#and then i heard that BELT and i was like RIGHT

[ownsariver]

I remember the first days of this latest part of the zios' pinkwashed genocide of the Palestinians, and the pleas from the queer Palestinians trapped in Gaza not to fall for the propaganda. They were very specific in that it is the Occupation that is exploiting, oppressing, and killing them. They told us about a queer life in Palestine, about night clubs and queer love. Help us live, they said, and we will work on the next level of human rights afterward. Now they are silent.

If you really care about queer people, imagine the damage Israel's rampage has done to the Muslim queers who live in conservative societies. If the American bible belt had been slaughtered by men wearing women's lingerie while waving pride flags, could you even imagine the pure unadulterated loathing that would unleash? The Palestinian doctors and men are raped - sodomized - to death systematically as a weapon of war, for crying out loud! The whole Arab world heard the Israeli football hooligans singing about how they would rape them!

If you care about all queer people, even the Muslim ones, then you have a moral responsibility for standing up and screaming that this is not queerness. This is war crimes and the use of one oppressed people against another! This is not what Pride stands for! If for nothing else, then scream for the Muslim queers silently hating themselves for being 'like them.'

In a heartwarming display of solidarity, the Trans community in Venezuela raises funds to their Gazan comrade @dr-anas96 who is currently trapped in Gaza 🇻🇪🇵🇸🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

Anas had been studying medicine in Venezuela when he briefly visited his home in Gaza in 2023. The war broke out, and you know the rest.

A staunch supporter of the LGBTQ+ community himself, he reached out to his friends in Venezuela to thank them for not misportraying Palestinians as a bigoted people, and shared the stories of some of the martyrs with them.

During an event celebrating Trans pride, they decided to speak about Anas, and set up a beautiful memorial for the martyrs Anas spoke about.

There are those who try to break the bonds between the oppressed. I suspect there will be many who will try to respond to this, arguing that these causes are incompatible.

There are others like Anas who recognize the unbreakable strength in unity, compassion and acceptance.

Anas is currently very ill. My heart aches with every update from him. Sometimes he tells me he feels these days are his last.

Please don't give up on Anas.

VETTER HERE AT GAZA-EVACUATION-FUNDS

[7seas-of-ryy]

Crestfallen - Part 2

Author’s Note: I hope everyone has a great New Years!!

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 2 Summary: Gaslighting and harming patients is not what a healer is supposed to do!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

Waking up, your entire body felt like it was on fire. You couldn't remember what happened so you did what Az and Cass had trained you to do. Taking a deep breath, you assessed your surroundings. You were laying in someone's room, Azriel's room. That's a relief. One other thing you notice was you were naked and wrapped in ice cold, wet rags.

Hearing footsteps approaching, you closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep still.

"Azzy, you don't have to have her sleep in your bed. I can keep her down in the recovery room of my shop." Clara's sickly sweet voice broke the silence.

Azzy?? She has a nickname for him? She's barely known him. All these thoughts kept running through your head while you waited for his response.

"No, she's staying here. It's the least I can do for her. I should've checked on her sooner, I was just so caught up in my work that I didn't realize no one had seen or heard from her for two days." Azriel responded.

"Stop beating yourself up. She's a big girl and can handle herself. Plus, you're such an important piece in the Night Court, you don't need to be worrying so much about her." She told him.

Before she could keep going, you made it known you were awake by softly clearing your throat.

Az ran to your side and kneeled down next to you, grabbing your hand.

"You're awake! I was so worried. You've had a terrible fever so Clara wrapped you in these rags to cool you down. That cut on your back looked really bad too, why didn't you let Clara help you the other night?" Azriel spoke softly to you, and by the looks of it he hadn't been sleeping much.

"What? Clara told me-" You choked out but your throat felt so dry it was hard to talk.

"Don't you remember? I offered you the salve and wrap for your cut, told you it looked infected? You told me you just wanted to sleep it off. I didn't think that would be good but I can't force anyone to get better especially if they don't want to." She talked down to you like you were a child.

You felt like you were going crazy. Maybe Clara was right, maybe in your exhaustion you refused help and ended up getting worse. But you could've sworn she told you everything was fine.

"Water." it was all you could choke out.

"I'll get it for you." Clara offered but you didn't trust her. Especially with your mind as foggy as it was right now.

"No!" You shouted, well tried to shout.

"Ok, ok, calm down. I can get it for you, would that be ok?" Azriel asked as he gently pushed the hair out of your face.

You nodded your head and he got up to get it for you. Once he was gone, Clara started fumbling around in her bag and pulled out a powder.

She walked over to you, opening the substance and put a little bit of it in the cap.

"Wha-?" You started to say as she blew the capful of powder straight into your face.

The most intense pain took over your body. It was like your flesh was being torn from your bones. Your body writhed in agony and you were screaming out in pain. The shadowsinger came running in the room straight to you.

"What happened? Help her!" His voice was booming.

"I don't know, she was fine then all of the sudden this happened. I think I have something that can fix her!" She sounded panicked and worried for you.

Pulled a liquid out of her bag, she looked pained towards Az like she didn't want to give it to you.

"What're you doing? Hurry!!" He shouted.

"This is going to hurt her a lot, I need you to hold her down." Clara told Az.

He quickly grabbed his belt off and slipped it in your mouth so you could bite down on it and held your arms down.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered to you, "She's gonna help you, it'll be over soon."

Clara grabbed a dagger and cut down your side. She grabbed the liquid and dropped it into the cut. However bad you thought the pain was, was nothing compared to this. You thought you were going to die, the last thing you saw was Azriel' hazel eyes before passing out once again.

"She needs some time for that to kick in. Her cut must've been worse than I thought. I needed to treat the infection, the liquid I poured into the cut will do that and it will work faster the way I did it." Clara told the spymaster, walking over to him and rubbing his shoulders.

----

The next time you woke up, Az was sitting on the ground with his back against the bed. You didn't see Clara anywhere so relief instantly flooded your mind.

Sensing the change in your breathing, Azriel's head shot up and he stood up to see you.

"Hey, how are you doing?" He whispered.

"Where's Clara?" You asked, partly out of fear.

"Why? Do you need her? I can call for her-" He started

"NO" You immediately shut him down, "Please keep her away from me. I'm sick because of her!"

Azriel looked at you as if you grew a second head.

"You have to listen to me. She has been horrible to me since the second she met me..." You were pleading with him.

"Stop." He whispered but you kept going, speaking over him.

"She didn't even assess me the other night, which is why my cut is infected and then she blew some powder in my face which caused everything earlier. She is purposefully making me sick." You were rambling, trying to get him to understand.

"Enough." Azriel spoke in a stern voice, "Listen, I don't know if it's because of everything you're going through but Clara is the only reason you aren't in agony right now. You cannot pin something like this on her. She has been very essential these past 2 weeks and she is extremely kind. There is no way she could possibly do something like that."

Those words were like a punch to your gut. How could he not believe you? You've been best friends for over 75 years, known each other for a century. This is the male that you were in love with, siding with Clara.

"You don't believe me." You whispered, feeling a tear slide down your cheek.

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying you had a long, tough first solo mission and I think it's taking it's toll on you. Your mind might be playing tricks." He tried to make it better but the look he gave you was full of pity.

"Please leave now." You mumbled and turned your head away from him.

Without saying another word, you felt his shadows settle over you and as quick as they were there, they left along with their master.

------

A few days have past now with you showing no signs of improvement. You haven't gotten worse but you definitely haven't gotten better.

Mor and Nesta visited you quite a bit, Nesta even read to you every night. You asked Rhys to have Azriel stay away and even though he thought that would be counterproductive, he respected your wishes.

For 75 years, you have been in love with the Spymaster. Of course, you never told him out of fear of rejection but also because you knew he would never feel the same and it would ruin your friendship. You knew the feelings were unrequited when he didn't believe you about Clara.

It felt deeper than him not believing you, in a way it felt as if he chose her over you and that hurt far worse than any of the physical pain you went through.

As you were deep in thought, Nesta and Mor both came into your room. Well, Azriel's room. You were still too weak to move anywhere else.

"Hey, you're awake!" Mor greeted you with a smile.

"I brought a new book for us to start, if you are up for it." Nesta added.

She was always kind to you because you were there for her with everything she went through. Nesta was grateful for your unrelenting friendship and you were happy to have her as a friend.

Right as you were about to respond to Nesta, you felt the cut on your back heating up. Searing pain started shooting through your body and you thought you saw tendrils of light swirling around you. Confused and in agony, you threw your head back.

"Get Clara." Mor told Nesta as she tried to help you.

You were too weak to tell her no, the light seemed to be getting brighter. A high pitched squeal was getting louder. Suddenly, your body was being lifted in the air by the beams of light but it was as if you were paralyzed.

Clara winnowed into the room, her eyes going wide as she witnessed what was happening to you.

The noise was so loud that Nesta, Mor, and Clara were all covering their ears. Your body was convulsing, the light becoming so bright you thought you were going to explode.

"DO SOMETHING!" Mor screamed over all of the noise.

The fear in Clara's eyes was evident and she stood there not moving.

"..uh...I...I didn't do this one! I don't know how to fix it! I'll see if Madja is close by." She stated and winnowed away.

Nesta's head snapped to Clara but she was already gone. Mor ran to you but there was nothing she could do. Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian all ran into the room to see what was happening but there was nothing they could do either.

"What happened?!" Az shouted but no one responded.

A few moments passed before Clara winnowed back into the room, this time with Madja, who calmly made her way to you and hovered her hands over your form. She started mumbling some words and your body slowly laid back down on the bed.

The beams of light slowly went away and you weren't screaming in pain anymore.

"All of you. Out now. I need space to work. You need to go too, Clara." Madja spoke without looking up, "Except you, High Lord, I might need you."

Cassian, Mor, Clara, and Nesta started to get out and Azriel stayed, he couldn't leave you. Cassian grabbed him and forced him out as they all made their way down to the living area.

They all stood worrying about you, the Spymaster's shadows swirling like mad when Nesta broke the silence.

"Hey Clara...what did you mean when you said "You didn't do this one" earlier?" She spoke, her eyes narrowing on the female.

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @acourtofbatboydreams @bravo-delta-eccho

[little-diable]

Bloody and needy - Dean Winchester (smut)

It only felt right to use this Dean story as my first fic in 2025. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. Xxx

Summary: The reader has been plagued by dreams of Dean but when a hunt leaves her bloody and freezing, Dean is set on taking care of her.

Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected piv, friends to lovers, blood

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.7k words)

Her heart beat faster with every passing moment, heavy breaths sucked into her aching lungs that tried to hold onto the air as if she was about to drown. And perhaps she was - drowning in everything he was, consuming every part of her body and soul like the icy ocean set on calling her home.

“Look at me, baby.” Dean’s hand found its way up her body to rest on her throat, not tight enough to squeeze but enough to draw a soft gasp from her swollen lips. His green eyes had a darker touch to them, staring down at her with something possessive swimming in his pupils. Slowly, his thumb began to move, touching her soft skin until he found her parted lips.

(Y/n) could only whisper his name, getting lost in his eyes as he pushed his thumb past her lips. She instantly wrapped her lips around his finger, sucking on it to make a groan claw its way out of Dean. Sparks shot down her spine, leaving her trembling while her shaking fingers found his belt loops to impatiently tug him even closer.

A storm was brewing inside of her, her boat would sink, the crew would drown, only her aching need for him would survive.

