#silent barge

[browneyes-asiandragon]

My jackbox code is straight up lust?!?!??

[little-shiny-sharpies]

Really feeling like Ginger from chicken run today

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … NANAMI KENTO & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 429k views

⁺ 🧃　 ♡ ₊﹒ ⌣

꩜: actor!nanami x actress!reader

⤷ a short compilation of y/n & nanami moments!

sfw, fluff, accidental kisses, ooc nanami kinda

. art credits to @/osusiudon on twitter

masterlists

*

౨ৎ first clip

“whereee is nanamiiii?” you whine, filming yourself as you walk around the set, trying to find your favourite cast member. you walk through a door. “nanamiii-oh there he is..”

you look surprised and then you tell the camera, “shhhh..nanami is asleep..”

you tiptoe towards where he lays passed out on a couch with his costume goggles right beside him. you turn the camera around to face nanami, his mouth agape as little snores passed through.

“awwww.. he looks so cute..”

you put the camera close to his face, making nanami look funny. “haha..i’m so keeping this-”

nanami snorts suddenly and shifts in a rapid movement, shocking you and making you drop your phone on his poor face.

“ahh!” you cry. fumbling ensues before you get your camera upright again, pointing it at a now awake, disappointed looking nanami, sitting up on the couch as he stares at you blankly. his hair is messy, tie askew and his eyes tired.

“sorry nanami…did i wake you??”

“…”

“…”

nanami sighs and rubs his eyes. “i don’t know _____. did you barge in here, record me and drop your phone on my face?”

“…oops?”

nanami stares at you some more and then you pat his head in apology.

“sorry, nanamin…”

he sighs again. “why are you like this…”

౨ৎ second clip

the paparazzi secretly filmed you and nanami exiting a store (which they had followed you both to). now of course, fans criticised said paparazzi, but after seeing the video themselves…they couldn’t be all that sad about it.

you and nanami walk out of the automatic doors, arms linked and nanami carries the shopping bag.

you’re eating your little treat, strolling with nanami to the sidewalk when he points to your shoes, noticing that your laces are undone.

he speaks and you just shrug, continuing to eat, uncaring of your unlaced shoes that are a hazard.

nanami has you hold the grocery bag temporarily and then kneels down and ties your laces securely, all the while you chew on your food and smile down at him.

he stands up and takes the bag from you to carry once more. you inaudibly talk before linking arms with him again and resting your head on his shoulder while you both walk away.

౨ৎ third clip

the director yells cut and you are immediately running towards nanami and throwing your arms around his shirtless waist, careful to avoid the very intricate, realistic body paint covering half of his body.

“nanami! please don’t dieeeee!” you cry, looking up at him, “who’s going to be my emotional support actor?”

nanami huffs and pats your back, “_____…i won’t disappear..i’ll still be on the set…”

“it’s not the same!” you grumble into his chest. “it’s like you died for real!”

“no it’s not. i’ll visit everyday until this series ends.”

“really?” you look up at him, eyes glossy, “you better not be lying. promise?”

“yes, i promise.” he sighs fondly.

“okay..”

still hugging him, you turn to look at the camera and blatantly check out his shredded torso and thick, strong arms. nanami just stands there, confused.

you rest your head on one of his pecs, looking at the camera and smiling. “i get to do this everyday, you know.”

nanami scoffs and shakes his head at you. you are unbelievable.

౨ৎ fourth clip

you and the a few members of the cast of jujutsu kaisen had agreed to play a game of “silent library”for charity and nanami had agreed to play too, which shocked both the cast and the fans considering nanami rarely participated in games like this.

nanami has struck luck so far but it runs out on the sixth round.

the cards are handed out and suspense rises when you all quickly flip them over.

you groan out loud before slapping a hand over your mouth when you see that you’ve received the death card.

looking around, you notice that nanami and gojo also share the same card, and you point at them confused, while the members who are safe sigh in relief and thank god.

nanami closes his eyes and gojo slumps in his chair dramatically, making a weak noise in his mouth. you snort. you’re quickly hushed.

the name of the game is presented, “suck and blow”, and poorly stifled chuckles ring around the room. you rub your eyes, already dreading what’s about to come.

gojo eyes you, making a come hither motion with his long finger and swear at him silently. nanami is silent and looks between the two of you blankly.

the aim of the game? all three players must pass plastic card between them with only their lips.

your head falls onto the table, gojo is grinning and nanami is, as always, sighing.

the three of you sit on stools, with yourself insisting on being in the middle.

“i could’ve sworn i’ve had a dream just like this…” gojo whispers and nanami is leaning all the way around to smack the back of his head. gojo gasps and utahime scolds at him to shut his mouth.

the plastic card is given to gojo and the timer begins. he sucks it to his lips, cheeks hollow and he looked very stupid. gojo grabs your head and presses the card to your lips, making it seem like you are both kissing. you grunt and begin smacking the side of his face. suppressed laughter can be heard around you as you forcefully pull away from gojo.

you purse your lips, holding the plastic card on them as best as you can and turning to face nanami. he leans in, ready to get this over with.

it happened so fast.

nanami’s face is close to yours as you move to transfer the plastic card to his lips..and then the card falls.

it falls and you’re kissing nanami for half a second.

you gasp and pull back, embarrassed and covering your face.

you hear a squeal, a loud gasp and shocked laughter as you drown in shame. nanami sits there, fiddling, not knowing what to do with his hands and his face is clearly pink.

gojo teases you both to no end and the timer is already up.

it’s safe to say you all lost that round.

౨ৎ fifth clip

nanami is forced to go on a talk show (as he claims his manager made him do it ).

his responses are perfect and polite - nanami clearly has some sort of media training or an upper class background of some sort. it’s like nothing could catch him off guard whatsoever.

nanami is talking and then, the host interrupts. “are you and _____ dating?”

the audience chuckles and nanami is caught off guard. “wh-what?” nanami breathes out, a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “what?”

“are you and _____ dating?”

“no…” nanami clears his throat, gulping, “no of course not…”

“what do you mean “of course not?” do you not like _____?”

“what? of course i like-” nanami cuts himself off with a deep sigh and the crowd laughs at his embarrassment and fluster. “_____…_____ is a lovely woman, she’s a respected colleague, a valued friend, she’s-”

“well since you like her so much, let’s bring her out!” the host flings his arm out in the direction of the entrance stairway, “give a warm welcome to _____!”

“?”

the crowd is screaming as you walk in, waving at them with a warm smile on your face and sit next to nanami.

nanami looks at you, face red. “i-”

“don’t let him stop you.” you say, referring to the host’s interruption and the cheers erupting from the sea of people. “keep talking about me!”

nanami sighs. “shit…”

౨ৎ sixth clip

you’re being interviewed on the red carpet by a boisterous, joyful middle aged lady who asks you many questions, one of them being, “fuck, marry, kill”.

“okay fuck, marry, kill with getou suguru, nanami kento and gojo sa-”

“easy,” you cut in, not even hearing the rest of the question, “fuck getou, marry nanami and kill gojo. easiest question i’ve had so far!”

on the other end of the carpet, nanami is being asked the same questions except with actresses, one of them being you.

“fuck marry kill - utahime iori, _____ or shoko ieiri?!”

“marry _____, fuck utahime and kill shoko. goodnight.” he abruptly walks away, not even waiting for the interviewer to respond and leaves them flabbergasted.

*

a/n: feel like i rambled a lot in this one..oh well. also i’m not accepting requests for actor!nanami right now🤗🩷

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. all sukuna needs is someone to take care of his needs after a stressful day—that someone being you, his favorite concubine.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. smut, angst towards the end. objectification kinda, size kínk, p in v -> unprotected, choking (nearly goes wrong), breeding kink, standing doggy, sukuna has two cawks, reader gets called ‘(little) slut, doll’. uhh sukuna has cannibal-ish desires.. idk how to explain it.

“you,” sukuna barges into the dining hall, not batting an eye to all the other women sitting around. his sharp gaze immediately finds yours in-between the crowd. that’s when you realise that he’s clearly pissed off at someone or something.

everyone freezes and stops eating—scurrying to politely greet and bow at the king of curses. you do the same after a second of processing his unexpected presence.

sukuna barks a command before you can part your lips to ask a question, “into my chambers. now.”

the servants and concubines all look on with wide eyes. they know what that means. some are blushing from embarrassment at sukuna’s bold choice of words—others are silently seething with envy because you’re the centre of his attention again.

all eyes are on you as you get up to follow sukuna. you’re nervous yet also somewhat excited. you were unable to walk straight for a few days the last time sukuna looked and sounded that angry.

but, the embarrassment is certainly also present. especially because everyone knows what the mighty sorcerer and his concubine are going to be up to for the upcoming hours.

“strip,” sukuna firmly says the second you enter his room. you’re used to his distant, rushed behaviour at this point, so you comply. you undo all robes—leaving you completely bare in front of him.

sukuna’s canine teeth show as he grins at the welcoming sight. he steps towards you, his rough hands coming up to fondle your body. he squeezes and fondles your soft flesh with surprising care, “mhmm. this ‘s all i needed.”

it isn’t long before your small body is caged against the nearest wall. your breasts are squished by the cold concrete, your hands the only thing keeping your balance. your fingernails hurt because of you repeatedly scratching the wall.

“i know y’ can get louder than that,” sukuna hisses and sinks his sharp canines into your shoulder. he’s splitting you open, his thick cock dragging along your velvety walls with a purpose. the king of curses unapologetically draws a bit of blood from your flesh, “tsk—moan like the fuckin’ slut you are.”

and you do as told. your voice gets so loud to the point that it’s embarrassing, but you can’t care less. your insides are begging sukuna to continue—to not stop until they’ve turned into mush. until they’re painted white with loads and loads of thick and slippery cum.

“tha’s it, doll,” sukuna huffs as his tongue licks over the bite mark he left on your shoulder. his eyes flash a dangerous red at the sight. he’s doing all he can to suppress the urge to eat you up.

literally.

he’s got this aching carnal desire to devour you. to consume you like it’s his last meal on earth. sukuna can’t stand it, though he tries his best. you’re an interesting human; the reactions you elicit from him are strong. like no one has been able to do so before.

“need more, my lord,” you beg between interrupted moans. you’re drunk on pleasure, oblivious to the fact that sukuna is fighting off his inner demons. you’re obsessed with the way his hips roughly slam against your ass. your body is on fire, “more—more, fnghhh, more!”

all four of sukuna’s hands tighten around your hips and waist. he squeezes you until you feel his nails painfully dig into your skin. you’re making it so hard for him; acting this needy, begging him to ravage you and claim your cunt, mind and soul.

“lost y’r fuckin’ manners, hm?” sukuna grumbles and slaps your ass as punishment, “beg properly.” he spreads your asscheeks after that, squishing the plump fat in attempt to withstand his own sick thoughts.

you look delicious. your dripping pussy that’s wetting both his cocks looks delicious. your body that is much smaller compared to his looks powerless and. . . delicious.

