#and it changes over time and isn't immediate

[cheshirewrites]

"Darling," a voice calls from the door, "we have another one."

Dahlia sighs, and gets to her feet. The harvest had been going so well, too, she thinks to herself, sparing a glance towards the basket at her feet. The basket, as big as it is, is barely halfway full. The bottom is lined with freshly picked fruits and fragrant herbs, the usual kinds of things you would expect to find at a witch's residence.

She had been looking forward to working in her garden, and once she was done with that, checking on the magical creatures that tended to roam their woods.

Still, Dahlia knows what her lover is talking about, and that is far more important.

When she steps into the kitchen, Ari is leaning against the counter. There's flour on her cheeks and on her dress, and the smell of something baking in the oven, and Ari is engaged in a rapid fire conversation with a stranger.

And that, of course, is where the problems usually begin.

The stranger -- a teenager, because fate has always favored youth -- looks at Dahlia and grins. "'Ello, my good lord." Their grin turns playful. "Or should I say, my dark lord?"

"Neither," Dahlia says, as she makes herself comfortable next to Ari. "It's Dahlia, no formalities needed."

Their expression doesn't change. "Miss Dahlia, then."

Ari shifts closer, like she's going to tell a secret. "Do you have a name, little traveler? If you don't, I'm sure I can come up with something to call you."

"Fox," they say, and the name certainly fits, with their pointed features and scruffy, auburn hair. When they smile, it's all teeth. "My name is Fox."

"Well, little Fox," Dahlia says, taking a thorough look at them. Worn clothes, prominent ribs, a smile sharper than knives. "Cut to the chase. I doubt you sought out a dead hero and tyrant for fun."

Fox snarls, agitation clear in every inch of their body. "You are not the tyrant here," they say, angrily. "You aren't the one tearing apart the ground and poisoning the water. You aren't the reasons that thousands of people no longer have a roof over their head. You aren't the reason my Prince-"

They cut off abruptly, lanky body curling in on itself as a frown takes over their face. It reminds her of Ari, when she still kept her hair cropped short and always had countless daggers on her person. Back before she died, and was being run ragged for months on end.

"You work with the royal family, don't you, little Fox?" Dahlia says, not unkindly. "Many people in similar positions would call this treason."

The words have an undeniable effect, as Fox straightens to their full height. "I only work for the Prince," they say, "I'd happily watch the rest of them rot."

At her side, Ari smiles. "I'm glad that the youth haven't changed," she says, and her bright tone doesn't fit her next words. "Would you kill him if you had the chance?"

Dahlia gives Ari a knowing look.

Dahlia might be the former dark lord, or whatever it was they call her these days, but Ari is not without her moments. She had to learn how to fight somewhere, after all, and she has done a lot of things that aren't written in the history books.

She hides her amused smile behind her hand, and gives the two heroes a moment to themselves. It isn't hard to check on whatever is baking, after all, and Dahlia doesn't want to see her lover upset if something burns.

Besides, Dahlia thinks, Ari knows all too well the dangers of being associated with royals, and the price that comes with their status.

Of course, it doesn't really take that long to check the bread, and know that it still has plenty of time to go, but Dahlia gives them their privacy. She catches whispers, snippets of conversations, but doesn't pay them any mind.

Ari is more than capable of having this conversation on her own, and Dahlia will leave them be until Ari suggests otherwise.

It happens sooner than she expects. Her lover tape her shoulder, lightly at first, and then firmer, when Dahlia doesn't immediately respond. Dahlia just hums, gently closing the oven before she straightens, opting to lean against the counter again.

"Dahlia, my love," Ari begins, her expression somewhere between fond and pleading. "How do you feel about committing a little regicide? Might make for a lovely vacation, hm?"

Between the look in Ari's eyes, and the hope written all across Fox's face, there is very little doubt about what her answer will be. Between a former hero and dark lord, and their new little Fox, Dahlia is certain that the king won't survive another two weeks.

Dahlia smiles.

After all, things had just gotten a lot more interesting on this little farm of theirs.

The hero and the dark lord have both disappeared after their battle, making everyone think they both perished. In reality, they are living on a farm, living the life of their dreams.

[vauer]

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Reader x Jinx

SUMMARY: you are a thief who steals from people who are passing through your town. this time you came across the wrong person. that didn't stop you from fucking her though.

TW: sub!Jinx, fem!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, some kind of plot(?), fastburn

(English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes💌)

★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰ ★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰

Jinx moaned softly as she kissed her new friend's thin lips. The edge of the countertop rests uncomfortably against her lower back, forcing her to arch her back and make a dissatisfied mumble, only to hear a quiet chuckle in response. She couldn't believe how quickly this girl had managed to win her over.

A couple of weeks ago, a strange woman came into her small workshop. You were pretty and looked to be no more than twenty, but your piercing gaze was too intently and sharply jumping over various details of the interior, studying the situation. And you were wearing some ugly kind of wig.

“I haven't met you here before. May I know the name of such a charming lady?” your eyes sparkled playfull. Your intonation and body language put Jinx in a stupor. Since she faked her death and fled to the edge of the world, away from Piltover, changing her appearance, she has not yet received any attention from anyone. Jinx wasn't really sure if it was sarcasm, because she didn't look her best right now: crookedly cropped hair had grown back and looked even more untidy, and bright blue hair roots were starting to grow out from under the purple dye. And that's not to mention the oil and dust stains on the clothes.

“Powder," Jinx said after a couple of seconds of reflection. Lately, she's been using her old name to avoid attracting attention.

“Like baby powder or gunpowder?” you grinned annoyingly, leaning slightly on the table.

"Like gunpowder," Jinx replied grimly, rolling her eyes.

"Then you can call me Fuse," you grinned again, winking. Despite your outspoken flirtation, Jinx didn't miss the way your gaze appraisingly scanned her hideout.

"I have a business here, not a dating club," she grumbled, lazily rolling a blue hexteck ball around the table. Jinx chuckled inwardly, noticing how your gaze immediately eagerly darted to the jewel, as she suspected.

A couple of days later, she finally caught you trying to sneak into her workshop late at night.

“Are you looking for this?” Jinx appeared behind you, inserting a blue ball into the gun and pointing it at you.

“Rather for you,” not confused, you took a seductive pose, leaning on the table. “Jinx, right?”

“Well, how did you find out?” She rolled her eyes, pouting and moving closer to use the edge of the gun to push the hood off your head. Well, at least you weren't wearing an ugly burgundy wig right now. "I don't want to kill you. I'm kind of done with it.”

“Who else would have this round blue thing but Jinx? You're almost a legend. Almost,” you shrugged. You didn't seem to care much about the hextek-loaded pistol next to your temple. "You don't have to hide your identity here. No one cares who you are.”

"Except for you, of course," Jinx rolled her eyes.

“I don't care either. But I can say that you are too charming for the inadequate maniac they call you," you grinned flirtatiously again.

The shot cut off the edge of your bangs.

“Shut up!” Jinx said tiredly, going upstairs to sleep. Anyway, there was nothing to steal from her except the blue ball.She earned a couple of coins by repairing all kinds of utensils for the residents of the city, and that was all her money.

You had been coming to her several times a day for the past two weeks, but at least hadn't tried to steal anything. You just stared at Jinx while she worked, fixing something or building custom devices. After a while, you started chatting about little things, you brought her a snack when Jinx sat in the workshop for hours without leaving. She had to admit that she liked such a quiet life much more than the hustle, intrigue and dangers of Piltover.

Day after day, and at some point Jinx found herself pinned against her own desk, whimpering softly in need as your deft hands pulled off her top, tracing the contours of her tattoos with your fingers. You leaned to her neck, leaving weightless kisses on the pale, almost transparent skin.

Jinx's knees were already buckling with impatience and excitement, and a fog of lust filled her head. Squeezing the thin skin of her thighs, you lifted her up, setting her down on the table. You lips gently touched the skin between Jinx's breasts, saying one word.

— Perfect.

Jinx flinched, her eyes widening. Then a purple flash followed and she practically hung on to you, wrapping her legs around your waist and kissing you deeply, simultaneously taking off your top.

Meanwhile, you reached for her pants, pulling them off along with her underwear. Jinx leaned back, supporting her reclining position with her hands. Her stomach was trembling slightly with excitement as your lips dropped a kiss just below her waist.

Finally, you wrapped your arms around her hips, lifting her legs and pressing your lips to her wet and throbbing flesh, making Jinx moan and arch her back.

Your soft tongue explored her folds inside and out, knocking more whimpers and moans out of her and causing her muscles to contract from overexcitation.

"You're doing great for the first time," you purred, pulling back slightly to run a finger over her sensitive clit, lightly teasing her entrance before gently pushing two fingers inside. Jinx tensed slightly, but then relaxed, and feeling pleasantly full, began to move her hips towards your hand. The wet sounds only added to their excitement.

You smiled contentedly at the sight of Jinx’s eyes closed with pleasure and her bitten lower lip. When you curled your fingers upward slightly inside her, Jinx screamed at the unusual sensations, breathing heavily.

“What is it?” She mumbled plaintively as you plugged her with a wet kiss, continuing to move your fingers inside her. You showered Jinx's chin and neck with soothing kisses, feeling her inner muscles begin to contract, bringing orgasm closer.

You accelerated your movements slightly, pressing your fingers against her upper wall and applying pressure to her swollen clit. Jinx didn't have time to figure out what happened when she felt a clear liquid squirting out of her on her thighs and stomach. Blushing, she tilted her head back, allowing the orgasm to swallow her.

