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#know the method of worship
sporesgalaxy · 9 months
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went to my old church on xmas eve and im still reeling that the pastor discussed the human authors' intent of the gospels so much. like actually talked about it as a book trying to convey a unified philosophy and not a series of #relatable life lessons straight from the Big Man Himself (<- my experience in many a methodist church my mom took us to). i know said pastor is the exact reason i managed to be shocklingly normal despite how obsessed I was with the Bible as a kid but it still surprises me every time i'm reminded cause I got so used to the alternative. also baffled that said old church is classified as protestant and yet they have you pinky promise via scripted chant thingy that you believe that only episcopal and catholic teachings are valid. like hey wait a second..... isnt that who you were protestanting against....... 🤨
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gingermintpepper · 29 days
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Absolutely the funniest thing about my current corner of tumblr is that pretty much everyone I've recently followed for Apollo-Appreciating Purposes are either genuinely Hellenist or just rather very into Rick Riordan's Trials of Apollo series which is wild because I know a net zero about both of those things.
#I've never been interested in Riordan's work and the Percy Jackson books I did read as a young lad didn't change my mind on that topic#Growing up I preferred a very one or the other method for my greek adaptational content#which essentially means either you're a play or an adaptation of a legit story or myth with recogniseable figures and plotpoints#or you're an original story with mythical elements but the myths and the adaptations and interpretations of those myths is secondary#Percy Jackson did both and it was very disorienting for me because the books were well grounded enough that when I came into contact#with some element I didn't recognise or couldn't remember I myself would get confused and go “Is that true? like really?? :0c”#Then I ran a library book club and Percy Jackson books were p much all the kids wanted to read#but they rejected all of my supplementary greek myth exercises and got a lot of stuff mixed around#because percy jackson does a rather good job of making a convincing argument that it knows its stuff and people will quicker cite that#than do readings of the much more difficult older texts and translations of text#It's not Percy Jackson's fault it's just a bad experience that stuck with me and by extension leaked over into Trials of Apollo when that#was released#Trials of Apollo was crazy because I generally make it my business to consume any and all greek myth interpretational media that bothers#to include Apollo (there is a shockingly low amount of things that do that)#however a LOT of novels especially never let Apollo retain the dignity of a god in their portrayals of him#and have him resemble a teenager more than anything even remotely close to an adult#I had just gotten finished reading a novel adaptation of the story of Coronis and Apollo with this same issue#so when I opened the first volume of ToA and saw that Apollo simply genuinely WAS a teenager#Frankly I just closed the book and put it back on the bookstore shelf and very calmly walked away LMFAO#I have nothing to say about Hellenists and neo hellenists y'all seem like wonderful people and I hope#you have a lovely time with your e-offerings and worship#unless you are my single personal friend with Apollo as your patron#then I wish you 1000 woes and 10000 divine brain blasts#toa#pjo#ginger rambles
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athalantan · 4 months
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I hate to say it but the Weave really is the optimal source of magic. It’s not the only source, as Myst.ran propaganda has led many to believe, but what’s not propaganda are the pros of using it.
It’s reliable for one. When you cast a spell correctly, you can always expect it to turn out the same way. The only determiner is your own skill. This also makes teaching easier.
It’s relatively safe for another. Yes, magic is dangerous, but all that happens when you fuck up a spell is it fails. It’s not like you mispronounce the incantation and it blows up in your face. Now experimenting with magic is another matter. That can get explosive — but there are certain safeguards you can put in place. And once you have it perfected, it becomes reliable.
The greatest benefit is probably the amount of magic you’re able to mix. Magic can be categorized into schools, but there’s nothing stopping you from casting from multiple schools. You can mix and match and stack and tether to your heart’s delight. Yeah you might get more than you bargain for, but the spells themselves won’t become volatile or fail.
When you draw from other sources, you are limited to what that one source can supply. There’s no guarantee spells will turn out the same every time regardless of how you cast. Spells are also likely to become dangerous, at least unpredictable, if you make an error in casting, and they’re likely to be volatile when mixed with spells of other types. You’re really taking your fate into your own hands. This likewise complicates teaching. All-in-all, you aren’t limited by a deity, but you aren’t protected by one either.
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sunilkumarsln · 10 months
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pedgito · 3 months
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𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | Joel Miller x reader
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summary | a series of nights spent with a neighbor you find an unlikely connection with, sharing a similar interest to pass the time, it forms into something much more intense and suddenly, neither of you can deny it anymore.
content warning | no outbreak!joel, f!reader that is mentioned to have hair that can be pushed back but no exact length, descriptions of outfits, lots of w*ed smoking/consuming ed*bles, a quick mention of a burn, joel being a good neighbor, he's still the biggest girl dad, age gap implied but readers isn't specified, joel's not afraid to go for what he wants, most of the interactions happen while they're high so please keep that in mind when reading, lotsa boob worship, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, mentions of joel being sterile, strangers to friends to lovers. this was written over the course of a weekend don't look at me
word count — 8k
The first and only time you see him is when you’re moving in next door, trudging in the moving boxes on your own as he seems to ready up his own truck full of boxes, followed by two younger women who seem to be bickering at him and he bypasses them with a smug smile on his face—he’s older, so you came to your own assumption that it was probably his daughters. 
That’s all you know about him. 
Outside of the fact he drives a truck, works long hours, and that his name is Joel.
The girl with the begrudging smile and worn out converse called his name while you were throwing away your trash and trying to not seem like the nosey neighbor. 
He comes, he goes. The roar of his truck is all you hear and you never really see him outside of an occasional swish of his curtains through your own windows, but occasionally you leave your trash can out by the curb longer than necessary and it magically appears at the beginning of your driveway. 
Now, you don’t want to point fingers—but the only ones tucked away are his and your own, leaving the other neighbors to fend for themselves.
 It’s a simple gesture, kind.
You want to thank him but you never get the chance.
You’re curious if he’s a night owl—lights staying on even into the early hours of the morning, shadows crossing around his living room that you can see from your bedroom window, tossing and turning most nights as you struggle and struggle to fall asleep.
You’ve learned methods to help, plenty—if you ever remember to charge your vibrator it was usually your first choice, a quick release of some of the built up tension over the day and you could eventually find it easier to fall asleep. But, your tried and true method was weed. 
That was it. Sometimes you didn’t even need much—an edible to curb the anxiety that filled you, a puff or two at the pen you had stashed away in your bedside drawer, but most of the time it was occupying your mind with the work of rolling the joint before smoking it out your bedroom window that helped the best.
However, tonight was different.
You toss and turn and fling the blankets away that stick to your skin, the broken ceiling fan doing nothing to quell that muggy heat that was permeating in your house from earlier in the day—it just sat frozen, menacing and taunting at you. You search through the drawer at your bedside for the small tin case covered in stickers of various interests and things you enjoyed, kicking the sliding backdoor with your foot as you traveled through the living room to your kitchen and stepping out onto your back deck.
It’s still hot, but the breeze allows a noticeable difference.
You work quietly, hunched slightly over the railing and using the faint glow of the light hanging beside your backdoor, just finishing up rolling the joint as you bring it to your tongue and the distinct creak from the house next to you grabs your attention—the sliding door mimicking your own.
Your heart races and you don’t know why. It could be one of the girls, still strangers but somehow you find it easier to look that way if it was them—Joel was intimidating, the aura he carried within just a few seconds of a glance. 
It is him, unfortunately—and suddenly you feel the need to hide your stash, tossing the tin box in the cheap plastic chair you bought when you first moved in. Tucking yourself away as you light the joint and bring it to your lips.
He’s being surprisingly noisy, chair scuffing the deck as he moves it around and you look at him curiously from across the way, a fence and several feet of grass dividing you both. You can see the mug clutched in his right hand and his left hand filled with a few various things. A phone, for sure—lighting up in his hand before he lays it on the table beside him, lifting a leg over the lounge chair in a straddle-like motion before he sits down.
And he does seem like a smoker, not that you have proof or theory—it was just the vibe, but as he lights the item in his hand and takes a slow drag you quickly realize there's not an ounce of nicotine in sight. It’s clear when he catches your gaze and his brow furrows slightly, noting the similar item tucked between your own fingers and you can’t help but laugh to yourself.
You don’t say a word. Neither does he. But, he does offer a weak smile when you grab the tin box from the chair, nodding in acknowledgement. Your entire body flutters to life for some weird reason that you will absolutely blame on the THC obscuring rational thought. 
Thankfully, sleep comes easy after that.
But, it doesn’t stay that way.
Most of the time you stay tucked inside, especially on the days and nights when the heat wasn’t as ablaze as usual, but there is usually a day or two out of the week where you find yourself outside—sometimes you lounge, or pace, but it never fails that the moment you step foot outside your backdoor, Joel does too.
Once a week, rarely twice—though it does happen, both of you find yourself in quiet submission as you smoke and enjoy the peace, even with the constant click of crickets and lighting bugs that seem attracted to both of your houses, flying around your backyard in a small swarm.
And you wanted to keep your distance, not wanting to impose on his space but your two months into these unspoken nightly meetings when your cheap lighter finally decides to shit itself, offering nothing but dull sparks against your overworked thumb, trying and failing to light the end of the joint. 
Joel had been watching, an amused smile growing on his face as you cursed and tossed the lighter into your yard out of frustration—you’d grab it later, whatever. Eventually you sigh, giving up on it for the night and turning to pack away your stuff before Joel is calling over to you from his side of the fence, heart dropping into your stomach at the sound of his voice.
“I got a light,” He offers, “if you’re interested?”
It’s definitely a question. A proposition. An offering.
You scratch at your brow and hesitate for a millisecond, not giving yourself enough time to debate your answer before you’re mumbling “Fuck it,” and taking the path down the steps and to the gate that separated your yards, watching as he stepped toward you all in the same breath, feeling so much more intimidating this close—the smell of him, musky and sweet. His hair was wet, too.
He took a shower, got dressed, and immediately decided to step back out into the humid heat of Texas summer.
You pluck the lighter from his grip with a soft tug, flicking open the top. It was a good lighter, not the crappy three-pack you bought at the gas station down the road—it was chrome, engraved with a JM, and soft to the touch. You admire it for half a second before you attempt to light the end of your joint, still tucked between your lips. 
But, as fate would have it, you make a fool of yourself. It wasn’t that you couldn’t get it lit, but that the wind was being your worst enemy in a situation where you just wanted to smoke the goddamn joint and go to bed.
Joel puffs at the joint between his lips and breathes out the smoke through his nose before he huffs out a low laugh and nods in your direction, reaching his arms over the fence and beckoning with his fingers for you to hand the lighter back over. You nearly go cross-eyed as his hands come toward your face—much larger than your own and far better at keeping the flame strong, he peeks around his cupped palm and waits for the end to turn a bright orange before he pulls away and you eagerly pull the smoke into your lungs.
“Thank you,” You tell him, rubbing your bare feet into the grass beneath you, patchy and poorly cut from your own mow job, but you were working the best with what you had—even if it was an ancient lawn mower you snagged at a garage sale that only worked half of the time. 
You didn’t like to ask for help, hated it. But, here you were, taking help from a stranger.
Well, neighbor.
It didn’t feel fair to call him a stranger anymore, even if you’ve only spoken a little under ten words to him. 
“No problem, sugar,” Joel responds and your cheeks burn with heat, that distinct nervousness spreading throughout your body that couldn’t be mistaken with anything else, “curious, though—you ain’t ever thought about investin' in a good lighter?”
You shrug, tapping away the ash gently with your fingertip and taking another puff, “Why? My neighbor’s got a perfectly good one himself?”
Joel raises his brows in unison and smiles slightly, he laughs. It’s more of a lazy chuckle.
“I… have more. I just lose them a lot. Besides, they’re only like ten bucks a pack.” 
You’re waiting for him to cut the conversation short and walk back to his chair, but he finds himself leaning, arms tucked and crossed over the fence, oblivious to how daunting this felt to you—the man you’ve been so helplessly curious about for months suddenly standing in front of you and interested, unbothered…not at all what you expected from him.
“Thanks for constantly moving my trash bins,” You tell him randomly, blowing the smoke out through your lips as you tilt your chin up, “I always forget.”
Joel makes a face, wordlessly offering an “I know,” with his eyes and you roll yours in return, following it with a laugh as you pop a hip out slightly, leaning most of your weight onto one leg and crossing your arms over your chest, suddenly remembering how bare you were under your thin top, assuming you’ve probably already given him quite the show already.
Though, Joel seems like the type of man to be nice enough not to point it out. 
You perk up suddenly, asking the first thing that comes to mind.
"Can I ask a question?"
Joel nods.
“What’s the JM stand for? On your lighter.”
“Sweetheart,” The laugh shakes his entire chest, “come on now.”
From sugar to sweetheart—you were clearly making quite the impression on him. 
When you don’t respond he answers your question.
“Joel. Miller. I figured that was obvious,” He says, stubbing out the end of his joint into the wood on his side of the fence.
“Oh.”
“It’s on the mailbox.”
Curious, you leave him for a brief moment to slip through the side gate of your yard and….yeah, sure enough.
“I swear I’m not always like this,” You tell him as you make your way back over, forcing away the smile that was creeping its way onto your face.
“Too bad,” He responds, carding fingers through his still slightly damp hair before running his open palm over his beard, scratching at his chin, “s’pretty entertaining.”
“O-kay,” You answer, sarcasm smothering your tone, “I think it’s my bedtime, Joel Miller.”
“Goodnight then,” He bows his head slightly, “neighbor.”
The tone of it makes you snort with a soft laugh, flipping him off as you depart.
Suddenly, Joel Miller doesn’t seem all that scary.
The next week is suspiciously quiet, to your surprise. You’ve opted out of keeping yourself inside now that you had a friend to keep you company, but when he doesn’t show up after a few minutes, you can’t explain why you feel disappointed.
Next week is the same, his house suspiciously dark. 
You can’t pass judgment—he could be busy, tired, or there could be no reason at all.
But, the need in you is there—for what, you’re not even sure.
By the third week you’re ready with a peace offering, a truce.
That night his lights are on and he’s even moving around, somewhere in his kitchen you’re assuming, but instead of sneaking out into the backyard you’re crossing over your front lawn and into his, seemingly fresh mowed and smelling of wet grass, having been under mostly rain showers all night and you knock at his door.
You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until the door opens and you smile at the sight of him, sleep pants hanging low on his hips and his shirt slightly raised by his stomach. He looks exhausted, eyes puffy with sleep as he rubs at them with his knuckles, but he doesn’t look displeased at the sight of you—in fact, he almost smiles in response.