“‘m sorry—please, pleaseee!” you mewl, eyes rolling back into your skull. you’ll never get tired of being pounded until you’re unable to think or talk properly. it’s even better with sukuna, his two cocks are enough to keep you stuffed and satisfied for nth amount of time.

your breath hitches as you feel your feet being lifted from the floor. your legs dangle in the air as sukuna readjusts his grasp on your body so he could support you up against the wall. the new angle he’s fucking you in only increases all the pleasure.

you’re not sure if you can even keep up with him at this point. you’re brainlessly allowing him to position your body however he sees fit.

“shittt, yeah,” sukuna nearly salivates at the sight of your small body accepting its fate. you’re either super easy to please, or he’s just good at what he’s doing. no matter which one it is—sukuna’s making sure that you’re not going to be able to walk after he’s done.

he plunges his upper cock in and out of your wet cunt. each thrust is different than the one before, the pace quickening before slowing down again. he’s clearly teasing you and that’s exactly what drives you crazy.

“my lord—mmh! so deep,” you hiccup, nearly crying because of how many times sukuna hits that sweet spot deep inside your leaking pussy. your brain has shut down and all you can focus on is his thick cock that’s making you moan uncontrollably.

sukuna curses under his breath. you’re so desperate and it makes him want to do unspeakable things. he wants to have you all to himself. he doesn’t know what that overbearing emotion is and it’s frustrating him to no end.

the king of curses only increases his pace after that. he attempts to decrease the flow of thought inside of his mind by pounding you harder. your entire body is trembling and jolting back and forth in place, every thrust of his is met with a loud moan of yours.

“quit whining ‘n just take it,” sukuna pants, not paying mind to your jumbled up sentences. there’s no need for words, his current and only goal is to make your cunt overflow with his cum. if he can’t claim you in an inhuman way, he’ll resort to mark your insides, so no man even thinks of speaking or touching what’s his.

you can feel the passion behind sukuna’s thrusts. you’re still not over the fact that he’s using you like a ragdoll to get himself off. but, it also feels insanely good at the same time. you nod and nod, wanting to satisfy each of sukuna’s desires.

“i’ll let ‘em know,” the king of curses groans once he feels you involuntarily squeeze his upper cock. his lower cock slides between your thighs, back and forth, getting its own stimulation. sukuna finishes his sentence with a guttural grunt, “i’ll let everyone know y’r mine ‘nd mine only.”

he’s serious about this. his hands squeeze your form and you moan at the act of ownership. by the increase of his harsh thrusts, you can tell that he’s close. close to dumping his hot load into your cunt and breed your womb full of him.

sukuna can’t get the image out of his head. you, fully bred, by no one else but him. how you’d walk around the estate with his cum pooling between your legs. the other concubines are going to seethe the second they smell his scent on you— something they can only dream of.

“take it — fucking take it,” sukuna gets more aggressive with the second. he yearns for a release, one that will destress him. though the closer he gets to his climax, the more those carnal desires threaten to take over.

you squeal as you feel one of sukuna’s hands wrap around your neck. he squeezes your throat until you’re gasping for air. you don’t know what’s suddenly got into him, but you’re too far gone to care.

you can hear him growling in your ear from behind—his hips not stopping even as you reach your own orgasm. you curl your fingers around sukuna’s wrist, trying to loosen his grip around your throat before you lose consciousness, “m-mmhhh, can’t breathe.”

your sobs echo throughout the chambers. your climax leaves you spasming in sukuna’s grasp, your cunt feels like it’s on fire as it continues being overstimulated.

sukuna’s too far gone as well. you can feel drops of his drool fall on your bare back. his red eyes are wide, looking down at you like you’re his meal for the day. figuratively, you are. though the king of curses has a desire that urges him to take it literally.

“r-ryo, please!”

it’s only then that sukuna snaps back to his usual self. hearing you call him by that nickname you created both calms him down and turns him on. he loosens the grip on your throat and instead presses you harshly against the wall with one final thrust.

he spills all his heavy balls have stored into your cunt. your pussy floods with his potent seed, the sticky fluid easily finding its way into your womb. you whimper at the warm feeling—sukuna always cums so much. literal buckets.

you can feel the same sticky feeling on your thighs, as well as on the wall after his lower cock spurts out ropes of cum too. you feel yourself being lowered to the floor and you lean against the hard surface to catch your breath.

you take a look over your shoulder and see how sukuna’s eyes are partially hidden behind his sweaty bangs. there’s a dark aura surrounding him, though it slowly disappears the more he calms down.

his hands are still holding your body in place, not ready to let go of you. his upper cock softens up inside of you and you’re unsure of what to do. the silence - except for the heavy breathing - makes you question if you did something wrong.

“something the matter, my lord?” you ask between faint gasps. sukuna doesn’t answer you and instead lets go of your body, pulling himself out of you right after.

if he keeps himself inside of you, he’ll lose it. he’ll do something he feels like he’ll eventually regret.

“get dressed,” sukuna commands harshly. he doesn’t even look at you anymore. he simply pulls the robes over his body again and covers himself. you’re confused, but you do as told either way.

you’re shaking as you fix your undergarments before pulling your kimono over your body again. you’ll fix your make up and disheveled hair later. first, you need to figure out why sukuna’s acting so cold.

sure - he’s always been like that, aftercare and affection was never really his forte - but it’s somehow worse today. once you’re done dressing up, you obediently stand in front of sukuna, looking up at him like you’re expecting another command.

this is usually the moment where you can just relax in his chambers until you fall asleep or until you’ve calmed down. though, today felt off. you’re uneasy by the tension in the air.

the oblivious look in your eyes nearly makes the king of curses pounce on you. you’re so oblivious to what’s going on in his mind. the images that flash through his mind—of you underneath him as he claims your flesh and bones.

your soul. your heart.

“get out,” sukuna hisses. he does not need to spend another second with you in his personal space. no good will come out of it anyway. he can smell himself on you and it’s triggering those same urges that he was fighting off just moments ago.

he longs to sink his teeth in every part of your flesh. to eat you whole like it’s his right.

he clenches his fists and moves to sit on the edge of his bed. to you, sukuna looks mad. perhaps a bit confused with how he’s feeling. he still doesn’t understand why he’s having such strong feelings towards you.

he yearns to claim ownership over you in more ways than one.

you gulp and know that sukuna is not to be messed with when he’s like this. even if you don’t realise why, you simply nod and bow at him before walking out of his chambers. not a word has to be spoken.

you close his doors behind you and yet can’t seem to move away. you’re unsure of what that last interaction between you two meant.

the look in sukuna’s eyes contained something so primal. no, feral.

you remember how he choked you until you were on the verge of passing out. how he held you like he wanted to possess your every being. how he squeezed your body between his and the wall, leaving you no space to breathe.

you run your fingers over the mark on your shoulder. you hiss; the bite mark stung. it didn’t during the moment because of the adrenaline, but now that the effects of the hormone have worn off, you realise just how deep it was. sukuna normally gives you light and small bites, but this one was different.

everything about that passionate session was unusual, overwhelming and… primal.

just what in the world was that?

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 , various !

synopsis: his voice lines about you as his beloved partner

including: veritas, jing yuan, blade

side comments: dw i promise i'm working on the house of musica requests... i just wanted to do this for fun! also this is the first time I've written for jing yuan which is kinda funny. i liked writing for blade again. originally i had welt and aventurine in the mix but i wanted to post this hahaha.

extra: gn reader, angsty and fluffy moments, mentions of marriage, aventurine jumpscare later favourites: blade word count: roughly 2,085+

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

WHO ARE THEY? I "So you're asking about my significant other? Are you shocked that I have a significant other? At the very least consider your question."

FIRST MEETINGS? "I met Professor ( Name ) when they barged into my lecture, they said they were 'lost'. Since then we had several heated debates academically. Have I lost in these debates? Several times yes, consequently making debating with them all the more... interesting. Especially considering that Professor ( Name ) has a well-rounded vault of knowledge in most subjects of academic and social relevance. Finally, a conversation worth my time.

GREETINGS? "Professor ( Name ) considers a good greeting the highest attribute. A curt smile and a cup of coffee suffice, thankfully they know when to remain silent. However, there are instances when they will talk relentlessly. Initially, I used my headpiece around them. Nevertheless, their conversations do occasionally convey subtle insightfulness and definite meaning. Gradually I have come to share some liking towards their rather pleasant 'small talk'."

PARTINGS? "A small kiss on the cheek: be it on my skin or the headpiece, that is all. However, I... have always preferred it on the skin."

ABOUT US: ART "Outside of ( Name's ) academic career, they share a peculiar fondness for art. Be it painting or sculptures they could very well get lost in a museum. When they discovered my fondness for sculptures and anatomy, they were... oddly quiet; tracing their hands over my sculptures- or my face to be exact. ( Name's ) admiration is always shown in silence, one of the greatest forms of praise.

ABOUT US: TRUE APPEARANCES "I have questioned how ( Name ) has perceived our relationship. Considering that we are both colleagues, it can lead to speculation amongst other *sighs* inappropriate comments. Hence, I prefer to keep our relationship known only to those who need to. I believe them to be devout and... undoubtedly caring. I hope my attitude towards them conveys a similar message.

CHAT: WORK "Although we teach different subjects, we occasionally mark or review the work of our students. You may call it a 'second opinion'. Thus, their opinion is one that I trust."

CHAT: SERVICE "( Name's ) actions can initially appear simple-minded. However, underneath simplicity, lies thoughtfulness beyond comparison in both work... and at our residence.

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Film is not an art I deliberately take part in or seek out for leisure. However, ( Name ) was quite adamant and passionate about film. Thus, we've watched a myriad amount of films and TV shows together, both acclaimed and disdained. I have my own varying opinions. I must admit, after a long bath, a film in bed is quite soothing. Considering that ( Name ) similarly enjoys the pleasure of a bath, our nighttime routine is undoubtedly satisfying."

ARGUMENTS: "One must always think before they speak for there is a price to pay. ( Name's ) silence is decisive, deliberate and painful; burning right through your chest. Debates are loud, quarrels are bitterly silent."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: "Solitude is the greatest gift to civilization and self: introspection enlarges the expanse of the mind. However, the pursuit of knowledge is not only found in discovery and text. It is through experience alone. I have found much knowledge in solitude and an equal amount through genuine companionship. Hence, I share my deepest revere. "

WHO ARE THEY? II "My lover. That is who they are to me and all you need to know."

EXTRA: AVENTURINE'S OPINION "I met Ratio's lover when I visited for business matters. But, all that went out of the door! I saw a lovely individual by his desk and thought, 'Who is this?' Ratio never, and I mean never, allows anyone to screw his desk up. Yet, here they were, seated at the edge of his desk toying with his stupid chalk greeting me with a bright smile. We immediately hit off. I suppose Ratio does have some luck in him, but then again, ( Name ) was the one who first asked him out. Less to do with luck, and more to do with destiny. In my opinion, destiny is not something I fully believe in, however, when I watch Ratio and ( Name ), it's difficult to imagine a universe where they aren't together."

