#but it’s just a nice little treat when he gets all pretty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sewersaga · 13 hours ago

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HOPEDRUNK EVERASKING: moze, jing yuan, aventurine x reader

header art creds: nixeu on patreon! pls go support them bc this is almost exactly how i picture reader lol

pairings: foxian reader x unnamed individual (for the plot,) foxian reader x moze, foxian reader x jing yuan, foxian reader x aventurine(end game), (all separately but in the same timeline she's an old slutty fox ok)

warnings: implied sa/coerced sex, trauma tm, sexual cotent (the closest i'll EVER get to smut, too much yapping, none of the pairings except the last one are healthy so if you're a moze or jy stan idk what to tell you, no names are used on purpose but it's pretty obvious who's who, the first man is not a canon character!! read this for more context on the last few paragraphs

word count: 11.5k

When you were a little girl, you dreamed of a fairy tale romance.

You’d hide your face behind your books, pretending to study the various medicines and their uses so not as to fail your tutor’s harsh examinations, but your mind was worlds away. Back then, nothing was off limits, nothing too selfish, too rash, too inconceivable.

Yes, a noble youth would indeed one day sweep you off your feet, and take you far, far away from this life filled with pressures and scorn. It was a naive little dream, but it was all yours nonetheless.

At night, awake amongst your schoolwork and your notes, you’d imagine what such a man would be like. He had to be handsome, of course. Charming. Being rich would be a nice bonus, too.

He had to be able to make you laugh when the expectations of your family made you want to curl up in a ball and cry. And when you inevitably shattered, he’d have to be willing to piece you back together again.

When you were a young adult, freshly graduated and bright eyed, you learned that real life romance didn’t work that way. You couldn’t just conjure up an image of your ideal suitor and expect him to materialize before you like magic. Still, your heart had an irksome little tendency to attach itself to the wrong people.

The first one came to you, bruised and bloodied.

Battle had wrought upon him its fair share of injuries, crimson red in various states of drying smeared upon his tanned skin. Despite his condition, the only wound you were tasked to stitch was a small gash on his chest, a few centimeters below his collarbone.

Despite not being new anymore, the contusions your brother assigned you to treat were nothing more than busy work for someone of your knowledge. You got the feeling he wanted to keep you as far away from the horrors of war as possible, but one didn’t need to see dying men to hear their mournful cries.

The man winced as you stitched his laceration closed, casting his gaze somewhere behind you, fixed upon the dead and the dying that surrounded him. “Did you need more painkillers?”

He blinked, turning back to you as if remembering your presence. “No. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Oh,” You spoke softly, your hands never halting their ministrations. The wound was small enough that you were already almost done, and considering his overall condition, the pinching pain of the needle was probably the least of his worries. “You flinched, so I thought I was hurting you.”

“It’s not you,” You felt his gaze upon you, and hyper focused on your work, you refused to look into his eyes, afraid of what you might find there. “Have you ever seen a patient die?”

You stopped abruptly, his sudden inquiry leaving you sufficiently rattled. “What?” You looked up, but his attention was elsewhere, focused upon the other wounded patients in various states of agony. Realizing he wasn’t going to elaborate and meant exactly what he had asked, you sighed. “Not one of my patients, no. But in this line of work, people are always going to die.”

He laughed, and you bristled, tying off a surgeon’s knot with more force than intended. “Aren’t you too young to be speaking like that?” He craned his head to look down at you, his tail swaying slowly behind him with mild amusement. “How old are you, anyways?”

“Not much younger than you,” You replied, beginning the final stitch. “Haven’t you ever learned it’s rude to ask a woman her age?” He chuckled again, and you poked the skin of his chest. “Stay still, or I’ll never finish.”

“What if that’s what I want?” He asked, rather brazenly, and you shook your head almost subconsciously.

“I don’t care what you want,” You tied off the final knot. “And unless you want to end up like those dead patients you care so much about, make sure to keep this clean.” You put your instruments to the side and he leaned back, letting out a sigh of relief. You realized then that despite what he had said, the process had been rather painful, if not uncomfortable at the very least. “And try to stay alive, alright?”

“Sure, sure. I look forward to seeing you again.” He stood up, stretching with a light groan despite the mangled state his body was in. You watched him limp away with mild horror as he threw you an absentminded wave.

“You won’t.” You stated resolutely, but he was already too far down to hear you.

He was right, of course. You saw him again on many, many different occasions. Sometimes he’d have a minor wound that just absolutely required your attention. Other times he requested a consultation with his favorite medical professional over whatever splendid meal your brother and the other cooks had prepared for dinner. The night he stole you away from the camp, you realized you’d fallen for him.

You watched him under the waning moonlight, sharing a bottle of rice liquor he’d somehow taken from the field hospital. He’d worked his way into your heart rather easily. But it wasn’t a bad thing then, your vulnerability, your propensity to fall wholly and completely.

“You’re such a liar, [Name].” Despite addressing you directly, he didn’t meet your gaze, his own fixed upon the stars.

“What do you mean?” He took a swig of liquor. There were so many stars that night.

“You act like you don’t give a shit,” You scoffed abruptly, snatching the bottle from his loose hold. The liquid burned your throat. You weren’t yet used to drinking, and your mind felt clouded with a heady sort of fogginess. “But you care about every single one of those patients more than anyone else.”

“I don’t.” You shake your head, blinking away your disorientation. You stared ahead, and your head felt so heavy that your body began to lean upon him almost subconsciously. “I don’t care.”

“You’re a liar,” He repeated, much softer. His hand cautiously wound its way upon your back to adjust you to an upright position, but found itself more comfortable around your waist. You didn’t move, nor did you complain. “It’s not a weakness, you know. Caring about people.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You spoke bitterly, but hardly above a whisper. He was so close then that you could hear every breath, feel the rising and falling of his chest. He lifted the bottle to his lips with a shaking hand. “If I care about them, and they all die, then what does that leave me with?”

“Your heart,” He was so close then. Your head felt so heavy. The stars were blurry and bright. “Your empathy. Lose that, and then there would really be nothing left of you.”

“You have the wrong idea of me.” You were hardly aware of the way you were nuzzling yourself further into his side, conscious only of the warmth of his body, and barely of the words he spoke almost directly into your ear.

“You can say that, but you know that I’m right,” The hand around your waist pulled you closer into himself, as if such a thing were even possible. Your vision was hazy, and every sensation felt amplified. “I like you, [Name].” You parted your lips to respond, but they were met with the mouth of the bottle that he held to your lips. You swallowed as he tilted it upwards, no longer feeling the pain of its acrid taste upon your tongue. His free hand found your chin as he set the bottle somewhere on the ground beside you, wiping a stray drop of liquor from your bottom lip.

“I like you, too.” You said those four words for the first time, your face in his tight grip. He kissed you, tasting like rice liquor and fallen stars.

He wasn’t anything like that imaginary lover you’d dreamed up as a little girl. Not even close. But still, you loved him, and he needed you.

You had information he didn’t have, secrets discussed in clandestine rooms by ailing officers receiving treatment. You had a body to keep him warm at night, his grip upon you as tight as it was that night he kissed you under the stars. You gave him everything you had, even when the only thing you wanted was to be left alone.

Or, perhaps, the only thing you wanted was to be wanted. It didn’t matter, because everything soon came crumbling down, coating you in ashes and stardust.

There was so much death, so much destruction. Had you known he was working with them you would have never—

But you had. You had unknowingly done the worst thing you could have ever done. And it was already done. They were already dead. There was nothing you could do to save them.

So, you had no choice but to leave. Traitor, rogue, fool. All of these descriptors could be attributed to you. But they could never call you a liar, for you had never loved him with anything less than your whole heart.

The second one appeared to pull you from the endless shadows of the abyss.

Some years after the disaster, you remained in the most desolate corners of the Yaoqing in an impromptu self imposed exile. Every night you’d lay down restlessly, tortured by the cries of the dead and damned echoing in your ears, and every morning you’d wake up with their blood between your teeth. It was an unbearable sort of existence, but every cell of your being knew that you deserved it.

And you knew that you weren’t the one who suffered. Not really. You knew it was your cross to bear as the one responsible to live with the guilt of what you had done. Running away was selfish enough, and you found the endless punishment of remembering your misdeeds each and every day to be more than fitting.

And thus you punished yourself, every single day. Cold river baths, freezing nights spent underneath the elements, deadly medicine trials. You’d do anything to feel a fraction of the pain and suffering you’d indirectly wrought upon others.

Yes, you’d continued to hone your skills even under such circumstances, collecting medicinal herbs and creating various antidotal elixirs in the subconscious hope that one of them would kill you. It was a self centered, cowardly wish, but it was all yours nonetheless.

Each night you spent in exile, those long dashed dreams of romance turned into feverish vignettes of death. It teased you, seduced you relentlessly, and each time you awoke in a cold sweat, wasting away further and further by the day. Your obsession with self deprivation quickly grew out of hand, and you hadn’t realized how sick you were becoming despite the evidence making itself known upon your person.

One night, you danced with death itself. It held you like you were the finest treasure in the world, kissed you like you were too good to give up. Death dripped venom upon your lips, and you swallowed it like sweet ambrosia.

And then, it disappeared into nothing, crow-feathered and equally as fleeting.

You didn’t wake up that morning. Or the next one. Or the morning after that.

They told you that you’d been asleep for five days. The kind folks of a small village on the fringe of the Yaoqing had diligently cared for you, patched up the wounds from your exposure to the elements and nursed you through your medicine and hypothermia induced fever.

They didn’t know who you were, of course. News traveled slowly to this region, and to them, you were simply a weary, sick traveler in need of their aid.

It took a while to get them to tell you how you’d ended up here in the first place. Your impromptu research “base” had been far from all facets of civilization, you’d made sure of that fact. And of course, you weren’t exactly in the state to ask many questions when you’d first woken up.

Once your fever had finally broken, the woman caring for you became candid about the good samaritan who’d saved your life. “He was an odd gentleman. Didn’t say a single word. Dark clothing, hood over his head, ashy hair. Brought you here cradled in his arms like you were a treasure.” You weren’t sure how to respond.

You left early the next morning while the village was asleep. The night was so quiet, and with the whispers of your deal with death at your heels, you made for the forest from whence you came.

It took an entire day to make it back to your previous spot. Whoever the man was who brought you to your caretakers had to have had either superhuman speed, strength, or both. Not to mention the gall to disappear before you could thank him properly.

It didn’t matter. Now that you were healed, you were ready to settle into your old routine.

But you realized while collecting some herbs for an antidote that it seemed a little odd to continue your pursuit for reprieve when someone, mysterious as he may be, had put so much effort to drag you from the abyss with his bare hands.

Almost subconsciously, you dropped the handful of plants you were holding. Your body moved on its own while your mind remained preoccupied, searching every dark corner of the area for some sort of sign. The wind obfuscated your search, rustling the leaves of the trees, and your shadow taunted you with its insistent presence as the sun set in the westward direction of that little village.

Having thoroughly run through your options, you stopped in the middle of a clearing. You noticed for the first time after your long day of travel that you were exhausted, and suspected that perhaps you hadn’t fully healed from your bout of illness. Instinctively, your gaze drifted to a patch of the herbs from earlier just a few meters away from you, the bright flowers seeming to beckon to you. You stood up, intending to heed their call. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to—

“Looking for someone?” A quiet, almost uncertain voice spoke from the farthest reaches of the clearing. You froze, lithe fingers brushing against the leathery petals of the poisonous flower.

Frightened and suddenly hopeful, you glanced over your shoulder only to find no one there. You turned your attention back to the flowers, and the wind pummeled at your back with unknown urgency. A ghostlike tap on your shoulder, and you turned around to find him standing behind you.

Tall, hooded, clothed in dark hues, and ashen haired, he looked exactly as the woman had described him. Despite having shown himself to you, there was an air of insecurity to him, as if he was unsure of exactly why he’d done what he did.

Still, he tilted his head at you inquisitively, seemingly content to stay silent until you’d given him an answer.

“Yes,” He didn’t react, continuing to stare at you in that odd, unreadable way. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” He returned your question, his gaze flickering toward the patch of foliage behind you. “And after I took you all that way to the village.”

“It was you.” You responded incredulously rather than answer his question. “I’ve been wanting to thank you, but they say you disappeared before I even woke up.” You tilted your head at him, mirroring his actions. “Why?”

“There was no further need for my presence.” He stated bluntly, once more glancing behind you. You fidgeted with your hands behind your back like a guilty child. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Oh,” You were sufficiently caught off guard by his lack of willingness to allow you to skirt around the question. “Well, I thought I might have left some things back here. Medicines and such,” You unwittingly and rather tellingly gestured to the plants that seemed to be so very intriguing to him. “Just wanted to come back and check.”

“Wrong answer,” He stated matter of factly, and your eyebrows furrowed. “You didn’t have much with you, but I left all your belongings and medicines with the villagers.” He blinked, his expression as unchanging as if he hadn’t completely called your bluff. “I made sure to warn them that one dose too many could kill the average Foxian.”

“How did you manage to carry me and my stuff too?” You quickly redirected the conversation, crossing your arms over your chest and sincerely hoping to distract him from discovering the real reason behind your return.

“Simple. I have pockets.” He showed you the insides of his cloak, which were indeed outfitted with handy storage pockets. “And you aren’t exactly hard to carry.”

You reluctantly decided to continue your interrogation, much to your shared dismay.“Well, how did you find me here in the first place?” This particular question seemed to succeed in making him uncomfortable and he blinked quickly, seemingly caught off guard. “And why did you bring me there?”

He closed his eyes momentarily, sighing resignedly. “I just happened to be passing through. You were unconscious, so I brought you to the nearest village.” He turned over his shoulder, walking back in the direction of the wooded area. “You ask too many questions.”

“Well, thank you.” You called after him, quieter than intended. He didn’t respond.

He made it a few more steps towards the dense thicket before stopping abruptly, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to follow me?”

You hesitated. “Where?”

“Back to the village. You’re still sick.” He stated as if his intentions were entirely obvious. You blinked, incredulous.

You followed him back, of course, complaining and bitching. Because he was right, you were still sick. And he had to carry you most of the way there, which was rather awkward because this time you were actually conscious.

But the main reason you allowed him to take you back to the little town was because he hadn’t properly answered your question about why he even saved you in the first place. Because there’s no way he simply stumbled upon you in the middle of a desolate forest, far from the rest of humanity, to say nothing of cell service. A part of you wondered if he just wanted someone to be indebted to him.

You weren’t sure, but you didn’t get that impression. He was blunt, but undeniably kind, stolid, but somehow charmingly awkward. And if testimony from the villagers was to be believed, he was most talkative around you and others could hardly receive even a grunt from him.

And after profusely thanking the kind folks that had so selflessly cared for you in your hour of need, and a week’s worth of well needed rest, you felt significantly better. Of course, your physical condition was back in good shape, thanks to a superfluous amount of meals cooked by your host and devoured by you (and that man never seemed to have an appetite, if the amount of his food he tried to discreetly add onto your plate meant anything,) and you regained some common sense.

Yes, after some time with the villagers, who were entirely content with living a simple life far out of the reaches of the Xianzhou modern conveniences, you learned three simple truths.

The first. What use were you to anyone if you suffered until you were nothing at all? You quickly busied yourself with day to day tasks—doing laundry, helping make meals, treating the scraped knees and skinned elbows of the children—and you learned that the better state of mind you were in, the more you could do for others. And that mysterious companion of yours seemed to have a sixth sense for whenever your guilt and self-loathing began to take over, and was so good at distracting you that you didn’t even know you’d been distracted until your attention was successfully diverted. Sometimes at night, plagued by images of the horrors you’d seen unfold before you, you’d hear rustling by your bedside. Thinking you were imagining things, you’d close your eyes again, only to open them blearily and find him standing by the window, his back towards you. You didn’t know why, but the fact that he stayed with you even then made it easier to fall asleep.

The second. Isolating yourself made things impossibly worse. Your unfounded fear that everyone could smell the evil on you and would treat you like a pariah was proved false daily by the kindness of your hosts, who treated you like a member of their own family. And even when the villagers left you alone, that crow feathered weirdo remained stuck to you like your shadow. As annoying as it may have been at first, it kept you away from your own thoughts, even if you were just sitting in comfortable silence.

“Do you ever even sleep?” You asked one night across the still darkness, his back turned to you as he gazed out of the small window at nothing in particular.

“I don’t need to.” He didn’t turn around, but you knew you still had his full attention.

“Everyone needs sleep.” You teased lightly, tiredly.

He sighed. “Let me rephrase that. You need to sleep more than I do.”

“I think I’ve done enough sleeping,” He didn’t respond, but you caught him glancing over his shoulder at your form in the small makeshift bed, sitting upright amongst the pillows. “Do you want to sit with me?” You weren’t entirely sure what possessed you to ask. You were even less sure what possessed him to agree, fixing you with an uneasy stare before awkwardly sitting beside you on the pallet.

You stayed up the entire night talking. Or, rather surprisingly, he did most of the talking. Neither of you discussed anything important, but his calm company was soothing, and as he spoke quietly of ordinary things, you found yourself closing the distance between the two of you. You moved gently, slowly, and at the same pace he unstiffened, allowing you to rest your head upon his shoulder.

You fell asleep like that sometime during the early hours of the morning. And perhaps you were dreaming, but you swore you felt a gentle hand stroking your hair as you drifted off.

And thus, the third truth was the most frightening. A part of your heart had attached itself to that man, for as eccentric as he was, he never left your side. At first, you attributed your feelings to the sole fact of him having saved your life, but as the days crawled on, that irksome flutter in your chest persisted. And the more time you spent with him, the more he began to talk, and the more you began to listen. You were never any good at that before. But with him, it came as naturally as breathing.

The first time you kissed him, he melted into you.

He had been laying beside you on the pallet, having become more comfortable with the casual intimacy and reassurance the two of you shared. Your faces were close, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breathing fanning across your face, how it quickened when you brought a gentle hand to the cut of his jaw. You spoke his name softly, and it seemed like he stopped breathing completely. “Thank you.” You whispered across the pillow. Then, you pressed your lips gently to his.

Yes, he melted into you like it was something he was waiting for his entire life. And perhaps it was, because his existence seemed like a terribly lonely one. And every time he shut his mouth for fear no one would listen to a word he had to say, the piece of your heart he carried with him wrenched in his hand.

He held you so tightly that the both of you feared if he let go you’d shatter. You were the first to relinquish your grip.

You left the village after a nondescript period of time, preemptively mourning the loss of the simple life shared with its inhabitants and your unorthodox benefactor. You’d all mutually decided it was the best decision for you, and although your next destination was as of yet unknown, you found yourself caring for the implications of the future less and less.

It wasn’t out of a sense of nihility, though. In fact, it was quite the opposite, for that man who stayed by your side day in and day out had managed to possess your thoughts enough that you were unable to think of a future that didn’t have him in it.

So, you traveled, sticking vehemently to the fringe towns on the outskirts of the Yaoqing where whispers of the current events of the more inhabited areas were few and far between. You slept beside him in their various inns or in the houses of generous townspeople, his watch by the window relinquished for an insistent focus on the way you breathed while you slept.

You didn’t really know your way around your homeland, having only left the city on the grounds of your self banishment. So he led the way, sometimes carrying you, always holding your hand as you forged an unknown path with no destination in particular.

At least, that was the impression he had you under.

“Looks like we’re getting closer to civilization.” You commented offhandedly, having just checked out of a month’s long stay at a riverside inn. The place had been lovely, and you relinquished your cold baths for warm soaks in the hot springs (which had taken an insurmountable amount of convincing for him to join you, which he only did when you reminded him that you had already seen him naked, a fact that left him sufficiently flustered.)

He simply grunted in response, and you furrowed your eyebrows, for he usually was more than willing to entertain even your most frivolous remarks. Yes, something was different that day, and he’d hardly spoken a word to you despite maintaining a loose hold on your smaller hand. “Am I allowed to ask where you’re taking me?”

He didn’t answer. Your stomach twisted as you came to a horrifying realization. How stupid you’d been to not realize—

“We’re heading towards the city, aren’t we?” Thinking aloud, your words were less of a question, and more of a conclusion. He stopped abruptly, lowering his head. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I didn’t know how,” He spoke almost shamefully, his gaze still fixed upon the earth. “You know it’s what’s best.”

You dropped his hand, betrayed now that he had finally confirmed your suspicions. “I don’t know that. You know I’m never going back there. Who sent you? I should’ve known that they would do this.“

“[Name],” He turned to face you. You didn’t say anything. The wind rustled through the trees. He sighed. “It was General Feixiao. She—“

“General? So she’s a general now?” It was your turn to cut him off, scoffing bitterly with your venom tipped canines on display. “A promotion or two, and she’s sending her crows to take me back there. I should’ve known.”

“I don’t know what you think you know, but you’ve got it all wrong.” He almost looked hurt, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter. All of this to bring you back to the place you never wanted to see again, and to think you’d fallen in love with him—

How foolish you’d been. How idiotic for you to have been led astray by that wind that rustles feathers and claims naive hearts.

Dusk approached. Your shadows lengthened. “I’m leaving.”

“If that’s what you want, then I can’t stop you.” He spoke, sounding bereaved. You wondered if he knew he still held your heart in his hands, the pumping blood cascading through his lithe fingers.

“It is.” Perhaps you were a liar, for you knew what you wanted at that moment, and it wasn’t to leave him here, hope-drunk and silently begging you to stay.

And it was your duty to deny yourself of the things you desired.