One rolled joint in your left hand, a second in your right. It’s a wordless gesture that makes Joel scoff in amusement and nod you inside of his home. His home. That you’ve never seen until now. You were in his house and it was the most casual thing in the world. You don’t linger for long, following him toward the sliding door to his backyard but the place feels…homey. Lived in. So much unlike your own and disorganized in a way that showed years of age and memories, pictures scattered along the walls and years of personal crafts that you couldn’t examine for as long as you wished.
“Sorry I disappeared,” He acknowledges the unasked question, even though it lingered on your tongue, “—got a huge job at work, getting the site ready has been a pain in my ass.”
You share the lounge chair, taking a seat against the part of the chair that was propped up while Joel opts for the end, giving you a comfortable amount of space to stretch out if you wanted but also, and maybe instinctively, trying not to pressure you into feeling like you had to share space with him.
“Can I ask?” 
Like a goddamn broken record, Joel chuckles at that. Full and genuine as he lights the end of the joint and wordlessly helps you, the same cupping motion of his hands that you welcome this time, almost eagerly.
“Ya gotta stop askin’ that,” Joel says, “especially when you’re just gonna ask anyways.”
Well. 
“I’m a carpenter. Long hours, got a bad sleep schedule ‘cause of it. Pays good, though.”
“Oh, that’s…”
“Not interesting at all, I know.”
“No—no, I mean. I don’t know what I was expecting you to say. That sounds…fun?”
“If you think busted knuckles and an achy back is fun—but I’m old, can’t really escape that.”
You laugh under your breath and inhale the joint between your lips, blowing it out as you speak.
“You are not old, Joel. Come on.”
“I’ve got two fully grown daughters in college and a 401k callin’ my name in about a decade.”
“So, what? Fifty five? Fifty six? You can do better than that.”
“You’re a little shit, you know that?”
You shrug at him, a satisfied smirk stretching over your face.
It’s a back and forth game you play for a while—nights spent at his house where you bicker back and forth, offering snacks and occasionally getting the royal treatment of dinner or a late-night breakfast if Joel was feeling too antsy to sleep. 
He never flirts, really. Despite how you don’t cover up around him for his own sake, always showing up in your sleep clothes that barely allowed for any modesty or the summer clothes that clung to your body and hugged your curves, allowing his eyes to trace and outline all over your figure as much as he wanted to—and sometimes he did, catching his gaze on you for a brief moment before it fades.
But, the first crack in his hard facade comes over a late night meal of pancakes and bacon, grabbing the blueberries from his fridge as he fries the meat on the stove, his elbow bumping the fridge door and knocking the small plastic box of blueberries out of your hand and to the floor, a surprised yelp coming from your throat as you scramble to catch them all.
“Shit, shit—I’m sorry, that was my fault.” You apologize, picking at the blueberries that didn’t make it, shoveling them into your hand and Joel leans down slowly, kneeling as he scoops the tainted blueberries into his own hand and dumps them in the trash.
“My bad, baby—that was on me,” It flows off his tongue with ease and if he realizes he’s said it, he doesn’t acknowledge it, “damn grease popped at me—go on, sit down. I’ll clean the rest up and we can use up what’s left.”
You both enjoy your meal without a blip, not daring to address the slip-up—he peppers you with sugars and sweethearts and the occasional honey when you get a little too combative over a topic, but never baby.
The second time is less surprising and more of a comfort, if you’re being honest with yourself.
Again, struggling with his lighter—this time your hand is holding one of those sparklers you haven’t touched since you were a child—leftovers from the bunch that Sarah and Ellie, his two daughters had brought home over the holiday. You never came over, despite his insisting invitation and running into his brother Tommy on the way home the night prior to the Fourth of July. He'd insisted too.
It just won’t light—and Joel had made the mistake of getting a few of them wet when he’d cleaned off his deck that night and suddenly you’re wondering it’s just a dud.
You hover the flame, mind drifting as you watch the flame grow and you don’t realize you’re burning yourself until Joel is pulling the items from your hands, dropping you back down into reality as you feel the sting, the sudden burn to your thumb as Joel says something that you don’t quite hear at first.
“Sweetheart, you gotta pay attention—“
You look up at him meekly and he pulls you inside with a nod of his, turning on the cold water and pulling your hand under the stream.
“Where’d you go?”
You raise your eyebrows in question, the lingering high drifting off from earlier in the night.
“Oh—just, kinda spaced out, I guess?”
Joel rubs his thumb over yours gingerly and turns off the water, grabbing you a clean washcloth stuffed with a couple pieces of ice to soothe the burn for the time being.
“Baby, you really gotta be more careful.”
Your head snaps over to him as he threw a damp paper towel into the trash and watches the sudden realization cross your face—looking for uneasiness, fear, worry; but in an instant, your body relaxes and you shake your head.
“I promise. It won’t happen again.”
You see the way his lips part slightly, almost as if he’s gearing to add a, “Me too,” for a different reason, but it never comes.
-
Near the end of summer, you find yourself there again.
But, things feel different.
“So, I’ve got a surprise.”
Joel leans up at your words, arm resting over his knees as you plop the bag down on the table beside the chair—Joel looks slightly worried, eyes flicking toward you and back at the bag.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never tried edibles.”
“It’s not really my thing, sugar—”
“Joel, you’ve been smoking longer than I’ve been alive.”
“Now, you know that don’t mean a damn thing.”
You shake your head in fake dismay, slipping your hand into the bag to grab a few pieces. 
One for him…a couple for you.
“Aren’t those supposed to be pretty strong?”
You shrug, “I think it depends. Person to person. I’ve never tried these before, but I’ve never had a bad trip, so…”
Joel’s eyes linger, finger poking at the small, cube gummy in your hand like a child discovering a new toy.
“Hey, we’re doing this together,” You offer as a half-assed comfort, “so if it sucks, it’ll suck for both of us.”
Joel doesn’t seem to need much convincing, though. He plucks the gummy from your palm and places it on his tongue, watching as you do the same and you chew, settling back on your palms at the end of the chair, feet outstretched and crossed in front of you as you stare up at the sky.
It was a Waxing Gibbous moon, not quite full but nearly there—it hovered over Joel’s house, just enough light to illuminate the space between you two. And you wait in comfortable silence aside from the low hum of music playing inside Joel’s house, dark inside now that he had turned off all the lights as you had followed him outside.
He always spent more time out here with you than he intended nowadays.
By a half hour, you find the idle conversation quickly divulges into things more obscure, your gaze lingering on the sky longer than you realize and Joel speaks to you softly, your heart pounding slowly in your ears.
“It ain’t going nowhere.”
You turn to him slightly, blinking a few times before you realize what he’s referring to.
“Oh. Well, obviously. It’s just pretty. I could stare at it all night.”
“Can’t blame you,” Joel responds, but his eyes are nowhere near the sky.
Oblivious, your gaze lingers upwards still, leaning back so far on your hands you feel yourself slip and yelp, only caught by Joel’s hands nearly a second short of a serious head injury.
“Come here,” Joel beckons, fingers wrapping around your bicep as he pulls you forward until your back is against his chest and he allows you to lean into him, feeling him clear his throat behind you as he keeps his hands a respectable distance despite how easily he’d move you into this position to begin with.
Commendable? Sure. Frustrating? Absolutely.
If you couldn’t feel the hard, solid line of his body at your backside it wouldn’t bother you so much. And the heat of his body, scolding to the touch like a furnace. He ran hot, that much you already knew just by a few faint touches before but this—it overwhelms your senses.
You try to distract yourself, noticing the carved out wooden statue of a cowboy riding a horse while it was rearing back, you squint your eyes before perking up with a sudden question.
“Where’d you get that?”
“Get what?”
You giggle slightly, tapping at his arm to grab his attention before you point in the direction of the statue placed by the stairs, “That thing.”
“Oh, that—I…made it.” He looks away with a sudden embarrassment as you quickly twist your head up to look at him in complete and utter shock—he scrunches his face up and dares to take a peek at you from his peripheral and his face heats up when he sees you looking so rapt.
“Joel, that is insanely fucking good.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Don’t sweetheart me,” You mock his tone, “how long did that take to make?”
Joel tries to think—it’s been years now. Sarah was barely out of grade school and he had just adopted Ellie, it was all a blur anymore with both of the girls in college now.
“A month, on and off between jobs. It’s just a piece of junk, really.”
“Joel, shut up.”
Joel can’t hold back the even bigger laugh that escapes him at your bluntness.
“It’s just a hobby.”
“A hobby you seem to be really fuckin’ good at.”
Joel shrugs and you decide to leave it be, relaxing back into his chest more comfortably, though his arm lingers more closely to your body, fingertips resting against your bicep that slowly start to move on their own, whether by Joel’s own conscious movements or just by nature of seeking touch. It’s a gentle trace, it tickles and you shrug your arm slightly to which he responds with a gentle squeeze.
By the hour mark you find that Joel hates when you ask about his statues or some of the homemade structures in his backyard—littered throughout along with an old playhouse that you can only assume belonged to his daughters, much outgrown and covered in vines and weeds, intertwined through cracks in the wood.
He hates it so much he actually tries to distract you with something else. Anything. 
Unfortunately, nothing really works. So, he changes gears completely.
“What’s with the sundress tonight?” Joel asks suddenly, the playful lilt to his voice hidden behind a sudden need for authority over the situation. “Gettin’ all dolled up in the middle of the night.”
“It’s new,” You say with an eagerness, rubbing your finger over the silk fabric of the dress, “do you like it?”
“You really askin’ my opinion?”
Of course. I bought it for you. 
“Do you have one?” You say instead.
“It’s nice,” He runs his pointer finger and thumb over the strap on your left shoulder that slips down, lingering against your skin as his palm covers the expanse of it.
His touch feels far away but so intense, head swirling with thoughts you can’t follow—there’s a primal need there, though. And you can’t tell if he feels it too. If it’s just the weed in your system or if it’s weeks and weeks of built up tension boiling over the edge.
This is the closest Joel has allowed you to be—he’s relaxed, his barriers are down and the hand lingering on your elbow is careful but explorative, his fingers trailing to the middle of your chest, flipping the small silver necklace around your neck under his fingertips, feeling so delicate. More importantly, he feels your heart, stretching the palm out wide and over your skin.
“Y‘alright?” 
You nod and shuffle your feet, planting them on the end of the chair as you pull your knees up, the dress falling just at the apex of your thighs, barely allowing any modesty and if you spread your thighs even a half inch—
Joel breaks his eyes away, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest despite your rapidly beating heart.
“That heart of yours is racin’, sugar. Are you sure?”
Again, you nod. But, the subtle shift against him forces his fingers lower as you adjust yourself higher, ass pressed right against his groin and it does no favor for Joel, who’s fingers dip just below the fabric of your dress in the process, grazing down the center of your chest.
“You nervous or something?”
Nervous, no. Joel didn’t make you nervous anymore. The heat between your legs told you otherwise, and the need for touch was impossible to ignore and maybe just for a moment—just a second, you could let him. It would solve this ridiculous ache that had grown between your legs.
Joel seems so in tune with you and he sees the way your eyes are locked on his hand, unmoving but the half of his fingers tucked under the top of your dress.
“You don’t make me nervous, Joel.”
That wasn’t necessarily the question—and suddenly, you realize your misstep, looking up at him suddenly to catch the intense look on his face, almost like he was anticipating your gaze. His bottom lip is slightly parted from his top, face flush from the summer heat but his eyes are dark, follow the path of your face until it lands on his hand and then he speaks.
“What is it then?”
The way you press your thighs together at the sound of his voice, low and heated, spoken behind a gaze that made you feel small but admired. 
Touch me. Make it better. 
You don’t say it, it’s only a thought. 
But, Joel is a mind reader. He never leaves your sight, but his hand moves on its own accord and squeezes your breast gently. His rough and calloused palm is a stark contrast over soft skin and if you would have made any sign of not wanting this, he would’ve pulled away.
Instead, your chest cants under his touch and your head nods without an answer to his question, because he already knew.
“Lemme see ‘em, sweetheart,” It takes little effort to pull the straps down your shoulders, his other hand pushing the fabric just below your breasts, allowing them free and Joel makes a soft, low noise behind you as he covers your chest with both hands, thumbs grazing over your nipples as they pebble under his touch, “that feel better?”
Not good. Not alright. Better—was he helping you? Was he soothing that ache he’d created?
“Y-Yeah, yes.”
He’s just as curious, squeezing the flesh in hands and occasionally letting his finger trace down your abdomen as your dress shifts and shifts until it’s barely a means to keeping your modesty over your lap, hands pressed down at the space beside Joel’s hips as you push yourself up until your head is nearly level with his, his hands squeezing your tits together as you sigh. He hooks his chin over you shoulder and watches, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back.
“You need more?” He asks, “Tell me, baby—I’m right here.”
The baby rings through your head like a warning bell. 
Once was an accident, twice a coincidence, three times…
Stop it. Stop it now and you won’t have to face the awkwardness after your high wore off and you both had a night to sleep and think and regret—but you find yourself nodding anyway.
Why was Joel any different from a random hookup? Other than being your neighbor, slowly coming to what you consider to be a friend, crumbling apart before you as he hikes your dress up over your hips and grips it tight.
You nod to his question.
“Take those off,” He speaks over your shoulder and you don’t need persuading, fingers hooking into the underwear clinging to your hips and down, over your ankles as you kick them away and almost instantly Joel’s hands are on your knees, spreading you wide, his palms squeezing at the inside of your thigh, “shit, look at that—“
He dips a finger down the center of your pussy, through the slick pool of accumulated pleasure and pulls away, shiny and glistening against his fingertips as he breathes against the shell of your ear, “All that just from me touchin’ you?”
You could answer—keep dragging out this game of cat and mouse that had started between you but instead you reach for his hand, placing it against your cunt as he cups it with his palm, dragging the two middle most fingers up and down the seam, circling over your clit briefly before they’re plunging inside of you with ease, aided by just how wet you were—your pussy throbs around his fingers.
Words are few and far between outside of the soft, mewling noises you make into the side of his face as your arm comes up and wraps around the back of his neck, yanking at the short hair at his nape and dragging your mouth along his cheek as you breath out in short huffs, his other hand coming down to circle at your clit with no preamble—straight for the kill and eager without saying it. 
His grip is heavy, forceful as his fingers pump in and out of you pussy with little care, the soft squelch of your arousal around his fingers forcing the heat to climb to your face and you feel his jeans rutting into the backside, desperate for relief just as much as you but too selfless to speak up about it.