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍

WHO ARE THEY? I "You are looking for Commander ( Name )? Sadly they're on a business trip, however, I'd be happy to answer in their place."

FIRST MEETINGS? "( Name ) is an interesting soul. I've heard of their praised skills in combat and decisive thinking. Many assume I met them on the battlefield. Yet, I met them over a coincidental cup of tea."

GREETINGS? “I find it amusing how our everyday greetings have evolved. At first it was a salute. However, I find that a kiss on the cheek is a much more efficient way of greeting and brightening up the mundane tasks *sighs* of work.”

PARTINGS? “Why bid farewell when one hasn’t said hello? Partings have always been bitter. Yet, I find comfort in knowing that all things lead back from whence they came.”

ABOUT US: AGE “Time for long life species is fickle and plainly slow. Despite that, ( Name ) has constantly made time— less daunting and more fun. ( Name’s ) life span… is a touch shorter than that of myself. Hence, they have brought forth a new value in every passing year to which I cherish. This year I plan on doing something special for their birthday— though, don’t tell them that.”

ABOUT US: SILENCE "As much as ( Name ) glows in social settings, they equally enjoy stillness, if not more. There never is any obligation to fill the void when we're together. It is as natural of an act as breathing.

CHAT: PRODUCTIVITY "( Name ) likes to be on task. I, however, don't always find leisure in such activities. ( Name ) quote, 'holds me accountable'. Of course, there are moments in which I can distract them."

CHAT: FELINES "They are quite fond of Mimi. Unfortunately, Mimi is rather... aggressive when around ( Name ) and has been for a considerable amount of time. One time ( Name ) was attempting to bargain with Mimi for her favour. *Chuckles* What a sight.

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Master Diviner Fu Xuan would frown upon it... but I suppose napping on the Seat of Divine Foresight is considered a 'pastime' when done regularly enough."

ARGUMENTS: "I do not attempt to quell the frustrations of my dearest. It is not often they disclose them to me and it does pain me to be the cause of their anger. Nevertheless, if it means the two of us will grow closer, then I will gladly offer myself to the brute force of my dearest. Of course, the swelling of regret still stains the heart."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: I've lived one life yet many all at once. Companions scattered amongst the universe and enemies whose names I've gradually forgotten. Yet, underneath the breath of my dearest, I'm simply a man in his spouse's embrace. Nothing else matters."

WHO ARE THEY? II "My most loving spouse."

EXTRA: FU XUAN'S OPINION "When Commander ( Name ) came into the Seat of Divine Foresight to help the General... he grew all the more 'lazy'. A part of me feels sympathetic towards Commander ( Name ), imagine having your own spouse bully you into doing your work? Alas, it's not my business to speak about their marital life. Besides, the two go hand in hand, like a puzzle piece clicking together. Both can do well without, but when joined together, they are a force to be reckoned with."

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

WHO ARE THEY? I "Their weapon may be thin, but it pierces holes even in the most... stubborn of enemies."

FIRST MEETINGS? "Elio's script is always followed. However, ( Name ) is a detail I did not anticipate or was foretold. My body met the tip of their spear before I saw their face."

GREETINGS? "Over time ( Name ) has grown close to the Stellaron Hunters- especially Kafka. Their presence is imminent despite not being a Stellaron Hunter themselves. ( Name ) smiles whenever we meet, it has always been more than enough."

PARTINGS? "My promised end will come, yet an absurd inkling of regret remains."

ABOUT US: THE BLADE "( Name ) believes the blade to be a form of art. They had said, 'The blade dances in air with undisturbed poise and precision, a kind of mercy not known to themselves.' I asked them why they chose a spear then. They replied, 'Because I could never dare replicate it's beauty.'"

ABOUT US: WOUNDS "( Name ) never wanted to be a traveller, rather, they opted to string fabrics together with a needle and thread. Perhaps that is where their skills come from."

CHAT: MIDNIGHT "The mara is like a ghost. Yet, ( Name ) is a fool. They embrace the ghost I can't seem to remember other than its bottomless spite and fear."

CHAT: SCARS "Their hands never 'keep to themselves'. ( Name ) prefers to trace their hands over surfaces and make shapes. They tend to draw stars... so many stars."

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "When there are no missions, we sleep in silence. Under the guise of sleep and their warmth, immortality does not follow me."

ARGUMENTS: "When all is said and done, silence remains."

SOMTHING TO SHARE: "If there is life after death, then I wish to meet them in the same manner, again and again with that smile and spear."

WHO ARE THEY II? "The person who taught me how to breathe and pressed their lips against my skin."

EXTRA: KAFKA'S OPINION "Blade will never admit it. But, ( Name ) cares for Blade and Blade does too. The pair will never put a name to the push and pull between them. I caught Bladie once; staring out into the open universe searching for something with a spark of life that doesn't belong to a dead body. I wonder if ( Name ) put that there."

masterlist.

[sugume]

THINK I WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY w/Jujutsu Kaisen

( TW ) f!Reader, Breeding kink, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum inflation, hair pulling, sex toys, overstimulation, stepdad!Toji, daddy kink, overstimulation

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru & Choso Kamo

authors note: repost bc tumblr took it down for no reason...

☾ GOJO SATORU

“Fuck Love, you’re sucking me so good.” Satoru groans, struggling to not crash the car. During dinner, you two kept passing each other such heated looks that even your friends commented on the tension. Earlier today, you got a notification from your health app that you were ovulating. Satoru jumped on you as soon you told him, he wanted to stay in all day and fuck, but your guys’ friends blew up his phone reminding him of the promises you both made to them. After dinner you couldn't keep your hands off each other, you were desperate for his cum and Satoru was desperate to breed you. “Don’t cum ‘Toru.” You warn before sticking his cock back in your mouth. “Can’t help it Love, mouth too fuckin’ good,” he says, sighing in relief when he pulls onto your street, clicking the button in his car that opens the garage. He barely has the chance to take the keys out of the ignition before you pull him out of the car. “Don’t have time to make it up to the bed, just fuck me right here.” You demand, leaning over the car and presenting Satoru with your ass. Satoru pulls your dress up and shoves his cock into your pussy. He reaches over your hip to stimulate your clit. “‘Toru, just cum in me, I don't care ‘bout gettin’ off.” You move your ass in perfect sync with his hips. “You sure Love–” “Breed me ‘Toru!” You moan, feeling his cum fill you up. You drop your head to the still-warm hood of the car, finally able to catch your breath now that his load was deep in your cunt. “C’mon Love, let's finish this in the bedroom.” 

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO  

You peak over the corner of the hallway, winking at Toji who was busy talking to your mother. ‘Come fuck me.’ Your mouth once you catch his attention before running back up the stairs, careful not to make any noises. You told your mom that you weren't feeling well, that during the drive back from college you must’ve caught something. In all honestly, you just wanted a chance to freely fuck your stepdad without your mother coming in and out of your room. Specifically, you wanted to be bred by him, and the best way to keep his cum in you was to use several pillows and put them under your ass so his cum didn’t spill out, hence why you didn't want your mom to barge into your room. Thank God she's a germaphobe. You strip out the Pj set you threw on and lay yourself face down, ass up. Your stepdad’s favorite position. As expected, you hear your stepdad softly shut the door a few minutes later. “Desperate now, are we?” He grips your hips. “Always desperate for you Daddy.” you mumble into the bed. “Huh,” he slaps your ass before pulling you up by the hair. “Didn’t hear you slut.” “Said ‘m always desperate for you Daddy, even prepared myself with the dildo you bought me.” You whimper. “Such a good girl,” He pulls his hard cock out of his slacks, gives it a few tugs before stuffing your cunt to the brim. “Now take this dick slut.” He pushes your head down into your lilac duvet. You try and fail to be silent when his dick hits that special spot every time he goes deep enough. “You okay in there, y/n?” You hear your mother's muffled voice through the door. You clench down on your daddy's dick in surprise, causing him to fuck you faster. “Y/n?” “Y-yes mom, I'm fine, just go away p-please.” You gasp out, throwing your head back into the bed in ecstasy when you hear her mumble and walk away. “Daddy, 'm cumming! Cum with me!” You whisper-yell. “Gonna fill this pussy, get you so full of my seed you can never leave this house again.” He grunts, slamming into you at a bruising pace. “Yes, please Daddy, fill me up!” You orgasm and Toji follows suit, filling you with so much cum it spills out.  

☾ GETO SUGURU 

“I'm so full Sugu.” You mumble, dazed. You fight the urge to close your eyes and fall back into Suguru’s big, warm chest. “Wake up sweet girl. ‘M not done yet.” He mumbles into your sweaty neck. “B-but Sugu–” “Shush Lovebug, one more time.” Suguru looks over your shoulder to see where you two are connected. He plugged you up good, but after so many loads a trickle of his cum slowly travels down his almost empty balls. “O-one more.” You grab his chin and kiss him sweetly. He rubs your noses together before grabbing your hips and moving you down the shaft of his cock. He pays close attention to not pull you over the tip of his cock. You hold onto your stomach, feeling it protrude slightly more than normal, Sugu’s cock and cum inflating you. You feel like a cum filled, flesh light as Sugu moves you to his liking. It’s hard to believe he has more cum in him. “Fuck Lovebug, you feel so warm and tight.” He mummers, giving you a few more neck kisses. You lean closer into him. Right now, you want to live in his skin. “Love you Sugu, can’t wait ta have your baby.” “I Love you too, can’t wait to see you carryin’ my child.” He grips your hips tighter at the thought.  “‘bout to fuck another load into you sweet girl, you wan’ it?” “Yes please, more than anything.” You rest your head back into his shoulder. He shrugs at your head until your mouth is close enough to kiss. He slams your hips down and cums as you two make out and whisper sweet nothings. 

☾ CHOSO KAMO

“Again, Baby.” Choso holds the vibrator to your clit. You arch your back and forget the fact that you have nipple clamps on. You scream when the clamps move. Your entire body is sensitive, Choso came up with the idea to simulate you to the max when you said you wanted to have his baby, that you wanted him to breed to and fill you to the brim with his cum. You readily agreed to his idea because you knew that the more orgasms you had the better chance you had to get pregnant, something about the virginal walls relaxing when women orgasm. Now though, you’re regretting it. Choso’s been holding the vibrator on your clit for the last hour and every time you think you’ve gone numb to the sensation; he finds a way to make you cum harder than the last. “N-no Choso, ‘m done down, I've cum as I can, wan’ you to fuckmenow!” You slur your words, the pleasure making you lightheaded. “One more Babygirl.” He soothes you, rubbing your stomach and imagining what you’d look like full of his cum. Beautiful, you’d look beautiful. “At least fuck me while you give me another orgasm!” You argue, staring at him with glossed-over puppy eyes. Choso gives in and situates himself between your legs, still holding the vibrator over your clit. You sigh happily when he sets the vibrator down and thrust his cock in you. You thought you were completely numb down there but the feeling of Choso thrusting into your hole that’s been contracting nothing felt godly. Adding that with the vibrator that he put back on your clit, you come immediately. “Choso!” You scream clenching around him so tight he can’t help cumming. “Fuck! ‘M filling you up so good baby!” 