You walked back into the direction of the woods as the sun set, the abyss claiming you once more. Your dreams dissipated like shadowy wisps as he left for the city, taking a piece of you with him.

And you left, as you’d promised to do, for you’d never lie to him the way he had to you. Not ever.

The third one offered you wisdom in a golden chalice, and you drank it gratefully, the warm wine burning your tongue as it slid down your throat.

The Xianzhou Luofu was positively the last place you’d ever expect to end up following your retreat back into the darkness. But alas, you had concluded that as long as you stayed on the Yaoqing, there’d always be someone trying to drag you back from whence you came. And you weren’t going back there, not ever.

Getting there was the first challenge. Luckily, some of that man’s directional expertise had rubbed off on you, and you managed to head due south, following directions from the inhabitants of the places you stopped along the way until you made it to a smaller port city.

When you smuggled yourself amongst the cargo on an unattended ship— something that would likely be next to impossible these days, you suppose— you had no idea where the vessel’s final destination was to be. You could’ve ended up on an entirely different planet for all you knew, and you didn’t care. The only thing you knew for certain was that you had to go, and it didn’t matter to you where.

And you’d definitely underestimated the difficulty of the trip. You thought after traversing almost the entire perimeter of the Yaoqing, you could handle anything, and frankly, you had incorrectly concluded that you were small enough to hide comfortably on the cargo ship.

You’d been terribly wrong. And funnily enough, you also failed to consider what would happen if the ship wasn’t as unattended as it had been once it finally arrived to its recipients. Luckily, it wasn’t a very long trip, but it was long enough to bring that thought— along with a sense of insurmountable dread— to mind.

And how incredibly stupid of you it had been to fall asleep halfway through the ride.

You were shaken awake an unknown amount of time later by an uncomfortable prodding. You sat up straight, fluffy ears standing at attention. You rose fast enough to hit your head on a nearby crate, and looked through hazy eyes at a pair of Cloud Knights, one staring at you with alarm, the other seeming amused. “This piece of cargo wasn’t on the shipment list.” The latter sheathed his sword, the hilt of which must have been that mysterious poking that had woken you from your deep sleep.

You blinked the shock away, recovering as fast as humanly possible. “Double check that list. You must not be looking close enough,” You deadpanned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, stretching out your legs. “Gonna tell on me?”

His companion spoke, a hand resting nervously on the hilt of his own blade. “We’re required by nature of our job description–”

“I don’t give a fuck about your ‘job,’” You groaned, standing up, brushing the dust and cobwebs from the peachy fur of your tail. “Are you turning me in to your boss or not?”

The nervous, younger looking Knight turned to his companion for an answer, who shrugged in response. He turned back to you, and despite the bite to your voice, you realized you likely looked thoroughly disheveled and even more exhausted despite your little cat nap. In fact, if you could see his face, he likely would be looking at you with unadulterated pity. “Zhi Peng, look at her. We can’t just…”

“Haitao. Zhi Peng,” A deep, coarse voice sounded from the distance. Both knights startled, sharing a brief glance that remained unreadable behind their helmets. “What’s so interesting over here?” The man known as Haitao cursed under his breath. Zhi Peng looked like he was about to wet himself.

“What do we do?” You whispered, but neither man responded verbally, and while Haitao shifted to cover your smaller form, Zhi Peng remained frozen in place, horrified. “Is that your supervisor or something?”

Haitao simply nodded. “What are you two doing?” The supervisor called, and his voice sounded closer.

Your eyes widened with fear. Haitao cursed again. “Just stay quiet.”

“Zhi Peng, tell me immediately what is happening?” The supervisor hissed, and you heard the meek knight in question let out a strangled cry that sounded oddly like he had been grabbed by the breastplate of his uniform.

“The cargo. There’s a stowaway in the cargo.” Zhi Peng managed through a choked voice, and there was a thud as he was released upon the ground. You scoffed quietly, your sharp canines digging into your bottom lip. Didn’t take the fucker much pressure to cave in, did it? Although you did feel bad that he’d been tossed around on your behalf.

“Haitao. Is this true?” The knight who had you trapped beneath his form glanced once more at you, and then at his officer.

Then, he grabbed your arm tight enough to bruise, shifting to reveal your presence. “Yup. Found this little fox hiding amongst the military shipments.”

“Mother fucker.” You hissed. His grip on your arm tightened as he dragged you in the direction of the disembodied voice that you’d heard earlier, which belonged to an even larger man in a slightly different uniform. Just your luck to get discovered by the most spineless little grunts out there. You couldn’t have been captured by an officer, or even a general?

The larger man scrutinized you, his shielded gaze lingering upon you for longer than you were comfortable with. “I know who this is.”

You blinked. “That isn’t possible.”

“Yes, it is. You’re the nurse that deserted the Yaoqing army all those years ago,” You froze. So he did, indeed, know who you were. Again, just your fucking luck. “We keep close military contact with our allies.”

“I prefer ‘medic,’” You deflected, shooting Haitao the nastiest look you could muster as you attempted to wrench free of his grip. “Even ‘practitioner' is acceptable.” The man refused to relent, and you let out a noise akin to a snarl as your bicep began to burn.

“I don’t care what you are,” The officer brushed you off as easily as swatting a fly, and your eyebrows furrowed with further annoyance at being treated so trivially. “Do you two remember your orders for a fugitive situation?” He addressed his two underlings, who vehemently nodded with a chorus of yes sir’s.

“Fugitive situation?” You protested, unable to ignore the way Zhi Peng flanked the unoccupied side of your body. “That’s not what this is.” The other soldier grabbed your other arm, although significantly gentler than his companion.

Ignoring your objections, the officer continued to deliver orders to his men, who began to march you behind him as you headed somewhere entirely unbeknownst to you.

You asked quite a few questions on the way there. Where are you taking me? Am I going to jail? Will there be a bathroom? Are you sending me back to the Yaoqing? I’m hungry. Although the last of which was more of a statement.

The point being that none of your objections nor your questions received competent answers. And the moment you reached an area you would later learn to be called the Exalting Sanctum, the soldiers on the other side of you promptly let go of your arms. Before you could even massage the pain of their grasp away, their officer had grabbed you again. “You two are dismissed. The General will know what to do with her.”

The knights bowed respectfully to their supervisor before departing, both sparing you a second glance over their shoulders, one you met with a look that hopefully conveyed just how much you despised them. Once they were out of earshot, the larger man grabbed you by the back of the neck. “Now listen here,” You yelped as he leaned down, his gruff voice directly in your ear. “The General has requested you be brought directly to him for whatever reason. I personally couldn’t give less of a shit what happens to a traitor like you, but clearly he finds you useful in some way,” You were unable to control the tear that spilled from your watery eyes at the pain of his large hand tightening around your neck. “So you better not fuck this up for yourself, alright?”

You didn’t move, warm teardrops streaming down your ruddy cheeks. Realizing he wasn’t going to relinquish you until you responded in some way, you nodded, with quite a degree of difficulty considering his hand was still indeed wrapped around your neck. He released you, and you fell to the ground, coughing. He didn’t wait for you to catch your breath before taking you inside.

“General,” He led you up the carpeted stairs in the General’s office, the deep red color suddenly foreboding as the man’s words echoed in your mind. What use could the General of the Luofu possibly have for you if not to punish you for your desertion? You were so stupid, in fact, in a lifetime of stupid decisions, this was by far the stupidest thing you could’ve ever done— “I’ve brought the Yaoqing’s fugitive.”

The Cloud Knights stationed along the landing of the stairs didn’t spare you a passing glance as you approached the General’s desk. The man let go of you, instead shoving you in his direction before bowing chastely. “I know it’s been a while since we discussed the protocol for her discovery, so I thought I’d bring her here for you to decide what to do with her.”

White haired, long-lashed and heavy-eyed, the General regarded the man before him with complete disinterest. “Thank you,” His gaze landed upon you, the sorry state you must have been in, and his serene expression faltered momentarily. “But, please, remind me where in the protocol it states that it’s acceptable to treat a woman so barbarically,” Slowly, tiredly, he rose from his desk, approaching you where you stood shakily upon your sore feet. “It’s deplorable.”

For the first time, your impromptu captor was speechless. “Sir, I…”

“No explanation is needed. You can expect further disciplinary notice in the next few days.” The General refused to even meet his eye, his attention instead focused concernedly upon you. “You are dismissed.”

He didn’t say anything to you immediately upon the other man’s departure, still scrutinizing your visible condition— the bruises on your arms from the Cloud Knights, the dirt and dust still clinging to your clothes from the cargo ship— and you sighed. “Am I under arrest, General?”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “Not at all.”

“Then what’s my punishment?” You shrugged, shifting your weight. “You know, for treason.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and for some reason you got the feeling that you two were each having completely different conversations. He gestured to the chair behind his desk. “Have a seat.”

“That’s your chair.” You raised an eyebrow, and he simply nodded in confirmation. Realizing he wasn’t going to continue until you sat down, you sighed, doing what you were told. Your feet were killing you from being cramped up for so long, anyways.

Once you had made yourself comfortable, he began to speak. “You’re not under arrest, nor are you receiving any punishment.”

“Then why did you request for me to be brought here immediately upon my capture?” You fiddled anxiously with the fabric of your clothes, anticipating his response. “With all due respect, General, sir, it’s a bit confusing.”

He stared at you for a moment, unreadable, before suddenly bursting out into boisterous laughter. “Ah, it is, isn’t it?” Your mouth fell open, surprised by his swift change in demeanor, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Allow me to explain. I’m well aware of your talent as a medical practitioner. And considering that you currently owe a debt to the Xianzhou Alliance’s military, well…” He gently rested his palms upon the desk, leaning over you in a way that was more expectant than imposing. “We’d like you to work with our branch of the Alchemy Commission.”

“Me? Work for the Alchemy Commission? That’s all?” You were unable to suppress the breathless, incredulous laugh that escaped your lips. “Forgive me, sir, but that’s a rather light punishment.”

“I already said you weren’t being punished.” He raised an eyebrow, simultaneously amused and concerned. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know. But there’s one thing I don’t want.” You bit your lip, considering the possible ramifications of telling him exactly how to torture you most effectively. “If you don’t intend to punish me, then don’t send me back there.”

“Right. You were rather lucky to end up here, aren’t you?” He chuckled once more, and who knew the Luofu's General was so good-natured? You supposed a man like that needed some entertainment to liven up his day. But it wasn’t going to be you.

“I wouldn’t call it luck,” You scoffed bitterly, absentmindedly moving your hair from behind your shoulders. You saw his eyes widen in shock, and realized with embarrassment that your subconscious movement had exposed to him the bruise that the brute of an officer had left from his grasp upon your neck. “Oh. Ignore that. That officer of yours got a bit too handsy.” You shrugged, despite the tears you’d swallowed down after the initial incident threatening to rise back up in your throat.

“That seems to be putting it rather lightly, don’t you think?” His good mood was effectively dashed, his worried gaze fixed upon your neck. Suddenly self conscious, you moved your hair to cover it once more. “And rest assured, after his behavior today, he is no longer any officer of mine. That isn’t how my men operate.”

You scoffed, recalling the behavior of the low ranking Cloud Knights before you’d even met the officer. “If you sincerely believe that, you don’t know your men at all.” You gasped sharply upon realizing the ramifications of your words, quickly backtracking. “Forgive me, that was incredibly disrespectful. And I’m already in this position—”

“It’s alright. I suppose I do have some more work to do on the ground as opposed to sitting up in this stuffy old office all the time.” He sighed, offering you a small, reassuring smile.

“Sir, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this place is beautiful.” You gestured to your comparatively luxurious surroundings. “Not exactly what I’d call ‘stuffy.’” Anything beats that dusty shipment container.

“Anywhere can become stifling if you spend enough time there. Beauty has nothing to do with it. I’m sure you know that just as well as I do.” He laughed awkwardly, almost self-deprecating. “Ah, look at me, rambling on again. I’ll alert your supervisor at the Commission of your arrival. Your lodgings will be arranged at a nearby inn, so go wash up and get a good night’s sleep.” He reached for a spare piece of paper that rested upon the surface of his desk, quickly scrawling the name of the inn for your reference. “Your work begins at sunrise tomorrow.”

You gingerly took the paper from him, folding it gently before sliding it protectively into the pocket of your shorts. “I don’t know what I did to deserve such generosity, but thank you. Sincerely.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You’ll pay off your debt soon enough.” He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. Neither of you moved. As if realizing the impropriety of his actions, he quickly retracted his arm, instead offering you a small nod. “Go.”

You rose from your— his — chair and made for the exit, already envisioning the hot shower and warm inn-cooked meal you were going to have. Suddenly remembering the constraints of respect, you froze halfway down the stairs, turning to offer the General a stiff, clumsy bow.

You left with his almost-fond chuckle at your heels, intending to scrub the remains of your idiocy from your skin.

The Luofu branch of the Alchemy Commission was significantly different from the one back home. Although the work hours were just as insane, its employees genuinely enjoyed their jobs, if your master was anything to go off of.

Dark brown haired with cutely pointed ears and deep ruby eyes, Lingsha was incredibly skilled, and just as well-composed. She smelled lovely, too, a fact you noted as she showed you where each of the supplies were located. As she explained the rules with which the Luofu’s branch operated, you found your mind wandering elsewhere, wondering what kind of woman you’d be if only you had a calm spirit, to say nothing of impulse control.

“I diagnose ailments a bit differently. I’m sure you’re familiar with aromatic therapy?” Lingsha spoke as she stood before a presently empty cauldron. A nice, herbal scent lingered around it, and you concluded that she had to smell so nice from working around aromatics every day.

“Yes, we use it quite a bit on the Yaoqing. I’m definitely not as skilled as you are, though.” Your intentions on your first day were to emphasize your competency without seeming too confident. The last thing you wanted was for your new boss to think you were trying to outshine her in any way.

“Anyone can learn, and you already have the background, so don’t worry about that.” Lingsha had mercifully not seemed to glean that impression from you, treating you with kindness despite you really only being there to work off a debt wrought by your own stupidity. “I can’t teach you how to utilize the cauldron, though.”

You nodded, offering her a small, grateful smile. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Despite your feigned eagerness to get on the job, she tried to breach a different, non-work related subject with you come lunch break. “You know, I once traveled far from home too.”

Unimpressed, you chewed your braised pork. “Really?”

“I followed my master when she was banished. It was quite jarring at first, but I learned so much and improved my craft.” She picked at her food with her chopsticks, seeming to favor attempting to connect with you over shared circumstances more than eating.

“I see.” You, on the other hand, did not much enjoy having your meal interrupted by useless talking, no matter how good the intentions behind it may be.

She sighed, noticing your unwillingness to converse. “All of this to say, I understand how you feel.”

Do you? You found yourself wondering, almost shamefully, for the woman’s intentions were clearly to make you feel more comfortable working away from home. But being young and irrational, you couldn’t help but believe your situation was undeniably unique.

Of course, it wasn’t, nor were your experiences anything special. And realizing this, you kept your mouth shut, simply nodding in respectful acknowledgment of her statement.

You finished the rest of your lunch in silence, your new mentor finally recognizing that you weren’t quite in the mood for conversation. You did, however, catch her sending a few fleeting glances your way, sometimes concerned, sometimes curious.

The first day of your impromptu apprenticeship ended with barely any further words exchanged between the two of you. You parted ways with a few polite goodbyes, and you beelined for the closest restaurant with a myriad of conflicting thoughts swarming your mind.

And the work did get significantly more bearable the longer you did it. Even the early mornings were alright, considering you had to get up in the wee hours of the morning back as a medic for the Yaoqing. Not to mention, with the minor ailments being the only ones Lingsha initially sent your way, you felt like you were back at the army hospital with your brother stifling you beneath his scrutinizing glare. It was all rather banal.

You weren’t the only one bored almost to death by day to day work, however.

The first time the General stopped by your office for a check up, you were on your best behavior. Convinced he was only there to observe your progress, you prepared to conduct a thorough examination that addressed all of his concerns.

“So, you’re telling me you’re experiencing extreme drowsiness.” You read from your notes, taking this far more seriously than you should’ve. He was indeed a patient, after all, and an important one at that. Even if he was just bullshitting you, you were under a medical obligation to heed his concerns.

“Yes, doctor. My eyes are simply too heavy to hold open.” He spoke dramatically, although you got the sense he was holding back a laugh.

“I’m not a doctor,” You simply stared, incredulous. “And there’s not much I can do for you in that regard. I can make you some tea?”

“Tea would be lovely,” He smiled up at you, although even with him being seated you were nearly at eye level. “Come to think of it, I have the most wonderful tea set at the Seat of Divine Foresight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit of a walk from here, don’t you think?”

“If you don’t want to travel all that way, I can bring it here.” He rose from the chair, towering over you once more as he made for the door.

“Oh, you wanted me to drink the tea with you?” You began to follow him, and he sent you a mirthful glance over his shoulder.

“You were the one who suggested it after all.” He noted, almost offhandedly, and you paused to consider the offer.

“Well, I suppose I could take a lunch break right about now.” You also supposed that he’d never intended to leave the clinic without you, anyways.

Agreeing to let him steal you away from your duties was a mistake. Because one lunch break became two, which became three, which became entire shifts once you realized Lingsha could easily handle the steady trickle of patients herself, and the General would always provide her an excuse for your absence— however ridiculous it may be.

You met with him a few times outside of those sleepy afternoon hours, too. Once he realized your passion for fine Luofu cuisine, and having an impressive appetite of his own, he took you to all of the best spots, and watched you fondly as you inhaled your meals. You’d share drinks afterwards, and without fail, he’d walk you back to the inn, sometimes with a gentlemanly hand hovering over your back so your tipsiness didn’t get the better of you on those tricky stairs.

And that was all it was, communion, camaraderie. Until the night you invited Lingsha along for dinner and drinks by way of apology for shirking your duties.

You had far more of that familiar rice wine than usual, likely due to anxiety that the woman in question hated you for your truancy. After a few shots, you were limber and loose, your inside thoughts spilling from your tongue as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The General, despite his size and tendency to be able to hold his liquor, seemed a bit more far gone than usual, too, if the way he laughed and spoke quite louder than usual in response to your jabbering was anything to go off. Lingsha, in contrast, drank slowly, mindfully, sipping at her beverage while eyeing the two of you with a mix of concern and amusement.

And neither of you really noticed when she gracefully ducked out, citing her early shift in the morning as her reason for departure. Your witty banter continued, your knee brushing his beneath the table, his much larger hand resting atop yours on the wooden surface.

You kept drinking, of course. And things progressed. Very quickly. And you were, as always, horribly stupid.

You remember him paying the bill, taking your hand as you stood up, swaying on your feet. The night was humid and starless, the condensation in the air contributing to the haze in your mind. He had a loose arm wrapped around your waist as you started in the direction of the inn.

You remember, rather boldly, asking instead for a tour of his place. You remember him agreeing.

His house was quite spacious. You stumbled past the entrance and he caught you, laughing intoxicatedly. You didn’t make it past the kitchen before he had you leaned up against the counters, his face centimeters away from your own. He was saying something, but your brain wasn’t registering. Rather than responding, or even asking him to repeat himself, you raised up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Yes, things did progress rather quickly from there.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t remember— or enjoy — anything you partook in. In fact, you recall being rather entrenched in bliss as he had you pinned beneath him, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips to pull him impossibly closer. Your long nails clawed at the skin of his back and you were too far gone to tell him it was too much, or not enough, you weren’t really sure. Whatever the sensation was, it was incredible, your toes curling as he mouthed at the sensitive skin at the junction of your neck, a deft hand sliding between your bodies to push you over the edge.

It was too much. And it wasn’t enough.

You woke up the next morning, somehow satisfied, moderately hungover, your face having been buried in his broad chest. Naturally, he was still fast asleep, breathing serenely beneath you as long lashes brushed against his cheeks.

And naturally, you sat up, oriented yourself, dressed, and left.

It wasn’t anything you’d ever done before; slept with someone you cared about and left without another word. But you had a feeling it was the only way to do this without ripping yourself apart again, without leaving a piece of yourself behind beneath his once-pristine sheets.

And despite the way every single thing between the two of you had been turned on its side after a single night, you found yourself sitting behind his desk once more during your lunch break as he smiled down at you, gaze lingering on the poorly concealed marks just above the neckline of your shirt. You tugged it upwards as you’d been doing all day, but it was no use, for he leaned down to kiss you as if there weren’t numerous guards stationed around the entrance.

And you let him, like that’s how it was between the two of you all along.

Which was to say that those breathless nights spent at his place after work became a frequent occurrence. And when you’d show up early to work the next morning, half asleep and abnormally chipper, Lingsha would only raise a suspicious eyebrow before telling you to rewash your hands and get to work.

“I’ve always been quite curious if a Foxian’s sense of smell is as refined as mine.” Your mentor commented offhandedly after the two of you had just seen off a young Foxian patient who was experiencing abnormal tail shedding. Lingsha had performed some aromatherapy and sent the poor girl home with some oils to apply to the area on a strict regimen.

You shrugged, your fingers absentmindedly and protectively rubbing through the silken fur of your own tail. “I wouldn’t say ‘as refined,’ but I’ve certainly got a good nose.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, peeling off her gloves. “Really? So can you detect the scent of other people on yourself?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as your hands continued working through your fur, unsure of the relevance behind her line of questioning. “Sometimes.”

“So, you must be well aware that you smell entirely of the General.” Your ministrations froze.