And you feel the crest in your chest, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy flutters around his fingers, a shout that is quickly muffled by Joel’s hand as it covers your mouth, the fingers still buried inside of you and working you through the aftershocks as he shushes you gently. Your body feels like it’s vibrating, legs shaking slightly as he removes his fingers and squeezes tenderly at the inside of your thigh, feeling the dampness from his fingers spread over your skin  before they’re climbing their way up your body, along your skin until he’s bringing them to his mouth silently and cleaning them up like he’d made a mess of his meal, your eyes widen at the sight and you feel overtaken, flooded with desire that you can’t sit and suffer with any longer.
“Knew I was right in callin’ you sugar,” He teases, catching your face in between his fingers as you turn to kneel between his legs, “so damn sweet.”
His fingers tap at his thighs, rough denim under his fingertips to match his overworked, weathered hands and you can’t help but admire, knowing they had been buried inside of you a few moments ago and you bow your head, popping the button of Joel’s jeans as he casually reaches for your hips, kneading the muscle of your thighs as he watches, helping you situate his jeans far enough down his own thighs that you can slip your hands past his boxers, straining against the weight of his cock, hard and aching as it reached up toward his stomach.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to,” He tells you, but you scoff slightly in amusement, not wanting to know how frazzled you look, half-lidded and bloodshot eyes under the moonlight, bare aside from the newly bought dress at your waist and Joel is most definitely still staring at your tits, his eyes dragging up to your face a few seconds too late, “I’m guessin’ we should of talked through this first but I just wanted to make you feel good—”
“You think I feel obligated?” Your eyebrow raises up slightly before you’re pulling his boxer down just enough that his cock springs out, bobbing away from his stomach slightly and you only allow yourself half a second to react.
He’s big, from root to tip you know it is the biggest you’ve ever had and you’re waiting for the cocky remark, the begging for compliments and thoughts that you hear so often during these halfway thought out hook-ups but this wasn’t that. It was weeks of build up, the tension line snapping under the weight of your unspoken desire for each other. 
“Joel—”
“Don’t go boostin’ my ego,” He chuckles, “—not you, baby.”
You laugh softly and dip your head, feeling his hand curve over and through your hair, down your neck before it settles against the middle of your back and he brushes the stray hair from your face, allows his finger to rest behind your ear as you tilt your head and lick a long stripe up his cock, flicking your eyes up briefly to catch him staring, mouth closed and unnaturally stoic for a moment, like he’s holding his breath.
“Show me,” You plead with him, “whaddya like?”
You move down slightly to roll your tongue along his balls, the weight of it in your mouth as you suckle and feel his fingertips scrape gently along your skin, allowing a few moments of your own exploration before he’s wrapping his hand around his shaft and using the other to grip your chin and rubbing the tip against your half-open mouth, forcing a dribble of spit between your lips and letting it trail down the tip before he feeds his cock into your mouth, tongue spreading flat over the underside and keeping him in your eye-line before it’s nearly impossible, feeling him guide you down until his cock nudges the back of your throat with a slight sting, eyes watering.
“Look at that,” His voice is low, gruff as it rumbles in his chest, “makin’ it all fit in that pretty little moutha’ yours.”
You quickly realize that Joel enjoys watching you feel consumed by him, choking on his cock as your head bobs up and down with fervor, a gentle guiding hand against the back of your head as you breathe through your nose, feeling him nudge the back of your throat over and over and over until you find yourself fighting for air and oblivious to the symphony of curses Joel was spewing above you as his neck was tight, straining as he tipped his own head back against the chair.
And he looks too fucking good to pass up on. You rise, pulling at the collar of his shirt to grab his attention and his eyes open wide, his pupils blown out and dilated as he watches you move, biting at your bottom lip as you shuffled your legs over his hips to straddle him.
“Can you fuck me?” 
“Can I—sweetheart, you sure?”
You give him a look of flippant disregard, too impatient to pace through the steps of sureness. But, Joel is focused suddenly, pulling your attention to him as his palm finds your face, cradling your cheek and rubbing his thumb over the shape of your lips.
“Don’t give me that look,” He tells you.
“Yes, Joel.” You answer him impatiently, “I just—I mean I don’t have anything, but…”
“You ain’t gotta worry about that,” Joel chuckles, “been out of commission for a while, sugar.”
You can’t help to release the giggle that bubbles in your chest at that.
He’d had kids, a family at some point—but that wasn’t his life now. He was a renewed bachelor, experiencing all the things he’d put on the back-burner to be a good and proper father. While this hadn’t been at the top of his list, or even anywhere on it really, you can see the happy satisfaction on his face with how comfortable he’s grown in the time you’ve gotten to know one another.
“Can’t tell,” You comment slyly as you lift up on your knees, allowing Joel to shift his jeans further down until they’re bunched sloppily at his ankles.
Joel rolls his eyes fondly, “Go on, baby.”
He watches, eyes following your hand as you grip his cock at the base, rubbing it along the center of your cunt, gliding through messy arousal and finding some excitement in the way he squeezes at your thighs a little too hard, fingers curling around the back of your knee as the head of his cock catches against your clit, again, again, barely allowing him to press inside of you until finally, a few harsh pleas balancing on his tongue that quickly dissipate as you sink down onto him inch by suffocating inch.
You breathe out slowly, watching Joel as he watches you, his eyes locked on the sight of his cock as it settles inside of you, only allowing the slow, gentle rock of your hips as you adjust.
His stomach flexes under your touch, fisting your hands into his shirt and lifting it out of the way before Joel gets the hint and strips himself completely, kicking his jeans off weakly as you sigh, squeezing gently as his shoulders and feeling his hands grip at your backside, into the soft flesh of your cheeks and you strip the wrinkled fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere behind Joel’s head as you fingers grip along the edge the bar of the chair above his head, lifting your hips in time with his movements as he keeps a firm hand on you, allowing soft puffs of groans to fall from his lips as your tits bounce with the frantic movement and Joel leans forward, capturing the side of your breast between his teeth, a gentle bite that causes you to squeak.
It’s quickly soothed by his tongue before he flicks it over your nipple, circling the peaked and pebbled nub before he’s sucking it between his teeth, eyes locking on yours from the depraved angle it allows you, still able to spot the few shining grays of his hair in this light. You card your fingers through his hair and arch your chest into his mouth, “J-Joel, maybe we should move this inside.”
He shakes his head, mouth still stuffed full with you as you moan out loudly when he smacks your ass in one gentle but solid swing and you want to blame his boldness on the dwindling drug in your system, but somehow you come to the conclusion that it was just Joel, unbridled and wanting. Of you.
“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart,” Joel disagrees as he pulls back, “no one gives a damn ‘round here, anyways.”
“Says you,” You laugh weakly, whimpering softly as he snaps his hips into you with sudden force, his hand reaching for the back of your neck to urge you forward, forgoing your body for your lips and it’s more intense than anything else going on around you—his cock stuffed inside of you, the fingers on your skin, it didn’t matter for that brief second of a first touch, kissing you sloppily as you moan into each other’s shared space.
“Well, I do—got this one neighbor,” He jokes, “nosey as shit but damn is she a good fuckin’ time.”
You gasp as he pulls you close, free arm wrapping around your back as he slips his tongue past your lips, using the opportunity as your lips part to devour you in an instant and you pull at the stands of his hair in turn, kissing him back with a harsh pressure that begs for more.
“M’not nosey,” You defend lamely, “just—fuck, curious, ya know?”
“Thank god for that,” Joel sighs, and your pussy flutters before squeezing around him, “oh, fuck baby—do that... do that again.”
You do, teasingly, watching as Joel curses under his breath and leans back, watching you move against him without shame, a hand pressing against your stomach to guide you to lean back slightly, “Look at that, sweetheart—makin’ a goddamn mess on me.”
The short, coarse hair at his groin is wet and sure enough, covered in the messy slick of you and mixed with the thin sheen of sweat that had covered both of your bodies in this sticky heat.
“You like the idea of gettin’ high and letting me fuck you?” Joel questions amongst the pound of your heart in your ears, the heat of his gaze quickly driving you toward the edge again. He chuckles, “Dirty—dirty girl. Was that what you’ve been plannin’ since the beginning?”
“Would’ve let you fuck me either way,” You admit, only a half-truth. You weren’t sure if you’d ever pluck up the courage had Joel not made the first move, but you’re damn sure glad he did anyways, “and with a cock like that, god—”
“Easy,” Joel warns, “givin’ me a complex the way you were looking at it.”
“It’s big, Joel.” You admit, pushing the stray hair that had fallen down over his forehead away and back into this messily quaffed hair, “You like knowing I can barely fit it all in my mouth, don’t—don’t act coy about it.”
He’s not—he’d been more than willing to allow you to choke on the girth of him until you begged for mercy, but given his normally gentle nature with you, he wasn’t going to take it that far. 
Your brow drags up in a pinch, moaning as his thumb presses against your clit and circles, presses down gently, just the right amount of everything to drive you to near insanity. Your thighs squeeze against his own where he has you spread out, hands balled up into fists that punch gently at his chest.
“You’re right there, baby—gotcha, I gotcha.” He murmurs, watching you intently as you grip at the arm wrapped around your back to keep you upright, fingers digging into his bicep as you tip over the edge, legs shaking through the second orgasm he’s given you that night, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you start to see the flurry of stars in your darkened vision.
Your limbs give out shortly after, falling against his chest as he snaps his hips, just near the edge himself as he groans, grunts, breathing hotly into the curve of your neck and you rub at the little spot behind his ear that makes him chuckle, “Want it all inside,” You tell him through a cloud haze of need and pure desire, “can you do that, Joel?”
“Fill you up, sugar?” He asks, sounding a little taken aback, “If that’s—if that’s somethin’ you’re comfortable with.”
You nod eagerly and he loosens the reins completely, lifting one of your legs until you can plant a foot near his hip and he pounds into you, pulling back when he feels the impending orgasm grow in his gut, hot and intense. He watches as he comes inside of you with a few slow snaps of his hips.
“Shit,” He curses after a drawn-out silence, helping you move off of him and into a more comfortable position between his legs as he grabs lazily for his shirt, cleaning up the mess of your wet arousal against his skin and letting the spoiled shirt rest over his groin for modesty, breathing in slow, full breaths.
It’s been too long for him and he knows it.
Joel reaches for the dress that caught on the edge of the chair by his head and hands it over, watching as you slipped it over your head, legs still spread out over his own and he can’t help but draw his eyes to the sight of his come dripping out between your legs and he grins subtly, motioning you forward with a tired finger that you look at curiously before scooting forward an inch, thinking he may wipe something of your face, arrange a piece of hair back into place, but instead he’s slipping his ring finger inside of you and it forces a surprised gasp from your chest.
You laugh airily and swat his hand away, “Stop that,” You tell him.
“Just makin’ sure you don’t waste any of it, sweetheart.”
You snort, flipping him off half-heartedly as you reach for your underwear, standing up to pull it back up your hips and under your dress, swaying slightly on your feet after having been sat for so long. 
You sigh, pushing your hair back with your hands, suddenly feeling sticky and gross in the aftermath and Joel seems to notice, slowly redressing himself as he stands.
“Why don’t you shower?” Joel suggests, leaving his jeans unbutton but pulled back up his hips. Shirt balled up in his hand.
You look geared to say no, but Joel sweetens the deal.
He looks at his watch, nearing two in the morning.
“I’ll make us an early breakfast,” He offers, shrugging with a lazy smile, “I mean—early early, because I know you’re probably starvin’. I know I am.”
“Only if you’ll make the blueberry pancakes.”
Of course that was the ultimatum.
“Deal, sugar—go get your ass in the shower.” He nods toward the house and you laugh, running away from the hand that pushes at your back.
So, maybe Joel wasn’t the scary neighbor you assumed him to be. But, you couldn’t deny the bursting affection that was growing in your chest for him and that was even more terrifying.
And when he serves up the pancakes to you, hair damp and dripping down your back and onto the shirt he’d lent you, a small square of pancake balanced on a fork that he feeds into your mouth, you feel it.
He's still shirtless, barefoot against his kitchen floor.
“We can—we can do this again, right?”
Joel smiles, looking down at the plate as he cuts off another piece.
“I’ve been waitin’ an entire summer to get the courage to do that, or even ask you on a proper date—we can do whatever you want, sugar.”
“Dates are overrated,” You shrug, “I like this better.”
“Good,” Joel grins, “least now I can mow that lawn of yours without feelin’ bad for asking.”
“Excuse you—I do just fine on my own,” You gasp with mock offense.
You’re lying—that mower was a piece of shit and Joel could see the way your face quickly melts into embarrassment, laughing quietly behind his fist.
“I like helpin’ out,” He tells you with a shrug, beginning to list off a few things he could help work on around your house, eyes drifting off as he went through the mental list, oblivious to the sudden closeness as you leaned over the counter and capture his lips, closed mouth with both of your cheeks puffed full of pancakes.
“You ramble when you’re high,” You tease him, “it’s adorable.”
Joel grimaces at the word but relents when he sees you smile, wide and spreading out across your entire face, snatching the fork from his hand while he’s distracted.
“So, same time next week?”
“Deal, sweetheart.”
Joel doesn’t care that you show up empty-handed the following week.
And frankly, neither do you.
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divider creds: @saradika-graphics
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herballwitch · 2 months
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Connecting with Gods and Deities
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Hello, My name is Alva Tauri! I am an herbalist, spirit worker, tarot and oracle reader, and lunar and herbal witch dedicated to closing the education gap when it comes to herbalism and witch practices!
Today, I wanted to talk about ways in which I connect with the Gods and deities I worship in my life, to aid new witches in this task in their day to day practice. I believe that we oftentimes overcomplicated this part of our practice and that can make this task seem overwhelming and daunting when, in reality, connection can be simple.
I want to gear this post towards my new witches who do not fully grasp the concept yet or don't yet have an altar, as well as my fellow neurodivergent, mentally ill, and/or chronically ill witches who may find this task daunting for other reasons (I.E. low physical, low mental energy, physical pain, etc.) A portion of this post will be dedicated to low energy ways to connect with your Gods and/or deities to make your practice a bit easier.
Let's get started!
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Day to Day Connections
it can be difficult to remember to do rituals or sit at our altar intentionally in our busy lives. here are some tasks you can do within minutes every single day to connect with your Gods and/or deities - great for days that are hectic or with minimal free time:
light a candle and simply say thank you
offer the meal or snack that you made to them
offer your drink to them
bit them goodmorning and goodnight
thank them for the things you enjoy throughout your day
dedicate a cleaning task to them (I.E. vacuuming, doing laundry, etc.)
cleanse your space spiritually and dedicate that task to them (I.E. sage burning, incense, etc.)
