#i want to crawl in his coat and make a home there
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captain-hawks · 15 hours ago
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Happy holidays, Dee!!! 🎄
So glad all your travels went well! If I may, for the holiday sprint 🎁: Sakura + kissing in the snow?
Thank you!! 🩵
bambi 🎀 sakura haruka x reader
In which Sakura struggles to juggle his feelings alongside your unsteady feet in the snow.
1k — fluff, flirting, first kiss, aged up sakura
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“Do you not own boots?” 
Sakura’s voice is gruff when he automatically reaches out to grasp your forearm the moment you start to lose your balance. Again.
As he’s been doing repeatedly for the past fifteen minutes every time the flat soles of your shoes have rebelled against the snowy surface of the sidewalk on your trek home.
It’s endearing, really. Despite the annoyed front he’s been putting on. 
He’s quick to let go—no surprises there—stuffing his hands back into his pockets with a scowl on his face and a dusting of pink traversing his cheeks. You tuck your face sideways into the hood of your jacket to hide your smile. 
He turns his attention back to Suo and Nirei, both of whom have a whole block on the two of you at this point thanks to your far slower pace.
And yet here Sakura is with you—
“You’re not wearing any either,” you counter, glancing down at his sneakers.
Sakura looks from you to his own feet, his pretty eyes blinking several times before he deadpans, “Because I don’t turn into Bambi the second the ground gets a little wet.”
You shrug, “If I’m Bambi, then you’re Flower.”
He pauses, blanching. “Isn’t Flower the skunk?”
Looping your right arm in his left, you tug Sakura forward to continue walking—and if he minds, he doesn’t protest. 
“Yeah, he’s cute, and shy. And he blushes whenever someone shows him affection.”
A strangled noise crawls up his throat. “I don’t—”
“Also the hair. Obviously.”
You shoot him a grin, and Sakura’s jaw works as a furious flush spreads down his neck. His lips part, readying a retort, but it’s at that moment that your lack of attention to the ground below sends your feet flying out from underneath you. 
And because you’re holding on to him, Sakura loses his balance and slips, too.
You feel your body jolt to the right as Sakura does the only thing he can do, which is pulling you toward a far softer landing in a snowdrift. 
The snow crunches beneath your bodies as you fall—or, well, Sakura’s body.
You land directly on top of him.
Sakura groans, squirming at the feeling of your hot breath tickling his neck as you laugh into the crook of his shoulder. 
“Are you alright?” he grunts, hands gently patting your back and shoulders like he doesn’t know what else to do with them but still feels compelled to do something.
“You’re more comfortable than you look,” you tease, lifting your head so that you’re looking down at him.
His eyes go slightly wide as the misty cloud from your breath meets his, tangling in the cold winter air.
“Please get boots,” he sighs, closing his eyes and dragging a hand through his hair.
Reaching out, you idly toy with a lock of his black and white strands, and he swallows. 
“You’re probably going to have to come shopping with me so I don’t slip again,” you mirror his sigh.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inhales and exhales slowly before responding. “At this rate, I’ll die on the way there.”
You offer him a little shrug in turn. “I mean, I guess I could ask Suo or Nirei to come…or maybe Umemiya would want to go.”
Lips curling upward in a coy smile, you watch Sakura try and fail to hide the reaction that begs its way across his still-red face. 
“No, I’ll take you.”
The conviction in his voice does something funny to your insides, and you’d worry about him feeling the way it sets your heart thudding in your chest, if not for all of the layers of clothes between you.
Right, you’re still on top of him.
“Sorry, I should—”
“Wait, let me—”
The snow drift’s instability makes itself known as the two of you both try to get up at the same time, and you find yourself buried under a cold coating of said snow with Sakura on top of you this time.
He gasps around a mouthful of snow. “Shit.”
Giggling, you reach up to brush away the rogue snowflakes that cling to his hair, and he catches your hand, eyes narrowing. 
“Okay, also, you need to get gloves, too, honestly—” 
He’s cut off by the sudden press of your mouth against his.
You’ve been dancing around something with Sakura for weeks. Months. 
Something that leaves your heart dancing an unsteady beat every time you catch him staring when he thinks you’re not paying attention.
Something that leaves your fingers itching to grab his every time he goes out of his way to walk you home.
Something that nearly has you fisting your hand in the collar of his shirt to kiss him with each and every little peek of poorly-masked jealousy that you drag out of him. 
Sakura makes a noise, and you murmur the only thing you can think of against his lips, “My face is cold.”
His mouth rests against yours, not quite kissing you back, but also not pulling away. “Do we need to get you a mask, too?”
You thread your fingers with his, and he curls his own against your knuckles. Honey-thick warmth seeps through your ribcage.
“I think this works, too.”
You tilt your chin upward slightly, his top lip catching between your own. Slowly, you let your tongue slide along it, and Sakura inhales sharply.
“Haruka,” you murmur, so quietly that it’s hardly more than another huff of condensation in the air. 
But he hears it.
He hears it, because suddenly he’s kissing you back.
Sakura’s other hand cups your jaw as his lips slot against yours. In turn, you go pliant beneath his touch, your own fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. He makes another sound, but this one sounds far more pleased than bewildered as you swallow it.
More snow continues to fall, and the wind howls as it dances through the streets. His face is cold, and your toes are going numb. But his mouth is warm and soft—
—and his tongue is hot and slick and eager when he parts the seam of your lips and deepens the kiss—
A car honks loudly from somewhere nearby, and Sakura pulls away suddenly, breathing hard as he stares down at you.
You shiver.
“...we’re finding you a better jacket, too,” he grouses, reaching down and zipping yours the rest of the way up to your chin. 
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kishibeswh0re · 2 years ago
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Yeah lemme just-
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screampied · 2 months ago
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#THE GRUDGE! g. satoru
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☆ sum. perhaps screwing your ex-husband while the kids are out trick-or-treating wasn’t the best idea. but with him, the only treat he wants to trick is not in a basket—it’s right between your legs.. boo!
wc. 6.6k
warnings. fem! reader, ex-husband gojo, mentions of (2) kids, unprotected, pwp, mild hatefùcking, kakashi references eheh, gojo's still whipped, filthy dirty talk, prone bone, praise, implied bréeding, cunnīlingus / face sītting, bóob fondling, possessive themes, size kink, overstim, brat taming, fıngering, squırting, petnames.
➤ kinktober mlist
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at the gojo’s, you mentally smack yourself as your feet step onto the scream-themed door mat that reads ‘step if you dare.’ part of you wished no one would answer the doorbell, but part of you solely wished he didn’t answer. it was about seven thirty at night, and with it being saturday, you had the kids for a few days. after that, you’d switch with satoru—your jeering hot-headed ex-husband. you decided since you got off early you’d take them trick-or-treating for a bit. but it’s to your utmost ‘surprise’ that satoru opens the door.
“oh! and who are you supposed to be pretty lady?” he’d hum, digging his hands into his pockets. satoru purposely tilts his head down, getting a good look at you while raising a brow. of course, he always went out for his costumes. this year, he’s wearing some sort of green flak jacket, a mask, and a long-sleeved shirt underneath with dark blue pants.
with a grump, you tuck your arms underneath your pits with your purse clinging onto your shoulder. “myself,” and your eyes flicker toward his messy frosted hair that’s spikier than usual. satoru’s wide headband partially droops below his left eye before you finish mumbling, “who are you even supposed to be.”
“uh, kakashi hatake. the man, the myth, the legend,” and satoru leans back against the front door, pulling out a fake kunai. a hand runs through his hair before he snickers at your unamused expression. tough crowd. “aw, you must be here for the kids, yeah? well, they’re out with nanami ‘n suguru trick-or-treatin’. just some blocks down,” and satoru stepped a few feet back once you trod your way inside, mutely cursing yourself that you’d probably have to wait until they got back. as long as they were with nanami and suguru—you didn’t have a problem. satoru shuts the timber wooden-made door behind him before speaking smugly. “oh. sure.. sure, just make yourself right at home, wifey.”
“don’t call me that.”
“just did.”
oh, brother.
the moment you stepped foot into your old spacey luxurious townhome satoru had built personally for you and your kids—the memories all came crawling back. the two of you didn’t end off on a bad note—divorces happen, and you both maintained a healthy relationship with the kids. you each agreed to co-parent, you’d get the week and he’d get the weekend - sometimes switching and vice versa.
“excuse the mess,” satoru hums, grabbing your coat. he tosses it over his shoulder before giving you another up-down glance. “if i knew you were comin’ over around this hour i’d clean a bit,” and he watches you struggle to keep eye contact. “hey. sweetheart, you’re lookin’ down again.”
with a scoff, you meet his gaze again. and fuck, does he look like he’s gotten even more handsome.
satoru gojo was always attractive—there was no doubt about it.
he was in his mid-thirties now, the two of you had settled down after college before having two kids of your own.
again, there wasn’t a reason for your divorce that was relatively a bad thing. you two just both decided to part ways - but of course, it was lots of unprovoked tension.
the costume that he wore was apparently based on some character named ‘kakashi’ whatever, and like always, he dressed the part. every year once the end of october would come around, satoru would wear an outfit just ‘cause. he stood tall, with serrated white hair that was jagged from all angles with the headband hanging off a side of his eye. in the middle part, the symbol was some kind of swirl that was never-ending.
satoru rambled to you that it was something . . something, a hidden leaf—honestly, you tuned out.
he wore the mask part too, covering up a good portion of his face from the nose down, and even had the red slanting scar that kakashi had near the left side of his eye that was probably makeup.
“i don’t wanna fight, gojo.”
“hmph. so it’s ‘gojo’ now,” he rolls his eyes, hanging your coat up near the rack. you take a quick peer around the room, seeing a plethora of toys and multicolored legos everywhere. it nearly makes you smile, remembering when satoru stepped on one of his youngest daughter’s legos. satoru leans against the glassy kitchen island, watching you take a seat near the crimson-red stool before humming. “and i don’t wanna fight either. in fact, i jus’ wanna talk.”
“so . . talk then,” you murmur, shifting your weight in your feet.
a brief smile creases against both sides of his lips before he grins. “soooo,” and it’s an awkward pause. you eye your ex-husband and he’s got somewhat of a bashful expression. rimy eyes of his dart toward your hand—your fingers specifically before he slyly coos. “i see you’re still wearin’ your wedding ring.”
shit.
he had a point.
after all this time, you still had your ring on. satoru did too—he also kept his ring on all the time, happily flashing it in front of countless numbers of women who’d try to hit on him.
you honestly don’t know why you still held on to it, let alone wear it, and to your surprise—you thought he’d stop wearing his those long seven months ago when the two of you officially split.
you bit the inside of your cheek before letting off a snarky, “shut up.”
satoru nearly snickers before he leans up close to you, only a few inches away. he’s so close that you get a loud wafting whiff of his citrusy cologne.
you remember the exact brand too, and it wasn’t exactly cheap either. he’d buy at least a dozen whenever the two of you went out shopping together - well, used to.
there’s so much tension between you both that you could cut it with a knife - the tension was thick, and the awkward dull pauses only made it even more intense.
there’s an annoying voice in your brain that’s screaming at you to just screw it - screw him, make up for lost time, and just . . . kiss him.
you did want to kiss satoru, and your eyes found themselves glancing toward his pearly pink lips that were almost always naturally glossed.
satoru’s eyes intently lock against yours for a few seconds before he casually brings a thumb up to the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of your lip gloss before cooing huskily. he expects you to pull away, but you don’t— in fact, you lean into his touch. once he notices, the only thing he replies with is a playful curt utter of,
“make me.”
so you do, but . . not in the way he expected.
not that satoru gojo was ever a man to complain though, especially with you.
and that’s when he found himself in quite a lewd predicament. satoru’s laid back against his cushiony padded mattress with you straddling his perfectly sculptured chin. a gloved hand of his grip near your right hip before he strums a thumb down your sopping wet entrance.
glossy - it’s prettier like he’s never seen it, and he can’t help but lick his lips like an animal preparing to feast the second you start to smear yourself against his chin.
“y’knowww baby, when you told me to shut up i didn’t think you meant sitting on my f—mmph,” and you cut him off mid-sentence by softly planting your cunt back on his mouth.
satoru grunts, bringing his free hand to wrap around the other unoccupied corner of your waist. he grunts, dipping his tongue inside before the familiar taste comes crawling back to his spiraling tastebuds. your taste, he missed your sweetness . . almost as much as he missed you.
as you sweetly moan within each dragging second, you glance down at him with hazed-blown pupils. shifting your wobbly weight and knees against his face, you start to feel his stubble rub on your skin. it almost tickles - but oh, you weren’t laughing.
his tongue had you doing quite the opposite.
“f- fuck,” you huff out, already starting to feel the plunging heaves of your stomach commence. sure, this was probably a bad idea, and sure, you and him probably needed to have an actual conversation at some point but now - you didn’t care about words.
you didn’t care about anything, and part of you kind of missed him.
perhaps his tongue was a majority reason for that part, and each time he rummages inside the deep secluded parts of your pussy, you let off cute individual mewling whimpers. satoru’s always been skilled, and he knew just how to please you.
his tongue always knew how to remind you of how much it’s missed its favorite meal.
curl after fucking curl, he’s leisurely spelling out letters and shapes and symbols with his tongue, taking every few seconds to swallow. satoru groans against your slobbering cunt, feeling you briefly thrust up against his nose and he can’t help but smell your tangy glacé coated sex.
it’s pleasantly sweet, and for a moment, scintillating blue eyes meet back up toward you. “h- heh, ‘s this why you came over? to shut me up ‘n use my fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart?”
“god, you talk t.. too much,” you moan, grabbing a fistful of his hair. in a way - that was true.
satoru was the definition of a blabbermouth.
he’d just talk and talk and talk . . yapping your ear off until you shut him right up in the best (and his personal favorite) way possible - sitting on his pretty face.
a pompous grin stretches across each corner of his lips whilst his jaw’s already dripping due to your slick that paints near the outer crevices of his thin lips. slow, it starts to slowly trickle down his chin at a snail-like pace, creating a shimmery coat of gloss that dribbles underneath his slack mandible.
satoru lays his long pointed tongue flat - savoring every single drop before he’s starting to suck against your clit.
“oh! fuck, right there ‘toru, riiiight there,” and he’s just sloppy. the mask part of his costume was pulled down to his neck as he was using his upper and bottom lip to munch against your sobbing pussy at irregularly paced intervals. your legs failed to stay still and you could already feel the carnal slope of your back starting to form an obtuse-like arch. “fuck, fuckin’ spit on it, ‘toru. pleasepleaseee.”
cute.
you’re calling him ‘toru again, and it makes him cockily grin knowing it was his tongue’s doing.