“(Y/n)? Are you even listening?” His raspy voice ripped her out of her thoughts, forcing her to blink a few times to shake off her memories - memories of an all-too-vivid dream she had been ripped from hours ago. Dean was staring at her, his eyes flickering between the road and her every few seconds.

“Sorry, I’m just tired. What were you saying?” Dean began speaking again, telling her about his plan for their hunt, knowing it would most likely spiral into a bloody mess. But (y/n) was too far gone once again, caught up in the memory of yet another dream that had found her days ago.

“Fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes, baby. I bet you’re dripping just from sucking my cock, huh?” Dean’s words had an almost condescending touch to them, making her shudder while humming around his cock. Tears dripped from her glassy eyes, salty like the waves of the ocean clashing against the uneasy raft she was clinging to.

“I could stay like this for days, that mouth of yours drives me crazy.”

A small groan left (y/n), fingers rubbing her tired eyes. She needed to get rid of these thoughts about Dean, knowing she was close to losing her last shred of sanity.

…

In retrospect she should have listened to Dean, should have paid his warnings some attention. And now as both were driving back to their motel, covered in blood, (y/n) couldn’t help but curse herself. No words were shared between them, only Baby’s gentle hum could be heard and the whimpers she let go of every now and then.

“We’ll be at the motel soon, sweetheart.” Dean mumbled his words, trying to keep his voice calm even though he was still riled up from their gruesome hunt. His hand found her knee, softly squeezing for a moment to ground her.

But (y/n) kept quiet, she was too focused on the way her body was freezing, fighting against the cold taking up her system. She had to hold onto Dean as he guided her into their room, couldn’t let go of him as they found their way to the bathroom, needed to rely on him to undress.

Even though she was a trembling mess, (y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to Dean’s face. Blood was sticking to his freckled cheeks and nose, making him appear even sharper and more focused. She felt his hands on her body, peeling her clothes from her frame one by one until only her panties and bra were left.

“Dean,” his name rolled off her tongue like a prayer she knew by heart. A sound so comforting it could soothe his every pain. “Don’t let go, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, swallowing any words that were close to leaving him before he stepped out of his clothes. Dark green eyes wandered up and down her now naked frame as (y/n) stepped into the shower, moaning at the feeling of the hot water cascading down her back.

“I got you, sweetheart. I’ll never let go, I promise.” Dean whispered the words into her ear, front pressed against her wet back. She only hummed, hands finding his forearms to prove to herself that he was actually there with her, keeping her warm.

“Talk to me, what do you need?” (Y/n) needed a few moments, pondering over the question. Dean’s hands moved slowly, exploring their newfound territory with soft touches. He was sure that he could count every single goosebump covering her skin, guiding his path up her chest like a lighthouse set on saving yet another lonely ship.

“Your touch, you, whatever you can give to me, Dean.” He didn’t reply, at least not with words. Dean cupped both her breasts, pressing himself further against her with a heavy groan. He kneaded her flesh, hoping that he could forever remember the feeling while (y/n)’s head rolled back against his chest, eyes fluttering close. Whatever he wanted to do to her, she’d take it all, finding a home in his arms.

“My pretty girl, I should have known that this is what you need right now, huh?” Almost reluctantly his hands let go of her, moving down her sides to her heat. (Y/n) was aching for him, folds already covered in her arousal - all because of some simple touches.

Dean pressed his calloused fingertips against her pulsing bundle, making a moan claw out of her. Her teeth were buried in her lower lip, close to drawing blood similar to the one that had been washed down the drain moments ago, reminders of another cruel evening tying the two closer together.

“Fuck, you’re dripping for my touch.” No warning was spoken as he pushed two of his fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls. Her hand shot out to find the cold tiles, pressed against the wall to balance her trembling frame. Too many sensations were clashing through her, the feeling of his fingers fucking her, the feeling of his hardening cock pressing against her behind, the feeling of her racing heart pounding in her chest. She was his as much as he was hers, two lonely hearts finally finding one another.

He built up the speed of his movements, fucking her faster to draw the sweetest sounds out of her. Dean was high on (y/n), on the feeling of her body falling prisoner to his touch, forever claimed by it. (Y/n)’s orgasm was building up faster than she had anticipated, desperate to let go with his name bleeding from her tongue, something Dean clearly seemed to pick up on.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby. I want to feel you clenching around my cock.” He pulled his fingers away, turning (y/n) towards him to press his lips against hers. Their lips moved in sync, perfectly fitting together, moments of distraction Dean used to press her against the wall, allowing the water to keep teasing his muscular back.

His right hand picked her leg up, fingertips pressing into her thigh while she reached for his twitching cock. The moan Dean let go of was almost animalistic, loud enough to reverberate through the bathroom - just like a cry for help late at night, a sound only the sirens would pick up on, crawling from the sea to eat a sailor’s heart.

Their lips broke apart for a second, inhaling heavy breaths to brace themselves for the upcoming moments. Dean’s eyes found hers as he pushed into her, groaning at the feeling of her walls fluttering around his cock. For a moment, he held still, relishing in the new sensation, all while she tried to keep herself focused. He felt better than anything she had ever felt before, making her tremble against him - no longer from the heat but from his touch.

“Fuck me, Dean, please.” His hips instantly followed her call, pushing in and out of her to fuck her against the wall. She bared her neck to his wandering lips, quivering whenever he sucked on a spot that made her lose her balance. Dean had a tight grasp on her, and even though he’d never let her fall, she couldn’t stop herself from clawing her nails into his skin, marking him up in her own way.

The shower swallowed most sounds the two made, the snapping of his hips against hers, the moans and groans, even the praises he spoke. But (y/n) heard them all too clearly, praying that she’d never forget them.

“You feel so good, like you were made for me, baby.” Heat crawled up her spine, set on finding its way to her cheeks - a heat so biting not even the shower managed to tame the inferno.

Only his name could leave her, no further words but the only sound she wanted to remember until her very last day. Her body guided her closer to her high, fingers pressed against her pulsing bundle to give herself the last needed push. (Y/n) shook against Dean, eyes squeezed shut, forehead falling against his chest.

Dean kept fucking her through her high, pulling out seconds before he lost his grip. He came with a heavy groan, painting her stomach white with his release, letting it wash down the drain seconds later.

Both were heavily panting, searching for the right words that were swallowed the second he kissed her again, and again, “I’ll always be there for you, sweetheart. No matter what, no matter when, you’re mine.”

[legalmente-loca]

Heyy girlie pop!

Soo idk if you are still taking requests from the 25 prompts..

If you are, may i pls suggest 19 with dean winchester?

Thankss

'Course i'm still taking requests! Send me as many as you want.

Prompts: “This is not some cheap porn, dude.”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

You were washing Baby and were wearing a button-down shirt tied in a knot over your stomach and a pair of jean shorts. You hadn't managed to not end up soaked as you washed the car, getting your clothes and hair wet, clothes sticking to your body.

You were sponging the hood when you heard Dean behind you.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack or what?”

You turned to look at him in surprise and put a hand to your chest.

“Why are you so quiet?” You sighed and ran a soaked hand over your already wet forehead.

“And why do you have to be so hot, sweetheart?” He asked as he looked you up and down and approached you.

“Dean, no.”

“I haven't done anything.” He licked his lips, his mind already imagining tearing your clothes off with ease and feeling your warmth envelop him.

“I know your mind well enough, I know how you think.”

He snorted and placed his hands on your hips.

“You don't know how I think.”

“Your mind thinks like it's all a porn video.”

He raised both eyebrows and pursed his lips.

“No… No, not at all…” He murmured.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. Yes, you knew him too well.

“This is not some cheap porn, dude.”

“Hey, hey, I know, baby… I know…” He adjusted his jacket and shrugged. “Although… We could make it one.”

Quickly, he grabbed your hips and flipped you over, then placed you face down against the hood. You gasped, your hands getting even wetter and the water and soap soaking through your shirt and bra.

“This is starting to look more and more like a porn video.” He muttered as he brushed a strand of hair from the side of your face. “You’ll be the mechanic’s assistant.” You heard him take off his belt. “And right now… Your mechanic will give you your pay.” He whispered in your ear.

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[vainilladollie]

ridin’

pairing ; rapper!chris x newsinger!reader

summary ; basically a quickie inside a backstage bathroom , before a sound check! idek. lol i was so sleepy while writing this summary.

warning(s) ; smut. mdni. not use of protection don’t DO THIS. p in v. ass spank. hair pulling. praise cuz im a whore for chris!!!! LISTEN THE SONG ITS A TOTAL BANGER.

this is for ale, ilysm thanks for all mwah #minipizzas @sturnslutz

“you look like hell tonight, ma,” chris let out a hiss as your skirt fell to the floor, forming a puddle at your feet, his right hand slapping one of your ass cheeks, grunting as he did so, his eyes connecting with yours through the mirror, his fingers slowly pulling down your panties, drawing attention to the small wet patch on them, but still doing so without breaking eye contact. “gotta look you through a mirror more often, huh?”

he told you with a smirk, he got what he wanted as usual. immediately your hands went to the edge of the counter, biting your soft lips a little in anticipation as you heard chris's hands unbuckle his belt, and you felt another slap against your ass, letting out a muffled moan. "chris!"

chris chuckles, his hand still resting on your ass. “don't act shocked, mama, y'know what ya be doin' t'me,” he mutters in a low, raspy voice, grunting as he strokes himself a couple of times, his eyes roaming up and down your back before lining up with your entrance. “teasin' me all day, walkin' around in these short little skirts ya wear all the time, b’fore long i'm gonna lose my mind, ma.”

“ohmygod, chris!” a high moan escaped your lips, your eyes closed as he pressed against your back, his hand on your hip. with one hard thrust, chris buried himself deep inside your tight heat, groaning at the sensation. chris let out a low growl, his hips rocking against hers. "yeah, that's it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, you let out a choked gasp as the familiar tune blared through the speakers in the place, they were probably already looking for them, but Chris didn't care. “lemme' hear those pretty sounds”

"feels so so good!" you moan, clutching to the counter as chris grits his teeth, his pace quickening. “yeah? ya like that, baby?” he murmurs, his eyes locked with hers, the room filled with the sound of skin against skin. “knew ya would, s'why ya keep torturin' me all the time,”his hand moved down to your clit, chris's thumb rubbing the sensitive nodule in tight circles as he continued to thrust inside you. your hips swayed back and forth, mascara running down your bambie eyes.

chris moans, his hand grabbing her ass again as he continues to move his hips, slapping it shamelessly. “yeah, i know baby, y’love it,” he mumbles, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as you babble incoherently. “got you all worked up”

“chris... ‘m close,” you say softly and he moans, “can feel how tight ya are around me, baby. ya been wantin’ this all day, huh?” with a growl, he moves his hands from her hips and hair, pulling them as his other hand rubs your sensitive nub, while the knot in your lower abdomen begins to beg for release, he rubs your clit faster, his husky voice murmuring in your ear, your walls clenching with need.

your hair a mess, traces of eyelashes across your cheeks as you breathe heavily. close to climax for both of you. chris stops mid-motion, his breathing ragged and heavy as he looks at the door as someone knocks, asking for both of you.

“gotta be shittin’ me,” he mutters under his breath, his head dropping to bury his face in your neck. “j'st when we were gettin' t' the good part…”

۫ ꣑ৎ bella little message ; hope this is good, sigh, omg im almost 200 followers!! excited. and since everyone seemed to love rapper!chris i wrote another one, this is the back to tha basics replacement!

