#but come on this extreme behavior is wild

[epickiya722]

Honestly, once more I feel some of the fandom really only cared about the shipping and not the actual characters.

Like, seeing people go "Katsuki is going to be pining and alone forever" actually makes me feel insulted on his behalf.

Was Katsuki only an appealing character to some of you because of "pining"? Who said that he was going to be alone forever?

I see people saying so much I'm starting to think it's being secretly manifested because it's what some of you want. I know some folks like that Katsuki angst. Don't you want him happy?

Sooo.... his development wasn't important? Was he only important to you if he and Izuku were together? Am I the only one who is happy that they at least are on talking terms?

Seeing Izuku talking to Ochako isn't enough for me to go "Katsuki is heartbroken forever", I'm sorry. The duo (Izuku and Ochako) are not standing in wedding clothes and exchanging vows.

Was it forgotten that MHA is a popular Shonen? The target audience is geared towards a young male audience, so yeah, we weren't going to get canon BakuDeku and instead Izuku talking with Uraraka.

Which was it is. Talking. Just talking.

Was they not allowed to do that???

Shoot, I needed everyone to talk because they haven't been able to do it!

Who know what's crazy? If Katsuki was the one to advise Izuku to talk to Ochako, that makes me realize that at some point, Izuku and Katsuki did have the talk they needed to get to the point that they're comfortable enough to give the other advice and be close again.

Like "hey, we talked it out, so now it's time you talk it out with her... man, we all need to get it together".

I thought making amends is a present idea in the story. Some of these characters need(ed) to do that. Katsuki and Izuku wasn't the only pair now.

Personally, given the target audience, it would be so funny if Horikoshi was sitting there sketching like "I'm gonna give these two the most 'dap me up' handhold ever". This feels like him going "Fine, I'll give what is wanted but not everything".

Something tells me he didn't even want to have an epilogue.

[quatregats]

Okay hear me out. What if Hornblower and Lady Barbara but they're high school math olympians and also have a crazy psychosexual rivalry with each other

[pentanguine]

I GOT COLDPLAY TICKETS

[kaijutegu]

Happy Valentine's Day! When you think about love and the animal kingdom, are alligators an animal that comes to mind? No? Well, they should be, because they have some of the most interesting courtship behavior of any non-bird. (Bird displays are something else entirely.) I think it's time that you all are introduced to the Big Gay Alligator Sex Study, more properly known as Courtship Behavior of American Alligators (Alligator mississipiensis), written by Kent Vliet. You can get the paper at the link below!

This was a study done over a 3-year period in the 80s with a population of captive American alligators to look at how they interacted. Alligators are incredibly social and have complex behavioral dynamics, and their courtship rituals and routines are pretty dang interesting. In general, crocodilians spend a great deal of time interacting with each other when compared to other reptiles, and the courtship behavior of a few species is well-documented. But in this post, I'm mostly going to talk about the American alligator (with a quick detour into Cuban crocs).

Why Do We Care About Courtship?

So before I dive into talking about this study, let's talk about why we care about courtship (the social behavior that leads to mating) and mating (sexual interaction that could, hypothetically, lead to reproduction). Courtship and mating are extremely important when studying animal behavior- honestly, they're extremely important when studying zoology in general. In some cases, understanding this behavior actually a major conservation concern! For example, the Cuban crocodile is an endangered species. They're largely constricted to two swampy areas of Cuba, both of which also have American crocodiles present. And unfortunately, the female Cuban crocs find the male American crocs really, really sexy. This is a big problem, because with only about 3-4,000 Cuban crocs left in the wild (possibly even fewer), they need to be breeding with their own species to make more Cubanitos.

These. Make more of them.

But what scientists have found is that not only are there hybrid crocs in the wild, the Cuban population of American crocodiles is more closely related to Cuban crocodiles than other populations of American crocodiles, suggesting this has been going on for a very long time.

You can read more about that here if you want, but back to the gay alligators.

Alligator? More Like Alli-GAY-tor, amiright?

(actually that IS wrong it's more like alli-bisexual-tor, but that doesn't sound like alligator)

So how does a study like this happen? Back in the 80s, the American population was Feeling A Way about alligators. Something that you gotta understand when you're doing any kind of conservation is that people protect what they love, and they love what they understand. Alligators are a major conservation success story today- there's millions in the wild- but they were in serious danger of extinction in the 1960s, and it was a combination of legislation, awareness campaigns, and captive breeding at both zoological parks and commercial gator farms that helped bring them back. As a result, they were one of the first species to be de-listed from the ESA!

All of this attention meant that alligator science was flourishing in the late 70s and 80s, and that's where this study comes into being. This post is long enough so I'm not gonna go into all the details and methodology- you can find that in the paper I linked up top!

However, there is one piece of methodology we should talk about, and that's the choice of study population. It's part of what makes this particular study so interesting!. See, in a lot of cases, captive behavior really differs from wild behavior. This can be impacted by captivity conditions- what other animals the study animal has access to, what behaviors the animal has learned in captivity, even down to things like how the animals are fed. For example, some courtship behavior in captive animals can be the result of unnatural habitat conditions or limited social groupings. If you only have access to a couple of conspecifics, you don't have the same choices that you do if you have access to something closer to a wild population. If you've got a breeding group with one male and a handful of females, you can't ask or answer any questions about male/male interactions! Crowding is also an issue- too many animals in a space can be stressful, and lead to atypical sexual behavior.

But that's one of the cool elements of this study: the alligators in question live in a large social group in a lagoon that's basically just natural habitat with a boardwalk going around it. It's about as close to studying a wild population as you can get, with the advantage that it's far more accessible. And what this leads to is that that the researchers were able to see a really wide range of behavior, because all of the alligators had lots of access to lots of different mates. They were able to make choices that you wouldn't see in a smaller group. There's a trade-off that Vliet notes, and that is the population density and captive situation means that results might not quite work out the way they do in the wild- but in the years since, the results of the study have been vindicated with research into wild populations.

So, what are alligators into? Gay sex, group sex, yelling real loud, and lots and lots of... gentle caressing.

that's not a euphemism they spend a lot of time gently rubbing each others' faces

So first things first, it turns out that the vast majority of alligator mounting, which occurs after courtship behaviors like jaw rubbing, bellowing, head rubbing, and swimming together is male/male. Over the three year study period, an average of 68% of all sexual interactions were male/male. However, what they don't really notice is exclusivity, because when it comes to the sex of their sex partner, alligators... well. They aren't all that picky.

Another fascinating aspect of alligator courtship is what's called courtship groups. These are readily observed in captive settings (and in the wild, too, as mentioned in Dragon Songs), and are mixed-sex groups that spontaneously form. As other alligators approach a mounting pair, the original pair will happily split up and switch partners. Usually what happens is that the alligator on top slides off to initiate courtship with a newly-arrived individual. What's really interesting here is that, as the author notes, "males engaged in courtship with a female readily terminate that interaction and initiate interactions with males." Another fun element of alligator courtship is that while in most vertebrates, males approach females, alligator females often approach males. Usually it's the males approaching, but for many crocodilians, courtship initiation is an equal-opportunity affair.

Alligators are also really vocal during courtship! This is pretty unusual for a reptile- usually they're a quiet bunch. But crocodilians are pretty chatty. And during the breeding season, something pretty spectacular happens: infrasonic communication, better known as bellowing. This is sometimes called water dancing, due to the ripple patterns it makes. It's a loud, low-pitched rumble that conveys information about size and location, and is used for territorial displays and as a mating call. During the not-breeding season, a bellow means "stay away!" During the breeding season, it means "HOT ALLIGATOR SINGLES IN YOUR AREA."

Here's some pretty spectacular videos showing you what this looks and sounds like. The vibrations make the water above their backs splash up.

Alligators are also extremely tactile during courtship. The study has detailed analysis of touch in specific tactile zones along the head and neck of the alligators. Vliet notes "These sites have increased numbers of swollen pustular scale organs, the function of which is unknown."

What's kinda funny about this to me is that now, the functions of these organs are known- they're highly innervated tissues that help alligators detect prey in murky water. An alligator's jaws are more sensitive than a human fingertip due to the sheer number of nerve endings! So of course these areas are going to be highly sensitive, and to me it makes perfect sense that they feature so heavily in courtship.

So what can we take away from this 40-year-old study? Quite a bit! First, it's a great reminder that humans aren't special. We see same-sex mating behavior in pretty much every species we look at. We see it in cockroaches, spiders, and butterflies. We see it in sheep. We see it in alligators. We see it in every other species of great ape. Of course we also see it in humans! There's nothing that special about same-sex sexual behavior. It's a part of... pretty much everybody's evolutionary history.

Another thing I think is really important is that while this is an old study, it was absolutely pivotal as a turning point in helping people understand alligators. Remember how I said earlier that we protect what we love, and we love what we understand? This study showed the world that alligators weren't just mindless eating machines. They're socially complex! Understanding alligator sociality and how they choose mates and interact helped us care for them better. It told us more about how to keep them happy in captivity. Alligators are smart, communicative creatures. They don't always get along, but they don't always fight, either. (Don't get me wrong: they will fight each other, and they've actually evolved some pretty specific anti-other-alligator defenses... but they don't always fight, even during the breeding season.) This is interesting to me because in mammals, it's hypothesized that same-sex sexual behavior may have evolved for prosocial reasons; that is, it helps reduce conflicts. Perhaps it does the same for alligators.

In conclusion:

If you want to know more about alligator courtship and mating rituals, I can't recommend Vladimir Dinets's Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure Among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations highly enough. I know I talk about this book all the time, but it's easily the most accessible writing on crocodilian social behavior. It will change the way you think about and understand these animals.

Another phenomenal book is Alligators: The Illustrated Guide to Their Biology, Behavior, and Conservation by Kent Vliet. (Hm, wonder if he's written anything else...) This is basically the Bible for gator behavior. The photographs are absolutely gorgeous, too.

[kotoku]

can i req sunday and aventurine with an s/o whos like the opposite of their personality? like for sunday, maybe his s/o is like short tempered and easily triggered while for aventurine, maybe his s/o is like not a risk-taker and stuff

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱ/ᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟ ᴏᴘᴘᴏꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

pairings - sunday x reader / aventurine x reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ established relationship/ opposites attract trope

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ In contrast to Sunday’s calm and methodical nature, you are much more expressive with your emotions and follow the flow of things

↻ You’re a spontaneous person, if there is something that has caught your attention, you’d buy it immediately, if you wanted to go somewhere, you would go without a second thought

↺ Your unexpected disappearances would worry your boyfriend to no end, coming home to scattered feathers and a clingy Sunday

↻ There would definitely be some arguments between the both of you, mainly about your reckless and careless behavior which would worry Sunday to no end, on the other hand you’d probably point out his slightly controlling habits which he actively denies…

↺ You’d both apologize to each other and make amends in the end, tuning down the extremities of your behaviors

↻ When the two of you first met each other, I can imagine him taking a bit of a dislike to your personality and vice versa (it’d be an enemies to lovers lol) 

↺ Someone would’ve had to force you two to interact with each other, and the both of you would be pleasantly surprised to see that you both enjoy the same things

↻ The two of you balance each other out, like hot and cold, snow and fire, winter and summer

↺ You help Sunday loosen up a bit, teaching him to let things go and relax while he helps you be more organized, teaching you to manage your emotions healthily instead of immediately lashing out on people

↻ Sunday is your celestial moon and you are his blazing sun

↻ There is a stark difference between yours and Aventurine’s personalities, while he’s quite the risk taker and devious individual, you are a cautious and blunt person, you wear your heart on your sleeve for the world to see

↺ No wonder why it was so easy for Aventurine to befriend and rope you into his antics, you were in for a long and wild ride

↻ You can’t count the amount of times you thought shit was going to hit the fan whenever you got caught up in Aventurine’s schemes, feeling your heart palpitating and breath quickening only to find out that everything was okay

↺ You found yourself almost wanting to hit him whenever he pulled this shit on you, but maybe he would like that

↻ Aventurine enjoys your reaction, always seeking to get some sort of rise or say from you (he really loves your attention huh)

↺ He finds it so easy to read you and what you are thinking of, too bad he uses this to his advantage

↻ Aventurine loves taking you to the casino he frequents just so he can observe your reactions to the game (he’s such a smug asshole to you lol)

↺ You’re always at the edge of your seat when it comes to betting, wondering just how much he’s putting on the line (--and by some miracle he always gets his way, you have no idea how he does it)

↻ Sometimes you find yourself scolding him everytime he takes a huge risk, especially if he gets injured and you need to help patch him up

↺ It feels being genuinely taken care of and worried for, but he basks in your attention so it doesn’t bother him one bit

↺ If he purposely got injured just to get taken care of by you, you’d probably patch him up, punch his arm, and then ice it again because you love him too much 

↻ Sigh, Aventurine sure is the death of you

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 3 (Hate Sex)

Kevin Moskowitz (The Deep) x Reader (NSFW)

(900 words)

Summary: You hate fuck The Deep

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, rough sex, a little bit of biting, hair pulling, degradation, penetrative sex, hate sex (duh)

Notes: I hate him so he was the perfect choice for this one LMAO anyway I think I kinda slayed with this one, I’m proud of it. Enjoy the fic!!!