***

A few weeks of being alone and talking to herself had loosened Jinx's tongue. She desperately wanted to brag about how brilliantly she had convinced the whole of Piltover and her own sister of her death.

“And then I slipped out through the ventilation and hijacked the airship while they mourned the dead and me,” Jinx enthusiastically talked about her adventures, while you lazily braided her short hair into small pigtails.

“And then where did you put it?” you asked.

“And that's beside the point, as far as I remember," Jinx narrowed her eyes in displeasure. You grinned, pulling her closer to your chest.

[writergirlll]

Will you write a lazy day with Charles Leclerc and Leo? Maybe Charles came back exhausted from a race that didn't go so well and all he needs is a hug from his girlfriend?

LAZY EVENING/ CL16

Charles Leclerc x reader

sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but I enjoyed writing it! It's just a lot of fluff sorry guys!!

Charles was always good at what he did. Cooking, making things, cuddling with your dog, or driving in Formula 1. He broke the curse of Monaco and thus began his huge career. But this race he ran didn't go too well, due to Ferrari's bad strategy and bad tires. And so he got a DNF in the first qualification and placed 5th in the overall race.

Which is certainly not a bad thing, especially since this race was in Las Vegas, where there are always the most participants and the track is very difficult to remember, but for Ferrari, who had to finish the season well, it wasn't enough.

Charles was mainly angry with himself. He knew that he should have tried harder and that he had messed up the race, but all he wanted was to finally get out of the cameras and pitiful stares and get cozy in bed with his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, You wasn't at his race because you had to stay at the hotel and do computer work due to work reasons that you hated. However, you definitely did not miss the race and watched it until the end, when Verstappen, Sainz and Norris stood on the podium.

But as midnight slowly approached and you tried harder and harder to stay awake to wait for Charles, your eyes closed until they closed completely and you fell asleep over an open laptop with work and the TV on with the main broadcast of interviews with F1 drivers.

When Charles came home, he expected you to be waiting for him. Therefore, he opened the door sharply, put his backpack on the floor and gave a small shout; "Love, I'm home"!

You twitched and grunted slightly in your sleep before turning over on the couch to face the TV and snuggling further into the blankets. You didn't plan to open your eyes because in your sleepy state you didn't realize that Charles was home.

Hearing no response, Charles frowned slightly and slowly walked into the living room. When he saw how the TV was on with F1 and you were sleeping on the couch, he couldn't help but feel happiness and love.

You were his everything. In good times and in bad, you were his sunshine. And that's why when he saw you sleeping in front of the TV with the footage of the other Formula 1 drivers, it warmed his heart. He knew very well how sad you felt when you couldn't make it to his race.

He slowly walked over to you, kneeling by your head and slowly brushing your hair away from your face. Then he bent down so as not to wake you and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smiled a little under his touch as you realized who it was and slowly opened your tired eyes. “Hi Char” you smiled at him and reached out to stroke his cheek. “Congratulations on the race” you smiled.

He leaned into your touch and his smile brightened even more. “Shall we go to sleep?” he asked as he saw you close your eyes again even though you were trying not to and you slowly nodded.

“And where is Leo?” he asked one more question before he could pick you up in his arms and carry you to bed. You didn't answer anything and just lifted the blanket, where a small golden dog was hidden by your lap, which has become your "child" for the six months you've had it.

When he saw Charles, he immediately got up and ran his short legs to him for a kiss and a cuddle.

After Charles cuddled up to him, he scooped you up in his arms as a reward for having to wait for him and carried you to bed with Leo at your heels.

He slowly laid you down on the bed, you shifted to your side and waited for him to take off his shirt, change his pants and come to you.

Before long, he finally appeared by the bed in just his shorts and you couldn't help but bite your lip when you saw him like that. You still didn't understand how someone like him could be yours.

He climbed into bed behind you, pulling you to his side and you rested your head on his shoulder. One of his hands caressed your back and the other brushed your hair away from your face. Again. You should probably get a haircut..

“I love you do you know that?” he whispered in your ear and you raised your head to be directly facing him.

“How could I not know Char?” you smiled and leaned down so your lips met his halfway. It was a loving kiss that you thought was more of a good night, but later it got more and more passionate.

When you were both out of breath, you had to pull away from each other. “Are you sure you want to go to sleep?” he asked, looking all over your face.

You did, you think them even though you were actually 100% clear. "I'm not sure..." you whispered before smiling and bringing your head closer to his.

"I think you know" Charles smiled lightly and connected his lips to yours again, this time in a hungrier kiss.

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

hm more heavenly demon!sy thoughts,,, i am invested

the system had an error bc sj's body and soul are still very much together bc he hasn't even experienced a single qi deviation yet, so it tries to find a good substitute to throw sy's soul in

when it can't find any, it decides to make a body that sy is most familiar with (it should be a human, but the system was impressed by sy's very passionate rants about lbh's heavenly demon abilities) so boom. heavenly demon sy

he wakes up in the endless abyss. the system has to hibernate bc the body has taken too much of its power so: here is sy, with an almost invincible body, alone in the endless abyss. oh, and he doesn't know about his heritage. all he knows is that he's in the abyss of pidw

ofc sy immediately geeks out over the demonic beasts and all the plants!!! look he could never visualize what a wyrm-mule looks like or how a porcupine-quail could possibly work, and now he gets to see them! irl!!

well not irl exactly, but if this isn't a very weird dream and he's really transmigrated into some background npc, then it's all well and good. his knowledge of the endless abyss should be enough to keep him safe

he does get very weird urges tho like wdym he's suddenly not squeamish with blood?? why is tearing off his arm now a good strategy to get out of the jaw of a black moon python rhinoceros??? sure his body weirdly could regenerate (tested and proven when he keeps tripping over roots that just keep popping up in his way somehow) but he should be a bit more against that, right?

he also gets the urge to bare his teeth when aggressive beasts crowd around him. his teeth are suspiciously pointy when he feels them, and somehow, the beasts are... intimidated? just like that? when he snarls at them. things also bend to his will for some reason? he was irritated with a swamp (he does not want to wade through that), and then the next time he looks back at it, it's gone???

the demons he came across are very polite, too. completely unlike his expectations. sy thinks he's lucky to meet civilized demons with human-like mannerisms, and does not notice that they're batshit terrified of this one heavenly demon conspiciously leaking out so much demonic qi that it's a miracle he hasn't passed out (which is even more scary bc that is a heck ton of qi)

then because sy is sy, he wifebeams the terrified demons. he talks so animatedly with them, asking questions about their customs without judgment! his smile is so pretty and charming! even in his dirty clothing and unkempt hair, he still looks like a beauty!

then sy takes a bath when he arrives at the demons' village and takes offer to wash up, notices his reflection, and promptly freaks out

is he tlj??? no, tlj does not look like this in pidw's official art, but demons can shapeshift, right? has he messed up the plot??? what date is it even?? is lbh even born yet?? is he lbh's grandfather?????

the demons are rightfully frightened but also worried when sy accidentally destroys a wall of the bath in his haste to get out and get some answers. luckily, this is the demon realm, or his tendency to wear only inner robes will be heavily scrutinized!

sy then plans to get into the human realm (he knows of a few ways) to change the plot! he can't possibly leave lbh to suffer like in pidw if he has the ability to change it...

except lbh is not even born yet.

he does meet tlj, and woooo the demon is so chill and has an entire library full of the worst novels sy has ever read in his entire life (still better than pidw). tlj seems like a sweetheart, how could he possibly wage a war against the human realm that led to his imprisonment? smth is fishy here!

(behind him, tlj kills an entire horde of demons for daring to plan to capture sy. sy is now his little brother. sy does not have the choice of refusing)

and so they travel to the human realm together. tlj immediately fucks off to the nearest bookstore, and sy would have loved to follow him except he has Seen the Plot. then he's suddenly trying to pass off as a wandering cultivator that forgot most of the human customs (very suspicious) bc he's spent most of the time researching plants and animals (ok, his infodumps make that believable) in front of cang qiong cultivators

and then cang qiong offers him to become a teacher in the beast taming peak bc why not (they heard of rumors of a kind wandering cultivator with incredibly accurate portrayals and info about demonic beasts, and also sy is acting Very Sus so they kinda want to keep an eye on him)

(tlj is laughing at him so hard he dislocates a shoulder)

look i just want sy to have the time of his life exploring the endless abyss without the system or the plot breathing down his neck and then i want to throw him into the most stressful situations of his life (coexisting with the disciple versions of the peak lords, and also not getting himself killed for being a heavenly demon, and also tlj's steadily increasing panic on how to court a cold human cultivator who could bodyslam him and throw him over her shoulder and walk off to the sunset)

[hobby1008]

Chasing pleasure

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

sullyoon X M Reader

Tags: non-con ,creampie

You are the manager of NMIXX

Now, due to the schedule, you had to move with sullyoon, and you were looking for her.

While you were doing that, you heard a moaning sound from somewhere, and your body moved to the place where the sound came from.

There were two naked people exploring each other. You were staring at the scene as if you were possessed. You quickly started to think about who they were.

The man was someone you had never seen before, but the woman was someone you knew best, the very sullyoon you were looking for. You were surprised that sullyoon was having sex, but you were even more surprised to see the man with her. She had a boyfriend, but the man you were looking at was not her boyfriend. You immediately filmed the scene, and after getting enough content, you left the place.

