue Qi would like to earn fair compensation he could just come over sometimes to help instead, and Shen Yuan would pay him just to tidy up and hang out for a few hours! Which Yue Qi thinks is a fantastic idea, actually, even if Shen Yuan is only doing this because of his brother, this will give Yue Qi a chance to keep an eye on him and his so-called entertainers. Even if he sort of... ends up also being one?
Shen Yuan keeps everything above board, though his apartment always seems perfectly clean and he overpays way too much (Shen Jiu is still footing this bill after all), and Yue Qi starts to think maybe he actually is being paid for intimacy. Of a sort that they're maybe still working up to? Shen Yuan usually has a very thin face after all. He's kind of got two minds about this prospect. On the one hand, he's got his situationship with Shen Jiu, so dating his brother would be absurd. But on the other hand, it's not actually dating, and he does like Shen Yuan, and maybe if they can be good company for each other then Yue Qi won't feel so depressed and Shen Yuan won't need to hire strange men so often.
Meanwhile it's come to Shen Yuan's attention, perhaps through an offhand comment he read online somewhere, that people who are struggling financially often also struggle to "treat themselves". Because even when they have enough money to be comfortable there's often the looming specter of deprivation, and etc, so he figures he should start buying some of his dependents more treats and things. Since they might not buy them for themselves? And also he's enjoying doing this but shhh no he isn't, it's a huge hassle, he's only doing it out of basic moral decency, etc.
So like, Airplane starts getting little things that he'd put on some public wish lists, clearly sent by Peerless Cucumber. And he tells Mingyan to make a list for Liu Qingge too, and sure enough, Liu Qingge (bewildered, slightly flustered) tries to figure out what he's supposed to do with an album from a band he likes and some high-end leather polish. Ultimately settles on playing the music and wearing his nicest leather in his next video. Yue Qi starts arriving at Shen Yuan's place to be plied with his favorite coffees and to have scented candles awkwardly foisted onto him (Shen Yuan does not know what Yue Qi likes in gifts) (he buys these presents himself they're not out of Shen Jiu's pocket).
So finally Shen Yuan's parents start to notice that he's been spending a lot more than usual, and start to worry that he's either been taken in by a scam artist or is secretly dating a gold digger or has developed a drug addiction or something. But asking things directly like normal people is basically illegal in the Shen family, so they decide to hire a private investigator.
Enter Luo Binghe, a young man of humble background who is struggling to make ends meet after the untimely death of his adoptive mother, and is using his P.I. job and his online cooking videos to help pay his way through school (scholarship student). Usually his cases are more like, cyberstalking someone to find out if they're cheating on their spouse, or helping someone planning a lawsuit accumulate evidence on their corrupt employer, or other things like that. When he gets the Shen Yuan case, the idea that the Shen family's son is paying for "company" is well within his list of probable answers.
Though this one is a little... peculiar?
Mostly because Binghe can't find evidence of Shen Yuan actually getting what he would, presumably, be paying for. At first Luo Binghe just goes through the online paper trails, using the info that the Shen parents give him to figure out that Shen Yuan is paying Airplane and Swordmaster Liu (*cough*) what seem to be exorbitant prices just for trashy fiction and cosplay videos. He assumes this is a cover, that someone's actually delivering drugs or going over for "private meetings" or at least actually sending dirty videos as well, but even when he pays for Liu Qingge's VIP access it's just tutorials and such. Neither of these guys are even on any of the sites that are more lenient towards hosting explicit content. Luo Binghe's aware that kinks aren't always obviously sexual, but people don't usually pay through the nose for the kind of content they can easily find for free all over the place, either.
He digs a little more but keeps coming up empty on evidence to clarify which of the many vices the Shen family's son is actually indulging in. Which is a problem because that's the information they're paying him to find out. Plus his curiosity kind of piques as he reads Shen Yuan's seemingly quite invested comments on Airplane's writing and Liu Qingge's videos, looking to see if there's any kind of clandestine code or pattern. But near as he can tell, whatever else Shen Yuan might be getting out of these arrangements, he does genuinely like the stories and videos too? Well. Sometimes. Sometimes he's actually scathingly vitriolic towards Airplane's writing.
Luo Binghe decides that surveilling Shen Yuan himself is probably the way to go. That gets more complicated in court cases, but since the Shen parents just wants to know what's going on and aren't planning on prosecuting their son for anything, it doesn't matter as much if Luo Binghe gets information in sneaky or underhanded ways.
So, Binghe uses the account he created to access Liu Qingge's videos to chat with Shen Yuan a few times, and then recommends his own cooking channel. Shen Yuan doesn't seem too interested in cooking, so Luo Binghe makes sure to include a video that has an image of himself in his recommendation, and then films a few new videos of himself cooking with his shirtsleeves rolled up to three quarters and a few more buttons than usual unbuttoned, adopting a more flirty persona than he typically does for his shows. He takes his cues from some of Liu Qingge's more popular videos for how to be enticing bait.
It takes a few videos, but eventually Shen Yuan comments. Luo Binghe latches onto the chance to start talking to him, playing up a persona of a vulnerable young man with little means who is trying hard to make it through school, etc, and sure enough Shen Yuan seems interested. Well, most predatory people like vulnerable targets, don't they?
However... Shen Yuan just sends him a chunk of money.
Luo Binghe is confused.
Isn't he supposed to ask for something or create some kind of expectation of repayment first? But, maybe this is his approach to handling new targets. Maybe he's just trying to lull Binghe into a false sense of complacency, before he starts indicating what he wants from all of this. Luo Binghe makes sure to move the money Shen Yuan sends him into a separate account, so that if the Shen parents get angry about it then he can return it as a gesture of good faith.
But Shen Yuan just keeps sending supportive comments and donations. Eventually he leaves a comment that alludes to how badly he'd like to taste Binghe's cooking, and Binghe is like finally, but when he implies that they could perhaps meet in person and Luo Binghe could thank him for his support by making him something, Shen Yuan backs off.