© vainilladollie ; all work is owned by me. please do not copy, translate or transfer my work to any other blogs or sites and do not claim as your own. drivers are mine, don't use them at least ur giving me the credit. love u to the moon, xx.

[arcanefox207]

The Warden.

GameWarden!Joel Miller x F!Reader Explicit 18+ MDNI | 3.8k WC | AO3

Summary: Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Power imbalance. DUBCON (could be considered NONCON). Reader is into it but she still doesn't have a choice. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. Explicit smut. Oral (male receiving). Fingering. Violence. Manipulation. Unprotected P in V. Cum talk. Creampies. Dark!Joel.

Notes: Please read the warnings. HUGE thanks to @joelmillerisapunk for beta'ing (love you, Odi!) Also FYI Game Wardens (also sometimes known as conservation / wildlife / DNR officer) can have broader authority than police and can even search your person / property without a warrant, are expert marksmen and usually work alone.

M A S T E R L I S T | A O 3 | N O T I F S

You saw the sign and ignored it, like you always did, as you walked down your favorite hiking trail. The one that few people knew about. The trail that was always peaceful and quiet and you rarely met another soul. Your hidden secret that you loved to escape to. The one that had been marked as “Trail Closed” for months now for reasons you could never quite figure out.  

As the forest thinned you finally reached the majestic bounty you sought. A quaint pond, nestled in the pines. The waters edge pebbled with rocks and ferns. Water lilies sparsely decorated the surface. What once was a sprawling picnic destination was now overgrown. Serene and abandoned to nature.  

You knelt down and ran your hands over the stones, picking up and admiring their unique beauty of the ones that caught your eye.

You were so preoccupied taking in the comforts of the world around you that you never heard him. Never even considered there were eyes on you, watching you from behind some overgrowth.

“Excuse me, miss,” his voice startles you as you stand quickly and turn around. “You’re in violation of State Park rules and regulations.”

“Huh?” Your words come out sounding dumb and caught off guard. You quickly scan for the source of the voice and see some movement in the bushes, revealing a man. 

He walks towards you, emerging from his hiding spot. A tall and broad man, head to toe in the standard olive green uniform that the wardens wore. A tactical belt and vest and a scoped rifle slung on his back. His toned physique mesmerizes you with each step forward.    

“It’s my sworn duty to enforce the law and enact justice as I see fit.” His words were robotic and rehearsed. 

As he got closer you could see he was an older man and incredibly handsome with some greys in his beard along his jawline. His hair was shorter with wavy curls, pushed back neatly with some silver catching in the sunlight. His skin weathered by the sun. His aquiline nose made his face look even more intense and powerful, matching his words. Broody and serious. This was a man who was in control.

“And you’re trespassing,” he lowers his voice, “in my territory.” 

You were trespassing. He wasn’t wrong. You felt your body flush with a wave of panic, with a hint of arousal crawling somewhere deep inside you. Lurking and waiting with intrigue and fear.  

“Area’s posted.” he says as he now stands in front of you. You are at a loss for words, caught doing what you thought was harmless.

He senses your panic and it rallies him to toy with you. 

“This is a protected wildlife conservation that you’re messin’ with, sweetheart.” He pauses and changes his tone to intimidate you as he leans in close. “And you see, I don’t like that.” 

You feel your heart race. Were you actually getting in trouble for taking an innocent hike in the woods?

“You know who I am?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest while he waits for you to speak. His veiny, chiseled forearms distract you. He looks so scrappy and dangerous. 

“The Game Warden?” You hesitate.

“That's right.” he nods with a cunning smirk. “Name’s Joel, but you’re gonna call me Sir.” He enunciates it firmly.

You feel your body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. You were scared but also felt a pulsing go through you when he spoke. You didn’t want him to be upset with you. Everything about him was screaming: dangerous, do not piss off.  

“I’m sorry about trespassing. I didn’t know… Sir.” You added his title for good measure.

But you did know. You knew every time you walked past the sign at the entrance telling you not to. Bullshit was not going to fly here and only fueled him more. 

“Lying to an officer too?” He shakes his head as it hangs low. He circles you with intimidation, looking you up and down. Lecturing you with silence and waiting for your reparations to be determined.  

You can’t fight off that lukewarm feeling inside you that grows warmer. Slowly it gnaws away at your resolve. Seeing him with the tactical vest on that snuggly accented his chest and left his belly exposed with nothing but his green shirt covering it. The only spot that was vulnerable and soft. The rest of his body was strong, protected by his excessive gear, lean muscles and mean looks.   

You see his name badge embroidered with ‘MILLER’ and accidentally whisper his name out loud like it's a question. Wondering who this man is and what his intentions are. In the peaceful calm of the woods in the middle of nowhere, your whisper may have well been a shout.

“Officer Miller.” He corrects with authority in his tone as he leans over you. “And I’m gonna have to discipline that mouth of yours.”

You’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and certainly never had a run in with a Game Warden. You knew they were essentially lone wilderness cops with a god complex and few restrictions. Still, you knew this was far from acceptable behavior. Everything about how he was acting was wrong. You open your mouth to protest, but hesitate on his threats. He relishes in how you work it out in your head that talking back isn’t going to get you out of this. You can only bite your tongue so long.

“I’ll report you.” You threaten back, acting like you have some moral upper hand to hang over him. 

“Go ahead. Ain’t nothing you can do about your situation right now, sugar plum.” He scoffs. “Not to mention, s’your word against mine.” He stops circling and leans into your ear as his southern drawl makes the words sound smooth and buttery. Hot and melting on his breath as they drip out of his mouth. 

“Wanna take a guess who wins?” He says deviously and you can feel his patchy beard scrape against your jaw as he pulls away. A shiver pulses through you, right down to your pussy. Beating to his unsought touch. 

Why is this turning you on so much?

“You see darlin’, I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.” He circles again. “And you keep breaking the rules.”

Your heart races. This was getting serious. The realization hits that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, and that is exactly his intention.

“On your knees, and hands where I can see ‘em.” he barks. 

You obey, folding under his commands. Hoping your obedience would lessen the blow. 

You drop down gently unsure of what exactly he was playing at, treating you like a violent criminal. You stretch your arms out to your sides with your palms up in submission. He stops just in front of you, scooching down so he is eye level. A tiny grunt as his knees bend. Tobacco and leather scents accompany him. 

“I’ll let you off with a warning… if you promise me you won’t be doing it again.” He offers. Sweet words coming out slow and sticky like honey.  

“I won’t. I promise. It won’t happen again.” You quickly plead. Foolishly hopeful this was it. Ignoring the conditional implication of his terms.   

He stands back up with his arms crossed before raking one of his hands through his hair, thinking. He wasn’t buying what you were selling. 

He paces in front of you. The obscene bulge in his pants was impossible not to notice as he parades it past your sightline. Back and forth, back and forth. He was packing more than just a firearm. 

He stops directly in front of you so your eyes are mere inches from it. You look all the way down to his feet in an attempt to hide the red that flushes your face. Trying to dismiss your own arousal that was getting louder and wetter. 

He reaches down to your chin and cranes your neck up to look at him with an urgency. 

“Gonna’ need some convincing, sugar plum.”

Fuck...

He releases you and walks to the nearby weathered picnic table and lays his rifle down. He unsnaps his utility belt that was strapped over his waist and leg and tosses it along with his handgun in tow. It made his broad shoulders look even wider with his waist unhindered by the bulky gear.

The uppercase “WARDEN” embroidered on the back of his green tactical vest serves to remind you that he is an officer of the law. It taunts you as he takes his sweet time laying out his things neatly on the table while you wait with anticipation for whatever was happening next.  

As he turns to walk back towards you, snatched in his vest, he tries to conceal the smirk pulling up from the corner of his mouth. You hate how good he looked, as if it could ever excuse how disgusting he was behaving.  

He stands coolly just a foot in front of you and unbuckles the modest leather belt. The metal clasps clank loudly as he lets it hang down and unzips. He clocks your reaction as he pulls up his shirt enough to show his messy thatch of hair trailing down his lower belly.   

He can’t be serious… 

Reaching a hand inside his boxers he pulls them down slowly as his cock peeks out. Big and fat and leaking. Aching to be touched. 

He is serious.

His eyes are focused intently on yours, watching them widen as you take in his cock. It's just in front of your nose as you look up and sit back on your haunches.

“Go on,” he growls and lowers his voice. “Convince me.”

He reaches his hand around his cock and pumps it. The broad head glistening in his precum as he drags his hand down his shaft. You wonder how long he had been watching you and if he had been stroking himself before he approached you. Maybe this interrogation was all foreplay for him. In fact, you were certain it was.   

The hot feeling surging in your core surprises you. You were actually turned on by this pig. Still, you knew this was beyond fucked up. You hesitate with what to do next, conflicted by his abuse of power and the inappropriate way your body was betraying you.     

“You gonna disobey a warden?” He threatens, getting impatient. 

You wonder what if you refused? What if you didn’t play his game? What would he actually do? It still didn’t feel like there was an option other than what was right in front of you, demanding your obedience. 

This was only ending one way. His way. 

“No, sir.” You swallow and fight back the tears. You place your palms and claw your fingers into his thighs as you sit up straight. You start to open your mouth and look up at him with glossy eyes. Conceding to him. 

You catch that spark of darkness igniting in his eyes. Burning hot and formidable as it spreads through him. Your misfortune was making him harder.

He parts your mouth open with the tip resting on your bottom lip. He teases it in and out, letting you feel the weight as the ridge catches on your lip. 

God he was big.

“Give it a kiss first and be real polite.” 

You close your lips over the tip and appease him with your gentle touch. Polite even. You suckle it delicately, drawing out beads of saltiness as it drips onto your taste buds. You can’t stop your natural impulse to flick his slit with your tongue and it makes him stiffen even more, twitching in response.

“Good girl.” he praises as he tangles his free hand in your hair. You wince as his firm grip pulls you closer to him. He pushes into your mouth. Inch by inch. The hand on his cock held it steady until you were adjusted to his size. He lets go and slides his hand above your nape, letting you take the full weight of his cock as you hollow your cheeks.

He was so thick. 

You decide to give him something he wants without asking, attempting to entice him to be kinder. His roughness was starting to hurt when he pulled at your hair and dug into your skin. Relaxing your mouth he pushed further in without your protest. Nestled tight in your warm and wet paradise. You notice his urgency shift.  

“Nice and slow. No need to rush.” He commands as you take him deeper. This order sounds more like it's for himself so he doesn’t cum too early. You can feel how close he is. He was ready to burst the moment you dropped to your knees. 

You gag as the head hits the back of your throat.   

“Oh, you sound pretty like that.” He moans as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Choking on my cock.” He makes a guttural sound as he nudges his cock even deeper into your throat. He was impossibly large as he fights to stuff you full.  

“Hold still.” He fucks into your mouth. Harder. Harder. Harder. Pulling your hair too tight and pushing your head too far onto him as he bucked into you.

With tears in your eyes making your nose run you can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking  and a cock stuffed in your mouth, bruising your throat with each plunge.

He snarls as he looks down to you, locking eyes. Blown out. Feral. Dark and desperate like he was giving in to his wildest, forbidden desires with no regard for you. It was a selfish need he was taking for himself and only himself. You were nothing. A wet hole for his cock to fuck.  

He was coming undone. His moaning and panting echoing across the serene pondscape and tainting your safe escape forever. Even that memory he was taking from you. 