“wifey’s still as nasty as ever,” satoru whispers against your leaky folds, sliding a thin middle finger near your wet entrance. with a loud ‘psh’ you end up gushing out a bit abruptly and you whine loudly. your thighs rapidly snap together as you blink thrice, feeling his swollen lips glue against your pussy. “mmh, still a wet girl too. my wet girl.” you peek down at satoru who’s the literal epitome of the word smug.
he’s smearing his entire face against your teary slabbering cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right back up again.
you missed his nasty mouth - badly, and it makes your eyes shamelessly roll backward as you start to frailly rut your rickety hips into his mouth.
satoru brings two willowy fingers toward your slit before sliding the icy jewel rock of his wedding ring against your dribbling cunt.
wet, you were soaked and you let off shivering labored breaths once he started to toy with your saturated slick entrance.
with widened doe eyes, you meet his esurient-filled gaze and he hums at you. “listen to how damn wet she is,” he huffs, and you moan at the ridiculously drenching sounds of your pussy. he’s playing with you from between your thighs, chin still dripping with insane amounts of your syrupy juices. “mhm, i know, i know,” and you feel the feeble weight of your thighs quiver the second he’s focusing his attention primarily on your cunt now and not you.
all six eyes were fixated between your legs—
satoru strums the pad of his thumb down your drooling slit before gradually rolling his tongue from top-to-fucking-bottom.
he’s nasty, slithering the tip of his tongue everywhere until your toes curl and you’re letting off the cutest shrilling sounds. satoru even starts to spell out ‘m-a-r-r-y m-e’ and as lewd as it was, he’s proposing to your pussy. he needed you, and satoru knew the both of you divorcing was nearly inevitable, but he missed you.
he especially missed the way you tasted - so sweet, he could eat you out for hours even with his jaw sore ‘n locked. satoru’s a pussy pleaser, making you draw out sweet cries of more as he slurps you clean, his tongue occasionally sliding toward your puckering hole.
“satoru… ngh,” you whimper, the grip of your hand against his hair getting stronger. you’re fucking his face, grinding your slick against his mouth while watching his pretty frosty lashes flap. you’re squelching profusely, and each sloshing slosh of your pussy makes his dick twitch in his pants. “goddd, ‘m gonna cum. make me cum, fuck.”
“let’s see what she thinks,” he purrs, lustrous polished lips flushing into a pearly coat of clear once he licks them. satoru’s entirely pussy drunk, and you shudder once he slowly inserts a lanky middle finger. with a loud ‘pop!’ sound, it dexterously slides itself in, rummaging past the tight ring of your entrance.
fuck, he had such long fingers.
you almost forgot - satoru always joked with you how being ‘the strongest’ came with having six-inch fingers and he wasn’t fucking kidding . .
“hm, should my baby cum? does she deserve it?” and your lips curl up into a pout. he’s serious, having an entire conversation with your pussy. you moaned, maintaining a stiff grip on his hair before satoru started to smear circles against your cunt.
again, you’re just wet. your slickness amused him and satoru can’t help but playfully pat your pretty soddened pussy with the center of his palm once he doesn’t get a reply. the only reply he does get is the cute sloshing sounds that repeatedly gush between your poor quivery thighs.
you’re slowing yourself against his mouth as you straddle him, whimpering at the feeling of his thin digit piercing its way inside of you. you’re close, and you can feel yourself glitching and spasming the second the tip of his finger grazes past your g-spot.
already, he’s located it like ‘x’ marks the spot. your jaw was dropped, and you were on the verge of euphoric death.
satoru stretched your cunt out perfectly with just one finger, and sure . . you’ve had your fair share of intimacy with your ex-husband, but fuck did it always feel like the first time.
you couldn’t help but start to drool a bit, weakly rutting your hips against his face as you’re leisurely getting closer to the brink of your edge.
it’s carnal, you’re stupidly crisscrossed with your eyes flickering back and forth like turning signals before satoru starts to playfully nibble against your cunt again. this time though, he’s adding in another finger and the spongy pressure that’s being played with inside of you earns out a sweet honeyed gasp that sounds like a breathy shriek!
“toru, sato—fuck, ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum,” and your words repeated themselves over and over. you’re like a broken recurrent record on a looping vinyl. your cunt continues to sloppily rest against his perfect crooked lips the entire time as you’re blissfully coming undone.
satoru’s staring at you the entire time, practically undressing you with his eyes. he grunts, spotting how your perked nipples noticeably prodded through your silvery blouse. “ugh, fuuuck.” and it hits you like a crashing wave that slams its way into shore.
satoru’s still heartily pumping two slender digits in and out of your splashing cunt whilst you gush right on him, weak defeated hips losing their stability.
you were whimpering, tasting your candied orgasm on your tongue—it felt that good to where it’s like you could taste every nerve against your salivated tastebuds.
only satoru could make you cum on his tongue like this. you were speechless - frantically panting as you released your hand from his ghostly white strands. he’s still leaking your juices from the crannies of his lips before he exhales deeply.
“yeaaah, atta girl. lay it on me,” and you moan as he’s still sliding his long tongue in between the sopping folds of your sensitive cunt, gradually pulling out his lengthy digit pillars of fingers. “fuck, y’r so hot when you try ‘ta put me in my place, sweetheart.”
“stop talking,” you pant, getting off of him. satoru raises a pallid brow, and he grows amused once you suddenly push him to lie flat against his back. with a raspy ‘ugh’ he lands back against the velvet-colored pillows, a sly smirk marinating against his complacent features.
like a slut - he merrily manspreads just for you, long legs spread wide apart with a huge bulge sticking out of his pants.
he’s still got the shinobi headband on, part of it slumping down his left eye. “oh, what’s this?” he lowly gruffs, eyeing you from head to toe again.
this time though, it’s more sensual. satoru’s taking in every piece of fabric that’s protecting your skin, watching as you slowly undress yourself.
he could feel his boner excruciatingly rubbing against his pants the more he watched. he’s taking in your appetizing presented curves . . so pretty. especially after having two kids - his kids.
“gonna ride me, yeah?” he jibes, continuing once you were now left in nothing but a matching set of panties and bra.
coincidentally - the colors matched his exact eye color, and satoru always had a thing for you wearing clothes that matched his eyes. but like always, he just kept on talking. he was too cocky for his good, and maybe one more fuck was just what you needed. what you both needed.
just . . one . . more,
right?
well, that’s what you told yourself.
but all that went out the window the second you’re aligning yourself on his cock. satoru takes a sharp three-second breath, ogling at your every move. it’s like a game of chess. he’s waiting for you - for your cunt to make its move against his throbbing mushroomy tip.
two big hands of his wrap around your waist and he grunts lowly. feeling your slick cunt maneuver itself against his angry reddened tip makes his head slightly toss back in feral rapture.
his tip—it’s got a coral blush, and you let off a moan at feeling his hooked fat plump crownhead try to plummet its way in.
it’s rude, not caring to introduce itself to your cunt but slam its way in instead, asking if your insides remember him.
and it does - it definitely does.
“ohhh fuck,” you sob out a needy moan, your hips eagerly making two solid taut bucks against him.
satoru groans against your ear, swollen sack peeling back as you’re still straddling him. your body, it was in his arms again and he couldn’t help but feel you everywhere.
starting at your hips, he holds them tight, tracing the callused scarred tips of fingers all around the curvature of your body before trailing down toward the juncture of your rear. “god, don’t know how much i missed you ‘n your smart mouth,” and as you let off a surprised gasp, satoru grabs a nice chunk of your ass. “missed this ass just as much.”
“bet you did,” you puff, full lungs already on the verge of collapsing. he’s huge - and barely the tip was in and you could already feel your pussy starting to throw a fit of tantrums. satoru’s girth made him stretch more, and for a second you let off another sweet moan before meeting his gaze.
he’s got a delicious curve to him that always makes your insides twist and churn. it’s a feeling you’ll probably never get used to.
“what’s with the smirk? somethin’ funny?”
“you, baby,” satoru titters, giving you a haughty head nod. you feel your cunt throb as you’re trying to continue to lower yourself down on his cock but the stretch - fuck, pretty soon your poor cunt was about to be met with max fucking capacity.
satoru’s sparkly heavy-lidded eyes linger on you before he cups your chin, swiping a thumb across your wet quavering lips. “all that talk ‘n you still can’t take me. thought i trained my wife’s pussy good,” and with a teasing pout, he shrugs. “guessss not!”
“fuck you.” you moan, mentally groaning the second you felt yourself getting more soaked, just from his words alone.
pathetic - and yet, you wanted more.
satoru clicks his tongue, and with a blink of an eye, he now has you flipped over. you gasp, landing flat on your chest as he’s got your wrists restrained against your back.
satoru rolls his eyes, sprawling out your weak-kneed legs all the way apart to get a good glimpse of your sopping pussy from the back.
god, in his mind - it should have been a crime to be this wet. your sopping, pearly translucent molasses of your slick stream down your pulsing entrance and he grunts.
“fuck you,” he repeats, although he says it cheekily. even though you weren’t even facing him anymore you could almost visibly see the annoying shit-eating grin plastering on his face.
from ear to ear with each of his dimples piercing each wry crevice of his mouth, he's so smug--bastard.
your back arches and you moan the second he starts to smack his rotund tip against your pussy. “myyy, what a fuckin’ mess,” and you suck your teeth, feeling satoru’s loud spanks hit louder. each time his fat cockhead thumps itself against your wet outer folds, the vibrations make you shiver from the waist down.
the tingly tenderness makes your toes immediately curl up once more and your canorous-like moans start to become muffled once you dig your teeth into the edge of a nearby pillow. “still wet after alllll this time like a good messy girl,” he grits. with another smack of his tip, your leg twitches in response. “ooh, she likes that,” and satoru softly spreads your saturated cunt lips apart with two fingers just to see your pulse throb in full filthy action. “fuuck, she’s achin’ for it. look at that pretty ‘lil throb. so cute.”
“are you gonna fuck me or n—”
“listen, honey,” and you moan at the sudden husky drop of his voice. satoru softly wraps a few fingers around your throat, pressing his slim body right against your own. he drops your wrist, watching you sink into the mattress as limp-like. he’s so close that you could feel the outline of his abs prods against his shirt.
inching his lips near the shell of your earlobe, he starts to pant. heavy, sinister breath that ends up making you throb ten times harder. “i’m gonna fuck you,” he grunts, feeling your ass cutely try to jerk its way against him. the costume part of his pants was lazily pulled down, reaching the low area of his ankles. with a husky sigh, satoru brings his tip near the dripping entrance of your sloppy doused cunt. “might as well fuck that bratitude out of ya too while ‘m at it,” and you moan once he’s slowly starting to sink his way in.
satoru grabs ahold of your torso, lifting you slightly to a certain degree. your ass was raised just a few meters with your face smushed against the satiny made bedsheets.
his eyes dart down your body for another time and now, he’s just openly gawking at your exposed skin - your gorgeous physique.
satoru could stare at you all day if he could. “f- fuh—fuck,” you croak, plump lips forming into a hoop-like ‘o’ the moment he’s easing his way inside. there goes his ridiculous girth again, there goes his fat length that never fails to rearrange your clingy needy insides.
your tummy dips from each inch that’s gradually disappearing inside of you like a never-before-seen magic trick until he’s starting to gruffly groan. satoru’s already breaking a frigidly cold sweat.
it was just him feeling your covetous wet cunt voluntarily swallow him up - squeezing him tightly like a vice until you wring him dry. your pussy’s holding him hostage, and with the tight firm grasp you had against him, you never wanted to let go. “ ‘toruuu, ‘s fuckin’ big.”
“allll for you,” he drags out his words through raspy breathy sentences. chalky white brows of his compress together as he’s starting to feel the brief twinge of pleasure that courses through his beefy clenched thighs. with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, satoru already heard your gargling pussy trying to get more bratty words in. “all. for. you,”
and he punctuated his words just like he punctuated his merciless, sloppy thrusts.
the first thrust was rigid, the second thrust was sensual, and the third was damn near powerful. .
you moan loudly, feeling him caress tender circles near the exposed nape of your neck with his thumb as he tries to start up a sufficient pace. it took him a moment before he was fully in, making sure you felt and remembered every single inch.
satoru expands through your cunt like a domain.. the more carnal lewd way though.
it makes you shiver, and with his weight pressing into your ass that was your last fucking straw.
satoru’s got you in prone bone - a position like doggy but better, and he’s got his chiseled hips just barely hovering over your ass. with pounds and pounds of skin against skin—each smack against flesh had your mind going for a whirl ride.
you were already surrounded by his sweltering warmth from the inside and the feeling alone was enough to make your mouth water.
heavy airy pants drew out from your full lungs like you were some sort of animal, then again—it’s satoru gojo, and his dick was just one of a fuckin’ kind..
his cock was heavy, driving through your cunt like it’s been ages, and it kinda has.
with a hypnotic pivot of his askew hips, satoru makes you arch just a bit further. it’s a pretty arch, and he skips a few fingers down your curling spine. he watches you trying to wriggle away but with a cocky, “ah ah. where ya goin'?” he reels you right back into him. he’s so thick, and he only imagined how pretty you looked with your eyes lulling toward the back of your skull. “aw, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs lowly, and you moan once he gives your ass a rude spank. “wanna hear my wife’s pretty voice. y’r sloppy pussy’s nice but i wanna—ngh, hear you.”
“ex-wife,” you correct him again, and you know he’s just addressing you as that just to tease you. you start to whimper as his rhythm starts to pick up, ploddingly dragging his keen hips further and further into you. “hnghh. stupid-,” you blurb out another weak squalling whimper, gluey lips starting to stick together.
you almost forgot how mean his dick game was, and satoru knew how to fuck.
he had the type of dick where it’d make you question your life choices—so good, each curve of his hips had you getting more and more stupid.
you’re pronounced cock drunk within milliseconds, and it doesn’t even take you long before your eyes were as wide as saucers, tongue lolled, and your back arches to its very limit.
and his stamina . . oh,
it never changed once he aged—he had the stamina of a fucking stallion, and his hips proved the horsepower to back it up.
“whaaat’s that?” satoru chirps, adding a bit more pressure around your throat. it’s safe - but you let off a tiny crooning moan once his strokes become deeper. you feel him reach at unimaginable angles, and your eyes start to roll back again.
satoru’s got you right where he wants, in his bed, the bed that used to be shared between you both.
he’s amping up his delirious pace, striking his feral hips into you quicker before groaning against your ear. in a hoarse tone, he licks a stripe down your neck. “such a brat, bet you don’t slut this pretty pussy out for anyone else, huh?”
you moan, feeling him breathe down your neck. cloudy hot puffs of air aerate against your skin before satoru starts to suck against your shoulder. “mmh. maybe i do. ‘s none of your business.”
“oh girl, please,” satoru replies, and his sass was enough to make your thighs quake.
you still couldn’t get used to his size - the fat fucking size of his cock that nearly makes both of your thighs clamp shut.
the shirt part of his costume snags against your skin as he’s still fucking you raw, buried balls fuckin’ deep before satoru starts to slow down.
with a wet ‘plop!’ he grunts, feeling his dick slip right out of you. “fuuck,” and he takes a moment to stare at the sight underneath him.
you, his pretty ex-wife all arched and hunched over.
your pussy’s pitifully drooling for more - sniveling wetly from the sheeny flaps as you clench around the air for a few seconds.
as a soft needy moan leaves you, you whine out an inaudible noise that sounds almost like you’re saying ‘what happened?’
“so . . fuckin’ hot,” satoru groans, re-aligning himself back against your slick-flooded entrance.
he heard your melodic ‘oooh’ leave from your lips as he was back inside, a content sigh departing from his chest. satoru can’t help but lean himself against you, bringing his hands toward your bouncy tits. “ah, can’t forget about my favorite girls,” and you let off a plethora of whiney whimpers, feeling him drag his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. satoru’s hips start to get sloppy and his cock’s just lazily swerving its way through every filthy orifice. “so pretty ‘n plump. . all mine.”
satoru continues to fondle your breasts as he’s ruthlessly pounding into you, swinish hands desperate to feel every part of your round soft tits. he’s moaning against your ear right with you, and satoru’s starting to feel himself steadily reach toward his vulgar demise.
his cock’s rude, repeatedly hitting itself against your precious beloved g-spot. it’s smothering it with a multitude of sloppy kisses with his tip, making sure it savors every wet smooch. “fuck, fuck me,” you moan, lying in a puddle of your drool that starts to dampen the pillow that rests underneath your chin.
