#it's not our opposable thumbs
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weirdoughnut · 2 days ago
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Hey. I'm Canadian. I've heard several respectable people think it profound to equate our healthcare to that of the USA, saying that Canadian healthcare is only quieter in its cannibalism. That’s crazy. If you'd give me a second of your time to tell you how crazy that is?
I have a friend who's staying here on a tourist visa for a year. We ended up rushing her to the hospital and finding out she has diabetes as well as issues with her blood pressure. Her hospital bill is over 500$; her tourist insurance will cover this in full. Her initial doses of medication was 203$. Now, she only needs to pay 54$ every three months so she has what she needs to remain alive and well while she visits Canada.
Did you read that? 500$+ for a full day in the hospital; 0$ after a visitor's insurance. 203$ for medication, then 54$ every three months after the first month.
My neighbour's coworker's father had been here on a tourist visa a few years ago. They rushed him to the hospital, too, and their bill was over 5,000$. The hospital pestered them to pay the bill and insurance took its sweet old time, yes, but insurance still covered it in full in the end.
My working-class diabetic friend who's lived here her whole life has no issues affording insulin. Two people in my household are on narcotics—no problem. One person I lived with needed physiotherapy due to a workplace injury and could not go to work for three months—zero fucking issues; she herself is a healthcare worker, and she still got paid her regular wage.
Is Canadian healthcare paradise? No. I'm fat. My medical records have F in the gender/sex section. I talk to old people. A trans woman I met had to choose between HRT and tuition. This place isn’t paradise.
But one cannibal's death would not provoke a healing in Canada that it has in the US. So eat the rich. If the cannibalistic 0.1% are so hell-bent on dehumanizing you, then maybe the change you bare your teeth for isn't cannibalism in return.
After decades of eating dirt, maybe it's just a change in palate.
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chronicsymptomsyndrome · 6 months ago
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for a while when I was a kid I thought “opposable thumbs” was a silly phrase to refer to the trade-off of how intelligent and capable but also horribly destructive and short-sighted humans are….I thought it was like “thumbs are neat but we abuse their power which is very oppose-able. we’re the only creatures that have them and we’re the only creatures fucking shit up like this. coincidence I think NOT” that’s what I thought it meant
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whatudottu · 24 days ago
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We’ve got three people cooking up Crab Lore and yet nobody still has any idea how they’re able to do all that cool science stuff without any hands
Is this post a joke to you :P
I jest I jest, but technically cerebrocrustaceans do have hands, it’s just that they don’t form ones recognisable to the human or any other opposable thumb body plan. Their claws are the only hands they know and they’ve unrelatedly become intelligent alongside their physical evolution, they aren’t the ones who need to adapt hands to compensate for all the engineering and mechanics that are stereotypically smart-people-things to do, they adapt the engineering and mechanics to fit comfortably with the form of their claws. Cerebrocrustaceans are more than intelligent enough to add grips and straps to things that would otherwise be more difficult to hold without other fingers to make it secure, let alone them being significantly more used to claw dexterity and manipulations than our brains could comprehend :P
Cool science stuff requires a brain first to think about that cool science stuff, and a brain smart enough to do that is smart enough to figure out solutions to documenting it or putting the science to practice. I’m no scientist but I feel like the evolution of sapience in a species slows their physical adaptability and compensates for the adaptations the mind creates, just look at humans and our shitty skeleton, we’ve been pretty much the same for quite some time but our evolution of technology especially the initial stages of the modern era were unprecedented! Not to compare monkeys to crabs or anything :P it’s not like Earth crabs are incapable of grabbing things let alone the coconut crabs with their large terrestrial size to actually climb trees hehe-
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the-ugly-ly · 8 months ago
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i cut my thumb open yesterday while cooking and i basically can’t use my thumb now or the cut will reopen because of how deep it was. and it reminded me that i dated a guy with three fingers on one hand and idk if he realizes that he kinda won the lottery that one of those three is a fully functional thumb.
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jarofstyles · 3 months ago
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Appetency 2
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Welcome to the other half of Appetency 🫶 I left it off wholesome, so I’ll give you the smut you deserve now lol. Thank you for such a good reception to it, I had no idea you guys would like them this much!
Part One
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WC- 8.9k
Warnings- smut, penetration and oral (both receiving) unprotected sex, soft Dom H, cum play, cockwarming, etc etc etc
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Harry was warm.
After he had eaten and changed, he lounged back on her couch, making himself back at home at her place. He’d seemed to have no problem doing that. It had done something to her to see her make the furniture look smaller, but she recollected herself. When he patted his lap, however, she shocked him by crawling onto his thighs and sitting across them.
Back again, she was wrapped up in his arms as one of his hands dragged up and down her bare waist while the other sat leisurely on her hip.
He slid his hands down to her thighs, his palms warm against her bare skin. He loved having her like this, perched on his lap like a precious toy he could play with whenever he wanted. She hadn’t seemed to mind the manhandling as he shifted their positions, a giggled squeal all the protest she let out.
He pulled her closer, his body pressed up against hers. His hands continued to roam over her bare waist and brushed over the waistband of those stupid pants that had been working him up the whole night. Of course he’d been behaving the best he could, but the promise of kissing had held him to it. "You're feeling pretty naughty tonight, aren't you?"
“No.” She grinned, face completely opposing what her words said. “I just… I dunno.” She looked down to his chest. “You work out a lot, huh?”
Harry's smile widened as he felt her gaze shift to his chest. He was feeling rather smug, having her sitting in his lap like this after where they’d started. His hands slid further up her thighs, his fingertips tracing small circles against her warm fabric. "Yeah, I work out a lot. Do you like it?" he asked, trying to keep from feeling smug.
“Yeah. You’re just… I don’t know how to describe it. I feel safe with you like this. And I like when you hold me.”
Harry's smile softened at her words, the playfulness melding into true fondness. Of course he loved that she felt safe in his arms, and he loved that she even admitted it. It was a vulnerability in its own way, one that she hadn’t given him much of prior. He wrapped his arms further around her waist, shifting so that she was even tighter against his strong chest. "I like holding you, too." He murmured, his voice soft and low but audible over the TV.
It was hard to muster up the nerve to ask outright, but the ball was in her court. He had given her control in that regard and he wasn’t going to do anything without her saying so, but she could feel him looking at her lips. He’d been staring most of the night. “I think…” She’d been thinking all night, really. For days. But he didn’t know that part. “I think we should kiss. I think you’ve been really nice to me tonight and you deserve a reward for it.”
Harry's heart rate quickened at her words. He had been holding himself back for days, respecting the desire to go as slow as she needed to go. But now, hearing her actually say that she wanted him to kiss her was like a dream. Hands cupped her face, gently tilting it up to look at him. His eyes were darkened with a mixture of desire and affection as he looked down at her pretty face. "I think you're right." He murmured, his voice husky as he took the time to observe her the way he wanted.
Harry's thumb brushed across her lower lip, his touch gentle and yet solid. He had been craving the feeling of her lips against his, and now that it was about to happen, he could barely contain himself. The man had been so good, and now he was getting exactly what he needed. Good things came to people who wait, he was finding out.
It was slow as he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips found hers in a soft, slow kiss. It was gentle, tentative at first, as if he were afraid of going too fast and scaring her off. But as she responded, he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her sweet mouth to taste her the way he’d been desperate for.
Her response was all the encouragement Harry needed to let go of his restraint.
His tongue explored her, tangling with hers in a passionate kiss. He wanted more, needed more, and the feel of her perfect body pressed against his was driving him wild. It was something he’d been essentially edged on after the memory of how perfect it had been the first time, and it brought him right back. He shifted, pulling her up so that she was straddling him so he could have better access to those lips he’d been daydreaming about.
“Is this okay?” He paused to ask her, panting against her lips. “You’re alright?”
“Mhm.” She nodded with her eyes still closed, her nose brushing against his. “I’m so good. Keep kissing me.” The manhandling had made her want to scream in the best way. He’d handled her like a doll, and she loved every single second. For someone who was so loving of control in her life, it felt incredible to let him take the lead. Let him physically move her where he wanted, kiss her how he craved.
Sure, she knew they should probably be slower. Warm up, show more restraint, but she didn’t want to. She wanted him to kiss her like he wanted to. While he had been edged- so had she.
With confirmation, he captured her lips in another deep kiss, his tongue sliding against hers as he devoured her. It was clear that he wanted her. He wanted her so badly it was almost painful.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly on accident. She went to apologize, but there was quickly shown there to be no need. The response had been him letting out a low groan against her mouth, a surprise reaction. He’d liked his hair played with, but she’d not expected the hair pulling thing with him.
Harry was lost in the feel of her lips against his, that softness of her body pressed flush against his chest. But as soon as she pulled on his hair, the sensation sent a bolt of pleasure through his body. He let out a low groan, his hands flexing on her. He hadn't expected to love the feeling of fingers tangled in his hair so much, but there was something about it that had him feeling desperate for another taste.
"Do that again." he growled, the words low and needy. “Tug.”
Y/N needed no second command, repeating the action and feeling her tummy heat up as she watched his head fall back, face paint with pleasure as she tightened her grip. It was hot, so hot that she knew that she wanted to keep seeing him like this. “Yeah?” She whispered, letting her other hand run her nails over his scalp. “You like that?”
Another low moan fell from Harry's lips as she repeated the action, his head falling back against the couch and his eyes fluttering shut. He loved the way she was teasing him, the momentary spark of pain her fingers tugging in his hair sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. "God, yes." he hissed, his voice dark and rough. "Keep doin’ that."
Harry's body shuddered as she continued to tease, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her against him. The sensation of her touch was driving him wild, and he let out another low moan. His body was taut with tension, and he was clearly struggling to keep himself contained. “Fuck, baby.”
Y/N knew she was the one who said they had to behave, but that was before this. Before she was reminded how good he could kiss, how good his hands felt on her body, how gorgeous he was when she made him feel good.
Why had she wanted slow again?
Her poor core ached and she could feel him thickening underneath her, so she decided to give them both a little relief. Rolling her hips, she rubbed herself against the hardness that had grown obvious underneath her, lips pressing over his jaw as she continued tugging his hair.
Harry's eyes darkened as she rolled her hips against him. He couldn't help but push back against her, trying to get more friction. The man let out a low moan as she continued to rub herself against him, the lips on the sensitive spot on his neck, the feeling driving him wild. "God, you're driving me insane." he growled, his voice thick with desire. He tilted his head back, giving her better access to his throat. "Don't stop."
Letting out another low groan in his throat as she continued to roll her hips against him, he watched as she rubbed herself against his thickening length. “Fuck, that feels so good.” He urged, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he lifted his hips up to meet her own.
Harry was beautiful like this. Head tilted back against the couch, hands on her hips as he guided her against his thickening cock, the rocking nudging her clit each time through her thin leggings.
“Harry…” she whispered. “I know I said we should go slow… but this feels so good.” Her forehead pressed against his as she breathed him in, feeling his cock twitch under her.
The man groaned in agreement, his hips grinding up to meet hers as she rolled them against him.” I know what you mean…” he panted, his breathing heavy as he felt her clit through the thin fabric of her leggings. "I jus’ don't want to rush this..."
“Me either, but…” Pressing herself down harder, she let out a weak gasp, feeling all of her mental walls start to crumble. Part of her briefly wondered if she’d regret going past this, but she knew she wouldn’t. Harry had been proving himself time and time again as the days had gone on, never once complaining seriously about the speed she had asked to go… and their sex prior had been so good it was coming back in waves every time she thought about it. “God, I missed you touching me like this.”
He moaned at the feeling of her grinding down against him harder, the feeling almost too much to handle. "You were the one who wanted to take things slow... but fuck, you're making it so hard." he groaned, thrusting up against her as she mentioned missing his touch.
"Fuck, you're so hot..." he laughed under his breath as he continued to rock his hips up against hers, the friction from the movement starting to become unbearable. It felt too good, and he knew if he didn’t stop he could easily orgasm just like this.
It was when her hands tugged at his hair again, he finally lost the battle. Self control slipping, a loud groan escaped his lips as he thrust up against her, the movement causing their clothing to bunch up between them a little. "Fuck, baby… Please, like that. Kiss me" He cursed out, lips connecting with hers again.
Y/N let out a weak moan, let him move her on top of him. Their clothing was evil, she thinks. Evil and downright rude for keeping her from feeling him completely. The notion of slow, the mere thought of getting off of his lap had her whimpering into his mouth, grinding back against him the best she could. “You’re in control. It’s your turn.” she whispered. “I trust you.”
The words "I trust you" sent a surge of power through Harry. He felt like he had conquered something he’d been yearning after for ages, and finally getting the permission to show her just how much he wanted her. Gently pushing her back, he broke the kiss to look at her. His eyes were filled with adoration as he spoke. "Good girl... Y’can always trust me."
With a gentle smile, Harry carefully moved, lifting Y/N with him in his arms, laughing at the squeak of surprise as he shifted her on his lap, smoothing out her hair as he looked at her. "How far do you want this to go?” His cock was throbbing with need, but he wanted a limit before he indulged.
“All the way. Everything.” Y/N knew what she said, she knew she had been the one to pause all physical things between them but just a singular taste had reminded her of the immense chemistry between them. It was no wonder they had such an intense relationship before- even if it was negative. Passion had always been there- it just needed to be channeled a different way. “You can touch me however you want. I need it.” Her hand reached for his wrist. “Need you.”
Harry's heart skipped a beat at her words. He was drowning in desire for her- it would be a pleasant death. Slowly he let his his hand wrap around her wrist and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly before speaking "Okay, Angel... I'll give you everything you need."
With a hand curled around her waist, he whispered in her ear, "This gonna be a fuckin' experience." He took her mouth in a deep kiss, tongue sliding against hers.
With her hand in his, he helped her move from her position to sit higher on top of him, groaning at the view he had been blessed with. Her little crop top exposing her tummy, leggings clinging to her legs, he couldn’t get enough. His hand settled on her waist as a slow smirk stretched across his lips. Looking her over, he let out a sigh, nose brushing against hers as he got closer. "Fuck, you're gorgeous, baby. M’gonna have so much fun with you ..."
