#let alone every single thing after

[femme-enby]

@kaprisvn the way the tronics, excluding perhaps Freddy since he’s too sweet, would probably each find me looking at them with dead, hopeless eyes funny… bc that’s how I looked at every person who made eye contact with me that I speak to even a lil bit on my shift when I would take a breather outside the bathrooms.

Monty passes by, sees me lookin like I’ve been to war and I ain’t even done yet… bro would laugh and then I’d have to fight the gator ig.

Last night-

Full team! Wooo should be easy!

Trash compactor is full. Maintenance corner is already full of trash.

Go check- not full? Just clogged. Clear the jam.

Truck? Get pallet Jack.

False alarm. No truck. Return to opposite side of store.

Now it’s full.

Cool cool cool.

No proper cleaning carts left (3 for a team of 5) gotta set up a shopping cart.

Interrupted. Asked to help with trash. Okay.

Cold.

Return. Try to set up cart-

Truck is here??? Find pallet Jack.

…

No truck.

Go back. Do not contact me about a truck.

Finally get set up. Finish small rooms. Was not called about truck. Good. Fuck that truck.

Urinal filled to the brim w the nastiest “what is water?” Piss.

Turn off water? Check…

…

Did not turn off water. Piss is all over the floor.

Get suction machine. Clean piss. Suck out the clog w machine.

It aerosolized the piss.

Eyes, nose, throat, all burn. Cannot stop coughing. Ranid.

I smell like piss.

I clean machine. I return.

I turn off water.

Check.

… water all over floor.

I squeegee… floor drain is raised. Nevermind. Go clean women’s.

Women’s done!

Mens still got water all over floor.

Mop up water? Too long. No machine, the cloud is leaving, do not want to refresh it.

Spread water. Let dry. Clean everything else.

Finally mop all floor proper.

Hour past lunch. I Cri. I go. No sandwich of mine available. Don’t want my usual option bc it be dryin my mouth out. Get protein shake. Sad.

Return. Clean the singular mop head bc we have been out of replacements for at least a week.

Cri.

Clean front bathrooms. Fine. Women’s? Disgusting. Every bodily fluid is everywhere. That is normal.

Finally done. An hour and a half behind schedule. Late to last break by almost an hour.

Return. Dairy cooler. Clean mop head again. Get hot water this time. Suction up milk spills. Sweep. Wring mop aggressively so I’m not leaving puddles of icky grey water from milk, floor is rough concrete.

Fight for my life to scrub dairy cooler floors w hot, damp mop.

Finish.

Arms are noodles. Clock out time.

Have to take apart shopping cart I set up like cleaning cart. Have to dump suction machine. Rinse mop bc dayshift won’t.

Finally leave.

Finally remember to get new laces for work shoes.

Get home. Clean shoes. Replace laces.

Decontaminate?

Cold shower. Fuck me.

Clean(?) don’t feel clean. Gotta scald to be clean.

Sad.

[waitineedaname]

on this reread I decided I'm gonna underline each time sqq says something blatantly untrue as if it's a fact, does or thinks something deranged, or just generally acts like an insane person. folks, I'm not even done with the first chapter and things are already not looking good

[ratatatastic]

lmaoooo maffhew wanting the knot immediately and having to wait for sasha to catch up with that is so deeply funny like. this omega is not subtle and you’re not a stupid alpha babe! can only imagine what benny has to say to maffhew about it once he catches on and stops banging his head against a wall

idiots to lovers is always great but especially when its two people who would be hitched with 10 kids by now if they stopped being dumb for a single second like its that easy and yet...

to me they very much fall around the same time (infatuation at first scent if you will) just that sasha takes some time to get there not because he's dumb (okay he's a little dumb) but in the sense that its like "this person is very interested in me, i can see and recognise that but theres so much cognitive dissonance in my brain right now between knowing that intrinsically and finding that hard to believe so i unintentionally play dumb because obviously i'm reading too much into things it cant be me they're interested in haha that'd crazy but they're being awfully touchy and flirty with me wow"

but also it takes two to tango and we have to acknowledge that and this is when i would love to bring up the ways in which this man decides is the best way to go about that because he is a catholic school girlie... there's so much hilarity to be had here especially because his flirting is very uh how you say... a little ass backwards if you will especially considering dynamics

"I make it a point to keep the door closed when we're alone in a room together! That's basically a clear invitation that I'm down to fuck!!! Im basically asking to be ragdolled on his knot!!!"

and Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose like "I don't know how to explain to you in a way you'll understand that not everyone went to Catholic school."

But saying that Sasha does side-eye the door knob heavily when Maffhew goes over to close it the first time and he starts sweating like he just got dragged into a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven he did not sign up for and he's 13 again and oh god he got paired with a really cute girl, and he hasn't even had his first real kiss yet and-

And then absolutely nothing happens because Maffhew is just waiting with a polite expectant smile (because his work here is done, he did the heavy lifting know it's Sasha's turn) and this is when Sasha's dynamic classes training kicks in and he basically scolds himself for even assuming in the first place because this is clearly a show of trust (correct) not an invitation for extra circular activities (incorrect buzzer noise) and it basically becomes "This Omega really trusts me, I'm honoured especially as Pack Leader that I'm able to be so accepted into such a private space with the inherent knowledge that I will not encroach their boundaries whatsoever because consent is verbal, this is not in any way an invitation to take advantage of them this is deep platonic trust I will guard with my life :]"

and if you listen closely you can hear the lovely sounds of Maffhew bashing his head into a wall about how much of a gentleman Sasha is but also COME ONNNNNN... you know... once Maffhew realises what's happening which (looks at my watch) is not due for another few months really

Battle of wills: unstoppable force (maffhews catholic school understanding of dynamic interactions) vs immovable object (overseas alpha cotillion classes)

And if you think it's an Oh! An overseas dynamic thing! It's not. The Euros are watching the horrible car crash in front of them and doing absolutely nothing about it because it's none of their business, but they will stare at it... maybe judge it a bit but definitely are observing from the tall grass.

and I'm also not saying that luosty lundy forsy and bobby have a current running bet of how long it'll take for maffhew to break sasha in but i'm also not not saying that... luosty goaded lundy in the midst of a gossip session ("It has to be 3 months, right?) forsy happened to be around so lundy turned to him for advice ("7 months.") and maybeeee bobby overheard from all the way over from his stall and puts in his two cents for what it's worth ("6. Captain nice but not that nice. Very impatient." "So 3!" "No. Impatience makes him double the time, and wait longer. 6 months.") (lundy finally settles on a good 5 months because he's indecisive)

And Sasha does eventually pick up everything maffhew is throwing down... eventually... and when he does it becomes more so I want to court this omega the way they deserve I will take this slow and romance them sweetly :) *smash cut to maffhew caterwauling like a cat in heat*

but also once again its not like maffhew is helping sasha in any way this is idiot4idiot and benny would like to enjoy the car crash with the euros but unfortunately that's his soulmate, thats his bestie, his littermate from birth who has been weaned on the same teat as they climbed over each other to get to it, the first girl you kissed in your childhood bedroom because somehow you started play fighting on the bed because she was like i could totally pin you down easy and then she does and you always noticed how beautiful she was but shes even more gorgeous when she's pinning your wrists to your hannnah montana duvet you promised yourself youd changed out before she came over but you forget and well she teased you about it and you cant help but giggle about how perfect this all is and it seems that the natural conclusion to this is to taste the strawberry lipgloss of her lips because whats a kiss between besties huh its tacky and sticky and it tastes like summer and just other apt metaphors to put here about the inherent -isms of their relationship that i nearly cant put to words properly other than girls having fun (they are fucking)

and well anyways benny is watching and he has a lot of things to say about how its been proceeding so far

"You should really use your words."

"I am!"

"Right because smelling like a fucking perfume shop in the middle of October is using your words."

"This usually works with most Alphas okay!"

"Sasha isn't most Alphas."

"Tell me about it." Matthew grouses before he peeks over to Sam, looking up from beneath his eyelashes—the exact way he knows both endears him to Sam but also absolutely miffs him all the same, "Worked on you, didn't it?"

"Oh, is that what we're doing right now? We're calling getting a lapful of a preening O in preheat in the middle of a roadie a normal way to go about these things."

"It worked didn't it?" Matthew reiterates.

"It would work better if you use—"

"Okay! Alright!! I get it!!!" He does not.

like benny here is unfortunately an active listening participant in the going ons of the fuckery if not because hes involved by proxy because of maffhew because who else will hold his hair back as he calls him a dumb bitch you know

[st4rstudent]

i feel somewhat responsible for this, even if i’m not the one saying these things. I’m genuinely so sorry.

No need to apologize! It's not one singular person doing it and truth be told I don't think it's a large majority that thinks that (albeit the ones that do are quite vocal). I didn't mean to upset anyone or anything when complaining about it, I was just letting off some steam.

Having a yap session under the cut sorry I feel like rambling under your ask anon.