You turned slowly to face her, only to see her expression as unchanged as before, examining her pristine cuticles as if what she’d said was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s not an unpleasant smell, it’s just so overbearing that your scent is layered all the way at the bottom.” She diverted her attention elsewhere, assuming an air of nonchalance as she began to rearrange her bottles of scented oil. “What did you do, roll around in his bed or something?”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to close it once more. “...No comment.”

“Aeons above. There’s my answer.” Lingsha groaned, setting a glass vial down with slightly more force than was necessary.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.” You responded coyly, the embarrassment giving way to an unfamiliar yet deep seated urge to make her even more uncomfortable as a twisted form of deflection..

“That’s not entirely true. I want some answers.”

And boy, did you answer her many, many questions. In fact, the remainder of your lunch hour was spent detailing the progression of the affair between you and the General. You were mildly disappointed that you missed out on spending the time with him, but you figured you could make it up to him in a rather meaningful way later that evening.

Besides, the look on Lingsha’s face as you spoke— an amalgamation of shock, incredulity, and curiosity— was well worth it. And if the woman didn’t trust you before, she sure did now that you took the time to describe your sex life in intricate detail— in response to her insistent prompting, of course.

You met up with him that evening. And the next. And the one after that. And despite your habit of slipping out in the early hours of the morning like a creature of the night, you stuck around one morning.

It was the dawn of your weekly day off, and you were positively exhausted from work and a myriad of other, irrelevant things, no thanks to the man who slept soundly beneath you. And even though you’d slept well enough yourself, you couldn’t help but feel restless as your cheek rested against the bare skin of his chest.

You knew this was casual. It didn’t mean anything. Both of you understood that. But as you watched him sleep, your thumb absentmindedly tracing the mark beneath his eye, something familiar stirred in your chest. You didn’t want to leave.

The feeling persisted as you ate breakfast with him, neither of you acknowledging just how far from the norm this was. It intensified as you stepped into the shower beside him, unwilling to leave each other alone for even half a system hour. It threatened to swallow you whole when he brushed your hair, large fingers raking through the damp strands as you leaned into his touch, horribly infatuated by the whole situation. When he kissed you in the pavilion after you walked him to work, you felt like you were drowning.

What a stupid woman you were, you thought as you sat on the arm of his chair, his free hand wrapped around your waist as he pretended to focus on whatever dull paperwork sat on his desk. When the Master Diviner walked in, his grip tightened despite the look of unadulterated distaste she sent your way. “I had something important to discuss with you, General, but it seems you’re presently occupied.” Her words were dripping with acrimony, but you were too far beneath the waves to care.

He hummed without sparing a glance towards the small woman. “Yes, I am presently inundated with paperwork,” His large palm slid further downwards, digging into your hip behind the desk. “If it can wait, we can discuss whatever it is at a later time.”

The woman blinked, inhaling sharply at the shameless display before her. “Fine. I’ll come back at a much, much later time.” The General’s gaze remained fixed on the paper despite his attention clearly being elsewhere, if the hand caressing your backside said anything. “Or never.” Fu Xuan muttered to herself as she left, likely wishing to take her brain out and wipe it clean of the last five minutes.

The more he made it clear he didn’t care who knew what existed between the two of you, if anything, the more you fixated on it until it was all you could think about. You’d been burned once, twice, by relationships wrought by your own selfless devotion, and you’d fallen into this one while caught in the throes of your own greed. So perhaps, it had to be a sign that this could work?

And no matter how hard you tried, you could not stop yourself from craving his complete affections, in sharing every aspect of your life with him. Even though he was so often unreadable, you knew deep down that a part of you had stuck with him. You only prayed it was significant enough to last.

One night, you held his face in your hands as you straddled his abdomen, and despite holding some of the control, you let him take everything from you that you had to give. When the both of you were thoroughly satisfied, he kissed you like you were his, and in all ways but one, you were.

Your mouth didn’t give either of you much time to bask in the afterglow, for the moment you’d shifted to untangle yourself with him, it spoke without your common sense’s consent. “I’ve been thinking.” Perhaps this was a bad time, but you supposed there never was an ideal one for these sorts of conversations. At least you’d waited until he wasn’t inside you any longer.

“Have you?” He said, his voice still low and rumbling in a way that made you shift uncomfortably atop him. “What about, my dear?” He pulled you down so your chest was flush against his, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your temple.

You let out a quick gasp, trying to disguise the way his affection had left you reeling. “Us.”

“What’s there to think about?” He responded good-naturedly, teasingly tugging at your tail.“We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but…” He clearly hadn’t yet grasped the seriousness of your train of thought, for his wandering hand abandoned the fur of your tail to grab a handful of your backside. “Hey.” You warned, swatting it away as he laughed, unashamed. “I guess I should start by asking this. What do you want from me?”

He blinked, his expression sobering as he finally caught your drift. “Whatever you’re willing to give.”

You scoffed. Despite your heart hoping otherwise, you should’ve known he’d dance his way around your questioning, ever-skilled at circumlocution.. “That’s a cop out.”

“I still don’t understand what you’re asking.” He clarified gently, his hands rubbing soothingly up your sides. Your annoyance deflated significantly, your body welcoming his touch.

“Fine. I’m asking if you want me to be your girlfriend. Partner. Whatever you want to call it.” His hands halted their ministrations as he looked up at you, his expression indecipherable.

“Where is this coming from?” He spoke after a beat had passed, tilting his head at you with what seemed like genuine confusion. Whatever it was angered you, because if he really had no idea what you were talking about, he must have been fucking you with his eyes closed. Because it was clear as day to the Cloud Knights, Lingsha, Fu Xuan, everyone who saw the two of you together, what was happening.

“The fuck do you mean, ‘where is this coming from?’” Your annoyance morphed into a sense of betrayal, spilling from your mouth like murderous venom. “You take me out to dinner multiple times a week, I sit in your office all day like your little pet, I practically live at your house.” Then, the betrayal melted away to hurt. “And still, I can’t tell exactly how you feel about me. That’s where it’s coming from.” Your sentence ended far softer, far more vulnerable than you intended it to.

And he noticed, for a large palm came to cup your cheek in his hand, ready to wipe away the angry tears that threatened to fall. “[Name]—“

You pushed his hand away. “Answer my question,” You intertwined the hand you’d used to reject his touch with his own, still unable to part from him no matter how obstinate you felt he was being. “We can take things slow if that’s what you want. No labels, or anything. I just need to know how you feel.”

You’d barely finished your sentence before he pulled you down to kiss him, slow and sweet. “I thought it was abundantly clear how I felt about you,” He spoke almost against your lips, your fingers still laced together, pushed up against the headboard. “You’re an incredible woman, [Name]. Witty, headstrong, beautiful,” His free hand brushed your bangs away from your face, coming to rest once more on your cheek.“But I cannot give you that which you desire.”

You hesitated, blinking confusedly at him.“What do you mean?”

“You know what you want, a trait that is inexorably admirable,” He paused, his gaze flickering away from your own to collect his thoughts. “But I know who I am, and it won’t be any good for you.”

Another cop out. Your canines dug into your bottom lip as you felt the pressure of your returning tears behind your eyelids. “You’re not being truthful.”

“I am. I only want the best for you.” So that was how it was. Fine. You weren’t going to embarrass yourself any further by crying in front of him. You had lost so much in that moment, but you couldn’t let go of your fragile pride.

“I think I should go.” You dropped his hand, leaning back upon his thighs.

He swallowed, looking reluctantly away from your watery eyes. “Perhaps that may be what’s best.”

You left that time, defeated and embarrassingly heartbroken. But it didn’t stop you from going back to him quite a few times, somehow convinced that what you desired deep down would change. But never once did you expect him to mold himself to your expectations, shouldering the blame for the failed relationship all upon yourself.

You were foolish then. For believing you could ever rid yourself of the desire to be loved wholly and completely. For believing you could change yourself rather than choose a different man to love. For suppressing your own heart beneath layers of impenetrable armor.

He taught you many things about yourself, rather inadvertently. You learned you could be alright on your own. You learned that love and sex were a gamble, a way to gain leverage on others without revealing the vulnerability that lay within your own losing hand. And you learned to stop denying yourself of the superficial little things you wanted, because you’d concluded that your heart’s deepest desire could never be fulfilled.

These lessons were incredibly valuable, and you held them close to your heart even as you sat aboard the mysterious Astral Express, gazing out the window at the vastness of the universe with your palms laying defeated in your lap.

The fourth one took you entirely off guard, two lightning strikes in an open field, an asteroid upon a barren planet, a winning ticket out of a million losses. The chances of finding him in this life were astronomically low. But he was miraculously, blessedly lucky.

Alisa would know more about this than I do. That is the thought that always crosses your mind in situations like these, when you watch him on the rare nights he sleeps peacefully, and something in your chest overwhelms you so much you fear you might die in his arms. You’d spent ages telling yourself you were never meant for love, and that little girl’s dreams of a fairy tale romance were never yours. But here you are, not only deeply enamored, but literally engaged, evidenced by that bewilderingly expensive gemstone on your ring finger.

You can’t help but feel like you’d experienced everything in your life just for this terribly mundane moment, if not just for the way he looks fast asleep.

And perhaps you know more about love than you care to admit, for you’d proven your past self wrong on several occasions. You were alright on your own, sure, but you are far better with him by your side. Maybe you’d gambled your way into his heart, but your vulnerability is no longer a weakness. And now that you have the one thing you’d always desired, everything else is background noise.

He means everything to you, you realized then. He is your heart, your ultimate weakness, your one in a million. You couldn’t leave this time, for there is nowhere else to go.

You rotate the gold band on your finger absentmindedly, curling yourself even further into his body. He subconsciously pulls you closer, and you hide your face in his chest, smiling fondly to yourself. You hope he knows he’s stuck with you forever now. This love is blessedly and irrevocably yours.

#beeswax #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #moze x reader #jing yuan x reader #aventurine x reader

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fantasybuff3186 · 3 days ago

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Werepapas

Heres the werepapas post like I promised, I dont have much to say though but I do have something to say anyway here I go.

So for a start, I actually watched this episode before daddycop even though I should have done the opposite but I was pretty excited to see his grandparents so I bit and I wasnt disappointed. From the get go this was clearly very Adrinette heavy which I always love so I liked that part and well it was pretty cute. For a start I love how Marinette is still Marinetting and still has those plans for marriage so it was a nice call back to season 1 marinette with her complex plans and future but this time it was more satisfying because she has hope and is pretty secure in her relationship with Adrien. It was also nice to see Tom's parents together and their wholesome family breakfast where everyone except Sabine were very hyped for. Speaking of Sabine, she's still a wonderful mother and I enjoyed that she was telling rest of the family to calm down. Then it was really cute how excited Tom and his parents were for Marinette bringing him over. I just love seeing supportive relationships.

That aside it was pretty nice when Marinette offered to accompany Adrien and I love that Nathalie was just okay with it, it honestly feels like they're all family at this point and I love that so much. Nathalie and Marinette interact a lot more and thats so sweet. Also Marinette's trust in Nathalie is wonderful. Like Nathalie is definitely becoming my favourite character, it was only made better in that flashback in the post credit scene. Even then Nathalie was so attentive to Adrien whilst Gabriel was just trash. It was a little satisfying to see that he was an absent father even then for some reason. Makes hating Gabriel so much easier. Honestly given the kind of parents Gabriel has it is a little surprising he was like that but then again what do we really know about Gabe's past? Maybe his parents were absent too because they do seem rather careless, maybe thats why he became strict, trying to make up for the lack of stability he had? Now I want to psychoanalyse Gabe like damnn but to be fair maybe it makes sense why he fell for Emilie, she seems pretty stable and maybe he always craved that? Shes the opposite of him, of his family.

Speaking of flashbacks, I loved seeing Emilie and Adrien's past, it was nice to know more about Nathalie and Adrien and I love the focus Adrien got this episode which usually doesnt happen. Miraculous really is seeming more like well everyone's show other than just Marinette what with the focus on Sabrina and Zoe. I love that they're splitting the focus now, it just makes me happy.

Also the parallels were epic! Adrien stuck in a tower for instance mirrors the time marinette was stuck in a tower also for protection by her dad in weredad. Like I loved tha parallels so much like its pretty cool! We got an Adrien version of weredad and that just makes me so happy. Its like nostalgia hits yk. Like I can go on about the parallels for a while. Family meal? check, taking place in a house? check. There may be more parallels but for that I need to watch the episode.

Also I love how Marinette was hyperaware of the ring, despite the new atmosphere of the show, the hints of the season 5 finale remain. They didnt forget about it even as she tried to break it which was pretty cool. Miraculous is definitely stepping up its game.

I also really adore how normal it is that they're together now, like its so easy and just fits and seems so natural. Its almost like they've always been together at the same time I can hardly believe that they're together like that really hits hard like damn. LIKE MY BABIES ARE ACTUALLY TOGETHER! He called Marinette his girlfriend and thats just so surreal. 2-3yrs of waiting and it paid of!

Also I really hated Emilie's father the entire time and wanted to punch him so so much like why is he such a jerk? I guess he improved a little but I still dont like him, he treated his wife horribly. Also Adrien in a trophy while it makes sense literally, I kind of want to do english literature style analysis for some reason. How hes objectified and stuff which was the point of the episode but still.

Then there was Plagg, he was such a menace this episode and I loved Adrien's expressions. It was funny seeing him trying to hide his secret from Marinette and Nathalie though I kind of want Nathalie to know his identity at least.

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml spoilers #adrinette #ml s6 #ml thoughts #miraculous ladybug #werepapas spoilers #daddycop spoilers #ml s6 spoilers #adrien x marinette #nathalie sancoeur #nathalie is the best #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous

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plutosillywrites · 4 hours ago

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neighbor!price x reader except she’s moving in to the house next door and needs help from the strong man next door..

fyi: oral f! receiving, age gap (not explicitly mentioned), praises, sweet talk

it’s hot, and your sundress is not helping at all to elevate the burn on your skin, your hair is tied pretty up in a bun, and your carrying probably one of the heaviest boxes known to man.

you set it down right before the stairs to your porch and groan, “fuck, my back hurts.” you comment, your hand resting on your lower back.

you look to the house next door, it’s beautiful. blue, and white adorned the whole house, the trim of the windows and doors being white and the rest being blue. you notice a man sitting on a chair on his porch— hat tugged so you can’t see his eyes, and a cigar between his lips. (and he’s so hot you could drool.)

you look to the rest of the heavy boxes and bite your lip, you’d hate to be a bother— but, you really can’t lift all these alone. you walk towards the edge of his yard, your soft voice ripping through the silence. “i’m sorry, sir?” you ask, his head lifts to get a better look at you. “yes, ma’am?” he responds, and you feel an odd flutter— he was being nice for the love of god!

you fiddle with your dress a bit before saying, “will you please help me load these boxes inside? i’d hate to bother you— and i’ll give you anything you want for helping!” you say, quite innocently, it’s unfortunate for you that john has a dirtier reward in mind.

he goes to stand, a grin plastered on his face. “i wouldn’t mind helping a pretty girl like ya’self anyday.” he says, and you thank god that it is sunny and you are already burning red— or else your blush would be way more noticeable.

you smile and go towards the boxes to help before john just coughs and scoots you out of the way. “you’re all right love, sit down and look pretty for me, yeah?” he smiles before grabbing the box in front of you. “don’t want you to hurt ya’self lifting these heavy things.” (they don’t seem very heavy to him.)

you laugh and nod, move to sit on the steps of the porch. you fluff and play with your hair, smiling at john so sweetly he works twice as hard loading these boxes inside.

when he’s all finished, he wipes his hands together and smiles. “all done, pretty. now.. can i get my treat for helping you so kindly?”

you smile, standing to go make him a nice drink, thinking all too literal of his request. “of course.. you worked so hard! thank you— what are you wanting?” you ask, entering your home and gesturing for him to come with.

“oh, i’m in the mood for something a little..” he comes close to you, closing the front door with his foot. “.. sweet, like a delicious cupcake.” he says, but you notice his face is a lot closer to you now. you have to resist the urge to bite your lip and tell him the cupcake is standing right in from of him—

“of course, let me get the cupcake tin—“ as you turn to go open the boxes, he slides behind you, hands resting lightly at your sides— allowing you to move away from his advance if you didn’t like it.

“oh.. you’re so sweet..” he says, having leaned close to the shell of your ear. “clearly i was too vague.. you’re the cupcake, darlin’.” you smile, and giggle from nervousness, turning to meet his gaze. “really? you— me?” he laughs, loudly and boisterously before meeting your eyes again.

“have you looked at yourself? especially in that pretty lil’ dress you have on..” his fingers dance along your sides, wanting to get closer but not daring to cross a line. “let me have a bite?”

you leave him no more room for talking as you pull him down to your lips, your mouths in a synchronized wave, the kiss is leaving you wanting more— harder, faster.

your arms wrap around his neck and at some point he lifts you, setting you atop the kitchen counter, breaking the kiss only to pant and try and catch yours and his breath.

“you look so pretty..” you tell john, slipping his hat off, and sliding your hands down his chest. “i’m just a little jealous of your eyes..” your mumble, leaning up to capture his lips in a searing kiss again, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

he smiles into your lips, slowly tugging the hem of your dress upwards his hands feeling so big on your thighs, sliding them back and forth. “should be calling you pretty, baby..” he mumbles in your lips, his fingers softly nudge your legs apart.

one hand slides down to where your clothed core is, fingers making slow figure 8’s as you moan into his mouth, pulling away just so you can look down and watch him work. “does that feel good, lovie?” he asks, his fingers speeding up when you whimper out a “yesss….” .

he smiles, before his hand grabs the hem of your panties and tugging them down your knees and off completely. you gasp at the cold air touch your slick cunt, you grab the hem of his jeans before unbuttoning his them. “not fair if i’m the only one..” you say, tugging his pants down but john stops you with a smile.

“need to have a good excuse to see you again, and again..” he says, before moving his hips away from you and sliding his fingers up and down your cunt, before slowly inserting one.. then two fingers. pumping them with want and desire, rubbing in a spot deep inside.

he laughs pitifully at your quiet whines and cries, “poor baby.. not enough hm? i’ll fix that..” he leans down to his knees, his mouth face level with your pearl and hole, (which is squeezing his fingers harder cause he’s so close.)

he leaned close and sucks gently on your pretty little bud, slow but getting faster quickly. you whine and moan under his incredible feeling attack, “fuck- fuck!” you cry out, hips moving on their own.

before you know it, there’s a tight bundle of heat twisting and turning, exploding at its peak which has you crying out johns name and sagging slightly on the table. “so perfect.. just for me now, yeah?” and you nod dumbly.

maybe you won’t be moving into your house, you’ll be moving into his.

an: oh my i hope you enjoy this yummy treat, i’m so eepy so i will be crashing as soon as this posts so not a proof read (they never are..)

#john price x reader #john price #neighbor!john price #blue collar!johnprice #tf 141 #cod mw2 #john price x you

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kabr0ztrousers · 1 day ago

Note

hiya it's🦋anon again can I request a fem reader x male vampire, while reader and the vampire have sex he ends up putting his fangs in her neck and he turns her into a vampire.

Today's been busy again so I'm letting this one jump the queue a little because it's a little shorter. After this I've still got about a week's backlog so if you've asked for anything please don't feel put out, it's coming (pun intended(yes even you, Clown Fucker))

Kabr0z Writes episode 40: Sanguinare Vampiris

Also entitled: You have contracted Hemolytic Porphyria

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: death (kinda); blood play; vampires; blood mention; this list expands if you're familiar with Vampire: the Masquerade to include ghoulification; intox; loss of agency/control; possessive/obsessive relationships;

A/N: I am again reminding you all, you can submit any requests, ideas, verbal abuse, et cetera in my asks and DMs, it will most likely get written.

Even that thing you're thinking of.

Especially that.

###################################

Winter time was a blessing. The sun setting so soon meant your lover was able to come around sooner, and didn't have to wake you in the small hours of the morning to escape the scorching rays. In summer you had to go to his Haven, waiting for dusk before he'd wake up, normally in the small hours in the morning, and only until dawn.

A knock came on your door. He couldn't enter without permission, apparently something to do with the specific kind of vampire he is? He was always pretty vague about it, apparently the less you knew the safer you were. Vampire society seemed pretty cutthroat, you weren't sure you wanted to know more about it.

You answered the door. Nobody was there, but you knew better "come in, then" you said to the empty street

He didn't appear, exactly, you more just realised he was stood there. The deep kiss drawing snapping his illusion as he pressed his body to yours, closing the door behind him.

He was cold, almost clammy, he could mimic being alive if he wanted to, the warmth, the breathing, the heartbeat, but it drained him when he did, so you didn't want him exerting himself if he didn't need to. You were with him because you liked him, not just for the sex. Although, the sex was damn good.

He smiled at you "You eaten yet?"

You shook your head and he pulled out his phone, dialling up a takeout "I'll get you something, my treat"

He ordered a Chinese, and you watched a movie as you ate, him just watching. Vampires can't stomach actual food. He tried when you were first dating, but it didn't stay down and wasn't pretty when it came back up.

So your night together drew on, him asking about your day, your work, your friends, then hanging on every word as you told him.

Being an immortal member of the living dead must get lonely.

The film wasn't very good, some action flick without any real plot or substance. You found yourself staring at him as he absentmindedly watched. He dressed casually, a button down and jeans, a nice watch, a pair of practical boots left by your door. He only became a vampire in the 90's, and he's looked like a 20-something ever since. It made it easier for you to explain to your friends, and the age gap didn't really bother you, even though he was turned before you were even born.