“greedy ‘lil thing,” satoru huffs, and as he’s still playing with your tits, his pumps start to slow down. satoru’s massaging your walls so good that it’s like he’s putting a wicked spell on your pussy.
you could barely even sit up anymore, and he’s holding your hips firmly. “mmhhh, gettin’ me all soaked, baby. should make you lick me right up.”
“how about you stop talking-”
“how about i edge you ‘n let you finish this sloppy pussy yourself, huh?”
radio silence.
you moaned in response and satoru shook his head with another smarmy sneer squeezing across both corners of his pink lips.
“uh huh. ‘s what i thought,” and satoru groans the moment he feels himself starting to shrink up from the inside.
his testes were nothing but wrung out, plump, and swollen underneath you, pap papping against your ass - preparing to be milked full.
the lewd imagery alone makes him grunt, feeling a vein prod down his shaft. satoru’s abs flex through his shirt before he sighs, bringing a kiss near the back of your neck. “hah, tell me where sweetheart. where do you want it, tell me.”
“fuck,” you moan, losing count of each time his pointed tip thrashes itself against the gummy barrier of your cervix.
satoru lowly chortles, panting heavily before making you lie straight down against the bed. “heh, fuck? that’s not an answer, silly.”
“inside, fuckin’ finish inside, ‘toru,” you blurt out, hearing your voice start to strain.
you’ve been moaning your head off, and your chords were starting to sound like they’ve had just about enough.
“nuh uh, manners sweetheart. don’t act brand new,” he teases, tracing a palm over the curved shape of your perked ass. he was in so deep, you felt the pressure press down on your tummy and it gave birth to an entire school of butterflies. you slip out another moan once satoru’s slowing his impactful thrusts down, still filling you to the brim before bringing his hips to a sudden halt. he’s back up against your ear before he whispers hoarsely, “ ‘pretty pleaseee’, c’mon baby. talk to me nice.”
with a guttural whine desperately trying to rip out the back of your throat, you grumble out a bratty, “fuck you.”
“hah, you’re a trip, y’know that?” and you gasp, feeling satoru snake a hand in between your thighs.
as he drags it down to where it stops near your stuffed pussy, he starts to rub his open palm against you. you moan, arching ever further as your ass presses into him. “it’s ‘fuck me’ ‘n yet you’re bent over for me, wet for me, sloppy for fuckin’ me,” and you felt yourself starting to throb quicker the more he spoke.
within each filthy sentence, his words drip with more erotic bass in his voice—
it’s sexy, and satoru’s feeling you trying to weakly grind your ass back against him so he could finish. it’s cute, the way how you’re so impatient but such a brat.
the woman he always knew - his wife.
“sato—satoruuu,” you mewl out, another whimper flying past your spit-slick lips. the gradual sounds of skin slapping resound against the walls of the spacious bedroom before it echoes. you moan once his cock stills itself inside - waiting for you, and with a defeated moan, you huff, “fine, pretty please.”
“pretty please what, sweetheart?”
he’s annoying, and yet here you were shamefully pulsating for him, arched over for him, and babbling his name over and over again like it’s some repetitive sacred mantra.
with a pouty scoff, you grumble out a subtle, “pretty please . . cum inside, ‘toru. please.”
“atta girl, use those words,” he purrs, and you moan once he gently grabs both of your unsteady hips. satoru braces your body underneath him and he grunts once he focuses back on his release. “god, this tummy,” he rasps, and you whimper once you feel his bare hands creep underneath your warm flat body.
satoru’s body remains on top of you - pounding you ruthlessly, and that’s when he softly presses a hand against your stomach. right there, he feels a tiny bulge of himself and it makes him grunt.
you were squeezing around his cock tight, slathering the entirety of his fat cock with your slimy slick before he groans. “mhm, you’d look so pretty plump ‘n round again for me, baby,” and satoru’s starting to feel it. his body - it shakes, damn near erupting as his high’s approaching at a hasty speed. “prettiest fuckin’ mommy. fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much.”
white lashes of his snap shut as he whines into your shoulder, still pumping thick inches into you from behind—skin slapping meanly and resounding off the walls of the room before he groans out a growling, “fuck!” you’re moaning right with him, his heat radiating against your skin. satoru’s strokes were hypnotic, his hips jerk against your ass as you’re barely keeping up. your insides felt churned all the way out as he still had a hand lying on the center of your tummy, drooling at the thought of filling you up again.
when it arrives, it’s quick - it takes him only a few long drawn-out seconds before he finally lets go. white brows of his twist together as he’s slowly pumping you full of ribbons ‘n ribbons of cum.
pearly slimy globs shoot into you, and you moan out a content sigh of your own as the muscles in your shoulders relax. “fuuuck,” you breathe, hearing satoru’s groans overshadow your noises. he’s always been far louder than you, especially whenever he was finishing.
he sounded pretty, angelic almost. satoru’s eyes flicker down toward the mess that’s being made, hearing the sloppy sounds of your pussy gargle and all.
bubbles of ivory-colored seed coat the outer folds of your entrance and you feel his warmth.
gristly silky ropes dribble into you all at once, creating a milky white ring that starts to form around his base. he’s missed filling you up like this - so so bad.
satoru nearly slips out a whine as he’s dumping his all into you—casually filling you to the brim, and that’s when his hips start to get even sloppier.
he was a mess, and you’ve milked him dry. he watches as your pretty pussy’s all filled and glossed - oozing with such amounts of cum.
a bit of stringy strands started to stick and glue against your thighs like adhesive, and he couldn’t help but pull out. it’s a squishy lewd ‘pop’ that sounds the second he drags his weighty cock out from between your creamy flaps. “god, look at how pretty she is after a good fillin’,” he huffs, and you’re still catching your breath once satoru flips you over. you’re lying on your back, meeting his gaze.
you’ve never seen him more in love - oh, he was whipped.
he didn’t even have to tell you those known words because his eyes already spoke for him. satoru rubs his leaky white-coated tip against your cunt, smearing his cum all over your entrance before sighing. after he does that, satoru licks his lips and that’s when you watch his head starting to disappear, going lower.
“can’t . . let it go to waste,” he grumbles, and you moan the second you feel the tip of his tongue starting to create a slope up your right thigh.
slowly, he’s lapping up the remnants of his cum that’s spilling down your skin. you almost forgot just how filthy he was. satoru had no shame, and he even moaned once the taste of his mess met against his tastebuds. “mmh.”
“s- satoru,” you heave, a hand finding its way through his strands again. his lips were soft, and he then started to create sloppy kisses. you moan, writhing against the stained sheets before gingerly bringing his head back up.
with a sleazy grin, his eyebrows raised before you finish your sentence, tangled fingers still fishing through his snowy unkempt tresses. “kiss me.”
“heh, that’s my girl,” he hoarsely, gradually closing the distance between you both. he’s been longing to kiss you, to plant his lips against yours. satoru groans in your mouth, feeling your arms wrap around his slim waist.
he starts grinding his hips against yours, his angered reddened tip blushing the more cold air sets against it. you’ve never felt more hot, and you could feel a smirk carve against satoru’s lips as he’s making out with you.
it’s intense - his tongue explores throughout your mouth, demanding entry as you moan.
satoru’s sweating pinballs, and he presses his forehead against yours. “fuckin’ woman,” he whispers, his voice getting more and more raspy.
you could taste himself on his tongue and so could he.
it was lewd - and yet, he only wanted more. more of you and so much of it..
satoru leans into your touch, sucking on your tongue as pairs of teeth occasionally clash and smash together before that’s when you abruptly pull away.
“h..hey,” he huffs, and he’s entirely flustered. satoru’s got heart eyes in his pupils, and he’s very much whipped. of course, though, he tries not to show it by keeping up his smug, arrogant façade. “what’s— ah.”
like earlier, you switch positions and push him lightly to where he lands on his back. pretty soon, you were sure trick-or-treating was gonna be over soon for the kids—satoru mentioned earlier how they were staying out for about maybe two hours.
as you straddle his lap again, finally listening to that annoying voice in your head, you made up your mind.
fuck it.
fuck him - literally.
“lie back,” you murmur, and you watch as satoru grows sheepish. you’re getting under his skin, and your sudden change in demeanor makes him hard for what was probably the umpteenth time of the night.
like a dog – he’s obedient, going manspread again before a groan escapes out of him. as your drenched flooded cunt hovers over his tip again, you lean in to pepper chaste kisses near his neck.
“oh, finally gonna ride me now, yeah?” satoru raises a brow, though you could tell how his cockiness was fading. he was sensitive - very.
it was almost painful, and now you were just teasingly grinding the entrance of your cock back ‘n forth against his flaccid length that rests against his tummy. “shit,” he swallows, idly bringing a hand toward your waist. he sees the look in your eyes before dryly chuckling. “f- fine. but this means . . you’ll give me another chance?”
you deadpan, playfully flicking his chest back before humming. “we’ll see.”
“i’ll take it,” satoru pants, trying to flash a smile but he ends up moaning the second you’re starting to align himself against his throbbing tip.
he’s still leaking gleaming white droplets from the sides of his dick, his veiny shaft being decorated with globs and globs of pre. with a guttural groan, satoru’s abs flex through his costume before he grabs your ass, giving your left rear cheek its nth spank.
“do your worst fuckin’ then,” satoru stares up at you, a whine desperately trying to leave his slick-spit lips before he squeezes your ass. as you moan, watching his swollen tip gradually disappear between your sappy folds, gojo sighs.
as your unstable hips try to steady themselves against him, you feel satoru rub the front jeweled part of his wedding ring on your sopping cunt one more time right as you prepare to ride him.
“m- make your husband proud, wifey.”
14K notes · View notes
gutsby · 24 days ago
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Stiff
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Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader
Summary: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.
Or, your old man wants to knock you up. Viagra helps.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v (obviously 😵‍💫🤙🏼). Breeding kink. Age gap. Peepaw Joel. Blue Pill Joel. Post-apocalyptic-Viagra-dosage-gone-horribly-wrong-and-now-his-dick-won’t-deflate-for-a-day…but it’s OK!
Note: This is the crackfic counterpart/sequel to ‘Make It Stick’
Word count: 2.9k
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Forty-five minutes.
Forty-five minutes until his fate was sealed for the night. His pulse would quicken. His head would start to swim, and any last sliver of rational thought would be lost to the ether or the cold, snowy air around him. Joel Miller had to hurry now, because that bite-sized blue pill he’d just taken was in his belly, and if his dick didn’t find its way in you, he was fucked. Or at least huge and swollen and leaking out beads of hot desire the size of golf balls.
Well, maybe that was just his cock.
Joel looked down, scanning his pants.
Yeah…definitely just cock. He walked faster.
At home, he knew he’d find you curled up on the couch, nose in a book. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, if he had to guess. Then, sure enough, you’d lift your eyes and smile—‘Thank goodness you’re back, daddy’—and lift the hem of your night dress just slightly. Spread your legs and beckon him in. It was a nightly routine by now.
You wanted to be knocked up as fast as possible, after all
At almost sixty years old, Joel couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words aloud. But here he was—crawling overtop you on the couch, situating himself between your legs, and pulling his cock out, mumbling:
“Gonna let me put a baby in you tonight?”
You nodded sweetly—eagerly—every time.
Joel knew he could never resist that look. He was as good as finished the first second you let him sink inside your tight, weeping hole, and when he stretched it, he could already tell this was all he would ever want to do. Make you happy, fill you up, give you lots and lots of him.
It was why he’d stopped by the apothecary tonight. Why he’d hesitated only a moment before clearing his throat and asking for a pill like Viagra—Joel knew that the man behind the counter would flash him a wry, knowing grin.
Trouble keepin’ up with that sweet young thing’a yours?
David was a dick.
He wasn’t entirely wrong, either.
Ever since agreeing to start trying for a baby, Joel had become acutely aware of his own physical limitations in that department, and one of them was stamina. He could scarcely fuck twice in the same night without needing a long and rest-intensive breather. You were young and could roll over ready to go in five minutes.
It wasn’t fair to deprive you now on account of his age.
If you wanted his cum, you were getting it, no question.
Not just once, but multiple times. Again and again and—
“Again,” Joel grunted once he’d shot off his last spurt.
Fifty-eight minutes had passed since he’d taken that pill. It had fully kicked in, and his dick was still hard, even after finishing inside you with a sticky, white-hot flood.
You blinked dreamily up at him.
“You mean it, old man?” you teased him lightly.
I’ll show you what I mean, Joel thought to himself before flipping you over on the sofa. He had your hips tilted up and his cock driving back inside your freshly-fucked cunt in no time at all. He felt his spend coating your walls; it let him glide right in. Joel groaned and jerked himself back out, then fucked back in again and again and again.
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“Again?”
Your word was exhaled in a laugh.
You stood in front of the bathroom sink, trying to tidy up the insides of your legs and push some more of Joel’s load back in, when you felt a presence at your back.
Stabbing your ass.
You started to turn then, puzzled.
“Bend over,” Joel commanded before you could.
You did as you were told because, frankly, you loved getting fucked wherever your old man wanted it—even if he had broken the sink one time he’d pounded you here.
But there was palpable confusion, too. How in the hell had Joel Miller, certified silver fox and owner of a dick old enough to remember Woodstock and the moon landing, managed to get his dick hard in the five minutes since he’d had you face-down, ass-up on the couch?
Or had his dick gotten soft at all?
You wanted to question him about it, or else give a long, hard look at his uncharacteristically long, hard friend, when the next moment had you gripping the counter. Stretching between the legs as Joel pushed back in.
“There she is,” he murmured affectionately.
Really, you’d never been wetter. Or warmer. Or filled to the brim with more sticky-white spend than you could ever hope to hold inside, it felt like. You bent at the waist and let him have his fill. You closed your eyes and rested your head on your forearms while Joel’s hot, bulbous tip grazed your cervix with dizzying alacrity. A smile crept in.
Whatever this was, you wanted more of it.
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His dick was still hard.
Four mind-numbing fucks and another forty-five minutes later, Joel’s cock hadn’t deflated the tiniest bit.
The thing had hammered you so thoroughly he’d nearly destroyed the sink again. You’d whimpered, and whined, and warned him quietly, ‘We just fixed the porcelain, baby,’ and right before he’d painted your walls with his seed, you’d cum for him practically shrieking. Shaking.
Letting him turn you around for a kiss, only to mumble against his mouth with a sleepy, cockdrunk sort of lilt:
“I think you gave me twins.”
Then he’d fucked you in the shower to make it triplets.
Now you were laying out on the bed, truly spent, eyes following him in the semi-darkness of your bedroom after you’d toweled off and collapsed among the pillows.
“What’s gotten into you tonight, Miller?” you breathed.
Joel made it over to the dresser, back turned to you. He rifled through a drawer looking for something extra tight.
“Just missed you is all,” he said, shrugging.
What he needed right now was fabric that was very thick to hide the boner he was sporting. Joel could tell from the way you spoke that you were too tired for round five, and he didn’t want you feeling like you had to go again.
He would be fine.
His dick might not deflate until dawn, but that was okay.
“Wish you missed me like this every day,” you giggled.
When Joel turned around, he was shocked to find you sprawled out on the bed—hands between your legs.
There was a shy smile on your face.
“Baby…” he trailed off, watching your fingers flit through that sticky mess where he’d left it. Where you glistened.
Where you slid your index and middle fingers up and down your slit and drew circles on your clit, eyes shining.