Admittedly, I do think there are reasonings for people thinking this way. A lot of the focus with Clash has been on the cogs, especially after the 1.3 update. Which I can't say I blame them! Managers were something new and exciting and (from what I can tell) really separated them from the other servers. I don't blame them for wanting to put focus on that because that was their thing. Alongside other things, but majorly when you hear Clash the managers are mentioned in someway shape or form. But as we all know, toons ended up taking the short stick from this. This isn't helped by the gameplay itself, being mainly a fetch-quest deal so you often only talk to npcs once or twice unless if they're repeated ones and the taskline wasn't entirely accessible on the wiki for a while (shoutout to the wiki maintainers. The taskline script is a savior). Which I'm quite excited to see if they deal with this issue with the rewrite. I imagine they will, but anyways. Social media posts would often contain more managers than toons, which I also believe they're starting to fix. And ontop of this, I believe most of the team in the early era of the sever is gone, so there's been some stuff lost in the change. So yeah, dialogue/writing has been kind of rocky. AGAIN- I am completely aware of the rewrite going on and I am not judging them harshly based off of their current state. I'm very appreciative of the fact that they took the time to listen and are focusing on trying to fix it up. And then there's also fandom mischaracterization- especially of the cogs. Forgive me for mentioning mischaracterization because normally I wouldn't really care (I've mischaracterized characters before..especially in my younger years. I think it's just a process of learning an having fun and I hate to limit anyone because of it). With that being said, there's a lot of baby-fying and coddling of the managers. Especially with those who have more 'sympathetic' stories (Misty, Chip, Winston specifically). Don't get me wrong, I like these characters and I can appreciate the story they're trying to tell, but I feel like so many people will hear their dialogue and then misplace their anger. People get mad at Bessie for trying to protect HER lighthouse or at the Elders for trying to keep YOTT safe (lets not forget Winston was there to brainwash toons). Yes, yes technically there would've been better ways to do it but consider this: The toons are scared. Their homes, stores, lives are being taken over by a big corporation that has more resources that they do. They don't have the privilege of waiting, seeing, and gathering. And then people forget that the company has such a huge role in both toons and cogs lives. If you're mad over the mistreatment of Misty or the fact that Winston is still in the dungeon, your anger should be directed at the company who doesn't care. I may be completely wrong in saying this, but I feel like the stories with almost all of the managers is a reflection of the company. The toons are only trying to protect themself and their environments and yet this seems to go forgotten when people start bashing them. And of course, I'd consider myself a toon guy so me saying all this and complaining may come off as "I HATE the cogs and everyone who posts only about them!" and for clarification that's not true. You all know how much I like that little brain thing. The cogs are interesting, their designs are fun, I don't blame people for liking them because I do too. I just wish that the thought process behind so many of these discussions wasn't so cog focused because I believe that this anger at the toons for, RIGHTFULLY, defending themselves helps push this mischaracterization of them as a whole. That they're mean, boring, unlikeable while the opposite is true. Yes there are some, what I'd consider, "filler" dialogue from the shopkeepers. This is just because of the gameplay. But there are some funny and cute moments with them if people would just listen and read.

Which also brings me into another point: people skip the dialogue. I've caught myself doing this before (on my first account. I have 4 accounts total, so I reread the dialogue on like 3 of them). But people will complain about lack of toon personalities while doing this. It's like reading through a comic book, only looking at the drawings, and then complaining because there "isn't a storyline". Luckily, there's been efforts to keep track of the dialogue on the wiki but I doubt a lot of people are going through and reading the entire script. It just feels very disingenuous to criticize the dialogue when you haven't even read it. Likewise, people don't seem to read the blogposts either. This is both from a dialogue aspect and from an update aspect (people continuously asking about hammerspace/mix-and-match under unrelated posts).

[fear-no-mort]

loving it keep it coming

[barley-st-band]

anyone else getting a little tired of the unending horror

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I miss S.hepard. The third game always makes my heart hurt lmao

[pepplemint]

I said Knives never tortured anyone in Trimax but I lied he did turn Legato into a pretzel

[orcelito]

ok i am actually so very angry and there's literally nothing i can do to fix it. life keeps going on. she might even be happy. and fuck dude, i'll make sure im happy too, i was a fully developed person before she was in my life and i'll continue to be one without her. but God Damn, the fact that she can just do something so blatantly awful and unfair to me and then run off without any actual repercussions is just so fucking rankling to me.

like perhaps she feels guilty. she said she did when it was all going down. but it was just something she "needed to do". so obviously she didn't feel guilty enough or she wouldnt have done it like that lmaoooo

i really did deserve to have a good solid yell at her. but unfortunately, by the time i did see her in person i just wanted her out of my fucking life. so. no yelling was done, unfortunately.

[dancing-with-stars]

guys. guys !!!!

[headspace-hotel]

How to begin a sustainable way of life

This is a draft of something I've been writing for a couple months. It is mainly focused on the culture of the USA. Feel free to repost or otherwise share, with or without credit.

Do not tell people what to do—help them do it! 

Give the gift of relief from being forced to engage in society’s unsustainable ways of life. 

“People need to eat more plant-based foods.” ->Talk about your favorite recipes, give others recipes, cook for them, and grow vegetables and plants in your garden and give them away as gifts. 

“People need to repair their clothes.” -> Offer to repair others’ clothes, and teach people how to repair their clothes. 

“People need to buy less clothes.” -> Give them old clothes that you don’t want, help them repair their clothes

“People need to buy less plastic stuff.” -> Learn to make things that can serve the same purpose, such as baskets, and give them as gifts. Let people borrow things you own so they don’t have to buy their own. 

“People need to stop using leafblowers and other gas-guzzling machinery.” -> Offer to rake the leaves. You can use them as compost in your own garden. 

“People need to be more educated about nature.”-> Learn about nature yourself. Tell people about nature. Be open about your love of creatures such as snakes, spiders, and frogs. Do not show awareness that this could be strange. You are not obligated to quiet down your enthusiasm for creepy crawlies to demonstrate awareness that it is weird. Point out at every opportunity how these animals are beneficial. 

“People need to use cars less.” -> Offer rides to others whenever you must go somewhere. Whenever you are about to go to the store, ask your neighbor or your friend who lives along the way, “Is there anything you need from the store?” 

You cannot control others’ behaviors, but you can free them from being controlled. 

If you think to yourself, “But this would be so difficult to do!” ask yourself WHY? Why does your society coerce you into less sustainable ways of living, forcing you to consume excessively? After thinking about this, consider that it is less simple and easy than you thought to make more sustainable choices, so why would you judge others for not doing it? 

Do not act alone—act with others! 

Environmentally friendly behaviors that can be done alone, without collaborating with or consulting another person, are the least powerful of all. Whenever an “environmentally friendly” behavior is suggested, figure out “How can I give this as a gift?” or “How can I make this possible on the level of a whole community?” 

“Personal choices” do not work because every single person has to make them individually. If you are focused on making your own personal choice, you are not focused on others. If you are not focused on others, you are not helping them. If nobody is helping each other, most people won’t be able to make the “personal choice.”

You inherently share an ecosystem with your neighbors  

            Start with your neighbors, the people physically close to you. You live on the same patch of land, containing roots from the same plants and trees. You can speak to them face to face without traveling, which means you can easily bring them physical things without using resources to travel. 

            Always talk to your neighbors and be friendly with them. Offer them favors unprompted and tell them about how your garden is doing. Do not be afraid to be annoying—a slightly annoying neighbor who is helpful, kind, and can be relied upon for a variety of favors or in times of need is a necessary and inevitable part of a good community. If you make the effort to be present in somebody’s life, they will have to put up with you on some occasions, but that is just life. We cannot rely on each other if we do not put up with each other. 

Simply spending time with someone influences them for good 

Every hour you spend outside with your neighbor is an hour your neighbor doesn’t spend watching Fox News. Every hour you spend talking with someone and interacting with them in the real world, eating real food and enjoying your real surroundings, is an hour you don’t spend only hearing a curated picture of what reality is like from social media. 

            Isolation makes it easy for people to become indoctrinated into extremist beliefs. When someone spends more time alone, watching TV, Youtube, or scrolling social media, than they do with others, their concept of what other people are like and what the world is like comes more from social media than real life. TV and online media are meant to influence you in a specific way. Simply restricting the access these influences have to yourself and others is helpful. 

A garden is the source of many gifts 

If you grow a garden, you can give your neighbors and friends the gift of food, plants, and crafted objects. This is one of the foundational ways to form community. When you give food, you provide support to others. When you give plants, you are encouraging and teaching about gardening. It is even better when you give recipes cooked from things you grew, or items crafted from things you grew. You can also give the gift of knowledge of how to grow these plants, cook these recipes, or craft these objects. 

More on gift-giving

            Some people are uncomfortable with receiving items or services as gifts. They want to feel like they are giving something back, instead of having obligation to return the favor hanging over them. 

            It can help to ask a simple favor that can be easily fulfilled. People generally like the feeling of helping someone else. 

When you give someone a gift, it can help to say something like “Oh, I have too many of this thing to take care of/store/eat myself! Do you think you could take some?” This makes your neighbor feel like they are helping you. 

When allowing others to borrow items, you might not get them back. Don’t worry about that. It just means the item found a place where it was needed the most. You can ask about the item if you think it might have been forgotten, and this can create an opportunity for a second meeting. But don’t press. 

If the person you give to insists upon some form of payment, this is a good opportunity to negotiate a trade. 

Ask to be given compostable or recyclable things 

Ask your neighbor to save compostable scraps, biodegradable cardboard and paper products, and any other items that might be put to use. Use them in your own compost pile. Or, start a compost pile at the edge of the yard where you both can add to it. Remember that “wet” compost like vegetable and fruit bits needs to be mixed with twice as much of “dry” and “woody” compost like cardboard, leaves, small twigs, paper and wood bits. 