Altar-less Connections
we were all new or closeted witches at one point in our lives. none of us started with an altar and a fancy set up with all the tools we needed. here are some ways that you can connect with your Gods and/or deities without an altar:
read about your Gods and/or deities myths and legends
spend some time meditating and simply thinking about them
wear their colors as symbols
make a digital offering to them online
write poetry for them
pray to them
make a playlist for them and listen to it
talk to them about your day (this can be in your head if you are closeted. you do not have to pray out loud for them to hear you. they are always with you and supporting you)
Low Energy Connections
for my fellow neurodivergent, chronically ill, and/or mentally ill witches, here is a section full of little ways you can connect with your Gods and/or deities on rough days that leave you with low mental or physical energy:
pray from the comfort of your bed (they will know you mean this with good intentions. they will not be offended. trust me.)
talk to them about your day
dedicate your self-care routine (no matter how short or long it is) to your Gods and/or deities
offer them your food or drink - this can be as simple as offering them a glass of water if that is all you have the energy to get in that moment
light a candle or incense in their honor (I recommend incense if you are feeling truly exhausted, as you can leaving it burning without any major repercussions, unlike a candle)
dedicate a moment of rest to them (I.E. sleeping, taking a nap, even just taking a moment to sit in silence and rest your body and mind)
make a playlist for them and listen
make a post or pinterest board in their honor
Advanced, More Time Consuming Methods of Connection
on days that you have the time and the energy and are feeling a calling to make a bigger grand gesture, here are some tasks I like to do at my altar. NOTE: you do not have to do these everyday or even every week. if you feel a calling to do this, then do. if you do not, then these are not required. remember, at the end of the day you know your relations with your Gods and/or deities better than anyone else. trust your gut and your intuition:
COMING SOON!
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That's all for connections with your Gods and/or Deities! I hope that you found this helpful in your spiritual journey and I hope that you are able to apply this information to your practice.
if you have any questions regarding anything discussed here or anything you feel that I have missed, please send an ask to my ask box! I appreciate all comments and questions!
For more information on my practice, witchcraft, herbalism, spirit work, and divination please check out the guide on my page (linked here)! Everything I have ever posted can be found there!
I wish you all a blessed day filled with peace, endless wealth, and eternal health! Until the next time we meet!
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hitomisuzuya · 5 months
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Yandere!Kunikuzushi (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Aphrodisiac. Creampie. Finger sucking. One mention of killing. Scaramouche peeks through occasionally.
Yandere Kunikuzushi won the poll. I hope this measures up to the first part. Kuni cumming inside for the first time.
As much as Kunikuzushi enjoyed devouring your pussy to his heart's content, he was starting to crave more. There was something so intensely arousing about cumming inside of you. He knew very well that it ran the risk of pregnancy, but your hips just looked so fucking perfect. Perfect for breeding.
He didn't want just that though. Oh no, he wanted so much more. He knew you would agree without hesitation to let him cum inside of you, you were starting to crave him as much as he craved you.
Kunikuzushi wanted you to look him right in his eyes, your eyes glassy with lust and desperation for him and tell him you wanted him to cum inside. He'd read about aphrodisiacs. He deduced that this would be the best method to get you say that without him asking first.
His cock throbbed thinking about folding your body into a mating press, being caged in by him and doing nothing but moan and cry for him while he pumped his cock inside of you, his cum seeping and coating it more with every thrust.
Kunikuzushi put his plan into action once he obtained the aphrodisiac capsule from a small pharmacy. You were distracted with a book when he broke open the capsule in the drink he got for you from the kitchen.
Now all he had to do is sit and wait, anticipating when the symptoms of the aphrodisiac setting in started to show.
He counted every second until he saw you shift restlessly on your bed. It looked like you were having a hard time concentrating. "Is something wrong?" He asked innocently as you closed your book and set it aside.
Your cheeks were flushed, and your breathing was sort of labored. You looked at him and said, "I feel really warm, and my body aches," You said, moving closer to him on the bed.
"Oh? Do you want me to go and get a doctor?" He asked, putting a hand on your forehead.
You shook your head. "No, I don't. Did you know that I have always thought your fingers are beautiful?" You said, glancing longingly at his fingers.
Kunikuzushi smirked. You were already so far gone. There was only one thing on your mind now. And that was him. He could see it in your eyes. "Oh?" He said, brushing his fingers on your lips. "You look like you have something rattling around in that pretty head of yours."
"Mhm," You said, the tip of your tongue flicked out against his fingers, sending a shiver through him. "I want to suck on your fingers, and then," You stroked his wrist, "I want you to cum inside of me."
Kunikuzushi felt such a rush course through him. You were just so fucking addicting. You would never say that to the blacksmith who he overheard telling his friend about wanting to ask you out. And then in the next breath said very vulgar and distasteful things about you.
That man was by now weighed down by rocks and dismembered, serving as fish food. Never to be found. He bled out so fast, but a pound of flesh was the only payment he would accept for insulting your honor in such a disgusting manner.
Kunikuzushi pushed his fingers into your mouth, savoring the happy moan that you muffled on his fingers. He pumped them in and out of your mouth, his fingers exploring as you sucked.
You gagged as he pushed his fingers into your throat. He was fast getting swept up in the dominant power he held over you. He could've made you choke over and over on his fingers and you would've gladly kept sucking once you recovered.
Your tongue lapped and curled, worshipping on his fingers. When he couldn't ignore the throbbing in his cock any longer, he took his fingers out of your mouth. Capturing your lips in a heated, open mouth kiss, his hands hastily removed your clothes.
Kunikuzushi indulged in every fantasy he'd jacked himself off having about you. This would be the first time his cock was ever inside of you. It felt so good to just let go and further corrupt you. He needed to build you up to a certain point by making you cream over and over again on his tongue first.
You felt such comfort under the sheer weight of his dominance as he bit and sucked bruises that would rapidly darken on your skin. Everyone would know you belonged to him. They needed to know. That way they wouldn't dare to fathom taking you away from him.
Your pussy felt so wet on his cock, your body folding so fragile and pliant underneath him as he bent you into the mating press he'd read so much about. He could tell your body struggled to tremble in pleasure as he pinned you down, caging you underneath him.
His hands tightened possessively on your wrists, holding them down on the bed, and using them as leverage to grind his aching cock between the drooling folds of your cunt.
"Say it again," He groaned, teasing the head of his cock against your clit. "Tell me you want me to cum inside again," Your pussy clenched around the tip of his cock, your hips jerking up to urge it against your entrance.
"Yes, Kuni, please! Cum inside of me!" You pleaded, struggling to grind against his cock. Need for him gripped your body, amplified by the aphrodisiac. You mewled, the sensation of his cock teasing against your clit sent made your body ache, and tremble more.
Kunikuzushi wouldn't dream of denying you. Especially not when he had dreamt of this moment so many times. With a husky groan, he pushed his cock inside of you.
"So wet," He moaned, his cheeks flushing from how lewd his cock sounded as your pussy swallowed it. "So tight. Clenching like a perfect slut on my cock," He pulled out just to bottom out again, his cock throbbing as your walls squeezed around it.
Kunikuzushi enjoyed watching you struggle to buck your hips up as his kissed his cock into your sweet spot. He felt your body melting under his with every thrust of his cock, surrendering yourself to him completely.
You looked so cock drunk, drool pooling from the corner of your mouth as you moaned shamelessly. Shamelessly for him. It sent him reeling that you made someone like him capable of feeling such filthy human emotions.
The closer he got to cumming, the more he started to whimper with raw need. It sounded so disorienting to him that he had to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth to muffle them.
The way your fingers intertwined with his, squeezing like you were clinging to him was pure bliss to him. The mewl of pleasure when he emptied his cock inside of you, unable to stop thrusting down into you was utterly addicting.
He wondered if you could even hear yourself babbling about you were his and only his fucked so dumb on his cock.
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sungbeams · 5 days
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FILL YOU UP
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⸻ in which he cums inside
⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon x fem!reader (separately)
⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship
⟡ ┆ content warnings. unprotected sex (duh), mentions of porn, pull out method, spanking and choking (but none of it on screen)
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ꖛ HEESEUNG !!
- he would tease you so so much about it - makes you come and sit on his lap to talk in depth about it, looking at you with half lidded eyes as you try your best to explain it to him without turning into a blushing, stuttering mess - smirks up at you as you stumble over your words the moment your eyes meet, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass which only causes you to get more and more flustered with every passing second - he nods every now and then, humming as he encourages you to keep going as he watches and enjoys turning you into a frustrated mess above him - within what feels like the blink of an eye you're naked on top of him, bouncing up and down his cock as he attacks your neck with his lips, leaving bruises in their wake, rasping praises against your skin - moans right into your ear about how pretty you'd look all filled up with his cum, how he wants to watch it drip out of you just to shove it right back into you - you'd be cumming in no time, whimpering his name as his hands hold onto your hips in a bruising grip and continue to slam you down onto his hard cock - fucks you right into overstimulation, tears threatening to spill past your lashes as you're reduced to a shaking and mewling mess above him - once he finishes, he makes you sit in front of him, legs spread wide open to allow him to plunge his fingers into your sopping cunt - he mumbles to himself how he doesn't want any to spill out, how he has to make sure nothing goes to waste - you're pretty sure he doesn't even intent for you to hear his needy rambling but you do since you're just so hyper-focused on his at this point - and in combination with his fingers pressed deep inside you he sends you straight into another orgasm, his fingers continuously pushing his cum back into your leaking cunt
ꖛ JAY !!
- would be more a spur of the moment thing with him - having sex is always more like making love between the two of you - he takes his time with you, worshiping your body and showing you how much he loves you - neither of you ever really thought about switching things up, both of you were always very satisfied so why change it if it's not broken, right? - and you never really talked about him cumming inside you - he'd always pull out just in time, either jerking himself off until his cum would dribble onto your body or you would wrap your lips around his leaking cock, swallowing his warm cum as he exploded into your mouth - however, this time was different - you're both SO wrapped up in making the other feel good, wanting to make sure it would be as pleasurable as can be for each other - he's panting against your shoulder, asking you if you're close as your holds you close, chests pressed together and breaths mixing - your voice breaks slightly as you moan out, begging for him to cum inside you, almost like a primal urge overcomes your need to feel his warmth within you - even if he wanted to, jay can't deny your request, shivers running down his spine at your desperation - as he fills you up, he closely watches your reaction, your face scrunching up as you gasp for air, his name falling from your lips like a prayer - feeling his own cum around himself, he continues to lazily fuck into you, your walls fluttering and your nails scratching over his back, he knows he cannot wait to try this again and again with you - cumming inside you once is enough to get both of you addicted to the sensation and you both know you'll never go back to him pulling out
ꖛ JAKE !!
- he's so SO excited when you bring it up - in all honesty, he's been thinking about fucking you raw for a while but never wanted to bring it up in fear of you getting weirded out - let's be real, this guy watches porn and…a lot of it - some might consider it an addiction but let's not get into that now - he's lost count of how many videos he bookmarked on twitter with cum dripping out of wet pussies - so when you bring it up he feels like he could cum right then and there in his pants - just the thought of getting to see his fantasy in real life makes his dick twitch and yearn to be inside you - before you can even finish your question he has his lips pressed against yours, both of you stumbling towards your bedroom - and you're responding soooo well to him, whining out his name and begging for him to fuck you, to fill you up - he wants to take his time and savor this but the moment he slips his aching cock into your wet hole all patience melts away - hips snap forward to meet yours, his pace absolutely brutal as he grunts and whines with each thrust - as he fucks into you he only cares about one thing: cumming inside you and watching his cum leak out of your pulsing cunt - you're not much better off either, whining out his name, begging for his cum - you cling onto his shoulders as he cums deep inside you, his face buried in the nape of your neck as he groans against your skin - his cock doesn't even get the chance to soften as your walls continue pulsing around him - and as much as he wants to pull out, he can't help but want to test just how much of his cum you can fit inside before he'll get to watch it drip from your pretty pussy
ꖛ SUNGHOON !!
- possessive af so you already know he thought about it before - what better way to claim you as his than having his cum spilled deep inside your cunt and leaking out of you? - but as much as he wants to try it, he's hesitant to bring it up in case you might think it's a weird thing to get turned on by - deadass won't hesitate to mark your entire body with hickeys, wrap his hand around your throat and spank you until your skin's raw but he somehow is afraid you're gonna think he's crazy for wanting to cum inside you - lord knows what goes on in this mans head - anyway…unbeknownst to him, you had been DREAMING to have him fill you up, wanting his cum to seep out of you but never bringing it up since you weren't sure how to - being the gentleman he is, he always asks where you want him to cum when he's fucking you - your stomach, your back, your thighs, your chest, anywhere you want he's okay with it - you moan out at the feeling of him inside you and all around you, the sensation driving you absolutely insane - then you whine out for him to cum inside you - and he swears he never came that fast - quickly thrusts in and out of you, a smirk tugging on his lips as he asks you to make sure you wanted this, for him to fill you up, pump you full of his cum and fuck it back into your pretty pussy - he pants out his usual question as he presses his mouth against your neck, leaving burning hot kisses against your skin and sucking marks onto it - you know you're gonna be sore as hell tomorrow, not that you care when you can feel his cock kissing your cervix with each push of his hips - all you can do is whine as you feel his warm cum fill you up
© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.
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2-dsimp · 26 days
Note
Sneezes aggressively
Therapist who fucks reader after manipulating them(I need like something with a therapist and smut PLS)
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Cw: NSFW MDNI bimbo fem reader! Oral m! Receive, hypnotism, manipulation, unhealthy relationship dynamic, abuse of authority, slight degradation
Synopsis: You were struggling on keeping yourself together. Having no way to hire the best of the so called best to help out with your deteriorating doormat mindset. You found an a lifeline, seeing an old ad trashed up in the garbage bin. Where you discovered the man that would undoubtedly “fix you”
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Yandere therapist! that hypnotizes his darling bimbo into thinking the healthiest outlet to vent out her feelings is to worship his cock.
“Feeling sad? Awe don’t you worry sweetheart I’ve got your favorite lollipop right here! If you suck all of the filling out you’ll feel so happy I promise you”
Yandere therapist! Hummed in a sickeningly sweet tone, unzipping his fly to present his precum covered meat for his darling to binge on. Like you do for every session you guys had together.
Yandere therapist! Who tosses his head back with a low groan as he tangled his fingers into your hair. Looking down at his patient with a half lidded glowering stare. Letting out small pants as he stutters his hips into your open maw.