-

“Jesus, you are so fucking stupid,” you scoff, pushing Kevin onto the chair. He flinches as he hits the back of it, truly a pathetic sight. “A dolphin? The fuck is wrong with you, you fucking idiot?”

After Stillwell held a meeting this morning about covering up The Deep’s dolphin-train track fiasco, you knew this was the final straw with your shitty job at Vought, especially with The Deep. Not only was he a grade-A douchebag, but also completely moronic, which often caused you two to butt heads on numerous occasions regarding his behavior behind the scenes. This afternoon when you dragged him into an empty office, you took your chance to reprimand him- personally.

“Fuck you, I was doing the right thing!” He rubs the back of his neck, “I’m part of The Seven, it’s my job to save people AND my ocean friends, without me, you wouldn’t even have a fucking job, so don’t you dare tell me what to do you stuck up, little-”

Trying to get himself back to his feet, you push him down again, this time straddling him to keep him down. You can feel the heat of his erection pressing into you. You feel it, and he absolutely can feel it too.

You look down at him with disbelief, “You’ve gotta be joking.”

His dropped jaw momentarily comes back up. He snaps his eyes up to you. “Okay, but you’re the one straddling me here.”

For as stupid as The Deep was, he actually had a point here. Of course, you couldn’t let him know that. Without thinking, you plant a rough kiss on his lips and making sure to bite his lip when you pulled away. Letting out a pained yelp, he comes back to his senses. The Deep grips your hips tightly, painfully almost, keeping you pinned to his lap as your mouth moves down to ravage his neck.

“Y-yeah, nothing to say now, do you? You fucking sl-“

“Finish that sentence and I swear I’ll make what happened to your little dolphin friend look like a fucking joke,” you grit out, your hand flies up to take his chin between your fingers. Not wanting Kevin to get the upper hand on you, you start grinding against his erection. This seems to shut him up perfectly. Seeing him like this was driving you wild. Sure, you hate his fucking guts, but God, if it isn’t hot seeing him under you like this. Your arousal continues to spike. Not wanting to waste any more time, you ease off of him, undoing his belt quickly and pulling out his hardened cock.

Now you understand why The Deep was so incredibly arrogant when he had no reason to be. His cock was huge, it would inflate anyone’s ego.

“Like what you see?” Kevin says loftily.

“Well,” you sigh, “at least you’re good for one thing.” Pulling out a condom from a nearby drawer, you tear off the wrapper, rolling the rubber onto his cock. “Wouldn’t want to leave any traces, or else it’s both our jobs on the line.”

Rolling his eyes, Kevin grips your thighs as he slips into you roughly. You wince at his intrusion, so you decide to retaliate by yanking a fistful if his hair. Kevin lets out a loud and completely shameless whine. Barking out a cruel chuckle, your pace against him is fast and hard, wanting to get yourself off as soon as possible.

“G-God you’re pathetic,” you huff. “You think… you’re h-hot shit?” You ask, continuing to slam yourself down on his massive cock. “No, y-you just whine, and beg, and c-cry like a girl, wanting me… to fuck you.”

Letting a harsh moan escape from your lips as you spout your degradation, Kevin’s hand winds up in your hair, taking revenge from earlier. You hold in a grunt, refusing to give him any satisfaction of the fact that what he’s doing to you is making you extremely turned on.

“F-fuck off, I know… you like this,” he groans, “…just as much as I do.” Kevin bucks into you harder, making your knees shake ever so slightly. You can feel yourself getting close. The chair below you two seems to wobble a little.

Not wanting to be around him any longer, your eyes slam shut as you ride him out furiously, chasing after your release.

Kevin grips the arm of the chair and your hip, attempting to steady himself at your quickened pace. “There you g-go…” he chides breathlessly, “Fucking yourself on me like… like the w-whore you are-”

“S-shut…” you grab the back of his chair. “The fuck…” your hand wraps around Kevin’s throat, you pump yourself onto him as much as you can. Your grit out the last word with a harsh, ragged gasp and you feel your orgasm tear through you. “Up.”

With the ferocity of your climax, Kevin nears his peak as well. But, by the time he comes, you are already off of him, straightening out your clothes and hair. He looks over to you, who is now already walking out the door.

“Don’t forget to clean yourself up,” you toss a small box of tissues over to where he’s sitting which he pathetically tries, and fails to catch. Before leaving, you glare at him icily. “You speak a word of what happened here, and your funeral will be next after Translucent’s.”

[mrsevans90]

Double Life

Summary: Charlotte has gone on a few dates with a journalist named Clark Kent and she really feels like she’s falling for him. She has noticed some odd behavior from him every once in a while, but the worst part is not knowing if he’s truly interested in her. Why won’t he make a move? Is he just taking things extremely slow? Are her feelings for him unrequited? She finds the answers to all of her questions in the most embarrassing way imaginable. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Clark Kent/Superman x Female Reader Charlotte

Brief mention of Bruce Wayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,060 

Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, voyeur, oral (f), oral (m), squirting, cum swallowing, fingering, P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), dirty talk, rough sex, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d

A/N: This story came to me in a dream and I woke up and immediately typed the idea in my notes section of my phone. This is my very FIRST attempt at writing anything on Tumblr so all I ask is please be kind and if you love it then please comment and REPOST! Thank you for reading! 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

I woke up early Saturday morning. It seems impossible to sleep in now that I’ve become so used to being at the office by 8 am every morning. I feel a bit jittery after my date last night and am thankful for the wine that I consumed being the only reason I even was able to fall asleep. I lay in bed as my thoughts run wild. I know I should be getting out of bed and going for a run in an attempt to get rid of this pent-up energy, but glancing towards my bedroom window shows a dreary overcast day with a potential for rain. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position while my brain races thinking of last night. A handsome and often quiet man named Clark Kent had taken me on our fifth date. He was absolutely gorgeous, well dressed with his hair combed back, strong jaw with dimpled chin and black framed glasses. His incredible physique and handsome features are only partially what attracts me to him. His generous and mild-mannered personality and intelligence were a huge turn on. The attraction I feel for Clark is more than I ever remember feeling for a man before. My dating life since getting cheated on by my long-term high school boyfriend has been very short lived which I was fine with until now. I feel like I’ve continually held men at arm’s length, settling for a few one-night stands but nothing more in an attempt to spare my heart from more heartache. I realized after our third date that I wanted more with Clark and that he was worth the risk but I honestly am not sure how he feels about me. Yes, he’s continued to ask me on dates; taking me to dinner several times and even to a movie, yet he hasn’t made any more advances other than holding my hand and a cordial peck on the cheek. He walks me to my door after each date and ends our evening with a hug, kiss on the cheek and a goodnight. After our fourth date, I asked him if he’d like to come inside, however, he politely declined. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure out if he’s even interested but I haven’t built up the courage to ask him yet. I doubt I would even get the chance after I essentially stuck my foot in my mouth on the walk home from dinner with him last night. 

*Flashback to last night*

We walked past a storefront near my apartment that was advertising superman shirts for children and I commented how cute they were. I had noticed over the past month, that Clark was very quiet anytime I mentioned the famous Superman around him. Why couldn’t I just take the hint that he was uncomfortable?

“You know, you look an awful lot like Superman. I bet if you dressed as him for your work Halloween party, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in you both!” I said with a smile that quickly went away when I noticed him flinch.

Unfortunately, I didn’t stop my nervous rambling there. In my attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that you actually are Superman! Ha ha! Do you have a secret identity you’re keeping from me, Clark?” I said with a wink. 

When I looked at Clark he seemed withdrawn and somewhat nervous. 

“No, no. I’m certainly not that interesting.” Clark quickly responded while looking at his feet as we walked into my apartment building.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight but I have to get going. I have, um… I have an early start in the morning attempting to interview people in Gotham City about the latest crime statistics.” Clark told me before I could even invite him inside. He seemed fidgety and awkward as he kept glancing anywhere but at my eyes.

“On a Saturday?” I ask and he quickly nodded while avoiding eye contact with me.

“Good journalism never takes a day off.” He said with an embarrassed smile. 

“I could possibly help. I have Bruce Wayne’s contact information if you’d like it. I’m sure he could be an interesting person to interview for your article.”

“You do? Why? I mean, how do you know him?” He responded with an arched eyebrow as he finally made eye contact with me for the first time in the past few minutes.

“Well, almost two months ago I met him at a charity gala for the Children’s hospital. He came over and spoke to me for a bit before he asked me on a date. It was the day after you asked me if I would go to dinner with you so I politely turned him down. He gave me his business card in case I changed my mind.” I responded quickly. Why does this feel so awkward? I didn’t do anything wrong but I still feel like he’s disappointed.

“I’m sure it’s on my desk in the apartment, if you’d like to come inside?” I ask as a last stitch effort to see if I had completely ruined this date.

“No, no that’s not necessary…Thank you, I appreciate the offer though. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Clark asked with his typical kiss on the cheek. 

“Oh…okay. Goodnight Clark.”

“Goodnight Charlotte.” He responded before turning and beelining for the exit. 

“Way to go, Char. Could you be any more of a dumbass?” I quietly said to myself as I closed my apartment door and went to get ready for bed.

*Present Day*

As I continue to lay in bed I begin thinking about Clark and think about how large and strong his hand was as he cradled my small one in his while we walked to the restaurant. The veins in his muscular arms, and his strong, sharp jaw. My arousal begins to dampen my panties which I quickly remove and lay back in only my white tank top. Guess this will be the only sexual relief I will be getting for a long time. I thought to myself as I reach for the vibrator in my nightstand and begin pleasuring myself. After only a few minutes, I have kicked off my covers as my body begins to glisten with perspiration, and begin pleading for my orgasm to arrive. My eyes clamped shut, I imagine Clark’s large, strong chest against my own, his arms on either side of my head as he pumps what I can only imagine is a perfect and large cock into my warmth. I imagine his beautiful blue eyes staring into my own as he presses kisses to my body and sucks on my neck.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! Ugh! I need you!” I say verbally as I continue to spur myself on in this filthy fantasy. 

CLARK POV:

Across town I am scrambling some eggs on the stove as I think about last night. Had Charlotte actually figured out my secret? Something the rest of the world seemed oblivious too? Or was she just joking and truly unaware? I had to deny it even though she was absolutely correct. I cringed as I began thinking about Bruce hitting on her. It’s not shocking since she’s possibly the most naturally stunning, intelligent, and interesting woman I have ever met. I believe I made it clear with him on the phone after I came home last night to stay away from my girl. I know she’s not technically mine, or a possession to own, but I have more claim to her heart than Bruce and I won’t allow him to interfere. Before I even realize it, I have squeezed a hand shaped imprint around the flimsy handle of the pan I was using.

“Damnit!” I mutter to myself.