He noticed you watching him, eyeing his sharp jawline, his mouth twisted to a smile and he took a breath. You watched as colour flooded his face, the greyish pallor of his skin turning rosy, his eyes moistening and starting to blink. He kissed you again.

It was warm this time, his breath hot against your face. You touched his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath your hand. You knew what it cost him to do this.

You rolled on top of him, pushing your hips against his, feeling his cock start to grow and harden. You opened your shirt and one of his hands slid around your waist. He bit the other, holding the wound to your lips. You sucked out a mouthful of his Vitae, feeling the strength and vigour it gave you blossom in your chest, making your skin flush and your pussy moisten.

You slipped off his lap onto the floor, unfastening his jeans and slipping his cock out, licking it up and down as it twitched under your attention, coating it with your spit.

Your pants were already on the floor next to you as you fingered yourself, keeping his cock in your mouth and two fingers in your cunt. The way he stroked your hair as you sucked his cock always just made you wetter and needier, your pussy already clenching around your fingers as you toyed with yourself, teasing out a small orgasm before the main event, just enough to quicken your heart.

His breath quickened as he watched you cum, the little noises escaping you making his cock twitch in your mouth but you knew he wouldn't cum too soon.

You pulled yourself back up to his lap, moving his hands to your tits as you lowered yourself onto his cock. He gasped as it slid into you, your spit only helping it into your soaking pussy. He squeezed and rubbed your breasts as you started to ride him. He always managed to hit the best spots inside you, making you whine and whimper with every roll of your hips. He cradled your face, turning you to look into his wine-dark eyes

"You love this" his voice was even, it made your head spin

"I love this" you echoed to him

"You love me" came his voice again, echoing through the corners of your mind

"I love you" you responded, the only things in the world were his eyes and his cock, each one driving you wild

"Cum"

You came. Still transfixed by him, your body jolted and squirmed as you squirted around the cock skewering you, still rolling and bucking your hips, wringing out every drop of pleasure he was giving you

"Again"

You screamed, your pussy clenching and squirting. Your body pulsing in sync with it, white knuckles gripping his shoulders as he pulled you in to him.

The bite was ecstasy. You came again as soon as his fangs pierced your skin, arms dropping to your sides and brain clouding. You felt your legs twitching and shivering. Your fingertips tingling.

Your head spun faster and faster as your breathing got faster and lighter.

The room got cold, and darker, maybe the power was on the fritz?

The sound of the TV was distant, quiet, as though heard from the next room

It's getting colder.

It's dark.

You can't feel your legs.

A kiss.

Your mind explodes. You spasm and twitch as every vein in your body fills with fire. You try to scream, pain searing through you. You can see. You can hear. You can smell.

You hear the sounds of your neighbours snoring, you can see everything in the room as though the lights were on, but the only light is the TV. You can smell... Blood. Yours, your neighbours', carried on the wind. You're so hungry.

He's stood there, licking his lip, sealing the wound.

You get up, strength coursing through you.

He smiles at you. "Welcome to the rest of your life. We can go over the formalities later. For now, let's get you someone to eat"

#################################

Postscript: Wow, that was another fun one to write! Massive thanks to the folks at White Wolf/Onyx Path for the Vampire: the Masquerade system which I couched this in.

If you can correctly identify the clan Vamp!BF belongs to, you get your request fast-tracked, contest closes when the first winner's story is published! Guess early, guess often, send me your requests!

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ubemango · 2 days ago

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commission 6: friends-to-lovers!Hoseok

note 1: for Miss Sam!!!!!!!! Thank you for your help back in November!!!!!!!!!! I hope sexy sexy brother’s best friend/f2l!Hoseok is Good To you!!!!!!!!!!! Mwah!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰💕💕💕💕💕😁😁😁😁😁

note 2: a little background--the premise for this story did not come easy to me. Like At All!!!! I was struggling--AGAIN--with Exposition and you know what I learned? in medias res never fails me. Truly she is God. I love her. Anywho, Keyword(s): Talking to your dog for emotional support! Tension! Mutual pining!!!!!!!!! Being so close you don’t know what to do with yourself anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Word count: 4.5k. Class is in session!

note 3: a big big biiiiiiiiig Thank You to @b1usides and @angelguk for helping me out with this ;_; Truly would not have come out with this without you I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for ur input and insight and interest and MWAH !!!

(note 4: I wrote all those previous notes back in 2020. GOOD LORD IT IS 2025. This is not a come back I just wanted to post this because I wrote so much of it and I’m tired of thinking my writing is too ugly to post. It can be ugly but also exist on this blog. Yay!!!!!!! Mindset mindset! I wuuuvvvv youuuu my friends I hope you’re doing well!!!!)

“Now?”

“Now,” Yoongi says, “and don’t come up with excuses about being busy because I know you’re doing your dalgona shit right now.”

You slide the bottle of instant coffee a little closer to your chest for protection. He probably overheard you talking to your mom about your plans in the kitchen last night. “You’re evil.”

“Whatever. Just–come, please? Everyone’s busy and Hoseok won’t finish unpacking today if we don’t get the help.”

Hearing that name sends electricity down to your toes. “What’s in it for me?”

“Being a nice sister–“ Yoongi’s breath is stifled with effort, probably from lifting a box– “and helping my best friend move into his new apartment?”

“I just got home–“

“I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important. The air conditioning here hasn’t been turned on yet,” he baits, and you hiss at that. “You know what that’s like.”

You do. The sun is unforgiving in the throes of late spring, and even you’d been contemplating holding out on your move back to avoid the heat. You’d made sure to finish unpacking last night, the loom of today’s plus-twenty weather with humidity heavy on your shoulders. Yoongi’s strangled tone tells you Hoseok’s got a billion and one things to unpack.

“Fine,” you concede. “Just text me the address.”

“Don’t take too long.”

The line cuts. You get the text in three seconds.

You stare forlornly at the whisk and bowl you’d gotten out, watching your phone screen light up with Yoongi’s text. To think you’d be hauling ass with cardboard boxes instead of making frothy coffee. What you thought would be a little welcome-back activity now that you’ve moved back home with your family instead lies toppled since you’ve been voluntold for other plans.

Plans to see Hoseok for the first time in years.

Immediately, you hold your breath. Maybe if you restrict your airflow then things won’t be so real and sudden, and why couldn’t Yoongi have called Namjoon, or something? He’s ten times as strong as you are. He lives in the city, too. You feel cheated. Older brothers don’t like taking things into consideration.

Your lungs burst into a yelp when something furry brushes against your leg, which, thankfully, stops you from contemplating all of Yoongi’s wrongdoings with revenge. You realize you’ve got your fist tight around the whisk.

“Girl, you scared me!”

Boppa stares at you with her long eyelashes and sits down at your feet. She’s the picturesque prettiness of a ten-year-old cockapoo. It’s kind of insulting looking at her sometimes.

“Boppa, I think my life’s about to fall apart and it’s all Yoongi’s fault,” you tell her.

She offers no response. You drop the whisk, reach over for her treat jar, and pop the dried meat into her mouth. Just a reward for the anxious rambling you’re about to dump on her pretty little head.

“Remember senior year, Boppa, and I couldn’t do my calculus homework because I missed too many classes? So Hoseok helped me out with all the problems I didn’t get?” You don’t think she does. She just pants, watching you put your mise-en-place away. “Or when he helped me make soup for Yoongi when he had the flu that one time?”

In your head, a dam breaks, and it all comes roiling back.

The way you remember Hoseok is different every time. Little disjointed moments throughout high school, college, and it starts with junior year, when he’d come over after a music council meeting with Yoongi. He’d walked past the living room, caught sight of your puffed face from crying over Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds; so startled by your hiccuping that he’d offered you a coupon to the pizza place near school and told you to get lunch with it the next day. Because pretty girls don’t deserve to cry, and Yoongi slapped his neck for being too nice to his little sister and dragged him upstairs to practice for their sectional.

It’s who he is, has always been. The kindness that never wavers, always there when you need help–carrying groceries into the kitchen when your mom complained about bad knees, patiently waiting for you to work through a difficult log function, walking Boppa when Yoongi was too lazy to do it. College Hoseok disappeared for a bit, busy with obligations and social circles. But like all strong currents, he came back with a force, seeking refuge on your couch after an overnight stay at school.

(You’d made him a snack, that time. He gave you the prettiest smile ever. When you’d settled into bed, you could hear his snoring from your bedroom.

You slept so well that night.)

“Boppa, why,” you wail. “Why is this all coming back. I just got home.”

She blinks. You toss her another treat. She eats it well.

“I’m not in love with him.” Affirmations, affirmations. It’s good to air out your grievances, especially since no one is home to hear them. “I’m not!”

Boppa looks at you as if to say, I haven’t accused you of anything, so why are you so strung up?

“I don’t know what’s going on!” You shriek, slamming your palms on the counter.

Logically, you’re correct: you aren’t in love with Hoseok. He was just so overwhelmingly good. Attachments formed. Hoseok came to your home all the time. And home is a permanent fixture you could never get rid of, and you’d been away for two years, living in the western side of the city, forgetting you had a life back here, learning new intersections, knowing where to touch fruits to see if they were ripe, seducing the hot pharmacy man into a spicy romance (and subsequently dealing with the heartbreak), living, accomplishing, and these things end. Some parts of life end so you come back home, and Hoseok is home, you’re home, and the one thing about all of this is that it’s all Yoongi’s fault!

You close your eyes, feel the rush of your entire life come to a halt right at this very moment. You wanted coffee, not an attack on all your senses.

“Boppa,” you say, realizing something else. “I need a housewarming gift.”

You hear her get up, and you watch her stop where you’d left your extra bag of rice from unpacking. She lies down in front of it.

“Do you think that’s a good gift?”

She yawns. You google the meaning of offering jasmine rice as a gift for new homes.

“Abundance of love and food,” you say from your findings. It’s good. “Smart girl.”

She makes a grunting noise when you carry the bag away from her, and accepts the kiss you leave behind her ear as your goodbye for now.

She’s due for her mid-afternoon nap. You’re due for a reality check.

The drive over to the apartment is short, and you’re thankful because your seat belt scorches you when you shift the wrong way, and suddenly your mood is sour all over again. But your parallel parking, though–it’s so immaculate you almost start crying. The balance of good and evil in your life makes you tired. The giant bag of rice almost makes you tip into the asphalt of the sidewalk.

Security buzzes you in with the code Yoongi sent you, and no later than 20 seconds pass when you find yourself in front of unit two-eighteen. You knock, and steel yourself.

The door opens.

“The fuck is that?” Yoongi snorts.

You heat high in your cheeks at the interrogation. “Boppa told me to do it.”

“Our dog told you to bring rice?”

“It’s a gift,” you seethe, “and our dog is a magical dog.” (It’s the truth. Somehow when Boppa howls, your mom will suddenly come up with cryptic news. The last time, an old auntie died.)

“I like it,” a voice says, and suddenly Hoseok is nudging Yoongi out the way. His entrance freezes you in your spot. His fingers brush against yours when he takes the bag from your hands. “Really. My mom brought rice for when my sister moved out–means abundance, or something.”

“Exactly,” is all you can breathe out, and he smiles–just as you remember–and then he disappears into another room. Never one for grand gestures; he comes and goes. Maybe it was just a ghost who happened to look like Hoseok and really liked lifting rice into the netherworld.

The slam of the grain against what’s probably the kitchen counter interrupts the thought. Yoongi makes a disgruntled noise, which more or less means come in before I start insulting you.

“We’re fixing the bed frame right now,” he explains, the door squeaking shut under his hand. “It’s already super hot in there so just–don’t come in.”

“Man sweats?”

“You know how meat smells when you’ve left it out on the counter all day?”

You recoil automatically. “I–? Ew.”

He’s joking. Probably. But it’s enough to make you stay away from that part of the apartment. The living room space is comfortably small; enough square feet to classify as cozy, not cramped. The linger of heat is a silent threat–you can already feel yourself starting to get sticky under your collar. They’ve got a mini-fan propped on one of the many boxes littered on the carpeted floor, though, whirring through little bursts of air.

There are so many boxes. The thought alone is making you sweat more.

“Thank you for the help.” Hoseok pops in again. Brushing his hair away from his sticky forehead, and you’re almost offended at how suave that move was. The audacity of good-looking people to do good-looking things unprovoked. “I really appreciate it.”

You could never refuse him. This is the truth you’ve always known. “It’s no problem. I didn’t think you’d have this much stuff.”

He flounders with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. I didn’t think I did either, but I had a whole nest of shit that I had back home in my closet and I didn’t want to throw anything out.”

“So for nostalgic purposes you’re risking heat exhaustion, is what you’re saying,” you joke.

“So mean.” Hoseok puts his hand over his heart. “You really wound me, you know?”

Yoongi interrupts with a cough. “You guys are boring, I’m going back to the bed frame.”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Hoseok calls after him. He stands rigid for a second, gathering his thoughts. Probably just avoiding responsibility for a few precious seconds because going back to the proclaimed Meat Room sounds like a painful thought. “Um–I would catch up more but I just–I really need this done before we actually pass out.”

“It’s okay. Really.” He nods his gratitude. “Where should I start?”

“We’ve already done the bathroom, so… you think you can start with the kitchen?”

You nod. Hoseok sighs another “thank you, again,” and takes two steps backwards, as if to keep that soft gaze on you for as long as possible. He spins away before you can think too hard about it.

The kitchen is separated from the living room by the sink, and this is where all the goodies sit. One box is labeled with nothing on the side. Another has nothing but a picture of a smiling plate, a tiny fork and spoon holding hands. But the most enticing one is the box that says MUGS, SO MANY MUGS! MOM CAN’T FIT THEM ALL!

His mom’s loopy handwriting is so cute. You start with this one. In the bedroom, Yoongi screams.

“Are you okay?” You yell out, ripping at the tape with your nail, sorting the bubble-wrapped mugs by… colour? Shape? Who even owns a mug made out to be a literal octopus? The suction cups are so weirdly detailed. You put that furthest in the cupboard above your head, and pop a couple bubbles of bubble wrap to feel better.

“‘M fine,” he calls back. “Hoseok almost hacked off my thumb.”

“I did not!” Hoseok responds passionately.

They stay silent, save for more banging on wood. You organize to the clipped rhythm of the fan swaying back and forth.

It barely dawns on you that you’re in Hoseok’s new kitchen, voluntarily fixing his stuff. And if you thought about it, he would absolutely do the same for you. The symbiotic relationship of being nice just because. It’s the only way you know how to interact with each other. Someone gives, someone receives.

(You missed home. You missed Hoseok.)

It takes half an hour to sort through all the kitchen essentials. The plates and the bowls are stowed away neatly, cutlery in the first drawer below the counter. All the cleaning supplies are safe under the sink. The bag of rice sits heavy in its spot where Hoseok had left it. You’re sweating.

Not as badly as Yoongi and Hoseok are, though. They trudge in the kitchen, breathing hard, eyebrows wet with their effort.

“We’re done with the room,” Hoseok greets. Yoongi ignores you and goes straight for the handle of the fridge. He reaches for two water bottles, and hands the second one to Hoseok. “Wow, you cleared this fast.”

The compliment should not be as hard-hitting as it should be. Your giddiness is silent. “It was easy. Also your octopus mug really freaked me out so I put it, like, as far away from reach as possible.”

“I got him that mug,” Yoongi complains.

“You couldn’t have gotten him a nicer mug?”

“No?”

“You’re ugly,” you retaliate. Yoongi scrunches his face, and drinks his water angrily.

“I like the mug,” Hoseok inserts, brushing past you to open the drawers, eyeing your work, “but yeah, it is kind of. Uh. Out there.”

“Am I being insulted right now?” Yoongi asks.

“It’s an ugly mug,” you say.

“And you got him an ugly bag of rice.”

“I told you Boppa told me to do it!”

“How’s Boppa?” Hoseok interrupts, checking where you’d put the medicine, the first-aid.

“She’s–“

“–good,” you and Yoongi say at the same time. The look he sends you is venomous.

“Stop copying me.”

“You’re ugly,” you say again.

“You guys need to stop giving me whiplash every five seconds,” Hoseok complains. You know he’s used to it, though. Banter that toes the line of actual hurtful words. It’s a common conversation. He inspects the cupboard above the sink next, making little approving noises. “Ooh, bowls on top of the plates. Very nice.”

“I taught her that,” Yoongi says. Which–yes, he technically did, but now you’re just annoyed because he ripped the compliment right from your nose, and now he’s smiling because he knows you’re pissed.

The fan sings its mechanical song. Fighting Yoongi burns up so much energy you fear you’ll collapse once it comes down to fixing up the living room.

Except.

Your brother opens his stupid mouth again, and announces, “I need to leave.”

Hoseok whips around from where he was inspecting the cleaning supplies. “What?”

“Shit. I had to pick up mom from the station.”

The green-lit time on the stove says it’s five till seven. You picture your sweet little mother waiting behind the doors to the passenger pick-up parking lot, and confide in the thought that she’ll probably smack Yoongi once he pulls up. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Oh really,” he mocks. “If I get pulled over for speeding you’ll bail me out, right? Yeah? Cool. I’m sorry. Good luck. Don’t die. Hoseok, take care of her. Or–whatever. It was fun.”

Before either of you can respond, he bolts out, and slams the door behind him in a spectacularly hard fashion.

“Well,” Hoseok says.

“Huh,” you comment.

You make a mental note to kill your brother. Preferably by means of limited gore, maximum pain. Because now you’re alone with the bane (boon?) of your existence in the kitchen with too many thoughts in your head again and again it’s Yoongi’s fault and you wonder why your breakdowns always have to happen in the kitchen.

Calmly, you drink your water.

“So, uh…”

Hoseok fidgets with the empty mug box on the counter. His ears are bright red.

“You wanna–get started with the living room?” You attempt to save the conversation before it gets too awkward.

“Yes,” he agrees quickly, and scurries out with the same swiftness as Yoongi’s departure.

Did he not want to be close to you? Did you smell like meat, too? You put your deodorant on this morning. You sniff at your armpit secretly while Hoseok chooses a stack of boxes to open, and conclude that it is not your good-smelling sweat that’s driving him away, but something else you’re not aware of.

“Honestly, there’s not much here to unpack, a lot of these are just like–winter jackets, the electric cords for the TV…”

“Why don’t we start with the bookcase?”

It looms with emptiness, tucked away into the corner. The dark oakwood that housed all the precious things he said he couldn’t throw away. It feels a little personal, knowing it contains his accomplishments. His secrets? His school yearbooks? A family picture, maybe, stuffed toys he might’ve won from a carnival. For a second you imagine how it would feel, unpacking your things and his things in your own shared space.

“Sure,” Hoseok decides.

You pick the biggest box to open first. The tape has ripped at the corners, sides bulging slightly from the things crammed inside. Some dust flings off when you whip the top open, and inside is way too many books. Elementary school yearbooks, a massive cookbook, the entirety of A Series of Unfortunate Events.

“I didn’t know you read,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

Hoseok startles into laughter. “Uh..?”

“I meant–oh god you know what I mean.” You blush at the slip-up. But Hoseok pays no heed, just laughs even harder.

“It’s fine. It’s–yeah. Back in high school. Found the first book in some second-hand store and ended up buying the rest.”

That explains why the first one is so much more worn down than the others. Loved, flipped through. You heave the box onto the floor, sit down next to it. Criss-cross applesauce. You begin sorting through it one by one.

“So how are you? Now that you’re back home, and all.” Hoseok handles something that clinks slightly–pots of succulents. He staggers on his tip-toes to fit them pretty on the top shelf. You think back to your brief crisis of identity in the kitchen at home.

“I wanted to make the dalgona coffee today but I had a change of plans.”

Hoseok sighs. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“All good. But to answer your question…” There was no exciting answer to impress him with. You’re back for convenience, lack of work. Ordinary reasons. You don’t want to entertain lengthy stories in the fog of this heat, anyway. “It’s… I’m just back. That internship was all I had going for me, so I’m still on a job hunt.”

“That’s really cool, though. I remember your sketchbooks. And when you built that seat to look like a huge-ass Converse shoe.”

It was one of your projects for junior year. “Yeah, it… I don’t know where that is now, probably stuck in the basement somewhere.”

“Sell it on eBay.”

“Like anyone would pay for that shit.” It literally was a giant wooden slab made to look like a shoe, soft enough for reclining. “It’s ugly.”

Hoseok shrugs. “It wasn’t. But keep thinking that, silly, go ahead.”

“It’s just–I can’t believe you know I built that. Like you remember that? I don’t even remember building it.”

He contemplates. “I’ll always remember you,” he answers, very simply, and for a while he lets it linger, like it hadn’t just gotten your heart racing so fast.

The silence is scary. Maybe he’s trying to read your mind. Maybe if you made a loud noise in your head, he’d be startled. You start thinking about the most obscene moaning noises, straight out of soft, amateur pornography that you see floating on your timeline sometimes. But Hoseok doesn’t budge.

Damn. He just continues on.

“Do you still cry when The Proposal comes on?”

“Oh spare me,” you beg, itching to slap his leg. He shudders with his laughing. “How about you? You still cry when someone talks about the White Lady?”

You think back to a 16-year-old Hoseok sleeping over at your house once, so vexed by Yoongi’s searches on horror forums that night he’d made sure Boppa slept in the room with them. “You’ll curse my apartment!”

“I’d have to say the name three times, you know.”