Things eventually progress to the point where Luo Binghe, who is a totally normal person treating this like a totally normal job still thank you very much, is basically camping out in the bushes in front of Shen Yuan's apartment building. At some point he conscripts the aid of his weird cousin (finding his birth family was how he got into this business initially), and then almost immediately regrets it because Shen Yuan helps get Zhuzhi Lang a job doing landscaping for his building.
Why would he want Zhuzhi Lang close but not Binghe? Binghe is much handsomer! He'd make an excellent target for seduction! >:(
Anyway eventually Yue Qi catches Luo Binghe lurking around like a creeper and is like, finally, I have caught one of these suspicious men, whilst Binghe is like oh so he does have a lover, well this guy sucks and is clearly not good enough for him, and they both try and chase one another off and Shen Yuan comes home to a heated passive-aggressive-politeness war being waged in front of his apartment. Eventually he realizes the misunderstanding and calls everyone together (zoom conference? in-person meet-up?) to clarify that he is not paying any of them for "special favors", that was just Airplane being deranged about his sense of humor, and then he has no idea what to do when the prevailing response seems to be disappointment.
#svsss#scum villain's self saving system#shen yuan#bingqiu#cumplane#liushen#do shen yuan and yue qingyuan have a ship name?#idk#scum villain#shen yuan: fandom bicycle#lbh eventually comes clean about being hired by sy's parents#sy doesn't blame him he just sighs about his unhinged family
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I fucking hate him
A/n: One of the dialogues is lightly taken from "God of Ruin" by Rina Kentaken (plz check it out) Enjoy!!
Word count: 3.5k
Synopsis: You detest Yuji's uncle, Sukuna. His demeanor is rude and abrasive, and he is undoubtedly a sadist. You don't even try to hide your disdain, but the more you try to distance yourself from him, the stronger his opposition grows. Each attempt to push him away only seems to draw him in closer, closer, ever so close.
"You're fucking insufferable," you spat, your eyes narrowing with hatred. "You're pretentious," Sukuna shot back, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth." No, you're a narcissist," you hiss" Yeah, but I turn you on," he purrs
Warning: Hate sex, rough sex, biting, fingering, edging, cowgirl, size kink, breeding, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, breeding
You remember the day you met Sukuna for the first time like it was yesterday.
It was during the somber occasion of Wasuke Itadori's funeral—Yuji's beloved grandfather. The day was draped in a heavy sorrow; after the ceremony and the lowering of the casket, you followed the Itadori family back to their home. Being practically family yourself, and living just next door, it felt natural to join them and if not grieve, support the grieving family alongside them. While everyone gathered in the garden, sharing hushed memories and quiet support, you slipped inside the house to charge your phone.
As you stepped into the room, the air felt suddenly charged, like the prelude to a storm. There in the living room, was a man, a large man, lounging on one of the sofas dressed in a black suit and tie. The first thing you notice is his striking pink hair contrasting sharply with the dark, intricate tattoos that crawl up his neck and frame his face. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, fix on you the moment you enter, and his smirk is like a crack in a mask of indifference.
"You must be the famous dear friend of the family, Y/n right?" he drawls, his voice as smooth as silk and just as dangerous. "Heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise." His voice drips with sarcasm making you thickly gulp.
You hesitate by the doorway, your initial smile freezing on your lips. This was the Sukuna Ryomen? The man you'd heard only in hushed conversations between Jin and Choso, the man Yuji calls his uncle? You try to muster your composure, crossing the room to stand at a respectable distance.
"I wish I could say the same," you reply, aiming for polite but firm. Your voice wavers just slightly.
Sukuna chuckles, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. "Oh, come now. No need for such defenses. I'm not the monster they painted in their tales. Or perhaps I am, and that's what intrigues you? What do you think so far" he bends forward. "Am I intriguing?"
You bristle at his words, the arrogance dripping from each syllable like poison. "I-I dont know about that." You curse yourself at the way your voice comes out as a stutter. "I'm here out of respect for your family."
"Respect," he repeats, tasting the word as if it's something exotic. "Funny, I never put much stock in that. The old man sure tried to teach me, shame he is gone. But perhaps you'll teach me its value?"
What the hell does he mean by that?
He stands suddenly, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps. You can’t help but step back, your back hitting the wall. His presence is overwhelming, suffocating.
"Why so tense?" Sukuna teases, leaning close, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "I'm just trying to get to know you better. After all, anyone who loves my family must have some redeeming qualities, hidden though they may be. Although," he tilts his head, as if analyzing you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they just kept you around cause you're a pretty thing to look at."
You feel a flush of anger and embarrassment heating your cheeks. "I think you've gotten to know enough for one day," you snap, ducking under his arm and striding toward the door. His laughter follows you, low and mocking.
"Oh, don't be like that!" he calls out. "We're just getting started!"
It only took a minute. One minute for you to decide that you hated Sukuna with a fucking passion.
Unfortunately, the fact that Sukuna had just gotten out of jail, did nothing to hamper your hatred. It seemed like ever since he got out, he was not only determined to stick to the family, but to you, like glue.
The Friday night dinners with the Itadori family, once cherished and loved, had practically turned into a battleground. What used to be a warm gathering was now filled with endless teasing and arrogant attempts at flirting. You were even hesitant to stay over now, as you were never to sure when you’d turn a corner and there Sukuna would be with some sleazy remark about your pajamas.
You tried talking to the Itadori family about it, tried complaining to Jin and raise your concerns. And as receptive and understanding as they were, you knew that for them, blood was thicker than anything, and in some part, you knew that applied to you too.
Still, you persisted, even now as you sat at another Friday dinner you were determined to just enjoy yourself with the family you loved so much.
Key word, tried.
"Well, Jin, I must say, this food is... quaint.” He says through a chuckle and you have to bite the inside of your cheek from throwing a fork at him right there and then. “Did you burn it on purpose, or was that just a happy accident?"