Use the front yard for gardening

Overcome the cultural norm that the front yard is only decorative. Use the front yard for gardening so you can be seen by others enjoying your garden, and others can witness the demonstration of the possibilities of land. In the front yard, anything you do intentionally with your land can be witnessed. It also makes you a visible presence in your community. 

Grow staple foods 

Don’t just grow vegetables that cannot be the core component of a meal themselves. Grow potatoes, dry beans, black eyed peas and other nourishing, calorie-dense foods. Grow the ingredients of meals. You could even build a garden around a recipe.

Invite neighbors and friends over to eat food made from things you grew 

Be sure to send them home with leftovers.  

Grow plants for baskets 

Containers are one of the fundamental human needs. If we had more containers, we wouldn’t need plastic so much. You can learn to make baskets, and to grow plants that provide the raw materials for baskets. 

If someone rakes their leaves, ask to have the leaves  

If you see someone putting leaves in bags, don’t be afraid to ask if you can have the leaves. More likely than not they will be happy to agree. 

Collaborate with neighbors to plant things in the no-man’s-land of the property line 

In the border land between your neighbor’s yard and your yard, it is almost always just mowed grass because no one can plant anything without it affecting their neighbor. But these border lands add up to a lot of space. It would be much better if you talked to your neighbor about what would be nice to plant there, and together created a plan for that space. 

Give others the freedom to wander 

Make it clear that you will not get mad if the neighbor’s kids play in your yard or run across it. Invite the neighbors onto your land as much as possible. Tell them they are allowed to spend time in a favored spot whenever they would like.  

The power of the hand-made sign 

If there is a yard sale, you always know about it because of the hand-drawn signs placed around. Therefore, a cookout or unwanted item exchange can be announced the same way. In rural areas I have seen hand-made signs that say: FIREWOOD or WE BUY GOATS or EGGS. This is one of the few technologies of community that remain in the USA. If someone who looks to buy and sell can put up a hand-made sign, why shouldn’t you?  

Religious people or people with strong political opinions like to put signs everywhere. If they have the confidence and courage to do so, why shouldn’t you? 

So if there is a message you would like everyone to see, use the simple power of the hand-made sign. Proclaim “BEE FRIENDLY ZONE!” above your pollinator garden with all the confidence of a religious fundamentalist billboard. Announce to the world, “VEGETABLES FREE TO ALL—JUST ASK!” “WE TAKE LEAVES—NO PESTICIDES.” Instead of YARD SALE, or perhaps in conjunction with YARD SALE, you can write, PLANT EXCHANGE or SEED SWAP or CLOTHING SWAP. Who can stop you? 

Someone has to do it for society to change  

Some of these ideas might be eccentric, strange, or even socially unacceptable, but there is no way to change what is normal except to move against it. Someone has to be weird. It might as well be you. 

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’re heavily pregnant with sukuna’s child and so desperately need to have your specific pregnancy cravings: mangoes. when you realise you’re out of them, you turn into an emotional mess.

tags. true form!sukuna x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size difference (reader referred to as small). reader gets called ‘woman, brat’ wc: 1.8k

you’re crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukuna’s arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of the master bedroom. there really doesn’t seem to be an end to your mental breakdown.

you’re prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe as it sticks out from under your kimono.

you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. “not fair,” you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.

the bedroom doors suddenly swing open. you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. more upset than you are at the moment, that’s for sure.

you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while you’re stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.

after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure. he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“enough with the tears,” sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.

his eyes flicker over your body—taking in the sight of your round belly. he can’t deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days without seeing you.

sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long you’ve been sobbing? the realisation that no one has checked on you while you’ve been crying like this irks him.

the king of curses will make sure that every single servant - and especially the ones assigned to you - pay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.

“damn it, woman,” sukuna curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, “what’s gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"

you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.

“welcome home,” you utter, remembering to greet him properly. you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. “i—i went down to the kitchen to get som-something,” you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukuna’s irritation spikes.

“but they didn’t have the food i craved—they’re out of mangoes,” your wailing starts again just at the thought of your non existent fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.

sukuna’s annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that you’re crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he couldn't help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

the pink haired man brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. “mangoes, huh? y’re out here bawling y’r fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?”

despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplified emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, you’re stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.

“mangoes,” you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch. you easily guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.

though, mangoes are your current pregnancy craving and not having them meant war to you. it’s all you can focus on—even if your beloved sukuna is right in front of you.

“i need them,” you whine and pout. your hormones made it difficult for you to calm down.

you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out for the nth time. “i want my mangoes,” your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, “please?”

sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that you’re experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.

the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight. “tsk, damn it,” he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, “y’re really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?”

here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. he’s seen you in many states - happy, sad, tired, excited - but never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit. sukuna’s large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.

you pout at sukuna and lean into his touch as he pats your head. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do. “well, you’re the one who got me pregnant,” you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.

no matter what sour mood you’re in, you can still be sassy. though it doesn’t last long before your bottom lip trembles again. “i can’t do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,” you whine as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your words.

you are eating for two people after all—for you and the baby.

sukuna’s smirk widened at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. damn cheeky little woman.

the pink-haired man chuckled darkly, his hand clumsily ruffling your hair again before pulling away. “‘n i don’t regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with y’r cranky ass.”

you roll your eyes at sukuna’s reply. you know you’re an emotional mess, but you couldn’t care less. anything for your mangoes—those juicy ones that you could eat a dozen of in one sitting.

“the maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ‘nd villages nearby,” you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. you’re trying your best to stay rational. you’re extremely hungry and haven’t eaten ever since breakfast. that’s how stubborn you are being.

“but i’m hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,” you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.

“yeah, yeah—fuckin’ hell,” sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. it’s a constant reminder of the effect he has on you, and somehow, it makes him proud.

he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you don’t strain a single muscle.

after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eat—perhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.

sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walked towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra. it’s driving him insane.

“mangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i get it, brat,” the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb. you’re lucky that he . . . tolerates you as his wife.

it’s something more than just ‘tolerating’ you, of course. but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.

if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that it’s simply because you’re carrying his heir. however only sukuna knows the full truth, the sappy secret he’ll forever keep to himself.

before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume. they glance from sukuna to you and bow. “good day,” they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. they’ve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.

the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows you’re holding yourself back from asking for your active pregnancy craving again.

sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume. “keep an eye on her while ‘m gone. feed her what she wants,” he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.

uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.

“where are you going, hubby?”

you of course, get a free pass. you don’t hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him that in such an oblivious manner. you should’ve known where he was departing to.

“where’d you think, smartass?” he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.

you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.

“you better hold on ‘til i come back with y’r stupid mangoes,” he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, “and when i do, i don’t wanna hear ‘nother squeak, understood?”

sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.

your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that sukuna is actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.

“okay! love you, ‘kuna!” you call out to your lover while he disappears behind the gates. as expected, your words are met by silence.

that’s fine with you. not hearing an ‘i love you’ back doesn’t hurt you as much as it did at the start of your relationship.

you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didn’t, you’d be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didn’t like you.

you know sukuna would let the world burn for you.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)❞

a/n: almost four hundred followers omg.. i love all you freaks mwah!! here is part two as promised. included some requests for characters. aged up! megumi and yuji of course. might do a part three maybeeee? afab body w/no gendered language as usual.

part one.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he thinks of it as memorabilia. snatching your panties from the floor before you have the chance to put them back on- just something he keeps to remember you bye.

▸ daddy kink. we all saw this coming, right? you call him daddy once and it's all he needs to fuck you into the bed for the rest of the night.

▸ thigh riding. seeing you frotting against his large thigh, desperate to cum, pussy practically drooling for it... his favorite foreplay 100%.

▸ cum play. this man will cum anywhere and everywhere and he'll love it. let him cum on your face, your ass, your chest, your back, down your throat, etc etc.

▸ hatefucking. angry sex after an argument where he takes out all of the stress you caused him on your poor holes :(

▸ breeding. you can give him another baby, can't you? you can make him a daddy all over again, right? just let him cum inside of you as much as he wants, he'll make it happen, he swears.

▸ exhibitionism. you grind against him once on the bar floor and next thing you know he's dragging out to the empty alleyway and pressing you against the nearest wall.

▸ size difference. he's so large, so big, every single part of him practically overtaking you. and he gets off on that fact so fucking hard!!

. *. ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

▸ cockwarming. seating himself inside your warm pussy while he's stuck doing all kinds of boring paperwork. he'll fuck you, he swears, you just gotta sit pretty on his lap for a little bit, okay?

▸face fucking. he loves taking out all of his stress on you. gripping your hair as he uses your mouth mercilessly, bullying his cock down the back of your tight throat.

▸blindfolding. silk ribbons in a variety of colors that he matches to the underwear you're modeling for him. only the best for his lover <3

▸ thigh riding. there's no better way to put him in the mood than pathetically grinding yourself against his thigh, using his body selfishly for your own pleasure.

▸ hair pulling. y'all know that one scene... he pulls at your hair exactly like that. fingers going white with how tight he's tugging at you, manipulating your position until you're face to face with his scowl.

▸ spanking. makes you count for every slap and if you miscount, he's starting all over again. pay better attention to him next time, yeah?

▸ semi-public. yes, he will bend you right over his desk, no he doesn't care there's a meeting going on next door. or better yet, against the window of the fourth floor, overlooking the busy street below it.