“What? I missed you too,” you said, tone all faux protest.
You had no idea what you did to him when you talked like that. Especially when he was drowning in a state like this.
Hard as a rock.
Throbbing.
Needy.
Scarcely even knowing what he was doing, Joel found himself over by the foot of the bed in a second. Watching your every move with a wild, wipe-open stare he still couldn’t believe you found appealing. He swallowed.
He not only looked perverted, but he felt it, too. It rarely ever left his mind, save for the four or five seconds he spent in ecstasy emptying the contents of his balls inside your cunt, that he was his age, and you were yours. That perhaps the rest of Jackson was right, and he was wrong: he had no business being around a girl like you, much less getting off inside you every night. Was this really what you wanted? A bewildering mixture of guilt, lust, and love all circulated through his skull at that moment, and the longer he spent looking at your fingers, ogling the way you teased them through his cum between your legs, the more he felt certain he was bad.
No one corrupted a thing this sweet and got to call themselves good, anyway, he thought to himself idly.
“I keep gettin’ that…feelin’,” you said under your breath.
Joel’s hand tightened in a fist, and it was then that he realized it was wrapped around his cock. Still watching.
“Yeah, baby? What feelin’?” he returned, almost as quiet.
Still stroking himself up and down, up and down, softly.
You had your legs spread open—knees splayed wider than they’d been before. And your eyes had a tender, placid sheen to them, like they just might cry if they didn’t get release of some kind soon. Then you slowed.
Your touch slipped from your clit to the opaque, sticky globs between your thighs, and that look got even softer.
More desperate.
“Can’t…explain it.” You shook your head, as if pained, and then you sank two fingers inside. Joel could hear the tiny schlick from where he stood, and it almost did him in.
You sucked in a breath and added, “It’s a special feelin’.”
Joel’s fist had already worked its way up to a ridiculous speed. Again, he sensed this might be the worst and most pathetic he’d ever looked, but by the glint in your eyes and the way you kept holding him there, he also knew you weren’t asking him to stop, either. You were needing something else—something he could provide.
Thanks to that one stupid pill.
Joel’s smile was strained as he gripped the edge of the bed, like he was trying to assuage you and him at once.
“Try me, baby. Tell me ‘bout that special feelin’.”
Your middle and ring fingers disappeared inside you.
You whined, “Ain’t fair to say it now. You’re tired, daddy.”
Like hell he was. Joel crawled over the footboard and made his way straight to you, where your body was limp.
His breaths were coming in so fast and his pulse was thrumming so hard that he almost couldn’t hear himself talking. But he ventured to speak as gently as he could.
“I’m wide awake, sweet pea. I’m all ears. Talk to me.”
And if his words didn’t communicate as much, surely the look in his eyes would’ve told you all the rest. Quietly, he slipped his torso between your legs, where you’d inserted a third finger and were moving your hips again. You were fingering yourself, breathing shallow and quick.
“It’s a feelin’ like I wanna be…stuffed…a-and full’a you.”
Joel’s whole body could’ve liquified on the spot. His brain, presently, had all the consistency of a plate of scrambled eggs if he’d had to guess. Feeling his cock swell even bigger and his hips sink lower to yours of their own accord, he had only to grit his teeth and nod his head. He felt the tip of him bump your fingers, and the sensation and the expectation nearly drove him insane.
He mumbled quietly, “Then move your hand.”
You did. You winced again. You looked as though you might be ashamed for wanting him to fill you with his spend, and Joel simply wouldn’t allow that any longer.
Without saying another word, he slid back in.
Your cum and his facilitated the slide, and you opened right up for him. You whimpered, while Joel grunted like an animal. He couldn’t help it; it all felt so fucking primal.
How you could ever feel the need to apologize for wanting more of this was more than he could take.
“Every inch of me,” Joel said, rutting deeper, “is yours.”
He withdrew to the tip, and he could feel strings of arousal linking him to you in a sickeningly sweet way.
You could scarcely even nod, just waiting for him again.
When Joel plunged back in, he heard a feral little cry, and he felt your legs wrap around his waist. He went faster. You fisted the pillow behind your head in one hand, while the other laid flat on his chest, like you were checking for a heartbeat. You could probably hear it thudding a million miles per minute right now. Your hips collided in tandem.
“D— Daddy,” you whimpered.
“That’s it, open up for daddy. Good girl. It’s all yours.”
The sounds his thrusts were making were obscene.
“Every inch?” you breathed, “E-Every drop, too?”
“Every fiber of my fucking being, sweet girl.”
That made you smile, at length. Your hand slid from his chest, down his round belly, straight to a groin that was pounding hard and fast against your own. Joel groaned when he felt your touch sweep inside your legs—right in the space where his cum had come trickling out. You slid your fingers through that mess, then whimpered again.
Then you brought your hand up to your mouth.
You wrapped your lips around your cum-soaked fingers like they were the single sweetest thing, and you sucked.
Joel had no say after seeing that: he had to cum again.
It likely stunned you both—you more than him, by the look that crossed your eyes the second you felt him throb and pulse inside your cunt—but then it kept going.
Rather than stop, or slow down in the slightest, Joel found his hips pistoning faster than they had before. The whole bed frame shook, and your body trembled with every thrust, and the noises between your legs grew even louder; the sound of skin slapping skin was only amplified by the addition of Joel’s hot load in the mix.
The man was operating on impulse. You, through sheer awe and an animalistic need to have every crevice filled. You held him and you grit your teeth, and you let him keep using your body, while you used his. You kissed him.
“Go on, then—make me a daddy. Take my cum, baby,” Joel babbled, brainless, “Make your old man a daddy.”
He couldn’t tell if it were the words or the rhythm or the pleasure that had already been blossoming deep in your gut this whole time, but he felt you fall apart. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist than you had all night, and you screamed his name. Begged for more.
“Cum in me, daddy—pleasepleaseplease just cum, ju—”
And there he went. Again. Flooding your insides with his warmth and letting his cock carve a wild, relentless path through your cunt like it was all the man knew how to do. He filled you up. He felt it leaking down his length with every stab of his hips, and frankly, he didn’t care what he looked like now. You were smiling big, drawing him in for more kisses as he panted and grunted and whimpered like he never had before. He kissed back. Slowed down.
Found himself lost in your mouth as your tongue wove delectably through his own and your hands made their way to his wild, greying hair. You tugged, and he moaned.
He fucked his spend deeper without even meaning to.
All instinct again, it seemed he couldn’t get enough.
Suddenly, he felt a new, strange urge bubble up.
“I-I-I took a pill tonight,” he blurted out, “Know how badly you want this baby, and I wanna give you one.”
Or two. Or twenty. He was barely capable of speech, let alone rational cognition, so he just spoke whatever came to his mind then, still snug inside your legs and panting.
“A pill?” you whispered back.
Joel’s gaze locked with yours.
He felt stupid for it all at once.
“Yeah. Yeah, I just— I know I’m gettin’ on in years, and I probably can’t fuck the way I used to. And you deserve someone who can…Maybe a guy your age, but that—”
“—is the single dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you finished for him, eyes narrowing swiftly in a scowl.
When Joel tried talking again, you cut him off.
“I don’t care what any guy my age is doing, or could do. I want babies with you, and that includes every part, OK?”
Your look softened momentarily, seeing his lips twitch down—you could probably see he wasn’t believing you.
Then you cradled his face in your palms. You smiled. You brushed his nose with yours, and you kissed him again, and with what little strength you likely had left in your body, you dug your heels in his ass and pulled him deeper. Both of you let out soft, low grunts at the effort.
“If you fucked like this at twenty-five, my body wouldn’t have survived anyway,” you whispered in reassurance. Biting back a laugh as Joel smiled, too, “I like things just the way they are. Just like how I hope you like me, too.”
“No—I love you.” Joel shook his head, almost plaintive.
And for the first time that night, he felt himself soften.
Whether it was the pill wearing off or that first thread of vulnerability stretching out between your body and his, he didn’t really care. He kissed the tip of your nose and was about to say something more, when you cut back in.
“I love you more. And since we’re being honest tonight,” you started quietly, nipping at your bottom lip a second, “I might…need you back at the apothecary tomorrow.”
Joel’s face fell.
“Wh— is something wrong, baby?” His voice was tight.
He hated seeing David, but, of course, he’d go back there in a heartbeat if it meant getting you the medication you needed. His stomach was starting to churn, when you reached up to hold his face again. You shook your head.
“No, no, Joel, I’m fine. But I may need prenatal vitamins.”
Now his eyes were going wide. His cheeks heated under your palms, and his cock twitched inside you, reflexively.
“You mean…” he murmured, unable to finish. Swallowing.
Beneath him, he saw you smile and nod.
He nearly choked hearing what followed:
“I meant to tell you earlier, but…my period’s a little late.”
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hoshigray · 7 months ago
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Can i request toji doing this to reader 👉👈
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: YEEEEEESSSS!!! I mean–ahem–yes, you may request this delicious prompt ٩(ˊᗜˋ )و
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (presses and swiping) - Daddy kink - missionary position - praises - unprotected sex (no release on Toji's part, tho) - pet names (baby, mama, sweet thing, sweetie) - voice kink - Toji being a teaseing bastard, lawl - implied prior masturbation.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k
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“Haaah…Toji—Mmmm!“
“Shhh, I’m right here, sweetie…Did’ya sleep well?”
It’s not unusual for you to be asleep when Toji returns home from work, especially when he’s been away for more than three nights. 
But, fuck, when he returns home, all he can think about is having your soft frame in his starved grasp.
You lay so peacefully on his bed, your man watching the rise and fall of your figure and listening to your snore while he quietly enters the room. Once he drops his stuff down, he’ll crawl up to be atop you, emerald eyes scanning every feature of your beautiful face he wants to kiss so badly. 
And the truth is that you’re just as touch starved as he is, left here to await his return while he’s doing God-knows-what (you’re unaware of his assassin gig) and worrying about his absence. But when you awake to the smooth sensation of your lips being pressed on, you don’t scream or holler; far from that. Instead, you kiss back and open your sleepy eyes to see the grown man above you. 
“To…ji?” Your voice is strained with exhaustion yet curious. 
The dark-haired man shushes you with his lips onto yours, moaning with you while his hands spread your legs for him to lay comfortably between. “Missed ya, mama,” his gruff voice so low that your stomach immediately flips at the erotical tone. 
“I missed you, too,” you admit in between smooches, and you melt when he cups your cheeks to keep your face with his. “Missed you so…Hmmm…”
More kisses have you relax, his scarred mouth trailing down to suck on the skin of your neck to listen to more of your sweet gasps. “Yeah? My baby missed me?” You chew your lips as he whispers in your ear, and your hips instinctively move at the motion of his hand, palming the groin of your shorts. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout me while I was gone? ‘Cuz I sure was.” 
“Yesss,” your answer slurred by the lick and kiss to your helix. “Yes, I ha—Aaah!”
His hand sneaks inside the hem of your shorts, not surprised to meet your bare cunt with his fingers. Your wetness instantly coats the rough pads of his fingertips as he nestles between your labia. “Thinkin’ ‘bout me so much that y’re all wet like this?” You can practically hear the grin uplifting the scar on his lips. “Hmm? Ya miss Daddy so much that you touch y’rself while I’m gone, huh?”
Your eyes are sewn shut at the sensation of your folds being fingered, and your lips ajar once Toji inserts his middle finger. Wiggling the digit around, scratching your walls with the blunt of his fingertips, it has you wail softly. “Yessss, missed you—Oooh! S..So much, Daddy…”
“Heh, dirty lil’ thing,” Toji’s finger goes faster, and the raven-haired man enjoying your shrieks gets a little louder, and your breath halts at his ring finger teasing your entrance. “Tell Daddy how much ya missed me.”
You arch your back at the insert of the other digit; your fatigue vanishes with every graze of the two fingers. “Haaah…Miss how you kiss me—Ahh!” He toys with your clit with the brush of his thumb. “H-How good you–Mmnn!–make me feel…” He kisses your forehead; the gentleness contrasting with the salacious squelches from your shorts causes a haze.
“Yeah? Ya like when I make ya feel good?” His fingers go faster, and the presses on your clitoris go frequently. “Just like?”
“Mmnoooh,” Toji kisses you again, this time more passionately with tongue exploring your mouth; you twitch around his digits as they curl and rub. “I…Love it!”
Toji chuckles. “That’s what I wanna hear, sweet thing,” and he removes his hand from your shorts to lick your fluids clean. “‘Cuz I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout makin’ you feel good on my way here.”
He discards your bottoms to the bedroom floor seconds before he unzips his pants and brings them down with his boxer briefs. Toji has his dick free for you to marvel at, the nether limb not yet fully erected, yet the quick pulse of it has your mouth water. He slaps the tip onto your leaky chasm; the sight makes your vagina throb. So much so that you clamp tighter as he pushes the soft tip into you. “Relax fr’ me, mama,” he coaxes you through, gradually pushing every inch of him inside. “Daddy’s gotcha, ‘kay?”
You howl inaudibly, furrowed brows as the base of his cock kisses your folds. And when he grinds his pelvis down? Jesus, you grip the sheets to serve as reins; contracts around his girth are inevitable. 
“Fuck,” he curses above you. “So warm and tight like always…”
When he begins to move, it’s at a slow pace. The feeling of his dick pushing into and pulling out of you so sensually is so erotic to your senses, especially witnessing the thing burrowing inside your warmth with your own eyes. Oh, my God, you can feel it getting stiffer, making your excitement dial-up.
The member goes firmer with every stroke, and every sensation differs from the last. His shaft stands solid inch by inch, your eyes shooting up as you become fuller by the second. One pull and push has you whimper. Another push and pull, and your toes curl at the stretch of him becoming greater. Another slow push, and you're calling for him with a shaky breath as the tip of his now solid limb lightly jabs your cervix. 
And Toji adores the view under his bow, your body reacting to his erect cock scraping your insides to the point of broken cries. “How ya feelin’, baby?” His sultry voice pulls you in as he increases the speed scarcely. 
“Daahh, s-so full,” the snicker to your ear makes you clamp on him harder. “So good…Nnoohh!! Daddy, st–Ooop! D-Don’t thrust so—” 
“Hmm? What’s up?” You don’t have to open your eyelids to see that the older man above you has a mischievous look after suddenly sneaking a quick rut to your entrance. “What; don’t like it when I go like…this?” Toji’s hips go erratically, the motion making it easy to rub on your inner walls and sweet spots to the point of shrilled shrieks leaving your lips. “Or…this?” He sluggishly pulls himself back where it’s only the tip of his shaft that’s nestled inside you, only for him to snap his hips back in a rushed second. It takes a moment for you to process and let out a scream as the cockhead pokes your delicate cervix with precision. 
Your hands frantically find his shoulders to grip his shirt, “Daddyyy, please, sl–Oooh–Slow down…! If you keep goin’, I’ll cu—….Mmmm!!” Your pleas don’t stop him; they fuel him to keep pounding into you. Balls deep for him to keep probing you with hits to the narrow end again, and your legs wrap around his waist without you thinking. How could you think? Your head kept pounding along with the climb of your orgasm, trembles climbing up your spine. 
“What’re ya holdin' it fr’, huh?” All it takes is Toji to bend to your ear once more, kissing your cheek as his pelvis slams into your aching slit. “Cum, mama. Lemme know how good y’re feelin’.” 
As if on command, your climax hits you hard, like a wave crashing down on your poor form, drowning your senses with euphoria like no other. Your cunt squeezes around Toji’s girth, your nerves spiking to a sensitive high that has you winded and cold for a moment. And the man above you hisses at the flutter of your walls; his rocking cadence slows down to relish the feeling.