"Dude," You breathe a sigh of relief when Choso speaks up, his voice calm but firm. "Can you go one day without being a jerk?" His eyes are fixed on Sukuna, echoing the frustration you both share about his behavior. This solidarity is one of the reasons why you feel closest to Choso in the family. His understanding and shared grievances with the insufferable man were one of the reasons why you two were best friends.
"Please, I bet this food beats anything you had in prison." You whisper under your breath, but audibly enough that others catch it when you hear Choso breathe through his nose in a laugh-like snort.
Sukuna sets down his silverware and leans forward with a grin, his eyebrows raised in amusement as he gazes across the table at you. "Oh, someone's got a sharp tongue," he remarks. "Careful, angel, you might cut yourself."
You roll your eyes and sharply cross your arms. "Funny, coming from someone who probably had to beg for scraps behind bars. Do you even know what real food tastes like?"
You don’t miss the way Yuji chokes on his pasta, stifling back laughter making you smile.
Sukuna's lips curve into a sly smirk as he locks eyes with you. "Oh trust me, I've tasted a lot of things. But I guess you wouldn't understand, being so... sheltered."
Unfazed, you shoot back with a dismissive wave of your hand, "Sheltered? Please. At least I don’t need to rely on prison slop to remind me of home."
This time, Sukuna's response is a silent, piercing stare that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Even though you were wearing a sweater and shorts, his gaze made you feel like you were naked.
From the corner, Jin clears his throat, chuckling nervously. "Um, maybe we should all just calm down a bit—"
You cut him off, your voice firm as you defend the meal laid out before you. “No way, not when he disrespects your food, which is great, may I add.”
"Oh, I love it when you get all fired up." Sukuna's eyes glint with mischief as he watches your rising frustration. "It's adorable."
Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a scrape. "Excuse me, I think I'm full," you declare crisply, gathering your dishes with a clatter and storming off to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. Without a backward glance, you stride toward the living room, your footsteps echoing your irritation.
"Come on, why do you always gotta be such an ass, Uncle?" Yuji mumbles, shooting a glare at Sukuna who only responds with a shrug.
As you sank into the couch cushions, you let out a deep sigh of relief, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of your favorite spot. You turned on the TV, dazedly watching whatever was on, trying to distract yourself from the day's tensions. Of course, thoughts of Sukuna kept creeping into your mind. What was his problem with you? Did the man get dropped on the head as a baby? How and the hell were he and Jin brothers?? Surely he was the result of some fucked up science experiment.
Engulfed in your thoughts, the passage of time slipped unnoticed until a shift in the couch's cushion snapped you back to reality. You turned, and -
Oh what the fuck.
Sukuna settled next to you, leaning on the armrest of the other side of the couch, a tattooed hand settled on his thigh, He had changed into a white tank top and sweatpants, and you feel your heart jump when your eyes unconsciously travel to between his leg where a slight budge pressed against the fabric. Shit. The tips of your ears turned red and you bit the inside of your cheek. That's another thing you loathed about Sukuna; how the scent of his old spice shampoo made you dizzy, how the way he towered over you made your breathing stop, how despite how fucking insufferable he was, he was so so so attractive.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you choked out, your tone edged with disbelief and irritation.
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What does it look like? Watching TV," he replied coolly, his eyes briefly scanning the screen before settling back on you. "Everyone's gone to sleep, you know."
"No, what are you doing sitting next to me?" you hissed, the proximity suddenly feeling far too close despite the physical distance. Your eyes narrowed, locking onto his vermillion eyes.
"Why you afraid I'll bite?" He says, gnashing his teeth together in a teasing display before moving closer to you. "Don't worry, I only bite when I'm asked."
"S-stop talking to me like that," you say, trying to shuffle back, but find yourself already trapped against the armrest.
"Like what?" Sukuna's voice is teasing, almost playful.
"Like I'm your toy."
He tilts his head slightly and leans forward, a smirk playing at his lips. "More like my doll."
"More like your grim reaper. I'll slice your throat if you touch me," you retort sharply, the tension between you crackling. You watch the way his eyes rake over you like a porn magazine, making you cross your arms as if to shield yourself.
He laughs, a sound rich with amusement. "You're such a menace. I want to gobble you up."
As he inches closer, the scent of his shampoo fills the air—a fragrance so intoxicating you want to bury your nose in it, yet you resist. "I'll give you indigestion, asshole," you snap, trying to maintain your composure.
"Worth it, muse," he counters smoothly, his eyes locking onto yours.
"Sure you're going to be thinking about that when I punch you in the face?"
"Oh, and make me bleed? Blood?" He licks his lips. "Yum." He feigns shock, leaning even closer. "You just keep ticking all my boxes today. Did you do your research on me?"
"Not even if you were the last man alive," you choke out, his proximity overwhelming, his face just inches from yours now. A slight move, and your noses would brush against each other.
"Last man to everyone else? No. To you? Highly likely." His whisper is a taunt, his breath a warm tease against your skin.
That's it.
As you attempt to rise from the couch, Sukuna's large hand swiftly lands on your thigh, pressing just firmly enough to guide you back down onto the cushion. You react instinctively, trying to swat his hand away, but he's quicker; he catches both of your wrists in his grasp, holding them gently yet with an unyielding firmness.
"What the hell are you doing?" you demand, your voice sharp with alarm and a flare of anger, your eyes locked intensely on his, searching for an explanation in his steady gaze.
"Jesus christ Y/n" Sukuna groans, rolling his eyes, "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?"
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”
“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” He chuckles.
Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, and get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so.
“I-fuck you” The words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.
“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and stern. You stay silent as you watch him examine your face. He leans in, close enough to kiss you, raises his right hand and runs his finger tips down your face.
"Will you bite my tongue if I kiss you?"
"Maybe"
Sukuna's mouth crashes onto yours, hard, angry, and demanding. He doesn't even give you a chance to resist, not even a breath. His lips are fierce against yours, stealing every breath you try to take. Your hands instinctively move to push him away, but instead, you find yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.