I feel like Charlotte is getting impatient with me. It’s obvious that she wants more but how do I handle a relationship with someone I can’t be fully honest with. I want to tell her, I want her to fully know me but I feel like I can’t. I think back to how Lois was used essentially as bait when we were dating. The paranoia and pressure of being Superman’s personal kryptonite and obvious weakness was too much for both of us. Now, she was happily engaged to an engineer in the city. I’m delighted for her, she deserves true happiness yet I wonder if I’ll ever get to experience the same. I couldn’t stop myself from asking Charlotte on a date. The moment I saw her walking into the office next to me, I was lovestruck. Her long blonde hair, tight but professional dress with heels and most importantly crystal blue eyes. She was independent and driven as the head of marketing for her department. Yet, she still had this kindness about her as I watched her enter her building and the front desk guard hug her while thanking her for the toys she had sent home for his young children. She smiled genuinely and made him promise to bring his wife and children for a visit soon. God how I wanted every bit of her. I wanted her body, her mind, her future. The fourth time I saw her, I couldn’t help myself as I made my way towards her and “accidentally” bumped into her. We began a conversation and I was hooked. Before I could even think about the potential consequences, I was asking her to dinner. My cock ached as I thought about her in the shower last night after our date. Hell, I may be an alien but I still have sexual urges. She smelled and looked so beautiful. I could imagine her breasts pressed against my body. I daydreamt about the softness of her lips and the sounds she might make as I slowly took her apart. It has been almost impossible to turn down her invitations to join her in her apartment. I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss her because I’m scared to go any further and get more attached only to have her walk away if she finds out my secret. Was this self-preservation or just stupidity? I’m jolted out of my thoughts as I hear her voice louder than all the others noises going on around me thanks to my super hearing. I listen carefully as I hear her calling my name.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! I need you!” 

I hear her whine and she sounds as if she is out of breath. Without thinking I jump into my Superman suit and bolt out of the window straight into the sky headed towards Charlotte’s apartment. As I get closer, I can hear her whimper along with her accelerated heartrate and I panic thinking she’s in trouble. I reach her unlocked window and slide it open before flying in. Her apartment smells just like her, floral and clean. I focus on her heartbeat and the quiet buzzing sound that I originally thought was coming from the apartment below hers. As soon as I open the door I smell her arousal at the same moment I watch her reach her climax with her eyes clamped shut. 

“Yes, baby!” She cries out. Her legs are parted as she holds a small purple vibrator against her clit and I can see and smell how turned on she is as her pussy glistens with her want. Her breasts are barely contained in a thin white tank top as they heave up and down while she breathes through her orgasm.

Fuck! I’m such a pervert. I need to get out of here before she sees me!

I can’t help but stare at her as she’s laying there twitching from her euphoria. I reach for the door to carefully close it before I realize I wasn’t quick enough.

“Oh my god!” She shouts as she pulls the covers over her body to cover her modesty. Her face blushing profusely as she stares at me.

I back up quickly with my hands in front of me until my back hits her hallway wall. “I’m so sorry. I heard you calling for me and I thought you were in pain. I swear I didn’t mean to walk in on you!” I blurt out quickly not even realizing my own mistake. Charlotte just stares at me with a shocked and bewildered look on her face.

“I’ll go, truly I’m so sorry about this, Ma’am.” I say with my eyes directed at the floor as I pray my rock-hard erection isn’t as obvious as it feels in my form fitting suit. Right as I turn to run back towards the window I hear her again.

“Wait! Please wait!”

Her eyes are wide as she slowly begins to smirk as I turn back around to face her, my eyes still drawn to the floor.

“I didn’t call out for Superman. I called out for Clark.” She says and I glance up at her with wide eyes as saucers as I realize that I had just outed my own secret. My cheeks blush and I can’t put together a single thought to respond to what she just said.

We stare at each other for what feels like minutes even though it’s only just a few seconds.

“I knew I was onto something. You’re always MIA around when Superman is on the news fighting crime, and you stiffen up anytime I mention him. You also had to leave early because of a “family emergency” on our third date but seemed confused later when I asked you if everything with your family was okay. That was the same night that serial killer was brought to the police station by Superman in Gotham. I…I hope you know that I won’t ever tell anyone, Clark. I thought you knew that you could trust me.” She says and I step towards her while remaining a safe distance.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I do trust you but I’ve had to keep this secret my entire life. I was scared at how easily you caught on. I always knew you were intelligent but I was hoping I could still keep you off of the scent of my deception.” 

“It was really just a theory, but obviously this is my confirmation. Since I’m already more than embarrassed after what you just saw, I guess I really have nothing to lose if I just go ahead and ask you.”

“I’m listening.” I say as I hear her heartrate begin to increase steadily.

“Is this why you’ve held back from me? Or are you even interested in dating me? I’m absolutely fine with taking things slow if that’s what you want. I can’t help my old insecurities that make me wonder if you’re even attracted to me and are serious about taking things further with us.” She says with the sweetest innocence and I can’t help but walk towards her and reach out to stroke her cheek. She pulls for me to sit down beside her and I can’t resist.

“I am absolutely interested in dating you, sweetheart. If you only knew how infatuated I am with you, it might frighten you. You are my dream girl, the one I think about each night, and the one person I feel like truly sees to my soul, even when you only knew half of my identity. I see a future for us, Charlotte, which is why I was scared. I was scared that you would run if you found out who I am. I was scared you then might only be interested in me because I’m Superman. Simple Clark just can’t compete with all of the Superman fanfare. What scares me the most is that you could be used as a pawn by dangerous people. I can’t fathom putting you in harm's way. People could come after me and find you to use against me. Being Superman ruined my last and only real relationship so I guess I felt that if I kept ours in limbo, I could still have the time I crave with you while also not losing you. I was afraid to let you in because of my own fears. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was to not kiss you during our dates or come into your apartment when you invited me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel anything other than absolutely adored. I’m out of my element and have no idea what I’m doing.” Clark says the last part with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Clark, I understand your fears and your sense of self-preservation. I do it too. I often feel like I’ve built the walls around my heart too high in order to protect myself from heartache but each moment I’ve spent with you seems to lower them. I see a potential future with you too which is terrifying and exhilarating all at once because I don’t want to be heartbroken again. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are worth the risk.  I’m not afraid of you, or being with you. I’m not going anywhere. I want you in any and every form and I won’t run away. You are the only person that has made me feel alive again in years.”

Clark smiles triumphantly before leaning down and kissing Charlotte passionately. After kissing her for several minutes, she slowly pulls back to catch her breath.

“So, you’ve seen mine… When do I get to see yours? Fair is fair.” Charlotte looks up at me sultrily as she runs her hands up and down my arms.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” I smirk as I arch my eyebrow at her.

She nods as she sits up on her knees and drops the blanket that was covering her body only clad in a thin white tank top. 

“Only if you want too.” She seductively bites her lip as she trails her fingers down my torso and gently cups my bulge that is swelling indecently against my tight suit. 

“Holy shit!” She murmurs quietly as she presses against my engorged erection and I can’t help but chuckle.

Before I even think I’m unzipping and tugging my suit off of my body at super speed before leaning over her and ripping her tank top from her torso. She squeals in excitement as I lean over her pressing our hot naked bodies against each other while pulling her into a zealous kiss.  

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about having you like this, Lottie. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the moment I saw you.” I say as I touch all over her beautiful body.

“Ditto, which you obviously know since you got a front row seat to my indecent fantasies about you.” She says with a little giggle as I begin kissing down her torso after having already sucked on her pert breasts.

I make my way down her body as I become face to face with her hot, dripping core. I smell the sweet arousal coming from her and when I look up at her for permission she quickly nods as she reaches to caress my cheek. I smirk at her before I begin feasting on her sweet petals and sucking on her clit. 

“Oh my god, Clark!” She almost yells while her hands tug against my hair as she begins gyrating her hips to increase the pleasure she is receiving from my mouth. I continue for a few minutes as I feel her begin to stiffen from her orgasm. I continue to lick her gently through her orgasm but decide that I’m not finished with her yet. I want to give her an orgasm so earth shattering that she squirts her arousal all over my face. She shouts as I shove my finger into her opening, quickly followed by a second one. I curl my fingers and search for her g-spot. 

I know quickly that I’ve found it when her back arches off of the bed and she yells, “Fuck! Clark! Right there!” 

I begin shoving my fingers against the soft spongey spot while my tongue continues to flick over her clit. 

“I think I’m gonna… oh shit Clark! This feels different! Oh my god!” She squeals as her body arches off of the bed and she begins to squirt. The sounds of her squelching and dripping are lewd as I continue to work her through it. Her body almost convulses around my assault and I preen at her filthy moans. I am doing everything to keep from blowing my load on her bed. I watch as Charlotte’s whole body quickly becomes jelly-like as her muscles relax and I lightly kiss her thighs. 

“That was beautiful, baby.” I say as I press small kisses on her hips and abdomen.

“Did I? Oh my god, Clark. Did I just squirt?” She asks as her cheeks are beet red.

“You sure did baby. Soaked my face and almost made me blow my load. Did it feel good?”

“Yes, but I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sor...” She began to say before I quickly cut her off with a kiss. 

“Don’t you ever apologize for that sweetheart. That was a pure masterpiece and I hope I’ll get you to do it again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.” I admit before kissing her again.

“Now it’s your turn.” She smiles as she attempts to push me to the bed. It’s like a kitten trying to push a lion over which makes me grin before I quickly concede and lay on my back. 

“Babygirl, you don’t have too. I’m just happy to give you pleasure.” I tell her.

“Oh no, Mr. Kent. I’m not missing an opportunity to taste you.” Charlotte says as she begins moving down my body. I can barely lay still once she reaches my manhood and I feel her warm breath where I need her most. I groan as I take in the sight of her tiny hand wrapping around my girth as she begins to kitten lick along my length. I groan as she looks at me doe eyed before she takes me in her mouth. She has the mouth of a goddess and I’m already close before she even adds her tiny hand to pump what wouldn’t fit. I reach down and grab her long beautiful hair into a makeshift ponytail so I can watch her. I feel her tiny hand begin pulsing around my balls and groan loudly. I can’t help myself as I watch her steady herself before taking my entire length to her throat. She gags as her nose reaches my skin and she slightly pulls off before doing it again. Saliva is dripping from her chin as she continues working my cock.

“Babygirl, I’m gonna cum. You need to...fuck… stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.” 

She moans around my length as she doubles her effort and the vibrations feel heavenly. That’s all it took for me to reach my high and explode down her throat.

My body shivers in aftershocks due to the oversensitivity as Y/N continues to suck around the head of my cock and massage my balls. I look down and see that she’s swallowed everything and is smiling brightly at me. I reach down and pull her up my body as I immediately begin kissing her breathless. 

“Darling, that was incredible. Thank you.” I smile at her before I kiss down her neck. 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

My mind is empty of every thought due to the alarm bells and “OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” screaming repeatedly in my head. I’m trying my best to play it off, but my fantasy is coming true and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. Clark is not only the best kisser I’ve ever experienced, but he has the body of a Greek God. Well, in this case, he has a body of a superhero. I’ve been doing my best not to sound needy but heavens, I need him inside of me.

“Clark” I say as he continues to press gentle kisses behind my ear and the column of my neck.

“Yes angel?” 

“Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for you to be inside of me. I need you.”

He smirks above me as I feel his rigid cock against my abdomen. It didn’t go soft after his orgasm. “You want me right now?” I nod enthusiastically. 

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart. Take what you want.” Clark says huskily in my ear. For a man who seemed so reserved and shy, he has all of the confidence in the world when it comes to the bedroom. As he should!

I smile wildly as his chest vibrates against my own with a low growl as I reach his hard length and pump him a few times against my slick before pressing him to my entrance.

“Oh my god!”

“Shit!” 

We both speak simultaneously as he seats himself fully inside of me. It feels like he is reaching my lungs as he gives me a moment to adjust around his ginormous cock.

“God, Clark! You’re huge!” 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Clark frets even though he hasn’t moved inside of me.

“Fuck no!” I respond almost breathlessly as I wrap my hands around his biceps tightly. 

“I’ve just never been with someone as big as you. I’m okay. You can move now.”

Clark carefully pulls almost completely out of me before gently sliding all the way back in. 

“Baby girl, you are so tight and warm. You feel incredible.” He says as he starts building up a gentle rhythm. 

“You won’t break me, baby. You can go harder.” 

“I could if I’m not careful, Sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I will tell you if it starts to hurt, I swear. Relax, baby.” I say before kissing him enthusiastically. He reaches and cups my tits in his hands, massaging them gently.

Clark watches me carefully before taking a breath and slamming into me roughly. His pubic bone slamming into my clit making me shriek with the sensation.

“How’s that for harder?” He whispers.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby! Just like that! You feel so good inside of me.” I whine as my hands scratch down his back without even making a mark on his strong impenetrable skin.

“That’s right, sweet girl. I can tell you’re close. Come all over my cock. Squeeze me.” He says as my body begins milking him. 

“CLARK!” I shout.

“Call me Kal, baby. When I’m balls deep inside this sweet pussy, I want you to call me Kal.” He says with the most shit eating grin while never slowing his pace.