You wail in ecstasy; a tiny sharp gasp leaves you from the gentle kiss he places on your forehead. 
“There ya go, sweetie,” he coos with a kiss to the chin before straightening himself. You observe him remove his shirt to dump it onto the floor, and your face becomes hotter when Toji ventures down, where his face gets closer to your wet entrance. “ All wet and ready fr’ me…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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siempre-bucky · 5 months ago
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hallucinations
Qimir x Reader
summary: Qimir takes quick action when you get sick on Khofar when you start seeing things
wc: 1.6k
a/n: for the anon that wanted some whump... I hope you like it <3 I'm working on requests rn and they're still open for Qimir!
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You wanted to like this planet. Khofar was a planet you had dreamed of visiting since Qimir gave you a map of the outer rim. The dense forest made you feel so at home, one with the galaxy—or at least you wanted it to feel this way. Your head pounded with every step you took as you trekked behind Mae and Qimir, your lungs struggling to fill with air. You weren’t sure when you began to feel so dragged down and exhausted, you didn’t feel this way often. 
Qimir pulled his pack higher onto his shoulder and looked behind to catch a glimpse of you. His eyebrows knitted together in worry, “You alright?” he asked, tripping over a rock but catching himself gracefully. You looked up with tired dry eyes, they burned as you tried to keep your gaze on him. With a nod, you drew in a breath and powered through to close the distance between you and your friend. 
“Fine,” you answered, masking the illness that took over your body. You wanted to crawl back to the ship and bundle up in the small sleeping quarters that barely slept the three of you. This mission wasn’t about you, Mae was eager to please the master and kill the Wookie. Right now you hated the eagerness that was powering her, it made her walk faster. 
“You don’t look fine,” Qimir sighed, “we can stop.” He slowed his movements as you entered deeper into the forest, his eyes looking at your feet to make sure you didn’t trip over a rock or exposed tree root on the small ledge you had to climb down. 
You raised your hand and put it on his shoulder to reassure him, tempted to lean against him for support as you maneuvered around to get to solid ground. “I’m good. We need to help her find Kelnacca.” He noticed the weakness in your tone, followed by the slight hoarseness that had him wondering when the last time you had water was. “It’s just in front of us.” 
The man looked forward, squinting to see what you were talking about. He knew the exact location and you were nowhere close to the cabin where the Wookie resided. He quickly realized that you were so sick you started to see things. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed as it dawned on him. He grabbed ahold of your arm gently to get your attention. You turned to look at him and he was able to take in the sweat on your forehead and the lifelessness in your eyes. “I need you to sit.” 
“I’m fine, Qimir. I feel ok.” 
Famous last words. A wave of lightheadedness crashed into you, and it made you stumble right into his chest. A chill followed, and suddenly you were transported to Hoth; freezing with no solution. Qimir was warm, the thickness of his coat warmed your cheek for a brief moment before he peeled you off of him. Everything was muffled as he sat you down on a rock, you vaguely heard him call out for Mae. The world spun as you watched him give her an empty canteen and urged her to go get water from the creek nearby. You swore you saw womp rats following her closely as she hastily disappeared into the forest.  
You suddenly felt the warmth of his hand hit your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes meeting his. His hand felt like a pillow, holding you steady as you struggled to stay conscious. His face finally came into focus. Qimir was just as beautiful as the day you met him, when he was still a gun runner for the Hutts, and you were freshly recruited by the Master for your set of skills.  “I think I’m sick, Qi,” you chuckled, giving in. 
“I know,” he sighed, using the side of his sleeve to gently brush the beads of sweat from your forehead. 
He looked around the forest anxiously, no sight of Mae and he had lost track of when he sent her. He grumbled something about her always taking her time and cursed her lack of urgency under his breath. Qimir felt you slump over and it instantly worried him. He’d never seen you so sick before. You managed to fight off colds with his remedies and hide your sniffles when you needed to. It hurt him to see you like this. 
The world went dark after that, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up to the smell of a familiar remedy. There was something about the spiciness that tickled your nostrils that instantly made you feel better. Qimir made it often when either of you got sick, storing containers of it just in case he couldn’t make it right then and there. He made it the first time for you just months after you met, getting caught in a rainstorm and the doors to the place you were staying wouldn’t budge. You were stubborn and demanded to stay with him after he shouted at you to find shelter while he tinkered with the bolts and screws. You were stuck in bed with a terrible cold for a week and Qimir never failed to bring you the special soup. 
You could hear the metal spoon drag along the bottom of the pot, the warmth of a fire soothing the chill you were still stricken with. A blanket had been draped over your torso, you snuggled in deeper to let it come up over your mouth, touching your nose. It smelled of him, earthy and a scent so uniquely Qimir. With a soft groan, you turned your head to the side to take in the room. It would have made a nice shelter if the Master wanted, it was large enough to hold a few people yet it had a charm to it. You felt as if you could live here for a while, fill up that nearly empty bookshelf in the corner, and bring those rusted-over monitors near the dirty window to life again. Maybe just not now though, your body felt as if an entire ship had been dropped on top of you. You didn't want to move, you couldn’t move. 
Qimir saw you wiggle beneath the blanket out of the corner of his eye. He quickly poured the soup into a bowl and carefully walked it over to you, kneeling beside the makeshift bed. “How are you feeling?” He placed the bowl on the table beside him and placed the back of his hand on your forehead. You were still burning up he noted, he took his hand and crooked his long pointer finger, letting it drag along the side of your face. Your head followed his touch so that your face was looking at the ceiling. It was almost sensual the way he touched you, slow and delicate, taking you in even in this state. He was thankful your eyes were closed or you might have seen the red flush on his cheeks.
“Like I got body slammed by a Wookie,” you answered weakly. “Was there a Wookie?” 
He chuckled a bit and shook his head, hair falling into his face, “No,” he said gently, removing his hand and sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been seeing things all day.” 
“Shit,” you cursed with a small laugh. Your eyes finally opened again and you turned your head carefully so it wouldn’t throb. Maybe he was right and you were seeing things because Qimir had changed? The green and brown baggy clothes you were accustomed to were different. He wore jet black sleeveless robes, well structured and they formed to his well-toned body. Had he always been that toned? You let your hand emerge from the warmth of the blanket and pressed your hand against his chest. His gaze was locked on your hand, watching intently as your fingers danced along the folds of his lapels, feeling the surprisingly soft fabric. 
“I-I have to go,” he told you, voice wavering as you touched the bare center of his chest. 
Your fingers were cold but his skin felt as if it was on fire. Qimir’s watchful eyes flickered over to you and your eyes began to droop closed. He took your hand and placed it gently on your chest, but he didn't let go. Carefully leaning in, he pressed his lips to your forehead.
“Stay—” you don’t know what possessed you to say it. You wrapped your hand around his collar again, this time it felt soft like his beloved brown jacket. Another hallucination, but you liked that one. Sure, Qimir had always been handsome, but him in those back robes did you in. Your heart was racing and it wasn’t from the illness. 
 “Eat that when you wake up please,” he whispered against your warm skin. “I won’t be long.” 
You mumbled incoherently and let consciousness slip away as soon as his lips left you. Though it didn’t last long, you woke up once again not knowing how long you slept for. Your eyes slowly opened, and a blurry figure was standing in the doorway. He outstretched his hand, his forearm wrapped in a metal gauntlet that glowed in the moonlight. A large black object flew to his hand. 
You blinked once to sharpen your vision. 
Twice to make sure you weren’t hallucinating again. 
The figure had his back turned to you, that object in his hand was a helmet. You watched as he slipped it over his head, his dark hair covered by the metal and he started to levitate inches off the floor. Those robes looked familiar. Qimir, you thought. But then you giggled to yourself—it couldn't be. 
You were just—hallucinating again. It had to be.
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ttsukiimi · 8 months ago
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˗ˏˋOPEN ARMS! (AND LEGS) ´ˎ˗
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୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ After your divorce, you’re devastated. Devastated enough to welcome the same man who hurt you with open arms. (And legs!)
୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ Ex-husband!sukuna x fem!reader, smut (mdni), unprotected sx, lowk hate fckking, hair pulling, overstim, sukuna is feening, mention of slight toxic relationship, slight rough & mean!sukuna, light gaslighting, reader referred to as (baby, princess)
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“I hate you,” you whimpered through gritted teeth, the absolutely pathetic noise that left you soon after betraying your previous words. Your eyes threatened to fill with tears, and your throat grew a lump you knew was too hard to swallow.
This was all so stupid—you were stupid for welcoming him back into your home.
You questioned your own moral, your self-respect; where did it all go? Maybe he had taken it with him. And with the way he had you acting such a fool, maybe it was right to assume that.
“Y’hate me, baby?” Sukuna mumbled, and you wanted to slap that stupidly hot smirk off his lips, but something in you also wanted to kiss it, caress his face and let him do as he pleased. But you didn’t.
“Inviting you here was a mistake,” you sighed, trying your best to ignore the way chills erupted on your body from just a touch of his hand. Sukuna stroked the supple skin of your cheek and let his thumb roam to your lip, pulling down and watching as the plumpness sprang back in place. His eyes bore into you as he stared down, a mischievous tilt to his head.
“If you think so, why don’t you kick me out?”
Your breath caught in your throat. “I—“
But Sukuna was faster. He had his lips plastered to yours before you could even react, holding your hips so softly in a way that wasn’t him, and that made you melt in his arms. Your knees buckled under the now tenfold weight pushing down on them and he chuckled, deep and taunting.
He pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your lips together. Somehow, he seemed more passionate with you than before.
Had he changed? Had he finally bettered himself? Your heart fluttered in your chest at the thought—albeit against your own will.
And maybe he had changed, but the way he handled you was still the same. All he seemed to want was to use you for his own satisfaction and pleasure.
Which was subsequently why he—seconds after consoling and convincing you that he loved you—had you sprawled out on your bed, stripped of any clothing.
“Wider, f’me, princess,” he ordered, palming himself through his sweats, and you’d be lying if you said that the way that he groped his cock through the material wasn’t captivating. Sukuna crawled onto the bed, making and claiming his rightful place between your legs.
“I missed you, y’know?” he asserted in your ear, cupping your cheeks together to force you to look at him. He let his free hand drift down to your chest, and fondled with your tit, admiring how his palms fit so perfectly around your mound. “Missed these pretty tits too.”
“‘Kuna,” you whined, arching up into his touch so quickly like the movement was ingrained in your brain. You’d been with him for so long, accommodated his every move, it felt wrong not to be with him.
Hence why, out of confusion for your own mental state, you hit him up. However, perhaps this was okay.
Sukuna between your legs, right where he always belonged. Stroking himself with such fervor that it seemed he had been thinking about you too. But he wouldn’t admit it, of course.
“Most of all,” he hummed, snaking his large hand down to your core, cupping your pussy. “Missed this filthy fucking cunt.”
It was all so lewd. His words, his touch, the way he glided the head up and down your sopping folds, coating his tip with your seemingly endless stream of dribbling slick.
"Gonna show you just how much I missed all of you."
And that was the problem. Sukuna wanted you, but not you. He had an obsession with this image of you he created in his head—this perfect wife—which was essentially you, but not.
You also found it hard to love a man that had an insane sex drive. Granted, the dick was heavenly, just not when you weren't in the mood. These little cracks between you drifted you both apart, and that led to the divorce.
With a swift movement, Sukuna had turned you around onto your stomach, propping you up on your knees. He inwardly cursed at how plump your body looked; and was immediately drawn in to smack the malleable flesh of your ass.
Hissing, you turned to glare at him, the complaint about to roll off your tongue caught in your throat as he thrusted in. Sukuna noticed this and rasped, voice so sexily low, and took a handful of your hair. "Shuts you up just like it always does, hm?"
"F-fuck you!" you replied, and one smart remark was all it took for him to have your head shoved into the pillows, rough hands gripping so harshly at your hips.
"'M already doing that, baby." As he pulled your head back by your hair, making sure your eyes held contact with his, sadistically finding satisfaction in the way tears welled in your waterline. Sukuna watched as each ram he drove into you caused your eyes to roll back—your mouth falling agape as soft little ah, ah, ah's fell from your lips.
The sight was unbearable to him, he had to see more, more of that already fucked-out expression taking place on your face. He found his rhythm quickening, the slaps of your bodies becoming more frequent, and your cries became louder.
Sukuna looked down at where you both connected, whistling and smirking to himself at the sight. "Always been so good at takin' dick."
"Mmf—it's easy cause y'r microscopic," you were quick to retort, smiling as you felt his grip on your hair and hips tighten, a little annoyed 'tsk' rolling from his tongue. But he was more than annoyed, he just played along with your little game.
Your cocky grin was wiped off of your face the moment you felt his tip repeatedly ram into your g-spot, stimulating you so much to the point it had you stuttering and your vision blurring. He was essentially taking his anger out on you and your poor pussy, fucking wildly into you like it'd be the first and last time he did so.
"I'm small, huh?" he murmured in your ear, breath fanning past your neck now, smiling against the skin of your shoulder. "I'm fucking small?"
He repeated his question again, though it didn't sound like a question initially, gripping your hair even more tighter.
You whimpered in response, shaking your head no, however, he wanted an answer. Though he knew you were in no state to talk.
"Yeah? Not so small when I'm ruining you." he licked a stripe up to your ear. "And not when I made you cum four times in a row, either, hm?”
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withleeknow · 2 months ago
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october 23rd.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, slice of life; one ass grab, unedited bc i am a danger to society word count: 1k note: i whipped this up pretty spontaneously and i actually kinda loathe it lol but i still wanted to post smth bc it’s my anniversary of joining the fandom 🥺 also a little early bday post for mimo. the bunny in question is leebit but i couldn’t drop any names bc this is not idol specific lol. anywhomst happy jen(o)versary
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
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Minho comes into your shared apartment, shrugging off his coat and taking off his shoes with minimal noise. It’s not that late — just a quarter past midnight — and you’re not a light sleeper by any means, but still.
He had told you not to wait up for him, that his work dinner might end late and he knew you had a long day. Minho patters on socked feet further into your home, expecting you to be in bed already sleeping, surrounded by your loyal trio of cats, and yet, it’s not the bedroom where he finds you.
Yes, you’re sleeping, but you’re on the couch, in front of the TV with Netflix’s question “Are you still watching?” written over a paused scene of the K-drama you’re both currently obsessed with. There’s a stuffed bunny in your arms, held tightly against your chest like it’s your most prized possession. Looks like you’ve been napping for a while now.
The white bunny is dressed in a navy hoodie, his eyes full of mischief that’s only emphasized by a toothy smile that he sports. It’s the plushie that Minho got for you during your vacation trip to Osaka last year, when you happened to spot the little fur ball in the window of a toy store and said it looked like your boyfriend. It’s become a great companion for you ever since you brought it home, something for you to hold onto whenever you miss your love.
Minho is a little surprised. You don’t usually force yourself to stay up for you, especially when you’re tired.
He doesn’t disturb you right away though. Instead, he heads toward the bathroom to change and freshen up for bed. You would probably kill him if he touched you in his outside clothes anyway.
When he returns some fifteen minutes later, he switches off the TV, tugs the bunny by its ears to free it from your embrace and chucks the thing haphazardly to the carpeted floor. It’s your prized possession, not his. Besides, you don’t need your little replacement Minho anymore now that he’s home.
When he scoops you in his arms, you stir awake, adorably confused as he carries you to the bedroom.