He watches you from above with frightened eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

Hoseok should know better than to trust his best friend’s sister. Right as you taunt him with the first syllable–(“Whi…“)–he tucks the last succulent away on the shelf, drops down on his knees, and shoves a hot hand over your lips.

“I will actually, genuinely, really, reallyreallyreally hate you forever,” he threatens.

Well.

You wouldn’t want that.

He is devastatingly close, his gaze so frenzied you’re starting to feel bad. The heat comes in waves: the stifling living room, the pathetic blows of wind from the fan. Hoseok’s body. Proximity you haven’t known in forever. He just stares.

You garble from behind his mouth. “Sto’ wooing ame.”

“What?”

You slide his palm off your wet lip. “Stop looking at me,” you repeat.

“I can’t just look at you?”

Oh. He –?

“You – !” You swat at him like he’s a pesky mosquito, warding off the thirst for your embarrassment. He sits next to you, laughing. “I’m sweaty and my concealer is creasing.”

“You look fine.”

“To you.” You pat under your eyes. “I’m ugly to me.”

“Me is stupid,” he counters.

“Me will kick you if you don’t finish clearing this shit out!”

Hoseok relents, careful to test your aggression. He’s sweating, too. He wipes at his neck, sighing into straight posture from creaky knees. “We can just finish this then call it a night,” he offers. “Are you almost done with that box?”

You lug the cookbook into the remaining space of the shelf. “It’s done.”

“Cool. Then could you just–” he gestures to the cardboard near his feet with one hand, arranging more succulents with the other– “grab that for me?”

You reach over with a grunt, gentle in your hold of the pot. It’s a money plant. “From your mom?”

“I don’t even like plants,” Hoseok complains. He looks to the side of the bookshelf, realizing there’s no space to accommodate the larger pot. Dejected, he just leaves it where he stands. “I’m fixing this tomorrow, I don’t care. Let’s go outside.”

Outside is the balcony, which isn’t as oppressively hot as it is inside but still has you disappointed that it’s, well, hot. There’s no escaping it. Hoseok has to use his entire body weight to slide open the glass doors. “Shit fucking doors. Do you think Yoongi carries WD-40?”

“Probably. Tell him it’s his welcoming gift for you.”

He snorts. “I’d feel guilty. He already did a lot, building the bed with me.”

You follow him to where he leans on the railing. His unit faces west. Perfect for this time of year, when the sunsets are longer. It bleeds low behind the fading bricks of the faraway houses, the inner city high-rises, and if you angled yourself correctly it’s almost as if they lean on the sun itself.

“This is the real reason why I chose this place,” Hoseok says. “Saw this sunset and knew.”

“I didn’t know you were so sappy.” You scrunch your face like you’ve been fed something sour. He laughs.

“How else do you think I get all the hot ladies?” He teases. You stop at that. It suddenly occurs to you that Hoseok is a man who’s lived a million lives just as you have, and just as nothing stopped you from trying to date around (re: hot pharmacy man), the same laws should apply to him, too.

You aren’t hurt, but it does cut a little. And before you can stop yourself, you ask: “Are any hot ladies coming over anytime soon?”

He sounds like he chokes. “God no.”

“Oh.”

“I – it’s boring stuff. Just. No. Maybe there could have been, but no.”

In your heart of hearts, you believe he’s stuttering because he’s embarrassed. But a part of you wishes he’s trying to appease the part of you that’s bristling, like he knows it’s not information you want to hear. It’s almost like a puppy nipping at their owner for forgiveness, though why would he want to be apologizing?

(Unless.)

“Okay,” you say. You try not to think too hard. “Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Your top lip is sweaty. Every crease in your body is sweaty. You’re also very much aware that Hoseok is looking at you like he wants to say more, but he just hangs his head low. “Thanks. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know.” He wipes his brow. “Anything, really. Plans for the summer. Hot men to woo. Or hot ladies, I don’t know.”

You watch the sun set lower. It’s cooler now, and the cicadas are humming loudly. “I… no. I’m not really… I don’t know.”

Good lord. You have the strangest feeling to cut open all your guts and let Hoseok see you for everything you are. He does it so easily, to you. This is the universal truth that’s defined your existence since he entered your life.

“Ugh. I’d offer you beer to cheers for being lonely but you’re driving.” He pouts. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t want to keep you any longer than you want to stay.”

“I don’t mind.” And because you like to torture yourself, you add: “Not if it’s you.”

(You can almost hear your brother’s voice. You’re so easy. The you in your head gives him a sucker punch and says: Well maybe I like to be easy! The Boppa in your head also kicks him in the shin. You think she’d be cheering you on.)

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Really.” It’s not a question but a reaction, and Mind-Boppa gives you a fist bump.

“Yeah. Or you can tell me if that was weird. Like. Really. You can.” You’re about to ramble more but Hoseok interrupts you.

“No!” He says this a little too loudly. You flinch. “Sorry. No. No. That wasn’t weird.”

For the umpteenth time today you almost burst into tears. It’s everything sweet and bad and hot pressing in on you, and is Hoseok smiling? He’s laughing. You’re about to spontaneously combust and he’s cackling like he’s cracked the code of something. You must look horrified, because he starts to flounder.

“I’m–sorry. I’m sorry. Please. I’m not laughing at you. I’m just gonna ask you something, and I want you to walk out on me and forget everything I’m about to say if you choose to. Does that sound good?”

You think: it’s hot when he takes initiative.

You say: nothing.

You: nod for him to continue.

“Can I please treat you to dinner for fixing my kitchen for me?”

Catholics say the universe was created in seven days. Hoseok bursts and collides five hundred of them with one question.

“Will you pay for me?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Do I have to look pretty?”

“You’re always pretty to me,” he says.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll pretend I never asked you and you can go woo another hot person. But I prefer you don’t.”

The sun has set. There’s pink in the sky, and there’s pink in your eyes. You wonder if your pupils have turned heart-shaped.

“Then my answer is yes,” you decide.

When you sit in the driver’s seat, you think about Hoseok’s smile and what you’d do to keep it there. Then, you declare to your driving wheel, “I’m going to kill Yoongi,” then pull off into traffic.

Hoseok closes the door behind him, and slides down with his back against the wood. “Yoongi’s going to kill me,” he says to himself.

#hoseok scenarios #bts scenarios #hoseok scenario #bts scenario #hoseok #bts #ubemango fic #f: commissions

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year ago

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ftm sirius still wearing lipstick and dresses and tying his long hair in feminine ways because he likes feeling pretty and finally feels confident enough in himself and his masculinity to do so

#and also it helps that James’ brain just melts when he sees sirius in a little dress and makeup #he adores sirius in his more masculine appearance obviously #but it’s just a nice little treat when he gets all pretty #and James mostly likes the fact that sirius feels comfortable expressing himself in the way he wants without other people’s opinions getting #in the way #sirius black #trans sirius #genderqueer sirius #fem sirius #ftm Sirius #prongsfoot #bambibelle #jay talks #marauders

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good-beanswrites · 1 year ago

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I have questions about that last fic. How did the prisoners alter their uniforms, and what were the consequences? What did they throw at Es? What did they trick Fuuta into eating and how? How did they try to catch Jackalope?

LMAO murder aside these ten know how to cause problems on purpose 😭 Hehe thank you for your curiosity, I genuinely had visualized some specifics for these while writing >:3 So --

Mahiru started sewing patches and ribbons and things onto her uniform dress. She got very bold very quickly, though, completely replacing whole sections with colorful fabric (like swapping out the entire skirt/bodice/sleeves) so it was pretty obvious. Es replaced all her uniforms with the standard ones and limited her requests to only small amounts of fabric at a time. (Who’s to say she isn’t secreting these away to patch together later, though…)

I was influenced by seeing two “what are the limits of Milgram’s no-violence policy, really” posts very recently. I think if the object could cause absolutely no harm, it’s possible to hit Es with it. I’m thinking basic crumpled paper or even a lightweight food -- something harmless but very sticky and gets in their hair… either way Es is Not Pleased. I feel like this could have been anyone except Haruka and Mahiru, as even the more "mature" prisoners would just be curious about what would happen.

My original thought was cake, but now that I’m fact checking I see that it grows mold pretty quickly… So maybe pudding: the eggs and milk spoil a bit before you see actual mold. Whoever has decided to be a menace (my guess is Yuno or Mikoto) puts up a whole farce about food preferences and whether or not they can identify specific flavors in this special dessert Jackalope secreted away, and unfortunately Fuuta is a hungry boy and it’s not very difficult to get him to take a big bite 😔

Jackalope lounges around the prison, chilling with the prisoners and taking naps in whatever place he finds comfortable. They try sneaking up to where he’s settled in, distracting him with treats and gentle words to see how long they can keep him in place as they give him gradually more noticeable pets. Muu has coaxed him into enough peace to take off his hat and pet his head, but no one’s managed to give him little scritches before he tries to regain his dignity and scurries away. Little do they know, he forces Es to scratch, pet, brush, and cuddle him every single night under the pretense of their official duties.

#milgram #mahiru shiina #es #fuuta kajiyama #yuno kashiki #mikoto kayano #jackalope #muu kusunoki #asdfsdf thank you so much!! i was having so much fun with that drabble and just thinking of all the shenanigans theyd get into #while the other girls like to accessorize i think mahiru would go full with the sewing #she and haruka are too nice to throw something at es but the others do it for the meme or for science #theres a rowdy celebration and surprise when it actually works followed by them Getting The Hell Out Of There before es kills them #rip fuuta but im pretty sure they could just be like 'heres some food' and he'll be like 'fuck yeah!' and just chomp down #but then again the fact hes being offered a treat out of the blue might be suspicious and require some finesse #i hate jackalope with a burning passion but whenever i see that one art of es petting him i am suddenly overcome with the urge to #pet and scratch him like a little baby..... im sure the prisoners feel the same on occasion #analysis/thoughts

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silhouettecrow · 2 years ago

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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 216

Adjective: Pink

Noun: Peach

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Pink: of a color intermediate between red and white, as of coral or salmon; (of wine) rosé; (informal) (often derogatory) having or showing left-wing tendencies; of or associated with gay people

Peach: a round stone fruit with juicy yellow flesh and downy pinkish-yellow skin; a pinkish-yellow color like that of a peach; the Chinese tree that bears peaches; (informal) an exceptionally good or attractive person or thing

#sorry for being late again #at this point i dont know if i need to say why cos its almost always the same reason: accidentally falling asleep #which is the case this time #as for what happened today i met with our executive director for quite a few reasons #but pretty much the main one was for me to talk to her about how my supervisor has been treating me as of late #(specifically the past couple of months but especially this past week)#cos making me cry once and nearly making me cry another time right as im about to head to court for a hearing with a client is fucked up #and not at all how we should be treating each other (especially supervisors to their subordinates) at a domestic violence agency #and it seems like my supervisor is being so passive aggressive and outright mean to me because my coworker got fired #(shes shown favouritism toward that coworker)#(and im worried she thinks i got him fired when i was only one of many people to bring up to our executive director)#(the ways in which he was harming clients and doing things that are prohibited in our employee handbook)#but my conversation with our executive director went extremely well and made me feel validated and heard and safe/comfy #when it comes to the prompt i know it seems a little redundant or too straightforward #but there is something about it that strikes me as it being mystical or almost cottagecore in a way #it is very aesthetically pleasing to me and the feeling i get from it is nice #i just have absolutely no idea what to write about still #so im hoping something comes to me in due time #thanks for reading #writing #writer #creative writing #writing prompt #writeblr #trying to be a writeblr at least

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screampied · 2 months ago

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#BONGOS!

☆ sum. pov: when his backshots are just so good, they sound like bongooos! toji, choso, geto, sukuna, ino, nanami, gojo.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, dick drunk! reader, LETHAL BACKSHOTSSS, dom! choso sorta, ass obsessed men, size kink, brief cunnīlingus, doggystyle, prone boneee, hair pulling (nanami), slight dacryphīlia, runnin from it, pússy so good tears uppp (ino), spanks, dirty talk, sqúirting, bręeding, bed breaking, manhandling, cęrvix fucking.

an. HAPPY SQUIRTMAS *wet jingle noises*

CHOSO ★ KAMO.

“mhm- ah ah, get back here,” choso sharply prowls, each smoky pant turning raspier within the pitch.

choso was two words - feral and ruthless, and here he was having you all pretty and bent over on all fours..

his dark-rimmed eyes wandered everywhere at your body displayed underneath him. choso’s pointed ears couldn’t help but instinctively twitch upon hearing each sobbing mewl draaag its way out of your esophagus. it’s nothing but cute elongated syllables that made little to no sense, and each electrifying paps of fleshy stinging mounds clasping together has your head spinning in circles.

“ ‘m tired…of you, hah- always teasin’ me so much, baby. think you need a reminder of who’s in charge, huuuh?”

“c- chos—oooh!” your words get crudely cut off at the sloppy curve of his cock massaging through each part of your cunt.

like a maze - the upper part of his puffed tip clumsily gets lost, leisurely finding its way through before wetly marking every tender spot of your pussy with his curious tip. he’s beating up all spots, slowing his jagged hitting hips down purposely before picking his pace right back up. “mm- right f- fuckin’ thereee, fuck me then.”

with a sassy eye roll, choso deepens his angle, reaching an arm out to hold onto the grunting, wooden headboard. it’s undeniably loud, creaking non-stop each time both jolting bodies ounce against the bed frame.

“plan… on it,” and you whine, glossed lips breaking apart before your mouth spreads agape. he’s just so thick, and he loves more than anything to treat your pussy like it was just elastic. that effortless stretch- choso groans every time he feels you closing around him, cutely trying to squeeze around him before wheezing out those cute ‘oooh!’ ’s of whimpers.

“hah- gotta teach her some manners. can’t have you thinkin’ you can just walk all over me, princess—oh, fuuuck.”

every nth of choso’s staggering fat inches drills into you deeply, causing your eyes to goofily cross. he’s in you sooo good, using two grabby hands to raise your clumsy hips upright. “ugh- choso, mhm!” and your cunt’s just profusely dripping all around him, eagerly squelching at each springy thrust. he’s hard, maintaining a good alignment before his hips shimmy. his pace was literally inhuman. choso treats your convulsing nub like a target—repeatedly, striking your g-spot with precise hits as if it’s the perfect bullseye.

as you both each share laborious, breathy pants, he snatches your hips right back against his chiseled pelvis with an impish disapproving pout. “what did i say…no mngh- runnin’, pretty,” and you moan, feeling choso’s hand makes you dip all the way forward into his bare chest.

now, your back was just arched fully over with your ass perked up in the air. choso admires your slobbering pussy before leaning in, taking a moment to spit down between the exposed valley of your ass.

“f- fuuck, you’re so nasty, ‘cho,” you’d whine, holding back a bratty smile once your hand grips a jiggling fat of your rotating ass. through bleary peripherals and droopy hanging eyelids, choso’s swiping a thumb over his lips, another smearing his treacly saliva around your stuffed entrance to make sure you stay nice and wet for him.

it’s incredibly slimy, and his digit continues to sloppily trail further down the teary slot of cunt. it’s so raunchy, and choso licks his thin-pursed lips as if he’s preparing to feast….and right then, that’s when choso brings his freshly slick-coated fingers toward his rosy achy lips.

“she’s.. nastier,” choso grunts with his blushful broad tip aching from every ridged corner. your cunt wetly pops out an excited shriek of its own and your entire body starts to relax. he’s hissing through his teeth, fanning himself once he feels the cruel stiffening of his cock pound pound pound into your very core. “lemme hear her some more, princess. ‘s not enough hah- wet talk.”

and as choso’s rude hips continue to buck buck buck, he’s using every raging part of his hips to drill into you raw.

each twist, each turn—he’s deep, making sure your cunt remembers every narrow hit of his dick. a mixture of your sweetened moans and his feral grunts fill the air before he feels that cute clamping stick of your ass. “ ‘m gonna cum, ‘m cummin!” you’d gasp, poor knobbly thighs just slapping against each other. choso’s hips had the inside of your mouth watering, and you only wanted more. “fuck me- fuck me, f- ugh!”

your body inaudible screams with tremors and tremors of crazed shakes. once your lonely awaited finish comes, your mouth drops open but not a sound comes out. instead, a cute tiny squeak follows out of your husky larynx with your eyes carelessly rolllllling way back into the very back of your brain.

you’re seeing nothing but black as you’re riding out your orgasm, creaming down on choso’s cock with not a single thought in mind. “mhm- that’s it, ride it out baby, ride it out,” choso slows his hips to your defeated rhythm, feeling your body underneath him convulse rapidly. you saw stars, galaxies of them in fact, maybe even a few comets.

“c- choso,” you’d moan, hearing pitchy rough breaths from behind you. the wiiiiide stretch of his dick still makes itself known and you’re humming, batting your dampened lashes sporadically at the sudden overwhelming wave of elation. “fuuuckk- more,” and he ogles as you make him pull out, cutely flipping yourself over with a flushed look of sensual desire.

despite how you were just drenched in your sweat, you still craved more. choso stares at you sprawling your legs out fully, bringing two dry padded fingers towards your sensitive clit before pinching it. “l.. let’s try mating press, baby.”

“you’re impossible,” he sheepishly says, with a wry head shake, gingerly placing his weight on top of you. his onyx-colored ponytails were all scruffy, and he was sweating from all corners of his forehead. with a loud, wet ‘plap!’ noise, choso sloppily re-aligns his tip before it sloooowly starts to sink its way inside of your wet pussy, reuniting.

“hah- fine, but ‘m gonna have to…stretch you a bit, baby,” and you moan, feeling choso raise your leg, nearly hooking it over your head before positioning the other limb to mimic the same. sealing your trembling lips with an open-mouthed kiss, he grunts against your twisting tongue as he’s hungrily bottoming out inside of you.

“gotta get my baby all stretched,” he slips out a throaty whimper, hardened cock barreling further inside of you before he surprises random sticky kisses on your raised ankle.

“but, l- let’s…test out that flexibility while we’re at it, hm?”

SUGURU ★ GETO.

geto and backshots are a deadly combo within itself.

“take it. take it, taaake it,” he growls, his carnally encouraging words sounding more like a looping chant by the second. you’re moaning with his palm slapped against your mouth, shamefully drooling all over his hand in the process. of course, staring right in front of you too, was no one other than yourself. arched over, hunched over too, and lewdly crossed-eyed.

you probably looked a sight.

ruffled, shaggy strands of hair glued to your forehead. as your jaw was goofily hanging—just forever open with an agape ‘lil mouth that’s covered with geto’s hand, your wet tongue licks a path around his warm palm.

gasping for any ounces of air that you could get with his hand printed over your mouth, your cheek then prints against the cold, frigid mirror with how harder his thrusts were getting. “f- fuck, sugu mmph!” you coo out, feeling your thighs tense at each popping slam. remnants of whiteish, dried cum painted against your thighs. a licentious, dirty reminder of just how much he was claiming you from behind.

round after round and it turned from minutes to hours of just getting filled from every orifice with geto’s hot, creamy cum. geto’s cock wears you thin in every goopy crevice ‘n corner of your wet pussy, causing your poor larynx to sound hoarse from all the moaning within no time.

he’s pumping in all inches—grinding into your hips as you moved, cutely trying to jostle your waist to his rhythm but failing horribly.

“mngh- slutty girl, look at that ass tryna fuck me back. A for effort, i guess,” he grunts with a sneer, admiring the tears of sweat that started to gloss down your arched spine. so pretty..

almost looking akin to a necklace, a huge hand wraps around your throat before making sure you face yourself in the mirror. geto slides his other palm away from your mouth, scoffing at the webby sleek strings of spit following before he rubs it all over your mouth. “don’t look away, look at how your face gets when you…hah- slut yourself out on my dick, doll.”

“ugh- harderrrr,” your moans were starting to turn bouncy, and he was fucking you with every damn fiber of his being. geto’s buckled knees bury into the silk padded mattress and he’s dragging out hoarse gasp after gasp from your parched throat. his hits against your ass were loud, they sounded like bongos with how rough his pelvis creates music with each drumming hit.

“mmh- so good, so fuckin’ good,” your whines continue to drag out, and you’re tasting treacly salted saliva on your rosé buds.

through your peripherals, you spot geto working his hips into you. you couldn’t help but take a glance at his snatched waist that’s just so slim. he’s swerving into you at full speed, creating 360 donuts with his sloppy hips as he accelerates. geto sucks in a sharp, smoky break as he continued to plummet into your cunt over ‘n over again until you’re cutely clinging onto the mirror for leverage.

“cute,” he clicks his tongue, lowering his darkened irises down the curving arch of your bent-over back. from behind you, you heard him whistling at your watch before spanking your ass. the glossy sweat that remained on your backside shines bright, brighter than any sun—creating a creeping glow in the sunlight from the cracked open curtain in the distance. “good girl. lie back. all ya gotta do is.. hah- lie back ‘n let me have my way with this sloppy-fuckin’-cunt.”

each malleable thrust gets enunciated with each hard whack against your pussy that makes your teeth jitter. you’re moaning, barely able to keep up with his zealously, agile pace before the slit tip of his cock diagonally slithers its way near your clit. milliseconds pass before you then start to feel his crowned tap-tap tapping against your bumpy cervix. it’s a mean tap, and your eyes crossed even further together with your tongue abjectly lolling out. “s- shit, that spot. that.. mngh- suguru!”

a handful of nerves swim their way into the bottom parts of your stomach before you whine. you’re panting continuously, gently shoved face first against the now fogged mirror that was in directly front of you. it’s steaming up because of your harsh, wheezing breaths before you squeal. it’s quick, but your legs end up collapsing and so does your entire body.