“Oh my god, Kal!” I moan just before my eyes roll back and I instantly come all over him.

“Fuck yes, this is the tightest little pussy in the world. So beautiful and wet and snug around me.” He grunts as he continues to slam into me. Before I realize it, he’s sitting me up in his lap so that our chests are against each other and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Clark grabs the back of my neck to press himself even closer to me as I brace my hands on his shoulders. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly become more beautiful….” Clark whispers into my ear as he grabs my ass to help me move on top of him.

“Watching your gorgeous body tremble in ecstasy is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Angel.”

Clark plants his feet against the floor and begins wildly thrusting as I rotate my hips in his lap. His hands are most likely leaving bruises on my hips but I don’t even care.

“I want you to come inside of me, baby. I need to feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill. Please?” I speak against his ear between his heavy thrusts into me and clench down on him at his responding moan. What has gotten into me? I’ve never let a man come inside of me. This isn’t just any man though, and I am absolutely feral for him.

“Only if you come with me.” He grunts.

“I can’t… it’s too much.” I tell him as my body shakes against him.

“Yes, you can, baby.” He reaches between us and presses his thumb on my clit. I cry out from overstimulation but realize I’m almost there.

“Kal, right there! I’m so close!”

“Come baby. Soak me.” He says as he continues to pleasure me and a moment later I have the most blinding orgasm of my life. I swear that I feel like I am floating as I hear Clark grunt and release a deep baritone moan as his warm come coats my inner walls. My body is shaking with tingles to all of my extremities as I am encased in pure bliss. When I finally somewhat come to, I realize I wasn’t just floating from my orgasm, Clark and I were actually floating above my bed. Clark’s head is resting on the junction of my neck and shoulder when I quickly press closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

Clark chuckles as he gently sets us down on the bed. “I guess you would’ve found out my secret eventually. I just came so hard that I literally levitated.” 

I giggle and press my lips to his. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”

“Not at all. I think it’s really cool that you are Superman, Kal;” I say as I stroke a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. “but the man that I have been falling in love with is Clark. He is all I need. The rest is just a bonus. If you’ll have me of course.”

Clark rests his forehead against my own as he gives me the most panty dropping smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetheart. Will you be my girl?”

“I would love nothing more.” I respond with a sweet kiss. The rest of the weekend is spent wrapped in each other.

[kaiser1ns]

#. THE SYMBOL OF MY REGRET, YOU ARE MY BIGGEST SIN

featuring 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

angst. the hatred is a perverse form of affection, and even as you stand there, bruised and broken, both of you understand that this is the only way you know how to love.

tw :: toxic realtionship, physical harm, both parties are aggressive, blood, sadomasochism, takiishi is a warning on his own.

It's toxic, and suffocating, a bottomless pit, a trap without a drop of light. A continual pattern of emotional harm, disrespect, and manipulation leads you to deterioration in mental and emotional health, and you were already broken even before you started dating him.

You were screaming at each other, words harsh and cutting. Slapping him across the face, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you close with a growl. He was holding you tight, almost to break your arm at any moment as you kicked him to create a distance. The apartment was a battlefield, objects hurled and shattered in the heat of from another pointless argument. You threw a vase at him, narrowly missing his head. He retaliated by punching the wall, leaving a dent. Glaring at each other, breathless and wild-eyed, and it was nothing new. That's how your dynamic worked, that unhealthy dynamic, a parody of joy.

You wanted to take back your love and be free but you can't, or more likely you don't want to, refusing to acknowledge your own mistakes. He is strong and extremely tough but you are already used to it — used to him. You loved being in pain, and you loved when you caused pain. Unable to put limits on both of your vicious behaviors and possess the right to be merciless, the main task is to control and punish.

Was it normal for 18-year-olds to be like that, to behave like that? Was it normal to want to kill each other? This wasn’t love; it was a twisted addiction. But the thought of a life without him was more terrifying than the thought of killing each other. If he pushed, you would push back, harder and harder, until one of you broke. And if you had to chase him through every lifetime, hunting him down in every new existence, you would. 

His smile is manic, blood streaked across his face, a disturbing blend of sadism and masochism that few can comprehend, let alone tolerate. But then again, you’re the only one who can handle him. No one else could stand being around Takiishi Chika. No one else would dare. As his lips twist into a grin that speaks of both pain and pleasure as if he derives equal satisfaction from inflicting agony and enduring it himself, he charges at you again.

Meeting him head-on, a collision of bodies and raw emotion. His hands find your throat, and the world tilts as you gasp for air. But you fight back, fingers digging into his hair, yanking his head back until his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to slam your fist into his jaw. He stumbles, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and for a moment, you think you’ve won. You are both broken, battered, bleeding—but not beaten. Not yet.

Your body is like a canvas painted with bruises and blood, each old scar opened anew like a used and worn palette. He isn't looking any better, you are one and the same. You push yourself further, beyond every limit, into a realm where suffering and pleasure blur into one. It's not just the pain you crave; it's the power that comes from embracing it, from turning it into a weapon against him.

Then he’s on you again, a storm of fists and fury, and you’re locked in a vicious embrace, each trying to outdo the other in terms of brutality. His fist connects with your side, and you retaliate with a punch to his ribs. It’s a back-and-forth dance of pain, each blows a showcase to your toxic bond.

His laughter is sinister, almost childish by the way he likes to have fun, as he wipes the blood from his lip. “Is this all you’ve got?” he taunts, voice dripping with disdain. The words cut deeper than any wound he could inflict, but you don’t let them break you. Instead, you let the rage boil over, your vision narrowing as you launch yourself at him again.

"You think you’re so tough?” you spit out, your voice laced with venom. “You’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a man.”

You feel his fingers dig into your skin, nails scraping flesh, and the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into your shoulder. You scream, a raw, primal sound, and it fuels him further. He pulls back just enough to see your face contorted in pain, and his eyes light up with a sick satisfaction. 

Oh, how much he enjoyed it. Takiishi Chika enjoyed seeing you like this, he loved it when you became like him. A monster.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your tear-streaked cheek. You feel the warmth of his mouth as he presses his lips to your skin, tasting the mix of blood and tears. The kiss is far from affection; it’s an act of dominance, of possession. The metallic taste lingers, a cruel reminder of your helplessness.

His grip tightens, and you see the enjoyment dancing in his eyes. Takiishi Chika revels in this, in seeing you broken and bleeding, becoming something closer to his own twisted reflection. Your pain is his pleasure, your despair his delight.

His touch is both a torment and a comfort, a reminder of how deeply you've fallen into the abyss of your regrets. You are the embodiment of his darkest fantasies, as he is your ultimate sin—a symbol of his existence into a cruel mockery of love.

The apartment is a blur of chaos around you – furniture overturned, glass crunching underfoot, the echoes of your struggle bouncing off the walls. You catch a glimpse of yourselves in the mirror, two figures locked in a deadly struggle, indistinguishable from predator and prey.

Finally, you’re both on the floor, exhausted and bleeding, but neither willing to yield. You roll away, gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling as the adrenaline starts to fade. Takiishi lies beside you, his breathing just as labored. The silence is deafening, filled with the aftermath of your war.

You turn your head to look at him, and he meets your gaze, something shining in his eyes; it's euphoric. You know this isn’t over — it never is. This is your life, your reality, a cycle you can’t break. And as much as you hate it, you know you’ll do it all over again because this is how you love. The more you hurt each other, the more you realize how you can't live without him and he can't live without you. A tragic and sinful love story.

taglist :: @kajibunny @slerixx @maruflix @stunie

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[seredelgi]

What gets them going?/ JJK x fem!reader

Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Yuuji Itadori, Kento Nanami, Ryoumen Sukuna

tw: nsfw, 18+, mature content, smut, kissing, making out, sex, raw sex, groping, oral sex, fem! receiving, explicit language, bondage, non-con kink, the sex is consensual tho, spanking, marking, hickies, teasing, edging, dry-humping, possessive behavior

Disclaimer: all featured characters are depicted as adults

There’s nothing Gojo enjoys more than the feeling of you writhing on top of him as he sits on a chair. He can’t resist you when he’s got you on his lap, straddling his hips and grinding on him as a way to relieve all the tension of the day away. You’re flushed and panting, mewling in his ear and almost on the brink of desperation. His long legs are twitching from impatience in response to it. Still, he stares at you in awe, big blue eyes catching onto every flicker of your arousal painting your expression positively entranced by the search for pleasure. The fact that you look for him when in need of it makes blood violently rush through his veins at lightning speed. He pulls you in his arms and slams you on your bed, and from the kind of smug grin plastered on his face when he looks down on you, you can tell you’re in for a wild ride.

Geto gets a kick out of the way you tremble as soon as his teeth sink into your flesh. You gasp aloud, gripping his shoulder and letting your head fall back as your legs wrap around his waist. Oh, how he loves the feeling of you trying to fight the mounting desire, relishes the way you pant in his ear and ask him to be gentle. He’d love to comply, but the feeling of your skin against his tongue is irresistible. You’re smooth, almost silken, and impossibly warm. You smell too good to refrain from leaving marks, and the more you squirm against him, the more you let yourself go to the feeling, he almost thinks he can hear your heartbeat pulsing against his flesh as he sucks on yours. It may be his own need for you that starts to play tricks on him by then, but feeling your heart race like that at what he does to you is the most painful reminder of how much he can’t resist you.

Toji likes to spank you. There’s something about the way your breath suddenly comes to a halt as soon as his palm lands flat against your butt, your trembling hands clutching onto his shoulders and nails desperately digging deep into his muscles as if you could ever hurt him back. He revels in the way your skin coats with delicious little goosebumps whenever his hand smacks hard against your ass, and it sends quiet, greedy shivers of delight running down his spine. He avidly glides his tongue along his bottom lip, and you stare at him with pretend defiance. But he knows you love it as much as he does. It’s clear in the way your eyes roll back as soon as another harsh slap of his on your tender flesh makes you miserably moan in response. You’re high on it as much as he is.

Megumi finds extreme delight in calling you "his". His girl, his dream, the love of his life. It’s not possessiveness at all. It’s just that it enthralls him to remind himself that he’s the one who gets to feel the texture of your skin as it warms up for him. He’s the one who gets to hear your moans of pleasure and feel your nails scratching at his back as he sinks into you. It’s just overwhelming, the feeling of disbelief and fascination washing over him as your pussy squeezes him, sucking him in deeper and milking his cock with your juices. It drives him to the edge of madness to feel how wet you get for him, or to look at how hot you are with your eyes shut and your mouth agape as you scream out his name. And he loves how you shiver as he chants it in your ear when you ‘cum, your cunt spasming shamelessly around him as he drags out the words “ mine, mine, mine”

Yuuji likes it when you run your fingers in the strands of his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp as you whisper to him all the things you’d like him to do to you. Your voice is just a soft murmur as it grazes his ear, sending shivers down his spine, letting little jolts of growing, impatient arousal coursing through his body. He loves it when you’re so unrestrained, so utterly blatant and confident in your needs as to lay them out for him. And he’ll comply with them. He’ll go down on you as many times as you need, however long your pussy requires him to. Until you’re shaking and pearled with sweat, until you’re laying overwhelmed with blinding pleasure and delightfully throbbing before him, silently begging for him to fill you up.

Nanami wants you to say it out loud. Although it’s already clear enough when your breaths start to hitch and in the way your back arches into his touch as his fingers plunge into you deep, but not quite deep enough as you know his cock can reach. You whine and stomp your feet on the mattress, for some reason stubbornly keeping the frustration to yourself. But he longs for you to utter the words instead. It’s not enough to feel your wet walls clamping around him, your slick slit desperately aching for him to sink into you. No. He needs you to admit how desperate you are for him. And so just as you let go of yet another mewl of unfulfilled pleasure against him, he urges you to “ what is it dear? Let it out for me”. And his voice is just too low, too sweet, and cajoling not to give in, then. “ I need you ‘Nami, please, please fuck me” you finally breathe out.

You can cry, you can protest. Sukuna only likes it that much more. He loves to tie you to the bed, your legs wide spread and your pussy dripping from the need for him. He can’t resist the sight, and even if feigned to help sell the fantasy, your meek, pathetic whines of complaint do wonders for his lust. Your voice is so tame, so low and trembling as the rest of you, laying bare before him as he touches wherever he likes. And he doesn’t stop at touching, either. He quite simply ravages you, biting and scratching at your skin as if it were his canvas to defile, his to destroy and call it art afterward. And that’s what he’ll make of you. A perfect fucking masterpiece for everyone else to behold. But for now, bound to your bed and helpless in his claws, you’re his to claim and taste.