He couldn’t believe how adorably stupid you were to put your trust in him. He wasn’t even a credible therapist after he had lost his license from dabbling in questionable experiments.
But you, oh poor dumb you, decided to ring up his old business card at seeing the old ads of how affordable his “services” were. And he couldn’t possibly turn such a desperate pretty thing like you away. Not when he’s got a taste of having a little obedient doe eyed slut. Ready to drop on their knees ready for their dick treatment in lowering their stress levels.
Yandere therapist! Who rams his shaft down your throat holding your head so he could spray spurts of his cum down your tender throat. Loving hearing you choke on his length to the point you were clawing at his thighs. Tears welling in yours eyes at the fact that you couldn’t breathe.
“Shh, I’m almost there, breathe through your nose sweetie. Fuck— keep tightening around me. Atta girl~ you wanna be happy don’t you? I know you do. Make me cum and we can both be happy together yeah?”
That day you left the office feeling better than ever at the treatment Dr. Wesly gave you. Of course you don’t remember what happened after he snapped his fingers. As he told you that his methods are a sacred practice. But you couldn’t help but feel how sore your mouth was and roll your tongue at the faint taste of something tangy and bitter stuck in the back of your throat.
Shrugging your shoulders you overlooked it since you were gonna see him again next week. He truly is a miracle worker and you couldn’t have been any more grateful to have him as your aide.
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lxvvie · 7 months
Note
I’m just gonna slide this over to ya’
Being passed around the 141 like a damn joint, the boys having a little ‘contest’ about who’s the best pussy eater and who can make you cum the most…
That’s all…😳🥰🥵
Mmm, and the way they eat is quite reflective of their personalities.
Price is methodical, engaging with your senses. He drags your moans out, he makes your thighs quiver with every brush of his beard against your skin; the Cap'n makes it a long and drawn-out process. It isn't so much a numbers game with him as much as it is making your orgasm memorable.
Gaz is similar but there's a sensuality and playfulness there that isn't so much emphasized with Price. He teases you with a gentle kiss. He sucks and licks your clit so tenderly, and when you pull away, overstimulated, he'll playfully nip your inner thigh. Behave, darling. He worships you. ❤️
There's something to be said about Soap's style. It's... frenzied. Energetic. Exploratory. He wants to taste every corner of your cunt, bonnie. He wants to know what makes you whimper, what makes you scream his name, what makes you cum. By the time he's finished with you, Soap would know everything.
Ghost is... primal. Needy. All's fair in love and war, luv, and best believe Simon would pull out all the stops to make you cum. Fingers, lips, tongue, you fuckin' name it, he'll use it. Wants you sitting on his face, wants you to feel the bristle of his stubble and the way his fingers dig into your hips to hold you still. Wants his tongue buried deep. Wants your juices coating his face. He wants to consume you and be consumed by you in turn. Consequences, sweetheart.
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kaysungshine · 6 days
Text
𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓲 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽 ♡
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{ Pairing } - Producer.bf!Jisung x afab.gf!reader
{ Genre } - NSFW; s/f/d(dark)*, PWP, established relationship
{ Synopsis } - Your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat.
{ WC } - 2.9k
{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, *forced orgasm/slight dubcon if you squint, everything is consensual but there is begging for more when reader might be at her limit so that's why I'm including dubcon (for those who may find it triggering)*, use of pet names (baby, angel, mine, my love, good girl & Ji), very lowkey needy/soft dom & romantic sub dynamic, worshipping reader, oral (f. recieving), squirting, overstimulation, unprotected piv (do as I say & not as I write, pee after sex too!), creampie, cum feeding & eating, fingers in mouth, pussy worship, I may just have gotten carried away with oral fixations okay? FORGIVE ME.
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.
{ A/N } - I originally was going to post a Hyunjin oneshot next, but I wanted to finish this one in time for Jiji's birthday! It's 2 am on the 14th where I am heheh. Hopefully you all like it. Han producing music will always be hot asf for me personally lmao. Barely proofread.
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The air was cool, seeping underneath your long wool coat. In any other circumstance, on a late fall night, the coat would be enough to keep the chill out. Today however, it wouldn't. But you still kept walking, determined to make it to Jisungs studio. 
You focused on the clicking of the heels on the boots you wore. And the sound of the wind picking up, signalling a blustery night ahead. The small sounds calm your nerves. 
You were anxious about Jisung's reaction, he was in one of his moods again. You understand, you truly do. Juggling everything he has to on his plate, it was no easy feat. There were times he'd just let that dark veil take over, and shut everyone out without even meaning to. 
You knew he was in that state again when you hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. It wasn't for lack of effort on your end either. Every phone call sent to voicemail, every text sent by you was met with the same response;
'At the studio, I'll text you after, angel'.
You knew it was time for intervention when Chan texted you that he was only coming home, at 2 in the morning no less, to shower and change. No eating, no resting, just back to the studio afterwards.
This had happened twice before in the almost year you've been dating. Each time you remember talking with him afterwards, he always said the same thing;
'making music is my stress relief.'
That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also a workaholic. One who easily gets lost in the creative space he has built a career off of. And once that diligence sets in, it's hard to shake off. 
So here you are, ready to try a new approach. Ready to offer a new kind of relief. An alternative. 
You and Jisungs sex life was far from boring. Far from infrequent, you'd say too. But it surely was more... monotonous. You'd never complain about it, and neither would he. There was nothing wrong with it. It just happened at the 'perfect' times in your relationship. 
Before bed, after date nights, on monthly anniversaries, to express massive amounts of love, etc. 
It was never to celebrate happiness, calm anger, or comfort sadness. Never to relieve stress. 
You were determined to change that. There was no reason you could not help him in any way you could. And in this aspect, you knew you could. 
Still, you were nervous. This would be new, he never did well with new. 
Your footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of the wind in your ears. Until you pressed your badge against the card reader, listening to the beeps, to the gears unlock. 
Once inside the lobby, the clinking of your heels against the vinyl tile filled your ears. Each step matches the thumping in your heart, you find yourself speed walking.
 You smiled and gave a little wave to the staff in the lobby, and they returned it. 
In the elevator, the sound of its melodic music filled your ears next. The whirring background noise the machinery made, stopped, as you reached your desired floor. 
There was silence when you stepped off. The flooring is carpeted now, and soundproof rooms lined the hallway leaving the night quiet. 
You took a deep breath and made your way to the door you knew was your boyfriend's. It was unlocked, thankfully. 
You let yourself in, seeing the silhouette of your boyfriends back facing the door in the blue lighting. 
He was all about ambiance in this facet of life, having LED's lining the ceiling. The only source of light in the room, besides the glowing screens of his monitors. 
He was sat in his chair, headphones on, hood up, head nodding in tandem with his fingers tapping. 
You took the opportunity to slide your boots off. Opting to keep your coat on, you brushed your hair over one shoulder. You took your badge from around your neck, and tossed it on the leather couch that was against the wall. 
Padding your way over to him, you place your hand on his shoulder lightly. He tenses under your touch, and turns his head. He's frowning when he first faces you, eyebrow furrowed together. 
When he sees you though, he softens. The corners of his mouth slightly upturning to a small smile. 
"Baby..." He whispers, sliding his head phones off. Soft lofi music is filling the room from them. 
He grabs your hand off his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to your palm, and placing it on his cheek. 
"It's late my angel, why are you here?" He says in a husky voice with more volume. 
Your heart flutters at his gentleness, and you bend down to press your own lips to the top of his head. A musky, yet spicy vanilla scent fills your nostrils. His scent. 
"I'm here to help you baby." You murmur to him softly. 
That caught his attention. He fully swivelled around to face you, taking both of your hands in his. He gazed up into your eyes, a curious look on his face. 
You smiled down on him, feeling nothing but love for this man. You'd relax him in any way you can. You placed a hand on each side of his face, bending down again. No more words were said as you kissed him. As your hands slid down his neck, his found themselves on yours, pulling you closer to him. Matching your eagerness.
You let your hands fully slide off him, and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Your trembling fingers were working the buttons on your coat. One by one, releasing the fabric from your bare skin. 
You stood up, letting the coat fall from your shoulders.
Jisung lets out a soft gasp, and licks his lips. 
Exposed to him, was his favorite lingerie you owned. It was a bra and panty set, satin and lace. Revealing. 
All white. 
Your boyfriends favorite part. He always said that the contrast against your melanated skin was a work of art. He joked about commissioning Hyunjin, if he didn't have to see you essentially naked.
So here you stood before him, presenting yourself to him. Silently willing him to do as he pleases. To take your body and use you to decompress. You were too nervous to say it.
He traces the swell of your breast with a finger, curving around the delicate lace. It's a simple touch, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps blooming on your skin. 
"So sexy." He mumbles, eyes roving your whole body. 
He stands up, kissing you desperately, and walking you back to the couch. Your knees hit the back of it, and you're forced to sit. Lips ripping away from his, panting at the desire in his eyes. 
All your nerves were gone. New or not, it would never change the fact that Jisung craved you as much as you craved him. 
He held himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, and hovered above you for a moment looking you in the eyes. 
Then he was sinking to the ground, on his knees, between your legs. His hands smooth over your thighs, making them pliant with soft kisses, before he spreads them open. Your pussy is glistening behind the lace, and he licks his lips again. 
His hand glides from your thigh, to your heat. Thumb brushing against that sensitive bud, the friction eliciting a whine from you. 
His eyes snap up to you, and he holds your gaze as his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core. The tip of it flicking deliciously against your sensitive clit. 
"Mmmm..." He groaned at the taste of you, "All for me?"
You moan at his tongue swiping against you again, and again, "All for you, my love." 
His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, and he peels them off you. He's whimpering, watching as strings of your arousal stick to them. The cool air is hitting your sex, before puffs of hot air from his mouth is. And you're shivering again at the sensation. 
A gasp escapes you when his tongue slides between your folds. Lapping up your juices, and suckling at that bundle of nerves. You listen to the wet sounds his mouth is making against you, along with the broken melody coming from his head set. You get lost in it. 
Your hand finds his hair, and you're grinding against his mouth. He's whimpering and moaning with you, one hand palming at his bulge. The other has fingers teasing your entrance. 
You let out a loud moan when two fingers push into you, and your grasp on his hair loosens. He takes the opportunity to get air, panting, mouth hanging open. His cheeks, chin and lips all shine in the dull blue light. 
His fingers continue to pump into you as he watches your face contort for him. He's smiling with lidded eyes, basking in the fact that he's making you feel so good. 
"Ji..." You moan, needing more.
"My beautiful baby, let me worship you a little longer." And he's diving back down.
His tongue focuses on your clit, and fingers coaxing that gummy spot inside you. He's pulling moan after moan from you, making out with your lower lips, bringing you closer to the edge. Your thighs start trembling around his head, and he has to grip the fleshy part of one of them to stop you from squeezing him before he's finished. 
You're spilling over the edge, body alight and your release coating his fingers, and face. He's lapping up every little bit, determined to taste your pleasure on his tongue. Only when you start to whine from constant overstimulation does he stop. 
He's kissing his way up to your lips, leaving a wet trail behind him that you couldn't bring yourself to care about. 
You're not sure when he managed to discard his pants and boxers, but you feel his hard, bare length pressing against your inner thigh. 
He's rubbing his member against your pussy now, letting your slick and his saliva cover him. Kissing your neck as he's rocking against you, he whispers, "Angel, do you have another one for me?"
Of course you did, you knew you did. You needed to feel him, you needed to please him. So you started nodding fervently, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he sucked lightly near your ear and jaw. 
He had a grasp of his cock now, dragging the head through your folds with added pressure. Each squelch of your juices sounds like music to your ears, anticipation building in your body.
"'Gonna make you feel s'good." He's whining into your neck. 
He has your legs around him now, as he fills you slowly, both of you savoring the sensations it brings. Your pussy spasms around him, and it has him grunting. 
"Always feel so good squeezin' me..." He mumbled, letting you adjust, "...exactly what I needed..." 
Then he was pumping into you, and you felt it. All the frustrations he was holding onto, all the stress, all the vexation. He was translating it into the energy he used to pleasure you. Letting go of it all. 
You couldn't hear the soft lofi music coming from his head set anymore, instead the slapping of skin and heavy breathing mixed with moans were filling the room. You'd never be more thankful for a soundproof space. Neither of you were holding back. 
Your moans only being interrupted by quiet curses, and his being peppered in between praises of how good you feel for him. He made it known he was chasing your high before his, begging you to cum for him. 
"Please angel," he whispers against your lips, "need to feel you cumming on my cock."
His pace became quicker as he kissed you, and his hand slithered down to play with your clit. Your back arched off the couch at that, angling him deeper inside you. He groaned, and his thrusts faltered for a second indicating he was close. 
Regardless he was determined to finish you, and his tone grew more demanding, "Be a good girl... cum for me, angel."
And that was all your body and mind needed to let go, legs locking around him and body shaking. Your hands slid under his hoodie, and nails dug into his back. It was the kind of intense orgasm, that your moan got stuck in your throat, instead a rough growl coming out. 
You sounded absolutely feral for him, and you were. 
That was what pushed him over the edge, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered. With a final harsh thrust, he cums deep inside you. All of the negativity has dispersed from his body, and he collapsed back to his knees. 
You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. You jolt when you feel his fingers in your folds, over sensitivity taking over yet again. He's spreading you open, hypnotized by the way his cum is drooling out of you. 
"So perfect, fuck." He says as he drags his finger through it. 
He's bringing it up to your lips, and your mouth opens instinctively. You're sucking his finger into your mouth, his essence salty but familiar on your tongue. 
His eyes are locked to yours as you work his finger, licking it clean. He slips a second finger in your mouth, letting you cover them in your saliva before he dips back down for a taste himself. 
You're whining around his fingers when his tongue glides against your clit, and your hips try to retract into the couch. Quickly, he has both hands on your hips, securing you in place so he can continue tasting you. 
"We taste so good together, my love..." He's mumbling against you. 
His words will never fail to coax submission out of you.
Your hand flies back to his hair, as good as it feels you're trying to pull him away. He's just burying his face deeper, tongue dipping into your entrance to make sure he's tasting everything. 
"Ji... s'too much... I can't-" You're pleading, even though you feel yourself succumbing to the overwhelming brushes of his tongue.
He hisses when you finally succeed in pulling him off you, "Please angel," He's begging again, "Just one more. I know you have one more for me." 
"Fuck, Ji, I-" 
He silences you with his tongue flat against you, another lick up to your clit "Please, need to hear you cumming one more time for me." He whines and starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your pussy. 