Harry’s hands slipped further up her top, letting their breathing mingle as he approached her ribs- only to find the lack of bra. He’d been unsure if it was just a thin one, having seen her nipples hardened against the cotton, but it was abundantly clear that she had forgone the undergarment entirely.
Letting out a ragged breath, he couldn't help himself as he explored the lack of bra with his own hands. "Fuck, baby... no bra today?" His fingers grazed against the nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from her. He wanted more.
“No.” She whispered, breathing quickening as he brushed his thumbs rubbed back and forth over the hardened buds. It was surprising considering she wasn’t usually very sensitive with them, but something about the way he was touching them… maybe just him in general. it had her feeling hot, itching to get it off. “Take it off. please.”
Harry could feel her body temperature rising, heating up as he played with the nipples. It was unreal, finally getting to touch her again. The way she pleaded for it had his dick twitching in his pants, anticipation running through him. He took a deep breath, the words “please” leaving her lips had him inching his fingers up her sides before he hooked them in the soft blue fabric. Carefully, he trailed them up, past her ribs and up and over her tits before tugging onto the fabric and pulling it over her head, exposing her chest for his eager, hungry eyes.
His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her bare tits, the soft, smooth skin and the hardened nipples standing out. They were beautiful. There was no hesitation as he cupped them into his hands, letting out a shaky sigh at the feel of them. It was even better than his memory of them. He loved how they fit perfectly in his palms and how they bounced when he moved them…. They were exactly what he wanted.
“Do you like them?” Y/N could tell he did just by how he was staring, almost like he was in pain- But she wanted to hear it from him. His hands cupping them, warm and large, she ached for more. For his mouth, for him to play with her nipples, something. Anything. “Don’t know if you remembered them from last time…”
Harry's hands gently squeezed around her tits, his thumbs rubbing over the nipples in a slow, maddening circle. "I remember every fucking detail, baby," He whispered, his voice husky with desire. "These perfect tits, how they fit in my hands, how they look when you move f’me..."
Without warning, he lowered his head and suckled her right nipple into his mouth, the sensation enough to make her cry out, before letting go with a soft ‘pop’. "You taste so damn good, everywhere." His voice vibrated against her skin, barely pulling back.. Harry's mouth wrapped around her nipple again, his tongue swirling around it in circles before he suckled harder, his cheeks hollowing out as he pulled on the sensitive bud. He released it with a satisfied hum and moved to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment, his fingers tweaking and rolling the other one.
“Oh, fuck.” Y/N dragged out the curse, fingers returning to his hair as she sat up in his lap to give him better access to her. It hadn’t felt this good before, a new sensation to her as she pulled him in slightly into her plush chest. “That feels so fucking good.”
Harry groaned at the feeling of her soft tits pressed against his face, her fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer. "Glad you like it," he said, before returning his attention to her nipple, sucking on it with more fervor this time.
Harry's hands were in constant motion, squeezing and massaging her breasts and teasing her nipples between his fingers. He was worshiping them, showing her just how much he loved them and how much he had missed them.
The man was honestly in heaven as he worshiped her tits, his tongue tracing the outline of her breast and his fingers tweaking and pinching her nipples. He couldn't get enough of them and he could spend hours just loving on them, but he knew they had other things to do. He would very much ensure he had hours dedicated just to her breasts later on down the line.
“Shit, baby.” Harry whispered against her skin, kissing up her clavicle. “You are perfect… but I know you need some more from me. Don’t you?” Fingers slipped down between them, cupping her poor, hot cunt through her leggings. “Oh.. my poor baby. S’aching, isn’t it?” Harry's cock throbbed as he kissed his way up her neck, his fingers teasing her through her leggings. He knew she needed some release and he was going to be the one to give it to her. "Do you want me to take these off, princess?"
“Yeah.” She mewled, rocking her hips against his hand. it was firm and his grip was solid, oddly arousing for her as he shifted his other hand from her breast to the waistband of her leggings. Taking the hint when he patted her hip, she stood in front of him to let him take them off. “Do it.”
Harry grinned at her eagerness and wasted no time sliding her leggings down her legs, revealing her bare, soaking wet pussy. "Fuck, Me," he growled, taking in the sight of her. “Jesus… did you just say ‘fuck it’ to all your underwear?” The minx wasn’t wearing panties, either. “Planned on doing this to me? Makin’ me lose my damn head and wanted me t’get my hands on this perfect cunt?”
Chuckling at her coy little smile in response, he got his answer. Of fucking course, she did. "I personally didn't plan on this happening, but I'm not complaining." He leaned in and kissed her tummy, his hands roaming her body. He broke the string of kiss and whispered against her silky skin. "You're perfect. Don’t think I can say it enough."
He took her in his arms again, his hard cock pressing against her bare wetness. Carefully, he lifted her off the ground and adjusted her to lay on the sofa, spreading her thighs out for him to get a good look at the glistening cunt he was about to get his hands on again.. His mouth nearly watered as he took her in, the slick little slit and groomed thatch of hair on her mouth. “Mm… I like this.” He ran his fingers over it.
“Harry.” Y/N whimpered, desperation coating the word. Making him wait hadn’t just effected him- no. She had edged herself, too. She was just as desperate for him to touch her, devour her with his mouth like he did so liberally with his eyes. “Please…”
“So polite.” He crooned, nose running over her mound. “Since y’have manners… let me take a taste of this.” With a low, hum of appreciation Harry’s head dipped fully between her thighs. He let out hot breaths against her folds before using his thumbs to spread her open. His tongue flicked out and lapped at her clit, making Y/N’s hips buck off the sofa with the sudden pleasure. Harry laughed against her wet heat but didn’t stop- He had only just gotten started. He lavished her cunt, worshiping every inch as if it was a religious experience.
Harry’s tongue flicked out, tracing her clit with a gentle touch before he sucked it into his mouth. Y/N couldn't help the way she moaned as his suction intensified, making her slowly grind her hips up against his face. She was making a mess of him, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Even more so, he hummed happily against her clit, the sound of soft sucking filling the room. He was being gentle with it, but there was no doubt of who was running this show.
Harry spread her thighs even wider, baring the sweetest part of Y/N to his hungry mouth and roaming eyes as he began to properly eat her out. His tongue lapped at the plump glands of her labia, lathering the delicate skin with heavy strokes. His eyes were almost glazed over with his own pleasure, as if eating her out was a euphoria in itself. When he switched to sucking at her clit again, it was with even more vigor, and his tongue sucked and darted messily against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Y/N's back arched off the sofa, her fingers tangled in Harry's hair as she held him against her throbbing cunt. She was making the whiniest, most desperate sounds as she rode his face, her juices dripping down his chin and neck as he sucked and licked at her clit with reckless abandon.
Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, her head thrown back as she moaned so loud she would be embarrassed if she was in her right mind and not in the depths of being licked out better than she had ever experienced. Her entire body trembled with need, hips bucking wildly as Harry continued his onslaught of wet and sloppy kisses all over her clit. The man looked up at her, his face drenched in her with pure lust in his eyes, his chin all wet and shiny and dripping. “You’re so beautiful.” he mumbled, swiping his tongue across his lips to taste her.
She couldn’t help it. Y/N reached for his face, pulling him up to kiss him. She didn’t care about the mess, tasting herself on him, anything- she just needed the intimacy.
Harry happily obliged her, kissing her back with messy passion, sliding his tongue into her mouth to mingle their tastes. His wet cunt-soaked fingers trailed down her body and slipped between her thighs, slipping one inside of her entrance. Gently, he thrust his finger inside her, loving the way she moaned against his lips, still fucking her needy pussy with slow, steady strokes as he kissed her.
Harry pulled back slightly, plunged another finger into her wet, molten heat, and watched with rapt attention as she cried out, bucking her hips hungrily. Every single moment of this was a fantasy come to life. He hooked his finger upwards, finding her spot, swollen and tender with need for attention. “There you go, sweetheart. Work that pussy on my fingers.”
Y/N laughed in disbelief. Why had she waited for this? Her own fingers had absolutely nothing on him. His were thicker, longer, reaching where she couldn’t. In any other scenario, she’d be embarrassed by the squelching, how wet he was getting her, but from the pride on his face she really couldn’t.
Harry smirked as she writhed, hips moving into his hand as she whined against his mouth.. He knew he was good, but he didn’t realize how much different this would feel with someone he actually liked- someone he cared about. He loved how she moaned, gasping, how her cheeks got deliciously hot. When he took his hand away, he was surprised as she released a disappointed whine.
“No…” She pleaded. “I was so close.”
Harry shook his head, pulling away from the kiss. He was still fully clothed, and he didn’t like it. “No, no, baby- I want you to be close when you cum for me.” He murmured against her lips before sitting back further and stripping down completely. Dragging his shirt over his head, he smirked as she looked over his tattooed torso. “Waited for this, m’not gonna have you cumming unless its around my cock.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly, as she watched him strip. He was so much more than she imagined in all the right ways. The way his muscles rippled, the way his tattoos peeked out with intricate pictures and patterns, swirling and dancing across every part of him. Of course she had seen him before, she knew he was attractive, but with all her walls down and her attraction for him now in the open, she was seeing him for the first time unfiltered.
Their last hookup had been quick, mostly clothing on, so this was new. She’d seen his arms, she had glimpses of his tattoos from those slutty shirts he wore barely buttoned, but seeing it in all its glory was incredible. The tattoos that decorated his hips, leading towards his groomed pubic hair and base of his cock as he slowly pulled the shorts down- god, he was gorgeous.
He didn’t miss her observations at all.
Harry smirked, knowing exactly where her eyes had landed. “See somethin’ you like, baby?” He questioned, letting his shorts fall to the floor completely, leaving him fully nude in front of her. His cock was already straining towards her. It cock was long and thick, with a girth that made it look almost intimidating. None of her toys were as big as him, that was for sure. She could recall how stretched she had felt last time, but seeing it in the light had her mouth watering. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to take it, but she was going to try.
She could see every vein in his shaft, pulsating from the tip to the base. The head was slightly flushed, a bead of precum already forming at the tip. Never had she considered a dick pretty before, but there was a first time for everything. Her eyes traveled upwards along every crevice of his toned core as she drank him in. Harry truly was gorgeous. “Love when you look at me like that, sweet girl.” Holding it in his hand, he gave the base a squeeze while his other hand stroked over the top of her head, smoothing out her hair. “Why don’t you give it a kiss, hm? You’ve been thinking about it. haven’t you?”
Harry let out a hum at her small ‘yes’ taking it as his sign to move forward. He took a small step closer to her, tapping the tip against her lips, smearing a little of his precum onto them. He chuckled, moving his hand to the back of her head and gripping her hair to tilt her head back.
Her breath stuttered, her lips parting slightly as she felt the precum smearing over her lips. Rubbing her thighs together to try and soothe the ache between them, she felt herself get hotter as he moved the tip of his cock over her lips. Ever so gently, her lips puckered and pressed to the tip. A soft kiss to his aching length, followed by another, and another, slowly trailing down as her eyes stayed on his face.
Harry's head rolled back momentarily at the gentle touch, his grip on her hair tightening slightly as he watched her kiss the tip of his cock like it was the most precious thing in the world. He let out a shaky breath, his other hand coming up to gently stroke her cheek as she kissed down his length.
“Like this?” she murmured against him, leading her kisses down to the base of his prick. “Is this what you like, H?”
"Fuck, yes," Harry groaned, his voice strained. "Just like that, princess. Keep kissing it like that. So sweet t’me." He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration as she peppered kisses along his shaft. He couldn't believe how fucking good she was being. It was rewarding to have gone from her sneering and snapping at him to finally having the sweet girl he knew laid underneath that thick skin come to the surface for him. To have her trust this way, to have her eager to please him… it was a gift in and of itself.
Gently guiding her head back up to the tip, his precum starting to leak out and drip onto her lips. "Open your mouth, my good girl." He gently pushed the tip past her lips, the precum smearing her her lips again to make the prettiest picture imaginable. As he pushed further, he made sure to go slow, giving her time to adjust to the size. He watched in awe as her lips stretched around his girth, his heart racing with anticipation.
She didn’t stop him, hands settling on the back of his thighs as she urged him to continue. He continued to push his cock deeper into her mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of her throat. His grip on her hair tightened slightly as he took control of the pace. He could feel her gagging a little, but she didn't try to pull away. “S’that okay, baby?” He checked on her, slowly inching himself back. “Gotta tap my thigh if y’need me to stop, okay? Don't want to hurt you, yeah?”
“Mhm.” She nodded her head, catching her breath. Giving head usually wasn’t one of her favorite things but this… giving Harry head? It was actually nice. The weight of him on her tongue and his affection as he guided himself in, she felt appreciated. Yeah, it was a struggle- her jaw was going to ache- but it was going to be a reminder to her of how good she had made him feel.
He smiled at her reaction, his thumb brushing against her cheek one more time as he pushed back in slightly. “Good.” He praised, watching as she swallowed him down again. The way she gave into him was satisfying on a whole other level. “I know it’s big, but you’re doing perfect.”
Her hot mouth was a perfect fit for his thick cock. He was kicking himself for not getting his shit together earlier. He could have had her for much longer. Granted, all it took was one hook up for him to get his ass in gear. She was powerful that way.
She sucked on him eagerly, her lips wrapping around his girth and her tongue swirling around the head as she got into it on the pull back. It was something else, feeling her true desire for him put into physical action. The sound of her sucking and slurping filled the room, making Harry's eyes roll back in his head.
She felt so incredibly wet, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was staining the sofa. Harry's cock was making her drool in the best way. While she had her fears about being able to take it, his thick cock was a welcomed challenge, touching new spots in her throat. Enjoying giving head was still a new sensation, but seeing him throw his head back and hiss between his teeth as she let herself gag around him was even more arousing than she could have ever anticipated.