When you saw what you had filmed, you started to worry. What should you do with this video? Will you blackmail her for money, or demand her body? You found the answer in a very short time.

As long as she had this video, she had to meet all your demands, and decided to get them as soon as possible.

You were driving right after her personal schedule was over the next day. You were supposed to take her to her dorm, but instead, you headed to your house.

After you got there, you turned off the engine, and she said, “Huh? Where is this? Aren’t you going to your dorm?”

“I have something to talk to you about, so can you stop by my house for a bit?”

She looked puzzled, but quickly agreed, and the two of you went into the house.

You prepared a simple tea and gave it to her, and she took a sip of it and said, “But what did you have to talk to me about?”

After hearing that, you thought you wouldn’t hesitate, so you sat next to her, and showed her what you had filmed.

She looked at you with a very surprised expression. “How did you do this?” You smiled at her and said, “Isn’t this a really funny video? A top star having an affair with her boyfriend?”

She then looked at you with a pleading expression and said, “Please erase it and I’ll do whatever you want.” “Really? Then suck my dick right away.” “Oh.. no, please I’ll give you everything else. Money? Do you want money?”

You show her the video again and say with a firm expression “You want your boyfriend and the public to see this.”

She then immediately changes her expression to submissive

and takes off your pants to reveal your dick.

She looks slightly surprised at your size

and you are satisfied with her.

But soon she starts caressing your dick.

She licks your glans lightly and puts it in her mouth right away.

“Fuck,” you moan, feeling ecstasy as her cherry lips wrap around your swollen shaft. Then she sees your reaction and puts your dick further into her mouth and starts caressing it slowly.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss through clenched teeth and run your fingers through her hair. She shook her head, flicked her tongue, and licked you with her saliva while caressing your cock.

"Fuck, so good sullyoon." You felt the urge to put both hands on her head and use her face, and you did it right away. After placing both hands on her head and slightly shaking your hips, you used her face, and she looked up at you with a contemptuous look in her doe eyes. That expression turned you on even more, and you used her face at a faster pace.

She quickly lost her breath and made a gesture asking you to release her. However, you ignored it and used her face for a few more minutes, and then released her. Then she immediately coughed and took a hard breath. "Isn't that what an affair partner does?" She listened to me and gasped for breath without saying anything. You sat her down on the sofa, spread her legs, and put your hand under her skirt, and tried to take off her panties. Then she looked surprised and started begging. “No, please.. I’ll satisfy you with my mouth. Here..” “What? You enjoyed it so much as an affair partner, why can’t I? I thought you liked other men’s dicks, but it’s too bad. I have no choice but to tell your boyfriend.”

Then she released her hand that was blocking you and immediately took off her panties. Then her shaved pussy was revealed, and it was incredibly beautiful and delicious. You immediately put your finger in and caressed her.

Then she squeezed your hand and started to squirt her juice. “Wow, sullyoon, your juice is amazing too.” You immediately put your dick in her pussy because she was ready.

Then she said to you with a pleading expression “Please… Go easy on me, this is my first time with something this big.” Her words were not meant to excite you, but were just a request, but they made you even more excited, and you slowly began to enjoy her pussy as she begged.

As her pussy, which was sullyoon, was filled with your big dick, she struggled to find her moans, and that started to burn your competitive spirit. You decided to take her down and make her a whore panting for your dick.

You first slowly gave her time to adjust to your dick, and then began to move.

It was a small movement for you, but it was a difficult movement for sullyoon, and she was barely holding on. You were so happy with her appearance, and began to humiliate her. “sullyoon.. Don’t you like it too much, I haven’t even started yet.”

You began to enjoy her pussy in earnest. You poked her deepest and most sensitive spot without any effort, and she soon lost her will and started to moan and squeeze your dick even more.

You started to give her pussy even greater pleasure. You filled her pussy at a fast pace, and took it out. And stabbing the best spot, And then she started to moan primitively saying, "Oh my-!", and her body shook under you, and she was surprised by her own moan just now, and said, "Please finish quickly." and. She didn't know what to do. "Words and actions are different, right, Mr. Sullyoon? Your pussy seems to be begging for my dick." She couldn't say anything after hearing you.

She started to crave this pleasure that she couldn't feel, and her internal muscles contracted as if they were waiting for you. You felt her heat, and her love juice wrapped around me, welcoming your dick.

“sullyoon.. admit everything and admit that my dick is good, and I’ll make you fall into the pleasure you want so much.” As soon as he said that, he started fucking her pussy indiscriminately.

“Relax and feel my dick. I’ll send you to heaven.” You continued to seduce sullyoon while muttering in her ear as you increased your speed. You hit her most sensitive part, and sullyoon’s legs were pulled up to your shoulders, and her entire body was arched in a beautiful arc.

You started to enjoy her even more by humiliating her with sullyoon’s reaction.

“You said no, but doesn’t it feel so good?”

She then looked at your dick with a resentful look in her eyes, panting, and you were satisfied with the sight.

“You’re mine, sullyoon. From now on, I can enjoy your delicious pussy whenever I want.” As your low voice echoed in sullyoon's ears, she made a gesture of resistance and said. "No… I can't… I have a boyfriend…" she said, but sullyoon's body squeezed her pussy even more as if pleading with you, wanting to fuck you, and you stabbed the deepest part of her body with your dick again at her attitude.

Then, the traces of resistance in sullyoon's eyes disappeared and were filled with longing. To put an end to sullyoon's increasingly surrendering appearance, you rubbed her clitoris with your hand, and started poking her g-spot with your dick.

Then, her pussy contracted violently as if it desperately wanted your dick, and hot water gushed out, soaking you.

However, you didn't stop even after her orgasm, and you thrust into her with more force, and she began to gasp as she fell into a great pleasure she had never felt before.

Her initial feelings of rejection towards you rather spread into even more longing for you, and she turned into a whore for your cock, squeezing your cock even more.

“That’s right, sullyoon.. You’re just a whore who wants cock, nothing more or less, you whore.”

She started to get even more excited when she heard the insults. “Beg for my cock, you whore, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“It feels so good, cock, this is the first time I’ve felt this way, fill me up and…”

sullyoon was once again in the moment of orgasm, moaning happily, and falling into unprecedented bliss, and you watched her reaction, and your movements became more intense, almost penetrating her.

Her body had already surrendered to your cock and was in pleasure. She was moaning so loudly that you couldn't find any behavior that tried to find moaning before, and every time you hit her like that, she fell into more pleasure, and felt her pussy wanting to pull out all your cum.

As you witnessed her squeezing and becoming a whore, the moment of climax was imminent, and you said to her, "You whore, I'll fill you up with cum."

Then you looked at her eyes and said, "Okay," and you used your last output to spray a large amount of cum deep inside her.

Then she fell into orgasm once again, feeling your cum coming out, and feeling the cum moving inside her pussy, and fell into pleasure.

[lasanya539]

no restitution comes tonight

(based on this piece by @darkpolicepsycho)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles TW: Mentions of Su!cide Word Count: 5647

Posted on AO3!

---

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission, Donnie thinks.

It's dark in the med bay, the lights are turned down. The digital clock on the wall blinks to 2:35, 2:36, 2:37 A.M. It's cold in here, but it doesn't bother him. The purple hoodie he's wearing should be preserving some heat, but Donnie genuinely can't feel a thing. The sensations of his body are a far-away concept, like sand between his fingers, slipping away no matter how much he tries to hold on to them.

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission.

He blinks. And blinks again. For the first time since that night, his brain registers a feeling: dry eyes, crusty and in pain. Surely the result of staring at his purple holograms for the last few hours. A multitude of readings crowd the screens, the numbers changing with the continuous recordings of heart rate and blood pressure and body heat and pulse ox levels and— He breathes, turning his eyes away. The holograms glow in the room. His eyes track the shadows they form on the bed against the wall, haloing its occupant in a pretty lavender hue as he sleeps on.

Donnie stands up, bones creaking. He stretches, hearing something in his back crack; he’s been slouched over the plastic chair of the med bay for hours now. He walks to the stretcher, quietly, towards a slumbering Leo.

It's weird to see him like this. So vulnerable. Leo's notorious insomnia, combined with how light of a sleeper he is, has made it nearly impossible for any of the brothers to catch him passed out on them. It's almost always the other way around: Raph on the couch after a movie marathon, Mikey on the kitchen table surrounded by  comics, Donnie in his lab chair after a night of obsessing over his newest hyperfixation. They always wake up to find a warm blanket tucked over their shoulders, and a silly stuffed toy by their heads to greet them in the morning.

Donnie gulps, running a gentle hand over the blanket that covers Leo now. As much as he wishes, this isn't a night of miraculous deep sleep for his twin, a full eight hours of Leo's perpetually tired mind cycling through all stages of NREM and REM.

No, he thinks, turning to check his vitals again. This is much worse.

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission.

The objective was simple: get into the Hidden City, into Witch Town, sneak into the Museum of Mystical Artefacts and Gems, steal an obsidian diamond dagger, and leave unobtrusively. That was it, that was all. The Mad Dogs have done dozens of similar missions in the past. Granted though, the stakes of this one were a bit higher: the mystical obsidian, inlaid with unrefined diamond, was apparently the only thing strong enough to destroy the Krang key. And the sooner they got rid of the wretched thing, the better.

It had been going well; they snuck in and pulled off the heist, with the weapon safely tucked away with Raph, and they were on their way out, leaving behind a decoy without tripping any of the alarms. Everything had been perfect.