You always knew he was more of a giver. That even though it was you who had cum twice, and he only once. He preferred it that way. Even if he was the one needing the release more, he thrived more on your pleasure.
"Just be gentl-" You try to say, but cut yourself off with a groan. 
He's eagerly slurping at your core. Lost in the moment, all he has is your pussy on his mind now. Messily licking and lapping at every inch. He's shaking his head and moaning into it, keeping you pinned in place by your hips. 
You feel another orgasm starting to build quickly, clenching around nothing. He risks you bucking your hips roughly into his face, and takes a hand off your hip. He's pushing two fingers into you yet again, and you're seeing stars. 
His fingers curl, and his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly. You feel your release slip away from you, and your cumming on his face again. Yelling his name. He only grows more determined.
He leans back so he can watch the beautiful, writhing, mess he reduced you to. The thumb of his other hand is replacing his mouth, continuously flicking your bud. He doesn't slow his movements as you ride out your orgasm, instead picking them up. 
Your world turns white, and you feel yourself squirt on his hands. He's watching you in awe, whispering more praise for you as your juices spray over him. 
"So fucking sexy, my good girl."
"That's it, let go for me, let it all go."
"Knew you had one more in you, all for me."
"My perfect angel."
It's when you start to slip into that floaty space that he finally stops. He doesn't want you too gone, he's limited in the care he can provide here.
He's positioning you to lay on the couch, and he's laying behind you. You're both wet and sticky, and heaving for air. Yet, it's blissful. 
You lay there for what could've been minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. You were content in each other's touch. Your arm reaches back to caress his head, fingers combing through his hair. He's humming. 
"I love you." You finally murmur. 
"I love you more, angel. Thank you for this." He says, and kisses your shoulder. 
"You caught on quickly to my idea." You giggled.
He laughed with you, "I caught on halfway through it, actually. I was just beside myself with desire for you." 
You blushed at that, and you were thankful he couldn't see it. 
"I mean you showed up in my favorite set..." He whispers and starts toying with the lace on your bra, his finger slipping underneath to flick your nipple, "In ONLY my favorite set. How could I not show you how much I admire you." 
You felt his length harden against you again, and he rolled his hips slowly as he gripped your hip. 
You knew the night was far from over. 
As for how you were both going to escape and clean up? Well that was a problem for future you. 
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@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale
As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡
But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.
611 notes · View notes
Note
MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!
Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.
So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …
So What did I do
I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).
During the Day
https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV
https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT
During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!
Overnight
https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH
https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1
What I Manifested
- Master shifting abilities
- Master void state abilities
- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven
- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.
I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.
I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.
My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!
I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖
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blood-teeth · 19 days
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"...and, at the end of it all, this is the truth of you. The truth of your ruinous, shaky hands. The truth of you whole, de-fleshed, flayed. Your bones are harbingers, your fingers methods of decay. You are the mouthpiece for death. You remember the Bhagavad Gita and I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Look at me, you say, I am Time itself, and I must one day destroy your world as I have always done. 
In the light of a long dead star, the last astronaut wakes up. After six decades, the worst has come to pass. The earth is dead, the sun has gone, and the mission to find a new, viable home has failed. There are no more horizons for humanity.
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This Grave Calls You Home is a sci-fi thriller set in space after humanity is forced to leave Earth's ravaged surface following nuclear devastation and an environmental collapse. You play as an ER nurse aboard the NEW HORIZON, an immense space station courtesy of THE COALITION OF THE LAST FRONTIER. This colossal facility, a self-contained city in orbit, houses the remnants of humanity. And it is here that your days pass in monotony, caring for the irradiated people born from Earth and the critically ill, trying your best to survive the relentless demands of the Emergency Room and your own deteriorating mental health. When a patrol flagship discovers the ARCADIA-II - a long-forgotten relic from humanity's past - and finds within slumbers an astronaut who had failed at delivering humanity from destruction, the routine of your life is throughly interrupted. As the mystery of the ARCADIA-II and PROJECT ODYSSEY unfold, you learn that your part in this could mean humanity's salvation.
Or you could be its extinction.
YOU WILL LIKE THIS IF YOU LIKE: - INTERSTELLAR - THE LOCKED TOMB SERIES - BLADERUNNER - HEAVEN WILL BE MINE - TIME TRAVEL AND TIME LOOPS - GHOST STATION - ALIEN
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THE LAST ASTRONAUT(M/F 25)- ALEX STERN "...my love, i no longer know what it is to be warm." The lone ranger, the last star. The failure of deliverance. Feel their breath against yours, cup their ribcage into your hands to feel the long, dead beat of their heart. You know them, you know them. You swear you do.
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THE SCIENTIST (F 23) - OPHELIA VALDEZ "...in the wake of dawn," she says, "it has only ever been you." The General's daughter and the brightest mind the world has ever seen. You brush your fingers along the bone of her brow and marvel at her atoms meeting yours. maybe science is religion, you think. maybe you will bend and lick and worship her taste on your mouth.
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THE ENGINEER (THEY/THEM 24) - PUCK GOODFELLOW "is that your real name?" "no," they smile. "nothing has ever been mine own. i belong to you. give me a new name. give me a new life. i am yours." The scent of engine oil and gritted teeth. Place your mouth against their neck and taste the blood of a covenant past. They hold you in their palms; you feel the promise of something greater, something before.
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THE BOTANIST (M/F 25) - CAIA / CAIUS CAIN "i am no good at words. i'm good in the dirt and the roots and the trees. darling, you've been in everything i touch." the cool touch of water, liberation at their smile. Take the bite and know what it means to become. Dig your hands deep, deep in the earth and feel what it means to love.
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THE MAJOR (TRANS M 27) - JONATHAN STERN "i have given my life to duty, to sacrifice, to obligation. i wish to give it to you, now, instead. it has been an honor serving you." A past marked by violence made by hands meant to touch. To soothe. He holds you tight against his chest and if you close your eyes you can still smell the smoke. He holds you like an apology. Like a prayer.
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DEMO (coming soon!) - PLAYLIST - FAQ
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harrysonlylover · 2 months
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Patience Is A Virtue*
Summary: In which he finds a road between punishment and pleasure.
Trope: CEO!Harry
Warnings: usage of sex pills, edging, usage of toys, anal, mastubration.
WC:4.1k
A/n: Just a reminder that this is an old writing and I tried to edit as much as I could.
Masterlist
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Harry sat in his home office, his fingers tapping on the keyboard and body relaxed in sweatpants and a white cotton shirt rather than a suffocating but of course stylish suit. That is what he considers the perks of working from home.
Every two weeks he grants his entire company a vacation of two days, whether they work in the company building itself, the factory, or in shipments and delivery services, every single employee is awarded a break. Not even security guards work, instead the building gets activated with advanced security methods: a laser security system, sensors, and Pleasing robots designed specifically for protection.
He is supposed to be resting, but he is far too enthusiastic to do that. Harry understands the importance of breaks very well if he was overtiring himself, he wouldn’t be doing this right now.
He is preparing a report concerning the plug he experimented with Y/n earlier last month during their little role-play incident. It is by far one of the best products he ever invented and he smirks knowing she is the muse behind it.
Each time they had sex, she’d whine and pout when he pulls out, even when he comes inside her or tucks himself in all night, she’d wake up irritated because he slipped out due to her wetness and his cum as lubricants.
That boosted his ego, it really did. He thought of Y/n as his amazing girl who was obsessed with his cock just as much as he is in love with her sweet cunt. And well, for her he’d do anything.
He is almost done with the report, he only needs to send it to the lab and then plan a meeting with the board for advertising purposes. He glances at the clock which indicates it’s half past two.
He moves around the room, stretching his muscles to release the knots from the uncomfortable seating then heads to see where Y/n is. She’s been quiet this whole time. Too quiet.
His feet guide him to the kitchen where an empty cereal bowl lays unwashed. Odd, he thinks. She hates messy areas.
She can’t be working out since they have a gym routine together that most of the time ends with sweaty sex. Perhaps she was doing some yoga, and God he worships the body it gave her.
He makes his way up the stairs, to their shared bedroom and finds the door half open with low unusual sounds sounding from inside.
He peaks his head in slowly and supports his hand on the wall to find Y/n laid back against the sheets, one hand holding a Pleasing vibrator to her cunt and the other roaming between her breasts, as she touches her body reaching her clit.
He is already hardening inside his pants, his cock straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, it’s like her arousal and need for pleasure calls for his.
He loves that she enjoys discovering her body and experiencing the bliss of orgasms, her soft skin shuddering when she cums and her puffy cunt spasming around nothing.
Harry backs away from the door feeling himself go through many emotions, he loves the way she pleasures herself; he can’t be upset about that yet he aches to be the one to provide it.
At least he’d want to be there while she does it, guide her through it, and tease her. Perhaps she assumed he was too indulged in that report and he really was, but his mind is always with her.
He cooks up something inside his head, not a punishment but both a patience and pleasure test.
He slowly goes down the stairs, into his office, and closes the door behind him.
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Y/n stared at the messy kitchen that was left after their breakfast, Harry had locked up in his office since the morning but she couldn’t complain. He said it would take a few hours only then he’d spend the entire day with her doing whatever her heart desires.
The kisses he left on her collarbone still linger as her necklace (his initials) grazes against her bare neck.
“When did I ever lie to you? I promise it’s only a couple of hours, do what you like, and when I’m done whatever your heart desires will happen.” Harry mumbled quickly leaning in to leave wet kisses starting from the curve of her breasts, softly pecking her nipple as he moved up to her collarbone, groaning at the sight of his initial.
“I know but I’ll just miss you.” She swiped her fingers through his curls, feeling her heart shudder from his kisses.
“If it gets too much, come to me and sit in my lap, I’m never busy for you.”
He is everything she could ever ask for.
After he left, she did some yoga and listened to songs but soon enough she found herself needing him in other ways.
She rarely resorted to her fingers and vibrator but desperate times call for desperate measures, if she teased her fiancée now, he’d fuck her all day long till they pass out and wake up tomorrow with a sex hangover.
She returned to her bed where the sheets were still messy and tangled, and fetched her vibrator from the secret room attached to the bedroom that’s designed for extreme pleasure. But that’s for other times.
She managed to get two mind-blowing orgasms, the aftermath was weird though. She felt more achy than before, it’s like her cunt knew nothing will suit it except her fiancée’s cock.
She clenched her thighs together and realized that a third orgasm would be pointless unless given to her by Harry. She put everything back in place and distracted her mind with cleaning up and an episode of a documentary. He must be done by now.
She decided to wait for him as she could feel herself experiencing symptoms of sex deprivation or should she call it withdrawals from not having his cock?
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Harry shut down his laptop with an audible sigh, the excitement of playing with Y/n added to that of the initial one revolving around finishing the report.
He can hear the faint sound of the TV as he steps inside their living room, Y/n’s head is pushed back against the cushions, and her legs are across the table.
“So what are you up to?” He stood behind her and began massaging her shoulders, making her choke on popcorn.
“Just a random documentary.” She managed to mutter trying to ignore the way his hands felt against her skin.
“Really? I’m not sure that’s what you were doing a while ago, using the very same product I designed to get off.” He whispered in her ear as his hands shifted to her neck, slowly rubbing at her skin.
Her breath got caught in her throat—he saw her? Not that she was trying to hide it, but she wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it.
“I asked you something dove.” He pressed at her neck tilting her head backwards as she met up with his face.
“Hmm, you were busy, if I told you, you wouldn’t have finished that report.”
“Fair point, but here’s what love, I cooked up something for us.” He trailed his finger down to her chest, removing the straps of her top before touching her bare breasts.
“Not a punishment, can’t say I’m a fan of these.” Her skin was covered in goosebumps as he pressed his lips to her temple.
“It’s a game of patience and pleasure, you couldn’t handle waiting for me, but you’re still wet, I can smell it. So let’s add intolerance?” His finger was circling her perky nipples, giving them a slow pinch and a tender massage.
Harry is big on pleasure and testing out each other’s limits, he loves exploring his sexual life, but the plot twist is that she does too. Like a match made in hell.
“Did you eat after breakfast?” He asked caressing her cheek.
“Hmm I did, had a bowl of fruits.”
“Atta girl, I’m going to get something that we’ve done before but in a different way, if you don’t want to tell me immediately.” She nodded as he gave her a last kiss before heading off to their bedroom.
“And strip down, I want nothing on your body.” He ordered before disappearing inside.
She smirked knowing this was what she wanted, to play all day, he already promised to do what she desired and he was doing it despite not telling him. What a man she had.
He was right, she was still wet. Nothing can beat being fully naked as the breeze along with the sunlight from the window wraps her body in an embrace.
Harry returned with a grin planted on his face. He was also fully naked, walking around with his cock swinging, and tattoos on display.
“Nice ass.” She teased him as he filled up two cups of water.
“Thanks love, it loves your tongue.” He approached her and gave her the cup of water, revealing a pill in his hand.
Cheeky motherfucker.
It was a Pleasing sex pill.
“You’re in a mood today.” She took the pill, swallowing it down with a big gulp of water.
He did the same and placed both cups in the sink. He also brought a box with him, she assumed the sex hangover might last longer than a day.
She tried these pills once or twice before; they’re designed for both men and women by his scientists’ team. She never faced any problem with them, they helped her experience an immense amount of pleasure.
Harry helped her relax against the sofa in a nice position and proceeded in one of his routines.
Kissing her body.
His lips puckered against her right leg gently, up to her thigh where he kept prepping kisses, his mouth hovered over her wet cunt breathing it in and allowing his nose to graze the wetness before letting out a loud groan.
He placed a delicate kiss on her clit continuing to leave love bites on her inner thighs, up to her pelvis. Soft wet pecks to every inch of her skin, giving extra love to her pelvis and tummy because ‘his child will be there one day’.
He pushed her on her stomach to give her love from behind, he also managed to bite her ass cheek while at it and traced her back whilst loving on it, then hoisted you up again to resume his work on your chest.
He went at it slowly to not forget or ignore any inch, from left to right with his cupid-shaped mouth, and hand roaming between her thighs rubbing at them up and down.
“My woman’s perfect body, so divine.”
“I love this— a goddess is what you are.”
“You’re my person, and this body is what I worship.”
“I can’t believe you’re mine, I’m so blessed, aren’t I?”
“The great gods sculpted your body, and I get to love on it.”
“My woman, my lady, my fiancée, my lover, let me kiss your body every day please.”
He mumbled against her skin, sentence after sentence nonstop till he reached her breasts and fondled them giving them extra love. He littered her neck with love bites, till they looked like big bruises.