[6toru]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄.

synopsis. gaining the title ‘duke’ not only came with the prestige, but came along the lonely days you spent yearning for your husband as he toggled the new duties and responsibilities he had to face. it was only a matter of time before you decided that you could only have so much patience, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt if you played around a little – watching as your husband who held himself in great temperance and sangfroid fall into pieces the more you attempt to break his composure.

pairing. nanami kento x fem!reader genre. dukedom & arranged marriage au + smut cw. mature content (mdni), breeding kink, rough sex , explicit language + dirty talk

word count. 4.2k

author's note. hehe a repost from an old writing blog of mine ! def one of my favourite pieces + something about someone who's usually so poised losing control of themselves... feral is what i am 😩

NANAMI KENTO, no doubt, was a powerful young man who earned himself the title Duke from the royal king after his contribution and victory in the most recent war. Of course, now that he was given the new title, he was given a whole lot of responsibilities and duties that he’s got to fulfill now that he had plenty more people to protect. Nowadays, the young duke would either be found training his lot of knights, hunting, or cooped up in his grand office busying himself with myriads of documents. Despite being incredibly proud of his achievements, you still couldn’t help but yearn for the affection of your beloved husband.

 Many nights were spent alone, staring up at the tall dark ceiling while you silently counted sheep – hoping that once you had reached a hundred, he would arrive and join you in bed (he’d often fall asleep on the sofa in his office). And, many nights were spent with you fending for yourself when you longed for his touch, arching your back when you’d climax on your fingers – however, you never felt fully satisfied. Your fingers could never compare to his larger and thicker fingers, nor his… 

You shake your head rapidly, feeling your cheeks growing redder by the lewd thoughts of your husband swimming through your mind. The last time you had intercourse with the male was when you both consummated the marriage, which was almost half a year ago, and then a month after that, the war happened – and two months later, he’d come back with a new title, Duke. Everything else after that was a blur. He was just within your reach — residing in the same manor and all, could almost reach for him but always got farther and farther away. You miss your husband, desperately. 

You stroll through the hallways of the manor, taking small strides towards the familiar giant door with a board of your freshly baked bread balanced in your hands. You continue to hum a gentle tune as you got closer and closer to the door. Although, it may appear to other people that his wife was innocently barging into his office thus surprising him with baked goods made with love – However, unknowingly for them, you had other plans hidden up your sleeves.

“Kento,” your voice gentle as you call out his name, “I brought you something that I think you’d love!”

You open the door further, revealing your husband — as per usual — busying himself with his documents. Fatigue was plastered all across his face, though he tried his best to mask it, but the dark circles underneath his hazel eyes were of no help. You could tell that even his muscles had gotten sore from training and staying seated for long periods of time. You placed the bread tray in front of him, and you walked around the desk to stand next to your husband. 

“Thank you, honey,” He quickly thanks you, sending you a quick nod of acknowledgement. Your husband was in pure autopilot mode, his hand continuously signing the documents despite him slowly losing focus — desperately trying to keep them open rather than succumbing to slumber.

“You should take a moment to relax, Kento.” You say. Just as he is about to come up with some type of excuse as to why he shouldn’t take a break, you lean in closer to his ear. “Let me help you.”

Your hands travel up to his back, and you applied some pressure on his shoulders while you massaged him. Your husband releases a low groan when you apply even more pressure on a stubborn muscle knot on his shoulders. You smile when he relaxes into your touch, closing his eyes while he leaned closer into you as you massaged into his sore muscles until those pesky knots disappeared. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel much better,” Kento sighs, humming pleasantly, “ Thank you for the bread, too. I’ll make sure to finish it while I continue working.”

“Can’t your break be a little longer?” You probe at him, pouting softly. “I missed you.”

A sudden wave of boldness and confidence overtook your consciousness, and you brought yourself down on his lap, your arms snaking around your husband’s muscular shoulders. Kento looks completely taken aback, and you eat that expression up as if it is candy. 

 “Kento,” you begin, “can’t you see that your cute and loving wife misses you?”

You press your lips against his ear, before whispering: “I’ve been thinking about you so much, putting a baby inside of me.”

Slowly, you thrust your hips against his thigh, watching your husband in pure amusement as he attempts to keep his composure; his hand tightening on his pen, knuckles white. Almost immediately, you can feel him hardening underneath you, and you grinned almost immediately. Something about his reaction swelled your heart with pride, knowing that despite being busy you still, somewhat, had an effect on him. Even more, Kento was taken aback, completely speechless (and undeniably turned on) from his wife’s bold ministrations.

 “B-baby inside..?” His voice came out as a dry rasp, his eyes wide .

Before your husband could process anything else, he felt the weight on his lap disappearing, and he quickly stared up to watch you getting ready to leave. You fixed the wrinkles on the hem of your dress, trying to fight back the grin on your face after having just teased your usually stoic husband. He had always appeared so cool and composed, so watching him try so hard to keep his composure undeniably gave you some type of thrill. 

“Y/N?” He called out your name, looking visibly confused. Your eyes traveled down to your husband’s trousers, smiling innocently as you caught sight of the large tent growing between his legs.

“I almost forgot to mention, but the marchioness invited me to her manor for a tea party.” You said, attempting to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat while your husband appeared flustered. “I won’t be back until tonight.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on his lips, not before licking his bottom lip as you pull away. You were being far too mean with your husband, but you couldn’t help it — watching him slowly crack beneath your manipulation sent a shock of arousal straight between your legs. “Until then, promise me that you’ll finish the bread and take breaks when you need it, okay?”

Before the man could even muster a single response, you walked out of his office. Only two could play at this game, you thought to yourself as you closed the office door behind you.

Hours had already passed and you finished catching up with the noble ladies, exchanging goodbyes and letters before parting ways. It had truly been a while since you had last caught up with your friends. Nevertheless, the time spent at your friend’s manor was enjoyable, listening to all the spicy gossip while enjoying desserts and tea. 

The ride back home in the carriage is silent — the only sound present were the continuous patters from the horses’ steps. You stare outside the window, quietly watching the manor eventually disappearing as the carriage goes further away in distance. It is already a quarter past nine, perhaps the latest you have ever stayed out, and it is safe to assume that your beloved husband is probably resting on the sofa in his office again. 

You lean your back against the seat, pressing the side of your head against the window as your eyes begin to grow heavy, the distant sounds of the horses’ steps gradually lulling you into a short slumber.

“My lady, we’ve arrived.”

“Oh my, we’re already here?” You ponder to yourself out loud, groggily opening your eyes. You place your hands atop the coachman’s guiding you down the carriage, and you stare at the tall manor before you. Once you enter inside, you are automatically greeted with your maids ushering you to the bathroom with a change of clothes. Undeniably, you felt a little disappointed, as you believe that your husband had unknowingly proved your point from earlier — you, at least, hoped that he’d stay awake a little longer. You sink lower into the tub, blowing bubbles as you scrunch your brows together, the water hiding pouting lips. The maid had left you alone earlier, telling you that she’d return with a towel soon, but it’s been moments.

You glance around the bathroom, trying to decipher the exact location of your nightgown. Ah, it was on the stool, next to the door. If anyone had walked in on you grabbing your nightgown from the stool, the only thing they’d see is your wet and bare body. It shouldn’t be too bad, though —after all, it’s always been your maids coming in. Slowly, you stand up from the large tub, and you immediately shiver from the wave of cold air rushing to you,, cool beads of water dripping down your body. With careful steps, you make  your way across the room, your hand reaching out towards your nightgown. 

You suddenly hear a knock on the door, and you instinctively grab the gown to cover the front of your body. It must be the maid, you think to yourself and you try to mimic that of a stern face — however, you can’t bring yourself to be too harsh on a new maid, after all. You watch the door open slowly, and you tap your fingers against your elbows. “Hana, where were you all this… Oh.”

Almost immediately, your face is sent aflame and you scurry away from the door, your failed attempt of a stern persona pathetically crumbling away as the space revealed no one other than your husband standing in front of the doorway with a towel in his hand. Hazel eyes travel up and down your frame, his jaw tensing at the sight of your bunched up nightgown barely covering your body — hell, it didn’t cover anything, he stares longingly at your left breast deciding to slip out of the covers. He steps into the room and closes the door shut immediately, his eyes still locked into your frame and he stays silent. 

You press the nightgown against your body even more and you look away from his gaze, as if it could help hide your insecurities that are growing the more he stared and stayed silent. However, all that stops when you glance back at your husband and he gives you a come hither motion with his index finger. “Kento,” you say his name softly, “I thought you were asleep—”

“Come here,” is all he says to you, his voice low and baritone. You easily comply with his words, taking small strides to get closer to the male. “Hand me your nightgown.”

“I thought it was Hana that knocked,” you say quietly as you hand your husband your nightgown, further revealing your naked body. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch for a mere moment before he quickly regains his composure — however, it is already so fragile. He swiftly wraps the towel around your body before pulling you closer to him, his hands resting on your hips while he leans closer to your face with stern eyes. “You’re lucky that it was me, then. What were you thinking about going out of the bath like that? What if it wasn’t Hana or I that walked in?” 

“I didn't want to stay in the bath anymore, and I genuinely believed that my maids would be the only ones to walk in. Because of that, I didn’t feel too worried.” You answer your husband softly, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly. “Despite you giving me a bit of a surprise, I can’t say that I’d rather have Hana come here instead of you.”

“Is that so? That’s a relief, then. I did tell her that I’d take care of the rest and she could rest for the night.” He hummed, before lifting you up in his arms without any warning, immediately eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips. 

“W-what are you doing?” You question your husband, stammering as you instinctively place your hand onto his chest. 

“You know, after you played your little game earlier, I wasn’t able to do my work properly.” says Kento, opening the bathroom door. “I believe you should bear some sort of responsibility, no?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter under your breath, masking a soft grin as you nuzzle your face into your husband’s neck.

 “Putting a baby inside you,” he says, a slight strain present in his baritone voice as he continues walking down the hall with your towel-covered body in his arms. The walk down to your shared bedroom feels like an eternity has passed, the sounds of his footsteps resonating across the quiet hall. You want to question him where the rest of maids and butlers had gone but you relented, your body tense under the man’s carnal gaze.

“If fucking a baby inside of you is what you want, then it’s what you’ll get. It’s what my sweet wife asked for, after all.”

“H-Honey, what are you—?” 

With one hand, Kento swiftly opens the bedroom door. You let out a small shriek when he throws you on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed, his large hands pinning your hands above your head. He has this carnal glint in his amber eyes as he stares deeply into yours, it was as if all his self-control was beginning to crumble right before your eyes — you’ve never seen him like this; a cool, composed and reserved man looking so disheveled above you—his dress shirt buttoned loosely, revealing his collarbones and the evident incarnadine flush radiating onto his cheeks. Truly, it is a delicious sight to behold, and the wetness dwelling between your legs only seems to grow the longer you stare at the man.