▸ phone sex. it really isn't any problem that he's across the country on a mission. even just the sound of your whines over the phone is enough to get him off.

. *. ⋆ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he would say he feels bad about it, but he doesn't. you looked so good in the lacey little things, he can't help but want to keep them for later. even has his own little drawer for them.

▸ masochism. the stinging pain of your nails running down his back is utterly euphoric. and don't get him started on how harshly you tug at his hair when he's eating you out- he can cum in his boxers just from that alone.

▸ breast play. massaging at the skin, feeling the plumpness under his fingertips. sucking at your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. he's obsessed.

▸ edging. leaving you just on the brink of release over and over again, until tears are streaming down your face. he'll let you cum eventually, you just look so pretty this worked up for him.

▸ marking. oh my goddd do not get megumi started on this. he doesn't know why it gets him so worked up- seeing you covered in the hickeys and bite marks that he's left on you- but it does.

▸ cunnilingus. eats you out like a man starved, like he'll never eat you out again. pulling him away from your poor pussy is next to impossible if he's not yet done with his meal.

▸ mutual masturbation. sometimes you both just need to relaxation of release and nothing more. sitting across from each other on the bed, or maybe side by side, listening to the moans of the other as you both touch yourselves.

▸ dacryphilia. like adoptive father like adopted son. seeing your eyes brim with tears from how good he's fucking you drives him crazy.

. *. ⋆ YUJI ITADORI

▸ ass play. we all know he's an ass man i mean come on?! doggy style is his favorite position just because of it. seeing how the fat of your ass moves with every slap of his hips is fucking addicting.

▸ praise kink. tell him how good he's fucking you and how much of a good boy he is pleaseeee!!!!

▸ toys. he didn't realize how much he would love bringing toys into the bedroom until he sees how hard you can cum around him while he holds a vibrator to your clit.

▸ raw sex. he knows it's stupid, fucking you with no protection. you're pussy just feels so good, so warm, he needs to fuck you raw.

▸ face riding. please sit on his face, suffocate him, he doesn't care. it's his favorite position to eat you out.

▸ overstimulation. poor baby doesn't even mean to overstimulate you half of the time- he just has so much stamina, you understand that, right? and seeing you so flushed and fucked out under him has him so horny. just one more round, yeah? you can do that for him, right?

▸ dirty talk. yuji is a yapper and that doesn't stop when he's fucking you. the filth that comes out of his mouth has you wet just thinking about it.

▸ dry humping. the tension, the intimacy, the panting, the friction?? all of it, it's like a drug to him.

[screampied]

can u pleasee do jjk mens fav positions ? or have u already done that

‘ CARTWHEEL ON THE D!CK ☆ ! ’

starring ꒱ geto, gojo, shiu, hiromi, choso, sukuna, toji ?!

@WARNINGS. fem! reader, praise, dirty talk, mentions of breeding, full nelson, missionary, (rev) + cowgirl, prone bone, size kinks, overstim, tummy bulge, face riding, impact play, shotgunning, squirting, till the bed breaks 18+

TOJI ✰ DOGGYSTYLE

“down, girl.”

with the pitch of his tone— that was how easy it was for him to have you arched over, bent over his wooden desk. your pussy was still sopping from earlier, needing a moment to get over your most recent teeth-shattering orgasm. toji prefers missionary too but he mainly loves doggystyle just so he could peer a few peeks at your ass. so cute, he smears his swollen tip against your saturated entrance before groaning. sloshes of cries die out from your folds as he’s ogling at how you’re so eager to swallow him up. leisurely, his fat, throbbing tip makes its way into you and he yanks the back of your tank top. “tojiiii, ‘s not gonna fit again,” you gasp, a broad free hand of his grabs a good chunk of your ass before spanking it. you moan from the sting, the pulse it gifts between your legs couldn’t have been any more embarrassing. “so f-fuckin’ big.”

“say that everytime ‘n ya still take it like a good slut,” he growls, feeling a hot sensation burn near the tips of his ears. you’re so feverish inside, he bites his lip before shoving you further against the desk. one single thrust and your life flashes before your eyes. his cock metaphorically splits the inside of your cunt open, having your lips pry apart and you hear that sinister snicker of his from behind you. “ugh. gotta be careful with you though. with a pussy this wet, might fall in love, heh.”

toji’s speed was always simply relentless—your chest would continuously thwack against the furniture, bump after bump occurring. it’s so loud, his dick pivots and reaches so deep, it rummages through every single orifice and you repeat your whines for him again and again.

“f-fuuuck, toji,” you’d babble out, the same words spewing out your lips on a constant never-ending loop like a mantra. full balls of his occasionally tap against you. with your legs parted, you’re all sprawled open for him. toji knew the layout of your pussy— he had to. with a sharp piston of his hips, his thrusts start to become more vigorous. you could barely match let alone keep up with his pace.

with doggystyle, toji was simply animalistic,

one of his favorite things to do was to wrap his thick fingers around your throat, putting his face up close to yours. “awww, babygirl. ‘s too deep? want me to go slower for you, baby? i can go slow for the pretty girl.”

he’s teasing you—pitching his voice in that faux caring tone, he drags his tongue against your neck and you whine, whimpering out a, “f-faster, fuck me faster, ‘toj.”

“well excuse me. then shut up ‘n take this dick,” and his words punctuate through every part of his dialogue. rough emphasis on his sentences—you gasp, feeling the crown of his cock prof against your g-spot. a scratch through your brain surges and you were already stupid. “take it like it’s yours,” he gruffs, his voice lowering a bit. your gummy walls squeeze against him tightly and it makes him suck his teeth. so soft, fleshy mounds of your ass gets grabbed by the rough hands of toji. throughout each spank he gives you, it rings in your ears like wedding bells. it only encourages you to fuck back against him quicker, making haste. “yeah, fuck me back. take this dick like ya own it.”

you’re hitting back and forth against him, feeling the way toji steadily pries open your pussy with the fat, plump head of his dick. he grunts, pushing your head back down into the sheeny polished desk until it’s smushed against the plethora of scattered papers. “t- toji, right there, right there please.”

“i know the fuck where,” he snarls, feeling his thin nostrils flare— it makes him a bit vexed with how easily your cunt takes him. swallowing him up, he can’t help but stare at how well you’re taking his mean backshots from behind. a big hand of his is still yanking onto the very back fabrics of your tank top before he quite literally tears it into two. “oop. my bad,” he snickers, hearing a cute gasp come out of you. he’s still balls deep before you whine.

“toji, my shirt !”

“yeah, what about it.”

you frown, he’s still deep into churning your guts before you speak with each moan butchering the delivery of your voice. “what do you mean what about it, that was a gift!”

“girl, chillax. i’ll get ya a new one.”

he doesn’t.

GOJO ✰ PRONE BONE.

“shh, you don’t gotta talk when you’re bent over for me, angel,” he’d hush you, and he brings a thumb near your puckering hole to daub the remnants of his sticky, glutinous cum back into you, preventing it from spilling back out again.

you whine, feeling every deep thrust he presents you. he’d just gotten done with filling you up to the brim—yet he doesn’t stop, he’s hungry for more. a hand goes over your mouth, a lustrous sheet of your own slobber paints the palm of his hand in response and he hums. gojo favors prone bone because he likes the closeness of your body against his.

it’s like doggystyle but better,

with your sundress lazily pulled up, he’s got better access and your tummy continually caves in. gojo’s so lengthy, you were still surprised he’d even manage to fit. it was a tight fit but he managed, plugging up your sweetened aperture. warm breathy pants fan against your skin and you whine, his hefty base repeatedly trouncing against your cunt. he was so up close to you, his weight pressing into you so deep that you’re at a loss of words. “s—satoru,” you whimper, feeling his tip stimulate against your most tender spots. each breath you had became more shaky, you were already pumped full of ropy, viscid amounts of his cum from before. your words were a bit muffled but he could still make out your adorable mewls. “so f-full.”

“well yeah. wouldn’t want ya to be empty,” he fake frowns, giving your ass an abrupt spank.

you bite back a moan by sucking your teeth, feeling his shaft reach even deeper angles. he’s got your pussy opening over and over, you’re drooling by this point, being met with slow yet deep hits. it’s primal for a few seconds once he pulls out - only to pull back in, then out again. you start to babble, hating whenever he did that.

gojo was a menace, he wanted to make you beg for more—you feel a fervor wash over you before your maw dangles open. the moment he pulls his dick out, he stares in awe at the thick volumes of cum exuding out of your flooded entrance. “oh, look at thaaaaat,” he sings lowly, staring at the mess painted between your thighs. he’s got the smuggest grin, watching such satiny ropes dribble down your slit. “my my, she’s just so pretty! look at how full she gets too, fuckin’ sloppy.”

“f-finish fucking me, ‘toru,” you pant in heavy breaths, already missing the fullness his dick supplied.

still, you’re over here arched over like some slut. a few cold whiffs of air wafts against your skin and you moan. you hear him sneer out a, ‘awww,’ before he brings his leaky tip back toward your swollen folds. it was so messy, unkempt and shimmering with his seed. gojo grows quiet, smearing his fat reddened tip against your pussy to hear the wet sloshes it creates. “pleaseeee, finish f-fuckin’ me.”

“say pretty please,” he coos, purposely sinking just the fattened tip inside before wresting it back out. he does it over and over, imagining your cute little pout displayed on your face from frustration.

you whine out a sweet, “p-pretty please?”