Eventually, he hid his face in the crook of her neck allowing his hand to rest on her hip. She kissed his face exchanging ‘I love you’ as she waited for the pill to kick in or so she thought.
“I have a feeling that the pill is for something else.”
“You’re a minx, you know that?” He lifted himself off the sofa and left her lying down as he glanced at the clock to see that it had been 20 minutes since they took the pill.
He propped himself down on the sofa facing her and the grin on his face told her that her sentimental man was gone, and his devilish side was out
“Here’s what darling, before we begin, you’re not allowed to touch yourself. The pill will kick in now and I want to watch you squirm around, helpless and wet. Just a tolerance test yeah?”
His arms were stretched widely showing his biceps, his cock was erect reaching his stomach and his plump thighs were a sight.
“You’re going to watch me touch myself because I have to compensate for the orgasm you had without me.”
Her face flushed red upon hearing him. He wants to edge her till she’s shaking, she’s done that before but not with a pill that makes her horny in ungodly ways.
“Hey H, that’s not fair.” She whined feeling the effect of the pill begin.
“Open your legs facing me, I want to see your cunt.” She did as told, groaning at the neediness that was rising out of her pussy.
Harry’s cock was not only erect and red thanks to the pill but leaking precum too and engorged with veins. It looked painful.
He wrapped a hand around his shaft, moaning loudly at the feeling before spitting on the head and moving slowly from the base to the tip.
“How does it feel to see me touching myself? It feels so good with the pill, I’m edging myself too you know? I could be buried inside your warm pussy now.” He spoke as he panted, his curls covering his face and his abs contracted as his whole body tensed at the teasing.
“Harry this isn’t funny, just fuck me.” She squirmed around, digging her nails into the cushions as the subtle breeze blowing at her cunt felt like torture.
He didn’t listen to her, only smirked and kept going, gritting his teeth at the feeling of his precum sliding all over his cock. He picked up some on his finger bringing it to his mouth sucking them off as he held eye contact with her.
“You honestly look like a cat in heat and I love it.” He thrusted faster and spread his legs wider to give her a clear view of his cock.
“Poor baby, about to pass out because she needs her man’s cock. Is that what you want me to do? To stick it in and relieve you?” He teased even more with a grin, she was drooling at his cock that was so erect and she could feel her wetness dripping.
All the blood was rushing to her clit that’s now engorged and swollen, it hurts. He was right, she felt like she was in heat, aching and urging to hump on something, anything for some friction.
Her breath was unsteady and her whole body was heating up as she whined on and on, swaying her legs from side to side and getting shouted at if she closed them together.
“What a pretty puffy pussy, so sensitive and all for me, it’s waiting for my cock. That’s all it needs all day, for me to keep fucking and using it.” He whimpered as he gripped his cock harshly before arching his back and cumming all over his hand and thighs.
He released a big load, covering his whole shaft in white glistening cum as he pushed his head back in ecstasy and breathed heavily.
She almost drooled at the amount of cum, she wanted to suck it all off him and swallow it down her throat. The pain was getting unbearable—her cunt was clenching and pulsating.
“Look at your tight pussy, opening up and clenching inviting my cock in. No wonder you’re a cockslut.” He walked over to her with his hand still wrapped around his leaking shaft.
He gathered some of the cum on his hand then smeared them all over her cunt and slapped her clit before spitting on it.
He watched her pussy pulsate and his cum drip all over it reaching her asshole. He proudly strolled around to the box pulling out her plug.
“Harry just fuck me come on.” She begged as the pill’s effect was getting more and more painful.
He went down on his knees in front of her, stretching his tongue out and lowering it down as he kept eye contact with her. He barely let the tip of his tongue graze her cunt then smirked and shifted to her asshole.
Teasing and edging was all he did.
His tongue massaged her second hole before pouring a generous amount of lube on it, the cold gel made her jolt since her whole body was warm, he then gently inserted her plug inside as she whimpered at the stretch.
Harry lifted Y/n off the couch with his hand around her throat and pulled her mouth into a heated kiss. “Get on your knees and suck your fiancée’s cum, only lick it off nothing more.”
She immediately did as she was told, feeling the burn of the rug on her knees as she wrapped a hand around his shaft initiating a broad lick from the base to the tip. His cum slid on her tongue as she gathered all of it, leaving his cock shining with its remnants.
“Swallow all of it but share some with me.” She stood up on her feet as he helped her to balance herself wrapping an arm around her waist before joining her lips in a kiss filled with tongue clash and an exchange of his cum.
“Such a good girl.” He pressed a peck to her cheek, then her temple, and checked with her safe word.
He led her to the sofa where he ordered her on all fours, her eyes were welling with tears from the amount of neediness.
He removed the plug resulting in her whining loudly at the emptiness and grabbed the bottle of lube again to squirt some on his hand, making sure to give her hole a good massage and fingering before thrusting his cock inside.
When it came to anal, he pushed in one swift motion because he knew she loved the initial burn of it, he also knew deep down that she was a slut for anal.
He brought her body up to his chest securing it with an arm around her waist, she held on to his pumped bicep as she moaned feeling his other hand cup she cunt with the cold metal of the rings riling her up even more.
“I want you to stay still, a whore like you will hump my hand which is why I won’t let you move. Just take my cock inside your ass like a good slut.”
She tilted her head backward against his shoulder as he began plunging in vigorously, the stretch of his cock in her ass made her see stars, she reached the highest level of pleasure especially with his large veined hand cupping her pussy not allowing the poor thing to breathe.
A deep tight feeling in her lower abdomen settled in the more he plunged. She brought his hand to her throat and guided him to manhandle her.
“Dumb whore can’t even speak, do you want me to choke you?”
She squeezed at his biceps earning a growl from him. “Ah I see, you want me to choke you with my muscles, you get off the fact that I can manhandle you the way I want and that I’m bulky yeah?”
He brought his bicep near her throat and choked her just enough to turn her on, the position she was in made it seem as if he was strangling her, but it was quite the opposite. It felt even better than his hand, despite how much she loved his rings leaving bruises around her skin.
“All of this and you’re still dripping over my hand, made it soaking wet. What do I do with you hmm?” She smiled at him as a form of defiance since no matter what—even she can’t control her cunt around him.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I bet you’re ready to take my cock in your ass and pussy all day.”
“That’s the plan.”
He slapped her clit, hitting it with his rings making her jolt against him as her bundle of nerves was so swollen. Her eyes rolled backward while he kept itching that one spot in her hole.
“That’s it yes please fuck my ass.”
He moved his hand to her hip forcing her to keep still with a grip so tight it’ll leave bruises around her skin. He thrusted in a primal way and he was breathing against her ear igniting goosebumps in your body.
Their naked bodies were flushed against each other, skin to skin, and she could feel the room fill up with the scent of sweat and sex.
“Fuck I’m cumming, where do you want it?” He asked breathing heavily as she felt his cock twitch inside her.
“Inside please.”
“Knew you’d say that. It’s what good sluts want, besides the way your little hole is pulling me inside tells me what I need to know.” He bit into her shoulder growling audibly while his hips stilled as he emptied his cum inside her ass.
“H—harry ohh” She closed her eyes as his cum filled her up, rope after rope while her ass swallowed it all up taking it in. Her pussy pulsated harder around his hand, he can even feel it beating loudly and sense how warm and snug it was.
The bite mark he left made her whine since she loved a little pain and branding during sex. He prepped kisses against her skin while they both came down from a mind-blowing orgasm.
He slowly helped Y/n to lay on her stomach before pulling out, allowing a load of cum to drip down her thighs and cover his entire shaft.
He rubbed at her ass diving in to lick what leaked as she gripped the cushions tightly feeling so overstimulated. His tongue meeting her rim made her scream so he pulled away licking his mouth to savor the taste.
Harry inserted the plug again and she felt it go deep inside as his cock stood proudly against his stomach at the sight of a plug designed according to his initial ‘H’.
He was foaming at the mouth.
His initial plug in her ass, a bite mark on her shoulder, bruises over her hips and waist, his release deep inside her, shaky legs, and tears on her face.
He loved some branding too.
“No cum gone to waste in this household.” He lay beneath her on the sofa wrapping her around him as he kissed her head and wiped her tears. He rubbed her back soothingly and intertwined their legs together, with soft pecks to her lips.
“Harry?”
“Yes, my dove.”
“Will you fuck my pussy pretty please?” She earned a deep chuckle from him as he lifted himself and smiled at her.
“You still want me to use your cunt?” She nodded at him while he gave her puppy eyes.
He hoisted himself up on his elbows and strolled to the kitchen, she enjoyed the view of his naked body, saving it to herself. Maybe they should have a nude photoshoot on their film camera.
He returned with a cup of water and a protein bar urging her to have them or ‘no fucking’. She took both of them as she slowly restored her energy trying not to think about the unbearable ache in her lower abdomen.
She walked around a bit to stretch yourself while Harry relaxed on the sofa with his legs spread and cock miraculously still erect. She noticed the box he got still laying on the table, she skimmed it for anything fun laying her hands on a cock ring.
She brought it with her and showed it to Harry whose face shined at its sight. “You want to control my cock inside your pussy.”
“Hmm I do, wanna feel it vibrate against my walls.”
She helped him put it on and snatched its remote from the box trying not to get down on her knees again at the sight of your fiancée all spread out on the couch, waiting for her to ride him.
“Plug check.” He ordered her, making her turn around, as he hummed an approval before spanking her and dropping her on his lap.
“Now let my cock choke with that warm cunt of yours, will ya?”
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thee-horny-thicky · 10 months
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upper moons *incuding muzan* with a fem S/O who has a hyper sensitive pussy???
The Upper Moons with a Sensitive S/O
Before I begin, I'd like to say the Upper Moons has no business being so fine. Like, after writing this, I'm so tempted to write a gangbang fic 😭
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Gyutaro:
Starting from the bottom, we have Gyutaro, since he’s the reason he and Daki are upper moons. Chances are, you met him when you became employed at the brothel Daki worked at, and he was quickly enamored with you. He’d watch in the shadows as other men enjoyed your cunt, fascinated with the sounds you made, and with how responsive you were. Your moans and whimpers had an authenticity that the other women lacked, and it didn’t take long to figure out why. You were a sensitive little thing, and all it took were fingers rubbing over your clit to make you soaked.  Gyutaro took note of the things that made you scream and memorized the fastest way to make you come. He knew he wasn’t a looker—at least in his eyes—and that he was scary to most humans. So, he’d make up for his lack of looks by learning to please you.
Surely, he could get you off better than those creeps that pay to fuck you.
When he finally gets his hands on you—I’ll let you decide the method—he’s testing everything that he learned. He’d start off tame, rubbing your pretty pussy with his fingers until you came. It didn’t take long, and that was a huge boost to his ego. Then, he’d crawl between your legs and lap up your juices, shoving his tongue inside you and then angling it upward to stimulate your G-spot, his sharp teeth scraping your clit. He’d quickly grow addicted to your taste and stay between your legs for a while. Only when his hard-on became too bothersome to ignore would he impale you with his length, drawing another orgasm out of you by the time he bottomed out.
By the time he’s done ravishing your cunt, you’d barely remember your name.
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Gyokko:
I would like to use this moment to say that I found Gyokko’s true form finer than I wanted to admit, so that’s what I’m basing this on. And, his true form has big hands, which he’d happily use on you. He’d get off on seeing how many of his fingers your sensitive cunt could handle, laughing as you started to whine about it being too much. Instead of it being a deterrent, he’d continue fingerfucking your stuffed pussy, teasing you as you come all over his hand.
But his fingers aren’t the only way he’d get you off.
 His cock happened to disappear when he became a demon, and the location of his mouths are too inconvenient to get you off.  But worry not, because his hands aren’t the only option, as he had rippling abs. He’d encourage you to rock yourself against his rock-hard abdomen, giggling maniacally when you orgasm just from grinding against him.
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Hantengu:
 So, this man basically has split personalities, and each one will treat your sensitive pussy differently from the others. But for the sake of brevity, I’ll speak about what they all have in common; they practically worship your cunt. It’s so easy to get you riled up and knowing that they’re the cause of that slick dripping down your thighs is an ego boost to them all. Playing with you calms Sekido’s anger and fucking you nice and hard is a surefire way to put him at ease. Slurping up your juices makes Aizetsu feel twinges of joy, and he never feels happier than when you’re calling out his name. Urogi giggles like a maniac as he teases you. He’s mindful not to do too much, knowing how easily you come, forcing you to beg for the orgasm that you desperately need. And Karaku makes a game out of making you come as many times as possible. He likes to give himself a time limit to give you a certain number of orgasms. As the clock ticks, he’ll finger, lick, and fuck you to climax repeatedly, until you’re a sobbing, overstimulated mess.
Hantengu’s main form, Zohakuten, and Urami are not included. Zohakuten has the form of a child, Urami would be a pouty bastard as how easy it is for you to come, and inflict pain on you as a result, and Hantengu himself would be jumping and yelping the moment he sees your pussy, as it’s just too much for him to handle.
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Akaza:
First, let’s be clear. Whether you’re a demon or a human, this man will not let any of the other upper moons near you, especially Douma. You’re his woman. Not only does he want to protect you, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, and your sensitive cunt only makes him more possessive of you. Your pussy is magic to him, and he refuses to let anyone else experience it. You and what lies between your legs is his second chance at happiness, and he won’t let it go.
Moreover, he doesn’t think anyone else can please you as he can, and you only deserve the best.
This man lives to worship you, and when he’s not on a mission for Muzan or hunting, he’s likely caring for you. Caring for you obviously includes fucking you, and bringing you orgasm after orgasm.  He’ll treat you like the most precious thing in the world, and making you feel good is his way of showing how much he adores you.
Akaza refuses to eat women, but he’ll eat pussy like it’s his last meal. The taste of your juices is the sweetest thing to him, and only when you’re begging and pleading for him to stop does he cease licking your glistening folds and sucking on your swollen clit. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop. No, he’ll simply tongue your asshole, as human conventions don’t apply to him.
If that’s a little too much, he has no issue fucking you. His large size means you have to be well-stretched and lubricated to take him without pain, so unless you’re absolutely dripping, he’ll refuse to put his dick in you. Luckily, his oral skills and your sensitive pussy mean that’s an easy task to achieve. And once he’s pounding you into the mattress, you’ll be drooling, and cock drunk in record time.