Until Donatello was recognized. By none other than the mayor of Witch Town.

Mira singled him out almost immediately, her shrill voice drawing the attention of all the Witch Town residents out and about. He'd been naive enough to believe that his little feud from two years ago would have been forgotten, an old mistake made by the last vestiges of his youthful arrogance. But he was wrong, very wrong.

And Leo paid for it.

He should have seen the verbal attacks coming, he really should have. He also shouldn't have responded to her accusations with barbs of his own, already on the defense, angry, and jeopardizing their extremely important mission. Leo's voice was clear in the comms in his ear, the calm and collected leader, telling him to back off before things got worse. But he didn't listen, until there was a whole crowd of angry witches surrounding him.

He could've managed it, Donnie thinks bitterly now, a finger on his brother's pulse point on his wrist. Fine, okay, he might have blown some stuff up, caused much more of a scene than any of them planned for on this trip, but he could have managed it. But his stupid, self-sacrificial twin just had to jump in the middle of the conflict, Face-Man routine on full blast.

Leo and his crowd-working, situation-diffusing skills, managed to calm almost everyone down. One lie here, one exaggeration here, one self-deprecating joke there, and the people were in the palm of his hand, swept up into the Neon Leon magic. No one could argue with that bright grin and those confident, shining eyes, as Leo hooked an arm over Donnie's shoulder and started to guide him out.

He managed to fool hundreds of witches and wizards. Except Mira.

Donnie noticed her a second too late, didn't see her narrowed stare and tightening grip on her staff. His eyes were for Leo only, watching a side of his twin he hadn’t seen surface in weeks, not sure if he was glad for the reappearance or not.

When he finally did see her, he barely had time to gasp, seeing her staff pointed directly to the center of his plastron. He’d braced himself in that one millisecond, squeezing his eyes shut. Before he was forcefully pushed out of the way.

A veilbreaker curse, Draxum had called it, when he was frantically summoned to the lair as the three brothers rushed a passed-out Leo back home. Mikey had nearly been in tears, hiccuping into the phone call, begging him to bring all his books on any kind of mystic knowledge to them. The alchemist had stood over Leo, a hand resting on his forehead with a gentleness only their own father had ever shown them, an ancient scroll open in front of him as he recited, Shatter the facade and lay bare the soul.

Donnie grips Leo's hand tightly now, gritting his teeth.

With one wayward swipe, he makes all his floating holograms disappear. The readings they're showing him are irrelevant to Leo’s real condition. 

He fixes the goggles on his head over his eyes, tapping the side to activate the long-hidden crystal. His breath catches in his lungs at the sight before, the same way it did when he first looked through the mystic lenses.

Ichor. The golden blood that flows in the veins of gods. Comes from the Greek word ikhṓr. It's a bit of a misconception, actually, that ichor is gold in color. Several representations of Greek mythology disagree, some arguing for blue, some arguing for plain red.

Still, it's the only word that comes to Donnie's mind, as he watches the liquid drip down the edges of Leo's face, tear-like droplets rolling off his head, cheek, temple, chin. As if a mask has been carved out of his face, and the wound is oozing, like blood seeping from a deep gash.

He shudders out a breath, and forcefully takes off the goggles. The horrifying vision disappears, and he's greeted with the simple sleeping visage of his twin.

It doesn't make it any easier. Donnie presses his knuckles into his lips. In fact, it makes it all the more terrifying. It’s a problem lying beyond the physical reach. Beyond Donnie's reach. Something's broken, something needs to be fixed, something that’s hurting his family, and he can't fix it.

He's a man of science. And despite the lessons he’s learned over the last many months, mysticism is still the one thing he can't solve.

He squeezes Leo's hand once more involuntarily, trying to subdue the swell of emotions rising in his body, grounding himself with the vice-like grip.

"Dude. Ow."

He jolts in response, retracting immediately as his heart thunders in his chest. "S-sorry, shit. Sorry."

Leo's bleary eyes peer up at him through the slight frown of someone unwillingly woken up. He blinks at him once, then yawns, languidly stretching, not unlike a cat.

Donnie lets out a snort against his will. Leo gives him a look.

"Somethin' funny?" He mumbles, as if his brain isn't completely online yet. "You know it's not nice to use my actions against me when I'm not even awake enough to recite the first ten digits of pi yet."

"You're never awake enough for that." He responds.

Leo rubs his nose sleepily, still managing to look miffed. “I know the first ten digits.” He grouses. “Three, one, four, one. Uh…”

“Uh-huh.” Donnie says, voice tinged with amusement at the familiar bantering. “Keep going, genius. Next number is a five.”

Leo seems to think for a minute, before he huffs. “Whatever, I know the digits, okay? I’m just not awake enough for them right now.”

Donnie’s lip twitches. Leo bends and reaches over the side of the stretcher, pressing the button on the side that raises the angle of the head section, until he nestles in comfortably in a semi-sitting position.

"Better?" Donnie asks, as he rubs at his eyes, trying to wake himself up.

All of a sudden, Leo freezes, like the lightening bolt of realization strikes him at once. He jolts forwards with a panicked look. Donnie startles.

"The dagger!" He exclaims, reaching out to grip him tightly to convey his urgency. "The – the whole Witch Town thing! Did we figure it out? Are Mikey and Raph—"

"They're all fine." Donnie interrupts, resting a comforting hand over the fingers as they dig into his forearm. "We figured it out. The dagger and key are with the Caseys, and the three of us got out safe, I promise.”

Leo stares into Donnie's eyes longer, as if trying to decide for himself. The hesitation at believing him stings, a silent question lingering between them. But then he eventually sighs, his relief palpable, lying back and letting go.

"Okay, okay, that's good." Leo breathes, smiling at him. "You're all okay, that's great."

He purses his lips. "Yeah." He says curtly. "All of us except you."

Leo blinks, as if surprised. Donnie gapes at him; he hadn’t hurt his head, and the spell that hit him wasn’t a memory spell, right? 

“You got hurt, Leonardo. Ring any bells? Why do you think you’re in the med bay right now?”

“Oh… oh, yeah, I remember.” He responds, somehow sounding even more dismissive about it. “But I’m not in pain at all, and it doesn’t feel like I’m not on meds. So I’m fine, then.”

Leo starts shifting, throwing off his blanket as if he was planning on leaving, but Donnie’s cutthroat glare stops him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He demands. “That witch hit you with a curse, dum-dum, you’re staying here.”

Leo barely looks moved. Was he just planning on getting hexed and going about his life like normal? 

Still, he asks obligatorily, "What kind of curse?" 

"Does it matter?" Donnie snaps. Of course it does, but Leo’s nonchalance at the whole matter is pissing him off further. "If I tell you it's nothing, you'll act like it's nothing, won't you?"

"Dude, if it's nothing, then why would I bother anyone with it?"

The reply seems to stupefy both of them. Leo genuinely looks stunned at himself, eyes wide at the extremely honest answer. Donnie mirrors him, before composing himself.

"Even if it was nothing, I would want to be bothered with it." He says slowly, hoping to convey how clear that expectation was, but then shakes his head. "And it wasn't nothing. It was a curse, a genuine curse. It was all - pink and glowy and ominous." He gestures with his hands, driving his point home. "Draxum said it was a veilbreaker. Ancient, powerful magic. Enough to make you pass out." He emphasizes again. How is Leo not getting that through his thick skull?

He still just sits there like an idiot, as if he still doesn't understand the problem. "But I’m fine now, right?"

Donnie wants to be difficult on purpose, make some kind of joke about you're supposed to be the medic, you tell me. But it's too late in the night for taunts, and the image of glowing ichor from before keeps flashing behind his eyelids.

"Your vitals are normal." He reports. "As far as I can tell, you're physically fine—"

"Then we're good, jeez—"

"But mystically," Donnie continues, irate, "you’re not. There's enough energy emanating off of you that Draxum clocked you the second he stepped foot in the lair. He's worried, dumbass. And if Draxum is worried, you know it's bad."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Leo asks, a tad sharper than Donnie expects. He’s scowling at him, like he's the one getting irritated. "Sit in a bed, wait for Mikey's Pops to give me the all-clear?"

"Yes." Donnie pauses before he forces the word out, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're supposed to wait until you're better to get back to... whatever it is you're planning on getting back to! Is that seriously such a surprise to you?"

Leo just huffs, crossing his arms and almost pouting, like a child. Sometimes his twin boggles his mind. 

"Are you being purposefully obtuse for some reason?” Donnie asks, exasperatedly. 

"I don't feel any different than normal, dude, and I have more important things to do—"

"Like what? Read a Jupiter Jim comic I know you've read a billion times before? Drink enough caffeine to give a horse a heart attack? Go walk around New York City in the middle of the night? Yeah, I know about that," Donnie adds when Leo looks surprised. "Of course I know about that, who the hell do you take me for? I told you, I have trackers on everyone and on everything."

Leo bares his teeth at him, pissed. "Stop fucking tracking me."

"Stop getting into trouble." He responds, and maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Leo's face transforms from anger into hurt so quickly it gives him whiplash.

Donnie promptly tries to do some damage control, guilty. "No, that's not what I meant."

"No, that is." Leo bluntly states. He's gripping the edge of the blanket tightly, eyes narrow. "You mean that. You think all I do is 'get into trouble'.’