You were waiting for it. Bracing for his hot spend to pour into you but instead he slowed. Thrusting deep into you with a grunt before dragging out his wet, dripping cock. He winced as it popped out of your mouth and you gasped for air.

This sick fuck was edging himself. 

He wanted more. Needed more. 

“Get up.” His haggard, breathy words bite at you.

He lifts you up by your hair. You quickly comply to relieve the pressure on your scalp as you stumble to your feet. A whine escapes you as he lets go roughly. 

“Gonna make sure you learn your lesson today.” He gestures to the picnic table just a few steps away and you shamefully go to it. 

He pushes you to lean over the bench and bends you in an ‘L’ shape. You press your arms against the seat to hold yourself up. He drags his hand down your back and around to your hips, admiring your delicate form laid out before him. He wanted to lose himself inside you.

He drags a hand between your legs and feels your cunt hot and wet against your shorts. He lets out a growl as his fingers get soaked along your seam. 

You hate how good it feels to have him touch you where you ache for friction.

“Mmm…” he groaned as he breathed in your arousal on his fingertips. “Knew you wanted this cock inside you.” He ruts his hardness against your ass. 

He slides his hands over your back. Over your hips. Down the sides of your legs until he stops abruptly. Fingering at something jagged in your pocket. Something you forgot was there. 

“What's this?” 

Your heart stops. You can tell from his tone that he knew exactly what it was.

He slips his hand in your pocket and pulls out two shiny stones you had collected from the waters edge.

Fuck.   

“Caught stealing from the cookie jar.” He clicks his tongue to scold you. He was stacking his case with further evidence to hang over your head.

“Oh, Darlin.” He fakes a sympathetic tone. “You’re in big trouble now.”

It was then you realized he knew all along. He was watching your every move. He was waiting for the right moment to manipulate you to his will. 

“Bad girl. Larceny is gonna cost you more than just an apology.” He drops the rocks carelessly and grabs your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one motion. You gasp as he makes you step out of them as he pushes you forward so your knees are on the bench seat. You catch yourself on the edge of the table. Half naked, exposed and totally fucked. 

“Spread 'em nice and wide for me.” He knocks your legs apart with his knee as he stands behind you, his cock notched against your entrance and it sparks an adrenaline surge inside you when you feel his tip press into you. 

“Please!” You beg him. “Please stop. I’m not letting you fuck me!” You spit out with an attitude. This was a line too far. A line he was intentionally pushing to see how far he could go before you fought back. 

Unsurprising to you, he liked playing with fire.  

He reaches out and grabs your neck with his wide grip, roughly pinning you prone against the table so you can’t move. He leans over, and hovers low to your ear as his shaft drags against your seam. 

“Ain’t making you do nothing, sugar plum.” He pauses and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he prods you gently with his nose. Tantric and hungry with his movements. 

“I can take you now and then we’ll be done with it, or I can take you in. S’your choice.” He loosens up his grip on your neck and sits back slightly. He feels the way you tremble under his touch, and the way your cunt throbs against his heat still pressing against it.

You feel it too. Something you can’t explain. A primal feeling of desire. Surrendering to your most basic human needs. That having him inside you might not be so bad. A rationalizing in your brain that you did wrong after all. It’s only sex. 

Only sex. You’ve certainly done worse with lesser men under the guise of alcohol. 

“I can promise you, they won’t be nearly this forgivin’ at the state prison.” He traces his finger down your spine, being delicate and gentle. Tracing until his finger runs into his belly pushed flush against you. He leans back and grabs his cock. Painfully hard and still soaked from earlier. He presses the head right against your swollen clit and rubs it against you. 

You let out a moan and he knows he has you.  

“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to cum all over my cock.” He strokes your clit with his head again and again. Knocking at your door and waiting for you to answer. 

“I’ll make it real good for you, sugar plum.” Your clit pulses on his cock. Needy and hedonic. Forsaking any restraint you have left to say no.

You take a deep breath and curse under your breath, curling your fingers around the edge of the table as you sit up and face forward.

“Get on with it.” You concede. 

He smiles wickedly. He was always going to get what he wanted in the end.

With you still sitting on your knees he locks his body against yours, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest and wraps a hand around the front of you, rubbing and pinching at your clit with his rough fingers and dipping them into your hole. Spreading your slick. Stretching you open as he scissors his fingers.    

His body against yours was so much bigger. Broad and strong. You were the mouse and he was the lion about to pounce. His heat piercing through your skin. You felt him line up at your entrance, nudging you with his tip. 

There is no more patience or preparation. He needs to fuck you now. Needs to have that friction choking his cock that has been rock solid for too long. Without warning he thrusts into you again and again and again. Each time a little deeper and harder. His fat head catching on all your ridges as your pussy grabbed onto him.

It felt so fucking good and you hate it. You hate him.  

He stretches you more than you’ve ever felt before. The initial pain subsides as he rubs your clit fiercely with his fingers. The pleasure inside you builds. He kept his word that he would make it real good for you.  

He puts his leg up on the bench for leverage and bottoms out inside you with a grunt as he pulls you down on his cock. Fucking up into you and impaling you with his cock.   

Your moans run away from you, loudly filling the air with obscenities. You feel your climax building up inside you. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life and you are soaking him. You know he won’t last much longer.

“Please..” you beg him between moans. 

“Please what?” he snarls as he fucks you harder, his cock ready to spill. 

“Please... Sir. Pull out,” you beg him.

He laughs at your ridiculous request and ignores you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you hard against his body. One hand wrapped around and splayed over your belly and the other curled around your breasts and pushing on the front of your throat. He had you held so tightly to him there was no way you could stop him. 

Your climax tears through you. 

“Carry in… Carry out.” He recites the most basic of park rules between grunts while you brace for it. “Leave nothing behind.”

He releases into you. His hot cum coating your deepest walls as he empties into your cunt with the loudest orgasm. He pushes you down prone and fucks it deep inside you before he starts to soften, making sure you know he was deliberately filling you up with his seed.

He collapses on you and you breathe together for a moment. He leaves an unexpected kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, silently thanking you for letting him use your body. 

“Next time pay attention to the game cams, sugar plum.” he nods up at a nearby tree and he gives a side smile. Mocking your mistake. 

He withdraws his cock from you and lets you fall forward, his cum already running down your legs. He eyes your mess with a smirk, pleased with his conquest. 

“I’m always watching.” He says with a wink.

Tagging some cool people that I love very much and fellow Joel Hole comrades (please note if it’s too dark for your taste it’s totally ok to skip!)

@magpiepills @for-a-longlongtime @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @youandmeand5bucks

@toxicanonymity @wethairjoel @evolnoomym @almostfoxglove @beardedjoel

@aurorawritestoescape @hellishjoel @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @joelstummy

@pearlessance @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @sawymredfox @macfrog

@slimybeth69 @whocaresstillthelouvre @joelsdagger @baronessvonglitter @covetyou

@chronically-ghosted @skbeaumont @yourcoolauntie @yopossum @beefrobeefcal

@sp00kymulderr @moonlitbirdie @wheresarizona @syd-djarin @punkshort

@sin-djarin @guiltyasdave @strang3lov3 @frannyzooey @tightjeansjavi

@cavillscurls @gasolinerainbowpuddles @pedgito @survivingandenduring

@ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @schnarfer @pedrospatch @penvisions

[rodolfoparras]

due to again retail busy and I forgot how dumb and infuriating people can be and I have a fucking short fuse of an anger— have this before the smut for build up sugar cube :) again, merry Christmas to everyone here, I hope y'all are having a much better day, just wanna know how actually I'm proud to see the anons here saying great things they have achieved, including you Alec because moving into a new house especially where you feel like now you don't have to restrain from anything is a great feeling I can understand and I hope your staying safe out there (quite literally)

It started off as a joke. Really.

You stayed behind with some rookies after training them, a lot of them have questions from diet advice or their perks and Price was there due to needing to ask you for that report you were meant to write on his last mission.

Sure, kids are young, they'll let their mouth fly pass like a damn wind. Price understands that, but—

"Colonel, look at this reel, it's so funny." It was a video of a hairy male who at first mouthing lyrics to a rather ludicrous song about nasty acts, to when it suddenly transitioned to him wearing a bra that somehow perfectly cups his chest to look like a woman's.

The other, more sensible recruit of course elbowed his friend for showing this kind of thing to you, their superior— but Price didn't miss that subtle smirk you had and once glance towards him and his chest. To which that leads to here. Price still checking himself up in front of the mirror, after that day he impulsively bought a pair of blue sets of panties and bralette.

Insecurities makes him feel funny in this, even humiliated— sure, he could have read the room wrong, and god knows where'd his career he if it's true but... this could be a perfect chance for him to gain your attention, not as superior to subordinate, but with lust. He had fantasized too much on how your rough hands would feel like, that's for sure.

Price puts on his military suit again, the feeling of cotton material rubs against the thin lacy undergarments just puts a reminder on what he's doing— he needs to play his card right and maybe... *he'll get more than he bargaining.*

With that, Price knocks on the door of your office, taking a deep breath before straightening himself. In the back of his mind, doubts and doubts flood in— but the feeling of silk rubbing against his chest and the fullness of the plug nestled between his ass is enough to make him stay put and stand tall.

A low grumble was heard before the door swung open. You were there behind him, in your military suit as usual, looking down at him with an expectant look "Price, what is it?" You asked.

Price takes a gulp at the sight of you then, fuck he wants you. "Colonel, can I talk to you in private?" You nodded at that, letting him in and you closes the door behind him. "What is it?"

"Can you lock the door? Make sure no one's around?"

'I guess it's that confidential of a detail for a mission.' Is what you thought as you take a glance around before locking the door, hearing something shuffling and rustling behind you. "Price, is something the matter—" You didn't even get to finish your sentence as you were met with a sight of Price hurriedly stop undressing his military suit, revealing a skimpy lace bralette underneath, chest hair protrudes the cloth.

"I— was gonna say don't turn around.. yet."

Jesus Christ. You didn't know how long you were standing there, Price's hand still frozen by his belt before he looked down to see a dark stain in front of your straining bulge that look like it hurt. Oh. Did you just came, by just looking at him like this? He didn't know it'd work this well, or is it because it's him?

"Colonel?" "Ye— fuck, yeah?"

"Don't you wanna have a closer look?"

Let's just say, his confidence went racking up ever since that day and how others notice how often Price came by your office, often coming out with a satisfied look, and a limping legs.

Perhaps a hint of lace if you squint your eyes at the opened button on his chest.

🪂

AWOOOOOO AWEOOOOO AWEOOOO WEEPOOOOO IM GOONG YO LISE MU MIND IM GOING TO OOSE MY DAMN MIND LET ME ON LET ME IN LET MEN I RN

[logansdoe]

desperation.

warnings: f!reader, mdni, cockwarming.

a/n: I miss him. ☹️

The heavy steps could be heard from outside the door. His every step hurried, mixed with weight. Weight of his worries? Exhaustion? Or just simply his mind.

Some of the dogs perked up. Catching his scent. The knob twisted twice before opening. Closing just as quick. You could hear that he is back. The dogs barked as they saw him. Jumping on him, trying to get his attention but it wasn't on them at the moment.

You, blissfully unaware of the storm that was his mind right now, stirred the tea. One tea bag, two spoons of sugar and a pinch of salt. Just how you like it.

You could hear the footsteps. Thud, thud, thud against the hallway. Making you raise your brow. You stepped away from the counter, tea forgotten as you peak your head out to hallway.