His reactions were everything she could have asked for and more. The way his eyes would roll back in his head, the way his breath would hitch in his throat, the way he would grunt and curse under his breath. It was all so fucking hot. She loved seeing him lose control like this, loved knowing that she was the one causing it. “Shit.” He grunted, watching her take him down the best she could. “Baby… it’s time to pull off. I need t’be inside of you.”
With a groan, he reached down to push her off, his cock soon popping out with a lewd trail of saliva and precum connecting from him to her lips. Her tongue stayed out, laying flat as he looked down at her with furrowed brows, lightly tapping the slick tip against the pink. “You are so fucking filthy, baby. Never expected this out of you.”
“I have a lot more where that came from.” Her grin was sly, spit dribbled down her chin as he pulled his cock away from her face. Her poor cunt was dripping, aching, desperate. The man had already edged her, and she needed him inside of her in a primal way. “Where do you want me?”
He chuckled darkly, his eyes raking over her soaked face and hair before landing on her needy cunt. “Laid back on the fucking couch, legs spread wide. I want to see that pretty little pussy of yours while I stretch you open.” His thumb brushed some of the spit from her chin, helping her up as she shakily laid herself down onto the cushions.
Panting heavily, he settled between her wide spread thighs, one hand supporting his weight while the other gripped his cock. He gave it a few strokes, eyes never leaving her cunt as he spat into his palm then coated himself in it.
His cock was a beautiful sight, thick and long with a prominent vein running along the underside as it laid against her swollen cunt. He gave it a few more pumps, smacking the fat head against her clit with a lewd smack. "Fuck, look at that, baby. My cock, against your little pussy. S’right where it should be, isn’t it?”
“Mhm.” Her eyes hooded, she looked like the picture of eroticism that he’d not anticipated. It blew his expectations out of the watch, seeing how beautiful she looked splayed out underneath him.
“I’m sorry for making you wait.”
He snorted, giving his cock another few pumps before guiding the tip against her soaked entrance. "Shut up, baby. You don’t have t’be sorry. I know what this means to you… and I hope you know it means the same to me.” His soft voice took on an edge, though, as his smirk turned mischievous. “I’d have waited as long as it took, But M’sure we’re gonna make up for lost time. aren’t we?”
“Yeah…” She nodded, feeling his body as he leaned over her. She felt safe, even with his taunt. Honestly? The safest she had ever felt during something like this. More eager than overthinking, that’s how she knew this was perfect- That she was making the right decision.
Grinning, he gave her a little squeeze before giving it to her. Harry slowly pushed his cock forward, inch by inch, until it was seated completely inside her. He hissed out a breath, pausing so he could gather his bearings before he started moving, the both of them perfectly still as he rested his forehead against hers.
Harry took his time with as he gave her a kiss, savoring it. It was slow and laced with the passion he’d been keeping under wraps, his lips pressed against hers gently but firmly, opening up to her tentatively before delving in completely. He could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted, feeling the same desperate need he did. Once he broke the kiss, he brushed her sweaty hair away from her face, beaming down at her and humming in pleasure to get her taste on his lips. "My god, you're perfect.” he praised, his voice husky and soft, full of awe.
"It was worth the wait.” He whispered, his eyes shining as he gazed at her. He leaned in to press another tender kiss to her lips before pulling back slightly to look at her again. “You're so fucking beautiful when you're waiting for me, good girl."
“Harry…” She pleaded, nails lightly digging into his shoulder as he ground himself into her, not yet thrusting. “I’m so full.” His cock filled her up to the brim in the best way possible.
Harry's breath caught as her nails lightly dug into his shoulder, making his cock twitch inside of her. He pressed a kiss to her neck and sighed in contentment. "I know, sweet girl," he murmured against her skin. “Do y’need some more?”
“Please. I can take it, I promise.” It was a need, now. Her cunt clenched around him, not fully adjusted but she didn’t care in the slightest. All she wanted was to feel him thrusting inside of her. Giving her what they both had been craving, the thing she had been holding them back from. All gloves were off now, and she wanted to feel every bit of it.
Harry groaned at her pleading, his hips moving of their own accord as he slowly began to thrust into her, each movement calculated as he started to claim her cunt as his own. He set a slow, steady pace, giving her what she needed as he looked down at her with hungry eyes. "I've been waiting for this for so fucking long, Y/N," Harry told her softly, his breath hot against her skin. His eyes searched hers, affection and pure desire shining in his gaze as he gave her exactly what she needed: him. “Longer than you even know. That one time?” He shook his head. “Just that taste was enough t’make me want to change my whole life. Wanted t’have all of you, all the time.”
He continued to thrust into her, each movement sending waves of pleasure through both of them. "Every day since then, I've thought about you, dreamed about you," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "Wanted to be inside you so badly, to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock. Get as close as I could possibly be."
As he spoke, he picked up his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming a bit more urgent. "I've wanted to fuck you in every room of this house, in every bar, at every party- fuck, even the in the store, I wanted you. You don’t even know… Baby, look what you’re doing to me.” He growled, his hips moving deep and thorough against hers now.
Y/N looked up at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes, her mouth parted slightly as she panted for air. Her nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her, her body completely at his mercy as he took what he wanted from her.
As he fucked her, Harry's body was a beautiful mess of muscles and tattoos. His dark curly hair stuck to his sweaty forehead in messy strands as he rutted into her, hips moving with an enthusiasm that showed on his face. Harry's eyes were bright with pleasure - the same pleasure he was taking from Y/N. He could be so obnoxious and pushed the buttons outside the bedroom, but as he fucked her he was raw and unfiltered, all hard lines and moans and whispers of dirty words.
He whispered filthy praises into her ear as he fucked her, his hot breath making her shiver. "You're so fucking good for me. So fucking perfect. My sweet girl taking my big cock so well. You were made for me, weren't you?" His nose brushed her damp skin tenderly. As his words got sweeter, Harry's hand slid up her neck to gently wrap around it, never squeezing- just lightly putting pressure on her. It was a reminder of who owned her in this moment - and the words that followed only reinforced that fact. "Good girl for me. So fucking perfect."
Y/N's reaction was one of pure bliss. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear and gently wrapped his hand around her throat. She felt so delicate and safe in his arms, completely at his mercy as he fucked her and praised her. being fucked by him was the best she had ever had. His cock was thick and heavy, stretching her cunt to its limits as he fucked her. The head of his dick pressed against her most sensitive spot with every thrust, making her see stars. She could feel every ridge and vein as he moved in and out of her, the culmination of it all driving her mad.
She needed more. Falling into the primal headspace, the pleasure overwhelming her, she pleaded for more. “H-Harder.” she said breathlessly. “Give it to me, H.”
Harry's grip on her throat tightened slightly, his other hand reaching down to grip her hip and pull her onto his cock harder. He slammed into her, his balls slapping against her ass with loud smacks. "Fuck, you want it harder? You want my cock wrecking this perfect cunt?" His grin was slightly feral, something she had experienced during their hookup. This was the familiar part, his roughness. “Want me t’own it, baby?”
“Yes.” It came out as a squeak, hand holding his wrist as it held her firmly. “It’s yours. M’all yours.”
Who was he to say no when she asked so nicely?
Harry's thrusts became harder at her plea, his hips pounding into hers as he watched her tits bounce with every slam. He could see her hands gripping the couch, her head thrown back in pleasure. This was all he could have asked for. "Say it again..." He growled, his own body losing control.
“I wanna be yours. I wanna-“ Her eyes watered as she felt her orgasm cresting, building as he tightened his fingers at the spots on her throat to give her that head rush. Doing his best to give her what she wanted.
His fingers tightened at her throat, cutting off some oxygen as he felt her cunt clenching around him, a sign she was close to cumming. He kept his pace, the slick sloppy sound of her cunt getting fucked fueling him on. "Cum for me, baby." he crooned. “Give it t’me, my girl. show me.”
Her orgasm was a slow burn that started at her toes, creeping up her body until it took hold of her senses. Her hands gripped the couch so tightly her knuckles turned white. She tightened around his cock, her walls milking him as her pleasure washed over her. It started hot, making her legs quiver uncontrollably. She could feel herself tightening around his cock, her walls contracting and releasing around him repeatedly as he kept thrusting into her in a hard rhythm.
As she rode out her orgasm, Harry praised her nonstop, his words a steady stream of affectionate praises. It’s what she deserved, only the best. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight when you cum. Look at you, trembling for me, my good girl. You're so perfect, baby. So fucking perfect." His lips connected to hers, the thick, deep thrusts continuing. “Do you think you can give me another one? Hm?”
Y/N's reaction was one of complete surrender. She was giving herself over to him, finally giving in to her innermost desires. The ones she had been holding off for far too long as he proved he truly wanted her. She couldn't speak, could only manage to nod her head frantically as Harry asked if she could give him another one.
As she came down from her intense orgasm, Harry took a second to appreciate the beautiful sight before him. Her cunt was a perfect mix of them, soaking wet and clenching his cock tightly in a few different places as aftershocks of pleasure ran through her body. Her folds were puffy and shiny wet, swollen from the rough use and deep fucking he had given her. A mixture of their juices covered the length of his shaft as he continued to look down at their connection.
Harry could feel his own orgasm building, his balls tightening and his cock pulsing with each thrust. But he knew he couldn't let himself cum yet, not until he had her reaching another orgasm first. He needed to make sure she was completely spent before he allowed himself the release he so desperately craved.
His thumb found her swollen clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles as he continued to pound into her. The little nub was throbbing under his touch, desperate for attention. He rubbed roughly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her see stars. “C’mon, my baby. Give it t’me. Was mean and took one away before, I know… let me give you another one before I cum.”
“Harry, Harry-“ she didn’t get a break. from her orgasm he was hell bent on getting her there a second time. The thrusts were hard and his thumb rubbing at her clit, her sensitive cunt couldn’t take much more. “M’gonna… again.” she babbled. “S’almost there. it’s, I love it. Love it, Harry.” She rambled, pleasure overwhelming her.
“That’s it, princess. Let it happen. I wanna feel you come apart on my cock again.” Harry cooed, his own orgasm right behind hers. He rubbed her clit mercilessly, his thumb moving in lightning fast circles as he fucked deep. Give it t’me again, you can do it.”
Y/N’s whole body tensed again, shaking and trembling as a second, even more intense orgasm hit her. Truly, she wasn’t sure her first had ever stopped. She cried out, her back arching off the bed, her nails digging into Harry’s back.
Harry's orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, his balls drawing up tight as he pulled out of her and painted her swollen cunt in hot ropes of pearly cum. He shot ribbon after ribbon all over her pussy, coating her lips, her clit, and the sensitive folds inside. It dripped down her thighs, pooling on the fabric beneath her. They’d need to get that professionally cleaned, but it didn’t matter. Harry pumped his hips forward into his hand, ensuring every last drop of his load covered her. “Fuck… shit, baby.” he keened, milking every drop out of his cock as his mouth stayed slack, breathing fast. Her body laid limp, gaze lulled at she looked up at him, taking every bit he fave her. Her eyes were glazed over, her breath coming in soft pants as she looked down at the mess Harry had made of her. She could feel the warm, sticky cum coating her folds, dripping down her, making a mess that she hadn’t fully anticipated. It was so much, more than she had ever seen before. She should’ve known- everything with him was.
As soon as he finished, Harry immediately moved to gather her into his arms, holding her close and whispering praise and affection into her hair. "You are incredible. So fucking good. Look at what a mess I made of you." he cooed, brushing the sweaty hair from her forehead. it didn’t matter that they were sticky with sweat, he was going to tend to her.
Maybe it was a bit much, but she whined slightly. The empty feeling… it wasn’t what she wanted. “Back inside. please.” She peeped. Harry lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he settled back, snug inside her. He took a sharp breath as his softening prick giving a weak twitch while the warmth enveloped him. "You are so fucking good to me, so beautiful. I want to worship you, make you feel so good.. You have no idea." He murmured, kissing her gently.
With her sitting on his lap, Harry's arms wrapped around her, holding her close to him, his hands gently caressing her back and hips. He was so tender with her, almost reverent in the way he touched her, as if she were something precious that could break at any moment.
Gentle words were whispered to her, letting their heart rates calm. It didn’t matter that they were a mess, that they needed to clean up, that they were sweaty and sticky. Y/N felt the most satiated she had ever experienced, safe and warm in his arms as he rubbed her back and caressed her cheek, like he couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t get close enough.
"You are so perfect, you know that? So fucking beautiful," He whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek and down her jaw. The skin was hot to the touch from how flushed her face was from the sex, but it was another reminder that it was real- this had actually happened. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the way she looked at him, like he was everything to her in this moment. Especially after how far they’d shifted from their original dynamic.
There was one other question, though, that he needed to know the answer to. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he contemplated the question. He wanted to be her boyfriend so badly, to have her by his side. She said she didn’t want hookups and he’d been working to gain her trust, to show her he wanted more. Hopefully he had proven it enough for her to give it a shot. "Baby... Can I be your boyfriend? Like, officially?" He swallowed, approaching the subject with a gentle caution. It wasn’t like he didn’t know why she had made them wait for this- reflecting back, he had been a prick and didn’t give her any reason to believe he was being serious. But since he’d committed to proving how much he actually wanted her, he could only hope she would understand just how serious he was. “I know m’still proving myself to you, and I understand… but if I can’t call you mine for another day, I think M’gonna lose it.”
Y/N's heart skipped a beat as he asked. She looked at him, really looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, hearing the vulnerability in his voice. She felt the warmth spread through her chest, a feeling of safety and happiness that she had never experienced before. Even though she had been so hesitant about it before, she could feel his change. Had seen it first hand by how he had treated her, how he’d committed to doing everything she’d asked while still showing his personality to her. There had been no sign he had tried to deceive her since asking for this chance, and she couldn’t deny him. She knew he was being genuine and he had done everything he could to give her peace of mind. It was clear that she’d misjudged him in the past, because he was one of the best people she’d grown to know.
“I think we can make that happen.”