"Okay, no, stop twisting my words, that's not what I fucking said." Donnie almost snarls. God, he hates when Leo does this, taking one thing he's spoken in a moment of anger and distorting it, sharpening it to a point. Like a knife to stab himself with, whether to prove something to Donnie or to himself, no one knows. "That is not 'all you do'. But I have a tracker on you because I’m worried about you. It’s the exact same reason why I have a tracker on Raph and Mikey and April and Dad.”

Leo looks a little mollified, and Donnie ignores the quiet voice in the back of his mind that calls him a liar.

"You don't have to be that worried about me, Dee." He replies. Genuine, tired. "I'm all good, I always am."

Donnie has to remind himself to take the next breath, despite it feeling like it's been squeezed out of him. A ball of frustration rises in his throat, and he manages to speak around it gruffly, "Why did you take the hit for me, Leo?"

Leo blinks again, either at the question or the tone, it's hard to tell. "Huh?"

"The curse." He grits out. "Why did you jump and take the hit, when you knew Mira aimed it at me?"

"Because there was no way in hell I was going to let you get hurt," comes the immediate reply, and it's sincere, it's so sincere that it once again shocks Leo, who refuses to meet his eye.

"Even at your own expense?" Donnie asks, desperation tainting his voice. "Leo. That spell could have been anything, from – from a dumb itching hex to a fucking Avada Kedavra, don't you understand that?"

“Yeah, of course I understand that.” He responds with equal fervor. “Which is why I couldn't let it hit you."

"So you took it?"

"Yeah, Don, ‘cause it's fine if it’s me!"

Hysterically, Donnie wonders if they're in a telenovela, and the words exclaimed by Leo are repeatedly echoing in the room as loudly as they are echoing between his eardrums. If there really is dramatic music playing in the background, or if it's just an overwhelming buzzing happening in his mind, drowning out all other sounds.

There are faint flickers of gold at the edges of Leo's face, just barely present, shimmering like the surface of a liquid, as he heaves out a breath. He curls up into a ball, knees tucked in, trying to hide, as if that would take the words out of the air.

Donnie can feel his brain whirring, thoughts and equations and memories playing on repeat, trying to figure out the basis of this outlandish concept that his twin has somehow ingrained into his psyche. That somehow, Leo getting hurt is 'fine', in any context.

He can't think of a single reason why.

Well. A single valid reason, anyway.

Because the reality is that he knows Leo. All that bolstering and blabbering and omitting and deflecting; it all can fool others, fool the world, fool their father, sometimes even their other siblings. But it can’t fool Donnie.

Not Donnie, because he's watched him create this… other version of himself, slowly and meticulously. He’s been an audience to his twin picking up this role like an ill-fitting shirt, carefully tearing and stitching and stretching and pulling at it over the years, until he grew into it flawlessly. A perfect cover, so that putting it on or taking it off would make no difference. Blurring the line between them into indiscernibility, so no one would be able to tell there was anything missing in the first place. Like a Schrödinger's Leo, except the cat and the box are one and the same. Can't see the cat without looking into the box; can’t find the box without asking the cat. 

But Donnie can see it in front of him, both the box and the cat, now that the veil has been broken. Hamato Leonardo. The facade shattered and soul laid bare. The mask carved out and the ichor trickling away.  

He closes his eyes and lets out a bitter scoff, tinged with dark amusement. Who knew witches had a penchant for poetic irony?

"You think you getting hurt is better than any of us getting hurt?" Donnie asks him, point blank.

Leo curls into himself more, eyes flitting away, the action an answer in itself. The gold tears marring the sides of his face shine a little brighter, highlighting his red stripes unnaturally.

"You think – what? You don't want to see us hurt, so you'd rather take it?" He blinks back the wet burning he feels in his eyes. "Don't you think we don't want to see you hurt either? For any of our sakes?"

Leo sniffles into his arms. "It's not the same."

"Why?" Donnie implores. "What makes you so different from us?"

Leo looks away, but he puts a hand around his arm and pulls roughly, almost toppling him. Leo tries to jerk back, but Donnie glares at him angrily.

"No, answer me." He asks, done with it. "Why do you think you’re so different, huh? What gives you the right to be so... so arrogant, to hold yourself to a different standard than us?"

Leo frees himself, appalled. The ichor glows and drips. "It's not arrogance!"

"Then what is it?" Donnie snaps. "Self-hatred? Self-pity? Sheer idiocy?"

"It's my job!" Leo finally exclaims, eyes wide and earnest. A powerful visage dripped in gold, tension present every line of his body. Donnie’s throat dries at the sight, eyes ticking over the liquid covering him.

"To protect what's important is my job, Donatello. You and Raph and Mikey - the Hamato clan would be nothing without you three. This family would be nothing without you three. It’s like - it’s like Raph is our earth, our ground, what we stand upon. Mikey is our sun, our happiness. And you are our air, all-encompassing and ever-present. You're needed."

Leo gurgles out a laugh, all distorted in pain and sorrow. The ichor gushes out of his whole face, falling into his eyes and dripping over his nose and lips, fat drops rolling off into his hoodie and blankets. "What the hell do I do, dude? Be the Face-Man? The Face-Man isn't even fucking real, Donnie, it's just a ruse. I'm just a ruse." His eyes, wet with gold and salt, bore into him in a piercing gaze.

"All I have are my stupid swords and my portals, and - what did I used to call it? My rad ninjosity?” He scoffs resentfully. “None of it is real, man, there's nothing here. If there was, I wouldn't have caused the end of the goddamn world, we wouldn't have ever needed that stupid dagger to break the key, no one would have been cursed."

He covers his eyes with his arm, the sobs he's trying to suppress making themselves known in short, staccato hiccups. "You’re right, you know. All I do is get in trouble, mess things up. But I try so fucking hard to stop. I train in the dojo, I work out at night when I can’t sleep – I’m trying to get better. Because if I-I can't even keep you safe, what the hell am I here for?"

Donnie's vision is blurry, his heart breaking messily, as Leo openly cries, hiding himself out of shame. There are words that he should say to his twin, comforting, validating assurances. Yet all Donnie can do is slowly raise his hand to cradle his cheek, right over the mystical wound, around the edges of his stripes. The soft touch makes Leo peer at him, an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but all he can focus on is the drip, drip, drip of the golden liquid onto his palm. 

It feels warm, like real blood, shimmering over his green skin. But it sends a cold shiver through his whole body as it trickles down his arm.

Leo just watches him, as the final dregs of his mask finally fall off, bleed off. Donnie watches the ichor disappear into mystical nothingness, a vague and uncomfortable mixture of horror and relief forming in his chest.

He lifts his gaze, and comes face-to-face with Leo. The real Leo. Laid bare.

Donnie can't help it any longer, he lurches forward, practically pouncing on him as he hugs him in a crushing embrace. Leo doesn't even hesitate, burying himself into the crook of his neck.

Donnie runs a flat, comforting hand over his shell through his blue hoodie, trying to calm down the stuttering breaths. Tears escape from his eyes that he rushes to brush away. Now is not about him.

"Is this what the root problem has been?" He finally asks, quietly. "Is this what's been driving you, this entire time?"

Leo just squeezes him tighter, like he'd rather just fuse and disappear into the embrace. Donnie closes his eyes, understanding the need on a fundamental level, in a way only two twins ever could.

"It just made sense." Leo eventually whispers into the silence as they hold each other. "Jumping for you. It made sense."

Crack. Another fissure in his already-broken heart. Donnie's head falls onto his shoulder. 

Does Leo even mean it like that? Does he know how that statement applies beyond the confines of a random spell by a random witch in the Hidden City?

Jumping for you in front of a curse. Jumping for you in front of a demon. Jumping for you into hell.

Donnie sniffles loudly. "And if it had killed you?"

He'd asked him that once, before. Weeks ago, when it was a quiet night after the worst day of their lives, right here in the med bay. Twins sitting side by side, two stretchers set up right next to each other so they could hold hands as they recovered. When a drug-induced exhaustion had numbed away their pretenses into asking anything that came to mind. 

Shame that the drugs had wiped away any memory of the answer he got.

Donnie wonders vaguely if it had been the same answer he gets now, if Leo had given him as much of an undisguised truth as he does now.

"You would have survived." A hoarse voice near his ear. "You would have hurt for a bit, but you would have survived."

Donnie can't help the upset sob that tears through him at that answer, how it makes Leo startle, and squeeze him even harder.

Because that's the worst part, right? Truth is subjective, completely utterly subjective, as infuriating that is to a scientist. It's not as simple as holding up a book and asking two people sitting on opposite sides if it's red or black. It's holding up a book and asking two people sitting on opposite sides which it deserves to be, red or black. Which is better, which is worse? Which color connotes it as good, bad, noble, unworthy? Depends on the person, right? After all, which one of them is holding the book?

"I'm sorry." Leo whispers, and he’s being honest, Donnie knows it. "I'm so sorry."

It’s a mangled truth, though. "Sorry enough to never do it again?"

Leo doesn't reply. Another tear rolls off Donnie’s face.

"I wouldn't survive." He says. Starting off somewhere, a real, honest truth. No masks, no disguises, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. No subjectivity. 

"If it killed you, if anything killed you," including yourself, Donnie adds silently, knowing this moment is far too tender to say it out loud, "I wouldn't survive. I almost didn't, you know. When... when that happened."

Leo tenses in his arms. "We're not talking about that."