You saw him, but only for a second. Before you could even ask, his lips were on yours. Soft. His hand came up to hold the back of your neck, holding you still as he licked his way in between your lips.

A man starved is what would be used to describe him right now. In a moment of surprise, you pushed at his chest. Only for his free hand to come and wrap around your wrist, pulling it away.

Backing you up against the counter. The steam of the tea still wafted in the air. You could feel yourself running out of air. A small distressed sound leaving your lips against his, the sound almost swallowed by him before he pulled back.

Looking down at you, your chest heaved with every breath you took. Up and down, over and over but it felt like the air just wasn't entering your lungs. His lips moved to you jaw. Kissing down to the side of your neck.

"need you. . Need you so bad." He whispered against your skin. Tainting it with his words. "Please—", he stepped closer. The words covered in desperation. His body pushing against yours. As if wanting to mend and be one.

He wants to be close. As close as physically possible. At this moment, he feels like the only way he could breathe is through you. His lips found yours again. His hand leaving your wrist to wrap around your waist. Pulling you close.

Hands placed under your thighs to lift you up. Lips still attached, swallowing every sound, every whisper of any word.

Walking to the living room. Sitting on the chair as he placed you on his lap. One hand leaving to unbuckle his belt. Teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you whimper. Your hands loop around his neck, one hand in his soft curls.

He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zipper down as he pulled his cock out. Hard and seeking attention. It almost looked painful. Using his arm wrapped around your waist to lift you up, having your weight on your knees as he pulls your shorts down, just enough.

Using his spit, to coat his tip as he run it between your silken folds before letting you sink down his length. His mouth gaped, head tilted down, as a strangled breath left him.

Your grip on his tightened. Feeling him, in you, was a feeling you will never be used to. "Ah— Will. .", you whispered. Your face going into hide. Forehead against his shoulder. Your hips squirmed, starting to move but his hands firmly placed on them.

"ju— just stay. Like this", he whispered. His voice shaky. Vulnerable. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, he swallowed thickly. His dry throat bobbing as he did. "I need this", he whispered softly.

The feeling of you, felt like he could breathe. Like the haze in his clouded mind has finally cleared. Wafting away like the steam of the forgotten tea.

[issilya]

I've been tagged? In a WIP Wednesday? Like what? Thank you @casino-lights ! That's a first for me 🥹

So then: I dislike rewriting entire quests that happened in game if I'm not really changing much, but I still needed to address the first time Esha and Lucanis met in the Ossuary, so this became more of a retrospective that should lead to an actual scene. Haven't yet decided what scene that should be though, so might as well share it here so it doesn't rot in my google docs!

For Spite, her voice was the first thing he heard that wasn't there to hurt him. It was there to hurt others. “I came here for the crow, whether you want to throw your lives in the package is up to you.”

But Lucanis wasn't sure what to make of the de Riva that was apparently breaking him out. The way her icy-blue eyes measured him when he stood before her. The squint in her eyes, and a smile in the corner of her lips. The other elf with her immediately noticed: “He's possessed!”  But his fellow crow did not seem bothered by it. It was no surprise Spite was immediately intrigued by her.  “I wasn't expecting… that.” Her voice was playful, almost tinted with praise. A tone that brought only pain for a year now. But not this time, it seemed. Unless? Could this be a trick, he wondered?

She walked softly, her gaze transfixed on the sea. A whale passed above them and she hummed at it, spinning on her toes as she followed it with her eyes. Her fingers brushed the enchanted walls gently, as if she was afraid to break them with touch - but too curious to just leave them alone. She was relaxed as she turned her back to him, while her companion kept eyeing him suspiciously. He almost felt taunted by how careless she was around him. Or was it Spite who felt taunted?

So vulnerable.

But then he saw her fight. The way she dashed towards the few Venatori still left in the prison, the smile on her face as she cut them open. There was a feral fury in her that gave him a chill. She was not the killer many crows grew to be. There was a deliberate slowness in some of her moves, as if she found pleasure in the act. She inhaled the smell of blood like a hound on a trail.

They walked by the torture cells in silence. He could tell she was thinking about it - about what he went through - as she passed the tables and looked at Zara's notes. He looked for pity or disgust in her eyes, like he would expect, but there was none of it. No judgement. Nothing, but focus on the goal and a stoic mask he could not read.

When Calivan lay dead, she reached down to his body and unceremoniously snapped a necklace off him. She tied the gemmed medallion to her belt like a trophy.

Her bloody fingers carelessly brushed a strand of hair behind her tattooed ear before she looked at him with a smile. Satisfaction of a job well done.

“Time to go?” She asked so matter-of-fact, as if they didn't just fight demons and horrors beyond comprehension. As if she wasn’t talking to an abomination. So undisturbed.

Careful. She knows we're not right.

Yes, she knew. But she didn't seem to care like he would expect. Not like her friend, visibly nervous. And Lucanis wasn't sure if that should worry him.

He expected questions. But she only spared him a short glance when they were on the way back to the shore. A shadow of a smile danced on her lips as she lowered her hand into the water. It weaved softly between her fingers as the boat moved. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

The Veil Jumper with her seemed less relaxed. She tried to work through the tension. “So, you're Lu-”  “Bellara.” De Riva cut her off in a low voice. A reminder not to talk with other crows around. “Right. Sorry, Rook. Maybe later.” The elf's heavy earring jingled as she focused on her shoes. They spent the time in silence as the crow who waited for them paddled back to the shore. Lucanis’ mind wandered as he watched Treviso’s roofs get closer. Rook. A curious nickname. How did she get it?

Their eyes met when they got to the docks. She saw the shock in him - the look she gave him dared him to keep it together. He let her lead the way to the Diamond, and she walked slowly, letting him take in the change in his city. The reality of occupation he had no idea about. The reality she did not have the courtesy to prepare him for on their way back.

[gosecretscribbles]

Stanuary 2025 Week 1: Mindscape

Summary: Stan is on the beach looking for clothes to steal when heatstroke sets in. He pops out of his body and into the Mindscape, where our favorite Dorito is hoping to make a deal.

AO3 link

Stanley was cold. 

He got up and walked.  Sand and candy wrappers crunched under his bare feet.  Shorebirds chased the waves back and forth.  Gulls chased the occasional flying chip wrapper.  It was really hot today.  Why was he cold again?

Whatever.  He was busy.  He was sick of hand-me-downs.  Pa only bought Ford new clothes.  Stan was sick of hand-me-downs.  By the time Stan got them, it was because Ford had almost outgrown them, which meant Stan only wore them for a week before they were too tight to really wear.  So he was going to find a few charitable tourists and borrow some semi-new stuff. 

Except there…weren’t any tourists.  That was weird, too.  And the gulls were gone.  And he was <em>cold.</em>  If it was so hot, why was he shivering?  Shivering sucked.  Stan got up and started walking.

Had…had he been lying down?

“Stupid sand,” he grumbled.  Must’ve tripped.  Ugh, he was cold.  He squinted.  Oh, duh, there were no tourists because he was headed the wrong way.  He could see the shadow of the Stan O’ War over by the cliffs.  They’d only been working on it a couple of months, but they’d stowed some basic running away supplies in there.  Water and chips and a couple towels.  He could use a towel.  He got up and started walking. 

The Stan O’ War was getting close now.  He felt a little better already, and a whole lot lighter.  He grinned.  <em>See?  Stan-the-Man’s still kickin’.  You know what, forget the beach.  I’ll go to the boardwalk and steal the clothes right off people’s backs!  Literally!</em>

“I’ll train a pet fly!” he said aloud.  “I’d make it go up people’s shirts and bug them until they took it off.  No wait, a pet wasp.  Wasps are cool.  I’ll tie some string around it like a leash and feed it…whatever wasps ate.  Apples?  Oh, I could use Shanklin!  No, wait, if I sic Shanklin on them, Shanklin he’d just tear up the clothes.  Okay, no Shanklin.” 

He was still working out his plan when he reached the boat.  He put one hand on the side of the boat and lifted his foot to step over the broken wood.

His hand went straight through the boat.

He fell forward with a sharp cry, expecting more pain as wood dug into his leg.  But he didn’t even hit the ground.  He looked down.  He was floating.  Apparently. 

“Huh.”  He waved his hand through the boat again.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard his own footsteps for the past…however long.  “Am I a ghost?  Oh man, Sixer’s gonna <em>love</em> this!”

“HEY THERE, KIDDO!”

Stan looked up.  Lounging against the mast was a bright yellow triangle.  It had one eye, little stick limbs and a top hat.  He snorted.  “A bow tie?  What are you, an insurance salesman?”

“HA!  YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY, KID!  DRESS FOR THE JOB YOU WANT, NOT THE JOB YOU HAVE!”  The triangle swooped down and circled Stan.  “YEESH.  YOU WANT TO BE A TRASH HEAP, KID?”

“Depends, what’ll you pay me for it?”

The triangle laughed and zipped away, coming to rest on the rail of the boat.  “YOU KNOW WHAT?  I LIKE YOU KID!  NAME’S BILL!  HOW’S ABOUT I HELP YOU GET SOME REAL DUDS, HUH?”

“Yeah?  You the magic money fairy?”

“EVEN BETTER, KID!”  The triangle multiplied itself in a ring around Stan.  All the triangle-guys tilted in slightly and their shapes turned into screens.  He saw recordings of himself, like he was watching his memories play out on TV.  The time he got Ford’s old jeans.  The time he patched up Ford’s old belt with tape.  The time Ford ripped a white T-shirt, so when Stan got it, he started rolling up his sleeves.  “I’VE BEEN WATCHING YOU, KID.  WHY STOP AT A WARDROBE UPDATE?  I CAN UPDATE YOUR WHOLE LIFE!  NEW HOUSE, NEW YOU, NEW FAMILY!  WHADDAYA SAY?”

“Nah.”  He turned and started doggy-paddling through the air.

The triangle was suddenly in front of him again, a little too fast.  His yellow edges seemed to snap with static.  “HEEEEY, BUDDY!  PAL!  WHAT’S THE RUSH?  I’M OFFERING THE SALE OF YOUR TEENY TINY EXISTANCE!”

“Con,” Stan said flatly. 

“WHAT –”

“<em>COOOOON,</em>” Stan said flatly, sounding bored.  He lounged back on thin air.  “Pretty bad one, too.  Is this from the moldy corn chips last night?”

Bill was definitely buzzing with static.  The yellow flashed briefly to red.  “CORNCHIP?  GUESS AGAIN, KID!  YOU’RE IN THE MINDSCAPE!  I’M AS REAL AS YOU ARE!”

Stan frowned.  “Mindscape?  I’m dreaming?”

“DREAMING, ASTRAL-PROJECTING, DYING, WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE?  DO YOU REALLY WANT TO RUSH BACK TO A FLESH PUPPET THAT’S HOT, HUNGRY, AND TIRED?”

“Yep.  Bye.”  He swam through Bill. 

Bill turned bright red and got way, way bigger.  Bigger than a dump truck.  His eye turned black with a slitted white pupil. 

“<strong>BIG MISTAKE, KID –</strong>”

“Con.”

“<strong>I’VE BEEN WAITING A TRILLION YEARS – </strong>”

“Con.”

“<strong></em>STOP SAYING –</strong></em>”

“COOOOOON.”