 “What a lewd woman, you are.” He mutters, his grip on your wrists tightening while his other hand trails down your chest, slowly pulling the towel down. “Was my sweet wife having fun playing teatime after leaving me to take care of this?”  

Before you can even utter a word, a sudden gasp leaves your lips when Kento grinds his hips against yours; the delightful friction of the erection growing in his trousers rubbing against your clit, your back arching in hopes to get more. “I missed you,” you say between heavy breaths, “I missed you so much—Ah! Y-You’ve been so cooped up in your o-office lately and ngh..”

Your words were cut abruptly by his lips, teeths clashed and tongues intertwined while his rough and calloused fingers trail up your torso, towards your bare chest in a teasingly slow pace. A muffled moan leaves your lips, only to be covered by your husband’s lips, as he teases your already erect nipples.

 “Tell me more,” said your husband, his lips leaving yours. 

With heavy eyes, you watch Kento’s lips trail to where his hands once rested. His tongue swirls around the mound before sucking on your skin harshly, and you rest your fingers tangled in his blond locks as he continues to elicit those cute sounds coming from your swollen lips.

“You’ve been so busy with your duties as the duke, and—Mhhm..!—I-I’ve been feeling so alone these many nights while I longed for you, so so desperately. I love you so much Kento—Ah!” You mewl out those words in unadulterated wanton, your voice all shakey, it almost sounds embarrassingly pathetic when your husband is doing nothing more than teasing your breasts rather than fucking you relentlessly in the mattress. You can barely care less about how you sound though, because his lips and touch alone are enough to send you into ecstasy. You want him to touch you more. The needy ache between your legs continuously grows more intense the longer he teases you. 

“H-Honey, ‘want more. Please.” You beg your husband, your fingers desperately trying to unbutton his wrinkled dress shirt. “I need more of you.”

Kento doesn’t reply back, continuing his little ministrations on your neglected mound. It is adorable seeing him so focused on pleasuring you, but the heat you feel in your pussy feels too overwhelming. You push your husband’s head away from your mound, his lips leaving your skin with a soft ‘pop!’ He glances at you questioningly.

It was a bold and sudden decision that you had made on a whim out of sheer desperation, but his reaction made it all the more worth it. As soon as your fingers leave his half-buttoned dress shirt, you hook your arms underneath your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your cunt drenched in your desperate juices. “Kento, I mean it when I told you that I wanted you to put a baby in me.”

His mouth is left agape at your sudden boldness, his eyes fixated on the juices slowly dripping out of your hole — his breath gets stuck in his throat as he watches your small fingers spread your pussy lips apart. “Kento, touch me. Please.”

“Shit.”

It is almost as if the string has finally snapped inside of him, because before his mind can even start to think properly, his hands are on your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart as he begins the merciless assault on your dripping folds; his tongue lapping at all your wetness as if he was animal thirsty for water. Kento almost groans at the way his finger stretches your pussy, his finger sliding in almost immediately due to your juices. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “you’re so wet for me.”

He slides his index finger in and out before adding a second finger to the mix. He starts off slow, but his pace gradually quickens to that of which is considered merciless. The sounds of your wet cunt getting demolished by his fingers echoes in the grand room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hips thrash against his fingers, and you can feel the sensation of pressure that was building up in your abdomen intensifying the more that he pleases you with his large fingers. Within less than a second, you cum intensely around his fingers, a loud moan erupting from your throat as your body slumps against Kento. 

‘His fingers feel so much better compared to my fingers,’ you think to yourself as you try to recover from your first orgasm. 

While you attempt to catch your breath, you glance back to Kento only to watch him undress with your mouth salivating. It’s already a given that your husband would be incredibly fit as he often trains with the knights and hunts (while not forgetting the night you had consummated with him in the dark the past few months ago — you felt every crevice of his muscles) — but now, seeing it up close and so clearly — he is truly a sight to behold. You reach your arm towards his chiseled abdomen, your fingers drawing hearts across his skin, and your eyes travel lower past his abdomen; staring intently at the huge tent growing beneath his underwear. You want to get fucked by this man already, so so bad.

“Kento,” you say his name softly, tracing your fingers along the outline of your husband’s clothed erection before trailing back up to the waistband, tugging it down slightly to expose more of his v-line. He tugs his boxers down completely, and your mouth immediately waters at the exquisite sight. He is a lot bigger than you had remembered.

When he slowly rubs the tip of his dick against your folds, shivers trickle down your spine as you raise your hips to meet his, attempting to get him inside. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, his voice hoarse. “Look at you all spread open for me, desperate to get a taste of my cock.”

He slips his tip in, eliciting a sharp breath past your trembling lips, and then he pulls out. You whine out his name in a bated breath, your cheeks flushed in an incarnadine hue. Kento spares you a soft smile, almost as if it was mocking you, before he fills your hole up to the very brim — splitting your pussy open. 

“Oh fuck—Kento!” A scream slips past your lips, your eyes scrunched shut as a huge wave of pleasure rushes through your veins, sending goosebumps on your skin. Your husband is relentless with his movements, your legs spread apart by his strong grip.  The sounds of his skin slapping against yours along with cries of his name resonates across the bedroom, coupled with the intense squeaking from the mattress. “F-Feels so good—Ahn! Please—Please don’t stop—Oh!”

“You dirty woman,” Kento sneers, “we’ve just started and your pussy’s already so greedy for my cum by how tight you’re squeezing me. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get my sweet wife pregnant—filled with all my cum.”

With that, he spreads your legs even wider and leans his torso closer to yours; his face merely centimeters away from yours. “I can feel you getting tighter,” He says, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “you’re getting real close, hm?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to properly reply though, as he trails his one hand down to your clit and rubs rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a silent scream—your mouth agape and eyes rolled back as you ride out your orgasm, arching your back against his chest. 

You are barely given enough time to recover when Kento returns to work, his lips instantly connecting to yours while he thrusts his cock inside your sopping hole with a stuttering pace. His hands travel up to your breasts and gives them a harsh squeeze, the pace of his thrusts quickening. Your husband looks utterly delectable, his face scrunched up as he focuses on your pleasure, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Pleasure fills your veins, and your cries only increase in volume the closer you are to reaching your second orgasm. 

Thoughts of you being all plumped up and pregnant play repeatedly in his mind, and it merely ignites his desire to pump all his cum into you. Breaths ragged, he stuffs his head into the crook of your neck, nails gripping into your hips as he continues to plummet into you. “K-Kento—!” You wantonly whine out his name, wrapping your legs tightly around your husband’s hips. “Cum inside me—please. Want your kids so bad.”

How can he not cum? Especially when the sight of his sweet wife being drunk on his dick is right before his eyes. With a groan (combined with a growl) of your name along with a string of curses leaving his lips, he stiffens up inside you; warm ropes of his cum coating your walls white. 

Upon pulling out, he watches large beads of white leaking out of your hole and he sticks his finger inside, pushing his cum back inside. You released a soft sigh in pleasure, your legs slightly twitching at your husband’s touch. 

“How are you feeling now?” Questions your husband, Kento. You reach your arm out to his face, your thumb tracing light circles on his cheekbones. 

“I’m a happy, happy wife,” you reply to him, laughing softly before leaning into his lips, giving him a soft peck. Kento chuckles lightly into the kiss. “Was I too rough with you?” He asks you once more, and you shake your head immediately.

“I think I’ve realized just now how much I enjoy being manhandled by you,” you reply back to him, giggling. “Rather, I enjoy seeing this new side of you.”

Your giggles quickly gets replaced by a slight gasp when your husband suddenly adjusts your position, your face and chest now pressed against the mattress with your husband behind you, his hand lightly rubbing his erect cock. Swiftly, you turn your head to Kento, your mouth agape as you are just about to question him but the sting of his hand on your ass immediately erases all rational thoughts in your mind. Heat immediately rushes to your face once more at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensation. 

“K-Kento,” you are able to utter your husband’s name, your arms already feeling weak from holding yourself up from the mattress. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he slowly rubs his cock against you from behind, your ears picking up a hoarse chuckle.

“I never said I was done with you,” Kento tells you, “not until I’m sure that you’ll get pregnant with all my cum."

© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[antmimicry]

fuuuck oh my god I wish I had people in my life I could talk to! I mean like.. leftists. none of my family/friends are leftists and they have horrible opinions on many things and I absolutely cannot talk to anyone about this specific thing unless they're a leftist and I really fucking need to talk to someone about it because it's a personal situation that's pretty important and I don't know what the fuck to dooo lol I need to get advice or even just to talk about this thing but I can't just contact random strangers.. downsides of being isolated irl and not being able to form a social circle on the internet 👍

[browneyes-asiandragon]

Hello!

I hate begging for money on the internet, but I cannot afford my power bill this month.

I have PWYW Comms open!

$1-4 gets a pencil sketch

$5-9 gets flat colours

$10+ gets simple shading

I do human and furry art as well as cats you can inquire for more examples

Shoot me a DM I take paypal and venmo :-)

Amount raised $0/70.25

[sunniepoo]

thinking about mean stepbro!rafe catching his cute little stepsis humping away at her pillow late into the night when everyone’s asleep ⋆ටᆼට⋆

that night was ingrained in the back of rafe’s head as if some twisted fairy carved the image of you rutting helplessly into your pillow within the crevices of his brain

it was all by complete chance. the night’s breeze gushed through the older cameron’s window awakening him to the seasonable hot hours of darkness- he couldn’t even remember what caused him to leave bed; water? needing to use the bathroom?

all that clouded his twisted mind, was walking past your room; his sweet, pure minded step sisters room. the soft little pants and uh uh’s that left your mouth filled the silent air. he almost couldn’t believe it, it felt like some perverse wet dream that centred around your poor, naive self

his body moved before his mind, his hand gently creeping up against the door, softly pulling it open- cautious to making no noise to alert his presence. it was art; the sight of seeing you move vigorously against a spare pillow, your hips rocking back and forth as your back arched back, your hands travelling up to pull and squeeze at your clothed tits, your mouth agape as the sinful sounds of pleasure leave your mouth

but the true beauty of it all was when his eyes fell down to your bare pussy, all red and puffy from the constant stimulation. you were so so so wet, you poor thing must have been so achey, so desperate

he would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted, there was nothing he wanted more than to barge in and pound that pretty pussy till you couldn’t even remember your own name - but he settled, hiding in the darkness, watching you work at your pillow late into the night. he found his hand travelling down beneath the band of his sweatpants, palming away at his hardon, small pants of pleasure escaping his mouth

you paid no notice to your surroundings completely oblivious to the shadow of the large figure behind your door until you stopped

fuck! had you seen him? has he been caught?