The moment she said yes, Harry felt like he was floating on cloud nine. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he held her close as he buried his face in her hair. "Really?" he whispered as he pulled back to look at her. "Really, really?" He couldn't stop the goofy grin that spread across his face as she confirmed it, nodding her head. He laughed in pure joy, giving her a playful nudge. "Good girl, you said yeah."
“Oh, shut up.” She groaned, giving his shoulder a push. “I can take it back.” She wouldn’t, though. Y/N was far too happy In the moment. Maybe it was the orgasm, the endorphins, the high of being asked to be a girlfriend, but this could be the start of something new coming to fruition. Something she’d pushed away and he’d diligently worked for.
Harry's eyes widened as he fell back into the couch. "No way you're taking it back!" He scoffed grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of each one of her fingers softly before letting go. “Worked too hard for you, miss. You’re mine now. No take backs.”
902 notes · View notes
etesians · 3 months ago
Text
“I’ve just had a thought.”
Kei looks up from his phone, eyes drooping, the hour you’ve spent lounging on the couch rendering him immune to the fact that his neck is bent at a disastrous angle against the armrest. It has you pulling him forward, taking the pillow from under your neck to stuff under his, but it’s a fine trade. Now you can lay against the warmth of his chest and settle into what Kei calls the pre-nap—or, what he used to call it, back when he was still too embarrassed to simply say that he wanted cuddles.
“Woah, careful there," he can't pass up the opportunity to start with. Then, "Good kind or bad kind?”
You hum. “Sickeningly domestic kind.”
“So… good,” he decides after a beat, setting his phone down on the coffee table.
Those long, gentle fingers you love slide into your hair, and it’s a wonder how they’re always able to sate an itch that only manifests itself mere seconds before the touch, just so they can be rubbed away by him and him alone; suspiciously wizard-like. “It’s not like I’m opposed to any of that… Since it’s you.”
Aww.
“Honeycakes—” you coo obnoxiously, disguising his name in the endearment, which gets you exactly what you'd expect—the full moon's circumference of his palm eclipsing your vision, his grip light as he smushes your face around for a while, unable to rid himself of the urge. When he lets go a minute later, you share a mirrored look of contentment, all stupid smiles and rolling eyes, before you settle your ear over his heart and he resumes massaging your scalp.
Whatever video he was watching drones on in the meantime. Something about a supermoon coming up and dropping temperatures… Partly rainy with a high of seventy-three degrees and a low of sixty-eight and—wow, he really got sucked into watching the weather channel... Such old man behavior. But it’s quiet enough to tune out against the steady drum in his ribs, so you both leave it be.
“Your idea, baby.”
“Oh, right. So I was thinking—y’know, when we start buying stuff for the house…”
“Mmhm?”
“For utensils, what if we found the same forks you grew up using, and the same spoons I had, so that our future kid'll have pieces of both of our childhoods already built into theirs? It’d be like our own little mismatched set.” "You're right..." It's quiet for a moment. Then Kei blows out a breath, his mind positively sunnier with the image. “That is sickeningly domestic.”
You open your mouth to defend the idea—because it is a good idea, notes-app worthy, even—when he tacks on, “I’m not saying no. God, you’re just so cute sometimes...” the words followed up by him pulling on your cheek. “Is that why you kept hovering by the drawers when we visited my mom? ‘What if’ my ass—you already found them on google, didn't you?”
Your bubbling laughter gives you away. Because he’s right—they’re in your amazon shopping cart as you speak, just waiting on his two cents.
“What about chopsticks, then? And knives. And spatulas.”
Spatulas? You raise a brow.
Kei only shrugs in response.
“The rest can be new. I don’t want all of it to be us holding onto old things,” you pause. “But my star curtains are non-negotiable.”
“They have holes in them.”
“Those are the cutouts! And you even said they were pretty when the light’s seeping through them.”
“Okay, yes, they are pretty," he relents, setting his glasses down by his phone. Silencing the weather report with a slide of his thumb. “But furnishings aside, we’d still be missing one thing…”
“Tsukishima Kei, I know exactly what you’re thinking…” You find yourself being rolled onto your back, his pupils pushing the golden-brown of his irises to the outer rims as they dilate. “And the answer is no.”
“What?” Kei smirks, almost sing-songy as he trails kisses down your collar. He’s not actually gunning for that part of your life together yet. Key word—yet. You’d both agreed to preserve the first year of your marriage for just the two of you. Figuring out the ins and outs of buying a house together and all the legalities that came with it had been hard enough on its own.
Everything after your one-year anniversary, though, is completely fair game.
“You’re the one who brought up a little Tsukishima…”
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madaqueue · 7 months ago
Text
forty-love
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pairing: satoru gojo x suguru geto x f!reader
themes/content: tennis player gojo, tennis player geto. smut. language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (baby, sweetheart), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), creampie, cum eating, p in v (doggy, reverse cowgirl). 18+, MDNI
word count: 5.1k
a/n: can you guys tell i watched challengers and miss tennis also yay my first stsg smut (based on their vibes from hidden inventory bc they're just so silly teehee) hope y'all enjoyyy (i also have no idea how this got so long oops)
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Heat radiates off the court, the sun beaming down against your skin. The air is dry, tense, the only sound between the chirping cicadas is the bright green tennis ball being thrown against the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Gojo readies his racquet, tossing the ball into the air as his eyes meet the glaring sun. In one swipe the crack of his serve electrifies the stadium. The opposing team swings but doesn’t even come in contact with his hit, the ball rattling the fence behind them as applause breaks out.
“And with that, Gojo and Geto have won the men’s doubles!” the announcer’s voice booms through the arena.
The white-haired boy tosses his racquet aside as he charges his teammate, gripping him in a hug as they tumble across the court. Even from the stands their grins are palpable, the shared ecstasy of victory radiating off their bodies.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
“Y’know,” Gojo starts through a mouthful of orange slices, “that backhand you hit during the second set was crazy.”
“Satoru,” Geto chuckles, “you know it’s rude to talk with food in your mouth.” Reaching up a hand, he wipes away the juice that had begun trickling down the other boy’s chin with his thumb. “But thank you. That’s what practice gets you.”
“I practice!” Gojo retorts, continuing to chew the flesh of the fruit.
“When, between all the beer and girls?” Suguru takes a long sip of his Gatorade, his dark eyes never wavering from the bright cerulean of his friend’s.
“S’not my fault I know how to balance work and play,” he teases. “Speaking of which, you’re going to the Nike party with me tonight.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Satoru, we have our final match against each other tomorrow, and I’m not planning to throw the game because you just so happen to convince me to join you in your debauchery.”
“Yes,” Gojo smirks, “because I’m gonna be there, and I refuse to go without you.”
With a roll of his eyes, Geto acquiesces, unable to refuse Satoru’s dramatic pout as he bats his eyelashes. “Fine, but you have to at least let me win a set when we play tomorrow.”
“Deal,” Satoru beams, filling his mouth with another slice of orange.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
The party is loud, neon lights glaring against the darkness of the night. Music blares as miscellaneous players chat, chasing whatever brand deal or sponsorship they think they deserve.
You’re better than that, though - after all, you already have your scholarship lined up for school next year, a full-ride to play tennis until you graduate college. The peace of that knowledge allows you to stand at the outskirts of the party, idly sipping your drink, unpressured to force a conversation with those around you.
When Gojo and Geto walk in, you swear you feel the air thicken. Recruiters flock to them, opponents run from them, but everyone who’s anyone knows that they’re here. You roll your eyes at the theatrics, turning your attention to tug at the hem of your skirt.
“Hey,” a sudden voice appears beside you as the smell of cologne hits your senses, the scent vaguely reminiscent of the ocean. Glancing up, your eyes meet the brightest blue ones you’ve ever seen. “I’m Gojo,” he introduces, extending his hand out.
Crossing your arms, you smirk. “I know who you are.”
Behind him, another man suddenly appears, his dark hair pulled back into a bun. “I’m Geto,” he waves, not willing to enter the trap of your rejection by offering his hand.
Gojo’s lips form into a sly grin as he eyes you up. “Well, we know who you are, too.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he tilts his head - god, he was cocky. “You won the women’s singles today, we caught the end of your game. You played well.”
Taken aback at his genuine compliment, you almost let your guard down, relaxing your shoulders. “T-thanks,” you stammer, suddenly taking in the reality of being flattered by the Satoru Gojo.
“But,” he smirks, “you should’ve won an hour before we got there - your opponent had a weak spot on her forehand volley, you should’ve exploited it.”
And there’s the overconfidence.
Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “Thanks,” you reply sarcastically, turning to leave, “but I don’t remember asking you to be my coach.”
“You haven't, yet.” A devilish smile is plastered on Satoru’s face, illuminated by the glowing lights around you.
“What he means to say,” Suguru interrupts, shooting a momentary glare at his friend, “is that we’d love to play with you sometime. You’re really good, and we can tell you have a lot of potential.”
Your cheeks involuntarily blush at his kindness, his honesty.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” you mumble through the grin beginning to form on your face, still gathering your things to go. The noise of the music was beginning to blur your vision, your head pounding after a full day in the sun. Your muscles hurt, and you just want to collapse into the uncomfortable mattress in your hotel room.
“Leaving already?” Gojo teases as you begin to walk away from the pair.
Geto smacks his arm before looking at you apologetically. “If you’re staying at the same hotel the competition put all the players up in, there’s a way home that goes right along the ocean, if you want us to walk with you?”
“Didn’t you guys just get here, though? Don’t you want to stay and get courted by brand deals or something?” you ask somewhat rhetorically, incredulous that they would choose to leave with you.
“Psh, like we need it,” Gojo rolls his eyes.
With that, Suguru fully shoves him, his lanky limbs nearly catching over a nearby chair before he regains his balance, a pout evident on his face as he stares at the dark-haired man. “Again, what Satoru means is that he’s already got a Nike sponsorship, and I’m on a scholarship for next year; we only came tonight because we had to make an appearance.”
The gentleness in his voice inspires trust, a certain warmth to him that invites you in. Sighing, you accept their shared offer. “Well, I guess if we’re walking the same way back anyways, you might as well join me.”
A soft grin spreads across Suguru’s features as he leads you and a falsely-dejected Satoru from the venue.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
The soft sounds of waves crashing fills your ears from where you kneel along the beach, sand scratching at your bare thighs. The two men sit across from you, Satoru’s head resting on Suguru’s shoulder, his white hair illuminated under the moonlight. Somehow your walk home had detoured when they promised to show you their favorite spot, one they had found when they competed here a few years prior: the cove where you currently rest is private, away from the noise of the party or any other remnants of society. It’s peaceful.
You clear your throat, finally breaking the silence. “You two played well today too, y’know.”
Geto lights up at your words, a new excitement brewing beneath his skin. “You watched our game?” His hands continue methodically working over Gojo’s calves which sprawled across his lap, releasing the tension he had built up from their earlier match.
“Of course I did,” you hum, your fingers absentmindedly drawing small patterns into the sand. “I wouldn’t have missed your game for the world. You two are about to qualify for the Open, and I honestly think you have a good shot at winning it.”
“Oh, we’re gonna win it,” Gojo states matter-of-factly, his gaze lazily focused on the sky above you.
You can’t help but laugh at his confidence, the sound bubbling from your throat against the stillness of the night air. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because,” he begins, rising from where he rested against Geto, locking eyes with you, “we’re the best.”
“You aren’t the best,” you scoff in reaction. Hearing your own words, your face suddenly flushes in embarrassment - you did not just insult the two top-ranked tennis players in the country, did you?
Satoru pulls himself onto his hands and knees, leaning forward towards you as his eyes glimmer with the excitement of a challenge. Suguru’s hand rests on his back, ready to pull him back down if he oversteps (as he often does).
“Oh yeah?” he taunts, inching closer to you. “And why is that?”
“Because what you play isn’t tennis.”
Your words seem to stun the two boys, their actions suddenly halting as they turn to you. Allowing a moment of silence to settle, your gaze falls on the waves before you, the calmness soothing your thoughts.
“Tennis is electricity, an ocean. It’s a back and forth, a give and take. All I saw out there was you taking.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with taking what I want,” Gojo smirks, “especially when what I want is to win.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you follow, “but it’s not tennis.” Standing, you brush the sand from your skirt. “I hope to see you two actually play tennis tomorrow.”
Before you can leave, Geto’s voice breaks the silence.
“Come by our room tonight,” he purrs, gathering his confidence. “I’ll show you I know more than just how to take.”
A glimmer of mischief twinkles in your eyes as you turn to him, a sly smile growing across your face. “I’ll think about it.”
Turning, you walk across the beach back to the hotel.
In your absence, Gojo playfully smacks Geto’s arm. “Holy shit dude, that was smooth!” he laughs. “You think it’s actually gonna work for us?”
“‘Us’?” Geto smirks. “I was the one putting in all the work back there, you were just being an overconfident ass.”
“Psh, girls love my confidence,” he chuckles, a sound like raindrops falling on the calm waters of the sea. His blue eyes nearly glow under the moonlight, a brightness to them that’s never lost on Suguru. “Better head back and get ready for our date, though.”
“You keep saying ‘our,’” Geto teases, a newfound warmth beginning to cover his body in contrast to the cool night air as the two stand to leave.
“You know it’s always you and me, buddy,” Satoru smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders as they plod through the sand. “You and me.”
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
A knock alerts Gojo and Geto, who had been laying across the floor of their shared hotel room, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Satoru reaches the door first, swinging it open and welcoming you inside. Suguru, meanwhile, remains seated on the floor, his eyes covering your body as you saunter towards him: the curve of your thighs perfectly captured under your tennis skirt, the dip of your shoulders under your tank top, somehow a perfect balance of strength and poise.
Crossing your legs, you seat yourself across from Geto; Gojo is quick to join, holding out a beer to you. Shortly after he cracks open his own, he tosses another to Suguru as he spreads his legs out into the space between the three of you.
Tension builds in the air, an unspoken question forming in the back of your minds: why are you really here?