You meet his aggression with equal force, your lips moving furiously against his. His hands cup your face roughly, holding you in place as his tongue demands entry. You respond with a whine, opening up to him, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.
Every kiss is a challenge, every touch a dare. You bite his lower lip, drawing a groan from him that vibrates through you. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, hot, and angry.
Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging sharply as if to remind him you won't be dominated easily. He retaliates by pressing you harder against the cushions, so you have no choice but to melt into him.
In one swift motion, Sukuna pulls back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing muscles lined with black tattoos beneath. Before you can even take a breath, he’s back, his mouth claiming yours with renewed fervor. His hands move to your shirt, fingers pulling at the fabric of your sweater. You break the kiss for a mere second as he tugs your shirt off, then he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that makes your head spin.
His hands roam over your newly exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breath hitches as his fingers find the waistband of your pants. He undoes them with a practiced ease, pushing them down and leaving you in just underwear and bra, feeling vulnerable and exposed.
"W-what do you think you're doing?" you stutter, trying to maintain some semblance of control.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replies, his voice low and filled with a wicked amusement.
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm gonna fuck you." His hands slide over your hips, pulling your pants down completely, and you shiver at the sensation of his touch.
You whine when he places his knee between your legs which pushes against your clothed crotch. You involuntarily buck up your hips to try and gain more friction, making Sukuna chuckle; his shit eating grin widening.
“Needy, arent you?”
Your instinct is to tell him to fuck off, but he is already hooking a finger under your pastel pink panties; pulling the material down to reveal your cunt. You mentally curse yourself at the fact that you're already wet, a fact that will sure to swell Sukuna's ego.
Your hands fly down to hide yourself but he swats them away, giving you a glare before sliding a finger up and down your wet slit; collecting the juices before pushing a digit into your tight hole.
"S-shit." your groan, and the moment you clench around him, a sickening grin spreads across his tattooed face.
"Always knew you where gonna feel great around me."
The first curl of his fingers knocks the wind out of you, as it hits the sweet spot inside of you that you could only dream to reach on your own.
“Hah~ I cant-” You whimper, stomach clenching and legs trembling from the pleasure. You want to say you hate this, tell him to get off of you but you can't, you can't even think straight. You even push your hips out, angling them so his digits reach deeper into that sweet spot that sends tendrils of electricity through your body. But before you can fully bask in the pleasure, before you can taste your orgasm on your tongue, he pulls his fingers out.
"You think I'm gonna let you cum so early? After all the shit you have pulled?" His hand flies to your throat wrapping around it with a force that belies the strength behind it. Your breath hitches, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins. His touch is firm, and commanding, but there’s an undeniable pleasure in the way his fingers tighten slightly, reminding you of the power he holds.
"Nah no way." Sukuna chuckles "Your just gonna have to suck it up."
You try to speak, but his grip tightens just enough to cut off your words, leaving you gasping. The pressure on your throat is intoxicating, a strange pleasure mingling with the discomfort. You can feel your pulse throbbing under his hand. You are so dazed that you don’t even notice he has pulled out his dick until you feel something big pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so.
You’re about to open your mouth to say something, what, you do not know, but all of a sudden Sukuna pushes his dick into you until his hips are flushed against yours. It feels like you're being split in two, and the way his tip smushes against your cervix makes you unable to find your breath. The unfamiliar feeling has you squirming and clenching around his cock; body desperately trying to push out the foreign intrusion.
“Shit you gotta loosen up doll, cant fuck you like this.” There were veins popping on his temple as he started to rub tight circles on your clit. Bolts of pleasure shoot up your body, and you desperately try to relax your body.
“Atta girl” He coos, withdrawing his hips before slamming into your.
The first thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. The collision with your gspot has you arching your back of the couch; eyes screwed shut and letting out a loud moan. He's girth spread you so well, so much, and the friction was so delicious, tears blotted your eyesight. Your skin is buzzing, and your entire lower half is shaking from the pleasure. Sukuna's pace is brutal, unforgiving, and he has to grab the arm rest above you with one arm to help his brutal and unforgiving pace into you.
Your mind grows hazy, lost in the sensation of how good he was fucking you, but then, without explanation, a spark of defiance ignites within you. Suddenly, you find the strength to flip him over, his dick not leaving the warmth of your cunt once and so you were effectively laying on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. With your chest flushed against his, and your ass perked up in the air, you begin to fuck yourself on his dick, raising your hips up and down his length as if he was a dildo.
"Oh thats it." Sukuna is not a whining man but here he is, his voice cracking from the feeling and sight of you riding him. "Fuck yourself on me shit shit shit."
You are practically drooling on his chest, your eyes rolling back from how good he felt against your G spot.
You let a whine when you feel yourself start to get tired so Sukuna grabs your hips and starts fucking you on his length.
Fap.Fap.Fap
"Gonna cum in you baby ok?" He murmurs into your ear and you dazedly nod.
Suddenly you feel your stomach dip and your mind go blank. Your mind feels as though it’s been dipped in pure euphoria, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind, replaced by an overwhelming wave of bliss that drowns out everything else. Your body responds in kind, muscles tensing and releasing in perfect harmony with the pleasure coursing through you. It’s as if every cell is vibrating with delight, your skin tingling with a heightened sensitivity that makes even the slightest touch feel like a divine caress. The heat of the sensation is intoxicating, making your limbs feel weightless as if you’re floating on a cloud of pure, unadulterated joy.
Sukuna is quick to follow, shooting ropes of thick cum that glide down his shaft onto his balls.
"See? We are practically made for each other."