So what about the way they kiss you?

Do they get jealous?

And what pet names do they use the most?

What about AOT men?

[blorbocedes]

let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

👇👇👇

👆👆👆

[f3mme-f4tale]

streamer!ellie hc

in honor of watching hours upon hours of julien solomita's streams last year, and coming across some streamer!ellie blurbs, i have become obsessed. so, here i am jumping on the bandwagon.

important info about palestine

⭒ the female version of chrismelberger (i am so right about this one)

⭒ her friends screaming “ELLIIEEE!” and her responding with “I didn’t know that would happen, i do apologize” even though she knew it would

⭒ owns a swivel chair

⭒ “lemme cook chat, lemme cook” every two seconds

⭒ she got big playing legend of zelda: breath of the wild even though she wants to be known for fps games

⭒ says she hates fortnite but then plays it at least once a week. her mains are dbd, rdr2 ("its just cowboy simulator"), and phasmophobia

⭒ yells at children on pubg "get outta here bro!"

⭒ chat is always hyping ellie up, even when she's being rly annoying

user1: spare one crumb pls ma'am

user2: ok hands

user3: shhh ur so pretty when u don't talk babe

⭒ you're one of her moderators and she likes to constantly bully you on stream, to which you just reply with y/nmod: ????

⭒ she loves to randomly send you her merch, especially when you send her pics back of you wearing only her merch. she's so down bad for you, like true simp loser!ellie behavior

⭒ has a mommy kink??? because yes she would

⭒ she begs you to play dbd or phas with her, even though you prefer games like the sims or life is strange

⭒ you tried the lara croft tomb raider games once and now you beg her to try them out because "respectfully, she's so hot bro"

⭒ she finally does, to which she says some pretty... inappropriate things and the entire time ellie's chat is going

user1: huh??

user2: sorry say that one more time

user3: aintnoway

user4: no better than a man

"but chat imagine y/n in this outfit"

y/nmod: choosing to ignore that

⭒ you will get sent tiktok edits of ellie from ellie, bc ego

⭒ she still quotes vines even though its 2024. she likes to say "i smell llike beef" extremely close into the mic and "i wanna be a cowboy baby" when playing rdr2

⭒ she likes to show chat her tiktok likes, but its all cat videos and clips of lethal company

[soaked4mk]

Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown 🤡 HONKAH HONKAH)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

[viridescentelf]

Yandere Masseur - Micolai Introduction

Yandere Masseur x You (gender neutral)

Summary: A masseur you visit often is enthralled with you, planning to take every session one step further.

WARNINGS: 18+, no minors interact!, dubcon, explicit language, explicit sexual thoughts, touching, obsessive, toxic behavior

I chose the name Micolai, sorry lol Laoire is hard for me pronounce

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You were a regular. And you were his favorite.

Whenever he saw your name on his list of clients, he couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. It had to mean something, that you came back so frequently.  

You told him it was due to your stressful day to day life. But he knew it wasn’t just that. You must yearn for his touch. The second his skilled fingers met your skin; he felt you shake slightly at the soft impact.

Micolai had many returning customers. He was the best in the parlor. It helped that he was good-looking, too. But it wasn’t just that, his hands were strong and well-trained.

Older customers complimented his complexion, a light tawny tone he didn’t need to try hard to get. A split second in the sun and his skin absorbed it instantly, drinking in every ray. His black hair curled at their tips, the wavy bangs reaching his strong brows and enveloping his dark chocolate eyes. An, older female customer he didn’t care for continuously complimented his steely eyes. They only softened for you.

Micolai had a way of smiling without his eyes. Most customers didn’t notice. They sparkled for the first time when he met you. It started when he answered the phone and heard your sweet voice for the first time. You had asked for a 60-minute session. Micolai immediately put you into his own time table, curious to meet the siren.  When your eyes met in the waiting room, he had trouble speaking. You literally took his breath away. He left the door open a crack while you undressed, peaking in, excited that you would let him touch you. The first time he felt your skin, he noticed a tremble in his own muscles, an extremely unusual occurrence. No one ever managed to unnerve him like that before.

The madam had given him the biggest room in the massage parlor, since he earned her the most profit. He decorated it to his (and your) liking, adorning the wooden shelves with many candles, dim fairy lights and fake plants. He carried his trusty speaker to his new room and set it up near the table, so he could adjust the volume when he saw fit. You loved the sound of the ocean; you were less tense when you heard waves between calming piano notes in the background. He had a beautiful vase that he used for tips, which was always full to the brim. One day he followed you home and noticed you looking at this particular one in a shop mirror. You hadn’t recognized it, yet. Maybe it hadn’t been what you were looking at in the store.

He didn’t accept tips from you, much to your chagrin. You tried every time. He couldn’t muster up the courage to ask for something else as a tip. One day, he would.

He learned that you loved orchids. Every time you visited him, a new bloom appeared in his room, which you complimented furiously. He wanted you to feel comfortable here. An entire relaxation area – just with you in mind.

Micolai crafted his own massage oil, mostly out of necessity due to the parlor’s cheap oil giving him itchy rashes. It had too many harsh ingredients that clashed with his soft skin. He couldn’t risk losing the smoothness that you loved. He had been experimenting with scents for you. He settled on lavender and lemon, two fragrances that made you moan when the scent reached your nostrils. A sound that drove him wild.

While he prepared the room for the next unimportant client, he wrapped his bathrobe tight around his waist. He only left it loose for you, in case you wanted to see more. You never did, but he was hopeful. When he worked on others, he thought of you. Every second of his day revolved around you, when would you come again? How could he take this further?

Seeing your divine naked form before him… it was like God was tempting him every time. He resisted the violent urge to pull the towel away from you, to see you in all your glory before him. To touch you in your intimate space and swirl out all the stress you say befalls you. He could make it all melt away, with two fingers. With one hand.

He already touched you where he shouldn’t, massaging your glutes and taking it in. The first time he dared this move, you jolted up a bit, but his slick voice soothed you quickly: “Shh, it’s alright. You carry a lot of tightness here. I know what I’m doing.”

This time, he would try to brush his lips against your skin while massaging your legs. For a brief taste. If you reacted negatively, he would claim he slipped in the oil. It was all part of the plan.

Each and every time, Micolai became more daring and more pent up. When you left his room, he had to relieve himself. He did it all over the towels you were wrapped in. Smelling your scent that lingered on the ones you laid on; he busted onto the one wrapped around your waist. His room was far in the back, so no one heard his cries of relief.

It was the perfect area to please you. You could be as loud as you want.

Eventually, he will get to experience every part of your form.

And feel all of you.

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Equivalent Exchange (curse user! Nanami x sorcerer! Reader) SMUT, 18+, MDNI

Kento Nanami's defection was at one point amicable, until a string of very precise murders indicates your former classmate may have taken a turn. Maybe you can help him come back to himself. or....

Ao3 Obviously inspired by all the villain Nanami art esp (@yuutaguro and @ivoreene) this shit got wild ngl. So incredibly OOC its insane.

Content Warnings: ANGST, GUYS SO ANGSTY, lots of manipulation, this is NOT HEALTHY behavior, smoking, kissing, fingering, oral, degradation, slapping, spit, Nanami is being a freak, but you are matching that freak, let's call this deranged by consensual :).

Smoke curls in a paisley storm contained within the shaft of dim golden light emanating from the out of style lamp on the bedside table. A piece of wire had poked out from the lining of the seat cushion underneath you, poking itself into the tender meat of your thigh. The cigarette in between your fingers was nearly all ash, held together only due to your stillness, sloping downward toward the stained carpet below. It must have been ten minutes since you lit it, and you hadn’t moved an inch, not daring to break your gaze on the door. He was an hour and a half late, actually he was 96 minutes and 45 seconds late. 46, 47, 48, 49, 50. He was late the last time, too. Prior to-- everything-- he had been extremely punctual. He had been a lot of things. 

This morning he called out of the blue from a blocked number, his voice rough and betraying nothing of his condition; emotionally or physically. 

“Luna Hotel, under Helmer, 10 o’clock.” 

Your skin went cold, you choked out a small sound of acknowledgement, but before you could speak the line went dead. The line droned, tears stung your eyes; clouded vision and full ears gave you a moment of placelessness, your office, the school, this world dissolving around you. It was him, it was really happening. It had been so long since you had heard his voice, but you could have picked him out of a crowd of thousands if he were whispering.

 It was really happening, your throat tightened but you swallowed down the knot before it could choke you. With a deep breath the tears faded and you returned to your body within your small office at Jujutsu High. Finally setting the phone on its hook, the tone died, making the beating of your heart fill the space left in your ears. It was still early, you had an entire day of teaching to complete, and you couldn't let anyone-- even the most observant among your coworkers-- catch on. Twelve hours had passed in calculated normalcy, externally engaged as always; teaching your class, laughing with coworkers, but internally you had a singular thought. 

You were seeing Nanami tonight. 

Kento Nanami had defected from Jujutsu society eight years prior, following the previous defection of Suguru Geto and, more personally affecting, the death of his classmate and partner Yu Haibara. Initially it was an understood amicable defection, it was unusual but not unheard of for sorcerers to decide to follow other paths. Geto was, of course, an unfortunate exception. You had been able to keep in touch with Nanami as he attended a fast tracked university and got a job working as a finance specialist for businesses both in Japan and internationally. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t around at all anymore, he would attend group events every few months, stop by a birthday party or a night of drinking. But as the time since his leaving went on you saw less and less of him, work schedules and personal responsibilities making it rarer and rarer. Two years ago, he stopped calling completely, stopped responding to text messages and emails. You were beginning to wonder if you should do a wellness check at his office or see if you could find his address. 

That was until you found yourself in an all school meeting to discuss a recent string of murders. Shaking across the table from Satoru Gojo, Ieri Shoko, and the rest of the staff as Principle Yaga detailed how the victims were all cut with a surgeon's precision into various pieces, when Shoko was able to reassemble them the pattern emerged. The disassemblement occurred at a 7:3 ratio at Every. Single. Point. 

The pictures on the table were horrific, gory, visceral, but what brought bile to your throat was the thought of Nanami being the executioner. Your brain couldn't render the image of him killing a human person. You had seen him kill dozens of curses, seen his skill and finesse in real time, but you couldn’t piece that together with the images in front of you now. These men weren’t just killed, they were butchered. 

“What do we know about the victims?” Gojo asked. 

“Wealthy, mostly inherited wealth, all of them have ties to the same organized crime group that we have followed for some time.” Yaga explained, thankful for the chance to look somewhere else than the photographs on the table, “drugs, weapons, human trafficking, you name it.” 

Gojo shrugged and leaned back in his chair, “Nanamin always had an intense sense of justice.” 

He was right, you thought it too, and you were willing to be everyone else in the room thought the same. You still hadn’t spoken, your throat was dry and closed, your brain was too stuck on trying to piece together an image of the man you knew doing this. 

“He did. Vigilante or not…”Yaga continued, now unable to look anywhere but the pictures, “The higher ups have caught wind of this being a curse user, thankfully they don’t pay enough attention to techniques so they’re not exactly sure who is responsible.” 

Yaga stood and added a blurry photograph to the board. Nanami, you could just barely make out his features, his strong nose, his golden eyes. It must have been taken from a surveillance camera before the feed was wiped, he looked right at the camera, an expression of focus and hatred marred across his face. Your heart lurched at the sight of him so angry. No…not angry. Pained. 

“There are laws that prohibit sorcerers from intentionally taking human life. The unregulated use of jujutsu against civilians is cause enough to call for our response. Nevermind the…brutality. ”

Yours and every other pair of eyes in the room flicked to Gojo, he noticed, although he did not let on. You felt your cheeks burn, Nanami was Gojo’s friend, however reluctantly. Gojo had been closer with Geto than anyone else, and now he had been betrayed not once but twice.

“The sooner we…”Yaga’s words caught between his teeth, “react, the better. Reducing the liability of exposure and continued loss of life.”