“Where’s my bunny?” Half a question, half a yawn.
“Hello to you too,” he mutters, laying you under the covers with narrowed eyes though he still leans in to press a greeting peck to the corner of your mouth. “I guess I don’t even matter as much as your little toy. Not even a ‘How are you?’”
“Okay, love of my entire life.” You roll your eyes with affection, pulling him down to kiss him properly. You can still taste it, the white wine that he must’ve had all night. “How are you? How was the dinner, big baby?”
“Boring. Unbearable. Should’ve just stayed home with you,” Minho laments, crawling into the space next to you, settling into your arms as you hug him close. This is what you should be doing all the time. With him, not some lame rabbit. “Why did you wait up? I told you you didn’t have to.”
You card your fingers through his soft hair, playing with the strands that curl at the nape of his neck. “Our anniversary’s tomorrow. Or I guess it’s today already. Just wanted to see you before the morning.”
“Would it make a difference?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”
Your boyfriend detaches from you for a second to hold himself up on one elbow. He just stares at you for a brief moment, makes you blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. His big eyes, usually keen and sharp, always soften to a dizzying degree when they look at you.
Then Minho is leaning close to slant his mouth over yours again. “You’re cheesy today,” he comments, his tender smile still pressed against your lips. "Happy anniversary."
You only hum in response. One of his hands slides down your body to rest on your ass, giving it a little affectionate squeeze, the moment still entirely innocent despite his sneaky fingers.
You kiss for a while, lazily moving together in tandem, gentle hands holding onto the other person like a lifeline. In a way, you suppose you are. You’re each other’s lifelines, each other’s lighthouses.
When you pull away, it’s to let out a yawn that you can’t hold in anymore. “Happy anniversary”, you finally say back, sleepily. “Can you go get my bunny now? Did you leave him on the floor again?”
Minho rolls his eyes, yet it’s playful and completely endeared. “Your bunny again. That thing is on the floor where it belongs. You replaced me. Didn’t you use to call me your bunny?”
“Don’t do that to him,” you scold softly. “He’s our son. Have you seen the resemblance? You look like you literally birthed him.”
“Oh my god, why would you compare me to that thing like that?” Before you know it, Minho’s rolling over, resting half of his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket to pin you down, to get you complacent before you nag him any further about a toy bunny that he only sometimes gets jealous of. “You’re delirious. Please go to sleep.”
The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, the warmth that you usually feel beside you gradually waning by the second. Minho’s gone, but greeting you in his place is a white bunny with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his big eyes — truly a perfect replica of the man. The same bunny that he always makes a show of hating so much.
The sun is out to play, hanging high up in the sky, slithering through the cracks between the curtains to caress your hair. It feels like it’s gonna be a beautiful day; you’ve got your bunny, the sun, and if you focus hard enough, you’ll hear the sounds of pots and pans out there in the kitchen, Minho’s soft voice humming a tune you’re too familiar with, and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting all around.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 23.10.2024]
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cocteaucherry · 10 months ago
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nanami x f!reader
(little thing I wrote about Nanami’s wife being insecure after the birth of their daughter)
cws- f!reader, self doubt, body insecurity, bodily fluids, p in v (unprotected), oral f!receiving, lacatation kink, nipple play, 18+, light postpartum depression, body worship, creampie
You hated the way you looked.
You stared in the mirror analyzing and observing your post birth body, the way your stomach pudge began to droop, the abundance of stretch marks coating your sides, your breasts full and aching adding to your sheer discomfort.
You adored your daughter, loved her with every fiber of your being but when the lights turned off you were left alone with your thoughts and the body you were convinced was destroyed.
This didn’t go unnoticed by your darling husband of course, he’d watch you heavily over analyze yourself as you pulled on your pajamas for the night. The way you’d wince when your rough feeling shirt clipped the underside of your sensitive breasts.
Nanami wasn't dumb, the way your face filled with worry when he proposed you have a date night just the two of you but quickly made the excuse of not going through the trouble.
“Hey sweetheart, just put her down for the night.. well for a few hours.” He smirked, rubbing his tired eyes.
You were laid on the bed in an oversized purple nightgown, you could wear a trash bag and he’d still find you to be the most ravishing woman he’s ever seen.
“That’s great, let’s get some sleep while we still can.” You said with a small yawn as Nanami crawled on the bed next to you, his strong arms wrapped around your waist causing you to wince quietly.
“Did I do something?” Nanami asked gazing up at you through his eyelashes as he took your hand in his.
“Do..” you sighed, beginning to feel the onslaught of tears form, “D-Do you still find me attractive..?” The words came out as more of a quiet plea than a question.
Nanami stared at you with an astonished look, eyes blown wide as he gripped your hand a little tighter, “Sweetheart..”
Hearing him say your name softly made you begin to sob, “Y/N, why do you not know how beautiful you are?” He pressed kisses to your knuckles keeping eye contact with you.
“I-I don’t feel it anymore..” sniffles came from you as you tried to wipe your tears, “I’m bigger now.. I have more stretch marks, I feel and look tired all the time.. and my stupid boobs hurt,” a hurt chuckle came from you as you tilted your head back.
“Sweetie.. are you aware you just birthed our beautiful daughter a month ago?” Nanami smiled softly, sitting up to caress the side of your face, “Your body is still as beautiful and amazing as it was before.” His calloused thumb wiping the stray tears away.
“K-Kento-“
He shushed you quickly before placing a soft kiss on your chapped lips, “Let me show you how beautiful you are..”
All of a sudden Nanami’s hands lifted your soft nightgown above your aching tits, his mouth then began to leave messy wet kisses on your neck.
You let out soft mewls as his rough hands palmed and squeezed at your tender breasts, beads of soft white milk dribbling out.
Nanami smirked against your neck as he dragged his lips to your cleavage, “I never want you to forget why I fell in love with you,” he hummed wrapping his lips around one of the hardened buds, his tongue graced over the bud as the smooth milk dribbled out.
“K-Ken, fuckkk,” you moaned as your hands found home in his blonde hair, gripping at the roots. His hands worked at your breasts as his lips moved on to the other bud.
He pulled off your breasts with an audible pop! As his head moved to your inner thighs, “I’ll never stop loving you, and if I do shoot me dead angel.” Nanami grinned as he saw you smile lightly, he nipped at the inner corners of your thighs slowly moving towards your panty clad cunt.
Soft kisses were placed where your clit was covered, “Think I can make you squirt through your panties?” Nanami groaned as he inhaled your scent leaving kitten licks on the damp fabric.
“Ken, please don’t tease!” You squeaked as his fingers worked on your clothed clit, Nanami’s teeth nipped at your thighs as his hips grinded into the mattress below.
“Wan’ kiss you to know kiss how beautiful kiss you are,” Nanami looked gorgeous between your legs, hair tousled, pupils blown as his fingers worked delicately.
Your back arched as you felt his tongue ghost over your clit, a whine fell from your lips as Nanami wrapped his lips over your clit. “Let go for me angel..” he hummed as the coil snapped in your belly and your panties soaked. “Fuckk, such a good girl f’ me.”
He placed one last kiss on your thigh before he sat up and began to gently palm himself through his boxers, the whole image was erotic as precum stained his boxers.
“See what you do to me angel?” He gripped his hardened cock through the fabric, “Please give me me a chance to fuck you dumb tonight.”
“K-Ken fuck!” Moans fell from your mouth as your husband continued to pound into your weeping pussy,
“Sucking me in so good, shit,” Nanami grunted out as he lifted your leg onto his shoulder planting a small kiss on your ankle, “Never thrust forget how fucking beautiful thrust you are.” He groaned out feeling your gummy walls begin to contract around him.
“‘M gonna cum Ken!” Your toes curled as you felt him speed up his thrusts, “D-do it you got it baby,” his hand came to rub quick tight circles on your clit as your walls clamped around his cock causing him to still.
“Ohhh fuck! That’s my good girl,” his voice sounded raspy as he buried himself deeper into you spilling his seed.
Pants came from both of you as he leaned over to place multiple kisses on your forehead, there was a calm silence that followed after before it was broken by Nanami.
“I never want you to forget how much of a goddamn goddess you are,”
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starshideurfics · 3 months ago
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Little Steve who gets lost on a shopping trip in Chicago once. He’s bored and wanders towards a window display while his mommy is at the perfume counter, everything is so neat and perfectly in place. By the time he turns around, he can’t see his mommy anywhere.
Steve takes a deep breath and starts walking, ready to go looking for her, only to realize just how big the department store is. He’s overwhelmed and ducks into the middle of a clothing rack, curling up into a little ball, his lip wobbling as he makes peace with the fact he will have to live at the department store. He knows there’s food there because they already had lunch, and they walked past a whole department full of candy. There are little beds in the home department that will be just the right size for him, even if Mommy always says he shouldn’t climb on them and not to embarrass her. There’s even a giant teddy bear in the toy department, so really, living here won’t be so bad!
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“Steve! Stevie! Oh my god! Steven!”
Steve perks up. That’s his mommy. He crawls out from under the rack, through a curtain of suit coats.
“Mommy!” He runs to her and she crouches down to pull him into her arms.
She cries as she holds him and apologizes, words more for herself than for Steve. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I thought you were right next to me. Oh god! What if something had happened to you?”
He gets a new toy truck, a nice one with working doors, and Mommy holds his hand the rest of the trip. They get ice cream. It’s the best day ever, and Steve was only scared for a minute.
A month later, Steve is bored at home. Daddy is in his office and Mommy is on the phone.
Every time he tries to talk to Mommy she says, “Not now, Steve. Mommy’s busy.” Daddy’s office door is locked.
So, Steve decides to run away. If he’s missing, Mommy will want to find him and hold him close. He puts on his shoes, carefully tying the bows on his laces, and leaves.
The sliding door into the backyard is quiet as he closes it behind himself, and he sets off with a determined gait.
Steve makes it far enough into the woods that he can’t see his house anymore. Then far enough that he comes out on a field that he doesn’t recognize. Another little boy is in the field, very focused as he stares at a patch of clover. “What are you doing?” Steve asks as he approaches.
“Catching moths!” The boy points to an open mason jar with leaves and twigs inside, then to the clover, a handful of white and yellow moths among the plants. He smiles at Steve, a gap where one of his baby teeth has already fallen out, then turns back to the clover, taking slow steps and crouching, trapping a moth between his cupped hands. “Can you grab the jar?”
Steve does, holding it carefully as the older boy places the moth inside, holding a hand over the jar’s mouth. “Thanks! My name’s Eddie, what’s yours?”
“Steve.”
“Wanna help me catch some more?”
“Yeah!”
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Together, the boys catch a few more moths (Eddie catches all of them, Steve keeps scaring them by moving too fast). Eddie puts them in the jar, closing the lid, holes already punched in the metal, and they watch the little insects walk along the twigs and languidly flap their wings. Then Eddie unscrews the lid, giggling as the moths fly away.
“Why’d you do that? We worked so hard!”
“Moths can’t live in jars. Mama always says I can look but I can’t keep ‘em,” Eddie answers with a smile. Then Steve’s stomach growls loudly, and Eddie looks up to see how low the sun already is in the sky. “I’m hungry too. It’s almost dinner time, so we should head home.”
“I don’t know how to get home,” Steve says softly, suddenly realizing he got pretty turned around in the woods and home could be anywhere.
Eddie takes Steve’s hand. “That’s okay, you can come with me!” Eddie knows exactly what to do, leading Steve with all the confidence of a six-year-old, ready to start 1st grade next month. They quickly arrive at the trailer park, Eddie knocking at a door before walking straight inside, tugging Steve after him. “Uncle Wayne!”
“Hey there, Bug, who’s your friend?” Eddie’s uncle is tall, with kind eyes. Even if Eddie hadn’t brought him there, Steve’s pretty sure he would like Uncle Wayne.
“This is Steve.”
“Steve’s folks know where he is?”
“He doesn’t know how to get home.”
“Ah, shhh—” Wayne winces, cuts himself short, and Steve’s pretty sure he was gonna say a bad word. “Steve, do ya know your phone number?” Wayne asks, crouching down to be eye-level with the boys.
“No…” That’s a lie. But he needs to make sure Mommy and Daddy are worried about him. If he gets sent home too soon, they’ll just be mad.
“Your address?”
“No.”
“How about your last name?”
Steve just shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. He had so much fun with Eddie, and now everything is falling apart. He should have stayed home…
Wayne ruffles his hair. “It’ll be okay, kiddo. We’ll get you home.” Steve’s stomach growls again. “How about we have a snack? Everything looks better on a full stomach.”
Eddie is still holding Steve’s hand, and brings him over to the little table, letting go so they can climb onto chairs. Wayne gives them chocolate-covered mini donuts and orange soda, asking them about their afternoon, Eddie doing most of the talking.
Then the phone rings, and Wayne answers. “No, he’s here, Bets, Eddie’s with me. — What?” He turns to look at the boys, staring at Steve, before continuing, “Nope, you saved me some trouble. You know Eddie, he picked up a stray. — Pretty sure it is. Yep, I’ll drop Eddie off after.” He hangs up, smiling again. “Hey, Steve, I think I know how to get you home now, so don’t you worry.”
Wayne loads the boys into his truck. He drives the backroads, quickly arriving outside Steve’s house, his mommy throwing open the door when she notices their arrival. “Thank you,” Steve says quickly, scrambling out of the truck and running to his mother.
She holds him close and cries, yells her thanks. Steve waves goodbye to Eddie as he is carried inside. Mommy kisses his hair and tells him he isn’t allowed to go outside without telling her, that he scared her half to death.
Steve just hides his face against her shoulder, snuggling close.
When Daddy gets home he yells, scolds Steve for causing so much trouble, for scaring Mommy and making them call the police. He gets a spanking before be sent to his room for the night.
Steve never runs away again.
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yanderenightmare · 10 months ago
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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, kidnapped reader, bondage, somnophilia, oral, light ass-play
fem reader
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It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m thinking about the incel who’s never celebrated with anyone…
Only… now that he has you locked up in his house all to himself, He’s going to have you treat him to all those Valentine's cliches he’s missed out on – all inside the comforts of your new home, of course.
It’s early morning, and he’s got his cock inside you before you’ve even woken up. His thrusts are sleepy, and his voice is drowsy as he says he looks forward to breakfast – that he hasn’t had anyone cook him breakfast in bed since his mom on his tenth birthday. He likes his eggs sunny-side up, his bacon crispy, his toast golden, and his coffee just a little sweet for the occasion, plus a small glass of juice on the side.
After cumming inside you, he tells you not to take too long – that he wants you back in bed, hand-feeding him before the bed gets cold.
When you get back from the kitchen, he’s picked out a romance to watch – patting your place on the bed with a big grin on his face.
The trouble in your chest is a little eased to see him happy. Though it’s sick doing these types of things with your kidnapper – you much prefer acting like his girlfriend than getting your tits, clit, and ass flogged with a leather belt. 
So you curl up beside him like he gestured and hand-fed him like he’d said and laughed and awed at the movie playing out before you as if you were really enjoying yourself. And when he whispers that he’s made you breakfast as well while lifting the tray off his lap to reveal his hard-on, you hold back the wince and crawl under the covers – not a single slight leaving your lips as you wrap them around him and start sucking him off.
He hadn’t bothered wiping it with a tissue after this morning’s first, and so flakes of dried cum and soured bitterness coat your mouth in overwhelming filth, making tears well up and go dripping pitifully down your cheeks – holding back from gagging as you keep bobbing your head all pliantly while using your tongue to lave over his veins.