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader smut#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader
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https://www.cometairductcleaning.com/
#air duct cleaning#air quality#air quality in your home.#air purifier#indoor air quality#indoor air pollution
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I absolutely adore the fic you just put out with Rafe! Hit me deep as someone that has been cheated on. You have a talent! <3 Rafe request idea! It just hit me, but I bought a sweater today from the Mens section at a store (better quality). Maybe you could do Reader and Rafe dating. He is falling hard and is super infatuated with her, one day she forgets that certain sweater at his place (which clearly on the label is for men from a mens store) and he is absolutely heartbroken thinking that she is cheating on him. Maybe he snaps, but more so in a super heartbroken, teary eyed and soul crushing way, lots of angst since you are so good at it!!!!
SWEATER WEATHER! ⸻ rafe cameron
notes: tysm for the request!! i loved writing this. may have gone overboard and made it a bit too dramatic but we love us some angst in this household !
content: fem!reader x bf!rafe, angst, rafe with trauma, established relationship, accusations of cheating, comfort
You loved oversized sweaters. Feeling like a cozy hug you could wear. So when you wandered into the mens section one afternoon and spotted the perfect oversized sweater—super soft, way too big, and in a deep gray color—you couldn't resist. It was perfect for cool evenings with Rafe, wrapped up on his couch while you two watched a movie or just talked about anything.
You bought it on impulse, smiling to yourself as you imagined Rafe teasing you about how it was big enough to fit him. You wore it the next time you visited him, but totally forgetting to mention it as you were too caught up with other things.
Rafe was everything you wanted—strong, confident, but sweet in a way you hadn't expected when you first met him. He made you laugh with his rough exterior and soft heart. He made you feel safe, loved.
While Rafe, for his part, was falling deeper and deeper in love with you every day. He'd catch glimpses of you in moments you didn't even realize he was watching—laughing softly to yourself at a text, tucking your hair behind your ear, or wrapping yourself in one of his sweaters. You were everything good in his world, and he'd do anything to keep you close.
So that evening, like so many others, you two stayed up late, talking until you finally kissed him goodnight and headed home, too tired to remember to grab the sweater you'd draped over his chair.
Rafe found it the next morning, and at first, he smiled. It still smelled like you—vanilla and something sweet, something comforting.
Then he saw the label.
Men's store. Size large.
The words hit him like a slap to the face. He knew you loved oversized sweaters, but this... this wasn't just big. It was from a men's section, clearly not something meant for you, at least not at first. His heart started to pound, thoughts spinning out of control. Who had you gotten this from? Who were you spending time with when he wasn't around?
He tried to push the thoughts away, but they clung to him. He could see it in his mind—you smiling at someone else, laughing, falling into someone else's arms, and it tore him apart. The relationship you guys had built, now felt like a lie, like it was all an illusion.
When you came over the next day, something was off. The moment you stepped through the door, you could feel the tension in the air. Rafe was a mess of nerves and heartbreak. He tried to keep it together, but the moment he saw you, something inside him broke. The sweater was still in his hand, crumpled and worn, and without thinking, he tossed it towards you.
"Who is he?" he choked out, his voice raw, filled with anger he could no longer control.
You stared at him, confusion in your eyes. "What? Rafe, what are you talking about?"
"This. It's not yours. It's from a men's store. You left it here... you're seeing someone else, aren't you? Someone gave you this."
For a moment, you couldn't speak. You could only stare at him, confusion turning into realization. He thought you were cheating on him. Your heart sank, seeing how much pain he was in, how deeply he was hurt by something that wasn't even real.
"Rafe," you whispered, reaching out to him, but he pulled back, his face crumbling with heartbreak.
"Don't lie to me, y/n," he said, his voice breaking. "I can't take it if you lie to me."
Tears brimmed in his eyes, and you felt your own chest tighten at the sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so broken by his own fears. You hadn't realized how much you meant to him until now, seeing him overreact like this over a sweater.
"Rafe, it's my sweater," you said gently, voice steady despite the ache in your own heart. "I bought it from the men's section. I liked how big it was, that's all. No one gave it to me. I promise. I would never do that to you."
But Rafe couldn't bring himself to believe you. Not yet. His mind was trapped in the fear of losing you, of being second in your heart to someone else. Like it was with his dad and Sarah. The tears fell then, and he couldn't stop them.
Without hesitation, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him despite his resistance. He was stiff at first, but you didn't let go. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, voice soft but firm as you rested your head against his chest. "It's just a sweater, Rafe. You're the only one I want."
He stood there, frozen in your embrace, and slowly the truth began to sink in. You weren't lying. The sweater wasn't a sign of betrayal, just a silly, oversized piece of clothing you liked. And he had let his fears nearly destroy what you two had.
Slowly, his body began to relax, his arms came up to wrap around you, and you could feel the weight of his emotions in the way he held you, like he was afraid you might slip away.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with regret, his face buried in your hair. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes soft and full of understanding. "It's okay," you said quietly, brushing a tear from his cheek. "We're okay, Rafe."
He nodded, his eyes searching yours for reassurance, for any sign that what you two had wasn't slipping through his fingers.
"We're okay," you repeated, holding him close, letting him feel your warmth, your presence.
And for the first time since he'd found that sweater, Rafe allowed himself to believe you. He needed to trust you, to get over the fear of being abandoned. And deep down he knew that you could be the one to take his pain away.
#writers on tumblr#drabble#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe obx 4#request#requested
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Ghost Eater
Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.
-----
You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.
It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.
Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.
One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.
There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.
The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel. You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.
“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”
If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.
“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”
Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.
“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”
“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”
Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”
“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”
“Katie, be polite—”
“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”
“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”
“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”
“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”
“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.
“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”
“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”
“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”
Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”
“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”
“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”
“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”
If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.
“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”
“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.
“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”
Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”
“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.
“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”
Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.
----.
“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”
“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”
“No?”
You try to make your voice light. “I see.”
Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”
“You tipped five dollars.”
Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”
Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”
“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”
“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”
“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”
Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”
Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”
“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”
“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”
“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”
“If the court hadn’t mandated—”
“You make twice as much as me—"
“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”
Her parents speak at the same time.
“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"
“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”
“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”
Sarah bristles. “Katie.”