The meaning he danced around began to set in. They wanted to kill Nanami. They wanted to send someone in this room out there to kill him. Gojo realized it too, starting to argue but his and the principal's voices began to fade, a ringing taking its place, and increasing in volume. Your skin began to go cold. The meeting continued around you, although as it turned to a fight no one seemed to notice your mental absence. You couldn’t let this happen, you wouldn't. 

That night you sent one last email to the last alleged work email of Nanami’s that you had been able to dig up. One that had been hiding his new company’s directory just waiting to be found by you. All it had taken was one call to their payroll department posing as the hysterical disgruntled wife possibly being cheated on by the project manager of Nanami’s team. You used an email of your own that you reserved primarily for spam, business sign ups and the like, one that didn’t have your name or any of your initials, one that no one would associate with you.  

Loyalty doesn’t expire. They’re looking. 

That was two months ago. Until his call today you didn’t know if the address was still active, if he had access to it, if he had ever seen it. But now, after a single call months later, you were in the Luna Hotel room 819 reserved under the name Helmer. Of course he chose that name, strange enough to stick out just the right amount, but anyone looking would find it as a fake, stolen from a famous play. They didn’t know how Nanami had gifted you a copy of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House when you were still in school. How he told you about his grandmother in Denmark who loved it too; how she took him to see it once, probably far too young, on a holiday to visit her. They wouldn’t know what it meant between the two of you. You still had the exact copy he gave you, you must have poured over those pages a hundred times since you had seen him last. That same copy currently sat at the bottom of the small go bag you had stashed under the bed…just in case.

It was approaching midnight, and he still hadn’t arrived. Exhilaration that had been keeping you upright was beginning to wane. The light flickered, your cigarette ash finally fell to the floor, you didn’t care about the carpet, you didn't care about the sleep pulling at your eyes, you didn’t care about the ache of the day settling into your stagnant bones. You were so close, you couldn’t turn back now. 

You felt him before the knock came. The breath vacated your body, his cursed energy filling your senses, tears rushed to your eyes but were quickly cast aside as his knuckles tapped against the door. You stood, but didn’t move to the door. A chime came from the door lock, followed by the whirring of mechanized deadbolt retracting. You fought away the urge to tense up as he entered the room. 

Tall, perhaps even taller than before, certainly wider. He must have put on forty pounds of sheer muscle since the last time you saw him, every inch of him seemed developed. Wide shoulders, sturdy, quiet legs. His hair was shorter, choppier than the neat styled fringe you had been used to. A severe undercut at the back of his neck showed where he had been cut in a healed pink scar. There were more scratches and scars than you expected. You didn’t know what you expected. But it wasn’t this, this wall of strength standing before you now, dark blazer buttoned, small impression on his back where you knew his blade was strapped to his back. Finally you were able to regain the composure to look at his eyes. Golden, honey brown locked right with yours. It could have been the flickering light, or your delirium but you thought you saw them crinkle slightly at the sight of you. Nanami let out an even breath, looking you over once, the door clicking shut behind him.  

“It’s really you.” His voice washed over you like a warm coastal wave. 

“It’s really you.” You echoed, taking in the face you once knew so well, the parts that were different, the parts that remained. 

He stared down at you, the same analytical look on his face, taking in every inch of the woman you had become. You were different than when he had left, you changed your hair-- although so had he, your body had lost its teenaged gawkiness and you stood with so much more confidence than you had before. You filled your clothes better, you were maybe even taller. But your expression looking at him, the shine in your eyes, the flush in your cheeks, it was exactly the same 

“Part of me expected this to be a trap.” He sighed out, unbuttoning his blazer and starting to slide it down his arms, turning away from you briefly. 

As he did, you caught sight of his wrapped knife in its holster. The white and black wrapping was now stained a deep crimson, without your encouragement your mind returned to those photographs on the conference room table. What he had done, and how. How skilled he really was with that blade. You closed your eyes briefly attempting to squeeze out the images. When you opened them you saw him studying you, a silent assessment taking place that you weren’t sure if you were passing. 

“No one else knows where you are?” He asked, voice even and deep. 

“No. I know how to be discreet.” You answered, a bit too quickly. 

“Did you drive?”

You shook your head, “I took the train, paid cash, got off two stops before the closest, walked the rest of the way.” 

“It’s dangerous to walk alone at night.” he chided, tone almost mocking you-- or maybe himself, “Your phone?”

“I turned it off before I left, removed the SIM card, you can check it if you like.” you offered, gesturing to your purse on the table next to him. 

Nanami’s eyebrows raised cautiously, deciding to call your bluff and reach inside. You didn't even flinch, you had nothing to hide, only something to prove. You were mesmerized by his every twitch, the way his hair moved with him now, how his eyes scanned over everything meticulously. Shadows of the Nanami you knew and the Nanami that was captured on those cameras merging together. He pulled your cell phone from your bag, seeing it was switched off, he checked the side for the SIM card and saw it was missing. A small smile itched the edges of his mouth. 

“Nanami I promise, you can trust me. I sent for you, I put my job, my life on the line just to be here.” You wished you didn't sound quite as pathetic as you did when you asked him to trust you. 

Nanami set your phone back in your purse and faced you, “That’s right, you did.”

His face remained pleasant as he took a seat in the same armchair you had occupied. He took up so much more space now, broad and wide, thick and sturdy, his thighs strained the fabric of his pants as he settled in front of you. 

“Take your shirt off.” 

You felt your chest heat up, inching toward your cheek by the millisecond, you shifted your weight. 

“Wh-what?”, you nearly laughed, taken aback,. 

“I need to see that you don't have a bug or a wire or something else.” He leaned back in the chair, one elbow propped up on the arm rest. 

“Kento, I-I wouldn't.” You wanted him to believe you, you wanted him to know that you would never turn him in or put him in danger like that. 

Nanami cocked his head, “You trust me too, right?” 

You nodded. He gestured for you to continue. 

You had changed after work into something neutral, something that would let you blend in and not be noticed as you snuck here. You unbutton your shirt slowly, hand trembling slightly before you swallow and get them back under your control. When you had undone the final button and opened the lapels, revealing your body clad in only your black bra and slid the rest of the shirt down your shoulders and onto the floor. You stood in front of him, feigning your own neutrality, however futile after your previous hesitation. 

“Turn” he instructed. And you did, slowly so he could see your sides and back clearly. 

Nanami gave a hum of approval as you turned away from him completely. You didn’t hear his approach but you felt his body heat as he moved behind you. 

“No weapons?” He spoke softly now, his breath hot against the back of your ear. 

You shook your head. 

“No…”He sounded pleased, “they wouldn’t send you to kill me, would they?” 

You felt his hand on your hip, just ghosting over the surface of your skin. You wanted to melt into him, to weep in his arms, to succumb to every fantasy you held privately in his absence, to berate him for leaving, to beg him to stay. But you stayed still and let his fingers on your flushing skin be enough for now. 

“You’ve always had a soft spot for me, huh?” His hand moved your chin to the side to meet his eyes, nearly black like the eyes of a shark, only a corona of his usual honey brown remaining. 

You nodded, your lips subconsciously reaching for his. 

“So who are they sending?”, His voice returned to the dark, unflappable tone from before.

“Yaga wants Gojo to do it.” the words left you before you even thought, whatever spell or curse or hypnosis you were under sucking the truth from you directly into his mouth.  

Nanami paused for a second, studying your face in his hand, “I’m flattered.” 

Nanami let you go, his eyes flicking down to your lips before truly letting you go. He moved back to the table and opened your cigarettes. You caught your breath and followed his arc with your eyes, unsure of whether you should redress or not. He took a dart from your pack and lit it between his lips quickly. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke anymore.” You noticed his practiced hold, the easy way he inhaled. 

“So did I.” He sighed, sitting back in the chair, “A lot of things I thought were true and proving to have been ....unreliable.” 

You stepped closer, just barely, “Nanami, what happened. I thought you were happy to be out, what was so awful to make you come back… like this?”

Nanami thought for a second, his brow furrowed, the deep elevens on his face that had been present since childhood now much deeper. He took another drag of the cigarette before answering. 

“You don't know these guys….their monsters. All of them.” He shook his head, eyes fixed on memories that were not visible to you, “They want only for themselves no matter the cost, they betray one another, they betray order and decency. And the things they expect from you to join their little ...club” he took another fevered drag, stopping the thought there, “And we, those who can actually do something about it, are forced to benevolently observe? I just don’t understand the point anymore.”

You approached him carefully, he was locked into his own head enough that he wasn’t watching you. 

“I won't protect some and not others. Not on the basis of the humanity of evil. Curse or Human, evil has no place. Not while sorcerers sacrifice themselves left and right while the real dangers are out of our jurisdiction” Whatever atrocity had been replaying in front of his eyes concluded and he finished what remained of the cigarette. 

Sorcerers, Ours, We 

You weren’t sure if he realized it himself, but he was still including himself amongst you. He considered himself a sorcerer even now, upholding the responsibility to protect those who cant protect themselves. You took the filter from him and discarded it on the table, feeling bold enough to reach over him to do so. Still topless you leaned into him on your return. 

“I think it’s noble what you did, Kento.” You confessed, “We shouldn’t have to sit by and do nothing when we can make a real difference. Not when you can.” 

You felt one of his big hands move over the back of your neck, hard enough to keep you in place but affectionately enough to not jar you. What do you have to be worried about? It’s Nanami, he would never hurt you. 

“That’s why you’re here, you want to help, right?” he nodded in time with you in response. 

“Anything Nanami, anything.” You dared to touch the side of his face, feeling his soft even skin. Even now, he was as perfect as he had been in your memories. 

He leaned into your touch, like a wild animal indulging in the first kind touch after unending isolation. He was beginning to believe you, in your devotion, in your loyalty, in your usefulness. 

“Anything?” He hummed at you, pulling your face even closer.  

“Yes.” You could feel his breath on your lips, you could see the freckles on his face, having multiplied in number since last you studied them. 

“Then you have to derail the plans for my execution.” He held you still, no longer inching toward your eager lips. 

You felt your eyes go wider than dinner plates. 

“Lose documentation, mix up data, get rid of photos, anything.” His tone was deadly serious, his grip tightened on your neck, his eyes bore into yours looking for any kind of hesitation, “No one has access to more information in that place than you. I know you can do this.”

Your heart swelled at his assurance, saiting your own fear as it rose inside of you. You looked into his kind, patient face and felt all the apprehension slip away. You finally feel secure enough to ask him the one thing you want the most. 

“Can’t I go with you?” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to never be parted from him again. 

He shook his head slowly, cupping your face so sweetly., “It’s too dangerous. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you, honey.” 

You warm at the title he’s awarded you, his demonstration of care for you. Your joy soars exponentially when he pulls you into his lap, one arm around your waist, the other keeping your gaze locked with his. His thumb strokes your cheek and you feel your cheek whetted by an unannounced tear that has left you. 

“Kento…”You shudder, “why did you leave me. I would have gone with you, you never asked. I thought-- I thought we… had something. I thought you wanted me.” 

“Oh love, I did. I do. I lost myself after Yu, I had to leave, I couldn’t control my anger and I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I wasn’t a man worth loving, especially not by you.” 

“Kento…”

“But I’m here now. And I’m yours.” He looked at you with the same seriousness as when he gave you your instructions, “do this for me and I’m yours forever. Help me keep this world safe, keep you safe.” 

You felt another heavy hot tear spill onto your cheek, “I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Kento. Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t leave me again.” 

“Never again.”  He promised before pulling you in to kiss you. 

His kiss was worth every second you spent away from him. Every sleepless night wondering if your budding romance was gone completely or if you could ever know the warmth of his companionship again. He pulled you even closer to him, now seating you perfectly in his big, wide lap. His hand slid up your back, hot against your skin. His tongue slipped between your lips perfectly to explore the inside of your mouth, sliding against your own, tasting the smoke that lingered inside. You couldn’t help the moan that resounded from your throat, you were too overjoyed. You wanted to indulge in every taste, every sensation, every sound, every inch of this man. Your hands were all over his chest, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, feeling the change in the man you loved. He was the same, his heart, his mind, his bones were the man you always loved, but you relished in the feeling of new, taut muscle under your fingers.  

“I love you.” you confessed against his lips. 

“I love you.” He answered, pulling you in again for another deep, wet kiss.

He tangled his other hand in your hair, the other migrating from your face to grip your thigh draped across his lap. His grip on your leg was firm and sturdy, squeezing the muscle and flesh you had gained since your last encounter with him. 