"I am." Donnie taps nervously on his shell. The Krang invasion, as taboo of a topic as it is in their household, almost killed every single one of them, that’s true. But Leo’s sacrifice – it almost destroyed their entire family. "You jumped into the… through the gateway, because you thought that would save us. But you closed the portal on yourself, knowing you were going to die.

"And you did, for me." He admits, the words warped through tears, the confession coming from the depths of his soul. "For five minutes and twenty-six seconds, you, Hamato Leonardo, left me a twinless twin."

One sharp squeeze, strong to make Leo gasp. "Y-you made me mourn you. And I almost didn't survive it, the same way you almost didn't survive that either.

"Do you get that?" He practically begs, way past the point of desperation. "There is no me, no Raph or Mikey or Dad, without you. There is no Hamato without you, Leon."

"You - you would've—"

"I wouldn't." Donnie cuts off his token protest, given to him despite the overwhelming evidence for the contrary. "I wouldn’t. You once said you're nothing without your brothers, right? Your brothers are nothing without you either."

It takes a few seconds, and Donnie holds out for just a bit more, trying to maintain his stance for a bit longer, anything to make Leo get it. This isn’t a problem that can be solved with one heartfelt conversation, he understands that. No matter how much he wishes, this still isn’t a broken gadget in the physical realm that he can fix; Donnie can’t connect the wires in the right places, make the electrical impulses travel through the right circuits, change the way Leo thinks about himself. He still can’t solve Leo. 

But he can say how much he needs him, how much he loves him, over and over again. As many times as it requires him to. 

And eventually, his twin caves, collapsing into him, pressing all his weight on him. Donnie rocks backwards with it, but manages to stay upright. Compensating for Leo, in more than one sense. Two halves of a whole. In perfect symmetry, in equal balance.

He rests a comforting hand over his head, offering nothing but the pressure, taking a page out of Splinter’s book of raising little crying turtles. That seems enough to make Leo gasp out another sob. And another. And a few more. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying." Leo babbles, rubbing his face into Donnie's hoodie, trying to wipe the tears.

"You're exhausted of the burden that's been sitting over your skin for years." Donnie replies slowly. He checks his other palm, the one he'd cradled his face with, feeling the haunting liquid dripping between his fingers. But there’s nothing there, never was; it’s all just plain green skin. 

He sighs, clenching his hand into a tight fist. Stupid mysticism. 

He gently bonks Leo’s head with his. "You don't have to bear it any longer, Leon, not for our sakes, nor yours."

Leo lets out a tiny sound from the back of his throat, a small, vulnerable thing, that punches Donnie in the gut. "I'm sorry."

"For being exhausted?" He asks quietly. "That's not something to be sorry for.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” Leo mumbles. “Just feels like I’m sorry for something, I don’t know what.”

Donnie lets out a breath between his teeth. Not for the first time, he wishes he could go into his twin’s mind and physically beat up all the emotions in there, steal some uranium and cook up a nuclear bomb to blow up every bad thought that crowds his mind. That could solve Leo, if such a thing were possible.

“You did steal my favorite Jolly Ranchers today.” He answers, somewhat deliriously, trying to get rid of the nonsensical image of throwing a cartoon dynamite stick into the dark, evil clouds in Leo’s brain. “Maybe you’re feeling sorry about that.”

That surprises a wet chuckle out of him. “Hey – that’s on you, okay? You keep hogging the watermelon ones.”

“I save the blue raspberry for you, isn’t blue supposed to be your ‘thing’?”

“Oh, like you’d have the grape ones just because they’re purple.”

“I wouldn’t have the grape ones if they were the last thing to eat on planet earth.”

Leo chokes out another laugh, and Donnie can feel the weak smile pressed into his shoulder. It makes him feel lighter, the roiling mess of feelings between them finally slowing down.

"You know," he says wonderingly after a few moments of quiet. "If— if Raph really is the ground. And Mikey is the sun, and I'm the air. Then... then I think you'd be a tree."

Leo sputters into another laugh. "What? A ‘tree’?"

"Yes, a tree." Donnie continues stubbornly, refusing to be embarrassed. "Just – hear me out. You'd be the tree, the thing that connects all of us together. Your roots grow into the ground, that's where you get your nutrients and water from; that's Raph. You draw energy from the rays of the sun to produce glucose; that's Mikey. And you engage in photosynthesis with the air, that's me, by using both the water and the light energy, converting carbon dioxide to oxygen. Breathing life into everyone around you. That's you, my dearest twin."

Leo trembles in his arms, a full-body tremor that seems to overpower any other emotion. It makes him hug him even tighter. "You think so?"

"I promise you." 

“You’re not just saying that because I’m green, like chlorophyll?”

“No, dum-dum, we're all green.” He huffs, fondness undeniably seeping through. "And you should know better than to doubt my genius. I’m smarter than you, after all."

"Yeah." Leo whispers, easily conceding. "You are."

Donnie smiles, a real and genuine thing. Now, that's an honest truth if he's ever heard one.

Eventually, Leo extricates from the embrace, wiping his entire face with the sleeve of his hoodie. Donnie winces slightly, but when it’s pulled away, there’s still no sign of the mystic ichor. 

Leo looks at him, and the only thing dripping from his face is pure tiredness, bloodshot eyes and a watery but authentic smile. A shattered facade.

“But I was right, though, huh?” He still says, in a teasing voice that Donnie rolls his eyes at. “The curse wasn’t that big a deal. Mira just really hated the Face-Man routine.”

“Or she was trying to expose me, as I truly am,” Donnie says, a dramatic sigh injected into the words that makes him grin wider. “A mad scientist that still scorns the inexplicable concept of magic.”

“We probably should’ve explained our Ninpo to her.”

“Oh sure, because the ‘power of family and friendship’ is somehow a better explanation than the tried-and-tested scientific method, he says extremely sarcastically.”

He laughs. “Hey, she let us off with a relatively harmless curse, so cut her some slack, alright? I mean, yeah, the whole 'getting-rid-of-fakeness' schtick was pretty harsh, full points to her on that one. But that was it, right?”

Donnie levels another, serious gaze at him that sobers him right up. “Not exactly.”

“¿Pérdon?”

"Draxum said the spell has a pretty bad side-effect, actually."

"He did?" Leo asks, alarmed. "Like what?"

Donnie grabs his hand and squeezes, hoping to look sympathetic. "Really, really bad constipation."

"...You're kidding."

"I'd stock up on the Miralax, Leo.” He says, appropriately contritely. “You know how bad it can get. Remember Mikey when he ate two party-sized Whole Foods cheese boards?"

"Oh, god," Leo blanches. "You're not kidding."

"Yeah, no I'm not. Sorry, I guess this is the one thing the power of family can't save you from."

Leo pauses, before grabbing a pillow and slamming it on Donnie's face, as he laughs delightedly.

---

Thank you for the amazing artwork! I had to write a little something for it<3

[eskumii]

yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha + darling who's secretly half uchiha [long hcs]

TITLE: " LIKE WATER, LIKE BLOOD " — navi. — general yandere!sasuke hcs.

NOTES: i've been randomly feinin over naruto again and this idea just won't leave me alone :'D don't press me on lore specific stuff i just yap and pretend it's true ok. i accidently posted this b4 it was finished ... if you read that, u didn't.

☆ you're no stranger to the fact that your mother had an affair with an uchiha man a few years before the entire clan was slaughtered like cows. your father had been a high-ranking official in fugaku's inner circle, but you had never learned his name, even when he secretly visited you and your mother on weekends between his missions and clan dealings.

☆ this is not to say, of course, that he was a bad man. he often tried to instill core uchiha values into you (never dishonor the uchiha clan name, always seek to carry on its legacy and strength, etc..) but nothing ever seemed to stick. you were more interested in the little trinkets he would bring you: necklaces, bracelets, hair ribbons, hand fans, and various other accessories that were often branded with the uchiha symbol. none of it was ever worn out in public, though, so you just hung them on your walls instead.

☆ after your father's death, you eventually distanced yourself from the uchiha side of your identity as it had always been steeped in secrecy and the fear of scrutiny from the third hokage/konoha elders/villagers who felt strongly about the nine tails attack. after all, you aren't supposed to exist. you're not sure what your mother was thinking when she got knocked up at such a politically fragile time, when the uchiha clan were still under fire for conspiracy and treason.

☆ at the academy, you intentionally avoid sasuke. you've probably spoken to him a handful of times—many of which were him telling you to get out of his way, or to shut up if you were talking too loud with your friends (your assigned seat was directly behind his, unfortunately).

☆ it isn't until much later after you graduate from the academy and are placed into teams that sasuke somehow finds out you're also an uchiha. whether someone told him or he just... knew, you do not know. at this point, you haven't seen him in months (you're on different teams), so him appearing on the landing outside of your open window is a very startling jumpscare.

☆ he takes one look around your room, which has uchiha merch strung up all over the place, and is immediately pissed at you. all this time there was another surviving member of his clan and he had no clue? and it was you, of all people?

☆ sasuke always thought you were weird and suspicious during your days at the academy. whenever he interacted with you, you would cower from him, almost looking ashamed. you were adept at everything he was and, as much as he used to hate admitting it, you were often his competition when it came to scoring at the top of various skill tests. looking back, it all makes sense: the blood in your veins is special, as uchiha children often are. as he is. and now, instead of callousness, he feels a kindling of pride at your excellence.