depsite the danger of being caught, rafe’s head peered further inside and god he nearly came at the sight.it was heavenly,the way you took of your corset like top, tits spilling out in an almost pornographic like manner. one of your small hand gliding up your stomach, eventually to come pull and twist at your cute little nipples while the other goes down to rub at your already sensitive pussy

the loud moan that left your mouth went straight to his throbbing cock, dying to be let free and make itself home in your tight cunt. he rushed to pull down his pants and boxers, freeing his large length as his hands fist around it, moving up and down at the same pace you rocked against the pillow

his mind couldn’t help but wander what if it was him underneath you instead of the pillow, the zip of his jeans catching against your sore clit just as the edges of the pillow did when you rocked forward and when you rocked back it was the friction against his bulge rather than the fluff of the pillow

he could hear that you were getting closer, your whines becoming higher as you rocked faster and faster, your hand rubbing roughly against your mound prompting him to move his fist faster up and down the length of his cock, leaking with pre cum

a soft series of curses left your mouth as you went into total bliss, hands gripping the side of your bedside table,mouth agape while a high pitched wine left your mouth and as if it was a cue for the tall blonde, he spilled out across the palm of his hand

he wondered if you ever heard the joined pants of the aftermath of both of your highs. he watched you collapse down into the warmth of your bed, the lengths of your hair stuck against your sweaty body as you breathe out, softly panting

god he wishes he could have stayed and watched your pretty pussy throb and clench around nothing but he knew he had pushed his luck already. the images of you and your little cunt plagued his mind as he fell asleep

⇉

the morning after was a blur for you; the early morning rays of sun kissing your skin, waking you up to the quiet twitter of the birds. it was early - way too early for anyone to be up, maybe ward but that seemed unlikely since he had no buisness to attend to roday

so when you went downstairs in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra covered by a thin dressing gown, the last person you expected to see was rafe cameron, the older boy resting his lower back against the counter, mindlessly scrolling on his phone

there was something magnetic about him - the dark blue in his eyes carrying a deep mystery. despite his typical mean,brooding state - barely sparing anyone around him more than a glance, you were always so drawn to him - his roughness; it only made your mind wonder to places they definitely shouldn’t be going, especially not about your brother

his hands; so rough and calloused, always adorned with the familiar gold cameron ring gifted by his father. you’d thought about them more often than you’d like to admit, what’d be like to hold them - intertwining them within yours. you wondered how’d they’d feel inside you, fitting in you so snug - reaching places inside you that you could only imagine of. the thought of them wrapped tightly around your neck, his fingers inside your mouth, making their way down your thro-

“your up early, must’ve slept good” you look up at him, realising you’d been staring intently at the lengths of his fingers, his voice was husky signalling he must’ve just gotten up aswell

you didn’t miss the subtle smirk as he uttered out the end of his sentence. weird you thought but didn’t pay it much thought, rafe is rafe. “yeah i guess-” you sigh out, hands softly grazing against the edge of the counter as you moved slightly closer “i mean i went to bed pretty late but it’s fine”

“yeah?” it was hard to miss his teasing tone, you couldn’t help but look down at the ground - feeling small in his presence “and why did you go to bed so late” the sudden shift in position nearly startles you, with rafe’s tall figure looming over you, standing impossibly close. you could feel his minty breath coming slowly closer and closer, making your pussy clench around air

you couldn’t help but take in his appearance, wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxers which did nothing to hide his quite obvious boner poking at the front of your thigh, hair tussled above the icy blue in his eyes

“just on-” the quiver in your voice only seemed to push him closer “on my ph- phone” you ramble out, hoping this conversation would be over soon enough

and just as he goes to speak, the voice of ward and rose waking up could be heard from downstairs, thank god- but it doesn’t stop him from shifting closer, leaning down to your ear “ well get to bed earlier-” he drawls out, voice unusually soft and gentle “f’me kay” he begins to leave but not before placing a sticky kiss on the bottom of your cheek, hands resting dangerously low on your back but quickly glide off at the arrival of the rest of the family, as he rushes his way upstairs

you stood there hot and bothered and all that rested in your mind was the excitement of straddling your pillow tonight hoping it was him;your mean older step brother

[sugoroo]

GOOD COP, BAD COP!

ʚɞ summary: you get arrested and are determined not to reveal a single piece of information about your associates. that is, until the two officers interrogating you start employing... unique tactics to get you to talk.

warnings: fem!reader x choso kamo & toji fushiguro, police officer!au, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise kink, voyeurism, leg humping, power play, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.0k

it was a simple job — or atleast, it was supposed to be.

it began with the same simple plan as any other low stakes bank heist.

get in, get the money, get out.

but unfortunately, this time, someone in your little group decided to snitch - alerting the authorities of the exact location and time of the job before it even began.

so while you were in the middle of stuffing wad after wad of cash into a duffle bag, the last thing you were expecting was for a bunch of police officers to come barging into the bank, guns raised and badges being waved.

well shit.

silently cursing whichever person from your group that informed them, you made a break for it, darting towards the back entrance with the duffle bag clumsily slung across your shoulder.

but you didn't make it far.

the rest of your group managed to escape the bank in time, piling into the awaiting getaway car, but of course, you had to get stopped by a large hand wrapping around your wrist. you desperately tried to tug it free, but their grip was firm; almost frighteningly so.

"shit. guys, wait for—!" you attempted to yell, but the sound of the engine revving as the car dashed away interrupted the sentence, almost as if it was mocking you.

"looks like your little friends left you behind, doll." a low voice you assume belongs to the hand around your wrist rumbles from behind you, the amusement in his tone clearly at your expense.

"fuck you." you spit out, still stubbornly trying to tug your arm from his iron grip even though it's abundantly clear that it's a fruitless endeavour.

"ah ah," the voice chides, yanking a pair of handcuffs from his pocket with his other hand and effortlessly clicking them in place over your wrist, then doing the same with the other, despite your relentless struggling. "an attitude like that won't get you anywhere now."

with your movements now severely restricted by the harsh metal of the cuffs, you have no choice but to comply as the police officer manhandles you, roughly spinning you around until you come face to face with him.

unsurprisingly, the man's cocky expression fits his voice. his lips, which have a noticeable scar running down the side, are pulled up into a smug smirk as he looks down at you, and some messy strands of black hair are falling into his eyes.

"got nothin' else to say?" he snorts, his smirk only widening when he notices the way your features contort into a scowl — clearly fighting the urge to snap back at him again. "yeah, that's what i thought."

it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to list off every single curse word you know as the officer practically drags you through the bank, carelessly shoving you into the back of his squad car.

so much for a simple job.

so that's how you manage to find yourself slumped against an uncomfortable plastic chair in an interrogation room at the local police station, handcuffed to a desk.

it feels like it's been hours since the arrest, but there's no way of telling how much time has actually passed in this frustratingly empty room since there isn't even a clock to decorate the plain white walls.

when you'd first been left in here, you'd been angry.

angry at whichever member of your group decided to snitch on the operation, angry at your accomplices for leaving you there in the bank (although you probably would've done the same if the roles were reversed) and angry at the irritatingly smug officer who arrested you.

but eventually, that anger started to slowly but surely fade away —instead replaced by an overwhelmingly painful sense of boredom as you sat here with nothing to do.

you resorted to counting the tiles on the ceiling above you in a last ditch attempt at keeping yourself atleast somewhat amused. what number were you up to again? oh, right. eighty two... eighty three—

"hey, hey! s-sorry i'm so late." a voice hurriedly announces as the person it belongs to clumsily stumbles into the room, rambling about something to do with a coffee machine malfunction as he slides into the seat opposite yours.

slowly casting your eyes down from the ceiling to take in the police officer now sat in front of you, you're relieved to realize that it's not the same one from earlier. no - the difference between them is almost comical.

this one has dark tresses of hair pulled up into two messy pigtails, a small tattoo inked across the bridge of his nose, and his pale hands are shaking on the table where they rest. he seems nervous — almost as if he's the one about to be interrogated and not you.

"u-uh, yeah, as i was saying..." the man continues after a few moments of squirming under your gaze, pushing a mug across the table. "i thought i'd get you some coffee to help you feel more at ease. but the settings on that pesky machine are so complicated! i-i'm new here, by the way."

"i gathered." you murmur with a small, bemused smile pulling at your lips in spite of the situation you find yourself in. you then glance down at the mug, raising an eyebrow — it's not like you can pick it up and bring it to your mouth with your hands cuffed to the desk.

"o-oh, shit. i didn't think of that," the officer curses under his breath, grasping the mug in two trembling hands and thrusting it towards you. the movement jostles the liquid slightly, causing some of it to drip onto the table. "here."

you lean forward to reach the outstretched mug, taking a small sip of the warm liquid and resisting the urge to wince at the overwhelmingly bitter taste; this guy really wasn't joking about not being able to use he coffee machine properly.

"thanks." you push out with a somewhat strained smile, not wanting to appear ungrateful for the kind gesture. he nods quickly, seemingly pleased by your manners, placing the mug back down on the desk and pulling some files from his bag.

"so..." he begins, fanning the various folders across the desk and squinting down at them, as if trying to make sense of what's in front of him. "oh, wait! i forgot to introduce myself. i'm officer kamo — but you can call me choso, i-if you want, that is."

"right. well, it's nice to meet you, choso." you respond carefully, silently observing the way the apples of his cheeks flush a subtle shade of pink at the sound of his name leaving your lips. interesting.

"y-you too, um..." choso stammers awkwardly, glancing down and reading your name aloud from one of the files. "so, it says here you were the only suspect apprehended from the group who attempted to rob a local bank earlier today. is that correct?"

"it is." you mutter, pushing at the bed of one of your nails as some of the anger from earlier surfaces again. why did it have to be you who got caught? you should be at home rolling around in a heap of cash right about now, not sitting in a sterile interrogation room answering questions.

"i see," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck in a clear sign of discomfort as he takes note of the sudden defensiveness in your demeanour. "well, um, i was just wondering— i mean, i have to ask you... is there any information you can give us regarding your accomplices?"

your head snaps up at this, a flicker of uncertainty alighting in your chest. obviously, you were anticipating this question - but hearing it said out loud is an entirely different feeling.

the small part of you that still burns with anger wants to spill everything, get your fellow group members roped into the same predicament as you as payback for them abandoning you at the bank. but the other, more rational part of you, knows that nothing good can come of snitching on them. it would only serve to get you in even more trouble; just not with the law.

"no. i'm sorry, but i don't have anything to tell you." you lie through your teeth, toying with the edge of the metal handcuffs where they're digging into your wrist.

"a-are you sure about that?" choso prompts, seeming slightly unconvinced. he's trying to catch your eye, tilting his head towards you. "names, addresses, vehicle numberplates... anything?"

you subtly clench your jaw, shaking your head from side to side. as strong as the urge is to supply him with the information he wants, deep down you know it would only make things worse for you in the long run.

choso huffs out a small breath of air, fidgeting in his seat as he tries to remember his interrogation training. he may be new to this — but he's not oblivious. he can tell you're not being truthful, and although he understands the reasons behind that, he needs this intel if he wants to hand over a satisfactory report to his boss at the end of the day.