“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”
“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”
“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”
“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.
“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.
“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”
“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”
“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.
“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”
You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.
“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.
“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.
“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”
“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”
“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”
“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”
“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”
Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”
The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.
The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home. The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…
Well.
It’s time to talk to Terry.
Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.
For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.
Something like…pepper?
Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.
“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.
“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.
“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.
“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”
Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.
“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”
You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”
“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.
You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.
You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?
“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”
“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”
“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”
“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”
Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”
“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”
“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”
“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”
Katie looks doubtful.
Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…
You don’t really want to talk to Terry.
“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.
“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”
“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.
“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.
“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”
“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”
Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”
“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”
“Fuck you,” Terry says.
“Fuck you,” Katie says.
Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”
“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.
“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.
“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”
“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.
“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”
“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”
“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”
“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.
You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”
“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”
“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”
“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”
“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”
“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.
“Guilty?” Katie asks.
You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”
Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”
“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.
“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”
You eat Terry.
People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.
Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.
Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.
When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.
Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”
You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”
“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”
“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”
“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”
You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”
“They…?”
You smile and don’t answer.
The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off.
“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.
“Message me,” you say.
“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.
“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”
You’re hungry again.
---
(Patreon)
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Sleepy Affection
Sylus X Reader
Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.
Word Count: 1061
Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.
---
Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.
But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.
You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.
You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.
Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.
---
The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.
One man seems to be at least.
By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.
Right to your sleeping dragon.
Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.
It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader.
Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.
His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.
It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room.
Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.
You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.
“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.
“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.”
He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.
You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”
You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.
“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”
You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”
“I promise.”
And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.
---
Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace reader insert#reader insert#x reader#lads sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus x reader#sylus x you#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#burnout#fluff
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can you do hybrid! Wolf toji claiming you during his rut?
THE HOWL OF DESIRE
Hybrid! Wolf toji x f!reader
Warnings- 18+, dark, slight non/con (Toji does not intend to harm you), size kink (both are adults), cave sex, multiple orgasms, nipple biting & play, fingering (Toji has black big nails), raw sex (cumming inside many times), breeding, pussy eating
wc - 2.6k
ART NOT MINE !
As you traverse through the dense woods, you find yourself getting increasingly disoriented, unsure of which way leads back to civilization. The sun's rays barely penetrating the thick canopy above, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. You begin to worry, knowing that spending the night here could lead to dangerous consequences.
Suddenly, your senses pick up on the sound of rustling leaves nearby. You freeze, trying to discern whether it is an animal or something more sinister.
A figure emerges from behind a tree, and you gasp involuntarily. It is a creature of height 6'1ft, he appears as a magnificent wolf-human hybrid. He is slender but muscular and athletic, and his wolfish aura makes him look intimidating. As he closes on your position you notice his ears flattened on his head and his tail is pointed upright, his body has chiseled muscles and trademark scars, his green sword-like eyes looking through your soul. His mouth bore fang-like teeth that you swear are more vicious than natural canine teeth of humans.
His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of hunger and desire burning within their depths.
"Hello, human," he growls softly, his voice tinged with an animalistic quality. "Lost, are we? Well, I don't normally go for humans, but you seem intriguing enough."
As you stand frozen in fear and confusion, Toji takes a step closer, his form shifting slightly, the wolf aspects becoming more pronounced. His eyes gleam with lust, and you can faintly smell his pheromones in the air – a testament to his overwhelming need to mate. "Ah finally," he says, taking another step toward you. "It's just my rut, and I need a mate to breed with. Normally, I wouldn't ask a human, but I cannot wait anymore."
His voice is calm, almost soothing despite the terrifying situation. Your heart races as you contemplate your options, but you realize that running might only agitate him further. Nonetheless your legs unconsciously start to move. There is only one way to get out of this- by running.
"So," he continues, his back facing you but when he turns to you, he sees you running, " What's a prey if they don't try running".
With a grin spreading across his face, Toji starts running after you, muscles rippling as he leaps after you. His movements are fluid and quick, darting through the trees with ease. You feel your adrenaline surge, pushing your speed to its limit as you navigate the unfamiliar terrain. However, he seems to know these woods intimately, and your panic increases as you realize you're unable to shake him off.
"Caught you little bunny" he exclaims, grabbing your neck. Despite his triumphant words, there's a hint of concern in his eyes. He pauses, contemplating his next move. "Running isn't going to solve anything, and believe me, you don't want to get hurt.. Or do you?"
"P-please let me go.. I have to get back home."
Toji weighs your plea, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully. His need for release is urgent, but he doesn't wish to harm you unnecessarily. "I can let you go, but I'm afraid you won't find your way back alone." His voice holds a note of genuine concern, his eyes softening momentarily.
Then, his expression shifts, the wolfish hunger returning. "But," he adds, "If you agree to stay and help alleviate my… condition, I promise to guide you safely back to where you belong. You won't regret it, trust me." He leans close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "I'll make sure you enjoy it too."
You stand there, contemplating your options. The thought of being alone in these woods, possibly lost for another night, is daunting. On the other hand, submitting to Toji's demands is equally terrifying, but there's a strange allure to it as well. His promise of safety and pleasure seems almost too good to be true.
As you weigh the pros and cons, Toji watches you intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He can sense your hesitation, and it fuels his desire even more. "I understand if you're scared," he says softly, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "But I promise, I won't hurt you. I just need someone to share this with, and you seem like the perfect one."
His touch is warm and comforting, despite the situation. You can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, as if he truly means what he says. "So, what do you say?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. "Will you help me, and let me help you in return?"
"O-only if you promise to be gentle..", you reply, your voice shaking from his intimidating aura.
Toji's eyes crinkle at the corners, a rare smile gracing his features. "Gentle it is," he assures you, his grip on your cheek gentle but firm. "I can't promise but I will try since you are my first human mate.. Come, let's find a suitable spot. We don't want to draw attention, do we?" His voice is smooth, radiating confidence and control. You hesitate, but there's a sense of safety in his presence that you can't deny.