“ ‘m cummin’, fuck!” you yawp, gasping breathlessly at that sliiiight turn of his pivoting hips. geto’s cock runs all through you, kneading your cunt with each brutal thwack.

sweetened whimpers pour from your lips once you end up meeting your euphoric maker. “ugh- s.. suguru,” low, pulled lids of your eyes start to feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open. you’re pussy’s wetly squalling, letting off squelches as you smothered geto’s thick cock from swollen top to bottom with your slick essence. “f- fuck, spank m-”

“quiet, baby,” geto shushes you, a hand wrapping back around the base of your throat. with a swift slap of his roughened palm, he spanks you again anyway, and you purr out a cute ‘ooooh’ right away.

your tongue still sticks out against the reflecting steamed mirror. you’re so close to it that you’re nearly suffocating from your tepid, pants of breath washing back into your face. he’s still inside, feeling you weakly try to arch your ass up but your face slumps further against the glass. “aw, relax, sweetheart. i gotcha,” and as you’re still whimpering, geto pulls out his vermillion-colored tip.

he silently hisses at your dewy, wet grip, gazing at your dripping cunt that’s covered with sparkling white strands of your mess. groaning, he rubs his angered tip over your pussy in a greedy circle.

“mhm- keep goin’ suguru,” you’d frantically toss your hips around in a circle - begging, aching for him to fuck you against the mirror again. it’s even cute with how your ass did a wordless cute shake against his leaky tip, rubbing your very entrance over his sweltering, dewy-coated tip.

“god- such a fuckin’ slutty girl, can never say no to that preeeetty-shakin’-ass,” geto huffs, pausing between each word as his hand swipes against your tender feeling rear. still aroused, he grunts as his bulky cock twitches each time your skin jiggles against the sharp greeting contact.

geto flips you over with one beefy arm, tying his hair into a hurried slothful ponytail before cocking his head. “legs, raise ‘em for me, high baby,” and once you comply, geto hums, closing the distance between you and him by sliiiiding his way in between your raised legs.

in a husky voice, he smacks his plump tip against your pussy before biting your bottom lip while maintaining direct eye contact. “hah- that’s it, stretch those fuckin’ legs for sugu, sweetheart. and while you do thaaat,” geto grumbles, stealing a low-pitched moan from you once he delves a thick finger inside of your swallowing cunt.

“i gotta make her cream on me at least an extra four more times, heh..”

NANAMI ★ KENTO.

“like this, sweetheart?” nanami murmurs, grabbing a secure amount of hair to wholly fit into the coarse palm of his hand.

he’s gentle nonetheless, hearing your cute shallow breaths once his hips fatally stop. as you’re arched over a side of the bed, your wobbly hands piercing into the fat mattress. nanami’s unpredictable movements have you speechless, blinking thrice because who knew such a man was so nasty in bed?

of course—the only exception was his pretty wife, you. and nanami didn’t mind getting kinky for his beloved precious, even if you wanted to try something as vulgar as backshots..

he’s all the way inside you, not even moving an inch and yet it felt like he was already obliterating every part of your goopy, clamping walls.

“mhm- yeah. fuck me ‘n then just start pullin’ on it if i try to crawl away, ‘ken.” you moan, feeling that all too familiar thumping sensation arises between your quaking, sore thighs. near the very undersides, you felt the brief pants of tenderness lingering against your skin.

nanami tilts his head, shrugging out a complying, “alriiight,” and you gasp once he softly tightens the grip against your hair just a bit. “this okay? ‘m gonna start movin’ for you.“ earnestly impatient, you nod, and the blond tries to suppress a smile. already, he felt your cute body trying to wriggle away but as you said, he gently tugged you back by the hair. “anything for the kinky wife i guess. brace yourself though, honey. work’s been.. hah- rough.”

and when nanami fucks, he Fucks - capital F.

you’re holding back pitiful muffled moans as he pulls off his tie, softly stuffing it in your mouth. it’s tasteless - and you’re whimpering, feeling every stinging whack from his hips slam into your ass every three seconds.

nanami’s sweat-drenched fingertips caress both sides of your curvaceous hips—feeling all down your loving physique as he’s ferociously fucking into you at such a disrespectful speed.

every thrust was insanely languid, barely giving you time to gather up a thought in your dull, empty brain. “kento, ohmygoddd,” your voice timidly cracks, already drenching the end part of his thigh with your bubbly drool. he’s churning your insides through and through like one would churn a fresh batch of hot butter. and god- nanami’s just rocking into the rear of your ass like a boat that’s forever rickety. “harder.. pull it, baby, pull my fuckin’ hair.”

“yes, ma’am,” he raspingly responds, having the same firm grip on your hair. dozens of seconds later, a nice amount of your hair yanks back and your eyes cutely widen. you fall back and so do your hips, continuously and sloppily landing back against his hips. it’s still gentle nonetheless, but his hips were so cruel. you’d never get used to that heavenly stretch of his cock.

it’s mouthwatering, and you’re just melting at the sheer sounds of each bouncy slap! of balmy skin. nanami hears the cute bundle of gargled whines struggle to leave your throat once he grabs your hair, and he purrs. “mhm, liked that, sweetheart? should i pull again? can’t leave my woman all horny ‘n unsatisfied, hm?”

“mmph- pull.. hah- harder, ‘ken,” you nod, your words still a bit hushed and gagged from his work tie. the bed’s so unsteady, you were just it was gonna snap into two at any second. as he keeps up a decent rhythm, your jaw ends up dropping once his peachy tip greets your clit with a knocking slam. he hears another gasp slip from your lips before your ass lifts.

with another solid yank, nanami pulls a bit harder, and this time, he’s faintly snickering at how cute your body was - just slamming back into him like it already knew its territory. riiiight as his fattened tip makes itself known to your pretty, pulsating clit, you squeal out a bellowing yelp.

there!

like a q-tip, his rounded cockhead swaaaabs its way around your tightening entrance before the deep thrusts continue. your eyes were just bulging out each of their sockets, and you were speechless for a while before squealing out a cute, “ohmygu- ‘ken something’s coming. s- something’s coming kento.”

“i know, sweetheart,” he whispers, slowing his sloppy hits down but making sure that his thrusts remain deep deep deep. he studies your gyrating ass and how it flawlessly ricocheted against his skin. with each barbaric smack of your ass clashing into his pelvis, he feels both sweaty pounds of skin arise with blistering temperature.

but the last thing you’d expect was to gush right onto his cock, legs cutely twitching with a squalling whimper ripping out of your strained chords. the release was so sudden, that your eyes widened dramatically as your lips parted into a pretty bewildered ‘oh!’

the feeling was just so erogenous, and your entire body underneath his fell into jerking spasms. “my, oh myyy,” nanami gruffly murmured, still maintaining a gentle yet tight grip on the back of your head. soft, massaging fingers glissade down your scalp at his grasping hold before he feels your ass weakly writhing back into him. “messy girl, that’s it. make a mess for me, sweetheart. ‘s okay, let go.”

“u- ugh!” your brows curl, and your cunt was just dripping like a faucet - profusely. his tip stopped all types of movement, brushing against your convulsing clit as you kept gushing and he grunts. right there - right fuckin’ there.. he felt your pulse, relishing in the faint sloshing sounds that occurred between the stickiness of both fleshy thighs meshing against the skin. “fuck, fuck, fuuuck ‘ken.”

“ ‘y did so good,” nanami breathes, his wet tie drenched with your saliva flopping out past your lips. he pulls out, and his dick exits your watery pussy with a cute plap. the sheets were all soaked with your wetness and nanami’s panting, smearing his flesh-colored crown around your shriveling entrance. pulse after pulse, you’re still eager for him to get back inside despite how your entire body was shivering from your recent mind-boggling finish. “always loved myself a wet wife,” nanami softly smacks his veiny cock against your teary slit.

“the wetter the better, haah- darlin.’ let’s try that again,” and you whine, feeling his dick slap against your crying, wet pussy. with a click of his tongue, nanami lets off a deep, heavy sigh. “think she needs a bit more.. ah- velocity training.”

SUKUNA ★ RYŌMEN.

“heh- your smart mouth’s almost as annoying as your weak arch, little girl,” sukuna snickers, keen-witted canines briefly poking out his lips.

you’re moaning, letting off occasional pitchy swear words whilst getting absolutely destroyed by the king of curses himself. he always treated your pussy like an enemy — using his favorite technique, absolutely annihilating your g-spot.

the fleecy, thin straps of sukuna’s kimono tickled against your skin as he’s driving his thick cock deep into you with such rigorous might. hit after hit after hit, sukuna’s dick was just as angry as he was.

as you were whining, your voice was steadily forming raw and strained as those cute little ‘oooh’s!’ sweetly cried out from your dried voice box.

his tip’s got such a curve that makes your insides tingle. “oh….f- fuuuck,” you heave in a single sharp breath, feeling your tummy cowardly tuck its way inward. sukuna’s cock’s greedy, and each stroke makes your eyes bulge wider ‘n wider out of their sockets. he’s bottomed balls deep, and you could hear his animalistic pants bellow huskily from behind you. playfully, sukuna trails a claw down your back, watching you writhe at something as simple as his touch.

“ ‘m not gonna last, ‘kuna, s- so big, stretchin’ me so fuckin’ go—ah!” you whine, getting a face full of a fluffed pillow. he’s got an angle that makes you feel it all, every single inch pumping inside of your cunt—introducing itself against your pearled nub each passing second.

his hips were viciously vicious, and you’re just drooling from the cracks of your mouth at each girthy centimeter prying your insides open. “ughhh- don’t stop, f- fuck me. fu—”

“ahh,” sukuna tuts, and you whimper once his palm wetly spanks against your stuffed pussy. pasty, teary droplets briskly coat his hand before he rubs circles against your tender clit. with his hips securely pressed right up against your jerking ass, sukuna licks your ear. “you’ll get your turn to speak. but right now, she’s the star right now, not you. have some class, wet girl.”

as popping wet sloshes cry from the opened arc of your legs, and you feel sukuna’s forked tongue flick against your neck. “mmh- she’s so nasty, talk talk taaaalk. jus’ like her dumb fuckin’ owner..” sukuna brings your hips up with two hardened palms, making sure your face stays shoved deep into the mattress.

with a cute wiggle, your ass rewinds into him and he grunts at the immediate jiggle. with a loud, briefly stinging whack, he spanks you—hearing those cute ‘lil clamors leave your cracking throat before seconds later and he’s back to thrusting.

sukuna’s cock was dangerous - you already felt yourself getting more ‘n more stupid the harder his hips snapped into you. vehemently, his strokes turn languidly sloppy within seconds, and you mouth out a cute silent ‘ohmyfuckin’godddd!’ blood-shot eyes rove down your bouncing frame and how you were bent over just for him and only him. “mng- m’lord, there- there pleaaaase!”

“don’t know who’s louder,” the demon snarls under his breath in a tone dripping with amused mockery. he stares as your ass extends upward and you’re arched right over, face pathetically buried into his velveteen-made sheets.

every clashing pap of ridden skin never failed to echo through his chambers, and the gluey feeling of sticky, crashing thighs makes his fangs sharply nip into his lip. “mngh-” his dick swirls a shape-like motion all arooound your pussy, easing a secret pathway way into your cervix and you short circuit instantaneously.

sukuna huffs lowly, clawing more of his black whetted fingernails into the skin of your plush ass. “you or this fuckin’…hah- talkative pussy. can’t even hear myself think.”

“suh- suku-” you squeak, dumbing down from each second he spends battering his fat cock inside of you. your walls were tight, desperately clinging to him, clamping vigorously before popping out a cacophony of wet plops. your eyes were already rolled back, and your blocked vision met with a dark void of darkness. “ah-” you end up drooling, a stream of saliva starting to bubble from the corners of your twitching lips. sukuna’s deeeeep, nearly creating an unforgettable bulge with how he easily pushes his entire weight against your ass.

your mind’s completely empty . . but, you’re transported right back to reality once you hear a splitting crack of wood. as sukuna’s still driving his thick cock into your slobbering pussy like a madman, he hears that eerie ‘creeeeak’ sound.

it’s the headboard—and, within seconds, the bed awkwardly flops, and you heard the boxspring weakly snap from underneath. “ngh-” sukuna grunts, the both of you briefly collapsing from the bed calling quits to support the ridiculous weight. your release pauses as you pant, wondering what happened, and the curse just slyly snickers at you. “ ‘s all good. just a little bed break,” and you felt his forked, slimy tongue lick down your sweat-covered back. he huskily ‘ah’s’ once he allows his tongue to savor your natural taste before groaning.

his cock’s aching.. and the top of his cock’s flushing a pearly, shimmery color of velvet red. a thumb of his pulls a bit of lingering foreskin before he brings his crowned cockhead toward your pretty puckering hole. sukuna notices you trying to crane your head to look at your ass but he tsks, making you face back in front.

“turn that head back the fuck around. just because the bed broke doesn’t mean ‘m not done breakin’ this pussy too, little girl. now open up for me. goood girl.”

SATORU ★ GOJO.

“oh, oh- wait a minute, angel,” satoru pauses mid-thrust, pressing his naturally sculpted pelvis against your ass. you’re moaning once he wraps a smooth hand around your throat, bringing pink glossed lips toward the lobe of your ear. “are you cryinnn’?” and indeed, you were.

he’s been hitting you from the back so deep ‘n so good that you’re fighting back fat, glittery tears. they stick to your lashes, nearly blinding you with each flapping blink and you moaned for him to not stop - not now, not ever.

snickering smokily, satoru then starts to use his other hand to maneuver sloppy, wet shapes around your slippery, stuffed cunt.

“sooooo tender for me, hm?” and satoru’s lanky dick stretched you thin - wearing you thin with every long inch, causing your brows to cutely twist in rapture. “tsssk. can’t help but be emotional and wet for me, cute..”

“s- satoru, don’t stop- please,” your sweet pleads and begs instantly making his cock twitch inside of you. you shuddered, feeling a vein of his prod on his foreskin, nipping against your insides as he moved. satoru was so long, but even longer inside..

it’s probably been round after round, but you’re already salivating for more. his slim body was pushed right up against yours, and you felt the snowy, wooly hairs that were taped to his base drag all across his skin. he’s such a tease though. you could merely feel that annoying smug grin boring right into the back of your skull, despite how you weren’t even facing him. “ngh- finish.. fucking me.”

“oh! sounds like a demand, and y’know how i don’t like being given orders,” he hoarsely whispers, two rough hands pulling up your ass to create a deeper slope.

he’s in deep, idly massaging your clit with his tip not shifting at all. your wetness perfectly coats the entire thick base of his cock, and satoru could hear your pleading little squelches trying to sweet talk him at the same time too. “aw, is that back talk ‘m hearing?” and you whimper, hearing a slap sound between your legs.

satoru spanks your cunt - feeling you wriggle, desperately trying to rut back against him but he makes you halt. “ah- patience,” and your sweet whines fueled his ego oh-so-good. satoru’s slim waist sensually rocks against your ass, and you’re smacked by his rearing hips time ‘n time again. you’re probably so stupefied. your dripping tongue hung all out of your mouth as languid, airy pants roughly seized away from your lungs. “ ‘m gonna cum, satoru. you’re hittin’ that spot s- sooo good, mmg-”

“yeah, tell me how ya really feel,” and you gasp, feeling him push your knee into your chest. you’re still laid flat on your back, and now—he’s got an even deeper angle. his cock explores every part of your pussy, and that sticky grip on your ass makes him groan against your earlobe.

“think you just might have the strongest pussy, baby. grippin’ all… on me,” and as his voice deepens, maybe even quavering a bit from how sensitive he felt, satoru sucks sloppy kisses against your neck. “mhm- don’t think i can beat her. nope.. not when she’s being so fuckin’ hah- sloppy, shit.”

slosh after wetted slosh could be heard from between the open space of your legs and you’re whimpering. his tip’s constant thrashing so merciless - filthily showering your pearled nub with a kiss after pounding kiss until your legs were on the verge of snapping shut.

satoru’s closet pressed up against your bare rotating ass, grinding his washboard abs into your body and it just feels so hot. he swats a hand against your ass, intently sucking his teeth at the three-second jiggle before moaning lowly into your ear. “heh.. there’s that cute g-spot- i mean weak spot,” and with a rude collision—satoru’s thrusts slam into you at full impact, causing your brain to nearly hotwire.

it’s so abrupt that you didn’t even recognize your voice when your shrieking squeal came out. “mmph!” your eyes hugely bulge, and his cock’s stuffed soso many inches inside—sneaking a hand underneath your tummy just to feel you cutely heaving around his size. as you’re creaming down his hardened shaft.

sublimely, it stands tall inside of you and he heartily chuckles at your body’s retreating response. you’re shaking, barely being able to move your hips and your head ends up falling into the cushioned pillow with a soft thud. “s- satoru, don’t.. don’t stop,” and as your tongue remains lies flat down your lips, you put out a needy sob. “oh my go- hah- ‘m still.. cummin’.

“hm, okay,” satoru whispers, skipping a few warm fingers down your spine. you tense at his touch, and your back slightly raises before his dick loudly pops! it's way out of your sensitive pussy. trails ‘n trails of glistening, perspiring sweat paints down his pale frame before he flips you over. satoru treats you like a doll - a rag doll, and before you know it, you’re straddling on top of him.

with blurred, faded vision, you could see a cunning grin stretching across his pinkened lips before he aligns you. “ah, jus’ lie back against my chest, good girl,” he praises you, feeling your back recline against his ripped abdomen. you’re moaning, still shattering all rows of your teeth at your recent eye-rolling orgasm before satoru slings two arms underneath your legs.

you gasp, letting off a soft ‘oof!’ once he suddenly lifts you, openly gawking in awe at your creamy hole hovering over his crimson-shaded tip. “new position baby. ‘m gonna try usin’ infinity on this pretty cunt,” and you moaned, hearing a looooong stretch of his dick from behind you and you gulped.

was he-

satoru was making his cock longer, you didn’t even know he could do that but the anxious flutter between your thighs was almost embarrassing. your tummy steadily caves in ‘n out as you feel him starting to gradually sink into you.

attacking the left part of your neck with a barrage of wet, starving kisses—satoru hoarse grunts. “y’know what they say. eighth orgasm’s the charm, angel. now biiiiig fuckin’ stretch, lemme teach her how strong i can really get with a few extra inches, heh..”

TOJI ★ FUSHIGURO.

“c’mooon, pretty thing. let’s see that ass show me what it’s fuckin’ made of,” toji grunts, slightly tilting his right thigh up. he’s rude - hips far ruder though, and he’s just straight up plunging deep into your cervix until your tongue’s just sloppily hanging out your mouth.

with your lips wholly coated with a natural gloss of saliva, you’re damn near hysterical. he’s hitting you so deep, biting his lower lip each time your ass does that cute sticking smack right against his sharpened pelvis. toji’s washboard abs flex ‘n tense through his dingy white tank before he swats against your ass. “mhm- atta girl. entertain this dick girl, entertain- fuckin’- me.”

“mngh!” you squealed, your incoherent babble turning into muffles against the pillows in front of you. toji’s whole right-hand fits over your head and he lightly shoves your face into the mattress.

you’re whimpering, each rough slam into your rear sending staticky ringing through your ears. he’s so nasty, plowing into you with such lively horsepower that it makes you start to pant like a literal greyhound. “ ‘m gonna fuck, gonna fuckin’ cum, t- toooji.”

with a scoff, toji spanks your ass. “yeah? that’s nice.” his tone’s fuckin’ sly, he couldn't care less. your cunt’s so slippery, slickly gluing against his hairy base that piercingly pap! pap! paps! right into both twirling globes of your ass.

the sounds of repeated smacking flesh pitched louder and louder as both bodies rutted into each other. the bedroom filled with harmonies of rough slaps and groans, as well as your added whimper and whines from how good toji was plowing you into the shared king-sized bed. toji’s a menace when it came to his hips though.

he does this thing where he stuffs you all the way full with one single thrust….then pulls out… then back in…then back fuckin’ out..

“mhm- good…good, goooood,” his voice lowers, and so did his angle. toji’s cock had a bit of lean, lazy hook and it’s just sexy. it’s noticeable curve forever made itself known by just doing a single shimmy with his wide hips. from top to bottom of his cock that’s prodding with lightening shaped veins all over, he’s insanely big. “hah- look at that cute ass jus’ bouncin’ all on me. goddamn, babygi- fuck.”

toji even arched his back too, combing a few thickset fingers through his murky dark strands before feeling his dick swell up from the creamed top. he’s close, and with how good you were gripping around him, it wasn’t helping things much at all.

your insides were so gluey, sticking against him like pasty adhesive, determined to wring around him like the lewdest vice imaginable. “goddamn-” he groans, thin nostrils immediately flaring.

your pussy’s grip was ruthless - you squeezed and squeezed and squeezed, hearing toji’s grumbles huff underneath his breath. “ ‘m gonna make this tummy so nice ‘n plump,” he grouses, ravened brows curling together. vein after vein throbbing through his cock as he’s deepening his hits, giving the back of your tank top a firm grasp. you fall back into his cock at the pull, moaning and sweetly ‘ooh!’ ing at each jackhammering hit of his cock.

“mmgh- cum in me, toji,” you whimper, rocking your body against the dingy sage sheets with no shame. your body’s all slumped, humping against the bed with the front of your body as your right cheek pressed into the mattress.

toji’s buried to the very hilt, and his burning-up crown alone even started french kissing your cervix, dozens of times too. it’s indisputably sloppy, and you let off a gasp once you feel him swirling his stout tip alllll around your gummy insides, tap tap tapping against that beloved spongey texture. “don’t miss, f- fuck.”