“You’re a better kisser now.” You challenged, leaning your forehead against his.  

“You taught me well, I improved on your method.” He smiled up at you. 

It had been nearly a decade since the last, first, and only kiss you and Nanami had shared. A night of teenaged drunkenness in the dorm rooms and a fateful game of seven minutes in heaven leading to you and Nanami squeezed together in Gojo’s dorm closet. The darkness made Nanami bold enough to confide that he had never kissed anyone before, and you bold enough to jump at the chance to “teach him”, despite privately never kissing anyone yourself either. The timer had run out all too soon and Gojo pulled the curtain early, revealing a heated, albeit sloppy, makeout to your group of classmates. In your years schooling and working together you had never spoken about it, at least not so brazenly. Time and loss and reunion will bring anything to light. 

“I was lying. I hadn’t kissed anyone either. I just wanted to kiss you.” You simpered against his lips, feeling the hand on your leg move up closer to your ass. 

“You're kidding.” Nanami said flatly, kissing you again. 

Your cheeks heated, “You knew?” 

Nanami shrugged, smiling slyly, “Took a few other kisses before I pieced together that you had no idea what you were doing.”

You laughed out, feeling decade old embarrassment rise in you. 

“Hey,” He soothed, “Who do you think begged Haibara to suggest the game and pick us to go first.” 

You gawked, “You didn't.”

He nodded, “I did. Quite embarrassingly so. I don't think Gojo ever let a day go by that he didn't remind me of it.”

You were touched, elated, so devastated on behalf of the time you lost, but so grateful for the time you could have now. You pressed your lips together again, hands finding purchase in his hair, feeling the crop under your nails. He kissed you with a new fervor, remembering the growing romance he had abandoned, the way you had made him feel all those years ago. His hands moved up your back and found the clasp of your bra, with no words exchanged he undid the hooks and you moved your arms so he could slide the garment off of you. Once you were free you brought your hands to the button of his shirt, eyes closed and too entranced by the kiss to notice the spots of blood that stained the cream colored fabric. He pawed at the exposed skin of your back, down the dip of your spine, over your hips, and up once more to the back of your neck. He pulled back hard, separating your lips. 

“Let me see you.” He ordered, taking in your exposed chest. 

You whined at the loss of his lips, but relished in how closely he studied your body, your breasts, your stomach, your hardening nipples, everything he had longed to see before but was too guarded to ask of you. The hand didn't leave your neck, in fact it slithered around to the front, holding you in place on top of him. You had managed to undo his buttons, revealing his own chest, rippling and creamy in the amber light of the hotel room. You ground yourself down on his lap, desperate to feel his hardness underneath you. 

“No.” He tightened his grip around your throat, stilling you, “Be patient, I've waited years to have you like this, I won't be rushed.”

You nodded as best you could with your throat still in his grasp. 

“Be good.” He warns, bringing you back to his mouth, guided by your neck.

You wait for him to kiss you, wanting to demonstrate how good you can be for him. He leers at your obedience, before sliding his tongue across your lips. Not exactly a kiss, but you accept it so eagerly, the feeling of his spit wetting your lips, the anticipation whetting your desire. It's so possessive, so absurdly erotic it is nearly demeaning. But why should you care, it’s Nanami, your Nanami, you want to be possessed by him. Finally he kisses you again, your and his face both damp. His hand leaves your neck and slides down to grip one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb, making you hiss.

“Sensitive.” He mumbles, pinching harder, pulling a whine from you. 

Heat is pooling in between your legs, you're certain he can feel the effect he is having on you, it would be dripping onto his thigh at this very moment if it weren't for the layers of fabric between your bodies. He grips your other breast, repeating the stimulation to your other nipple, once again relishing in the whines and whimpers you sing above him. You close your eyes and throw your head back, not seeing when he leans forward and latches his mouth to your unoccupied nipple, soothing the pain with soft, generous suckling. His other hand has curled itself around your hips and gripped unabashedly at your ass. Your hands returned to his hair, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. And feel him you did, his hardened length making itself unmistakable under you and Nanami rocked your hips forward, grinding you down on him. He let out choppy, moans into the flesh of your tit, his mouth full and muffled. You saw stars as the sensation of being ground down on his clothed length electrified your swollen clitoris. You had heard saucy gossip from classmates turned coworkers about Nanami “packing”, but you could feel their accuracy as he directed you to writhe against him.

“K-ken..ah!” You huffed out as the bulge pressed right against where you desired him the most. 

He filled his mouth with your other tit and pushed you further down on him, making you keen above him louder. He was so much stronger than you, you couldn't pry yourself off his lap if you had wanted to. Thankfully there was nothing in the world you wanted less. He carried on sucking, biting, circling your breast with his mouth, bringing you to writhing, whimpering putty in his hands. You felt as though you were melting above him. The heat between your bodies building, scrambling your brain into nothing but more..more….more. 

“Fine.” He growled, pulling away from your chest and picking you up to toss, truly toss, you onto the bed. 

The cheap mattress bounced under you as you struggled to sit up on your elbows, only to be met with a firm hand clapping down on your chest, pushing you onto your back once more. 

“Desperate slut can’t even wait for it.” Nanami glared down at you, fire behind his eyes you had never seen before. 

He shed his shirt completely, not shy to give you a show of the muscles and scars he had gained in your separation. Bruised fresh and barely healing splotched across his stomach and hips, what looked like amature, although clean and neat, stitching, keeping a cut on his back together. Your breath stayed heavy as you watched him undress, you didn’t dare move another inch. He removed his pants, groaning as his length that had been straining against the tailored fabric gained relief. Your mouth filling with hungry saliva as you watched him supine on the bed, how he selfishly palmed himself through the thin fabric of his boxers before finally turning his gaze back to you. Your heart caught in your chest at his stony gaze, the annoyed expression between his eyes, the way his jaw set itself as he appraised your position. 

“You said you’d be good. That you’d do anything to help me. And yet here you are on your back panting like a whore after ignoring the first instruction I gave you.” The bed sank as Nanami moved one knee onto the edge. 

You stayed silent and still as his hands undid the clasp of your pants, inching them down your legs at his own pace, noting how goosebumps appeared in the wake of his touch. He watched as you strained to stay still, only allowing your body to move as he moved it, only allowing yourself to be puppeteered out of your clothing by his hands. A sick pride filled his chest at the sight of your heaving chest, still shining wet from his mouth, your hair mussed by the bed sheets, eyes wide and watching him. Your panties were already sticking to your dripping pussy, the wetness seeping through the flimsy fabric and leaking onto your thighs. Nanami joined you on the bed completely, hovering over you, sliding his index finger up from your knee. He met your eyes again, a taunting tilt to his head. 

“Is this what you imagined?” Nanami’s breath ghosted over your lips. 

You weren’t sure how to respond, when you had first imagined what your first time with Nanami was going to be, you never imagined this set of circumstances. You imagined sharing firsts, learning the motions of expressing love physically, you imagined him making you feel wanted, just as you wanted him. Now he was a Wanted man, and you were jeopardizing everything by lying under him, by letting him touch you, by begging him to take you, to make you his. Your silence was answer enough for him, he traced your slit with his finger, it took every ounce of strength you had left to not shiver, to not whine and mewl and beg again. He noticed. 

“Good.” He once again leaned down to kiss you, his tongue quick to invade your mouth, to pull you back into his spell of thoughtless depravity. 

His finger slipped past the gusset of your panties, feeling the sopping origins of the liquid desire spilling onto the sheets. You couldn’t hide the shaky breath that escaped as he penetrated you. His fingers were long and knuckles, just the one seeming to fill more of you than a single digit ever should. He watched your eyebrows scrunch, your eyes flutter, and your mouth fall open. He can see the backs of your teeth, the big buds along the base of your tongue, he finds himself enveloped in the idea of prodding the back of your throat with the tip of his cock, with his fingers, with your fingers, he finds he has all kinds of strange fantasies these days. You clenching around his finger wakes him from his daze, and he's quick to supply you with another, feeling your spongy walls stretch around him, trying their hardest to accommodate his intrusion. 

“mmgph..”You whimpered, rolling your head to the side, not willing to look at him as he began pumping his fingers. 

Nanami looped his other arm around your head, bringing you up to kiss the column of your throat, feeling the muscles strain and flex in response to the pleasure he is so generous to give you. You tried to bury your face in his shoulder, but he held you down firmer. He added a third finger, curling them right against your g spot. You couldn't help but cry out. 

“Agh! Fuck…fuck.”

Nanami growled against your neck, keeping his pumping hand steady. The sloshing sound of your pussy drenching his hand and wrist fought to stay audible as your moans threatened to drown them out. You felt his teeth, first scratching, then biting into your neck. You weren’t going to last, you could feel the avalanche of pleasure bounding toward you, you were going to be lost, smothered, destroyed by the wave. Your body moved on its own, smacking at his chest before curling upward in an attempt to save yourself. The hand around your head pulled you down to the bed as he pumped harder. Fucking you gast on his fingers. 

“No. Take it.” He commanded, watching you struggle under his hold, fighting him, he dug his nails into your arm, “Take it.”

Your vision went white, blocking out the lamp light, the room itself, as you squeaked out in pleasure. Your abdomen shuddered, your legs kicked, you strained against him, panting and whining. He carried on through your orgasm, not letting up until he saw fat, hot tears spill from your eyes. He kept his fingers inside as you came down, watching as you reinhabited your body that for a moment belonged entirely to him. He waited for you to open your eyes, he had always been a patient man. When you finally looked up at him with your love drunk stare, he removed his fingers, privately relishing in the squelch.

“Open.” He ordered, and you obeyed. 

He filled your mouth with his fingers, the taste of your cum all encompassing. His mouth drops open as he watches you suck his fingers, he experiments with you; testing how far you’ll let him push, touching the gummy flesh at the back of your throat, mentally marking how little you gag. Good girl. 

He's so overcome with pride and love, or something close to it, that when he removes his fingers he is desperate himself to bring you into another deep kiss. He feels your body tremble against him, aftershocks racing through you, your hands grip at his body, begging for more, begging to be closer. Nanami can't help but groan as you touch his clothed cock, his tongue still touching yours, the taste of your orgasm and the sound of his pleasure shared between two open, waiting mouths. You trace his length through his boxers, his own hand comes over your own and guides you over the totality of him, tip to base, the warm balls underneath, the spot of wetness at the top where he has leaked despite himself. You look up at him, eagerly awaiting his instructions. He smiles down at you, almost sweetly. 

“Sweet girl.” He coos, seeing the joy bloom in your face, “You just want to be good, don't you?” 

You begin to nod but are cut off by a hard slap coming down on your cheek. No time to dwell on the sting before he grips your face, pursing your lips. The shock of the smack bounces up and down your spine before you realize the pulse throbbing between your legs once more. He squeezes his cock through your hand, letting you feel the same pulse in himself. 

“You’ll do anything for me, won't you?” Nanami’s keen eyes train on you once more, opening his mouth slightly inches above yours. 

You think he is going to kiss you again, but he squeezes your face more, your lips separating in a bizarre pout. He spits directly into your mouth. You’re quick to lap at his offering, savoring it briefly before swallowing it. You feel his cock jump against your hand, he groans at the wanton sight, he's beyond pleased, he is elated. Before you finish savoring the remnants of him in your mouth he has you on your back once again. He rids himself of his underwear out of your sight and positions himself between your legs. He lifts your hips up and holds you level with his pelvis, wrapping your legs around his hips. The shaft of his cock slides in between your lower lips, he coats himself in the melange of your previous orgasm’s release and the new wetness he has pulled from you. Deciding it isn't enough he spits again, this time on your twitching cunt. Nanami marvels at how beautiful he finds the sight of his spit on your body, you wet at his behest, at how beautiful you are under him, your eyes trained on him, waiting so patiently. With one perfect stroke he fills you totally, your hands grip helplessly at his forearms. You arch your back with a whine as you feel the girth of his cock split you open, he is quick to find a pace, his hungered hands taking their fill of your hips and thighs as he fucks himself further into you. His bruising, soldier’s grip nearing fractal pressure, you pull at his fingers, trying to ease his grip on you, offer your body some grace. But he grips tighter, thrusts deeper, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix, his heavy balls smacking against your ass. Your cries fill the room, as does the plap plap plap-ing of his hips hitting yours with devastating precision. 