"if you're worried about the consequences of confessing, we can always put you into witness protection." he tries, his voice soft and earnest. it's clear he's not putting on an act, he does mean what he says. but that does nothing to change your mind.

"i don't have anything to tell you." you repeat without hesitation, your blank expression betraying nothing of your inner turmoil. you have to keep silently reminding yourself — it's not worth the risk to snitch.

"alright." choso sighs in response, wringing his hands atop the table as he seemingly tries to think of another approach to get you to talk. he has a feeling none of the other methods from his basic training are going to work with you. "um... how about i offer you something in return for your cooperation?"

"like what?" you mutter cautiously, fully intending on rejecting whatever it is he has to suggest.

"well, let's see," he hums thoughtfully, glancing back down at the files before returning his gaze to you. "how about a shorter sentence? i think we can do that."

this makes you pause — if only for a moment. a shorter sentence does sound tempting, but you can't let the idea weaken your resolve. after all, once you got out, there would be hell to pay for snitching. "less jail time isn't going to change the fact that i don't have anything to tell you."

choso's shoulders visibly sag with disappointment at your continued refusal to give up any information; he really thought that suggestion would have swayed you. "o-okay. so how about something else then?"

now that catches your curiosity.

because what else could he possibly offer you aside from a reduced sentence? that was usually the absolute best bargaining chip police officers were allowed to utilize in interrogations — you'd seen enough tv shows to know that.

he perks up when he notices the subtle signs of increased interest in your demeanour, leaning forward in his seat with clear eagerness. "okay! you're curious, that's good. s-so... what i'm suggesting is... um..."

you raise an eyebrow at his sudden hesitation, noting the way his eyes dart away from yours and his already pinkened cheeks flush further. "what you're suggesting is...?" you prompt.

"that... um... i—" choso tries again, anxiously digging his nails into his palm. he can't believe he's actually going to say something like this out loud, but he needs to get this information if he wants to make good progress at his new job. "i s-service you."

what?

you have to hold back a choked sound somewhere between a snort and a gasp at his words, your eyebrows raising so high they almost disappear above your hairline.

hearing this timid-looking, blushing rookie police officer say something so... suggestive was definitely not the way you expected this interrogation to go.

it was like the start of some cheap porno.

"are you serious?" is all you can manage to mutter, leaning forward in your seat slightly to get a better look at his expression, searching for any signs that he's just playing with you; maybe trying to get you to lower your guard so that you're more likely to spill intel.

"...yes," comes choso's meek reply, his voice so soft and quiet it's hardly audible, despite the lack of any other sounds in the room. he looks like he's about to die of embarrassment, his flush spreading down his neck and disappearing below the neckline of his uniform.

"i don't see how that's supposed to get me to supply you with information that i don't have." you huff bluntly, keeping up the act as best you can; but you can't deny there's a small part of you that's curious as to what he would actually do if you were to agree to the proposition.

he finally meets your gaze again at this, the look in his eyes telling you point-blank that he knows you're holding back the truth from him. and he knows that you know he knows.

it's a stalemate.

"h-how about..." he mumbles after a long stretch of silence, rolling a dark strand of his hair between his fingers nervously. "how about i just try something? you don't have to agree to anything yet. i-i just want to try."

again, choso manages to capture your curiosity.

he's now basically offering to please you for nothing in return — although he's obviously hoping he'll be able to get some information out of you eventually, maybe during or after this 'service'.

you wish you could say you weren't tempted by his offer. but as a criminal, most of the people you associate with are disgusting lowlifes who you wouldn't even dream of letting in your bed.

needless to say, it's been a long while since another person brought you pleasure.

"so if, hypothetically, i was to say yes, i wouldn't have to actually agree to anything yet?" you repeat cautiously, your demeanour still guarded. you can't afford to let him get the upper hand here, no matter what happens.

"y-yes," choso nods in response, seeming slightly pleased by the fact you haven't outright rejected his suggestion or threatened to report him to one of his superiors. "hypothetically." he adds, for good measure.

another few moments of silence pass where you mentally weigh up your options. you come to the conclusion that it couldn't hurt to go along with his little proposition for now, as long as you make sure you keep your guard up throughout. right?

"okay." you hum, leaning back in your chair and observing the police officer before you. he seems to be trying to hold back his excitement at having won you over, but then you can see the exact moment it dawns on him what it is he's actually signed himself up for.

choso swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he stands up from his chair, legs visibly trembling in his dark uniform trousers as he awkwardly shuffles closer to your side of the desk.

you open your mouth to speak, but whatever you were about to say instantly leaves your mind when he sinks to his knees before you, effortlessly moving your chair to the side so that he's positioned directly between your legs.

"i know you said that you're new and all," you mutter with slight amusement as you watch him look up at you with those wide eyes from where he's knelt on the floor. "but i'm pretty sure most police officers don't do this for suspects."

"i-i know that," he huffs sheepishly in response, the tips of his ears reddening to match the shade of his face. "but i couldn't think of any other ways to get you to talk."

"who said i'm going to talk?" you murmur, enjoying the way his bottom lip juts out into a little involuntary pout in response to your words. "i didn't actually agree to say anything, remember?"

choso doesn't reply this time, seeming to have come to terms with the fact that he can't convince you with his words alone; this situation clearly requires him to use his actions.

the problem is, he's never actually performed said actions on a woman before. sure, he's watched his fair share of porn — but he knows that doesn't compare to the real thing.

he's just going to have to wing it.

he brings a shaky hand up to one of your legs, slowly trailing his fingers up the skin there. it's soft to the touch; much softer than he expected. he had this stereotypical notion imbedded in his head that a criminal's skin would be rough and hardened - but not yours, clearly.

choso can feel your eyes on him the entire time his digits travel up the length of your leg, can tell that you're curious about exactly what he's going to do as his so-called service to you.

he couldn't tell you even if you asked — he's just going to make it up as he goes along and hope he does atleast something right that might get you to spill some information while you're lost in the throes of pleasure.

eventually, his fingers reach the hem of your skirt, and he pauses for a moment to look up at you, as if asking for silent permission. you nod with a small jerk of your head, so he steels himself before continuing.

he lifts up the material of your skirt slightly, taking a quick peek underneath to see what he was to work with. and oh, he almost forgets that he's supposed to be the one holding the power in this situation when he catches a glimpse of your covered cunt.

your panties aren't anything special — since you obviously weren't expecting to end up in this position today. but choso couldn't care less, his closed mouth filling up with salvia as he stares at the small wet patch forming on the front of the fabric.

you can't help but huff out a small laugh, the sound halfway between bemusement and slight embarrassment as the police officer before you just kneels and stares between your legs, the silence in the room so thick you could hear a pin drop.

"trying to make me uncomfortable by staring isn't going to make me tell you anything, you know." you mutter with eyes narrowed in suspicion, causing his head to dart up in surprise.

"w-what? oh... um, sorry. i didn't mean to stare." he rasps hurriedly, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze. he knows you're right; he's not going to get anywhere by just kneeling here completely motionless like a statue.

he needs to get to work.

choso starts by brushing a gentle, barely-there kiss against your inner thigh, his lips soft as they press against your skin. it feels a little too intimate for what is supposed to be an interrogation tactic, but right now, he can't bring himself to care.

you feel a small shiver ripple down your spine as he leaves a trail of sweet kisses up to the apex of your thighs, his head disappearing underneath your skirt with just the tips of his dark pigtails peeking out.

this entire situation is so overwhelmingly surreal — just hours ago you were being arrested, and now you're in an interrogation room with a pretty rookie police officer inches away from making contact your clothed core.

what a strange turn of events.

your sink your teeth into your lower lip once you feel his breath fan across your panties, attempting to hide any sounds that threaten to escape. you have to make sure not to let on how much you're enjoying this - have to make sure you don't lower your guard and accidentally let any information spill.

choso presses a chaste kiss to your covered mound, and it's all you can do to hold back a little gasp at the action. he's just so sickeningly gentle with you; like he's handling his lover and not a criminal under arrest for robbing a bank.

a soft rumble, almost a groan, comes from under your skirt, the sound vibrating against your skin as it leaves his lips. you can't see his face, but if you could, you'd see how drunk he is on you already — just from the miniscule taste of you he's gotten through your panties.

"h-hah," he breathes quietly, mostly to himself, flicking his tongue out gently against the now-dampened fabric to get a better taste. "i never thought a criminal would taste so sweet."

fuck.

those simple words shoot straight down to your cunt, causing a small gush of arousal to trickle out into your underwear. you're sure he can feel it against his tongue, and you wince. it's going to be more difficult than anticipated to keep your composure if he's gonna keep saying things like that.

choso gasps slightly, the sound quickly morphing into a satisfied hum when your syrupy slick seeps through the fabric and onto his awaiting tongue. despite never having done this before, he's sure no one else could possibly hold a candle to how delicious you taste.

he's in trouble.

at this rate, he's going to be the one falling apart first instead of you; he can already feel himself growing hard in his slacks, pushing against the restricting material.

gently pulling your soiled panties to the side, he swipes his tongue through your glistening folds, gathering more of your juices on his tastebuds. he's not sure what else to do to please you, all he knows is that he wants more and more of that sweet sap.

choso is so lost in 'interrogating' you with his mouth, and you're so lost in trying not to forget about the consequences of snitching and just tell him everything you know, that neither of you notice when the door creaks open.

"well, well, well... i assign you to your first solo interrogation—" an irritatingly familiar voice grunts out, the sound of the door clicking shut sealing him in the room with you. "and where do i find you? with your tongue on the suspect's cunt, kamo."

it's him. the way-too-smug officer with the scar on his lip who arrested you back at the bank, who fastened the handcuffs so tight the harsh metal dug into the skin of your wrists. who simply laughed mockingly at your struggles to break free. him.

choso breaks free from between your legs so fast he probably gets whiplash, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he peeks out from under your skirt. he resembles a deer frozen in headlights.

"oho, don't go stoppin' on my account." the other officer chuckles deeply, sauntering closer and grasping one of choso's messy pigtails. he uses the grip to push him back under your skirt, forcibly pressing his face against your needy flesh.

choso whines, a pathetic, drawn out sound, feeling conflicted. he's unsure if he's supposed to stop or continue; unsure if his boss's words are meant as sarcasm or not. is this some sort of test from his superior? he doesn't want to risk losing his job, not when he worked so hard to get here.

"c-captain fushiguro... i'm sorry. but i-i don't understand." he mumbles shakily, his meek voice vibrating directly against your core.