With a deep breath, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you deeper into the woods. The fear is still there, but it's tempered by a growing curiosity. You're stepping into unknown territory, but for some reason, you don't feel threatened. Instead, there's a strange excitement coursing through you, making your heart beat faster.
As you follow Toji deeper into the woods, you begin to notice subtle changes in the landscape. Brambles part before you, revealing a hidden trail leading to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing lies a cave, half-hidden by the surrounding foliage. This is where Toji leads you, guiding you inside with a gentle push.
The cave is surprisingly cozy, lit by the dim light seeping through the entrance. There's a palpable sense of warmth and security, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Toji observes your reaction, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"This is my den," he explains, gesturing around. "Now, shall we proceed?" He tilts his head, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and expectation. You can tell that his rut is still strong, but he's patiently waiting for your lead.
Your nod sends a wave of excitement through Toji, his eyes glinting with eagerness.. He quickly steps closer, nearly ripping your pants and panties off. He hovers over you, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your thighs.
Surprised by his sudden movement, you struggle in his grip, "W-wait you need to loosen me up"
Toji pauses, confusion clouding his features for a brief moment. "Loosen you up?" he repeats, his voice heavy with confusion. Then, understanding dawns on his face, and he chuckles softly. "Tsk, I can wait no more but fine since you beg me so obediently", moving between your legs. He gently parts you with his fingers, feeling your dampness.
"You're already prepared," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice.
"Ah~", your back arches at his finger movements, your back hitting the ground of the cave.
At your response, Toji's eyes darken with lust. He thrusts his fingers into you roughly. "Are ya loose yet?" His eyes remain locked on yours, his expression a mix of impatience and excitement.
"n-no not yet.. a-ah", your voice cracks up in pleasure.
Toji's eyes narrow, his brows furrowing in concentration. He inserts a third finger, thrusting harder this time, stretching you wider. You cry out, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you as you near your edge.
"Humans are so responsive..." he mutters, his voice thick with desire as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity between you and him building, is only heightened by the dim light of the cave.
Finally, after several more thrusts, you reach your orgasm and he withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. "Ready?" He asks, his gaze locked on your face, waiting for your answer.
"mghh.. n-not now.. I need sometime.. I am sensitive right now", you protest.
Toji's eyes squint in annoyance "Shut up, I have been patient enough. I can't wait any longer."
With that, he positions himself between your legs again .With a sudden powerful surge, Toji thrusts into you, his giant cock stretching your poor hole wide. You gasp, your nails digging into the cave floor as you struggle to adjust to the intense sensation.
"Please.. A-ah .. be gentle"
"Shush..I am trying .. You humans are so fragile.. But", he grunts in pleasure, "ya feel so good. I never thought humans feel this good"
Though he is trying to be gentle, but your insides feel so good that he can't help but move relentlessly, his hips pumping in a primal rhythm. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain through you, your body responding to his dominance.
Despite your initial protest, you can't help but moan loudly, writhing beneath him. His roughness sets you ablaze, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts eagerly. His scent, his strength - everything about this experience overwhelms you. Your body cries out for release, and you know you won't last long.
"That's it, take it!" Toji growls, his eyes locked on yours. His primal nature is on full display, and it's intoxicating.
Your toes curl up as Toji's thrusts intensify, his eyes widening at your reaction. "Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "You feel incredible." His pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with brutal efficiency. You cry out, the cave echoing with your sounds of pleasure and pain.
His rut is nearing its peak, his body trembling with suppressed energy. With one last powerful lunge, he buries himself deep within you, filling you with his seed. "Take it all," he rasps, his breath hot against your neck.
In that moment, you surrender to the sensations, your own climax washing over you. Together, you collapse onto the cave floor, feeling spent but incredibly fulfilled. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, holding him close.
As he recovers, Toji nuzzles your neck, his breathing ragged. "I hope I was gentle enough," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.
"No .. you are so mean..", you reply panting.
Toji laughs, his chest rumbling against your throat. "Mean? Maybe, but effective, wouldn't you agree?" He teases, his grip on you tightening. "Besides, don't lie, you enjoyed it too."
He's right, you did enjoy it - despite the roughness. The intensity of the encounter left you shaken yet exhilarated. He turns you on your stomach "don't think it's over yet.. It's just a starting"
"w-what?", your pupil dilates at the though.
Toji pushes you on your stomach and he enters from behind. You moan, feeling him stretch you once again. With a smirk, he begins to thrust relentlessly, his body slamming against yours. His large hands grip your sides, holding you steady as he takes you from behind.
"We are going to do it whole night" he growls, each word punctuated by his thrusts.
You cry out, your body responding eagerly to his advances. You can't deny the pleasure surging through you. His dominance excites you, the raw intensity of his actions sending you spiraling towards another climax.
"God, you're so good," he praises, his voice thick with lust. "I could spend hours with you, sweet human."
"P-please can't no more", you plead.
Toji stills, pulling his cock out, your body shaking from oversensitiveness. "Already?" then he thrusts into you again. "I know you can handle this."
You cry out, feeling him entering you again.
Time skips, and you and he are still at it, you don't know what time it is, you don't know how many orgasms coursed through you.. The only thing you know is the pleasure you are getting from this.
Toji's eyes shine with lust, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he bounces you on his lap. Your hair falls in disarray around your face, your skin flushed from exertion. Each thrust elicits a soft moan from you, your body responding to his every command.
"Feel good?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. His eyes hold a mixture of satisfaction and hunger, his gaze never leaving your face. You nod, breathless, your nails scratching lightly at his shoulders.
"Good," he growls, increasing his pace. "I knew you'd love this." His hips buck, driving into you harder, faster. You cry out, your body reacting to his every touch.
"p-please play with my nipples too.. mhmm", your face flush with shame as you beg him to pleasure you. Unknowingly removing your hands remove your top and push up your bra, revealing your breasts with stiffening nipples.