“Kento…oh fuck…i-its too much, too much!” You writhe, pulling at his titanium strong fingers at your hips. 

“Too much?” He mocks, his hips not missing a beat, “Too much?” 

You sigh in relief when one of his hands leaves your hip, the bruised spots settling. You jolt as that same hand comes down hard on your clit, making you scream, “Nana--Agh!” 

He repeats the assault twice more, letting your screams fill the room before clapping the now slick soaked hand over your mouth. He thrusts himself completely inside, leering over you cruelly as you mewl at being overfilled.  

“Don’t yell my fucking name. What if someone heard you?” 

He’s so deep it feels like he could push out through your stomach, you are barely able to mutter out a small, “‘m sorry.”

It sounds so pathetic you’re almost grateful it's barely audible behind his hand. He keeps his hand over your mouth as he starts thrusting once again, not able to withstand the temptation of your walls hugging him so tightly, you’re so warm, you’re so wet, and you’re all his. He can have you all to himself, the thought alone almost makes him cum. But when he looks down at your fucked out, sweat and spit dampended face, he holds strong. He wants to give you this, he wants to give both of you this. Remind himself that even a murderer like him can find moments of bliss. So perfect, so ready to help him, so eager to prove yourself to please. If things were different he could see this being his eternity, loving you, being loved by you, a life together. But it was too late for that now, he couldn’t go back. He could never get that future back. 

Nanami releases your mouth, his hands instead moving your legs up and over his shoulders, angling his hips deep and deeper, folding your body into a nasty mating press.Your mouth falls open, he’s reaching points even deeper than before, you can hardly stand it, your hands claw at his shoulders. When you are finally able to see after this transition, you open your eyes to find him looking directly at you, gazing in your eyes, fucking himself into you at the sight before him. His body rocks yours, you move as he instructs, leading you from within to match his thrusts. Finally his resolve starts to crack. 

“F-fuck..” He gasps out, his face scrunching, sweaty strands of blonde hair falling from his forehead. 

You can feel him twitching inside of you, it’s as though he is swelling inside of you as he nears his end. You reach up to his hair, tugging, urging him to kiss you. He complies, connecting your lips and rutting into you wildly. The hot, fevered kiss is scored by his moans, gracing your ears, better than your most indulgent fantasies could conjure. For the moments before his climax, there was nothing but the two of you. His body shielding you from the rest of the room, his arms held your legs, the smell of your combined sex filled your nose, the sound of his body on yours, the grunts into your mouth, his sweat on your body, the taste of his tongue against yours. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. 

With a low howl Nanami spilled himself into you, driving his hips forward, pulling your hip up to meet his thrust. He thrusts once more, the pair of you grunting together. You can feel the twitch of rope after rope of hot cum filling you, painting you from the inside. He buries his head in your neck, not willing to let you out of your folded position. When he finally releases you it’s only for a second so he can move your legs from your ears. He pulls out briefly, moving onto his back, collecting his breath. You wiggle briefly, stretching sore, twisted muscles but don’t get too far before Nanami pulls you onto his chest. You press your lips to the junction of his neck and shoulder, his arms wrap around your back, his knuckles grazing your spine. 

The hum of the air conditioner, the buzzing of the bedside lamp, and the pattering of rain against the window fill the silence left behind by your moans. You could hear the drumming of his heart, the leveling back of its usual tempo. His hand stills on your back,

“There’s no one else in the world I can trust, you understand?” His voice is warm in his chest under your ear. 

You nod, “I know.” 

He tips your face up to look at him, “Stay with me tonight?” 

Your heart nearly bursts, “yes! Yes.”

He smiles and kisses you, holding your face, holding you to his chest. It wasn’t an hour or more before you had fallen asleep soundly on him, the weight of the day pulling you into sleep before you were ready. Before you fully succumbed to the sandman’s curse, you thought you heard the words I love you leave him. 

You didn’t feel the weight of the bed shift when he got up a few hours later. You didn’t hear him redress and gather his things. You didn’t hear him reach into your purse and pocket your SIM card. You didn’t hear the door click shut as he left before the sun was set in the sky. You woke up in the hotel bed alone, the indention on his pillow and the ache between your legs the only immediate evidence he had ever been there. Your throat tightened as you smelled the sheets next to you, the fabric just barely holding a trace of his scent. Immediately the phantom memories of his hands on your body, his assurances, his instructions flooded back to you. It wasn’t until you got up completely that you saw the finger shaped bruises on your hip and the note in his neat, familiar handwriting. 

I’ll be in touch. Forgive me. 

Your chest tightened, your eyes stung, but you swallowed down your emotion. You had a promise to keep.

NANAMI IM SORRY I KNOW YOURE NOT THIS MAN. I DONT KNOW WHY ANYONE WOULD SAY THAT ABOUT YOU. Well i hope you guys liked my freak shit! I also wrote about half of an epilogue to this last night that i think clears up some of the context and the tone. I'll post that in the next few days as well. Its mostly with Gojo. OKAY LOVE YOU GUYS THANK YOU FOR READING. --- Doodle <3

[c0ld0utside]

Hi!! Can you write something for the platonic yandere Miguel O'Hara and an extremely aggressive teenage reader?

I sure can!

Yandere Miguel O’Hara with an Aggressive Teen Reader

Warnings: Violence, Miguel being Miguel, Possible OOC Miguel, Manipulation, Possessiveness, Overprotectiveness, Character Death, Kidnapping

When Miguel first recruited you, you were one of the sweetest kids he had ever met, reminding him of Gabriella. You were loud, happy, kind, funny (Actually funny by Miguel’s standards), not annoying, respectful… Best of all, you found solace in him. Like Pavitr, he had recruited you before your canon events happened. Usually, you would talk to him about whatever troubles you had- friends, schoolwork, grades, your aunt and uncle, the Daily Bugle, an annoying villain of the week,…anything.

And like he did with Gabriella, he listened. He cared. He gave you feedback and comfort. It always filled Miguel with satisfaction, you thinking over his words and nodding. It was even better when you didn’t just thank him, but hugged him as well. The first time you did that your fate was sealed.

Miguel monitors your dimension 24/7 while working on other tasks. He makes note of how things are at home with your aunt and uncle, the people you surround yourself with, and what you do when you’re not being a good student and Spider-Person. He’ll gently “push you in the right direction,” telling you that Nathan kid doesn’t sound like a good influence, that he can help you with that pesky math assignment, and that the next time things get tricky with an anomaly you should call him, not Hobie or Gwen.

Time went by and the two of you got closer and closer. You’d bring Miguel empanadas and tell him about your day. A joke your friend Norman told you. About how Eddie beat the snot out of some jerk after school behind the bleachers and you had to step in (Miguel voiced his concerns about Eddie for a good hour after that and how you should “probably” (definitely) stop hanging out with him). What Aunt May and Uncle Ben made for dinner.

You didn’t listen to Miguel, though.

-

You stumble into Miguel’s office, bloodied, bruised, and mask slightly ripped. Miguel doesn’t even make it off the platform- you’re suddenly rushing to him and he’s catching you in his arms. His mind is running wild. You’re hurt- you’re still bleeding, your mask- there’s a deep cut in your shoulder- you’re crying-

Miguel’s grip tightens and he forces his emotions down. “Shhh, cariño,” He whispers. “It’s okay, you’re safe. What happened to you?”

The moment you choke out the name, “Eddie,” he sighs, holding in a, “I told you so” and simply scoops you up to carry you to the infirmary.

You slowly stop hanging out with Miguel after that, focusing more on catching anomalies and your own dimension. Every time you show up to HQ you’ve changed in some way. Your suit has a new design, your tone isn’t as optimistic as it used to be, and your jokes are suddenly dark.

Miguel notices that the anomalies you bring in are always hurt in some way. It ranges from minor cuts, bruises, and scrapes, to full-on swollen eyes, deep gashes, and sometimes broken bones. To say that he’s worried is an understatement. What happened to you? Why won’t you talk to him anymore? When did you get so brutal?

The others come to him with concern. You snapped at Pavitr while getting lunch. You made a snide comment at Gwen the other day. You dislocated a Goblin variant’s arm when he was already down. Had it not been for Hobie’s quick thinking, you would’ve dropped a Kraven variant to his death.

Miguel starts coming with you on missions. He always stops you from going too far, hissing about how you could ruin a universe’s canon with your behavior. How you're going too far. The look in your eyes each time he scolds you makes his stomach hurt, but he has to do it. You drift further away from him and the others.

His worry skyrockets even more when you start coming back injured. That’s when Miguel decides enough is enough. He calls you into his office after you come back with several small tears in your suit, injuries, and an anomaly with an unrecognizable face and broken legs.

Miguel sighs your name, tone heavy with disappointment and concern. “¿Qué haces? What is it with you?” You don’t respond, fiddling with a rip on your left sleeve. “Di me, tell me what’s going on. You used to tell me everything and then you were gone. I’m scared, cariño. I’m scared that I’m going to lose you.”

"[Name], promise me you'll come back home. I can't lose you, too. "

Of course, Miguel already knows what’s happened, but he can’t let you know that he knows. He needs you to tell him, but you don’t budge. If you tell him, you won’t change for the worse. It was a 50-50 chance- you going down a dark path or getting back up again. Like every other Spiderman. Like a hero.

He says your name again, soft, pleading, parental.

“[Name],” Aunt May had whispered.

Miguel’s stunned when you snap at him. When you curse at him, telling him to fuck off and mind his own business. Telling him that you’re not Gabby and that you don't want to be some replacement. That he's not your father or your guardian or anything and he never will be.

Miguel processes with a wounded expression. His sadness and shock turn into anger, and then snaps at you.

“Don’t you ever speak to me that way again, understood?” Miguel snarls. “I can’t believe you. I can’t- you- you know what? Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re not going on any missions, nor are you leaving your room until you tell me what the Hell is going on with you.” You refuse and start to walk away, only for Miguel to pull you towards him harshly and bite down on your shoulder, venom taking effect automatically.

“I’m not losing you,” Miguel murmurs, adding a soft apology as he starts to walk.

—

Miguel keeps you locked up in the guest room of his apartment. The windows are bolted shut and he was smart enough to remove anything you could use to break the glass. You’ve tried punching and kicking, but that never worked. Miguel always checked up on you. Sometimes even spent the night when he knew you needed company.

It was frustrating, the way he told you that it was all for your own good and that if you’d just talk to him he’d let you go outside. … With supervision, of course. He brings you snacks and your favorite food. Even dessert if you’re behaving. He’ll tell you that the others miss you- that he misses you. He misses the way things used to be.

It’s frustrating how you rely on him for everything now and you have no emotional outlet aside from talking to him.

So you set your frustrations on your pillows and mattress instead.

When Miguel gets back and enters your room, he takes in the mess and sighs. “If you wanted to sleep over, you could’ve asked, cariño. Remember when you used to ask me all the time if you could?”

Can the old you come back to him, please? Even if it’s just a little bit? Can you just trust him with everything again?

Will you ever trust him again?

You still refuse to tell him what happened. How Eddie became a symbiote’s host. How Norman became your universe’s Green Goblin. About your Uncle Ben getting shot. About your Aunt May getting killed in the crossfire of a fight between you and the Green Goblin. About Jameson firing you and how you got kicked out of school since no one was able to pay your tuition fee (Which Miguel would have done if it wouldn’t have possibly disrupted your canon).

How you didn’t want to bother him with your issues. How you couldn’t see any positives like you used to. How you wished the two of you could hang out at his apartment, have some deep conversation, and become official found family.

You threw that fantasy in the trash, but the can hasn’t been emptied just yet.

Because Miguel was always there for you. And he’s here for you now.

You just need to let him back in.

“…Miguel?”

"Yes, mi cariño?"

-

Nah because how can every Spiderman go through so much angst and somehow not be even more fucked up than Miguel? Especially the younger ones?

Hope it was to your liking, I really liked this request!

Criticism is welcome, you look lovely today, and remember to take care of yourself!

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously. 

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea. 

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well. 

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is. 

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch. 

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically. 

“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along. 

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes. 

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs. 

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard. 

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location. 

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him. 

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late. 

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head. 

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide. 

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape. 

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists,  to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs. 

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed. 

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it. 

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval. 

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him. 

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you. 

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling. 

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear. 

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.  

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg. 

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum. 

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted. 

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can. 

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight. 

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

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