Even you weren’t certain - sure, Geto and Gojo were hot, and talented, obviously, a true force to be reckoned with in the tennis world. But more than that, they had a certain reputation, a gravitational pull to them. Anyone who got close to the pair was launched into fame, their very presence enough to garner wealth by proxy. And, yes, you had your scholarship, but was it a sin to want more? You had dreamt of going pro since you were old enough to hold a racquet, and now, with the two of them seated before you, it finally feels within your grasp.
Satoru clears his throat. “So, did your boyfriend happen to catch your game today?” he raises his eyebrows.
Gojo was many things, but subtle was not one of them.
“No,” you state, your gaze maneuvering between the two. They shift uncomfortably, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
They both visibly relax, grinning in unison.
“Good,” Suguru hums, almost inaudible above the hum of the air conditioning.
“What about you, did your girlfriends watch you play?” you smirk, bouncing the question back to them.
Geto is quick to shake his head, “Don’t have one,” he smiles easily.
Leaning forward, Gojo ruffles his friend’s hair, which now hangs loosely over his shoulders, released from the bun that held it earlier in the night. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he purrs, tilting his head towards Geto, “his lips haven’t touched a woman’s in a while.”
Suguru roughly shoves him off, a sigh leaving his lips. Turning his attention to you, he forces his frown into a weak smile. “I promise, I’ve kissed plenty of girls.” Tilting your head slightly in jest, his words finally register in his mind. “N-not like that, just, I-”
“I think she gets it,” Gojo jokes, pulling himself from where he landed on the ground to sit behind his friend.
Another momentary silence falls, the energy between you crackling in expectation. Satoru’s hands find their way back to Suguru’s body, idly massaging his shoulders as the pair fixes their gaze on you. Behind Gojo’s irises lies burning hot flames; behind Geto’s, well-controlled embers.
“So,” you eye the boys seated across from you, a subtle intimacy underlying their actions, the gentle motion of Satoru’s fingers into Suguru’s skin, “have you two ever kissed?”
“No.” Geto answers immediately.
“Well…” Gojo trails off with a smirk, “remember that one time?”
Suguru shoots him a glare that could kill, eyes cold despite the fire behind them. “That doesn’t count.”
Leaning forward, a grin tugs at the corners of your lips as the rough carpet digs into your skin. “Oh, do tell?”
Gojo mimics your motions, pulling himself onto his knees in front of you. “Around the time we met, Suguru here, the sweetheart he is, got himself a girlfriend but hadn’t had his first kiss yet. So I, being the generous friend that I am, helped teach him how to do it.”
Glancing at Geto, a redness spreads across his cheeks, one that could be designated as rage or embarrassment, either an appropriate reaction to the information that had been unexpectedly revealed. “That was years ago, Satoru,” he grumbles.
“So you’re saying you’re a pro now, Geto?” you purr, egging him on as you place your palms in front of you, the air between you two sparking. “Why don’t you show me what Gojo taught you then, hm?”
A hint of panic lies behind his gaze as he meets yours, taking in a steadying breath. Despite the hesitation in his mind, his body knows he wants this, wants you. Without a word, he lifts a hand to your face, cupping your jaw against his rough fingertips. Pulling you in, his lips meet yours.
He’s soft, calculated, as he kisses you. Parting his lips he gently swipes his tongue along your lower lip, bringing you closer and closer. He’s patient and reserved, just like how he plays.
Separating for a moment, a small smile appears on his face before you turn your attention to the man next to you.
“Alright, Gojo, let’s learn from the coach,” you hum.
Immediately he crawls over to you, a complete and utter lack of hesitation as his hands find you, one moving to the nape of your neck and the other to your hip.
As his lips crash into yours, he’s demanding, ravenous. His tongue roughly works its way into your mouth, exploring it like his first taste of water after hours on the court, like he’ll never get to kiss you again.
Pulling away, you smile, eyes covering the two men seated in front of you. “Okay, c’mere,” you grin as you seat yourself at the end of their pushed-together twin beds.
“W-which one of us?” Geto asks.
As the words hit the air, Gojo is already moving, plopping himself down at the edge of the bed as he looks at you expectantly. Blinking at his friend’s sudden motion, Suguru follows quickly, seating himself on your other side.
Your eyes meet Gojo’s, a hint of mischief behind the cerulean, before turning to Geto, hesitation and nervousness spread across his features. Might as well make this interesting.
Shifting your body into Suguru’s, his eyelashes flutter closed as your lips meet his again. Grabbing at his shirt, you tug him closer.
“Loosen up,” you murmur into his mouth as your hands travel over his body.
Behind you, Gojo’s envy gets the best of him as he reaches around your torso. Placing open-mouth kisses along your neck, his palms travel over your chest, groping at your tits through your bra. He melds into you from behind as a moan escapes your throat, the warmth of their bodies blanketing you. Geto begins moving his arms, grabbing at any inch of your skin he can find. Before you realize it, your clothes are discarded, the boys’ shirts lost to the depths of the dirtied hotel room. Skilled fingers trace the curves of your body, tingles of electricity left in their wake.
Gojo chuckles behind you as his hands find their way between your legs, fingertips tracing your clothed cunt, sending a shiver up your spine.
“A bit eager, are we?” he teases, pulling your soaked panties to the side.
Any insults you began to form die in your throat as his long fingers enter you, a choked, “fuck” the only thing you can get out in response. His fingertips prod at your gummy walls, finding the spot that has you rocking your hips forward, grinding yourself onto him. Your moans echo into Geto’s mouth as you chase your release.
Right as you feel the heat inside you threatening to overflow, Gojo’s motions still.
“W-why’d you stop?” you practically whine, finally breaking away from your kiss with Suguru to face him over your shoulder.
That annoying smirk is plastered on Satoru’s face as he leans forward, his hot breath tickling your skin as his lips brush against yours.
“That was me giving, now it’s my turn to take.”
Gojo’s arms reach around you to push Geto back onto the bed, your body still trapped between the two as you catch yourself on all fours. The dark-haired man looks up at you, stunned into silence as his hands rest tentatively on your hips. You gasp as Satoru suddenly pulls your panties down, the cool air hitting your heat.
Your gaze lands on Suguru’s, your eyes wide before you feel the pressure of Gojo’s cock pressing against your entrance from behind you. Your jaw slacks as your eyes roll back, the stretch of him overcoming your senses as he slides in inch by inch. Geto takes the opportunity to latch his lips to yours, imprecisely sucking against your soft skin.
Satoru’s moans fill the space as he bottoms out inside you. “Fuuuuuck, y’feel so good,” he groans, his pelvis resting against your ass.
As he pulls his hips away, his tip barely kissing your folds, his rough fingertips are suddenly felt against your clit. He imprecisely circles the sensitive bud as he thrusts back into you. In unison, you and Geto moan into each other through the kiss.
“Keep strokin’ me, jus’ like that, mmm,” Suguru hums from beneath you.
Fighting against the haze of your ecstasy as Gojo continues rolling his hips into you, you manage to focus your gaze downward, finding Satoru’s free hand wrapped around Suguru’s cock, precum smearing as he pumps his length.
“S’not - ah - me,” you manage to get out through Gojo’s increasingly rough thrusts.
Geto’s eyelids flit open, landing on Gojo’s over your shoulder. As soon as the two make eye contact, Satoru squeezes Suguru slightly harder as his thumb circles his tip, forcing his eyes back into his skull as his hips thrust desperately into his friend’s first.
Satoru chuckles from behind you as he begins to kiss up your spine, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His teeth nibble at your skin, the slight pain making your back arch further, letting his cock reach impossibly deeper inside you. From the new angle, he hits the same spot he proudly found moments prior.
“R-right there, Gojo, fuck,” you moan, your hands tightly gripping the sheets to stabilize yourself against the weight of his body on top of you.
From beneath you, Geto’s cock twitches in Gojo’s palm as he weakly breathes, “Call him Satoru.”
“Mhm, y’know me so well, Sugu,” Satoru purrs.
His thrusts are unrelenting, imprecise, needy. He’s working purely off instinct and lust as he pumps in and out of you.
“Satoru,” you whine, his motions pulling you closer and closer to your release.
“Y’gonna cum?” he breathes into your neck.
You would roll your eyes at the fact that you can practically hear his smirk through his words before a particularly deep thrust pulls a choked “a-ah mmm” from you.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Gojo chuckles. “Me too, baby, me too.”
His tip repeatedly prods against your sweet spot as his thumb picks up its pace against your clit.
“Hey, Suguru,” the man thrusting into you purrs, “tell me, does she look pretty when she creams all over my cock?”
Geto’s eyes flicker open, his gaze hazy as Satoru continues palming his shaft. Suddenly, your vision goes blind in ecstasy. Broken cries escape your throat as Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, painting your insides white, his hips never stilling as he fucks you through your high.
As you come down, Suguru’s words pull you back to reality. “Yeah,” he breathes from below you, “she looks real pretty.”
“Aww,” Gojo fake whines, “well that’s no fair.” He pulls out, his cum threatening to trickle down your thighs as he removes himself from Geto’s cock to grab the man’s hand. Pulling him up, he spins you around so Suguru is seated with you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. “Now I wanna see her cum while you fuck her, Suguru,” Gojo hums.
With that, the white-haired man kneels before you, one palm resting on your thigh as his fingers spread open your folds. He slowly rubs the mix of your shared essence over your puffy cunt, his eyes full of awe.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Turning his attention back to you and Geto, he smirks. “You’re gonna love fucking it, Sugu.”
Finally taking his initiative, Geto lifts you up slightly, just enough to allow his hardened cock to press against your needy hole. Slowly sinking down on his length, another shaky groan vibrates your throat as he stretches you, a searing pleasure against your walls as he fucks Gojo’s cum back into you.
“S-shit,” Suguru mutters, “feels s’good.”
His hands return to your hips, guiding you forward as you grind against him. He’s slow, methodical, in the way he fucks you, a certain precision to his motions.
“Just like that,” Gojo hums from beneath you, “y’look so perfect.”
Your mind is too clouded to decipher if he’s speaking to you or Geto, and truthfully, you don’t care. You continue rocking yourself forward, Suguru’s cock stretching you so sinfully. He may not have Satoru’s length, but fuck, is he thick. Soft moans escape your lips as you lean your head back into Geto, who takes over where Gojo left off, pressing wet kisses over the skin of your neck. Suddenly, Satoru latches his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue circling your clit as he moans into you.
“Y’taste s’good,” he groans, continuing to lap at your folds, the mixture of his seed and your slick coating his chin.
One of your hands instinctively reaches to grab his hair, pulling him into you as the other holds onto the back of Geto’s neck, tethering you to reality.
Feeling the tug at his scalp, Satoru smirks into your skin. “That feel good, sweetheart?”
The moment you open your mouth to respond he sucks at your clit with a new ferocity, cutting your reply short as it transforms into a garbled moan of “y-ahh mhm.” Gojo chuckles beneath you at your incoherent response, his breath hot. So fucking smug.
Suguru lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you as he gradually picks up his pace. “You’re just - hah - flattering yourself, ‘Toru.”
Gojo smiles devilishly against you as he replaces his mouth with his thumb, rubbing unfocused circles into your bud. Lowering himself, he licks a languid stripe up the base of Geto’s cock from where he enters you before gently placing the man’s heavy balls into his mouth, sucking lightly.
Suguru’s motions stutter as he moans, his teeth biting into your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself from the buzz of pleasure that suddenly overcomes him at the new sensation.
“Seems like the flattery was warranted,” Gojo hums before his lips return to your clit, sucking softly as tension builds within your chest.
You can’t even tell where you begin and they end, the searing kisses along your neck, the sounds of your shared moans filling the space. Suguru’s hips grow increasingly desperate yet restrained, small thrusts into your cunt as Satoru’s tongue continues flicking over your core. Geto’s body remains stiff beneath you as you roll your hips against him.
“Let y’self go, Suguru,” you slur, your mind too fuzzy to process the words, only sensing the tension he holds.
Geto’s palms hesitantly grow greedier as he grips at your skin, allowing himself to chase his own high. His motions get rougher, thrusts deeper; he’s always felt that carnal part inside of him, the one labeled desire, yet he would never give into it. But something in your words, the heat of your body, breaks him free of his self-imposed cage.
His grip on your hips tightens as he holds you in place, fucking himself up into you. He’s grunting in effort, beads of sweat forming across his forehead as his fingertips dig into your skin. His motions are sloppy and rough, but so fucking good. Finally, he’s feeling it.
“Mm, I - ah - m’close,” you whine, his messy thrusts hitting every spot inside you so perfectly. The two men hum into you in acknowledgement, continuing their fervent motions.
Wet sounds of pleasure echo through the room as you get closer, until finally, the cord inside you snaps. Broken moans of their names leave your throat as you come undone, your walls fluttering around Suguru’s cock enough to send him over the edge with you. Throwing his head back, he allows himself to feel it all, take everything you’re willing to give him - as wave after wave crashes over him, his body shaking, he finally feels free.
“So, so pretty,” Gojo hums as his gaze darts between you and Suguru, watching you two be overtaken in euphoria, together.
Satoru’s tongue never slows as he messily laps at your essence, still kneeling between your legs. Your body feels electric as you come down from the height of your ecstasy, every nerve vibrating in pleasure. The mix of Gojo and Geto’s cum feels warm inside you as it slowly drips from your cunt. With a sly grin, Satoru collects the sticky mixture on his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed as he swallows. Without a word he rises from his knees, leaning over you.
Is he about to kiss you?
No, he can’t be.
He presses his chest into you as his palms cup Suguru’s jaw, the dark-haired man’s gaze unfocused as he watches his friend’s motions. Gojo’s blue eyes are nearly black from his blown pupils, Geto’s kiss-bruised lips parted as he pants. Silently, Satoru presses his lips to Suguru’s. Their tongues swirl against each other’s, their saliva mixing as the warmth of their bodies covers you, the heat of the kiss threatening to drown you as you’re pulled under, into the current of the moment.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
Back.
Forth.
Back.
Forth.