It might’ve been scary, but Stan had already proved that they couldn’t touch each other when he ghosted through Bill.  He was pretty sure this was all real, though.  Mostly because he’d never ever dream up a bowtie and a top hat.  What was that even about?  Was the money fairy running for president or something?  At least grow a beard, Mr. Shiny Abe Lincoln!  Or get lasers.  Lasers were cool. 

If this was real, though, then he wasn’t sure what had happened to his body.  He didn’t really remember dying, so maybe he was just…part ghost?  He’d been walking around on the beach before, so his body was probably somewhere on the sand.  He wanted to go back to it.  But it actually was nice not to feel hungry or tired.  That, and the sun was starting to set.  Ford might’ve gone looking and found him.  And Stan really didn’t want to lead this thing back to his brother.  He wasn’t sure if being a ghost meant people could see them or not.  If they could, though, Ford would take one look at Bill and go all Obsessed Robo Nerd.  No thanks.

It took a few hours, but Stan eventually made Bill go away by singing “I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves” over and over.  Bill started making weird screechy noises at him, which was absolutely <em>hilarious.</em>  But the sun was setting and he really needed to find his body before the gulls tried to eat him for smelling like corn chips.

Sure enough, he spotted his body slumped over a little way up the beach.  Looked like he’d collapsed face-down.  (Okay that was a little bit funny.)  The tide was coming in up to his shoulder.  Ford had found him, at least, and was dragging him out of – oh, wait, no, he was dragging Stan <em>into</em> the water.  A flock of seagulls surrounded them, periodically trying to dive-bomb Stan’s body.  Ford was trying to fend them off with a bent beach umbrella. 

“Back, ye beasts!” Ford shouted at them.  “BACK TO THE DUMPSTERS FROM WHENCE YOU CAME!”

…Alright, so Ford wasn’t completely trying to kill him.  Just drown him.  Apparently. 

Stan braced himself and dove back into his body.  He didn’t even have a full second to think, <em>It worked!</em> before gravity yanked him face-first into the next wave.  He flailed, coughing hard, and all of his limbs threatened to crush him under his own weight.  He thought he’d felt cold before.  He was practically freezing! 

“Stan!”  Ford grabbed Stan’s head and pulled him above the wave.  Which did not help.  Ford realized this and switched dropped him –

“OW!”

– and then grabbed Stan under the armpits, hauling him a little further up the beach.  The seagulls drew back, sullen disappointment in their beady little eyes. 

“Sixer,” Stan croaked. 

“Stanley!  You’re alive!”

“You – tried to – drown me!” he managed between coughs. 

“I’m trying to cool you down!  How long were you out here?  You’ve got really bad heatstroke, you’re burning up!”

Is that what this was?  Heatstroke felt like a bad fever, times a thousand.  His body hurt and he was so cold his teeth were chattering and he couldn’t even see and he felt so dizzy he was going to throw up. 

“Wanna go back t’ the mind thing,” Stan groaned, and then almost screamed when the next wave crashed over his legs and back.  It was so cold, why was it so cold and why did it hurt so much? 

“…making sense.  It’s okay!  We just – okay, we can’t go to a hospital, but I read about heatstroke!  You can’t sleep – no, that’s concussions.  But it’s fine, we’re cooling you off –”

“<em>Hurts</em>.”

“We have to, Stanley, you could die from heatstroke!” 

Ford’s face was really pale, actually, even in the orange light of the setting sun.  No wait, it was night.  Because it was all dark.

“It’s not dark, I just opened the umbrella.  Uh, you’re cooling off, you also need to drink a ton of water <em>not the seawater!</em>”  Ford yanked Stan’s chin up above the waves.  Stan tried to bite him.  He was thirsty!  “No!  It’s 3% salt, processing salt in your kidneys takes more water, you’ll actually dehydrate drinking it –”

Stan lost track of what Ford was saying.  His head was pounding and his vision was going all dark.  But Ford was making nerd noises, which must mean that everything was okay.  He closed his eyes.  This time, instead of a weird talking triangle, he saw black, and slipped down into a heavy sleep.

[how-queerious]

me: *vibing so hard with travs monster voice as chet and his growl in We All Rage*

Travis: *beautiful BRIGHT tone and belt* And rudolph's surfin in the seeea

me: RIGHT MUSICAL THEATRE DEGREE

[brainrotcharacters]

Have a romp in a Honda Odyssey now and fix your marital disagreements today!

[sheliesshattered]

10 minutes left before I turn a year older and what did I do?

I ordered myself a lightsaber. ah yiss

[fowlaroundtown]

Just finished reading the IDW 2023 Annual and. I am an okay and functioning human person. 100000% totally normal and fine.

[denimshortsdean]

i would pay any amount of money to do karaoke with jensen ackles and its important to me that you all know that

[tonycries]

FIVE! - C.K.

Synopsis. Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bréeding, Choso with rings + a tongue piercing, creampíe, mentioned kids, cúmplay, he goes feraI, oraI (fem receiving), Itadori family shenanigans (mild spoilers for unc-kuna), overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Will I ever write a Choso fic without the Itadori family? No absolutely not.

4:37PM.

“Ooo, Cho can we check that place out?”

And, listen, just because Choso would give you the moon right along with his heart doesn’t exactly mean he’s jumping with joy when he follows your gaze to that gaudy little shop tucked away in a corner of the mall. Flashing a loud, glittering sign reading, “FORTUNES: FIND YOUR FUTURE!”

Traitorous memories flash through his mind with each step you drag him closer. Of all those fortune shops he’d frequented years ago, trying to figure out whether you’d say yes to a date - before even thinking of actually asking you. 

He won’t ask anything, Choso reassures, stepping through the heady, curtained doorway. Probably not anything, he’s musing, pulling out his wallet to pay for your session. Well, maybe some things, he concludes, eyeing the sprightly old woman that takes a seat opposite you two, peering down at her dramatically large glass ball on the table. 

But that doesn’t mean he’ll-

“Babies.”

“Huh?”

“Yes.” the woman gives a solemn nod. “Five of them.”

Both of you let out a squawk of surprise, much to the amusement of the fortune teller. And Choso can feel his palms getting sweaty against your own as he manages to croak out a low, disbelieving, “Five?”

All but toppling out of his seat in suspense as she takes a moment to scrutinize her orb once more. And, surely glass balls can glitch, right? Mix up fortunes or something? Because while he knows you’ll be by his side in this life and every other one after - kids were a whole other responsibility that neither of you had talked about, yet.

At least, that’s what Choso was trying to convince himself right before the woman lets out a thoughtful hum, “Well, you-” pointing a wisened, accusing finger right in his flushed face. “-want more - about eight - but, of course, your future wife says no.” Gesturing to your giggling figure, “Honestly, young man, learn to keep it in your pants, the poor dear!”

Shit, he was going to run away, do something to end up on the national news - and judging by the way you squeeze his hand, you could tell, too. 

Subconsciously, Choso’s eyes scan the wall for any hidden cameras, wondering what type of strange prank this was. It had happened once four years ago - and just-so-happened to be what made him give up and finally ask you out - but, hey, it made for a pretty great first date story, right?

Finding none, he sighs, barely opening his mouth to ask before she plows on, “And of course there’s only so many your uncle can piggyback at once, right? No matter how much that grump says he doesn’t like it.”

Right.

Of course.

Oh god, he thinks he could faint. 

Choso doesn’t dare say anything for the rest of the session, nor does he look directly in your eyes. Save for that one time to admire your delighted laugh when the fortune teller prattles on about how your kids will “fight his needy self for your attention.”

Not until the two of you are stepping back out into the too-bright mall, your fingers intertwined with his, voice sweet in his ear as you continue with your forgotten mission to find the good brownie mix for the family dinner tonight. 

“Eyes like yours and hair like mine.” You sigh, repeating what you’d heard mere minutes ago. Hooking a finger subtly into his belt loop, smirking, “Sooo, five, huh? You’re this worked up over that?”

“N-no.” Choso replies hastily, but the heavy gulp he takes is a dead giveaway he can’t stop thinking about tiny combinations of the two of you running around. Face too-hot, hands jittery, brows furrowed as he decides for the second time in his life that, yeah he’s never stepping foot inside a fortune shop again. 

You notice - of course, you do. 

Especially when he pulls you into the nearest changing stall, knuckle-deep inside your drenched panties, rings cool against your cunt, lips kissing at your throat. Ignoring your teasing complaints about “getting late”, despite how you’re letting him have his way. 

He feels the vibration of your voice under his hot tongue, laughing - even when he gives your pretty clit a little pinch. “Five.”

And through it all, he can’t help but think - hypothetically, of course, that he hopes they all have your laugh.

---

7:16PM.

Honestly, the one thing that made the Itadori residence more of a home to Choso was having you there. Even when you’re standing with him outside the front door, letting out a sigh as you glare at your sad excuse for brownies.

“Ugh, Cho, we totally burnt them.” you grumble up at your boyfriend. “Your dad is gonna hate it and Sukuna’s gonna make fun of me and-”

“Sukuna can try.” Choso hits the doorbell once more, sure that the ruckus inside was too loud to even think over. “And he probably will.” Before turning back to your adorable pout, and ah he can’t stop himself from cupping your face, smoothing over that furrow in your brow. He leans in to give your lips a chaste peck, “But, he’s still gonna steal some. N’ dad’ll love it, and you already know gramps is gonna sneak in some even though his doctor told him not to.” He’s getting out through kisses, pulling your giggling face closer to his. “And we’ll be lucky to get any before Itadori inhales them.”

He ends his little speech with a slow, lingering kiss. Sliding his soft lips across your now much happier ones. Dancing a hand down to pull your hips closer, murmuring throatily, “N’ most of all, I’m gonna love ‘em, baby.”

You gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pressing just at the hem of your panties through your dress, “You’re- you’re too much.” You hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. “But, the brownies really are-”

Slam!

“Yeah yeah, Jin, the brats are finally here, jus’ fucking on the porch!” 

If there’s anything Choso’s learned from all the times you’ve had dinner with his family, it’s that 1. Yes, the brownies - as burnt and questionable as they were - will always turn out to be a hit in the Itadori household. 2. You were really, really too perfect for your own good, even amidst the chaos. 

“Oh no, let me.” you flash Jin a beaming smile, taking over the well cleared-out plates to the kitchen. Only to be followed by an enthusiastic Yuji almost tripping over his own feet to help you out. 

“You got a good one there.” Choso snaps out of his soft stare to whirl around at where his grandpa was seated next to him. He tips his head over to where you were chattering animatedly with the younger boy taking your load of dishes. “Real lovely. Though, the desert I’m assuming you helped out with.”

Jin pipes up, “Bah! I thought that liquorice was great.”

“They were…brownies.” Face burning, he stammers, knowing full well that you were the one that forgot them in the oven. “And uh y-yeah, you got me…”

And, of course, because it’s a family dinner, Sukuna has to lean over to rile him up. Interjecting teasingly, “Then you best wife that cute lil’ thing up before those baking skills of yours make ‘em run off n’ find someone that can bake.” He smirks devilishly, eyes flitting to the view of the kitchen, “And…”

“And?”

“-is fuckin’ great with kids, too.”

Several things happen at once - the words are barely out of Sukuna’s mouth before he’s being swatted over the head. Hard. After all, being the nicer of the two doesn’t make Jin Itadori forget his roots as the older brother.

And Choso’s jaw is dropping into a soft oh! Not at the unusual display of strength, no, instead it was at the heavenly scene before him.