Toji's eyes light up at your request, his hands immediately moving to your breasts. He pinches your nipples gently, then harder, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain from you. You cry out, your body arching in response.
"You like that?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "Is this what you wanted?"
You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He leans to catch one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, licking and sucking. His fangs brush your nipples, nibbling on them gently
"f-fuck .. dont bite them.. ahhh."
Toji pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He looks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "My apologies," he says, feigning innocence. "It seemed to please you though."
He resumes his thrusts, his movements fierce and unrestrained. His hands pinch and twist your nipples, his tongue lashing over them in turn. Each touch sends waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your body responding eagerly.
"I'm close," you whisper, your voice hoarse.
"Not yet," he growls, his eyes darkening. "I'm not done with you."
His words send a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cry out, your body writhing beneath him as he plays with your nipples, fucking you relentlessly.
"R-really can't anymore.. please let me .. let me cum", you beg him, tears falling from your cheeks.
Toji's eyes meet your teary eyes, his breath ragged.
"Don't cry little human", he licks your cheek wiping off your tears. "Then cum," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Let go."
With a final, hard thrust, he drives into you, the motion perfectly synchronized with your climax. You cry out, your body shaking as you crest over the edge. He follows suit, his cock pulsing within you as he finds his own release. He growls which sounds more like a howl, as he fills your womb with his thick seed.
Exhausted, you slump against him, your breathing ragged. He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
Soon you pass out. Toji catches you easily, his grip firm yet tender. "Awww. I wanted more though," he whispers, his voice softening, "but fine.. I have had enough fun.. I will help ya return tomorrow"
He gazes at your sleeping form, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. Despite his rough exterior, he cares for you. He wraps his big arms around you covering your fragile body, ensuring you stay warm throughout the night.
You awaken slowly, feeling warm, wet warmth between your legs. Your eyes flutter open, landing on Toji's face, his eyes gleaming with desire as he licks your cunt. The sight is both erotic and overwhelming.
"Morning," he greets, his voice thick with lust. "How are you feeling?"
You swallow hard, your heart racing. "W-what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" he responds, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Cleaning you up after last night's fun."
You blush, your body reacting to his touch whether you want it to or not. Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks and kisses your most intimate places.
"Mmm, you taste delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Like sweet honey."
"H-hey you said.. you will help me return back home.."
Toji raises his head, his eyes locked on yours. "Go home?" he repeats, surprise clear in his voice. "Oh yes.. But I want to fuck you before I leave you alone for good"
Your skin is already sensitive from his licks and touches, your body ready for more. You bite your lower lip before nodding.
He grins, his eyes filled with lust. "What we waiting for then?" He quickly moves, positioning himself between your legs.
He chuckles as your walls devour his huge girth. "I love how good your taking me.. Fuck.. I'll always find you during my rut, my little bunny."
#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustu kaisen#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji zenin#toji x you#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#toji#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro#jjk toji fushiguro#jjk toji smut#jjk toji x reader#jjk toji zenin#toji x reader#wolf hybrid#toji smut#hybrid jjk
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18+ only for the love of all things holy
Gojo loves seeing you rip your bra off at the end of the day and abandon it to the wastes of the laundry. When you lift your arms straight up in the air to stretch and he sees the shirt tightens and molds against the soft lines of your breasts without their constraints, oh it makes him salivate. The slight bounce of your tits when you walk around his house, paired with the curves of your ass peaking out from underneath the shorts that are honestly way too short. But Gojo isn't complaining.
He catches himself staring intensely at you, shifting his gaze between his two objectives, not knowing which to pursue first. So when your back is facing him he pounces, because there is no time like the present.
"So soft," he massages the plump flesh of your ass before kissing up on your neck. Part of you satisfied that Gojo is doing this, part of you wondered what got him to be so obsessed. Especially when it's almost that divine time, your breasts are only more tender and plump, his touch only grows hungrier.
"What's gotten into you?" Amused with the way he's touching you, so focused yet languid. He doesn't seem to be in a rush, taking his time with intention, his enjoyment doesn't come for free.
"Are you serious? How can I let you go home after this? Should just move in with me."
"Don't know what you're talking about." His hands travel, leaving behind your soft cheeks to attend to the warmth of your inner thighs. He groans softly. "You're sexy, babe." He loves and he loves loud, even if you're gonna be the only one hearing him. He hasn't dared to press his entire erection between your ass, the last thing he wants is you to freak out...
"...want me to–," "no, honey" he hisses, "let me just touch you for a bit yeah?" He turns you to face him, Satoru is flushed. Lips intertwine, hands to your hips then eventually slither upward, his favorite destination. Each pinch, each squeeze pushes you further into his alluring hold, all guards are down.
Must have been the way you pull away for a bit to tell him you love him so much, that explains why Satoru takes you by the hand to the bedroom and enjoys his meal from the back. Your face presses into the silken sheets, your arms splay across the bed with your fistfuls of fabric and your Satoru's face buried deep in your pussy and finges twirling your puckered rim. He's slow, then fast then his pace defied rhythm. His finger traces your rim slowly, not taking any attention away from your euphoric from cunnilingus alone, until he speeds up and you are torn between two pleasures.
"You're so yummy," as your holes only squeeze tighter, his pleasure is only intensifying with his fingers up in them, "you're kinda nasty babe, letting me do this to you, playing with your asshole like this," you are embarrassed, this felt kind of degrading but you love it. "D-didn't say you could~," he cocks his head, "it's okay I won't be rough. You whine a little when he replaces with his cock, how thick and warm and delicious the stretch he's giving you.
Satoru isn't counting, he doesn't care how many orgasms he can get from you. Today is about quality, not quantity, and he intends to have you for as long as possible. Even if it means all... night. With each stroke, you see stars. The way your face is shoved further and further into the mattress, he's rough but soft. Satoru is full of contradictions today.
#gojou x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo smut#jjk smut#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#Satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk#nice and sweet gojo
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