“hah- with an arch like that, y’er askin’ for at quadruplets,” and his hips brutally snap into you. for a second, toji’s cock leaves you brain dead with the cause before his heavy, life-altering shaft. that exact spot that feels a bit bumpy, his tip rams against it and it scratches the left lobe of your brain so good. toji snickers, hearing you left off a pornographic ‘aaaah!’ at the abrupt discovered pressure. “ngh- better take it all then, don’t waste a fuckin’ drop, girl.”

it happens with such quickness—toji’s lowly growls, his husky orgasm sounding more like a gruff pitching battle cry. he’s slowing his hips before holding your wobbly hips in place. right as he’s cumming in you, toji’s burly body presses against your backside. you could feel him still grinding, although it’s a bit more weak.

“ugh- fillin’ you so well gotta getcha niiiice ‘n round f’m again. can’t leave my pretty mama without a.. hah- fill,” and it starts to pour deep inside. it oozes inside of your cunt, and it flows out so quickly that some even start to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. pretty, sloppy squelches could be heard from the occurring mess and toji dryly swallows. “mhm- she’s as nasty as you, babygirl. look at her swallowin’ it all up. so good.”

“tooooji,” you’d whimper, gasping once you felt a big thumb snail its way down your sopping pussy. wads of cum race down your thighs, and with a sloshing wet pop, toji pulls out his cock that was frothing from the velvet-reddened tip. he grunts, admiring your ass that still had itself raised, and he then leans down. toji inches his face toward your backside, using two wide hands to spread your ass apart.

“haaaah,” he pants against your dripping cunt, rolling out his tongue. you whimpered, clicking your teeth together once he starts to lap up the globs cum that was spilling down your thighs. it’s a loud sluuuurp! from toji’s mouth that gives you butterflies, but he then gives your clit a sweet munch with both pairs of lips.

toji rubs his lip scar against your pulsating cunt before snickering against your entrance, cleaning up his cum that glistened down your poor, aching slit that’s just so overflooded. “mhm- keep this arch, pretty girl. ‘m fuckin’ starved,” toji spits against your slick-covered heat before allowing the sheeny strings to land flat on his rolled out tongue.

“…and this cute pussy’s just askin’ to be devoured, heh..”

INO ★ TAKUMA.

“back… shots?” ino lets out a tremulous short breath, nearly drooling at the prurient sight of you arching over the armrest of the couch.

you were so breathtaking, even in such an erotic hunched-over position—face up ‘n pretty ass down. just to top it all off though, your pulled-to-the-side-panties that exposed your flooded dripping pussy only made things ten times worse. you even dared to sprightly throw your hips around in a circle, hearing a cute needy whine pull leave from ino’s lap. “o- okay, i can- i can do backshots.”

“don’t be scared, ino,” you hush in a sweet coaxing tone, your voice as smooth as silk. all types of warmth lingered on your tone. he’d probably cum just from listening to you speak if he wasn’t too careful. reaching a thumb from behind you, you drag a plump thumb down your puffed slit. soaked right away, ino watches before bringing the flushed crownhead of his cock towards your wet fluttering slit. it’s so wet—just aptly pouring with syrupy slick from the sides, the corners, hell- even the inner wet crevices…

ino felt his heart pounding, and he was holding back a moan once his plump cockhead swirls a circle around your swallowing entrance. you moan, arching more before humming. “mhm- like that. now fuck me, baby. fuck m-”

and oh- he does.

ino was a very quick learner because, within no time, you found yourself arched right over with his capped tip being greedily swallowed by your famished entrance.

ino’s so frantic - and it’s almost cute how he had no literal rhythm. he’s getting lost in your pussy—but after a few sloppy starting thrusts, he surprisingly locates every tender spot like it's nothing. you shudder as your hips start to rise, feeling a few wet droplets splat against your arched backside and oh, he’s really drooling now..

his breaths turn from steady to heavy within seconds, and he’s just hypnotized at how pretty your cunt took in all the turgid inches of his shaft. “s- sorry, can’t help it,” he meekly apologizes, wiping a hairy arm over his spit-glossed lips. his hands awkwardly grip your ass before you feel him swipe a slender digit toward your neglected hole.

“oooh,” he whimpers to himself, plugging it with the entirety of his stubby thumb. with his buttoned nose cutely wrinkling at the sensations of being full from both orifices, you whine out his name thrice. sweet repeated chants of ‘ino!’ ‘inooo!’ or ‘iiii-noooo!’ and it’s so melodic to ino, in a salacious way at least.

your cunt dewily clenches at him toying with your slick hole, and he pulls out his thumb before groaning. “god- ‘s no fair, baby,” and he’s still clinging onto your bouncing hips, staring as your ass starts to fuck back into him. speaking of toys, he couldn’t help but moan at how you rewinded your hips back into him oh-so perfectly.

it was like your entire waist was controlled, and ino’s grabbing at the plump cheeks of your ass at every moment he could. the slaps of skin were so loud, and they echoed through every cornering wall in the dimly lit bedroom. “don’t even…hah- know what ‘ta do with all this ass. phew- think ‘m gonna… faint.”

“don’t be dramatic, ino,” you skewed your hips around his cock, swallowing in a deep breath at the overly thick tummy-tucking stretch that surprises your pussy. he’s just big - rummaging through every important part of your guts before slap! you’re met with a stony coarse wham that makes your tongue flop out on his own. “f- fuck, right there. keep hittin’ that spot, oh- fuck!”

ino’s already in love… and, your hips were a smooth talker, if anything.

the way you moved and perfectly corresponded to him, he’s getting teary. it feels so damn good, the familiar tightening of his balls makes him nearly choke on an incoming exhale as he watches you throw back against him.

it was almost comical—you wanted to try backshots, and ino could barely keep up with your pace because technically speaking, you were fucking him. “god- baby, ‘m gonna cum. can’t.. can’t hold it, lemme finish inside pleaseplease,” and as he’s babbling, you could hear him sniffling.

your pussy was so good that it had him choking on his own words, stammering clumsily over every whiny syllable. ino’s hands never leave your hips, and he swats a few palms at your doughy ass that jerks right into him before sighing. you’re so stuffed already, but the thought of him dumping such a hot, buttery batch of cum inside you had you humming in longing contempt. “mhm- tell me, baby. your pussy’s gonna f- fuckin’ kill me, hah-”

“insiiiide, do it,” you whine, slightly raising your hips. god- the view, your slick twitching cunt had ino hearing his whole heartbeat through his ears. he was damn near mesmerized, and his tip was just weeping at the constant tender rubbing it was creating against your clit. your entrance slicked against him like velcro, and ino’s jaw was already clenching at the clingy sensation.

with of few more pops of his weak hips, ino eventually does cum - and it’s a lot.

a knot of, gooey fresh cum shoots right into you, quickly traveling through your insides. ino whines way louder than you, and he falls flat against your back. “ugh- baby,” he grunts, his voice cracking as soon as he falls into your embrace. it’s hot, and you moan once he continues to spurt thin ribbons straight deep into your womb. timid, soppily hands suffered with insane amounts of sweat before you felt his palms all around your body. even with ino still rawly pumping into you, he’s running his hands up and down the curvature of your waist—stopping at your ass, his favorite.

squelches ‘n squelches galore..

his softened cock remained plugging you full with all of its might—feeling your dribbling cunt tighten around the entirety of his length. it takes him a good while before he’s finally emptied his entire load, giving himself a subtle shake to make sure it’s all deep inside of you. “good boy,” you quietly hum, rolling over, swiping a thumb down your flooded cunt. ino pants, flopping onto your chest and he looks so in love. his face was flushing the more he deeply stared at you, and your eyes widened once you realized ino’s slowly pushing the crowns of your knees up to your chest. “hah- ino?”

“ ‘m not done,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your quivering lips. he moans at the soft prod of your tongue brushing against his before his pearly-colored tip whacks against your pussy that’s still spitting out tiny clumps of his cum.

“one more round. need t- to claim these walls before i claim your heart first, baby.”

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inbabylontheywept · 4 months ago

Text

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss.

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town.

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse?

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed.

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now.

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it.

---

My job has glue traps.

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life.

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you.

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out.

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me.

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps.

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me.

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was:

Do NOT mess with animals in the building.

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences.

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop.

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve.

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover.

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell.

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair.

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right?

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes.

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil?

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question.

Who grabbed the snake? I asked.

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right.

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No.

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago.

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again.

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think.

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be.

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

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random-thot-generator · 4 months ago

Text

Ghost decides after one blind date that you're going to be his.

>>>>>

Simon isn't used to dating. A quick hook up in the loo, sure. A drunken one night stand? He's had too many of those to count. But proper courting? Hell, it's been years, maybe a decade, since he's taken a bird out on an actual date.

It's probably going to be a disaster, but he gave Johnny his word he'd go out with his bird's best friend, so he can't back out now. He'll just have to grit his teeth and power through it.

His sour outlook for the evening is forgotten the second he sees you walk in with Johnny's bird. You're no tipsy tart on the pull, like the birds he's used to dealing with. You're a proper lady, dolled up nice for your date with him. It makes his chest feel tight when he gets a good look at your pretty face and nervous little smile.

His usual gruff manner is obviously not going to fly with you, so he quickly tries to recall the mannerisms he's seen his captain use around women. He gets to his feet with Johnny when the two of you reach the table, trying his best to look less intimidating.

Johnny introduces the two of you, and Simon melts inside when he takes your soft little hand in his for the first time. His brain goes fuzzy, dark eyes glazing over, and he's not sure what he says when he greets you, but it earns him a smile.

"It's really nice to meet you, Simon," are the first words you say to him.

Your voice is soft and sweet, and the way you say his name? Oh, he's gonna need to hear more of that, and often.

For the first time in a long time, Simon's worried about what someone thinks of him. He's worried he'll put you off with his harsh manner. So, he minds his words and gentles his tone. He slows his steps to match your pace and tucks your small hand at his elbow to keep you close and safe. He's holding doors and pulling out your chair. He compliments your dress and hair.

And when your heel catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, he doesn't bark a laugh or say something mean, wouldn't bloody dream of it. No, he catches you before you fall, and all that softness in his hands makes something shift in his brain. You're such a fragile little thing, delicate as spun sugar. You need a big nasty mutt like him to protect you, take care of you, and he's more than willing to do the job.

When the date is over, Simon sees you home, and you kiss him on your front stoop. It's not all groping hands and tangling tongues. It's a gentle press of lips, his big hands cradling your face, the sweet intimacy making his eyes flutter shut. He's floating when he finally gets back in his truck and drives himself home.

Instead of going to bed, Simon begins to formulate a plan of strategy. He figures it'll take a few more dates before you invite him into your flat, and several more after that before you invite him into your bed, then eventually into your life. It might take months, even a year or more. That's alright, though. If his years in the military have taught him anything, it's patience.

Simon knows how to play the long game. He'll go at your pace, let you get used to having him around, then make himself indispensable to you. No one will treat you as good, meet your every need and desire the way he will. He won't stop until he is your world, your reason for being. Your everything.

And when enough time has passed, he'll claim you completely as his. He's going to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly, then tuck you away safe and sound in one of those cute country cottages he looked up online. You'll be his little missus, and he'll be your tamed beast, keeping his teeth and claws hidden but at the ready.

By the time he arrives at your flat the next evening for your second date, he's already got your engagement ring in his safe at home and the names of your future children picked out.

And when you text him the day after to invite him for dinner, the new name he replaced yours with pops up on his screen.

It says 'Missus Riley', of course.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty

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hoshigray · 7 months ago

Text

⊹˚୨ Too Sweet ✮NOT✮ to Spoil! ୧˚⊹ | jjk men

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ choso, kento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × how their sweet sub is treated.

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - Daddy/sir kink - sloppy kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation - thigh riding - squirting - dry-humping/grinding - praising - sex toys - voyeurism (consensual) - face + throat-fucking - [un]protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - mention of drool/spit and tears.

word count: 6k (yikes, overkill, lol)

a. note: requested by an anon; yahooo, another one of these!!

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Kamo Chōsō ⋮ kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation + sucking - dry-humping - masturbation (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (angel, baby, sweetie).

Choso loves to have you close to him, your soft lips meshed with his, his hands roaming inside your shirt to feel your skin while yours grip his tee.

“Haahh, Choso…please.”

“I know, sweetie,” he hushes you with his lips. “I’m right here…Hmm.”

You and your boyfriend were on his bed, two figures in a close space. Choso likes having you at his place, taking this time to enjoy you all to himself. Especially after you two spent time together today, going out on a little outing and enjoying each other to start their weekend. Now, after the sunset on your way home, the two of you use the night to spark more intimate moments.

Choso gropes your chest after sneaking his hands under your bra. The softness of your mounds has him sigh, his slender fingers sinking into the plumpness. The kiss breaks for him to observe as you lift your shirt, the sight having him gulp thickly from what he’s doing to you as you evoke cute noises by the tweezes of your nipples.

“Choso,” you whine, your hands finding his shoulders to grab onto. “Please, keep touching me…”

The brown-headed one nods and steadily descends his face, kissing gently on your exposed chest. You mewl at the contact of his lips on your skin, latching onto them for a second longer for you to shake. Your breath hitches at the feel of his mouth brushing your nipple, mouth agape at the feel of his tongue inching closer to your bud. Slow swishes have you ball your fists until he decides to take the tip into his mouth wholly to suck.

You cry, “Yesss…More, touch me more.”

Choso continues to keep sucking, pleasing you with the flick of his tongue and pushing the nip to the rough of his mouth. The other hand tends to the other breast, and he moans on your body as you sneak to touch the groin of his sweatpants.

Pretty fingers rub on him, feeling the stiffening limb sheltered within getting firmer by the second. You grab hold of it, palming his erection to hear more of his moans. “D-Don’t…!”

“I want it,” you purr as you sneak your hand into the hem of his sweats. “Pleasee, I wanna make you cum…Can I?”

How could he ever dismiss you when you’re asking so nicely? He releases your nipple and maneuvers to lay on his back. The gleeful smile makes him chuckle, watching you remove his sweatpants to throw down to the bedroom floor, along with your frilly skirt and panties.

Choso groans as you bring your bare cunt to his erect penis, pressing it down to his abdomen as you begin to rock your hips to and fro. He whimpers; the touch of your folds has him hanging by a thread. Chocolate orbs stuck to the display of him nestling between the lips of your lower region. Fuck, you felt too good, your slick sticking to him like goo and wetting his shaft.

“Fuck, he sighs deeply. “You feel…so good, baby.”

The comment makes you titter, placing your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your hips move a little faster. He holds you by the waist, sinking to the sensation of you pleasing him with just your labia sailing on top of him. You reach for the tip of his cock and grind your pelvis down, the movement making Choso curl his toes at the feeling on his most sensitive part.

His hips begin to jolt on their own, bucking to match your rhythm to a union. Complying, one of your hands comes around behind you to cup his balls, kneading the testes to evoke your partner to keen.

“Ghhhh, shit, shit,” he curses below you, his fingers clamping onto the skin of your waist as you hump faster. “God, you’re so good at this.”

“You gonna cum?” Your question with batting eyes, increasing the pace with the flex of your abs, a firmer grip on his scrotum. Choso nods hurriedly. “Cum for me, Choso; cum, cum!”

You pamper him with cheers as you go harder and briskly on top of his dick. You felt so fucking good, having shivers crawl up the poor pig-tailed man’s frame. All he can think about is how it would feel once he’s inside you, how tight and warm you’d sense at his solid length. Reminiscing about the familiar feeling of your snug walls swallowing him whole nearly has him choke on his spit.

“—Ahhck!! A-Angel, slow down a b—Mmmm!” There’s no point; you’re too into your thrusts that whatever happens after this is inexorable. Choso laments with quick arches, white substance evicting out of his urethra, falling with force and plaster onto the pale skin of his stomach. The shocks of his orgasm have his body jerking with pleasure.

You witness his crescendo, eyeing where every spurt of his semen is expelled. The raunchy image makes you lick your lips with a bite, your boyfriend catching his breath in huffs and pants.

“Hey, Choso,” he looks to you with such comely, dazed eyes. You remove yourself from him and lay on your back with legs risen, spreading your folds wet and sticky of your come.

“Cum inside me just like, yeah?”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Nanami Kento ⋮ masturbation (m! receiving) - licking + nibbling oral (m! receiving) - ball fondling + sucking - facials - pet names (baby, honey, love, sweetpea) - cameo: Ijichi (phone call).

He groans. "Baby, not now..."

"Please, Kento, just one time..."

Nanami should've known what he was getting into when he waltzed into his shared apartment. Work is meant to be kept out of his home, his place to relax and bask in the comfort of his leisure. However, he had to hurry and take up a phone call with one of his peers about a pressing issue, only having enough time to greet you with a kiss before pulling out his phone and walking to the kitchen.

He should've foreseen you coming into the frey, making the scenario hard enough to deal with. "Kento."

"Shhhh, not right now, love." He places his hand to brush your cheek. "Gotta take this...Hey, I'm at home. Ready when you are."

That wasn't enough for you; your lips contorted to a tiny frown. Because you're walking to his proximity by the kitchen island, your hands snake around his waist, and he chews his lip as your fingers trim the edge of his belt.

“Ken,” you whisper as you unbuckle him. “You promised.”

“Honey, please, I can’t do it—Mmmm!” You push your hands inside his pants to palm his flaccid dick—not so soft once you start touching him.

“But you swore!” He doesn’t have time for your whining or fingers motioning around between his pants and boxer briefs. “You said I could suck you off the moment you come ho—“

“Not so loud!”

“Huh, Nanami-san?”

Shit! “Sorry, Ijichi,” the blonde man apologizes. “Give me a second.” Nanami presses the mute button on the phone and looks at you with warranted bewilderment. “You can’t be doing that while I’m on the phone!”

You hit him with a pout. “But you promised I could do it!”

“Yes, I know, but—“

“And you’re the one who texted me about having such a stressful day at work,” you cut him off, pressing your body onto his. “I asked if I could help you ease some stress, and you said yes, so…I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”

“Baby—”

“Please?” You have him stuck to the kitchen counter, unable to leave your side as your hands find his chest. “I promise I won’t be too loud during your call.”

A huge sigh escapes through the man’s nostrils, groaning into his hands as if it’s a big enough shield from your pouting face. However, it’s futile once he sees your pleading eyes, beckoning him to grant you permission for this one thing you wish to do for him. You looked too precious to ignore, the twinge of his heart worsening just for even trying to go against you.

He shakes his head, “…Do it quietly. Understand?” Your facial expression perks to immediate glee, your partner wishing he had his goggles to sheathe you, blinding him. He picks up the phone and unmutes, “Okay, I’m back. What about the proposition brought by Mei Mei and…”

You quietly move on your virtue as he speaks to his colleague, his body still by the counter, giving the advantage to roam your hands around him as you please. The blonde flattens his lips to suppress any suspicious noises that could be caught by Ijichi, especially when your hand returns to his solid erection after pulling his pants down.

Short grunts evade him, making it difficult to stay composed. And you — so daring — decide to kiss the man on the lips. Oh, you were playing dirty, egging him on with a quiet moan that sounded so delightful. His erection gets firmer and firmer, practically sinking into your firm yet gentle touch.

A soft sound leaves your lips after the kiss, and you decide to slide down and attend to his dick and to leave the sand-haired man to concentrate on his call—or at least try to. His pink glans look inviting, feeling his shaft throb under your fingertips. You start by blowing on it, sending shivers up his spine.

“Mhmm, mhmm…Yeah, I agree,” he replies to the other side of the line, his eyes wandering around the kitchen to try and distract himself away from you stroking on his cock so attentively. But then, his free hand grips onto the counter when something wet whisk around the tip of his cock. “Has…Yaga ever told you about Gojo’s standing in this?”

You flick your tongue on his cockhead, slithering up from the underside to the frenulum and sucking the rough skin with smooches. You start slow by sucking in his cockhead, hallowing your cheeks, and loosening your jaw to introduce your warm orally.

The sounds you make to him aren’t avoidable, no matter how hard Nanami tries to focus on Ijichi’s voice; all it does is fade away and enhance your mewls as you suck him off. “Okay…Tha..That’s good. And what about the first years? The mission is sometime soon; should there be anyone—Nnnmph!”

Finally, his mocha brown eyes peer down to look at you—fuck, what a big mistake. You were too focused on him, slurping on his cock before coating him with your saliva and mixing in with the precum oozing out. Then, confidence fuels you to take more of him inch by inch, bobbing your head to form a rhythm where your lips meet the tippy top to the very hilt of his pubes.

“N-Nanami-san?!” Ijichi cries out from the other side. “Are you okay?”

“Gi–Give me a second,” he presses the mute button again to speak with you. “Careful with that tongue, sweetpea.” You peer up to him with hooded eyes, attempting a smile while your mouth is busy with his cock. Shit. “Sorry, I’m back.”

“Is everything all right, Nanami-san?”

“Yeah, I just…stubbed my toe on a chair.” Don’t giggle while you’re sucking on him; the vibrations feel way too good on his lower half. “Anyways, please continue...Hnnnn.”

You remove his dick from your cock and suck on the tip hard, Nanami’s free hand coming to your head to inaudibly warn you. You giggle, trailing down kisses until you reach his scrotum, playing with his testes with laps on of the tongue. Nanami’s barely hanging by a thread, even after you suck on one of his balls until it gets inside your mouth.