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Douma:
The. Biggest. Menace. Douma can’t take shit seriously, and he’s strong enough to do what he wants without consequences. That includes fucking with you, no matter how much you protest. The moment he discovered how sensitive your pussy was, you’d never have a moment of rest. He enjoys seeing what can get you off and especially favors teasing you with his mouth. Greedy man he is, Douma has to taste your slick every day. He'll force you to starve off your orgasm for as long as possible, before suddenly switching to drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you. When you beg him to stop, one of three things will happen.
He’ll impale you with his length, the lubrication your previous orgasms provided making his large dick slide in with ease. How quickly you get cock drunk amuses him, and his stamina means you’ll be there for a while. When he’s done, he’d push his cum back into you.
He refocuses his attention on your ass, rimming and fingering your tight hole to compare how sensitive it is to your cunt. Your whines for him to stop only encourage him, and once he's done with his evaluation, he’ll fuck your loosened hole, before cleaning off and restarting the cycle all over again.
He’d push you to your knees and start using your mouth like a fleshlight, making you swallow every drop of his cum.
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Kokushibo:
Like Akaza, Kokushibo will guard you with his life, and keep you away from the other moons. He rarely shows himself, and he expects you to follow his lead. He values privacy for a multitude of reasons, and when you came along, playing with your pretty pussy became one of them. When you’re laid in front of him with your legs spread, Kokushibo has never been thankful for so many eyes. He’d savor the image of your throbbing clit and gleaming folds, the way you shudder as the cool air grazes your cunt driving him wild.
When it’s too much for him to bare, he’ll trail a finger along your slit, testing how wet you are, before pushing two fingers into your needy hole. As a swordsman, he’d be good with his hands, and have you coming undone quicker than normal.
 When he craves a test of you, he’ll bury his head between your thighs, keeping all eyes on you as he slurps up your juices. The faces you make as he unravels you with his mouth drive him wild, and it won’t take long until he’s putting you on all fours to fuck you, thrusting into you until your puffy folds are dripping with slick, before filling you up with his seed.
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Muzan:
Last but certainly not least, the mastermind behind it all, Muzan. Now, Muzan has an array of personalities and personas, but I’ll focus on his true form and his feminine form. Muzan, being the manipulative bastard he is, would employ tricks to keep your devotion. That includes rewarding and punishing you. You’re lucky he has a soft spot for you because he’d still want you to be intact, no matter how mad you make him. So, his punishment of choice is building up orgasm after orgasm, an easy feat considering how sensitive you are. After he’d spank you until your ass is red, he’d keep you laid over his lap and finger fuck you, ordering you to hold each climax until he tells you otherwise. If you disobey, Godspeed.
He'd spear you with his cock, fucking you fast and hard, forcing you to come on his dick over and over again. His position of choice is doggy, as he can easily spank you or switch to anal. If you’d been very bad, he has a whip in hand to flog your back as he splits you open. If he noticed you giving too much attention to another upper moon, he might just fuck you in front of them to assert dominance. He’d want them to know that your cunt is his, and just to prove that he'll cum in you. As your folds drip with his seed, he’d spread your lower lips so the inspiration of his jealousy could see that he’d marked you from the inside, slapping your puffy pussy as you whimper out complaints.
He tries to hide this fact, but he does feel pleasure in his feminine form. And yes, Fem!Muzan does have female anatomy. In this form, Muzan likes to experiment and is especially fond of 69 and scissoring. As you lap at Muzan’s cunt or rub yours against his, Muzan can understand how you unravel so easily, as something about his pussy being played with always makes him orgasm harder. He can also better understand how sensitive you get after coming. If he’s angry with you, he’ll use this knowledge against you. But if you’ve been a good pet, he’d go easy on you, and allow you to eat him out instead of playing with pretty cunt.
I hope this satisfies your curiosity 🥰
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delirious-donna · 5 months
Text
I Still Worship The Flame [Nanami Kento]
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an: thanks to @poohbea for putting this richly indulgent thought into my head about Kento having red marks from his harness when he takes it off… delicious (points for anyone that recognises the title)
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: soft smut, unprotected sex, body worship (kinda), mark marking
Masterlist
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You couldn’t help but stare. You were a woman, after all, and your husband was the finest specimen of man you had ever laid eyes on.
The hour was late, long had you been settled in the warm nest of your bed to await Kento’s return home. There was no fear in your heart, the mission had been a success with little to no damage taken. Your only annoyance that you hadn’t been there to help, but it was your day off and your husband would be damned to see you working when you should be resting.
Finally, you were roused from your thoughts by keys jingling, the front door being opened and closed and then a rattle of porcelain. You smiled, knowing that your husband was home, and his keys were in the small ceramic dish alongside your own set.
He appeared from the hallway that led to your bedroom, thick fingers rounding the edge of the door and pushing it open. Kento smiled, happy to see you despite the tiredness that tightened his eyes. “Honey, I’m home.” He joked with a chuckle caught in his throat.
“I can see that. Come to bed, Kento, the shower can wait until morning,” you pleaded, sitting up and gently tugging on his broad palm as he neared. He bent over your hand, kissing the knuckles tenderly. He turned to sit and brought your arm over his shoulder.
Kento sighed, exhaustion settling into his bones with every breath. “Perhaps. The mission might have ended in our favour, but it was still a long day,” he admitted. Slowly, he began to unbutton his shirt, the familiar yellow splattered tie already discarded by the laundry pile.
The smell of sweat permeated in the air, though it was far from off putting. This wasn’t the aroma of stale sweat and body odour, more so it was the fresh dewy sheen that would cling to his skin after an intense workout. It blended harmoniously with the notes of his favourite cologne—oud and leather. It brought you to your knees, shuffling down the bed towards him before standing and placing yourself between his spread legs. Would you ever not be immediately turned on by his mere presence and scent?
“Let me help you with that.”
Your hands traversed the broad expanse of his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath your palms until you were able to work the fastens of his harness. Kento grunted low in his throat when you tugged them loose with capable fingers, eyes low to watch you work, burning with appreciation and something else.
His shoulders flexed and rolled back when the harness loosened enough to allow the leather to slide down his arms and fall to the bed. It was hot to the touch, warmed by Kento’s furnace-like body and the exertion it had seen. The metal buckles clattered, and you hummed, moving it to the dresser but not before you fingered the strong yet yielding leather.
It did not go unnoticed.
You felt naked beneath his gaze, taking the few steps that brought you back between his thighs, his eyes low lidded and no longer looking quite as tired as they had before. His cock jumped in his boxers, slowly thickening at the close proximity of his loving wife, the woman he loved and cherished above all others.
His hands settled at your bare thighs, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your sleep shirt to indent the soft skin as you worked the buttons of his shirt open. The more he slowly—methodically—kneaded at your thighs and up to your hips, round to your full backside, the faster your heart beat in your chest.
Starchy royal blue shirt gave way to bare skin, a smattering of scars with lines of raised white served as reminder of the dangers of your shared profession. You had your own, though far less than Kento, and he paid his respect to them in the moments when you were naked beneath him. His kisses soft, tinged with the regret that he couldn’t prevent them, but acknowledging that you were still here and whole. The thought tightens your throat, shirt sleeves halfway down his arms and your eyes unable to focus on anything other than the marks that could have ended his life if his luck hadn’t held out.
“Hey. It’s okay… there are no new ones to add to the count,” he murmured in understanding, holding your jaw and tilting your chin up from where it had lowered into your chest. Nodding, you smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Kento kissed you. A soft whoosh left you, dragged into the warm depths of a kiss filled with reassurance and passion. His hand held the back of your head, fingers knotted in your hair, leading the charge to rid the melancholy that had stolen into the moment uninvited.
Coffee and lingering caramel from some long-eaten pastry infused on your tongue, accepting, and demanding more when you moaned and finished the job of dragging the sleeves of his shirt off his arms one at a time since he was unwilling to drop his hold on you entirely.
Before you realised it you were above him, working free the buckle of his belt then the zip on his trousers. Reaching between you to wrap around the continuing thickening of Kento’s cock, thumbing at the salty beads of precum to hear him groan out and for his eyes to roll over.
You needed him. You needed to be filled by and with him. To have every thought knocked askew by the pleasure only he could deliver. To worship at the altar of his body, chant prayers offered in thanks for the soul that had found yours and woven together until you didn’t know where he ended, and you began.
Without warning, Kento flipped you over and crawled over your body whilst pushing your sleepshirt up with one hand. His mouth was hot against your sternum, tongue sweeping towards your breasts and taking the nipple between his lips. He offered you a wicked smile, impressed by your feet that wiggled their way into the waist of his trousers and underwear to shove them down and down until they were around his knees. Only then did he release you, leaving your skin shiny with spit as he shucked out of his clothes and drew your thighs to your stomach only to spread them wide with an audible groan at the lack of underwear barring his view.
“Were you waiting up for this, sweetheart?” He asked, voice husky and knowing.
You knew he didn’t need an answer, but he would wait for one all the same. Wait until you gave him that satisfaction to know that any pleasure you could give yourself would never rival what he could draw from you. Kento could play you like a finely tuned instrument; he knew every key stroke and chord. He was a savant and what was worse—he knew it.
“Perhaps…” Your voice trailed away as your gaze lowered from his, finding it hard to keep the eye contact but falling straight into the trap of the red marks left by the harness he wore day in day out. Tracing the path that curved over his broad shoulder and disappeared behind his back, you knew that it moved towards the centre of his back where his knife would reside.
Unlike the scars, these marks had a habit of stirring something else within you, something far more primal and hungrier than was rational. Your fingertips blindly followed the indentations in his skin, blinking up to be met with eyes filled with a kindled fire. Flames leapt from crackling logs in a warm hearth. His breathing was shallow and when his hips lowered to allow his erection to rub against your sex, you mewled like the feline you felt like.
Kento’s jaw flexed at the sight of you. His composure was slipping from a combination of his earlier exertions and the tiredness that came with it. He knew that he wouldn’t last long, that he would find the solace he craved in your body, but that he couldn’t hold off for as long as he’d like. “Ready? Need to make it fast… fuck, sorry. Are you...?”
It was your turn to catch his jaw, turning his head and lifting from the sheets to capture his lips. Your poured everything into the kiss—desperation, passion, love, appreciation and so much more—feeding him what he needed to assure him that you were ready with the little prep he had given. You reached between your bodies once more, fingering the velvety skin of his cock as the foreskin rolled back, and you eased the tip of him to your entrance.
He didn’t need any more encouragement, letting his weight settle further onto you whilst he slid his cock into your embrace. Your pelvis rocked upward to help him, eyes rolling skyward when his arms found their way beneath yours to hook up and over your shoulders. With one thrust of his hips and a pull on your body to bring you down the bed, you were impaled to the hilt. Stuffed completely and the sense of fullness had you crying out.
Insistent lips hushed you, Kento’s tongue curling over your teeth and pushing into your mouth akin to how he was fucking into you. The pace was slow despite his earlier warning, only drawing himself back a few inches to repeat the action over and over whilst the stretch adjusted in your gut.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, a hand trailing between his shoulder blades to scour at his skin with your nails. Hissing at welcome pain, he reared back to tower over you, hands on either side of your head as he pounded you out. All you could was absorb it, take him like you always did and clench around his cock in an attempt to milk of that creamy seed you so desperately sought. You wouldn’t be content until you were sore and leaking.
“Ken…oh! Fuck—wait! What are you…fuck-fuck!”
On a whim fuelled by pure desire, he grabbed your legs together and hugged them to his barrelled chest before leaning forward. The strength in his core was to be marvelled, every muscle and tendon stretching and flexing whilst he reached new depths in your cunt. His cock continually kissed up against your tender cervix, knocking again and again until the strain was too much, and the dam burst all at once. His thrusts turned sloppy, uncoordinated as his body spasmed from the release, yet his brain buzzed with the need to have you follow close behind.
He reached out and pushed his thumb into your open mouth, flattening your tongue and having to pull it free when you tried to suckle it. Kento growled, digging for your sensitive pearl, and roared in triumph when he rubbed at it with the saliva coating his thumb and you damn near shot to the ceiling from the stimulation. Your walls pulsed around his still twitching dick, pulling him deeper again and he clenched his teeth to prevent a whimper leaving him.
It took no effort at all for you to see stars. The band of tension in the depths of your belly pulled to the breaking point and released, a wave of toe-curling bliss dragging you underneath the surf. You could feel Kento’s continued slow thrusts, the slap of his now empty balls against the cleft of your arse and the breathy grunts when you spasmed insistently, but you had no desire to open your eyes.
When you finally did return to Earth, you were cradled against Kento’s chest. You couldn’t recall the moment he repositioned you both, but the comfort was immediate. Stretching out your legs to feel that exquisite burn of overuse from your thighs and lower abdomen. For the longest time you detailed each and every little mark on his shoulders, biceps, and chest. Running delicate fingertips along the ridges of more prominent scars and pressing careful kisses to the ones not fully healed, where the skin was still pink and new.
“Still focused on those I see. Should I be worried?” Kento asked in the otherwise hush of the room.
You shrugged, non-committal but ultimately opting for honesty. “Just thinking, I guess.”
“… about?”
“If any of these had been the one. Y’know, the one that took you from me,” you admitted with a whisper. It wasn’t a topic you liked to discuss, even though, given your shared profession it was best to have matters like these addressed regularly. You hated thinking that it was an insurance for if the worst did come to pass and you understood it wasn’t just a one-way concern.
“We don’t have long until we can pack it all in like we planned. The kids—the next generation are nearly ready to take over, we both know that. Then you won’t have to worry about any more scars. Well…” he paused, gazing down at you with amusement shining through the façade of his serious declarations. “Except for the ones you seem keen to add to my back.”
The scoff you let out made his smile widen. Glad to have drawn you back out of the sombre thoughts clouding your mind. He was all too familiar with the morose direction of your thoughts when you got inside your head like this, and he hated that there was so little he could do to reassure you. However, he wasn’t lying. He didn’t plan for either of you to be involved in the jujutsu world for any longer than you absolutely had to be, and the day you could escape was hurtling closer.
“Come on, let’s shower then get some sleep. We’ve got a strategy meeting in the morning, and I don’t fancy dealing with Gojo’s hyper arse whilst being sleep deprived and under-caffeinated. Also, I think I need to see my handiwork too…”
“So much for the shower can wait until the morning, hm?”
Leaning up on your elbow, you kissed the tip of his nose before darting towards the bathroom door. Looking over your shoulder with a wiggle of your bare arse, you cooed enticingly. “My scratches might have faded by morning. C’mon, Nanami-sensei… I’ll let you fuck your cum deeper into me if you can beat me to the shower.”
It was safe to say that Kento proved that night that he could still move faster than lightning when he wanted to…
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