“pretty please what?” he whispers, strumming a thumb against your throbbing clit. he was edging you, your whines—despite them falling onto deaf ears, you whine again. gojo simpers, trailing a hand down your sensitive spine. “c’monnn. i have no idea what you’re saying please for, angel. you could be saying ‘pretty please can i finish?’ or ‘pretty please can i—”

“pretty please finish f-fucking m-” you grumble, although it sounds more like a desperate moan. even your words backfired on you, he found it so cute how you tried to maintain a rough exterior with your voice but end up failing miserably. you wanted him to finish so bad that you start to swiftly grind against him with your ass still raised up. he loves hearing you like that, so whiny and needy for more—yet once you were about to whine out another needy plea, you hear a sudden snap.

instantaneously, your initial reaction was to flinch and as you peek up—you spot the the wooden headboard snapping in half, the box spring shortly following to collapse. gojo’s still buried balls deep and he doesn’t even realize. only then does he start drilling his fat cock into you at a much quicker pace and you gasp, bawling the sheets into your hand. “s-satoru, fuck fuuuck.”

“oh damn the bed broke,” he sighs, barely acknowledging your moans—you’re so close to your release, feeling the sharp stabbing twist of his hips and he makes you fuck right back into him again and again. with a hand sneaking its way to tug at your hair, he leans up close to your ear before purring low. “hm. that sucks,” and as his hefty cock jackhammers into your loose cunt for the nth time today, he cheeses. “but uh, you’ll buy me- i mean us a new one right? riiiight?”

GETO ✰ REVERSE COWGIRL.

he loves whenever you ride him in reverse—your ass just throwing back against him, it drives him crazy.

with strong, ripped arms wrapped around your waist, a breathy pant leaves his lips and he‘s panting, his mind's racing and racing as he’s awaiting for your finish to peacefully come.

geto groans, you’re taking in every inch of his fat cock, you grow dumb quickly and your brain starts to spiral within seconds. “f-fuck, more. throw that ass back against me harder, wanna feel you.”

geto’s smooth words couldn’t have been any more seductive against your ear. big hands of his drag towards your tummy, his touch sending you shivers constantly before you moan. you’re jerking back against him with your mouth pried open, dilated irises glancing at your pathetic reflection of the mirror that stood in front of you both. “s-suguuu,” you moan, leaning back until your back presses against his bare chest. his warmth makes the butterflies in your tummy whir around at such a speed,

everything about your body was just enticing.

the way you just grip around him drove him wild. steadily holding his dick hostage with your saturated, gummy walls — it drives geto to the first street of erotic insanity. he’s haphazardly buried balls deep, the jaggy smacks that go up and down all due to your sweet hips makes him go mad. lengthy musses of black strands gets caught in his face and he gnaws on his bottom lip. a mucilaginous white ring that coats around his full base sticks against your skin the more your movements rises its tempo.

he’s panting right with you, hot puffy breaths of air leaving each lips, he wraps a hand around your throat before tenderly skimming his thumb down your passageway. making you almost twist your head to stare at him, he whispers, “easy. don’t cum on me yet, gorgeous. can ya wait jus’ a little to be messy for me?”

you frown a bit, pretty spit-glossed lips pursing together into a sweet pout before you whine once he reaches a pivotal certain spot. sage-colored boxers of his was lazily pulled down near his perfectly sculpted pelvic bone—even that was unintentionally sexy, all for a good fuck.

“but— but i can’ttt,” you whimper, feeling the familiar juddering sensation mash all into you.

“wait for me,” he whispers, a hand rubbing against your tummy. you pause your stuttering hips, leaning back into his touch. geto attacks the entirety of your neck with sugared kisses. he’s so tender, you gasp once he feels against the outline of his bulge. “mhm. you feel me here, don’t you pretty? ‘m so deep in you, fuck.”

your pussy’s voluntarily tightening before easing up and you let off soft mewl. “suguru, don’t stop,” and your plea was so sweet. he holds your hips firmly in place before pecking a honeyed kiss near your nape. with how lewd the angle was, you made sure your knees were planted forward as you slouched all the way back. he stuffed your walls so full despite how you brought your eager hips to a saddened halt. his girth wears you thin, you moan once he then brings two hands to squeeze against your tits. so handsy, a finger of his swipes against your perked nipple and you whine. “wanna finish riding you, sugu please.”

“my love, you’re going to. don’t be such a baby,” and that’s only once he turns you around—you inhale a single breath, meeting his pretty face and he pulls you into a deep kiss. geto’s kisses always tasted to candied, so honeyed with nothing but love and affection.

“oh, but i love you,” he says between kisses, leaving your face with multiple targets. he watches your expression turn shy, even leaning in to kiss the soft bridge of your nose. “mwah,” he concludes in a weary breath, holding onto your hips again. you hover over his tip and he grunts, knowing you wanted to ride him again. “always know how to- make me fall more ‘n more in love with you. messy girl,” and a dimple pokes against his cheek once he lies back. “my good messy girl.”

SHIU ✰ COWGIRL.

“ah ah, let me finish my cigarette first,” shiu would hum in a soft low tone, watching you hover over his exposed tip.

he was shirtless—dark cerulean blue boxers pulled all the way down by you and a lit cig sticks out from the left part of his mouth. he shoots you a sly smile, watching the pout on your lips grow as you didn’t wanna wait for him. you needed him carnally, he flashes you a similar coy grin before wrapping an arm around you. “fine. you never listen. i spoil ya too bad, sweets.”

“shiu, want more,” you’d whisper, and he groans once he feels you align himself against your needy hole. you felt the head of his cock scrape against your entrance—a few spurts of pre-cum coat against your folds so slickly. a hitched breath gets caught in his throat before he leans back, manspread. “wanna smoke with you.”

“hm,” he hums in a more form of a question. he’s got quite the length to him. he grunts, feeling the squelches your cunt makes in retaliation. the entire scenery of it all was so crude, he’s amused. with that cute expression of yours, he wants to buy you anything in the world. shiu rubs a hand down your back, easing you to take him fully before you moan at the stretch. “you wanna smoke too, darlin’? ‘s that what y’er tellin’ me?”

“y-yes,” you whimper in a cute plea, rocking your hips once he’s all the way in. he fit perfectly—nice and snug like a key fits a lock.

shiu had such dangerous girth to him too, your mouth desperately opens as you feel every inch. you even feel a slight upward curve he had, something as small as that made you throb—even the vein that runs down the center of his dick, you felt the twitch inside of you. he raises a brow, hazy eyes focusing on your every move. your moves were always so slow it was simply hypnotic. leaning up close, you press a wet kiss near the corner of his mouth. “kiss me.”

“now you’re just gettin’ greedy, baby,” he purrs, inhaling a single puff of hot smoke again. you watch with dilated hearty eyed pupils, and he cups your chin. “very well, open that mouth f’me.”

glossy lips of yours part, he pulls you in for a sultry wet kiss but before he does that, he blows the smoke that was in his mouth right into yours. you whine, bottom lip quivering as it pours right in so easily. the taste was smoky, despite it being literal air, you could still taste it.

shiu’s got half-lidded eyes staring at you, a smirk curling on his lips before he finally gives you that kiss you direly craved. it was deep, you’re still slowly hurtling your hips before he brings two hands to fondle with your neglected breasts. you mewl into his mouth, tasting the lingering flavor of smoke and a dash of mint. his tongue curls against yours, flicking his cigarette away onto the ash tray before pulling you closer. he tastes so intoxicating, a hand squeezes your ass firmly before he groans—you being jittery against his hips has his head spinning.

“s-shit,” shiu phews, globules of sweat racing down the sides of his face. with an almost flustered, out of breath look, he speaks in a soft tone. “you .. you want more, don’t ya sweets? guess y’er not finished with me after all, huh?”

“lie back, shiu,” you breathe in short breaths, softly pressing the clammy palms of your hands onto his bare chest. bristles of curled chest hair prick against your skin before he leans further back, slyly smiling at your sudden dominance. he watches as you pick up his thin cig, sticking it between your own teeth as your hips roll against him in mirroring unison.

“yes ma’am,” he smiles, a hand gripping onto your ass before giving it another spank. “do whatever ya want to me, sweets. ‘m all yours.”

SUKUNA ✰ FULL NELSON.

with full nelson—more than anything, sukuna likes to leave his favorite girl feeling stretched.

so stretched to where you can feel him reach the very deep pits of your cunt. he leaves you with ropes of his cum oozing out of you, he can’t help it — especially with a size he has. a thick shaft with staggering inches, every time he pumps another load into you, you’re drooling for more.

“oh, you’re so weak today,” he huffs out in a single breath, watching your lifeless body just dangle against his lap.

your legs were held above your head and within minutes, pretty eyes of yours were on the verge of rolling way back toward depths of your skull to see only splotches of pure black. you’re a whiny mess, barely able to synchronize with his rigorous pace. his front forearms has your legs in place, another is strumming the calloused tips of his fingers against your jittery hips. he’s so deep that you can feel the bulge of his dick extend through your tummy. a hand of his grabs your chin, pulling down on your bottom lip. “my, i’ve got such a such a sloppy girl,” he points out, brushing a thumb against your lips that was glistening with sweet spit. “with an even sloppier pussy.” and a hand of his reaches down to spank against your folds. you whine, feeling your entire body heat up from something as simple from his notorious touch.