☆ it takes no time at all for everything to change between you and sasuke. after he barges his way into your room (you don't how he found out where you live in the first place?!), he forces you to explain why you lied about being an uchiha. you have no choice but to comply after his threatening glares pin you into submission and he refuses to let you past him until you talk.

☆ sasuke really doesn't care that you're a "half uchiha." you descended directly from a member of the uchiha clan so as far as he's concerned, you're his kin through and through. this discovery immediately sparks something primal in sasuke, like a desprate clinging to preserve what has been, and to protect what can be.

☆ you're often dragged away to secluded places by sasuke—the training grounds, usually. you try to fight but sasuke is just stronger than you and you are easily wrestled into defeat; a reoccuring pattern that makes you feel unsafe around him. but despite your growing feelings of contempt towards sasuke, he is brutally relentless in his pursuit of you or, rather, his pursuit of molding you into a proud uchiha who is willing to restore the legacy of his clan with him.

☆ the uchiha boy is a little worried that you lack so many of the values that he himself has been taught by his parents and itachi. you don't know much about the sharingan nor the clan's signature great fireball technique. so he starts there.

☆ let's be honest though: you're not interested in being lectured on the history of the clan by sasuke, but you're not entirely opposed to learning a new jutsu so you allow him to train you for now. whenever you mess up or ask too many questions, he'll sigh in very clear annoyance but bites back any insult as a mercy to you.

☆ you notice how much more patient he is towards you. how he quietly praises you when your little flame grows, how he immediately checks on you when you're winded from using too much chakra. there's a general closeness that never existed before (sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, physically guiding your hands into signs, or poking your forehead when you say or do something he thinks is dumb). it's all strangely... intimate.

☆ the frequency of his visits begin to increase as the days go by, and there were a few times where you would wake up in the middle of the night to see him standing over you. obviously, this scares you, and you have to keep sasuke's sudden intrusions into your bedroom a secret from your mother, so you begrudgingly agree to his strict schedule of meeting at his apartment at least four times a week instead of him breaking into yours.

☆ in the following months, you see a side of sasuke that you're sure no one else has seen. one that isn't carefree, but deeply emotional and reactive, especially when it comes to you. soon enough, he reveals his plan of revenge against itachi to you. you're shocked that he would go to such a length, and the sentiment is not shared by you at all.

☆ before sasuke leaves the village, he of course tries to convince you to come with him. you aren't a fool, though. despite settling into your uchiha heritage at this point, you're no destined avenger. you followed along with sasuke's strange intrusion into your life thus far, but this is where you draw the line. you refuse.

☆ "no? what the hell, [name]? you're an uchiha." he'll spit heatedly, arresting you by the hand when you turn to walk away from him. "your duty now is kill itachi and restore our clan. don't think for a second that you can just run away from this. from me."

☆ and... he's right. one way or another, you find yourself a traitor to konoha for the sake of the blood that binds you to sasuke. what happened to his family, he won't let happen to you. this time, he's the one who'll kill to protect the one he loves, even if you hate him for doing it against your will.

[blu3-ja3]

Chapter 2: We Let It Go

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

The nightclub bouncer job is going well and the regulars have already given Simon a nickname that being Ghost. Because he's got very quiet footsteps for such a large man and he's constantly wearing black. If you aren't paying attention and just see Simon from the of your eye it's like seeing a ghost. He's learned Gary and Kyle's nicknames are Roach and Gaz. And no one questions Simon about his mask or the constant covering of his face. The only problem...

Simon Riley cannot handle his hot as sin roommate... At all. If he didn't know he was gay before John MacTavish would very quickly change that. Simon has been living with Johnny for 3 months, they've been a good three months.

But Johnny is one hell of a tease and Simon Riley is as dense as a brick when it comes to being flirted with. He's also not good with his own emotions so he's having one hell a time figuring out if he likes Johnny or if he just really wants to fuck him and be done. But Simon's starting to think it's more the former than the latter.

The first big tip to that thought is Johnny refusing to let anyone else call him Johnny. Simon has heard patrons trying to call MacTavish; Johnny, only for him to cut them off. At first Simon was worried that Johnny was going to tell him to stop but one night he heard MacTavish talking to Price about he nickname.

"Only Simon can pull it off, he's the only one I let call me Johnny..." Simon hearing those words from MacTavish made some deeply possessive, feral part of him purr with satisfaction. A small voice keeps telling him to make Johnny his, forever and always.

There's so much about John MacTavish that Simon finds irresistible, that makes his heart jump and his soul beg to make Johnny his.

MacTavish's eyes are the first one that comes to Simon's mind. The heat Simon feels every time Johnny stares at him makes his heart speed up. There's such a critical curiosity to them, like Simon holds the answers to every question MacTavish has. And when his dark brown eyes meet Johnny's endless blue eyes, Simon feels like he's been set adrift in the endless ocean.

Those eyes paired with Johnny's smile makes Simon's heart stop beating. It's like Simon is staring into the sun and he's all too happy to go blind if it means he can see Johnny smile just one more time. And when Simon gets that wolfish smile from Johnny it does something to Simon that makes him go mad with an ache that Simon has no idea is called lust. He's experienced wanting someone but this was a million wants wrapped together and set a flame.

Another part of Johnny that makes Simon ache like that is the man's voice. He's very talkative which Simon miraculously finds endearing, no what sets that ache aflame is when Johnny stretches out. When the man raises his arms above his and reaches up, the moans and groans that fall from Johnny's lips are heavenly. Then he does it in public around his friends and Kyle laughs at Simon, the shock that must have been visible in his eyes and on his brows. Only for Kyle to inform Simon that those are very common and normal noises for MacTavish. That small possessive voice in Simon's head isn't happy about that little fact.

But it's quieted by the fact that no one else comes home to Johnny after a long day. The satisfaction Simon feels knowing he's the only one who gets to see Johnny sprawled out over the couch is immense. Seeing him laid out, legs spread, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other covering his eyes is like Simon staring at fine art. Simon is more than happy to give up the couch for a bit if it means seeing such fine artistry.

And Johnny truly is the perfect muse, Simon has seen the man shirtless a great many times due to Johnny working out shirtless in his room. The first time will forever be engraved into Simon's mind, he walks into the kitchen to do something he's immediately forgotten about as he watched Johnny's back as he does pull ups in the frame of his door. Watching the construction and release of MacTavish's muscle as he moves felt almost pornographic to Simon. It took everything he had not to do filthy things to Johnny against the door frame.

But the memory that still haunts Simon, the one that reappears into his mind at some of the worst possible times, is when Simon first touched himself to the thought of Johnny. It had been a very long day for both of them, Johnny and Gary had to work hard at the nightclub bar. There was a huge bachelorette party that took a particular liking towards Simon and Johnny that night and they milked that for all its worth. But that took a toll on them so they were exhausted.

Simon was sat on the couch watching something he doesn't remember when the bathroom door opened. Steam clouds billowed out and perfectly framed the sight before Simon.

Johnny, still toweling off his hair, almost completely naked aside from a small towel hugging his hips. Simon's eyes immediately catch on the two silver nipple piercings and matching belly button piercing. Simon figured Johnny had more piercings beyond his ears and nose but seeing them is very different than thinking about them.

And then Simon's eyes caught the single water droplet that started to slip down Johnny's body. It started at his collarbone going down his chest, down his stomach and hip only to slip into the V of the man's navel before disappearing into the towel. Simon slowly raked his vision back up towards Johnny's face only to see a deep shade of pink across his cheeks and ears. Simon met Johnny's eyes for the briefs of moments before they darted down to his lips.

"Sorry... I, uh, completely forgot you lived here too..."

"Bloody Hell" was the only thing Simon's brain supplied him before he got up and left for his room. He waited until he heard Johnny's door closed before slipping out and into the shower. He took longer than usual that night to shower.

It took a few days before Simon could look at Johnny in the face without his mind supplying him with images of Johnny in a towel.

But Simon Riley was never very good at listening to his emotions and he's even worse at picking up on hints and subtle flirting.

[ladiesandwitches]

@hereforonce

"Sorry," Dana immediately apologised, worried the frown, the sigh, as she opened the door might be seen as disappointment, that she didn't want to see her brother on her doorstep. "I was just, uh," she sighed again, sounding tired. "I was expecting someone else."

Without another word she immediately stepped aside, silently inviting Charlie in. Questions about why he was here, what any of this was about, didn't belong outside her front door.

"Is everything alright?" she asked as she closed the door after him, concern in her blue eyes as she turned to look at her brother. "It's just..." she gestured to the clock on the wall behind him, "it's almost midnight. Not exactly time for a social call." Concern became worry. "Has something happened?"

[lovealwayssay]

I just did some math and, if Cas is as old as the earth, his 12 years with Dean is equivalent to like 0.08 seconds in a human lifespan. That’s less than 1/10th of a second, shorter than the blink of an eye. He knew Dean for such a short amount of time compared to his entire existence and it was enough to fundamentally change everything about Cas and how he sees the world. That’s absolutely insane to me.

[caeslxys]

I’ve mentioned this elsewhere but it feels relevant again in light of the most recent episode. Something that’s really fascinating to me about Orym’s grief in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief is that his is the youngest/most fresh and because of that tends to be the most volatile when it is triggered (aside from FCG, who was two and obviously The Most volatile when triggered.)