He sighs in bliss above the duvet, weaving both hands into your hair as he nudges his tip down further into your plush throat, so warm and wet and tight around him, milking him for the meal in his balls. 
He shoots in right down to your belly when your lips kiss his base, petting your cheek while waiting for you to swallow around him. It takes everything in you not to choke on it and puke – but you’ve done it enough times now to resurface only breathless as you lay yourself to rest against his chest.
He says he’s got you a gift after having let you rest up for a little while – and drags a gift bag from under the bed. You receive it, forcing a shy smile – knowing not to expect a plushie and a heart-shaped box of chocolates but hoping for it nonetheless.
“I thought, since we can’t go outside, we’ll just have to make the most out of it in here...”
The contents of the bag make you swallow thickly – wide-eyed and goose-fleshed with trepidation. 
It’s all red – but that must have been the only thing Valentine’s about it…
Red silk blindfold, red ball gag, red rope, red fluffy cuffs, and a butt plug decorated with a heart-shaped ruby.
“And as for your gift to me,” He breaks your stillness, taking your face in both hands as he lifts it to level his – giving your pout a kiss that breaks with a wet smack. “All your holes all day long is all I want.”
You’re a picture. Bite marks on your breasts, a ring of teeth around your sore nipples – also on the inside of your thighs – along with full handprints welting the soft flesh. On your back with your hands beneath you, kept there in their cuffs – legs raised and spread, tied up in the red rope – mouth sucking on your ball, all muffled whining as you wiggle – blindfold soaked a deep burgundy from the tears streaming down your face. 
Your poor ass spread on the plug he’s eased inside, all cutely swallowed around the heart-shaped ruby glistening in the slick seeping from your pussy as he fucks you hard and fast and unrelentingly with a hand held tightly around your throat – moaning Happy Valentin’s Day!
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BNHA – Shigaraki, Denki, Deku
JJK – Mahito
HQ – Tendou
CSM – Denji, Yoshida
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novvabee · 1 month ago
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And They Were Roommates pt.6
this is kinda silly and cheesy but i just wanted to get this thought out
Summary: Y/N meets Padfoot
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Today was decidedly awful.
You had the worst day at work. You were on your feet all day. your boss was in a terrible mood, yelling at both you and Lily and threatened to fire Mary towards the end of the day. You knocked a shelf over, spilling loads of products in the back. And to top it all off, it was pouring rain.
You had gotten off earlier than you’d expected, the one good thing about today. You opened the door to the house and entered, kicking off your shoes and taking off your soaked coat. You needed something to warm you up and help you relax finally. You thought about making some soup or maybe asking Remus to make you a cup of tea.
That’s when you saw the dog.
A large black, scruffy dog lying asleep on your couch. You gasped and rushed over and sat next to it, instantly petting it. “Hello! What are you doing here?” you said in a high pitched cutesy voice. “Aren’t you the sweetest little thing?”
You looked for a collar and a name tag, but there was none. Who’s dog is this?
“Hey boys?” you called out. There was no response meaning that they had likely stepped out for a bit. You wondered where this dog had come from. Did the boys get one without telling you? Did the dog wander in itself? You’d ask them when they returned home but for now, you decided to just look after the dog.
The dog was now awake and tail wagging as you continued to pet it. The dog was very cute and you could be convinced to keep it if the boys wanted it. The dog looked at you intrigued, but hesitant. You understood, you were a new person, it was a new dog, you two didn’t know each other. But you loved dogs, and petting it was just so irresistible. 
“Hi baby. You wanna watch something with me until the boys get home? We can just sit here and cuddle on the couch,” you said in the same voice. The dog tilted its head at you, but its tail was wagging like crazy. You turned on a show you know the other boys hated, intending on catching up on it while they were out, but you could have sworn you heard the dog huff. 
You sat back and the dog took it upon itself to crawl halfway in your lap. You smiled and pet it. It was incredibly warm so you weren’t complaining. Its fur was soft, silky. You enjoyed the little cuddle buddy. 
You laid there for a little while enjoying the company, until you heard the door open and two voices usher in. James and Remus with grocery bags in hand. You turned in your seat to beam at them.
“Hey love! You’re home early.” James smiled back at you.
You skipped the hellos and went straight to questions. “Who’s dog is this? Is it ours? It's so sweet!” James looked puzzled but Remus’s face blanched.
The two boys saw the dog in question’s head peak over the top of the couch and they instantly shared an exasperated look. 
James chuckled nervously. “Uh-that’s-uh, Sirius-”
“Sirius knows the person the dog… belongs to.” Remus interrupted.
You laughed and teased, “Sirius knows people other than you two?” You continued petting the dog, kissing its snout repeatedly. “Do you know its name?” 
Remus began the same time as James. “No-”
“Padfoot.”
“Padfoot?” you repeated. “What a silly name for a silly little puppy.” you said in the voice. The dog licked your cheek as you giggled. 
Remus looked mortified and Jamed slapped a hand over his mouth.
“What?” you asked. “You two don’t like dogs or something?”
Remus shook his head and muttered “That’s definitely not it…”
You ignored the other two and continued loving on Padfoot. Such a pretty dog. 
“Where is Sirius by the way? I haven't seen him.” You asked the boys. You didn’t think Remus’s face could lose any more color, you were wrong. 
“U-uh I’m not sure. James?” Remus turned to James for help.
“I think he is… working on his bike.” James answered for Remus.
“Oh I see,” you said, still confused as to why they were acting so skittish. “Are you two going to make dinner tonight?” They nodded and you smiled, relieved you could relax for the rest of the night, possibly with your new furry companion. You stood from the couch and made your way over to the stairway. “Ok, well I need to change. Wanna come with me boy?” you asked the dog.
It jumped from the couch and headed straight for the stairs, like it knew where it was going. 
James coughed, “Maybe Padfoot should stay down here.”
The dog turned and again, huffed, almost human-like. 
“Oh, it’s ok! He can come to my room, I don’t have a problem watching over him.” you explained. 
“But-” James started before you could turn and head upstairs. “But what if the owner comes to get him?”
“James, I’ll be upstairs for like 5 minutes tops.” you laughed.
Padfoot raced up the steps before either boy could protest again, and you turned to follow him up. You reached your room and Padfoot had already made himself cozy on your bed. You kissed the top of his head when walking by, opening your dresser to pull out a sleep shirt and some shorts. You began to unbutton your pants, but a pounding on your door halted your actions. “Um, come in?” you called out. You were still dressed so you didn’t think anything of it.
James burst through the door. “Uh, Padfoot's owner is here,” he said quickly.  Damn what a coincidence. 
“Aww,” you frowned, looking at the dog. You walked over and planted one more kiss right between his eyes. “I hope to see you soon, good boy.” 
The dog stood and stretched, then hopped down from your bed, giving James what seemed to be a dirty look as he left. James following, closing your door to let you finally change. They were being weird. Maybe they just didn’t want you to get too attached to it and be sad when it left. 
You change into your comfy clothes, and head back downstairs. You heard hushed arguing as you stepped into the kitchen. The boys, all three now in attendance, looked at you and halted their conversation. “Dog gone?” you asked, slightly dejected. Sirius smirked but it was James who answered.
“Yeah, sorry.” he said, and did look a little sorry.
“It's ok,” you said sadly but decided to let it go. “What are you making Remmy?”
The rest of the night was pretty normal, typical. You ate with the boys and then went to the living room to watch something together. You enjoyed the time with them, talking and laughing like usual, but the night became the early hours of the morning and you decided to head up to bed. Bidding the boys goodnight, you made your way up to your room and got in bed, falling asleep.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Just down the hall, in Remus’s room, the boys gathered. 
“Ok before you two start,” Sirius said in an amused tone “I was asleep on the couch when she walked in, I didn’t have time to change.”
“We’ve talked about this before, you can’t be Padfoot around here, not until she knows.” James lectured.
“Yes, but when is that going to be?” Sirius asked the two, who didn’t have an answer. They had many conversations about the whole magic problem. How they couldn’t change into their animal forms in front of her, they couldn’t do magic in front of her, they couldn’t be around her during the full moons (which they usually snuck out through Sirius’s window and into the woods behind the house.)
Sirius knew that it was a… serious… matter, but at least one thing went his way. 
Laying on Remus’s chest, curled up into his side, James on the other, Sirius laughed quietly, “She kissed me.”
Remus chuckled too, leaving his recklessness be for tonight. “You were a dog.” He pointed out.
“Still kissed me” Sirius said, still smiling. He smiled until he fell asleep with that thought.
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Taglist 💌 : @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar  @champomiel
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y13evie · 1 year ago
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I crawled out of a coma for this
You know thats future man clip of Josh hutcherson jerking off? Imagine that with Mike and reader walks in ANNNDDD he’s all subby maybe even gets edged 😋😋
jae i love u so much i missed you
tags: fuck this is driving me crazy, absolutely pure filth. there is nothing sfw about this. afab!reader. dacryphilia maybe + the tiniest blood
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mike had the house to himself. his whines and empty pleas rang throughout the home. he wasn’t usually this needy, but god he hadn’t seen you in so long and his cock was just so achy and leaky in his jeans. he couldn’t take it. he tried to at least go slowly. pumping his cock at a reasonable pace, swiping his thumb over his slit at the tip of his cock for an extra wave of pleasure. he tried so hard to be patient, imaging your voice telling him to not be so needy. but he couldn’t help himself and began wildly grinding his hips into his hand, imagining it was you.
what the brunette failed to realize is that you had walked into his home a few minutes ago. you heard his cries and whines, each of them going straight to your core. after another agonizing minute you decided to make your presence be known. you walk up to his door and slowly open it to realize the heavenly sight.
“mike?”. your eyes hold a false innocence, knowing full well you had savored his pleas up until this moment. his teary eyes batted up at you. his eyelashes barely hiding his doe eyes. mikes chest was heaving and his head was leaned up against the wall. his thick cock was drooling beads of pre coating his hand and length. his tip was bright pink, begging for attention.
“i need you so, so bad.” those six words were all you needed. your lips make quick contact with his, the kiss was sloppy. he lips swollen from his teeth digging into them combined with his never ending whines. your tongue smoothly found his way into his mouth, he didn’t even begin to try and fight for dominance. he was putty under your touch right now. before pulling away your tongue glided over his bottom lip, tasting the metallic remnants of blood from his biting. he whined. you held the palm of your hand out and mike immediately knew what to do. he spat in your hand and guided your wrist to his neglected cock.
you started of slow knowing that he was sensitive and not wanting to overstimulate him, yet. you began to quicken your pace after noticing mike had become accustomed to your slower one. his big round eyes batted up at you once more, this time tears spilt from them. he watched you stroke him with his mouth slightly open, eyes never leaving you. you opened your mouth to let some drool fall onto his already drenched cock. this sent him over the edge. he held your hand in place and began fucking up into your hand. you let him, knowing you weren’t gonna let him get away with it so easily. his cries got louder and he pulled you towards him, lips animalisticly taking your own. you knew he was close. so just when you believed he was gonna cum, you snatch your hand away. he lips left yours, only leaving a string so saliva connecting you two.
“baby please.” tears began to fall again. “you can’t do this to me, not right now. needa cum so bad, please.”. his eyes were pleading you.
“m’ sorry baby, you gotta beg. you know better than to fuck yourself using me without asking first.” your hand cupped his face, wiping away his tears. you know how pent up he was, the way is cock was leaking so badly, and the way you could see it throbbing against his happy trail.
“pleasepleaseplease let me cum. i won’t do it again- ngh, promise baby. just please- let me feel you.” he sniffled back his tears while begging for release. you couldn’t deny him any longer.
“you’re so good for me, my sweet boy”.
your hand make it’s way back onto his length, resuming the pace you originally set. mike reached his high quickly, reducing him to a whiny mess while you helped him ride out his orgasm. huge white spurts of cum painted his tummy and your hand. you let his breathing come back to normal before peeling your hand off his softening cock. mike picked up a towel from the floor and wiped both you and himself off before leading you to his bed. you immediately felt comfortable in the familiar bed. he found his way into your arms, one of the only ways he can fall asleep.
“i love you so much”, he sleepily mumbles into your neck. you give his temple a loving kiss.
“i love you too, mike. you know i’ll always take care of you.”
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the-californicationist · 11 months ago
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FaceTime (Price/Reader)
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Warning: video/phone sex
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It was around lunchtime when you usually heard from John. His deployment was stationed in some Eastern European locale, and over there, it would be late at night. He usually texted you throughout the day, and you’d wake up to his updates, but it had been radio silence for at least twenty-four hours and you were nervous.
You tried to stay busy, keeping yourself calm by talking to your friends and calling your mom, but the house was so empty without him. Sometimes you stole a cigar just to smell his smoke in the house again, lighting it on a plate like incense. He’d be cross if he found out, but you knew he’d forgive you. 
You logged out of your work email and undressed to hop in the shower. Then, just as you were about to step in, you heard your phone buzz. Abandoning the running shower, you lunged for your phone, turning it over to see John’s profile photo on the screen, smiling at you.
“John?” You panted, fear crawling up your throat. 
“Hey, love,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. He sounded exhausted.
“Thank God. I was worried sick. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he sounded like he wanted to say no, “Everything’s fine.”
That was his code for ‘don’t ask.’ It made you even more concerned, but you kept that to yourself, not wanting to add to his mental stress.
“I miss you, John,” you sighed. 
Then, he was video calling you. You were naked, but he was careful. He would never call you in front of anyone. You swiped up to answer it. 
He seemed surprised to see your bare collarbones. He was shirtless, too. Ready for bed, alone in his bunk. 
“Oh, hey,” he smiled, “Look at you, pretty thing.”
You blushed, 
“Right back at you, handsome.”
He grinned, rubbing his big hand across his chest. You loved it when he did that. There was something so hot about his fingers petting through his thick chest hair, flashing over his pink nipples, warming his tired muscles, rippling and rising with his breaths. 
“Mm, careful, love. I’m already missin’ ya. Start praising me and I’m gonna grab you through this phone,” he joked with you, playfully threatening, flirting through his tiredness. 
“Wish you would, John,” you moaned, testing his limits. If you were lucky, maybe he would take the bait.
You heard the fabric of his sweatpants rustle, and when he repositioned the phone, you saw his pink cock being dragged out, heavy and hardening under its commander’s grasp. You moaned again, more enthusiastically this time, 
“Oh, fuck. I miss that cock,” you propped your phone up on the sink, leaning it against a bottle of soap and the tap. 
You saw your body on the screen, tossing your towel on the counter to show him your entire naked form. Your hands found your breasts, pulling at your nipples, squeezing the flesh for him and for you, feeling better by the second. Your hands were no match for his hands, but it would have to pass. 
“This cock misses you, baby. Why don’t you touch that soft little cunt for me, hm?”
You do as he says, eagerly sinking your fingers into yourself to obey him, sending waves of pleasure through your core as you do. You’re not ready yet, and you work yourself slowly as you watch his giant hand pump his fat shaft faster and faster in the darkness of his bunk. 
“I can’t wait for you to come home, John. I need to taste you again. I want you to put so much come in me that I feel full from it.”
“You like how I taste, love?” His voice was strained. He was concentrating on watching you fuck yourself on your hand. 
“I love it,” you confessed honestly, “You want me to show you how much?”
You didn’t wait for him to reply. You gathered your wetness on your fingers and showed it to him, making sticky strings of your own come drip between your fingers. He groaned, and then he gasped when he watched you lick them clean. 
“Fuck, do that again.”