“su— sukunaaaa,” you’d whine, basically being treated like a rag doll. a perfect way to capture your physical essence. just being thrown around, he punctures everywhere inside of your goopy walls, making his cock get known between your heat. your moans only grow louder until he shoves two fingers into your mouth. fluttering lashes lower before you happily suck on his fingers, swirling your tongue against his digits and he cackles. “mphmmm.”

“good girl, suck on them. use that little mouth for somethin’ more important,” and with each bounce of your hips, your brows furrow in pleasure. a jumbled of nerves that rest inside your stomach continues to build up—you know that particular feeling approaching and it was pure bliss. a brief twinge of a sting resides near your entrance as he hits against a spot that leaves your eyes widening. he found your secluded g-spot. a hand of yours squeezes onto the curses’s thigh and he hums in amusement. “oh, i found that little spot didn’t i, pretty?” and his pace quickens ever so slightly, hefty dick slamming into you time and time again. “this— pathetic spot . . riiiiight fuckin’ here?”

his breath was hot, all up against the soft lobe of your ear. with his deep voice alone, you’d cream all over his cock without any sorts of shame. jocularly, sukuna seeps his fangs into your neck, a low guffaw following from the back of his throat. you sucked on his fingers until you gag as response. you then pout as he pulls them out, stringy webs of saliva following his two digits.

“i-i’m gonna cu—” and your words get interrupted by the goading prod of his cock thrashing against that same spot. your mouth grows ajar and a sweet raw moan exits from your lips. you’re so at disbelief that you end up gushing all on his lap yet he doesn’t even notice you squirted until you look down.

“hmph,” sukuna scoffs, one of his arms reaching down between your legs. he smears his stubby thumb against your entrance, feeling how doused it was with your slick arousal. taking you out of the flexing minacious position, he turns you to face him now. prodding a thumb between your now swollen folds, he delves a finger inside before pulling it out, only to pop the same finger into his mouth. you watch, tremulous breaths leaving your mouth and he smugly smiles, taking pride in your embarrassed state.

“how sweet,” and as he laps up the mess on his fingers on his own tongue, he grabs your chin again, pulling you into a kiss. you whine, returning the gesture almost immediately. you’re needy still, grinding against the king’s lap—his dick that was laid against him flat, so thick and even more full. he snickers between the kisses, holding you close and you taste yourself on his mouth. after a while, he departs away before grumbling. “off. you made a mess on me, woman,” and he crosses his arms, a pout on his lips. “don’t just sit there. clean it off with your tongue, i’ll wait.”

HIGURUMA ✰ FACE RIDING

“a-ah,” he lets off a soft sigh, bringing a few kisses towards your inner thighs. you bring up you want to ride his nose and after that moment, it easily becomes his favorite position. he’s gentle, making sure to attack near the very sweet crevices with his lips. with an amused, jocular raise of a brow, he runs a thumb down your sopping wet slit. “aw, you wanna ride it, dontcha? you’ve been starin’ at my nose all day, sugar.”

with a twitch of your lips, you shift your weight that’s barely hovering over his mouth. “yes,” and hiromi’s got nothing more than tender smile— he knew what you wanted, ride his face but most importantly, ride his nose. “i just— i don’t wanna suffocate you with my thighs though, ‘romi. want you to be able to breathe.”

he ambushes your folds with a multitude of kisses before a sly grin forms against his pink sheeny lips. “you won’t do such a thing,” he reassures you, and you whine once he creates a single licking stripe near your entrance. “there there, just lay it on me, sweetheart,” and his voice couldn’t have been any more soothing— it’s alluring, each syllable that drags out of his mouth has you pulsing continuously. dark irises stare into you before he blows softly against your cunt. “give it to me, sit on my face ‘n enjoy the ride. i got ya.”

higuruma’s all laid back comfortably against the bed—he’s ready to feast, the moment you finally sink your quavering weight down onto him, his tongue makes a quick greeting. you bite your lip, the cold texture residing on his tongue makes you squirm a bit. “f-fuuuck, hiromi,” you whine, peering your eyes down and his hooded lids were already growing low and heavy. two rough hands of his grasp tightly against your ass, occasionally brushing his thumbs against your warm skin. his movements were slow but precise—he makes sure to allow his tongue to rummage all throughout your pussy. just a single taste and he’s already craving for more.

you’re addictive,

as you’re still trying to flutter your hips over his mouth but he only pulls you further down. you moan, feeling the slickness of your cunt rub against his nose. it slides against the bumpy bridge of it and he groans. with rough pants, he breaks away every few seconds to give you a praise or two, “thaaaat’s it, ride it jus’ like that, sugar.”

he had to multitask from breathing through his mouth and nose—you had him going feral, his tongue knew no bounds. it swirls all through your entrance before he starts to suck against the pulsating nub of your clit. that particular spot does something to your brain. higuruma studies your moments—every jolt your thighs does he watches, how sensitive, how needy you were. all from a few licks, the feeling of his nose prodding against your cunt was a soft gnarled texture. it tickles a bit at first before you’re left with moaning repeatedly. “hngh, so good, ‘romi. don’t stop p-please.”

he shoots you a sneer, a thumb of his snaking towards your clit to play with it also. the nerves you felt in every part of your clit makes you stupid. perspiring hands crawl into his hair, getting a good grip of his strands being lightly tugging on it. “m-mphm,” he likes that. whenever you’d give his hair just the slightest pull, it drives him crazy. you resume to grind your hips into his mouth, slowly. your rhythm despite how it wasn’t as fast as he initially wanted has him hard. higuruma feels the strain in his black work slacks the more your sweet whimpers reverberate across the entire room. the walls were quite thinx yet he could care less. if anything, the only thing that mattered between was your preciously candied pussy. his favorite treat—a dish he’d continue to ask for seconds.

strands of his hair tangle within your fingers, the vigorous buckling of your hips barely have hi time to process. he’s so sloppy, the slight curve of his tongue explores all inside the entrance of your saturated entrance and a whine dies out your throat. “m-mh, more ‘romi. your tongue’s so good,” and your voice remains to shake—you were sensitive, not before long the entire middle part of his face was covered with a sheet of your arousal. so soaked—you couldn’t help but drench him a bit, his stubble becomes glistening in your heat and he moans. you taste sweet, with low eyes he makes eye contact with you for a moment and the butterflies that reside inside your tummy makes you pulse. he feels the pulse in his mouth, stimulating every part with the tip of his tongue. he lays it flat, allowing it to ferret everywhere before he reaches there.

that sweetened g-spot—the moment his tongue shows itself towards your most precious slick orifice, he leaves it a few sweet kisses. mwah after mwah, long black lashes close as he shows your spot the utmost signs of affection. after all, he wanted to make sure he tasted all of you.

CHOSO ✰ MISSIONARY.

“don’t hide, please,” choso whispers, rutting between you. two big hands of his strokes your cheek, making sure you return his beatific gaze. dark gentle pools of eyes intake your alluring beauty before he moans into your neck. “you’re so w-warm. i love you, love makin’ you feel good.”

“i love you too,” you breathe, moaning quite a bit yourself. your voice was sweet, laced with some kind of addictive sound that makes his ears twitch whenever you speak. choso loves missionary because of how intimate it is. skin to skin, body to body—he loves the hot warmth your own body provides him every time. he’s way more vocal than you, he can’t help but suck against your skin as he’s stuffing you full of guiltless inches. “fuck,” you’d wheeze, rubbing the back of your ankle down his back. you feel him shiver at that, his face turns flustered before he reaches to hold your hand. in bed, choso was always a needy baby. he desperately wanted your touch, without it he felt like he’d die. perhaps he was a bit of a drama queen whenever it came to affection, but he was your drama queen. “choso, don’t stop your moans, baby.”

he grows quiet once you notice. the main reason he went to suck against your tender neck was to stop his whimpering whines.

he was always so embarrassed about them—so insecure.

he was forever so sensitive, the way you clamp down on him makes his breath nearly get caught in his throat. “but-” and you shyly smile, squeezing his hand tighter as his hips quicken. he’s about to finish early—you were quite familiar with his timid body language. it always gave him away. you pull him in for a quick chaste kiss, crimson lips of his mashing against yours and he pouts. once you pull away, he wants more. choso leans for a kiss and you kiss back, kiss after kiss. he feels the tip of his cock reach all sorts of mew depths within your walls. he’s clouded, feeling a rushing wave of crazed nirvana over take him sweetly. “i’m too noisy.”

“i like when you’re noisy,” you reassure him, and you visibly watch him melt into your hands. he’s so cute—you’ve got his heart throbbing, you’re so tender and patient with him that he’s falling more and more in love. choso’s tempo slows down a bit and he feels a concise spasm in the undersides of his thighs. he moans at your tenderized compliment, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

he’s still holding onto your hand, stubby fingertips sliding against yours. his touch—a perfect way to describe it was that it was hot, parching. you made him feel hot in every way and he never wanted the feeling to stop. “you can be a little louder, ‘cho. ‘s just you ‘n me.”