The crack of the tennis ball echoes through the stadium, each hit adding to the culminating tension hanging in the air. Each stroke was like thunder, each step like lightning as Satoru and Suguru rally.
Gojo hits a forehand down the line, forcing Geto into his weak spot - one only he would know after years of playing together, one Suguru would never dare to exploit of his teammate. Geto falters, missing the shot; a soft gasp erupts through the crowd.
“Forty-love,” the announcer booms, “game point for Gojo.”
Satoru takes his place to serve, absentmindedly bouncing the ball against the court as he readies himself.
Loosen up, Suguru.
Tossing it into the air, he hits a perfectly placed shot, the spin forcing Geto off his feet unexpectedly as he chases the path. It wasn’t what he calculated - yet, you could see it in Gojo’s eyes; you could feel it.
Geto hits an off-balance return, struggling to regain his composure as he returns to center court. For a moment, you lock eyes with him.
Let yourself go, Suguru.
Satoru takes the opportunity, running up to pounce on the arcing, slow shot Suguru returned. He leaps into the air, his racquet held high.
But Geto senses something is off.
The slight smirk at the corner of Gojo’s lips, the glimmer behind his eyes.
If Geto were a betting man, he would run himself back to the opposite corner of the court, preparing to take Satoru’s signature high-speed smash that would win him the game. Yet, for a moment, Suguru lets himself feel it - that’s not the shot his opponent is about to take.
Instead, he rushes the net. The moment his feet plant onto the ground, Gojo’s racquet makes contact with the ball, the slicing motion sending it twisting the exact opposite direction Geto would have predicted as it spins through the air. Landing it exactly where Suguru stands.
Geto volleys, not allowing the ball to make contact with the ground as he sends it back to Satoru’s side behind him. Gojo knows he can’t get to the ball fast enough, and he doesn’t even try; instead, he stands in place where he landed from his last play.
A wide grin forms on Satoru’s face, one of admiration, pride. “Didn’t expect you to get that one, Suguru,” he gleams.
Turning around, Geto’s back faces his opponent as he returns to his place, ready for the next serve. “Your emotions gave you away, Satoru,” he purrs through a smirk.
As Gojo prepares himself to serve again, a new electricity crackles between them. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you watch them play, sweat glistening off their backs as they pour themselves into the game: the back and forth, the give and the take.
This is tennis.
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greentrickster · 9 months ago
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Okay, so, been reading some good scumplane (OG!Shen Qingqiu/Airplane) lately, because in this house we support Airplane being loved by terrifying/terrifyingly hot men, but also, like... I do love Moshang just so so much as a ship.
And all this has awoken a mighty need in me.
A need for a Moshangjiu fic with scumplane getting established first and then bringing our favorite popsicle in on things.
Anyway, scenario! Shen Qingqiu starts noticing Shang Qinghua when they're disciples via the classic scenario of being smart enough to realize something is fishy about SQH being the only survivor of a demon attack, begins paying attention to his most anxious shidi, accidentally shows his most anxious shidi the simplest of Human Kindness, accidentally becomes shidi's favorite shixiong, accidentally becomes friends with shidi, accidentally catches feelings. Continues being a Sneaky Bastard in order to figure out what shidi is up to (and now also to confirm shidi is single).
Ah, shidi is entangled with an Ice Demon. This shixiong will make use of his scholarly peak's library to learn all and then decide to- wait. Wait, it's super violent by human standards, but is it- is this demon attempting to... court shidi?
...
Not if SQQ dates him first he's not!!!
There follows a whirlwind romance between SQQ and SQH where no one really knows what's going on, especially the two involved, it involves a lot of shit talking about everyone else in their lives, snacks, and accidental trauma bonding.
Also Airplane being Airplane and accidentally spilling that not only is he also kinda crushing (bad) on Mobei-jun, but also Mobei-jun's entire backstory and please, shixiong, I know it all looks bad but this shidi's house is literally the only place in the world it's completely safe for his king to sleep, everyone deserves to sleep without having to worry about their relatives murdering them for things that aren't their fault from time to time, right, shixiong???
Shen Qingqiu: ...goddammit, the demon's a fellow sad little meow meow. (only not in these exact words because he doesn't know these phrases, naturally)
In a wild, bold, and - dare I say it - shockingly sexy convolution of thought processes and ideas, SQQ manages to finagle SQH into letting him meet with MBJ (SQH nearly has a heart attack three times in the process but it's fine, it's cool, this is his life, this may as well happen, it's fine-).
SQQ: It has come to my attention that my shidi is spying for you on our sect.
MBJ: (glowering at SQH, who is cowering behind shixiong wondering how he got talked into all this)
SQQ: However it also appears that this is merely a cover story and the only thing you really do is use his room to nap. And also that you are quite fond of him.
SQH: (This is it, this is how I die. Again.)
MBJ: (...if I stare straight ahead and don't change my expression, no one will be able to tell that he's right)
SQQ: So anyway I think you should join Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.
MBJ: (gears grinding)
SQH: (squawking splutters of protest and confusion)
SQQ: (who speaks panicking!SQH at this point) Stop that, it's perfectly reasonable. He has the head disciple of our logistics peak under his thumb, it would be the simplest thing in the world for him to have you throw the sect into absolute chaos without even trying, then organize an attack, swoop in, and crush us all. He could have done it years ago, but he never has, he never even seems to initiate anything. I don't think he even cares about taking the Northern Throne, I think he's just incompetent about wanting to spend time with you. So he might as well just lie low until our shizuns ascend and then I'll take him on as a disciple on Qing Jing and you two can stop sneaking around like idiots.
MBJ: >8O
SQQ: Are you actually opposed?
MBJ: (folds arms and looks away sulkily, because like... it's true but you don't have to say it like that)
SQH: 8O ...reverse uno...
SQQ: What?
SQH: You're reverse unoing my blorbo!
SQQ: Quit making up word-
SQQ cannot continue because the System just presented the option to accept this potential new plot line (even if it does have the rather confusing title of 'Shidi Has Two Hands'), and holy shit, Mobei-jun seems to be potentially down for it, holy shit, apparently Mobei-jun actually likes me, holy shit, SQQ may have just solved all my problems-?!? This is great, this is fantastic, this is the best day of my life, this- is a long time I'm being allowed to be myself about all this, why is Shen shixiong not interrupting...?
Ah.
It is because I am kissing him full on the lips.
Cool cool cool.
At least I'm gonna die on a high note.
SQQ: O///O o_o (ahem) Shidi's- shidi's a really bad kisser.
SQH: Ah-haha, I can explain-
SQQ: We should work on that. Later.
SQH: (BEST DAY OF BOTH MY LIVES!!!)
MBJ: (I... did not actually hate watching that. Hm.)
Anyway, he agrees to the plan, SQQ and SQH start dating, some more time passes, the previous generation of peak lords ascend, the new generation take their places, and a week later Mobei-jun is an outer disciple of Qing Jing Peak.
The other peak lords are not amused, Qingqiu that is a demon, no.
SQQ: So what I'm hearing is that whole 'Cang Qiong will accept anyone from anywhere' philosophy was a lie then?
He's a demon!
SQQ: Children can't help where they're born. Now if you'll excuse me, I have classes to teach.
First lesson of the day is SQH and SQQ are a package deal, take it or leave it. Second lesson is no canoodling with Shang Shibo until you've finished with lessons and chores for the day. Third lesson is if you see any Bai Zhan disciples hassling our peak's disciples you can break their swords. Just snap 'em in half. Throw them off the peak. Don't kill them, but do make them cry.
SQH, meanwhile, has now seen MBJ in an outer disciple uniform and had a whole bunch of new awakenings on top of all the other things he already knew about himself.
And, in a twist of dramatic irony... Qing Jing's first disciple to ever have demonic heritage decides the dorms are a no-go after one night because, to him, they are broiling hot, how can anyone sleep in this heat, and chooses to go sleep in the wood shed instead.
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ocean-sunfish-hater · 7 months ago
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Dog Democracy
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ID: Three African Painted Dogs facing the camera, holding the same stick. They have not a single thought between them. The dogs are mottled black, white and a pale brown/yellow. They have large ears.
Group decision making in the animal kingdom is always really funny to me, because there's so many surprising ways in which it's implemented.
Painted Dogs (aka African Wild Dogs akaka Cape hunting dogs) operate on a semi-democratic system when it comes to deciding when to go on an adventure (excursion). Unfortunately they don't have voting centres or ballot papers, mostly because they don't have opposable thumbs so holding a pen would be really hard.
Instead, they sneeze! If a quorum is reached within the group, they will depart to complete the task they need, which can range from hunting to exploring new territory. Much like human democracies, they're not quite equal: those individuals with higher social standing carry a greater weight in the vote, and thus a few high ranking sneezes are sufficient for a quorum, vs many inferior sneezes.
So Fuck Pericles, Fuck Athens, give credit where it's due, dogs had democracy long before humans did.
If you are in the UK and above the age of 18, don't forget to REGISTER TO VOTE IN THE GENERAL ELECTION by the 18th of June! It is our civic duty to beat the everloving neoliberal shit out of The Tories and The Tories Lite.
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artethyst · 8 months ago
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~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~
Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister!Reader/OC
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₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
“Remind me again why we are here?” Eris grumbled, signature frown plastered upon his unamused face.
“Because,” you enunciated, turning you attention to the babbling bundle secured in your Mate’s arms, his innocent eyes drinking up the frosty scenery around him in awe. “Just look at how happy he is!”
As if to further your argument, little Silas appeared squeal in agreement, his tiny legs kicking in glee as the High Lord carefully adjusted his hold on his delighted son- the boy’s excitable wriggling sending his already paranoid heart racing.
He thought he looked ridiculous.
Togged up in Winter attire- even though he could regulate his own temperature, you had insisted he don the furs of the Court you had travelled to as it would be “courteous”.
You thought he looked adorable.
His pale cheeks flushed, the rosiness only serving to bring attention to the delicate spattering of freckles across his tall nose- the fluffy material over his ears.
“My son looks absurd.”
“Our son looks absolutely darling!”
The boy in question too was swaddled, though instead in a mini snowsuit- little tufts of his red curls peeking from the soft fur that lined his puffy hood.
If he was squishable before, he was absolutely coddle worthy now.
His grabby hands were warm as ever, being unable to regulate his powers so young, the familiar heart emanating from his small body was a welcome comfort in Kallias’ court.
At first you were worried he was overheating, absolutely terrifying Eris one night when you shook him awake, frantic and near tears over the sleeping babe who was content as could be- his father’s curls wild with sleep and chubby cheeks flushed in innocent delight.
“Eris he’s burning up!” You were hanging off your groggy husband’s bicep in terror, watching his tired face meld into one of exasperation as you both were comically peering over the babe. “I-I think he has a fever- we must get the Healer-”
“My Love,” he let out, a tired smile on his wearied face, “it is normal for an Autumn babe. Ask my mother, it was the same for me as was with all of my brothers.”
“But-“
“Darling, he is fine,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple whilst securing his hand around your waist, his other moving to hover over the baby’s rosy cheeks, absorbing some of the heat so his little face became a complexion your heart could handle. “See?”
You sighed, your thumb coming to skin over the perfect cheek of your infant, not wanting to leave him.
“Can…Can we have him in our room?”
Eris sighed, unable to prevent a tender half smile gracing his features.
“I thought we agreed with the Healers that it was best for him to remain in his own chambers, hmmm?”
You huffed, pouting up at your husband with those twinkling violet eyes he had never once had the strength to deny.
“I am High Lady am I not? I can do as a like.” You stuck your nose in the air as Eris chuckled lowly, careful to not disturb the cooing babe who gently stirred in his cot, with an attitude he could only compare to your brother’s.
“If it will settle your ridiculous fears, My Star, I will bring him to our chambers.”
“You’re only saying that because you wish to go to back sleep.”
“Who am I to argue with my High Lady, hmm?”
That seemed like so long ago, the babe in question now able to babble in almost intelligible sentences and hold up the weight of his own head.
“Viviane and Kallias are our friends-“
“Your friends. Frankly, I would much rather-“
“High Lord. High Lady.” Eris was cut off by a warm voice- starkly opposed to his icy appearance. Kallias’ strong hand was mirthfully brought to Eris’, who shook it back with a mirroring fervour despite his earlier words.
You had to fight back a laugh, struggling to ignore the vexation he was hurtling down the bond.
Behave, you spoke into his mind, you should be grateful they invited such a grumpy Firehead as you into their home.
You didn’t have to look back at your husband to know he had rolled his eyes, adjusting Silas on his hip as he begrudgingly followed Kallias, an undeniable ghost of smile on his downturned lips as his son began cooing in awe at the glimmering structure they were entering.
“Dada!” He grinned, his little dimple pulling Eris from his mood, “brrrr!” A chubby finger pointed at the glacial carvings as he mimicked the noise you had been teaching him to help learn the seasons.
“Yes Silas, very clever. It is indeed cold.” Eris pressed a light kiss to Silas’ head, causing the babe to giggle, the noise a welcome salvation to the High Lord.
“Brrr!Brrr!”
“Precisely why I wanted to stay in Autumn…” Eris mumbled, agreeing with his son continued to note how freezing the temperature was.
“Brrr!”
At the sweet sound, you smiled back at the pair, pausing your conversation with Kallias to look upon your favourite boys, so alike in appearance it was sometimes scary.
“He wants you to say it,” you watched as the older male’s face contorted, perhaps finally understanding why his son kept repeating the noise. “He likes it when you copy him.”
“Brrr!” The boy said again, his wide eyes hopeful as he stared up at his father who, if anyone, could never deny his son.
“Yes Silas…Brrrr.” Eris relented, his voice notably dropping in volume as he made the noise, refusing to look you in the eye as you gave the other High Lord a wicked grin.
“You were not wrong High Lady,” Kallias smiled, “the High Lord of Autumn truly is powerless when it comes to his family.”
~
After a lengthy stroll around the grounds, you all joined Viviane in the drawing room. She squealed and brought you into a vivacious embrace, words tumbling from her mouth before you’d even had the chance to remove yourself from her iron grip.