He swears, the lights grow just a bit brighter and the world becomes a little rosier at the sight of you teaching an eager Yuji the correct way to scrub strainers. Gently guiding the boy until that confused furrow between his brow disappears. “Yeah, just a bit more on the side and you’re done!”

He gives you a very soapy high-five, “You’re literally a lifesaver, Kugisaki was just making fun of me for this the other day.” Moving onto the rest of the workload, “‘Can’t do shit’ gonna show her, seriously. Thank you mom- uh-”

Yuji freezes. You freeze. And it seems that everyone in the world might’ve frozen, except for Sukuna who was still rubbing that bump on his head. 

And you, of course, promptly cutting off the flurry of apologies that looked like they were about to burst from Itadori’s lips. Smiling at the flustered boy softly, “Well…good job, Yuji.” you bump his hip. “And now onto the blender.”

“AW, MAN.”

Suddenly, everything was normal again. Except for Choso - definitely not Choso. 

Mom? 

So utterly, completely not Choso when everyone’s still talking downstairs, and he’s not. Making some cheap excuse about a ‘bathroom break’, which really didn’t explain why he covertly drags you behind him by the hand. All but shoving you into his childhood bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as he could without alerting anyone of your tryst. 

“Ch-Cho-” you squeal when he pushes you against the wall, dropping down to his knees with a fervor that makes you wince. But if it hurt, then Choso doesn’t show it - doesn’t show anything but pure need when he bunches your dress up at your waist. Soft tongue darting out to glide along your drenched slit, “What’s gotten- hngh- into you?”

The only response you get is a murmured growl of something you can’t bother deciphering. And he doesn’t give you any other, either - sluggishly nudging away your panties to admire your glistening cunt. 

So close. Just hovering over your puffy folds, smiling at the way they only get wetter at his hot breath, “Five.”

Too close. Glossy pink lips falling slack to wrap around your clit and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Though, it was more of a bang. And an even louder voice from outside, “OI, you brats better be decent, gramps found some dusty old albums n’ wants you two down.”

---

9:02PM.

“Awww, this is from his first fight with Yuji- yes, Choso so what if I took a picture?” Jin excitedly points to a photo on the page, “Yuji was the one with a bruise, but Choso was the one bawling.”

You titter at the glossy picture, a confused-looking Yuji as a toddler, being smothered by his older brother in a hug - big, fat tears running down his pouty cheeks. Adorable. And somehow that encounter with the fortune teller today rings in your mind - wonder if your kids would have those same eyes?

“As cute as ever, huh?” your gaze dances across all the gems of childhood on the page. 

“Disagreed.” Sukuna leans over, no matter how much he’d like to pretend he wasn’t interested in these albums. “Look how attached the lil’ anklebiter used to be.” A painted nail pokes at one of Choso on his uncle’s shoulders, tiny fists happily gripping onto pink hair - much to his disgruntlement. “And then I look over at him now and-” He glances over at the man in question, very much unamused. “Well. That’s disappointing.”

Choso rolls his eyes, “What’s disappointing is how you’re this old but still can’t find a-” 

“Ooo look this is from when he’d run away during bath time!”

That album is snatched so fast out of Jin’s hands that you wonder whether it might just be your imagination. But you look over at a red-faced Choso, seeing him hold it way above your heads. Muttering out a hasty, “I think that’s enough photo time.”

Amidst the collective groans of disappointment - even Sukuna lets out a low huff, you hadn’t gotten to those ugly matching Halloween costume pictures yet - only Yuji speaks up, “Do you think I’d be like that, too?”

Sukuna scoffs, “What? An emo bastard? Might just work out for ya, kid, the dumbass look isn’t doing you any favors.”

Yuji juts his chin in indignance, “No- we already have Fushiguro for that.” Tilting his head over to the album still tight in Choso’s clutches. “Do you think your kids would like me? Would I be that cool favorite family member?”

“No way, brat. It’ll be me.”

Choso’s grandpa also chimes in as well, “Huh? No, I’d be the favorite.”

“Gramps-”

“Says who?”

“DISRESPECT TO YOUR ELDERS!”

“Hey!” Everything turns to Choso, startled at his sudden outburst. Tension crackling as he pokes a thumb at his chest, “I’d be their favorite. For all five of them.”

And you knew a fist or two to be thrown, hell, you half-expected the album to be used as some type of weapon. Because before you knew it, Sukuna was on Yuji, and both Yuji and Choso were on Sukuna. Falling to the floor in a tangled pile while his grandpa sat on the sidelines, chanting an elated, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Ah, it’s times like this that you wonder how Jin Itadori really had the patience. Because with all the grace that was lacking in the current scuffle on the living room floor, he claps his hands loudly. “Alright. Perhaps Choso’s right, that’s enough photo time for tonight.” He plucks the album out of a dazed Choso still gripping onto it, before moving to walk out. “And for the record-” Flashing you all a devious smile which suddenly had you remember that shit, him and Sukuna were twins, after all. “-I’d be the favorite.”

The arguments that followed were ones you had to record on your phone to giggle at later. And, yet, through it all, the only thing you could truly focus on were Choso’s words - all five of them.

Fuck. You were truly, irrevocably so fucked, and one sideglance at the pretty pink blush burning at the tips of Choso’s ears told you he wasn’t faring any better. 

You jolt when his hand wraps around your waist - nothing out of the ordinary - but what was was the way he strayed past their usual perch at your hip, trailing slightly above to just caress your stomach. Something so electric in those eyes when they catch yours briefly. 

All five of them, huh?

---

9:37PM. 

SLAM!

“Cho, why’d you-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know what’s hitting you first - his lips crashing against yours, or the realization that this was Choso. Dark eyes half-lidded, skin burning, breaths heaving with the fervor he was drinking you in with. 

“What-” you yelp when he pulls away lazily to suck on your lower lip. “What got-” Only to come clashing back down again, drawing out all the air in your lungs as he blindly shoves the two of you against the nearest wall. “What got into you this- mmpf-” And again it’s like Choso didn’t want you to talk - could bare another word in your sweet voice for fear of poking some deep, visceral part of himself awake. 

This time, not even daring to break the kiss, he pants into your open mouth, “Shut up.” So bruisingly sloppy, “Please.”

And oh he was so very determined to have it that way, because all you can do is let out breathless gasps when his hands dance down your body. Handling you so rough with the way he snaps the neckline of your cute lil’ dress, kneading your breasts, your hips. Everywhere and anywhere he could reach until he makes his way down to cup your already-damp cunt through your panties. “-because tonight m’gonna have her talking.”

Choso pushes his hips against yours with a strained grunt. Lips curling into a sinful leer when all you can do is gasp at the outline of his thick erection through his pants. Grinding down onto his palm subconsciously, dragging your sloppy pussy. 

“Shit.” Choso immediately brings his hand up to admire - now all glistening with a sheen of your syrupy slick. Looking you right in your glassy eyes as he pops a wet finger into his mouth. His own rolling to the back of his head, “Oh shit.”

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. So very, very much.

“Turns out…” he trails off, cutting himself off by dropping to his knees. Hard. Large hands groping your ass closer to his greedy mouth, “-she says we got some unfinished business.”

You whine when Choso hooks an index underneath the mound of your drenched panties sliding it along your puffy folds. All the way up until he was nudging at your pretty clit, then down, down, down until you were just coating his fingers. 

“Ngh- Cho-” your knees weaken, when his hot breath hits your pussy. And he notices - of course he does. Circling his muscled arms around your legs to hold you up, “Oh my god s’too much.”

Too much? He’s barely even getting started. And he tells you that - slurs it between his sharp canines biting down on the thin fabric of your panties. He tugs with his teeth, “M’gonna- fuck you smell so heavenly- m’gonna ruin you.” 

You whimper in disbelief. Knowing he was too entranced with your cunt to tease you again, you mewl, “Wh-what’s got you this- fuck- worked up, Cho?”

The only response you get is a throaty growl - like the mere idea of the answer to that has Choso losing his sanity. 

And, honestly he feels like he’s lost it already. Instead, taking his time to watch the way your slick beads through the see-through fabric with each passing second. Breaths coming out in little puffs as he pulls your panties back every-so-slightly and-

“Fuck!”

And then he’s pulling - ripping your poor panties to shreds. Cock twitching wildly at the strings of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric. Mouthwatering. 

Your panties lay in tatters on the floor. The cold air hitting you right along with his steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Smearing it across your folds with his thumbs as Choso repeats a single, jagged whisper, “Five.”

But you barely even have the time to register his response before he’s diving nose-deep into your dripping cunt. You don’t even know if he took the time to breathe - hell, he was kissing your puffy folds like he didn’t need to breathe. 

“Shouldn’t have taken me to ngh- that fortune shop.” his lips mesh sloppily with yours. “Shouldn’t have gone to dinner, too.” Licking down your folds, the cold metal of his piercing making your head spin. “Fuckkk we shouldn’t have. Ohhh we shouldn’t have- ”

He can’t help but let out a guttural, fucked-out little grunt at the sight. Looking right up into your glassy eyes as the tip of his nose bumps against your throbbing clit. On purpose. 

You buck your hips deeper into his pretty face, mewling. “O-oh. Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Letting him lick so filthily all over your clit - your folds - just barely dipping into your hole like he couldn’t decide. And it finally sets in that just maybe you weren’t getting off easy this time. “Five?”

And fuck you can feel the way Choso grins against your pussy, wrapping his now-glossy lips around your clit to suck so harshly.

“Mhmmm.” he moans, cheeks hollowing as he tugs on your poor, ravaged clit. Rolling his tongue - the ball of his piercing - right across the sensitive bud in just the way he knew you liked. “Shouldn’t have put those thoughts in my head, baby.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. Five. 

You definitely weren’t making it out alive today.

The same sentiment seems to ring in Choso’s pussydrunk head as he pulls away with a lewd squelch to grin up at you. So fucking pretty with his eyes miles away, hair messily framing his smudged eyeliner. Lips all puffy and glistening, your slick covering the lower half of his face, his chin - some even on his jaw like Choso was trying to get messy on purpose. “Ya finally got it, baby? I could feel her gettin’ wetter.”

You did. How could you not?

You jump when Choso reattaches his lips, this time bullying his tongue past your folds, into that first, feeble ring of resistance. Stretching out your sopping entrance on his tongue in persistent, rough pushes. “Seems she hngh- really likes the idea, hm? Of me breeding this lil’ cunt?” he moans, muffled with the way he was thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper with each second. Roaming for those cute sensitive spots he knew so well, “N’ who am I to say no to the fuck- mother of my kids?”

“There! Oh my god there-” you cry when his piercing just hits at your g-spot. “I-I thought you ngh- didn’t want kids, Cho–”

As if to prove you wrong, Choso’s only curling his tongue deeper into your walls. Squeezing past your walls to fuck you exactly the way he wanted to with his aching cock right now. Hitting that magic spot again and again and-

“Oh yeah? Seems-” Like he was fucking addicted, Choso surges forward again. And again. And again and again so deep that you could feel the curve of his chin, each and every movement of his jaw. “Seems the last five hours were a bit- eye-opening. Fuck- you’re squeezin’ me s’fucking- mmf- tight”

And it was true - your walls were milking Choso’s tongue so hard you half-lucidly wondered whether it didn’t hurt. Whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up at this point, lips aching. 

But if they did, then Choso acted the exact opposite. Nails leaving neat little patterns on the plush of your hips as he makes you ride his face harder. 