“you s-sure?” he whines, mending your cunt with a new shape from his jagged thrusts. he was so big, you had to constantly gnaw on your lip to conceal your own indecent noises. with a low voice, he still sounds as sweet as a kitten—his darkened brows twitch, awaiting for your answer whilst he prepares to gift your pussy with another precious gift of cum.

you have a soft smile. “i’m sure, baby,” and with a smeck, you kiss the pale temple of his cheek. choso’s heart was racing miles a minute. the moment he ends up finishing, he doesn’t hide his moans.

this time, he ends up giving you a deep kiss while his orgasm mercilessly pulls out of him. it leaves him breathless, tumefy lips of his gets swollen from each contact your own lips makes with his. he was always weak for your kisses, he’d go crazy without one.

“good boy,” you whisper, feeling his seed trickle all inside of you. hot sticky ropes, your legs snake around his slim waist, forevermore pulling him in. “let’s stay like this forever.”

“we- we will,” he mewls out, a gasp of exhaustion snatching out of him, he’s just on top of you, resting his head against your chest — still inside of you, plugging you in fully. choso’s voice was a bit raspy, strands of his hair tickle against your skin before he kisses your breasts. “i’ll never leave you. we’ll be together f-forever, princess.”

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 4 | masterlist

-

There’s nothing else to do but pretend it didn’t happen. 

In the morning, you’re surprised to wake up and find him in the bed next to you, still covered in old sweat and dried cum. You suppose even in your sleep you’d unconsciously expected him to avoid the incident altogether—wake up extra early to shower while leaving you alone in the bed, giving you a modicum of privacy to digest the situation and its repercussions on your own.

He does no such thing.

“Morning, sweetheart,” John rumbles, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Feeling alright?”

Dangling precariously over the edge of oblivion. Some kind of abyss. The kind that says you might not like what’s down here, girlie, but still you sit by the edge and kick your feet. 

“Yeah,” you croak, and Lord, your voice is hoarse. Scratchy and rough, like it’s been dragged over sandpaper. 

“Good.” He lets his hand rest on the curve of your cheek for a second before pulling it away. “Why don’t you get cleaned up? I’ll shower after.”

The bed groans under his weight when he sits up, throwing his legs over the side before rising to his feet. You quickly avert your eyes at the sight of his naked backside, hairy there as well. A bear all over. Even his yawn reminds you of one. And the way that he stretches his arms overhead and every bone in his upper body cricks and cracks, the sounds of age manifold. 

You scrub yourself with shaky hands in the shower, gnawing at your bottom lip when you spread your puffy folds to find his cum still slightly tacky inside of you. Very bad. Scooping as much out as you can with your fingers, watching it run down the drain. Very bad indeed. 

John has breakfast on the table when you come downstairs and it seems, somehow, uncouth to just tell him you want to go home. So instead you force yourself to sit and eat, glad that he at least agrees that it isn’t the time for conversation. 

At the door, he sees you off with a hug, watching you from the door until you reverse out of his driveway and drive off, waving as you leave. 

“This is really bad,” you whisper to yourself on the drive home. “Really, really bad.”

Despite the morning after, the night you spent together is never explicitly spoken about. It’s not a ‘thing’ you discuss by any means. No sit down conversation, no awkward allusions to it, no talking around and around the events until the exchange becomes unbearable. It simply blips out of existence as soon as you change into your old clothes and John walks you to the door, seeing you out. 

You still show up the next day, as usual. Nothing’s changed except everything, but it feels taboo to even mention that things feel different. 

The world hasn’t radically changed since you accidentally slept with John, but it certainly feels that way sometimes. In the few delicate hours after leaving his house, you were sure he’d call at any moment to tell you that your services would no longer be required—that he’d send your last check in the mail before parting ways. So sure of that, in fact, that you’d put your phone on silent for hours before mustering up the courage to check your missed calls later that evening.

Only a few texts from friends. No missed calls from your employer. 

He doesn’t fire you. He certainly doesn’t treat you any differently the next time you come to babysit. You still get paid every week—though, admittedly, the money makes you feel a little weird now after sleeping with him, but it’s not like you can just turn your nose up at making rent—and everything else in your life stays exactly the same. If you weren’t now acutely aware of the feeling of your boss coming inside you, you might even think you dreamt it up. 

Still, despite John never bringing it up or even alluding to sleeping with you, there’s still a sense that he—

The soft, affectionate thanks, hun that he gives you when you bring him a glass of water on the rare day he comes home early to work out in the garage makes you shiver. 

His need to touch increases tenfold, matched only by his proprietariness. He must feel like after what you did together, it’s nothing for him to squeeze your thighs when he tells you that you did a good job with the baby or hug you extra tight when you’re about to leave. 

If you’re extra shy around him, he doesn’t remark on it. 

You’re levelheaded enough to know that he shouldn’t be so touchy with his younger female employee—his babysitter no less—especially after what happened, but it’s not as though he treats you like sleeping with you is a given. When a week goes by and nothing happens, you almost relax. Almost. Enough to let your guard down. 

But—

You can’t stop thinking about it though. It runs through your head every hour of every day, made worse by the fact that you see him six days a week, Sundays excluded. Sundays being your one day off, which you no longer look forward to but rather dread because Sundays mean no baby, no park, and no John Price.

So, you follow his lead and pretend like it didn’t happen. 

You think it’s past you; a terrible mistake that’ll never happen again until it happens again. 

Eight o’clock at night and the blue light from the television has begun to strain your eyes. Baby sleeping upstairs—you put him down a few hours earlier without much of a peep; had to check on him a few times, but otherwise the baby monitor sitting on the end table hasn’t so much as crackled, leaving you no choice but to doze off on the couch. 

When the door opens, it startles you awake. 

“Mr. Price?” you ask, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and clearing your throat.

John’s there when you twist around to peek over the back of the couch, filling out the door frame. Dishevelled after a long day’s work, his beard even more grown out than when he left earlier in the morning. A bit rougher around the edges, the day leaving its mark in the slight dark circles under his eyes and the set of his jaw, which only relaxes when he lays eyes on you. 

“Just me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, I…the baby’s been asleep for awhile, so I just thought I’d—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I know you’ve got it under control.”

“Let me just get my stuff and I’ll be out of your hair—”

He cuts you off with a wave, toeing his boots off at the same time. “No, no, no—you stay there and finish your movie. I’m gonna grab a drink and join you.”

There’s not much more you can say to that. Instead, you watch him take his bag upstairs to put away in the bedroom before you hear the sink turn on. Running water. 

You carefully avoid looking at him when John comes back downstairs, the creaking steps signalling his descent. He heads to the kitchen without stopping by the living room first. The light switches on with a click. The fridge door opens and bottles clinking together when he roots around for something to drink. 

And then you hear him make his way back to the living room. 

The unspoken pact to not bring up what happened the last time you spent any alone time together imbues you with a false sense of security. Part of you expects him to take the single recliner next to the couch, if only to put some distance between the two of you. 

Except when he comes back into the living room, he plops right down in the middle of the couch like always, close enough to you that you’re forced to scoot away, pressed up against the arm of the sofa. You shiver when he cracks open his beer and takes a swig, resting his arm on the back of the couch with the can held in a loose grip. 

“What’re we watching?” he asks, blatantly adjusting himself to get more comfortable on the couch. Even soft, the outline of his cock is visible through his trousers. 

You stare over at him nervously, unblinking. 

“Sweetheart?” John prompts when you don’t answer. 

“Oh, um…” You clear your throat again. “It’s just a Hallmark movie.”

“Cute. Well, we can keep it on. No sense changing it now.”

It’s tense for a little while. You keep your hands folded in your lap like a good girl and your eyes on the television. So you can’t stop inhaling the heady scent of tobacco and vanilla. So you can’t stop blinking your eyes, each blink heavier than the last until they spend more time shut than open. So you yawn and burrow deeper into the cushions, your head tipping back and nearly jarring you awake when you lean too far and topple over the side. 

When you lean the other way and start to doze off on his shoulder, he pulls you onto his lap. You squirm, initially resistant, but he shushes you before you can put up a fuss. 

“Just don’t want you to drool on my shirt,” he teases in a low murmur, smoothing a hand down your side and then it’s lights out for you. 

You wake to a blunt intrusion at your entrance. Half-awake and squirming, you vaguely feel him rub the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, teasing himself. The second you squirm just a little too much, he uses that little bit of movement to push the tip in. It pops in without much resistance; then the slow, methodical press inward, your walls squeezing around the thick length thrusting up into you. 

“Wha—” you whimper, keening when a big hand glides up your chest to squeeze a tit, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“S’alright, baby, it’s just me,” John murmurs, his voice right in your ear. 

You come to gradually and then all at once, aware of your back pressed to his clothed chest and your legs spread around his, your ankles hooked around his calves. Skirt rolled up and panties pushed to the side, one of his arms locked around your waist like a seatbelt to hold you in place. 

“John, I’m—we c-can’t do it again—”

“Sorry, honey,” he apologises into your neck, kissing the area he just spoke into. “Had to be inside you again. S’all I’ve been able to think about since you came on my cock the other night. Promise it’ll be easier this time, okay, baby?”

He guides you down his length until he bottoms out, slick lips kissing the base of his dick. The pressure is overwhelming; in your belly, in your throat, in your head. Heart beating a million miles a minute. Walls throbbing around his length, thicker and heavier than you remembered. 

All you can think of now is the last time he had you like this, legs spread for him and pussy dripping wet. Taking his cock all sleepy and sweaty under his giant comforter, whimpering into his neck. 

It’s not as frantic this time, no rush to the finish line. He seems to like just burying his cock in you while he plays with your breasts, pinching and plucking your nipples until they’re pebbled and sore. His hands aren’t particularly soft either, callused from years of hard labour. When you whine and try to push his hands away, he shushes you again, not paying your protests any mind. 