“Oh I have missed you so! I have so much to tell you-“ it was then she let out a soft gasp, spotting Silas squirming in Eris’ arms. “Oh my! He has gotten so big!” She cried, moving to swoop him from Eris’ arms who you noticed was especially reluctant to hand him over.
You had noted that he had become increasingly territorial and protective over his son since his birth, at first thinking it was only because there had been a chance he was going to die, but even after Madja had saved him- you both, his worries had only grown.
You knew why.
Even if he never admitted it out loud. That despite everything- all his efforts to undo the suffering his father had caused, he still had many enemies.
Enemies that would love nothing more than to hurt him by taking away the things he loved most.
Silas frowned as he was transferred into the loud woman’s arms, his father’s infamous frown plastered ridiculously on his teeny tiny face.
Viviane attempted to make him smile, bouncing him on her hip and giving his little freckled cheek a gentle, cool peck.
“Do not mind him Vi,” you teased, finding your place in Eris’ free arms as he secured you against his chest immediately out of habit. “He has inherited more than just his looks from his father.”
And your words appeared to have a double meaning when your son’s grumpiness fell apart just as quickly as Viviane could coax it out of him with extra cuddles- just like The Lady of Autumn had assured you her own son had been a complete softie for at that age.
~
Eris payed little attention to the words Kallias was spewing- a proposed trade agreement that would be advantageous for both sides involved. He was far more focused on the glass of alcohol that was rather difficult to source in Autumn, hoping to be done sooner rather than later so he could spend some time with you and Silas without politics looming over his already troubled mind.
He took a small swig from his goblet, relaxing as the liquid warmed his throat, his slender hand coming to skim against his jaw as he read over the papers he had been presented with.
“You are lucky Eris,” Kallias spoke with honesty, causing the auburn haired male to look up at him and follow the other male’s eye-line to the grand window which displayed the winter gardens below where the two females and young boy were playing. “I remember a time where many High Lords- myself included, would have done anything for the Princess’ hand.”
Though a harmless comment, it made Eris’ blood boil. His possessiveness never once dwindling since the bond had first snapped for him all those centuries ago.
“I know.” Was all he replied, a smugness to his tone which complimented his signature smirk which did not fail to falter his façade. “I am a very lucky male indeed.”
“Years ago my wife told me she wished she possessed the kind of love you both do,” his tone was wistful as he watched his own mate with a biting fondness in his eye. “A passionate, suffocating kind of bond. One I was once afraid might melt a heart such as mine.”
“Careful, High Lord,” Eris’ smirk grew, “from experience, I must advise you. It is never wise to deny a lady’s desires.”
Kallias laughed, removing his gaze from Viviane who was making delicate snowflakes and sending them gently whirring against Silas’ button nose which had turned pink from the cold.
“We are trying for one ourselves…” Eris interpreted from his tone that it was a difficult subject, Fae pregnancies were rare and testing, even without the stresses of ruling a Court. “We can only hope they will be as much as a blessing as young Silas.”
It was Eris’ turn to become wistful then, focusing on his own Mate, even from afar catching the charming blush atop her fresh complexion as she twirled about the snow with their son.
Their son.
A phrase he had never thought he’d have the pleasure of saying.
“You are a steadfast man, Kallias. Your wife brings so much joy to my own I can only begin to imagine what a delight your offspring would bring her.”
Kallias knew that was as close as any compliment he could wrangle from the man, so clasped him on the shoulder with a heartfelt nod as Eris moved beside him, freshly signed papers left on the desk as they both stared at their entire worlds.
Eris knew, in that moment, watching as his son waddled across the pale terrain to his mother, who crouched down with awaiting arms, the expression he loved most written all over her breathtaking face, that there was nothing worth living for, if not them.
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dragongirlpoet · 4 months ago
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Dark Signs
Pt II I Pt III
Alucard x you
Summary: A flirty, playful night with Adrian takes a dark turn.
TW: Dark fantasy, horror, blood, smut (explicit) 🔞 I Words: 1.6k
This is my first fic & attempt at smut. I hope you enjoy it!
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“…And there, in the dead of night, under a moon so maroon, the White Wolf prowled — ravenous. Sturdy were its footsteps, calculated were its gait. Ahead, still as a rosebud in a windless twilight, its prey lay splayed out — helpless. 
Something about its small intakes of breath, its unsuspecting demeanour, made it all the more enticing for the imposing predator. Ever so slowly, the White Wolf, eyes like the golden gleam of a rising dawn, emerged from the thicket, pressing forward, inching closer, closer, closer…”
Body hovering over mine, Alucard’s words were a rasp above my cheek. The antiquated tome he had been reading from now a forgotten humdrum between our bodies. As velvet lips collided into me, I melded into his being. He was a hypnotic wave crashing into shore, and I was but delicate driftwood being dragged underwater.
His kiss was insistent, impatient. I had no escape, no cavity of air to quell the lack of oxygen in my lungs. Still, I kept going, because he was the only breath I needed. My fingers clawed ruthlessly at his back — muscle and bone Herculean from years of battling night creatures and evil forces. Skin so utterly cold, yet I wanted — needed — more.  
His body was a frigid storm to my fervent summer. “You are glorious as the solstice sun, darling. With you I am forever warm, within you I live eternally,” the confession falling easy from his lips the day he had taught me how to hunt.
Faces lost in each other, bodies entwined and limbs tugging like our lives depended on it, Alucard let his hand roam under my nightdress, finally finding solace in the swell of my chest. I shifted slightly at the unusual chill. Was he ever this cold?
Over the months I had become accustomed to his half human intricacies. His unnerving stillness, his undeniable thirst for blood try as he might to hide it, his erratic need to stay up nights in a row roaming the castle “just to be sure…” 
I was no fool. Those witching hours almost always had him back in his childhood room — he would stare, as if entranced, at the spot he had staked his father. And I would see the grief in his eyes — the absolute contrition at his travesty, one he wished he could take back, but couldn’t. 
Alucard, the son of the great Dracula and benevolent Lisa Tepes, the almighty dhampir. A being so beautiful he could bring a kingdom to its knees, yet one so cruelly tormented by his past.
“Baby, eyes on me.” My eyes fluttered open, realising I was lost in the wrong moment. He crashed his lips into mine once again. 
As if in a bid to stop my obsessive thinking, he started to grab at my breast, kneading furiously, thumb toying with my nipple. I leaned in closer, but alas my human endurance had reached its limits and I pulled away for air. 
“I want to know what happened to the prey. I am most opposed to unfinished stories,” I tried to play coy in between ragged breaths. Nose to mine, he wore a smirk on his handsome face. He had a playful glint to his stare — contemplative, as if taunting me to continue with my officious fib. 
Alucard picked the tome up from my stomach, grazing his fingers ever so slightly over my abdomen. He trailed the book slowly down my navel, its cracked spine against my bare skin sent fireworks to my core. I watched with bated breath as the print finally landed where he wanted it — in between my legs. He dragged its spine down, then up again, repeating the motion, teasing, eyes never leaving mine. 
Satisfied with how wet my undergarment had become, he hushed, “I think it better if I showed you instead. Don’t you agree, princess?” 
“Ye..yesss,” 
“Do you like that?”
“Yesss…”
“Open your legs wider.”
I obeyed. Submitting to him was easy. Too easy.
“Let’s see just how wet you are for me, hmm?” 
Without warning, Alucard ripped my soaking cloth off my hips and plunged two fingers inside. I cried out at the shock and how good it felt, and as if by instinct grabbed his hands and guided them deeper into me. Alucard let out a stifled moan at my brazenness, his erection growing fast under his black britches.
He watched with eyes half-lidded, completely spellbound as I bounced into his hand, my breasts rising and falling with every thrust. Body and mind so turned on he reached urgently into his pants and started stroking his length. 
For a long moment we just sat there, eyes locked on each other, legs spread wide, our sex stimulated. And what a profane sight it must have been for our bed chamber was filled with nothing but wanton “fucks” and the squelching of his fingers coated in my lust. 
I fucked myself into his fingers harder, and reached desperately for his cock. With more force than necessary, he caught both my wrists with his free hand and pinned them to my stomach. “That’s for later,” he chided. 
Alucard was usually wary of his inhuman strength around me. But tonight, tonight he was carnal, rough, like an animal being let out of its cage. His knuckles went white with how much pressure he had put on my wrists, and I bit my lip knowing it was going to bruise. 
As if to edge me further, Alucard pulled his fingers out and gazed at them ever so intently, admiring the slather of fluid glistening like diamonds on his digits. If his etherealness hadn’t killed me, then perhaps what he did next would have driven me close to death. With deliberate calm, he brought his fingers into his mouth, swiping his tongue over my juices, savouring every single trickle.
My dhampir, hair like a divine cascade of golden waterfalls, on his knees, drinking my lust as if it were vital sustenance, yet all that he was was in direct contrast to his reverence — powerful, dominant and deadly. I marvelled at his masculine elegance — the way his pectorals tensed as he licked his fingers dry, how his faded sanguine scar stood distinct against his alabaster skin, the definition of muscles that ran down his pelvis…
I swallowed. 
“God, you taste so good. Only for me, yes?” 
“Yesss…” Being thoroughly educated and well-read, I was fairly ashamed it was all the vocabulary I could muster.
And it would seem that more crude words were soon to follow, as Alucard then dove in between my thighs and sent his tongue plunging — deep, depraved — into my clenching walls.  
“Fuuuck, Adrian!” 
Hearing his name sent him over the edge, and he started sucking hard — wet pillow lips against wet pillow flesh. I was heaven and hell collided, rising from it like the luminescent birth of a star. I ground my core into his face, hands grasping his woven-gold hair, willing him to dive further into me. 
Alucard groaned in pleasure against my clit. Powerful, cold hands gripped my thighs apart, and my sweet lover lay soft kisses to the insides, thumbs expertly caressing my sensitive folds. In all his vampire glory, he bared his fangs ever so slightly, sharp teeth just barely peeking through, grazing them over my clit and thighs, nibbling, never breaking skin. I was undone. 
“Adrian…Adrian please…”
“Please what?”
I was all heavy pants and delirious to give a coherent reply.
Head still positioned at the apex of my thighs, his eyes raked over his masterpiece — delicate features coated in sweat, nipples hard from stimulation and the soppy, pulsating cunt laid out like a feast inches from his mouth. What a mess he had made of me, and a mess he was most certainly proud of. 
From in between my legs, Adrian was a fallen angel from a paradise unknown. His eyes like gold afire were so wholly glazed over they looked like one with the smouldering flames nestled atop our chamber candles. 
Patience waning, he asked again. “Please…” humming the words into my clit…“what?” A loud moan escaped my lips. I arched my back in sheer pleasure, feeling the build up in my core.
He dragged his fangs against my thighs, eyes fixated on mine, drinking in my desire. 
“I want…I want…” my chest heaving so violently from how close I was to release.
“What do you want?” Adrian moved to whisper against my ear. This was too much. 
“I want…I want you to turn me.”
Alucard went very still, his pupils blown wide. Everything went very still. The flames lost its dance, the curtains absent of sway.
“What did you say?” His voice was still water with undercurrents of danger. 
His statuesque figure towered over me, pinning me under. 
“I said, I want you to turn me.” 
Alucard held my stare, and as I took them in, an unearthly shadow seemed to lurk beneath those incandescent irises. 
If my question threw him off guard, his unsettling stillness made it clear he wasn’t most fond of surprises. It took a long moment before he finally moved, his supernatural speed having him by the window in seconds. 
Frustration soon shrouded my orgasmic high. I forced my spent body off the reprieve of our mattress. He was going to answer me whether he liked it or not.
“Adrian! You cannot disregard my question any longer! I’ve wanted this from the first time you made love to me, don’t pretend it was never asked of you,” exasperation evident in my tone.
“Peril or not, I am not afraid. I…”
A sudden squall of wind extinguished the flickering flames. Our bed chamber was plunged into chasmic darkness, summoning a bitter chill that seeped through the wooden floors. There, still as a predator hunting prey, hovered the glowing golden orbs of Alucard's eyes, the blacks of his pupils far wider than I’d ever seen. 
“A…Adrian?” 
Pt II I Pt III
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passionateseadruid · 1 month ago
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That time Lucifer turned his best friend into a duck
Cw:slight Yandere elements
Lucifer sat on his thrown with a big yellow duck on his lap.
Yep, that's me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.
—+—
"Lucifer you need to get out of your workshop!" You tried to open the door to his workshop. He'd been in there for 4 days straight and everyone was starting to get worried! (It was more like just you and Charlie (and Vaggie because Vaggie cares about whatever Charlie cares about) but still, he had people who were worried sick about him)
"No! I'm fine! I just need to put the finishing touches on my tropical vacation duck  and I'll be right out!"
"You have said that every hour I came by! First it was cowboy duck, then it was bunny duck, then it was maid dress duck, and last time it was steampunk duck! What will it be next time? Maybe a Vaporeon duck or a witch duck?" You huff.
"OOOOH! Wait let me write that down!" He said excitedly
"LUCIFER!!" You groaned and struggled with the golden doorhandle.
"Come on, apple-tart! Just one more duck!" Lucifer begged.
You finally decided to try lock-picking the lock. "Sorry Duckie, but this is for your own good!"
"Wait! No! Please! I'll do anything! Just let me make one more duck!"
You finally heard the lock click and the door handle finally turned. You opened the door as Lucifer screamed and a gold light came at you faster than you could react. When your vision came back you were standing only a foot off the ground, the world towered before you.
Lucifer... WHY AM I SHORTER THAN YOU!
You said in your mind but all that came out was "Quack! Quack Quack!"
"Well um... is that really important? The important thing is that I'm not the shortest person in the room for once!"
Ugh... of course you understand duck.
"Wait! How'd you know you're a duck now?"
It's kinda obvious. I mean, what other animal quacks?
"oh… well shit.”
Lucifer! I don't want to be a duck!
"But you're so cute as a duck." He stuck his bottom lip out and pouted.
Don't you dare do that! You know I can't say no to you when you look so sad.