“—Khhh, haaah, uh-huh…Got it,” he answered aimlessly, knowing damn well he was not paying close attention to his subordinate’s words. The golden-haired man is too entranced with how you’re working on him, massaging his other ball while you kiss and suck the skin off the other. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Well, actually, there are things concerning the Kyoto School that need…” Poor Ijichi, his words drowning out from one ear and flying out to the next. You were clouding Nanami’s judgment effortlessly, returning one hand to jerk him off and your lips taking the tip for him to the back of your throat. Jesus Christ, your speed was increasing, and hold getting sturdier, his balls and shaft overwhelmed with this much enjoyment. Fuck! I’m close; his hips twitch increasingly, and his breathing is shaky.

“Kento,” your voice captures his attention. “Cum of my face, ‘kay?” You titter before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, a sign that you are ready for him. Nanami licks his teeth; you were too much for him.

Your hands irregularly jerk him off, not skipping a bit as you await his release. The golden-headed man bucks into your hands with your tempo, and his white seed spills out onto your face. He painted your face, sliding into your mouth or landing on your forehead and nose. But you voice no complaints, taking it with grace.

“….And that should be all on that matter. Sorry about having to call you after work about this,” Ijichi says while Nanami pants under his breath, his legs quivering through the aftershocks. “But I shall see you tomorrow, Nanami-san.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning to his touch as he caresses your cheek. You suck on his thumb after he wipes the semen that sticks to your lips, and he chortles hoarsely.

“See you tomorrow.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Gojō Satoru ⋮ fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping + pinching) finger-sucking - missionary position - unprotected sex (no release inside, tho) - pet names (baby, cutie, princess) - mention of saliva/spit.

Sweet things were undoubtedly Gojo Satoru’s most favorite thing worldwide.

“Ahhhnn!! Satoruuu, moreee…!”

And you, his sweet little thing, made his teeth rot the most.

If Gojo could get addicted to you, he most certainly would. And trust—he is already.

There are not many people in this world within Gojo’s proximity that he would consider “cute” or “gracious,” especially within his occupation as a jujutsu sorcerer, where hazardous dilemmas and death are nearly daily. But you, his partner, are the pure definition of perfection. He’s smitten, indeed, as you are the most treasured thing in his life with whom he wishes to share good moments and protect within his life.

He couldn’t resist you; if he could break the nation in half for you, he would surely try…However, there are times when he’ll try to break you instead. Why?

“Yeah, cutie, ya like it when my fingers go like this?”

Because you’re adorable—and that includes all sides of you.

Gojo removes his fingers out of your leaking cunt. For the past few minutes, he’s been playing with your folds within the confines of your home. The tall man has been away from you for a while, been itching to touch you—to feel you. That’s why he pulled you in and marched you to your bedroom, kissing you up a storm while unclothing you off your bottoms.

Your figure quakes at the abrupt removal of his digits. “Tahhhh, no!” You whine with scrunched brows. “P-Put ‘em baack!”

“Awww, what’s this?” He tilts his head with a sly smirk; the blindfold hiding the intensity of his gaze doesn’t help. “You like my fingers that much, huh?” A rascally chuckle is caused by how rapidly you nod your head, looking at his hand to see how much of your fluids coats his fingers. “Wow, you’re over here making a mess! Hehe, must feel that good, huh, cupcake?”

“‘Toruu, pleasee…!” You cling to his jacket. “I want them back inside!”

“Ehhhh, but you told me to stop too long ago.” Gojo then takes his fingers to your clitoris. You gasp sharply at the cold, slick-sheeted digits pressing down on your bud, sensitive from the other orgasms prior. “Said that it was too much for you.”

“Mmmm, y-yes, but I am—I was,” you whine at the pinch of your clit. He grinds it with the push and stir of his thumb. “I was…so close!”

He bites his lip; you look too cute when you’re honest, baby. “Well, make up your mind; tell me what you want.”

You gulp as your boyfriend tweaks your pearl, causing quick twitches in your thighs. “P…Please, put your fingers back inside, ‘Toru,” your hips jerk to rub his digits against your vulva and mark more of your essence on him. “I wanna cum on themm…”

Gojo uses his free hand to strip his blindfold off his face, finally letting his royal blue eyes free to view you. “Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers one more time for me?” He teases your entrance with the prints of his middle finger.

Head pounds as you nod your head. “Yess, let me!”

But then, the snow-haired man lifts his eyebrows while straightening up a bit. “You sure? You don’t wanna cum on something else?” He unzips and discards his jacket before unbuttoning his pants. “Something…better?”

Your eyes misty with wanton blink to see what he’s referring to, a silent gasp when you see his erect cock spring out. The curve of his length makes your mouth water, and the precum leaking out of his urethra to the frenulum is breathtaking. You don’t even realize your lips curling into a smile. “Yes, Satoru,” the folds of your labia space apart from spreading the crevice of your ass. “Make me feel better, please?”

Holy fuck, you would be the end of him. Azure eyes narrow, “Such a good princess,” and he coos as he smacks the tip of his dick onto your vagina.

The tip of him taps onto the slit, pushing in with every inhale you take. Your come used as lube makes the introduction accessible, and you squeal once the cockhead makes it inside. As you take Gojo inch by inch, the left curve scrapes your walls, toes curling at the contact. And once he puts all of him inside, you cry at the brush of your cervix.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he coaxes you in hushes, yet he grinds his pelvis down to the hilt. He can’t help it, loving the endearing whines you let out when he touches up on your most delicate parts. “Just let it out, alright?”

He speaks for you as his hips begin to move at a mediocre cadence, not enough time for you to prepare for the onslaught of grazes to your sweet spots and feverish pokes to your womb. “—Nngaah! W-Wait, Sa’oruu; not t’faast—Ahaaa!!” Gojo doesn’t stop, though; he is just constantly snapping his hips with a salacious hum as your walls clamp around the foreign limb ravaging your insides.

Inevitably, you howl with eyes sewn shut as your orgasm comes caving in, your cunt puckering on Gojo’s shaft as you come on him for the third time in a row. He savors the feeling of you tightening around him, thrusting sluggishly to enjoy the moment before he removes to fist himself. Your sticky fluids sheathing his cock collects on his fingers.

“Say ahhh~,” and he brings them to your lips, where you eagerly lather his digits in saliva with your tongue and suck. “Good job, cutie!”

��˚⊹ ᰔ Getō Suguru ⋮ voyeurism (consensual) - masturbation (f! + m! receiving) - sex toy; wand vibrator - squirting - clitoral play - sir kink - pet names (darling, pumpkin, sweetheart) - mention of drool/spit.

He loves watching you—his all-time guilty pleasure.

Geto sits on the armchair situated by the side of the hotel bed, where you lay with your legs spread and your panties rolled up to your thigh.

Lacy strips of material decorate your body, presenting your boyfriend with the newest lingerie you wish to spoil him with. Matching thigh-high stockings suspended by the garters keep the entire look together—a nice catch for violet eyes to consume.

But not as eye-catching as the commotion between your legs: tiny fingers are toying with your vulnerable cunt, sticking the middle one inside with the help of your slick. Pretty moans slip out of your puffy lips as the pace of your hand goes swifter.

You fingering yourself as your boyfriend watches with a glass of wine in one hand? Geto couldn’t be any higher on a cloud than now.

“Mmmm, ahhhhh,” your eyes flicker to where your man sits and observes. “Suguruu…”

“Mmm? Yes, darling?” He takes a sip of his glass. “You look so good, you know that?”

The comment has you giggling with a light breath, swirling your middle finger around. Geto sees you tease your forefinger inside, loving the way your thighs quirk as you push it in. His eyes are honed at how quickly your come soaks whatever comes in contact.

“Must feel good, too.” He inquires with a raised brow, sneaking a hand down his pants to unfasten his belt and slither into the dark to meet a hard boner. “You’ve been at it for five minutes straight like I told you; good girl.”

“So good,” you purr because of the acclaim. “But, it’s not…enough.”

Geto takes another gulp of the red liquor. “And why’s that?”

It doesn’t surprise him when you swig your head around to look at him properly, eyebrows knitted together. “Please, Sugu…”

“Please, what?” He stands up after setting the glass down, bringing his pants down a bit to have his erection breathe before returning it to his fisted grasp. “Can’t know unless you tell me.”

You ask with quivered lips and a soliciting gaze—you know he knows what you’re talking about, just taking pleasure in the circumstances where you have to beg. “Please, I want you to stick it in.”

Lips curl to a smile, stroking his cock faster. “Stick what in, sweetheart?” He loves your back-and-forth game, seeing your posture slipping with every question.

You point to his dick with your toes. “I want you…in me.”

Ah, yes, your reward. As his sweet thing, Geto promises to care for you when you obey him. And he’ll admit you have done your part exceeding well as always: adorning the lingerie set as a treat, pleasuring yourself in front of him, and wetting your fingers and thighs of your fluid. It all makes him so turned on that you deserve to be pampered.

…However, something was still missing. And Geto knows you’re aware of it, too.

“I don’t know,” he plays coy as he mounts on top of the bed to crawl beside you. “You still haven’t done that thing I always like.”

You plead more with watery orbs. “Hmmm…I can’t do it alone; you do it better…” Your fingers leave your aching slit sensitive and damp. “Please, help me.”

“Oh? You want my help?” Geto takes your digits into his mouth to suck them clean, the sight putting your breathing to a halt. “Ask me properly, then I might give you a hand.” Right as he says that, you jolt at the brush of his middle and forefinger against your unattended clitoris.

“…! I-I,” you swallow spit. “I want you to help me—gasp!”

“That’s not how you ask properly, sweetheart.” He scares you a bit with a threatening pinch.

“…Please, sir,” now that’s more like it. “Please make me cum like you always do!”

A proud scoff leaves him. “Thought you’d never ask,” Geto leaves the bed quickly to retrieve something next to the wine glass. He then requests once he proceeds, “Spread your legs.”

You follow his words with haste, distancing your thighs apart for him to position between. Licking your lips as he rests one leg on his shoulder and turns on the item he brought along, whirring vibrations have you bite your bottom lip.

“Ready?” You eagerly nod, and he descends the wand to your vulva. Your frame jolts at the contact of your clit, meeting the shaking toy surface for a flick of a second. You choke on air and Geto chortles. “Ehhh, but you said you were ready?”

“B-But that was a bit intense…!” Tears begin to pool at the corner of your eyes; your nerves heighten to a peak.

“I know,” he brings the want back to your clit. This time, he doesn’t stop at your screams. “That’s the point. You said you wanted my help, right?”

You knew this would happen, him using the vibrating toy so roughly that you can’t voice out your opinions adequately. Fuuuck!! It was too intense how hard he pressed the wand on your sore bud, circling and grinding to the point that your words transformed into incoherent babbles. Geto bends down, the added weight not making it any better for you to squirm away from him and his antics.

And yet…it feels so fucking gooood!! The added pressure hits your spot efficiently with speed and energy, pleasing shocks coursing through your body through every zig-zag motion. You howl when he brings the toy to your labia; the vibrating surface feels way too good that you’re clamping onto a void nonstop. Drool escapes your lips, as do the tears plummeting down hot cheeks.

“Heh, so fucking cute,” Geto comments to you before claiming your tongue to suck on for you to whimper desperately. Spit exchanged with wild tongues, teeth clashing amongst the muffled mewls and moans between the satisfaction. You slurp on his wet muscle in gratitude, head pounding from all the ecstatic commotion occurring.

Geto then flicks the wand up and toy, hitting both your folds and clit simultaneously, and your eyes travel up to your skull, almost choking on his spit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—you can feel it. And when it hits you, it hits you hard.

As your orgasm comes crashing down, so does the liquid you squirt out from the stimulation of your glands. The secretion goes around with the help of the toy, continuously gliding across, spraying onto your thighs and abdomen. Geto gets caught in the crossfire, the watery substance plastering onto the wand, his hand, forearm, and cock. Not to mention the sheets of the bed underneath you two.

The onyx-haired man smirks between smooches; there it is. His mouth leaves yours, spit connecting the two pairs of lips from the messy make-out session. Purple eyes take a good long look at the entire thing; your fucked out expression stuck with the trembles of your body—and he couldn’t be even more turned on!

“There you go, pumpkin!”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ size difference (true form! kuna) - breast fondling - thigh-riding - anal fingering (f! receiving) - cowgirl position - double penetration; anal & vaginal insertion - asking permission - pet names (little plaything, good girl, pet) - mention of pain.

He smirks. “Enjoying yourself?”

You nod your head with quivers. “You feel so…good, my Lord…”

“Hmph. I can tell, making a mess on my thigh like a real fucktoy.”

Sukuna enjoys your company—a hard thing for many to grasp or comprehend in link with the King of Curses. But yes, he seems to like to have you around him, especially when you’re desperate for him.

You were indeed his most precious thing — a rarity as the cursed man doesn’t have the time nor drive to indulge in such trivial items. Yet you seem to have been the exception for such doctrine. It didn’t happen overnight or months, but a miracle did happen for him to find something – or someone – worthy of his attention when he’s in the mood.

And that’s where you come in, his little cherished plaything summoned to his quarters to save him from boredom.

Sukuna lay on his futon with you atop him, straddling his massive thigh between your legs without your underwear on. You move your hips to and fro, gliding your cunt across his skin and covering him with your come. His lower legs kept to your legs so you don’t run away.

Your lips shudder as you sway. “Hahhh, Lord Sukuna…I–I can’t—“

“Hmm? Speak up.” His lips curl to a deeper, devious sneer. “Can’t what?”

“Nnhhaa…I can’t keep going; I’m too—” You exhale through your mouth as your spine jitters from the slight raise of his thigh. “T’ tender…”

“Oh? Is that supposed to swade me or something?” He raises his sole salmon brow in amusement, and your grip on your legs is tighter. “You stop moving when I say so.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord, but—Taahh…!” His upper left arm grabs for your wrists to keep them on his chest, the tongue from his abdomen lick your elbow. “I’ve been doing this for a while…any more, and I could break.”

His expression remains impassive. “What else am I having you do this for?”

“Mmmm, my Lord, please,” your eyes flutter to his comely face, all four crimson eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t wish to cum on just your thigh. I wish to c—oh God…To cum on your cocks.”

Sukuna scoffs; your meek honesty is a tiny bit reputable. “I don’t recall saying you have a say in where and when you can cum. You seem to enjoy my thigh for this long; you can keep it up.” You weren’t prepared for a hand to sneak up to caress your bum. “I don’t think you’re grateful.”

“B-But, I’ve been so good to you all this time!” Do you dare keep questioning him? You earned yourself a finger pushed inside your ass. You better plead your case incredibly. “I’ve come for you this long with no complaints, and I am honored that you gain pleasure from mine…Yet, I want you to feel the inside,” your ears burn from your confession, yet the truth is all you can say. “Rather than the outside.”

Now, he can’t lie; the way you phrased that did spark his interest way more than it intended. But he hasn’t said anything yet, so you continue begging.

“Please, my Lord,” your hips go faster for your sore folds to indulge in the friction, and the finger in your asshole has you sway even more. “Please,please,pleaseee!! I want you…Want nothing but you…!”

Hmph, so pathetic. Your hopeless pleas have the behemoth’s grin grow broader, the thick digit in your butt pushing in and out to the point of you humming. “What a wailing pet I have to deal with...However, you have been good.”His strong hands grab for you to pull you up closer, your stomach brushing one of the cocks standing erect. “Go on, don’t have me do the job myself.”

A curt nod is given to your master as you raise your lower half and crawl further for it to align where his groin is. Your hand grabs for the dick upfront while Sukuna grasps the one below it, and you slowly drop your lower region until his glans kiss your vulva. Inhales and exhales ease your nerves while you push down on the tip, gasping aloud once your chasm swallows it in as the initial pain diminishes slowly with time.

“Good,” A pleased purr rumbles his chest. “Now for the other,” he brings the other tip to your anus, your job maintaining a calm breathing technique as he pushes himself into you. The sting of something foreign entering lasts for a couple of seconds until the second cockhead makes its way inside your rear.

Your mouth is agape as you allow yourself a few moments for your body to accommodate their girthy lengths before Sukuna playfully smacks your ass to attend to him. And so you do, your ass falling sluggishly as your holes occupy with your master’s shafts, venturing deep inside your channels and rubbing on your walls effortlessly have you whimper.

“Little plaything,” he calls you once your butt lays down on him, rubbing his cheek on yours before licking your ear. He whispers, “What do you say to me after letting you have your way?” His gruff voice, so close to your eardrum, lowered to a hush, has your stomach doing knots.

You reply with a trembly sigh. “Thank you…my King,” You look into his eyes as you express gratitude, and his face comes near to claim your lips.

“Good girl.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ sloppy kisses/making out - Daddy pink - missionary + mating press positions - clitoral play (tweaking and swiping) - breeding kink - creampies - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, hun, mama) - mention of drool/spit.

“Ahhh, haaaahh, D-Daddy—Mmmph!!”

“I know, baby, I know…Fuck, so nice and tight.”

Toji loves the way you take in his cock. His sweet, little things grit their teeth as he stuffs his entire length into your insides, your gummy walls clenching around the girth, stretching you out to the point of toes curling.

Your back pressed down to the sheets of your shared bed, your legs wrapped around Toji’s waist as he plows into your wet cunt, excess come exiting from the union of your sexes stains not only the sheets but the base of his cock. The room is a bit dark yet warm, with only light from the television basking on your naked bodies. Sounds of plap, plap, fill the silence during your intimacy.

His scarred lips latch onto yours, steamy kisses dwelling into a plane of passion by the second with every mewl he takes from your breath. Stuffing his tongue into your mouth overwhelms your senses, orally stimulating your drive to euphoria. And to his pleasure, you suck on his wet muscle, rewarding you with more spasmodic ruts to your vagina.

Toji relishes the feeling of him wanting him, your body reacting to his every touch and soft caress while his lower half puts you through the most nerve-wracking pleasure. He then cruises a hand down to where your clitoris is, tweezing it with his forefinger and thumb. And the scream he drinks is just delectable.

“—Mmaahh! Ohhhhfuuuck,” spit from the kiss trails from your puffy lips to your chin. “T’ muuuch, Daddyyy!! I’m t’ fuuull…!!”

“Yeah? ’S too much?” He repeats with a chuckle, licking your cheek. “But y’re doin’ so well, hun, takin’ my dick like a good girl.” More swipes on your clit have your arms wrapping around his neck to his amusement. “Hnnnng…Wringin’ me out like crazy…”

You wail to his ear as he presses his forefinger on your vulnerable bud. “Ohhhh, feel shoo goood…Gonna cum.”

Words that have Toji’s emerald eyes darken licentiously. “What’s that, mama?” He rubs his hot cheek to yours; he heard what you said perfectly—but it’s satisfying to listen to your shy self repeat yourself.

“D-Daddyyy, pleaseee—Mmmfff!” An abrupt thrust makes you shrill. “Please make me cummm…!”

“Nnnmm! Shiiit, don’t do that,” he hisses at the clasp of your walls on his girth. “Gonna make me knock ya up…”

You whine. Your hand brushes through his nape onto his raven hair. “Give it to me; I want you to fill me up!”

He scoffs. “Yeah? Want Daddy to bust my load inside again,” he grinds his pelvis down to rub on your G-spot. “Gonna be good, and let me fill ya up til’ y’re all fat with a baby?”

“Yessss, Daddy, please, pleaseee” You kiss and suck the skin of his neck, and he whirs. “Make me all fhat with cum, please! I wanna cum—Mmmm!— and have yer baby!!”

“Heh, fuck, y’re driving me crazy…Stay still, baby,” he coos before arranging upright to unscrew your legs, bringing them to your chest before he cages you back with his added weight and pounds into your swollen cunt relentlessly. You howl and scream at the increased cadence, more come spilling down the crevice of your ass with every push of his cock, and his balls smacking your taint frequently.

“Ohhhh!! NnnooohmyGod!!” You throw your head back to the pillow, unable to do anything else but take him, forcing you into submission. The angle aids deeper penetration, having your head pound harder and your eyes stuck to the ceiling. “Yesssss…Harder, Daddy, please go hardeeer!!”

“Haaahh, I’m tryin’, mama,” he grits his teeth, pistoning his cock frantically to have you speaking in tongues. The sounds of skin slapping get louder and louder, furthering the heat exchanged and the erotic atmosphere.

“Ohhhfuckin’shiiiiit…!! I’m gonna cum,” scrapes to your cervix push you to the edge, threatening to shut down entirely as this keeps going on. “I’m cumming, I’m…Ohoooo!”

Black bangs stick to his sweaty forehead, “Me too, hun…! ‘Bout to bust my—Lllmmm!!” Jesus, your tight walls have him in a chokehold, his abs tensing as the inevitable takes place.

Your walls flutter on his cock as your climax comes first to lock you down, shrieking as the tremors rock you to your core. Toji falls second, releasing his semen into you once again and filling you up with his white seed with a groan. He pulls you in for another kiss, saliva traversing through tongues, dancing with each other with shared moans until both bodies relax after their respective highs.

The cool air brings you two back to reality, Toji dismissing his lips away from you to lick the saliva while withdrawing his length from your inner texture and watching the pool of essence exert your hole and slide down to the messy sheets. The sight makes the older man snicker, licking his scar in contentment as you murmur breathless ‘thank you’s for the reward.

“Y’re welcome, mama.”

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