“Fuck, these are pretty,” John praises, staring down at your tits from over your shoulder. “No, baby, jus’ watch your show. M’gonna use your pussy for a bit, okay?”

It’s just that it’s—

When he lets go of your breast to play with your clit instead, you melt, any resistance going up in flames. The heat fans over your cheeks, your eyelids too heavy to lift, vision blurring even when you try to focus. 

He helps you grind your hips down on him, big hands like manacles on your waist. Little undulations of your hips. Short, shallow thrusts that keep you both right on the edge, drenching his lap with your juices. When he gets bored of playing with your clit, he switches back to your breasts, pawing at them and then bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth. 

Any time you get distracted by what he’s doing, he stops, holding you down on his cock and coaxing you to focus on the television in front of you instead. 

When he jiggles your clit, you seize up, heart hammering in your throat. 

“Good girl, c’mon—jus’ like that.” John presses a hot kiss to your temple, arm tightening around your front to keep you close. Sweet talks you through your orgasm, all vaguely paternalistic and patronising in the best and worst way.  

He makes you lean forward so he can bounce you on his dick after, your hands braced on his knees to keep yourself upright. 

“Ah, ah, ah, ah—”

“Almost there, honey, jus’—fuck, perfect, yeah, tighten up like that. Good fuckin’ girl.”

He comes with a strangled moan, still cognizant enough to keep the volume down even if you can’t. Shuttles you down onto his cock a few more times until you’re filled to the brim with cum. 

In the aftermath, he sits you back against his sweat-matted chest and pushes his cum back into your sore cunt with his fingers when it dribbles out. Ignores your wounded little sounds like they’re just background noise. He even makes you suck his fingers to clean them up, the digits coated in your combined juices. 

“Best fuckin’ girl,” John growls, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. Your fingers twitch feebly in your lap. 

Pretending like it didn’t happen after the second time around doesn’t seem wise, but still you don’t know how to broach the subject. 

Especially since you know it’s going to happen again. 

John doesn’t say it outright, but his actions speak for themselves. An arm looped around your waist casually in line for coffee. Paying for the two of you in any situation, you having your own source of income be damned. 

“It’s my money anyway, sweetheart,” he says when you point that out. “Might as well just pay now.”

And doesn’t that just send you into a tizzy, head spinning and mouth agape. Embarrassingly so. 

Not to mention you still have this strange, sycophantic need to please him, even after everything. The complicated nature of your relationship aside, it still makes your heart flutter to hear him praise you for anything. 

That’s how you end up in his bed on a Saturday afternoon, taking a nap with him after a long day out in the sun. Two hours spent at the botanical gardens, the sun beating down on your head, lathering sunscreen on the baby’s sensitive little arms and legs, and swiping it over his cheeks. John sporting a mild sunburn near the collar of his shirt where he forgot to apply sunscreen and when you have the audacity to giggle, he pulls your baseball hat down over your eyes. 

It’s almost too easy for him to coax you into his bed, even though you’re adamant about keeping it clean. A hand firm on your back up the stairs. Already yawning when you put the baby down for a nap, so why not take one too? Ushering you into the bedroom when you say you can take the couch, but why, he presses, take the couch when you’ve already shared the bed before?

Well, because the last time—

He draws the blinds shut and climbs into bed, pulling you into his chest. 

You wake up to John plastered against your back, bare cock nudging against your cunt while he snores into your neck. You don’t remember him curling up next to you without any clothes on, but he must have taken off his pants in his sleep, now somewhere rumpled at the end of the bed. 

When you try to quietly pull away, his arms just tighten around you more, grumbling in his sleep. The sound makes you freeze, going quiet as a mouse. A few more minutes go by before you feel confident enough to try moving again, carefully trying to slide out from his hold. 

You wiggle a hand out, reaching for the other end of the bed.

The hand resting on your belly dips low, shoved between your legs and feeling you up before you can do more than gasp. The man behind you gives a short exhale, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, rising out of it like a wave now that he feels something wet under his hand.

“Oh, honey…why didn’t you tell me you needed my cock again? You’re leaking right through your panties,” John rasps, dragging your underwear down to mid-thigh. 

A big bear hand clamps over your mouth before you have a chance to protest. There’s nothing you can do to keep his knee from spreading your legs and feeding his cock into your drenched centre with his other hand. As soon as he notches the head against your entrance, it’s a smooth glide in. 

“There we go,” he pants into your neck. “Big stretch—ah, yeah, nice ‘n tight. That’s my pretty girl.”

He keeps your legs spread with a hand on the inside of your thigh. All you can do is moan behind his hand, humid breath blowing back around your face as you pant. So hot for it that you’re almost nauseous. 

You’re a bit too tight for him to fit his cock in you, so he has to work to stretch you out, bullying another inch into you with every thrust. The angle makes it tricky though; means he can’t get more than half of his cock into you. It’s hardly comfortable for you either, your leg already cramping. 

“My leg’s got a cramp,” you whine, unsure of what you want to happen. All you know is that you can’t keep this up. 

He readjusts his grip, but that just makes you hiss, wincing when that makes your leg twinge. Suddenly the world spins, the pillows going from comfortably under your head to right in your face, John manoeuvring you onto your tummy and hiking your hips up a few inches. It lets him get even deeper, the angle letting him slide right to the hilt. 

“Oh god, oh god—John, I can’t—”

“Shh—you’re alright, honey. Much better like this,” he breathes, settling on top of you. It takes him a second to get comfortable, nudging right up against a sensitive spot inside of you the whole time, so deep you can almost feel him in your throat. 

He weighs a ton on top of you, rutting between your thighs like he can’t hold himself back, his self-control snapping like brittle glass. Bristly beard chafing your neck when he buries his head to suck on the tender skin there, smothering you under his weight. Thighs trapping you in place, your memory jumping back to that time at the beach, but now there’s nothing between you. Just a thick cock pounding into you and moulding you around its shape.  

His hips slap against your ass with every thrust, the lewdest sound you’ve ever heard. 

“Gonna make sure it takes this time,” John grunts. “Wanna take care of my baby so bad? I’ll give you a couple to mind.”

That rattles you right to your core; shakes you to the foundations of who you are. You don’t know what to think, what to say—tongue tied and loose lipped all at once. You’ve let him come inside of you so many times that if it hasn’t taken already, surely it will soon. 

It slips out before you can take it back. “D-daddy, please—” 

That makes him lose his mind. Just a bit. 

“Fuck,” he snarls. “Again.”

He wedges his arm under you to curl his hand around your throat, tilting your head out. 

“Daddy—daddy—please, I wanna come—” you pant, repeating the same word until it sounds like nothing, tongue puffy in your mouth. 

His dick slips out at some point and he wrenches himself off you long enough to wrap his hand around himself and slap it against your ass a few times, cum tagging your skin. Your breath catches in your throat, whining when you clench down on nothing. One stroke after repositioning himself and he’s all the way back in, hammering the spot that makes you go cross-eyed and squeak. 

“Make daddy another baby, okay, sweetheart?” It’s not sweet. It’s not doting. It’s growled into your ear like a demand, punctuated by the way his hips snap forward, nearly sending you into the headboard. 

You’re practically an old hat at taking his cum now, squeezing up when you can feel it coming and giving him a nice little treat. He sinks his teeth into the back of your neck when he does, muffling the sound roaring out of him, and it hurts. 

He’s tender with you after though. Lavishes the line of your neck with soft kisses; murmurs sweet nothings into your ear while you cry fat tears onto the pillow. Even twists and turns so you’re no longer on your back but rather splayed across his chest again, urging you up for a deeper kiss with tongue. 

“‘Know you’re tired, sweetie, but this is for your own good,” John murmurs as he wedges a hard thigh between your legs and makes you ride it, grinding your sensitive, throbbing clit down on the muscle. “Can you come, baby? Jus’ like that—that’s good, baby—”

It hurts so good that you don’t even notice when you squirt, the emotions too big for you. It’s like being squeezed too tight, unable to catch your breath or say anything but the same word on a loop. John’s sweet about it though—wipes the sweat from your hairline and upper lip, talking you through it until you slump down on his chest, legs akimbo.   

For a bachelor, you think in a daze, he’d make a good husband.

The days grow colder and the sun sets earlier.

A while ago you thought maybe this babysitting gig would be temporary. That at some point you’d move on—maybe go back to school or apply for a more standard nine-to-five job. That’s how the trajectory of your life was supposed to go, you think. 

But the timing never seems right. Maybe you’ve grown too attached to the baby or maybe the pay is just too good to give up or maybe you’ve just become habituated to someone getting you off at least every other day. Still, it feels a bit weird to get paid for what essentially boils down to fucking a man and taking care of his baby. 

It comes up when you’re sitting out on the porch with him again, this time in his lap in the same adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around you to keep you warm. John laces his fingers through yours, thumb stroking over your finger, burning a line into the skin.

“Doesn’t it make you feel weird to pay me for…” you say, trailing off with a cocked eyebrow. Surely he must catch your drift. 

He chuckles. You wait for the joke.

Your eyes must be big as moons staring up at him. 

“Don’t think of it as a paycheck, sweetheart. That’s your allowance.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and swallow. 

“Okay,” you whisper. Then let him reel you back in for another kiss, his thumb resting over your ring finger and pressing.