"I'm just saying… a real best friend would do whatever it takes to make me happy…"
That's incredible manipulative and hypocritical! As my best friend you should respect my wish to not be a duck!
"But…" He tried to think of some way to persuade you. "If… if you were a duck, I’d pamper you… and then we’d both have our needs taken care of!"
You promise that if I let you pamper me in duck form you’ll take care of yourself? You asked skeptically.
"I promise." He nodded, pride dripped in his voice.
…fine! I will stay a duck… BUT JUST FOR TODAY!! You’re turning me back tomorrow!
Lucifer squealed in delight and scooped you up to hold you in his arms. It sucks being shorter than Lucifer.
—+—
At first he was just cuddling you and brushing out your feathers.
Lucifer... how is this helping either of us?
"It's making you look pretty, and in turn that bolsters my reputation." He said proudly.
WHAT REPUTATION? YOU'RE A HERMIT! YOU NEVER LEAVE THE PALACE UNLESS CHARLIE INVITES YOU OVER!
"Shh... apple pie, just let me have this. It feels good doesn't it?"
...
"Apple pie?"
I plead the fifth.
—+—
Next it was feeding you.
"Here!" He feed you grape by individual grape.
Lucifer, you don't need to feed me by hand. I may not have opposable thumbs anymore but that doesn't mean that I'm a helpless baby.
"I know, but I'm pampering you! You promised that I could pamper you." He booped your beak.
I suppose I did...
"Good, now shut up." He pushed one more grape into your mouth
You are eating yourself right?
"Of course! Two for you... and one for me." He popped a grape in his mouth and scritched under your chin.
ahhhh... You quacked purred in delight.
You looked up to see Lucifer had the most smug look on his face. "See? I knew you enjoyed being my pet~"
The double entendre was not lost on you. You were so glad that you were a duck right now so Lucifer couldn't see how absolutely flustered you were.
You stepped on a grape, spraying it's juices all over you. What a shame. Guess we have to put this little conversation on hold while you bathe me.
He smirked like he just won the argument. "You're not exactly helping your case." He teased.
Just get the bubbles going...
—+—
Then it was bathing you.
He starts to take off his vest and unbutton his shirt.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
"What does it look like I'm doing? I don't want to get my clothes wet." He rolled his eyes.
B-but... why do you need to be shirtless?! Don't you have a tank top or a robe or something to put on?!
His smirk became devious. "Do I make you... nervous?"
Please don't be weird while I'm in a duck body
"Good point." He picked you up and dropped you over the tub. "Now let's get that purple out of your beautiful feathers, shall we?"
Mhm! You smiled and leaned into his hands. His charcoal hands were softer than expected. His fingers were tender as they worked the shampoo through your soft, delicate, yellow feathers. Maybe being a duck wasn't so bad. Maybe being his pet wasn't so bad.
—+—
So that's basically how you got here. Wrapped in a towel, in Lucifers lap (while he sat above the residents of hell on his throne), as he pet you again.
Duckie... 'm tired...
"You're tired apple pie?" He smiled softly at you.
mhm...
"wanna go to bed?" He offered and walked toward his room
Want you to hold me too... you need your sleep...
He laughed. "I know, apple pie. I know."
You promise you'll stay with me?
"I promise." He laid down with you on his chest.
—+—
The next morning he woke up before you did...
And he saw you back in your normal form... but instead of the clothes you were in when you were turned...
you were in nothing more than a feather silk robe...
"Oh golly..." His face turned into a beautiful gold hue.
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fuctacles · 1 month ago
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<< 10 | - | 12 >>
Robin finds them sprawled on the grass, resting after their play break. Steve notices her first, his head raising and tail wagging excitedly, though he doesn't move from his spot warming Eddie's thigh. 
"Steve?" 
That's when his friend realizes what got him so excited and he waves to Robin as she spots them in the middle of the yard. Their eyes meet and he knows she's surprised to see Steve in his other form again, but she doesn't say anything. Their werewolf friend yips happily and stands up, away from Eddie's petting to greet his best friend. 
"Hello, Buckley."
"Hello, Munson." She puts her hands on her hips in a perfect mirror of Steve. "I see you two are hard at work?" Robin quickly folds when Steve sits at her feet, his tail moving so fast it is barely visible. She squats down to scratch around his ears. "Hi, dingus."
"Exactly, and we're taking a well-deserved break right now," Eddie says with a smile, sitting up. "The barbeque is out and cleaned up, and we're almost done with the pool and chairs," he sums up their work so far, pointing vaguely to where everything is. 
"Damn, it's like you don't need me at all, huh?" she asks mostly towards Steve with a tilt of her head. He nibs at her fingers in retaliation before trotting away. "Hey, I was joking!"
But Steve picks up the ball still lying next to Eddie's leg and brings it back to Robin. She looks at him in confusion, so Eddie quickly swoops in with an explanation.
"We were playing fetch!"
The yellow, damp ball falls away from Steve's mouth like he might have just gotten self-conscious about the thing. But Robin takes it in stride, grabbing the toy and straightening up. Her friend quickly forgets his inhibitions and straightens up, hyperfocused on her raised hand. 
"Fair warning, I'm not the best thrower. But I guess I can't be much worse than Munson."
"Hey!"
She proves her words seconds later when the ball barely misses his head and Steve jumps right over his body, making him yelp. 
"Jesus H Christ you two!" he yells at them, but is genuinely happy for his friend enjoying his dog form without second guessing himself. 
He idly picks at the grass, observing them and dodging Buckley's shitty aim, wondering how he would feel if he could shift to a creature loved by everyone and with simple needs and ways to express himself. It sounds freeing, but he likes too many things his opposable thumbs can do, like playing the guitar, petting a dog, or playing fetch. 
Does Steve have things he needs his thumbs for? Is he still playing basketball? Maybe Eddie could teach him the guitar. Or Maybe Steve just needs a healthy balance between human and animal treatment. 
Eddie is so preoccupied with his thoughts, that the next ball Buckley throws boinks right off the side of his head. 
Steve skids to a stop in front of him, eyeing the skittering ball like prey, but in the end, jumps up to Eddie and starts licking at the sore spot, while Buckley yells her apologies in the background. 
"Okay, okay, I'll live! It's just a flesh wound!" he laughs, while Steve's hot tongue is ruining his already questionable fringe. The dog boops his cheek with a cold nose and goes to pick up the ball. Eddie takes it as his clue to stand up and fix himself up a bit.
"It pains me to say it, but I guess it's our sign to get back to work," he sighs, dusting off his knees. Steve shows up next to him, eyes huge and the ball between his teeth. "Nuh-uh, man, we can play more later. We gotta finish the yard today so we only have the food to worry about tomorrow."
Steve huffs, the ball falling from his mouth with a sad thump, but he walks away towards the house, bumping Robin's leg on his way to the back door. While he disappears inside, Eddie jogs up to her. 
"Hey," he says again. "I'm trying to help Steve out of his funk." 
Robin raises her eyebrows. 
"How?" she crosses her arms. 
He suddenly feels uneasy, shifting his weight while trying to give his theories and plans shape. There's no one better to talk it out with than Stev's best friend, so he pushes through. 
"Well, he likes how we treat the dog-him, so I think we should treat him more like that on a daily basis. You know, scratches, praises, and shit," he looks up at Buckley hoping he doesn't sound completely insane. "So he likes being human a bit more."
She hums, glancing back at the house.
"You're right," Robin says to his surprise. It's not something he hears often. "Though I think it works best with you."
"What do you mean?" he asks with a frown. 
But she waves him off, turning to where Steve is emerging through the back door wearing loose sweatpants and with his hairy chest on display. 
"Robs!" he greets his friend with a grin, gathering her for a side hug that quickly turns into a friendly chokehold. 
Eddie hopes Buckley can sense his menacing glare despite their roughhousing.
Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot
@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1
@stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible
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icallhimjoey · 3 months ago
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supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!
we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K
---
Only Have Eyes For You
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(read Ground Rules here)
Joe has yet to stop staring at her.
It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.
New.
“Will you keep an eye on her?”
“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”
It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.
It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.
He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.
Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   
He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.
Her perfect little face.
Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.
Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.
The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.
It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.
Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.
“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.
“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”
“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.
“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.
“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.
“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.
“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”
It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.
Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.
Which actually made a lot of sense to you.
It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.
Hence why it had become a running joke.
One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.
When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.
Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”
“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.
“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.
“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”
“You think so?”
“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”
That had made you burst into actual sobs.
The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.
You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.
Or how tired he felt.
He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.
“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 
And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.
There’s a baby next to your bed.
The one he watched you gave birth to.
Your baby.
His baby.
He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.
Life is ridiculous.
He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.
When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.
He freezes.
Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.
After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.
Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.
He’d listened.
Knew better than to tell you no.
But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.
You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?
Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.
But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.
He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.
“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”
“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.
“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.
With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”
“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”
“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”
“I’ll go get someone.”
“Please.”
Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.
“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”
The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.
It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.
Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.
He can’t get over how you’ve made this.
Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.
The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.
Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”
Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.
“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.
You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.
He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”
You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.
“Six weeks before sex, right?”
You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”
“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.
Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.
You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.
God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.
You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.
“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”
You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.
You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.
Your baby.
You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.
You can both just watch her.
“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”
The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.
You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.
“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.
“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.
“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”
“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.
“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.
“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.
“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.
Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.
After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.
His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.
It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.
And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.
Finds he can’t stop staring.
“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.
“I’ll keep an eye.”
---
The Taglisted
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quark-nova · 2 years ago
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Frogs also have none of the things you described and they're still super freaking cool
I know this sounds kind of weird but you know I've always found the physical human body quite boring compared to the rest of the animal kingdom….
We have no fur, no scales, no feathers or wings,no fins, no tails, our teeth are very poor at being well teeth, we have nails instead of claws or talons and just why did evolution leave all of those things out for such a "plain" looking creature?
I mean, on the one hand, we're boring because of those things, but also because we're used to ourselves. It's not really a completely fair comparison. Of course we're boring to ourselves! There are tons of weird stuff about people. For one thing, we keep our boobs all the time instead of just when we're actively breastfeeding, and that's pretty dang rad.
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angelesca · 1 month ago
Text
𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥
☽˚.⋆ “𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐦?” ☽˚.⋆ make a deal with the devil, and pay the price w.c. ¬700 // content: devil!sunday x gn!reader, pseudo-marriage(?), blood, vague violence (but includes "slit neck"), sunday is kinda dominant here, a teeeny smidge of "enemies-lovers"
𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬. it is unforgiving; it slices and splits the latitude of its white canvas. wounds along the roof gape open, sunlight bleeding through the lacerations. it gleams atop the rouge galore. you sink to your knees, weak.
you beg with yourself desperately, to restrain the morbid curiosity and force your eyes anywhere but the sinister that lurked below. by your knees were bodies you used to know. 
“a deal… but only the devil makes deals.”  you replay the conversation only minutes ago.
the man sat on the altar, folding one leg over the other. his lips curved amusedly, “is that so?” 
your mouth contorts into unreadable shapes, imitating the phantoms of words, “you… r–really did it,” your lips quiver. 
red blood freezes solid blue in your veins. all that you have left to offer is cold flesh.
“i have rid of your enemies, foes, all that dared to oppose you. this was my end of the negotiation. and now, i will have you grant your half of the deal.”
peering at malice personified, you wonder how this was fair? his appearance is as chaste as angels, but his words bare its blade, threatening your neck and piercing skin. you have nothing to protect yourself with, but hands calloused with prayers, gripping the sword at bay as you attempt to intimidate him with a sharp stare – a weapon of your own. what else could you do but fight for your life? 
the devil pushes himself off the altar table, each step sinking into the blood from the bodies he reaped. he paid less than a penny to the thought of the mutilated corpses. they were nothing but meagre pests, their remains rotting like disease on his shoes.
he stares down at you from his standing position. his shadow dominates over your body, eyes watching. lifting your chin, he inspects the quality of his novel toy.
you meet his eyes, a quiet whisper, “what do you want with me…?”
“you know that already, don’t you?” his silvery tongue is honed with venom, fingers slithering along your jaw. the serpent coils himself around you.
you pay it no mind, competing with his stare. 
he smirks, eyes rolling in disbelief. perhaps this toy is faulty. “you accepted the terms of our deal. is your revenge not satisfactory?”
the harsh texture of his gloves play with the softness of your skin, tracing the length of your neck.
you grit your teeth. there is no escaping; the contract establishes your soul under his submission.
“fine.” you decide to pay the price. “it is only fair…” your voice trails off, mouth trapped in static.
those golden eyes of his are darkly vampiric, syphoning your determination which fuels him. you are his livestock, hooked upside down with a slit neck, dripping blood into his mouth. a chill runs down your spine. 
he crouches in front of you, hand cradling your cheek as his thumb wipes away your pearling sweat. he hums, “good.” the sun praises him with golden radiance, his glorious halo reigning high over his head like a crown. he rules over you, commands you. completely, entirely, and wholly his.
“say my name.” and seal your fate.
the atmosphere constricts– sudden– your breathing. hitches. heavy air… lack of oxygen… his eyes orbit your features, glimpsing into your universe, observing you inside out. you choke out the name that is forced roughly in your throat: “... sun…day…” 
“do you pledge to be mine?” sunday kisses your ring finger, the weight of commitment encircling it, locking eyes with you to ensure that you witness the officiating. you are his, but he is not yours. 
the exhange of vows, a finality which binds your life to his. this must be his sick idea of a marriage, but you do not sense his earnestness. it is more akin to a predator playing with his food before consuming it.
your jaw clenches, gaining back your breath as you entertain his fantasy, “... i do.”
“yet, you look like you want me dead.” sunday nuzzles into your neck, hiding a smirk. “my spouse is quite charming, hm?”
a/n: originally this was nsfw *bonk* but it felt awkward as i built up the plot so i removed it lol. if anyone wants, i can post it as an extra part on my ao3?^^ if the ending feels rushed, it's because it's 3am for me and im tired ahaha thanks for reading!🐕
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