As in: prior to the attack on Zephrah, Orym was leading a normal, happy, casual life! with family who loved him and still do! Grief was something that was inflicted upon him via Ludinus’ machinations, whereas with characters like Imogen or Ashton, grief has been the background tapestry of their entire lives. And I think that shows in how the rest of them are largely able to, if not see past completely (Imogen/Laudna/Chetney) then at least temper/direct their vitriol or grief (Ashton/Fearne/Chetney again) to where it is most effective. (There is a glaring reason, for example, that Imogen scolded Orym for the way he reacted to Liliana and not Ashton. Because Ashton’s anger was directed in a way that was ultimately protective of Imogen—most effective—and Orym’s was founded solely in his personal grief.)

He wants Imogen to have her mom and he wants Lilliana to be salvageable for Imogen because he loves Imogen. But his love for the people in his present actively and consistently tend to conflict with the love he has for the people in his past. They are in a constant battle and Orym—he cannot fathom losing either of them.

(Or, to that point, recognize that allowing empathy to take root in him for the enemy isn't losing one of them.)

It is deeply poignant, then, that Orym’s grief is symbolized by both a sword and shield. It is something he wields as a blade when he feels his philosophy being threatened by certain conversational threads (as he believes it is one of the only things he has left of Will and Derrig, and is therefore desperately clinging onto with both bloody hands even if it makes him, occasionally, a hypocrite), but also something he can use in defense of the people he presently loves—if that provocative, blade-grief side of him does not push them—or himself—away first.

(it won’t—he is as loved by the hells as he loves them. he just needs to—as laudna so beautifully said—say and hear it more often.)

[mixmangosmangoverse]

Hello I'm randomly thinking about Healin Good PreCure for the first time in years and looking back at how wildly people misunderstood the point and expected every other season to follow a plot point that's very specific to it

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

every time i remember "ingo is an ascian/ancient who literally forgot everything about that" it still kills me. so much staying power in the idea of the protagonists rocking up to ishgard having the worst day of their lives and there's a fucking ASCIAN just chilling waiting for them and they're like fucking dammit now we have to deal with THIS. and then he's not. like he's literally just chilling. he is so very much just some guy. and they're like why the fuck are you dressed like an evil wizard then and he's like they're comfy robes :(

[seo-m-e]

just had the most pleasant customer service call of my life trying to, once again, deal with the guy who used to have my phone number

[catboybiologist]

The year is 2030.

At the Cincinnati stop of her "world tour", Taylor Swift ends her set. As she walks off the stage, she leans into a nearby mic and says "oh by the way, I'm lesbian".

She's still milking a public relationship with a man named Chett Whitesman, so this is met with a combination of cheers and confusion. Immediately, the media mobilizes. They have to intercept her before she gets onto her private jet, and ambush her for an interview. Luckily, this has become much easier these days. Since the release of her 2027 album, "The Carbon Emissions of my Heart", T Swizzle has performed a ritual sacrifice of an endangered species on live camera every time she boards her jet, a #girlboss way of saying that her emotional pain can only be healed by the tortured screams of drowning polar bears.

(Since this practice started, a devoted faction of Swifties have started a carbon negative algae farming commune, with the express intent of negating taytay sweezie's contributions to climate change. Apparently "her tortured soul deserves to pollute without guilt". They haven't even come close to their goals.)

Taytor Twift is intercepted after this ritual, as she's walking up the steps of her plane. When asked what the lesbian statement was about, she nonchalantly says "oh, I thought it was clear that was a joke. Anyways, G T G!" , before biting into the still beating heart of an emperor penguin.

During her flight, discourse on the newly renamed twitter-X-ElonIsExtremelyVirile Corp goes nuclear like it never has been before.

There's a camp of swifties thoroughly convinced that her relationship with Chett is all a beard so that she can still keep touring in the New Christian Republic of Florida, and the interview at the plane was deepfaked.

A different camp of Swifties feels insulted and betrayed that she would be anything less than a paragon of allyship. To them, this is the worst slight the queer community has ever experienced.

A third camp of Swifties insists that she *is* dating Chett, and is also a lesbian. They get insulted that anyone would police Taylor's labels. Comparisons to the Boulder, Colorado shooter are made.

A group of non Swifties tries to point out that everyone is fucking insane and that 'ole taytay regularly tear gases pride rallies to make way for her promenade to stadium venues, and who the fuck cares about this shit and point out that what a billionaire celebrity does for five minutes of PR is not worth your attention or discourse, nor does it warrant harassing other people for the labels *they* use, and isn't it really fucked up that Taylor is making a joke of how people describe their identities? They are promptly doxxed, harassed, and banned.

Bi lesbian discourse is off the charts. Nothing Taylor said has anything to do with it, but it happens anyways.

A lone transsexual who actually goes outside once in a while tweets "hey guys isn't it kinda fucked up that 2.4 billion people have been displaced by mega storms this year that her jet contributes to and is also specifically designed to fly over" and is promptly doxxed and harassed off the platform.

After an exhausting 9 minute plane ride, Tailing Swiffer lands in Columbus for the next performance of her world tour. She unveils a new single that contains the line "ride my horse after dumping him, stepping up onto my SAD dle".

All is forgotten. All is quiet. The Swifties continue as usual, moving on to the next discourse about these lyrics.

[nanaslutt]

not so sneaky sex

ʚ synopsis: gojo and reader have sex while geto sleeps in the same bed

ʚ cont: fem reader, 4th year satosugu (19), the one bed troupe, sneaky not so sneaky fucking, dirty talk, exhibitionism?

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You held your breath as your eyes locked on Suguru's relaxed sleeping face, your eyes fluttering and your breath catching each time Satoru plunged his cock inside you. You were all so exhausted after your joint mission, that you insisted on stopping at a hotel for the night in a town none of you were familiar with. Of course, they only had one room with one bed. Luckily, the bed could accommodate two large men and yourself, so there was still a good bit of distance away from Suguru and yourself, but not nearly as much as there should've been when his best friend had his cock inside you.

Satoru held the underside of your knee up for better access to your cunt, making the blanket tent with your leg to accommodate the movement. His hand was firmly placed over your mouth to keep any of your whines and whimpers at bay, but even then it was hard to keep quiet when the tip of his cock was rubbing your g-spot raw. "you feel so good," Satoru whispered against the shell of your ear, his tongue finding your earlobe to bring to his lips before he bit down on it hard enough to make you wince.

"Did you like that? You just got so tight," Satoru laughed breathlessly, his cock throbbing with each thrust as he slowly fucked it in and out of you. "Mmmm," You tried to respond, but he refused to move his hand from your mouth as he kept fucking you. "Shhh… you don't have to answer, I already know you liked it," Satoru responded cockily, moving his lips down to your neck where he sucked his soft lips against your skin.

You tilted your head back against him, allowing him more access as his thrusts got rougher, the bed starting to shake with his movements—Suguru shaking with it. You watched Suguru's beautiful hair shake and fall off his shoulder onto his solid chest that was bare from the lack of clothes he had on. It turns out that sharing a bed with two other people can get pretty hot.

You gripped his wrist harshly at the change of pace, your whimpers slipping past the cover of his hand, seeming so loud in the otherwise silent motel room. "Rub your clit for me baby, my hands are a bit full," Satoru instructed against your neck, his breaths coming quicker as your cunt worked hard to milk him for all he was worth. "Hurry," He whispered when you didn't immediately respond. "Suguru isn't exactly the heaviest sleeper and-" He cut himself off with a loud groan when you reached down and started rubbing your clit in fast circles, your pussy squeezing him tighter than before.

"That's it pretty, make yourself cum all over my cock while you look at Suguru." He laughed through a groan as his pace picked up again. It was a miracle Suguru wasn't awake already. If not for the bed shaking then the loud squelching from where the two of you were connected or the not-so-subtle sounds that were slipping from your lips and Satoru's throat. Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck, a whine vibrating against your skin just as you felt his pace get sloppy.

"Are you close?" He whispered, clearly on the verge of falling off himself. "Please tell me your close baby, I don't wanna cum without you but fuck," He groaned, biting into your shoulder and making you release a too-loud moan before he released you again, "You're so wet, it feels so good." You nodded quickly, trying to respond from behind his hand but the sound was muffled.

"Yeah? You gonna cum?" Gojo asked, his voice needy and strained with the effort it took not to groan the way he wanted. You nodded in response, your fingers rubbing quickly over your clit, making that sensation of your orgasm wind itself tighter and tighter. "Fuck, oh fuck fuck-" Gojo groaned, his cock now spearing into your cunt with no regard for the man sleeping just in front of you.

Moans were being torn from your throat as you were pushed over the edge by the force of his thrusting. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let your orgasm flood through your body, your leg shaking and trembling in Satoru's hold while he held it up as he continued to fuck you through your high. "I'm cumming, take my cum p-pretty," Gojo whined, biting your neck as he stilled against your ass, his cock throbbing inside you as he fucked you full of his cum.

You could feel his abs clench and twitch behind you as he rolled his hips in a circle against your ass, his cock massaging your oversensitive walls as he let your cunt milk him dry. His body finally went slack against yours just as he placed your leg back down, keeping himself buried inside you. Your eyes were still shut as you caught your breath, your head leaned back against him.

The hand that was covering your mouth gripped your chin and turned you to face him as he met your lips with his own in a lazy, slow kiss while the two of you basked in the aftershocks, his cock still twitching inside you.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you jolt out of Satoru's hold, your head snapping back to the man in front of you. Satoru didn't seem alarmed in the slightest, he just laughed as he met Suguru's eyes from behind your body. "Are the two of you going to let me get some rest now, or were you planning to invite me for round two?"