You dipped your fingers into yourself, coating them with your own fluids and bent down closer to the camera so he could see the gleam of your juices as your fingers slid into your waiting mouth. You used your tongue to show him how clean they were. 
He groaned loudly, a familiar sound, and you saw white streams of come burst from his rosy tip, melting down his shaft like a tall candle. 
“Bloody hell, I needed that.”
You smiled, making a mental note to charge your vibrator before you get in the shower. You needed to let off the insane tension he had just built up inside of you.
You blew him a kiss and he caught it with his free hand, 
“Me, too. Call me tomorrow?”
“No need. Tomorrow, you’re gonna get the real thing.”
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eomayas · 7 months ago
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acts of service • hjs
pairing: joshua x f!reader, established relationship
genre: fluff
synopsis: joshua takes care of you without you having to ask
warnings: none
a/n: i’m starting to look like a joshua stan which is funny because he’s not my svt bias but the brain plays funny tricks on us! but hope u enjoy :) unedited
“joshua, my feet hurt,” you whine, smooshing your cheek against his shoulder. your feet are on fire from the tall, uncomfortable heels you wore on your date tonight. honestly, everything is uncomfortable right now, up to your dress feeling suffocating, and the headache you feel coming on.
“we’re almost at the house baby,” he says. he’s already given you his jacket because you didn’t bring one, and it’s much windier than you guys expected. he doesn’t know if he can give up his shoes too. “can you hold on?”
“fine,” you huff. you know you’re just being dramatic because you’re just so uncomfortable, but you can’t help it. you walk gingerly beside him, wincing with every step you take. it feels like your ankles are going to fall off, though you’re not too upset at the idea of that happening in the next five seconds. “shua, my feet hurt so bad!” you whine after another minute of unbearable pain.
he sighs quietly beside you and stops walking. “ready?” he mutters, one arm slinging under your thighs and the other going across your back. you nod, and he swoops you into his arms bridal style. you circle your arms around his neck and smile to yourself.
“shua, you’re the best,” you sigh, head resting in his neck. he hums, but doesn’t say anything. you decide to keep quiet the rest of the way, not wanting to make him more annoyed than you can tell he already is. he keeps his eyes straight ahead, just wanting to get home and crawl into bed.
finally, you arrive at the apartment building at he walks you over to the keypad to put the code in. you press the sequence of numbers in, and the door pops open. he walks through, careful not to hit your legs against the frame, and walks over to the elevator. joshua sets you down with a sigh, and flexes his hands to bring feeling back into them. “too heavy?” you joke, tone lighthearted.
“no, i lift more than you at the gym,” he mumbles, pressing the button to call the elevator, not even sparing you a glance. “just cold.” you bite your bottom lip and stand there next to him, waiting.
“want your jacket?” you ask.
“keep it.”
the elevator dings and the doors slide open. ever the gentleman, he holds his arm in front of the doors so they don’t slide closed, and waits for you to get in before he does. you press your floor number and lean against the wall, holding onto the support bars to take some of your weight off of your feet.
reaching your floor, you step out of the elevator and, wordlessly, joshua immediately lifts you back into his arms. he carries you down the hall and stops in front of the door. “keys are in the right pocket,” he says. you dig your hand into the pocket of his coat to retrieve the keys, and unlock the door for the two of you.
joshua deposits you onto the kitchen counter and helps you out of his jacket. he disappears down the hall, leaving you with your headache and your aching feet. “god, everything hurts,” you mumble, rolling your ankles in your shoes. “shua, can you help me take these off?” you ask when he comes back down the hallway.
you watch him suck in a breath, holding it for a moment before blowing it out. “of course,” he says, but it’s not the way you’d respond of course! to if somebody asked if you wanted to go to disneyland with them. he comes to a stop in front of you and picks up your foot, resting it on his thigh and begins unlacing your heel.
“thank you,” you say as he works your shoe off. you sigh in relief when your right foot is free from the heel, flexing and wiggling your toes. he takes your foot and softly massages it, and you feel so many things for him at once. “you’re the best.”
he just smiles, annoyance evident in the tightness of his mouth, but doesn’t look up at you. “i mean it. i know you’re annoyed with me right now, but i love and appreciate you so much,” you say.
joshua finally meets your eye, and his features soften. “i know, i love you too,” he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “you’re quite the complainer tonight.” he mutters, kissing your forehead once more.
you smile with teeth at him, leaning back on your hands. “i know—you’re my rock,” joshua bends your leg and presses a kiss to your knee, flicking his eyes up to yours before working your other shoe off.
content sighs leave your lips when he pulls you heel off and massages your other foot. his fingers work deftly to bring down relief into your toes and pressure points, pressing the pads of his fingers into the skin. after a few moments, he stops and holds onto the counter, boxing your legs between his arms. “better?”
“mhm,” you say. he gives you a small smile before leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss. you open your legs to bring him closer and then wrap them around his waist, crossing them at the ankles. “love you.” you murmur, hand softly stroking the back of his head.
“i love you. anything else i can do for you?” he asks, teasingly pinching your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.
you lift your arms up like a little kid. “carry me?” joshua chuckles and nods, kissing you once more before lifting you from the counter and hoisting you into his arms. he carries you down the hall to your shared bedroom, and tosses you onto the bed. he smiles when you shriek and giggle, bouncing a bit before settling on the bed. joshua grabs some pajamas out of the dresser: a pair of sleep pants for him, and one of his big t-shirts for you.
he helps you out of your dress, and laughs when you stretch like a cat. “that bad?”
“horrible.”
“why’d you wear it?” he asks, massaging your shoulders.
“for you, bozo. and it looked nice,” you say, poking him in the side. joshua pokes you back, and the two of you have a mini poking war before his fingers begin to crawl over your skin, wiggling into your sides. “okay, stop! you win.” you say, hands griping his wrists tightly so he doesn’t begin tickling you mercilessly.
he just grins at you and tugs his hands out of your grip. joshua helps slip the shirt over your head. the rest of your night goes something like that; joshua taking care of you without you having to ask for it. he helps you take off your makeup, and earrings and sets them in your jewelry tray before taking care of himself and doing his own night routine. he makes sure you’re tucked cutely in the bed before disappearing into the bathroom to handle his own business.
when he comes back in just his pajamas pants, you throw the duvet open for him. he smiles and slides in next to you, rolling onto his side to curl you into him. and this is what you love most about him, he just always knows what you need without you having to ask.
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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (II)
The two yokai men reach an agreement and you begin your journey together, searching for clues regarding the mysterious case of your incomplete reincarnation. You learn about the third of the Legendary Yokai, a gargantuan monster worshipped in times of war.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]
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The next swish of the mysterious man's sword is parred by Kiritsubo, who managed to make his way to you in time.
"Wait! It's not entirely him, Murasaki, I can explain!" He shouts frantically.
"So you let him live. This is why you've never been good for anything." The dark haired man snarls in a low voice, disgust seeping through his sharp teeth.
It becomes obvious rather quickly that he has the advantage in terms of battle experience. You can only stare in fear, stuffing your wound with your jacket sleeve. What else can you do? You're bleeding profusely and if a demon of Kiritsubo's stature cannot compete, you'd be even less helpful.
"Listen to him, man, I genuinely don't know anything about your master!" You beg as your limbs are flooded with a prickling sensation. They're slowly going numb. "Please. I just want to go home."
Damn it. You have no idea whether the bleeding will stop anytime soon. Is this how you die? You won't even get a proper burial. Even worse, your family will live on thinking you vanished without a trace, unaware you've been stabbed to death by a crazy jackass in feudal Japan. You wish you could make them stop.
You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to think of a way to escape, when you hear both men groan in pain. You look ahead to see them on the ground, clinging tightly to their chests, faces twisted in a grimace. Huh? They couldn't have killed each other in the few seconds they were out of your view. What is going on?
After a few agonizing moments, the yokai seem to calm down. Kiritsubo is gasping for air, clumsily pulling himself back up. Murasaki remains on the grass, forcing himself to appear collected despite the cold sweat coating his forehead.
"That's...what...I...meant..." The silver haired demon groans between hitched breaths. "Whew. You see it now, don't you? She doesn't emanate enough power to pull this off. It's coming from somewhere else."
Murasaki clicks his tongue in visible annoyance.
"So then, what do you suggest?"
"I don't know. But something is stopping you from killing her and there's a chance she's connected to the source."
"What are you guys whispering about?" You inquire, crawling closer towards the horned men. "And why did you suddenly collapse? You scared the hell out of me!"
"You didn't feel anything?" Kiritsubo questions you with raised eyebrows.
"Besides the, I don't know, stab wound? No, thankfully." You respond sarcastically.
Without a word, Murasaki stands up and approaches you. He crouches down to your level and nonchalantly slaps your hand away from your shoulder.
"Hey!"
"Have you ever tended to a wound in your life? You're shit at it." He uses his sword to cut off your sleeve and folds it over your gash with calculated movements. You hiss at the pain and glare at him. "Bite down on a stick if you can't handle it. Better than being dead."
The white haired yokai flashes you an awkward but reassuring smile.
"He might be an ass about it, but he knows what he's doing."
"Why are you helping me, anyways?" you point out, somewhat wary. "You literally tried to kill me a moment ago."
"I changed my mind. You'll help us find the damned bastard or whatever it is he's using to control us."
"What, the priest? Hell no, I'm going back to my world. I've had enough action for the rest of my life."
Murasaki finishes bandaging you and gives you one final press, almost as if messing with you, and you wince. He stands up and slides his sword back in its sheath.
"If you focus a little, you will find there was no question or request in my words. I'm not negotiating with a weakling like you."
Kiritsubo squats down before you and claps his hand together, pleadingly.
"Please think about it, (Y/N). I know you don't owe us anything, but there's a chance we could finally break the seal and be free. If you'd consider helping us. You can walk away, but that won't change the fact you're part of Abe no Nakamaro. He will want his powers back at some point, and we can protect you when the time comes."
You cross your arms and frown thoughtfully, pondering the options. He did save you twice already. So in a way, you're indebted to him. And if he's right, and you will have to deal with more crazy encounters in the future, it's probably better to have two powerful demons by your side.
"Alright, alright. I'll help you." You exclaim with a confident nod.
Kiritsubo grins, satisfied, and Murasaki huffs and looks away. There's a prolonged silence as you wait for them to continue with further instructions, but the men remain quiet.
"So...what now?" you eventually speak up.
"Oh. I thought you knew where to go next." the silver haired man retorts, confused.
"Idiot. She's not a compass." Murasaki scolds him. "Can you stand?" He adds, turning to you. "There's a shrine a few kilometers away that belonged to him. If we leave now, we should make it before sunset. Maybe we can find something there."
You try to prop yourself up, but Kiritsubo promptly scoops you with his sinewy arm and throws you on his back again.
"I'll carry you. Just hold on."
A faint blush dusts your cheeks, but you don't have the energy to argue it. You clutch onto his broad shoulders and nod.
The walk is uneventful and both yokai seem to be distracted. The gentle swaying is causing you to be more comfortable than you'd like to admit and your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, your head drops against the toned back and you fall asleep.
By the time you open your eyes again, you've already reached your destination. You yawn and stretch, lazily scanning the surroundings. A heavy shadow looms over you and you glance up. Still groggy from your nap, you scream before you can fully process the object towering above.
It's a statue. A colossal statue of some sort of monster. A demon with thick, wide bull horns sprawling out imposingly, almost eclipsing the ridiculously muscular build. The creature has four arms, flexed in a threatening manner, with one hand gripping a heavy spear and the other a skull. The crimson light of the sunset creeps through the windows and reflects against the chiseled clay, giving the statue a devilish glow. You feel insignificant.
"That's Suma."
"W-what?" your head tilts to Kiritsubo.
"He's one of us. You might meet him soon, if he's been alerted of your presence. This is a shrine built for him, to bring good fortune during times of war."
You cannot help but gawk at the structure.
"Is it, uh, life sized?"
"Heh, almost. He's a little taller than this." He chuckles, slightly nostalgic.
You swallow dryly. Just a moment ago you thought Kiritsubo was unusually big.
"I'd rather not meet him, to be honest." You shiver at the idea.
"Don't worry about it. Now that Murasaki has joined us, you're pretty much safe from anything. He's the strongest of us." The yokai remarks with a sad smile.
"Really?"
You peek at the dark haired man, currently flipping through dusty manuscripts, and briefly observe him. Compared to Kiritsubo, he's quite slender, with noble, elegant features. And he'd be able to defeat this enormous beast? Then again, the glimpse you've caught of his swordsmanship is enough of a convincing argument.
What a bizarre gathering of creatures beyond your understanding.
You remember to look away when Murasaki grunts and throws the remaining scroll of paper. His lips form a thin line as he rakes his mind for the next step.
"Nothing here. But I'm rather certain he has to be at one of his hideouts. We'll check each and one of them if we have to." 
"Wait, are you saying he's still alive? We saw his body before Sekiya and Sakaki took him for the embalming and burial."
Murasaki scoffs at his partner's gullible nature.
"And you believed it? That parasite spent his entire life searching for ways to prolong his reign. He's probably hiding somewhere, waiting for his renewed part of the soul to return to him." 
He rests against the wall and points a clawed finger at you. 
"This must've been his solution. Releasing his remaining energy until it found a proper vessel to grow stronger, and patiently awaiting the body swap. Then we go back to being whipped dogs fulfilling his whims."
It's your turn to be outraged, twisting your mouth downwards.
"No way, I'll pound that old man into sand!" You bark and throw a jab against the air, emphasizing your threat. "As if I'd just hand myself over."
"I'm not sure if it'll be that easy, (Y/N)..." Kiritsubo glances at you with a hurt expression. "He's a terrifying, vengeful bastard."
"Not if we find him first and take him out." Murasaki counters with a glint of determination in his eyes. "Humans need to rest, don't they? We'll spend the night here and tomorrow we head out. Kiritsubo, find me a map so we can keep track of the locations. I'll bring the wood for a fire."
And with this, he marches out. Kiritsubo scurries to his duty and you quietly follow his movements. He seems to be used to executing Murasaki's orders. You hadn't considered their group dynamic much, but it appears to have some rather complex hierarchies involved. You almost wish you could witness all of them together, wondering how they'd interact with each other. 
Who knows? If you stick around, it could happen eventually. Murasaki was surprisingly easy to convince, so the other yokai might as well agree to keep you alive until you find their source of misfortune. Heh. Almost like a harem, or something. You snicker to yourself.
Which reminds you...
The fire has been lit and Murasaki mumbles something about guarding the perimeter. This time you hurry outside after him. You reach out to the dark haired man and pull on his kimono sleeve.
He turns to you, mildly irked.
"What?"
"Teach me how to use a sword." You state with the assertiveness of an order.
"Why? I can assure you I'm more than enough. I've never been defeated." He stares at you, incredulous.
"I don't want to rely on you all the time. You're already this close to being unbearable", you explain, pinching your fingers together. "Besides, if I'm going to be stuck among beasts, I'd very much prefer being the one doing the cool stuff."
And with that, you pretend to slice through an invisible enemy, whistling the sound of your sword cutting through the air. You furrow your eyebrows, imitating the engrossed expression of a seasoned samurai in the middle of a battleground. Murasaki quickly lifts a hand to his mouth - did he chuckle just now? - and responds, the faintest amusement in his voice:
"As you wish. But I'm warning you now, I won't hold back."
"I've been injured twice in less than 24 hours, I'm sturdy enough." You answer, patting your chest proudly.
Next time one of the Legendary Yokai comes for you, you won't be as vulnerable. That's for sure.
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