“Cho!” you buck your hips wildly when that wasn’t enough for your needy boyfriend either. Big, fat tears of overstimulation rising up to your eyes when he swipes his thumb across your pulsing clit. Rings cold against your cunt when he starts to draw urgent, messy little circles in time with his tongue.“Oh fuck-” 

“Five.” he’s spitting into your cunt when your thighs start trembling beside his head. Jaw sagging open so lewdly as he gets faster - sloppier. Fuck any rhythm or reason. “Five.” he moans, sounding as strained as you felt - as taut as a tightrope right now with each drag of your sloppy cunt over Choso’s ravenous mouth. Greedier - letting your slick run all the way down his wrist now with how messy he was getting. “Five.” he whispers, when you finally cum. 

And shit, you’re such a vision when you do. Tears springing to your eyes, fingers tightening on Choso’s hair. Letting out such cute sobs of his name, hips moving out of control all over his mouth while he still pulls and pushes his tongue into your gummy walls. Fucking you so obscenely through your high. 

“Yeah? You all done with the first one, baby?” he rasps, giving your sensitive cunt one, last peck at your delirious nod - and another extra, just to watch you squirm. “Then-” Choso does the same up your body, pressing his lips to your stomach, “-you can-” the valley of your breasts. “-take responsibility.”

That’s all it takes for Choso to easily throw you onto his sculpted shoulders like some ragdoll. Taking long, urgent steps towards the nearest flat surface - that just so happened to be your couch. 

“Cho- slow-” you squeal when he throws you onto the cushions. “-down.”

And he does anything but. Barely paying attention to your zipper when he pulls off whatever’s left of your dress, throwing it god-knows-where behind him. “I’ll buy you a new one when we go pregnancy shopping.”

Choso lets out a long, strained groan when he unbuckles your bra. “Gonna be so pretty as a mama.” Large, soft hands coming to knead and guide your pretty nipples into his mouth, “Gonna be- fuck- so pretty with these all full.” 

And you can only watch, jaw-dropped, as Choso sucks on your tits. Eyes rolling to the back of his head with how harsh he was - as if he was trying to get out milk. Needing to feel it - to taste it on his tongue. 

“And this- oh this-” A hand sneaks its way down to splay out over your stomach. Pressing down, hard. “So round and full with my kid.” He manages to grit out over the metal clinking of his belt, “They’ll look at you and all they’ll see is me.” He pauses, feeling something crinkle in his pocket - a shiny condom. One that Choso chucks along with your dress, “Fuck, they’ll see me. Know how I ruined you. Me me me me-”

Fuck- 

You’re so caught up in Choso’s sinful little mutters that you barely even noticed he’d pull down his pants - just enough for his rock-hard erection to spring free. And he looked so painfully hard, such an angry red at his weeping tip, leaking all the way down, down, down those prominent veins. 

Twitching upwards at the mere sound of your voice, “Why don’t you p-prove it then, Cho?”

You broke him. You were sure you broke him. 

The words have barely left your lips before Choso’s fist is squeezing at the drenched base of his cock. Angry. Desperate. 

All but cumming on the spot when he glides his fat head along your slit - letting your cunt drool all over him before-

“F-fuck-”

“Shhh baby, I know I know.” his mouth crashes against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on your tongue while he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. Inch by fucking inch. And whatever’s remaining of Choso’s sanity knows he should slow down, let you breathe, maybe stretch you out more - but how could he when he physically can’t. “Fuck- too- too good. God, I have t-to do this more often.”

Your raw cunt too heavenly that he genuinely can’t stop his hips from splitting you apart deeper, from spreading your thrashing legs so far apart it burned.

From feeling the way you’re torn between taking more and flattening your feet to push away- Letting out a strangled groan, “No no no no no- don’t you take this pussy away. How else will I breed her?” He runs his delirious mouth, strong arms just dragging you across the couch back onto his mean cock. “Need this- need this so bad. Fuck-” Choso throws his head back as your cunt sucks up his leaky tip. “-oh god think m’gonna die if I don’t get to breed this pretty pussy. To give her my kid.”

Pushing in small, sharp jabs to bully himself inside, having your puffy folds bulge so obscenely around his cock. Quivering and struggling to take him all. Not even a quarter of the way in yet he was pushing in and out in and out in and-

“Oh- please-” you claw down his toned back, his waist, onto the biceps that were pushing your knees up for easier access, all the way until they were at your tits. Folding you into a tight mating press, “Cho–”

Ah, that little nickname always did things to him. And Choso nuzzles the crook of your neck gently - the exact opposite of his hips, leaving faint, dark streaks of eyeliner on your skin. “What is it? What do you hngh- want, baby? I’ll give ya anything.”

And maybe you were a mastermind. Maybe you were an idiot. Because you hum into his ear, sending goosebumps rising down your boyfriend’s spine, “Wan’ five of them.”

If you thought you broke him before then you fucking ruined him now.

Because in one, harsh thrust he’s bottoming out - feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs, your hazy brain. And the stretch - fuck. You could feel each and every dip and curve of Choso’s girth, thrumming against your plushy walls. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, stretching you out like such a slut. 

It was all Choso could do to echo, over and over like some type of mantra. “Finally- Five, huh? Five- Fuck!” Leaving little bruises on your thighs from spreading them apart so hard. “Gonna give you five- fuck- five.”

Each word was punctuated by a long, mean thrust, not daring to reel back until Choso could feel his fat head kiss your poor cervix, and his heavy balls smack against your ass. 

It was starting to take a toll on your ability to speak in coherent sentences - as expected, of course. 

“Oh- ngh- Cho, s’too deep. Too- ah-” you blubber tearily, heels digging into his shoulders. And he only fucks you harder into the couch. Bouncing you so rough on his swollen cock. 

“Too deep?” Choso mutters, sounding genuinely surprised. As if to confirm for himself, he trails up a hand to feel for where he knew he was leaving loving little marks on your cervix. Pressing down. “How are ya- hah- how are ya gonna let me breed this cute cunt if even this is too deep, huh?”

You don’t have the ability to answer even if you wanted to - because Choso starts to toy with your still-sensitive clit. Sending flashes of white-hot pleasure with each roll of his ringed thumb over it. Tiny, incessant circles.

He coos over your lewd ah! ah! ah! “Awww. My baby can’t s-speak anymore?”. The curve of his dick fucking you so dumb, massaging your tight walls, hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. “S’alright, jus’ let me hah- take care of it, okay? Jus’ let me paint this oh- heavenly pussy white.” Choso’s knees dig into the cushion as he angles his hips ever-so-slightly to hit that one-

“Fuck! Oh fuck- Cho–”

Found it.

“C’mon, baby.” Choso moans into the valley of your breasts, hips out of control now. Free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to peer into his dark gaze. “L-look at me. Fuck- look at the future father to your kids.”

All while his thick tip hit your g-spot over and over and- 

And oh how he loved how fucked-out you looked already. Capable of only giving him bleary, cockdrunk heart-eyes as he milks himself on your sloppy cunt. He couldn’t think straight - doesn’t think he’s been able to since five hours ago. 

Since he’s been wrecked with thoughts of how he’d do their hair and you’d pick them up from school. And how Yuji would be the best uncle and- Fuck, how he wanted those five kids with you - maybe even more- 

“More?” you gasp. And Choso lets out a guttural groan when you clench so sinfully around him in surprise. Fucking you so filthy, “M-more kids?”

Choso only drawls out a low, “Mhmmmm.” Pinching your clit faster between two fingers to shut up those cute whines because shit- he could cum from just how tight you were squeezing him. But refuses to before the mother of his kids. “Ya don’ ngh- wan’ me to? Don’ want me to fuck a baby into you?” 

You’re crying out harder when he speeds up. Rocking your sloppy cunt so harshly, making sure your poor pussy will remember him for a long, long time. Just trying - needing - to make himself cum. To fill you up with his seed till you can’t take it anymore. “I- ngh- do!”

And it takes everything in Choso to pull away from your ravaged tits, connecting his sweaty forehead with yours. Whispering, “How many?”

“As- fuck-”

“Mhm?”

“As many as you want- hngh-”

That’s all it takes for Choso’s body to bow, teeth digging in right above that rapid pulse on your neck so hard you wondered whether it drew blood. Hips stuttering, giving your sensitive spot one last, harsh kiss.

This time, when you cum you see white flashes behind your eyes - or maybe that was just Choso. Because the sight of you falling apart on his dick was all it takes for him to as well. Hard. Almost painfully so. 

Eyeliner running down his cheeks now with each thick, hot rope of seed he was filling your snug cunt up with. Those cushions below the two of you the last thing on his mind right now as he holds your trembling hips still, fucking his cum deeper and deeper.

The hand on your stomach pushes down, watching awe-struck at how your bloated cunt just coats him in cum. Dribbling down the side of your puffy folds, forming a creamy ring at his base.

“Oh!“ your jaw falls slack at how animalistic it felt. At how slutty your overfilled pussy felt, drooling all down your legs - and his. Onto Choso’s painfully squeezing balls as he fucks you like an animal. Again. And again and-

Again. He was speeding his hips up again. 

Then it’s like something snaps - Choso’s restraint, your sanity, and the couch. Fuck, his hips were so harsh that the couch was sagging entirely too much on your end.

This time, wrangling your legs around Choso’s waist, lifting your limp body up into Choso’s arms before you can react - squirming at the way he still doesn’t bother to pull out. Letting your cum gush all the way down his still-hard dick. 

Hands spreading your puffy folds apart, making such a mess of cum down below as he drags himself across your walls. Like he was marking you from the inside out - and he was.

“Didn’t think we were ngh- done, did you?” Choso’s lips graze your swollen ones. “After all, I did promise five.” Softly pooling a stray tear onto his tongue, piercing burning into your heated skin. “N’ we gotta practice for that, too, right?”

---

“The photo albums, really? Honestly, dad, you might as well have just gone and just outright told them.”

The older man only waves a hand dismissively, turning back to his favorite late-night show, “I’m not getting any younger here. N’ I’d like to see some grandkids before I see the pearly gates.”

Jin only sighs, but doesn’t disagree - after all, he couldn’t deny his father what he himself has been dreaming about ever since Choso finally plucked up the courage to actually ask you out. Yet he persists, “But honestly, Sukuna - you were teasing him a bit too much.”

Sukuna grunts, “Teasing? What teasing?” Crossing two big arms across his chest, “From the way they ran outta here, I suspect he should be thanking me.”

“Well, the true MVP - as the kids say - is this one-” Grandpa Itadori points at a rather oblivious Yuji. ‘Real nice improv to the plan, kid.“

Who only shakes his head before looking around the room for any answers, “Huh, wait. What plan? Did I miss some plan?”

“Ahem- no. Nothing.” Jin coughs, swiftly moving along the conversation above Yuji’s confused protests about what secret plan there was and why. “But, really, it should be that fortune teller you hired, Sukuna. Bit over-the-top honestly, but Choso was telling me all about her and you must’ve gotten a real convincing actress.”

Rolling his eyes, “Huh, I didn’t hire her, I thought that was the ol’ man’s work?”

“Now why would I go looking for actresses, my wife would just haunt me from the grave.”

The silence that follows is a heavy one as it slowly dawns upon everyone in the room - except for a still-floundering Yuji - that this was in no way a creative improvisation to the aforementioned plan. Not at all, really.

Oh. 

Wow. Five…really?!

“GUYS WHAT WAS THE PLAN?”

A/N. This got wayyyyyy longer than I expected lmao.

Plagiarism not authorized.