"tch. thought i told you before to j's call me toji, didn't i?" the smug officer — toji, apparently— huffs in irritation, practically ignoring your presence entirely as he shoves choso's face right into your pulsing heat. "now get back to fuckin' work. that's an order, rookie."

unable to resist the authoritative tone of his voice, choso's tongue peeks back out from between his lips and swipes through your sopping folds again, his mind quickly going pleasantly blank a second time from your sweet saccharine taste.

toji's eyes then meet yours for the first time since he stepped into the interrogation room, seemingly seeing effortlessly past your careful blank expression. he smirks, in the same annoyingly smug way as he had when he arrested you.

he knows that while his subordinate may be trying his best, the small amount of stimulation from the inexperienced man isn't anywhere near enough to properly please you.

and if they want their stubborn little suspect to break, you need to be more than properly pleased.

"y'er not gonna get her to reveal any damn information like that, kid." toji grunts in a mix of amusement and annoyance, tugging choso back by his pigtail and causing him to whimper pathetically. "d'ya even know where her clit is?"

"c-clit?" he repeats timidly, glancing between your pretty pussy and his boss's unimpressed face, as if unsure which to give his full attention.

"yes, clit. jesus, what are they teachin' you youngsters these days?" toji mutters disapprovingly, snaking his free hand underneath your skirt to point directly at your puffy little bud without much trouble. "should be right... there."

you can't stop the sharp gasp that escapes your lips when he pushes down on your sensitive clit like a button, snapping your head to the side to send a sharp glare in his direction.

"aww, look at that," he coos mockingly, removing his finger as quickly as he had placed it there and returning your scowl with his trademark smug grin. "little lady still has 'er attitude, i see."

"fuck you." you hiss out, not appreciating where this is going. the sweet rookie officer servicing you was one thing, but the infuriating one who arrested you joining in? now that's an entirely different situation.

"ah ah, doll," toji hums, waving the finger he just had pressed against your clit in front of your thoroughly irritated face. "'m not here for that, unfortunately. just thought i'd give kamo here a little... helping hand, 's all."

"well i don't want your helping hand." you scoff in response, but despite your desperate struggling against the handcuffs that still have you chained to the desk, you can't do anything to slap his hand away when it returns between your legs.

he ignores your protesting movements completely, angling his face down to glance at choso, who is watching his superior's pudgy finger rubbing teasingly slow circles on your clit with rapt attention, seemingly tuning out the bickering between the two of you.

"y'see now, rookie?

choso nods a little too enthusiastically, and the moment toji removes his finger, his tongue is back on your cunt. but this time, it's circling messily around your little bud, his movements sloppy and uncoordinated.

a small moan escapes your lips unwarranted, and you instantly snap your eyes shut in embarrassment — it's becoming increasingly harder to keep your priorities straight with these two extremely attractive police officers attempting to wreck your resolve.

"yeahhh, she likes that," toji leers mockingly, rubbing his fat thumb against the edge of your thigh just to work you up even further. "dontcha, pretty?"

"shut... up." you push out through clenched teeth, fighting not to lose yourself in the sensations they're providing you with. you have to stay strong. you won't become a snitch.

he only snorts in response, pulling his thumb back and giving you a brief moment of relief before swiftly slapping a hand against your folds, the obscene wet squelching sound echoing throughout the room. "don't tell me what to do, girl."

"t-toji," choso whines, pulling his tongue from your clit and glancing down at your twitching flesh from the slap, which he starts peppering with gentle kisses in an attempt to soften the blow. "that was mean."

"oh, that was mean, was it?" he scoffs, rolling his eyes and giving the other man's pigtail a sharp tug as punishment for his words. "what would've been mean is if i fired your scrawny ass the second i got in here for fraternizing with a suspect. but i didn't, did i?"

"n-no... you didn't." choso murmurs meekly in response, his eyes wide and pleading at the prospect of losing his job. he quickly attaches his mouth back to where toji showed him your clit is, suckling gently in an attempt to please both you and his stern boss.

"now thaaat's more like it," toji croons lowly, his voice rich and gruff as he pats the top of choso's hair like he's a well-trained dog. "good boy."

a quiet mewl spills from his busy mouth in response to the praise, his hips weakly bucking against your leg as he tries desperately not to let himself fall apart without getting the information they need from you first.

toji notices, because of course he does, and he wraps a hand around your chin and forces you to look down at the pathetic display below you. "look at him, pretty. y'got him humping your leg like a damn bitch in heat. pussy must be sweet as candy."

"i-it is— shit, it is." comes choso's slurred mumble, popping his mouth from your clit with an lewd pop! before delving his tongue back between your sweetened folds. he may be inexperienced, but he's a quick learner.

"'s that right?" he chuckles, tilting his head to the side. he's speaking to his subordinate, but his eyes never leave yours. it makes you shudder involuntarily, his smirk stretching wider when he takes note of your reactions to him. "lemme get a lil' taste for myself then, kid."

choso obediently moves to the side to make room for toji, but when he doesn't join him on his knees, he looks up with an adorably puzzled expression across his features.

his boss moves his hand from the other man's pigtail down to grasp his chin, roughly pulling him up into a bruising kiss before he can even think of uttering a single protest.

choso whimpers helplessly into the kiss, not bothering to fight back at all as toji sucks lewdly on his tongue, stealing your sweetened juices straight from his subordinate's mouth.

he smacks his scarred lips once he pulls back, humming in satisfaction as his eyes return to you. "rookie's right; that's one ripe cunt y'got there. too bad it's wasted on a damn criminal."

his words make a mixture of arousal and annoyance flare up in the pit of your stomach, another small trickle of wetness gushing out of your core to pool on the plastic chair beneath you as you glare up at him.

"you're deluded if you think i'm telling you anything when you talk to me like that." you spit out, the look on your face one of pure disdain, despite your situation.

"oh, dollface," toji chuckles deeply, ignoring the squirming choso beside him and leaning down so his face is level with yours. "you're not gonna tell us just anythin'. you're gonna tell us everything."

before you can scoff right in his face, choso has been shoved back between your legs by his hair yet again, the feeling of his sweet, warm mouth sucking on your clit making your eyes almost cross in your head.

taking your distracted state as an opportunity to rile you up even further, toji shoves a pudgy thumb between your lips, pressing it right to the back of your throat so you can't even think of talking back anymore.

your resolve is hanging by a very, very thin thread.

despite how much you despise toji, you instinctively start to suckle on his thick digit, too blissed out from choso's sloppy ministrations to bother with how shameless you must look right now.

"mhmm, that's a good girl," he coos mockingly, swirling his thumb around inside your mouth. as composed as he seems, the feeling of your warm, soft little lips around his digit is making him extremely hard in his slacks. "knew y'had some obedience in ya somewhere."

choso mewls again when he feels your spongy walls fluttering around his tongue when he slides it inside your needy hole, assuming that must mean you're close to the edge; close to spilling the information they need.

instinctively, he speeds up his movements, fucking you on his tongue in such a lewd yet somehow gentle way as he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from squirming on the chair.

but suddenly, just when you can feel the coil of an impending orgasm building up in the depths of your stomach, all the stimulation is gone.

toji's thumb leaves your mouth with a wet pop!, and choso gets yanked away from your core with his mouth open and drooling like a dog.

"what the fuck?" you pant out breathlessly, your eyes half-lidded as you glance between them quizzically. choso looks just as confused as you, wriggling against toji's grip on his hair in a fruitless attempt to get back to your sweet pussy.

"what? y'thought we were g'nna let ya cum that easily?" toji chuckles richly, a wide grin stretching across his scarred lips as he easily restrains a rabid choso with one strong hand. "nah, girl. y'gotta tell us what we wanna know first."

shit.

you should've known this would happen. to begin with, you were sure you could manage to keep yourself together if it was just choso servicing you. but now, with your body writhing and desperate for release and it was just toji standing in your way to stop you from getting it?

you were surely about to break.

"what's the matter?" toji croons, his voice dripping with mock concern as he thumbs at your lower lip with his free hand. "lost y'er attitude, pretty?"

you could just stay quiet. refuse to talk — get sent to a jailcell with your panties soiled and your cunt still throbbing with need.

or, you could tell them what they wanted to know. spill the beans on your shitty team members who had abandoned you and were probably rolling around in heaps of cash right now at your hideout without a care in the world. and in return, get your first proper orgasm in a long, long time.

you already know which option you're going to choose.

your voice quiet, you mutter the numberplate of the getaway car your group had used to escape the bank. it's all they need to find your associates; a little tracking using the police system and they can easily decipher the exact location of the vehicle.

toji grins, reaching up to give your head a condescending little pat as a reward while he releases his grip on choso with the other hand, causing his subordinate to dive face first back into your needy pussy.

a shameless moan escapes from deep in your throat, your hips weakly grinding up into choso's face as he feasts on you like it's the last meal of his life. you can feel him smiling happily against you, clearly pleased his method of interrogation worked out in the end, even if he did need his boss's help.

you end up hurling into an overwhelming orgasm when toji spits down onto your cunt, the salvia being swiftly lapped up by choso's eager tongue without a moments hesitation.

your entire body convulses against the plastic chair, the handcuffs digging into your wrists as you writhe and squirm, shameless mewls and cries escaping your lips as you attempt to come down from your high.

you can't even remember the last time you came that hard.

"aww, y'didn't even make 'er squirt, kamo," toji huffs in overexaggerated disappointment, causing the other man's swollen lips to form into a confused little pout. "dontcha think she deserves a proper reward for givin' us the information we were after?"

"squirt? how do i make her do that?"

"tch. damn clueless rookie," he huffs, shoving choso away from between your legs and sinking to his own knees before you. "let me show ya."

suddenly, the consequences of snitching don't seem so important anymore.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ GN reader

Bakugou doesn't tell people about his home life, so you can imagine the Bakusquad’s utter surprise when they invite themselves over only to find out he has a little omega housewife waiting for him.

“Oh, hello,” you say when the four additional Alphas pour in through the door after your Katsuki.

They all look at you unblinking. The biggest one, a redhead, doesn’t seem all that surprised—as though he’d had some suspicion that’s now been laid to rest. But the other three, an electric blond, a guy with raven hair, plus a woman with cotton candy curls, look at you as if they’d just stumbled upon a mouse in a lion's den—all slightly horrified at the sight of you.

Your alpha, the tightly wound grump seething with annoyance, stomps over to you and plants a quick kiss on your hairline. “They just barged in,” he grumbles under his breath. “Sorry if we scared you.”

You hum calmly in turn, “That’s okay. I heard you yelling in the driveway, so I wasn’t surprised.”

The four members of the Bakusquad are all gobsmacked at the domestic sight—the boss, their boss, their hard-headed macho boss, bending over and apologizing to this little omega half his size.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, peaking over the breadth of his hunched shoulders to the others with a warm smile on your pretty face. “I just finished dinner.”

“No,” Katsuki growls grumpily and winds his arms around you—like an old, tired dog, voice gruff, “Uninvited intruders don’t get my dinner.”

You only giggle it off, brushing his stubble with a soft hand, gently handling him further down to your level so you could place a kiss on his other cheek. “Oh, stop, Katsuki. Be nice to your friends.” 

Then you walk off to the kitchen.

Calling out sweetly over your shoulder, “I went a little overboard, so there’s more than enough for everyone.”

And by god, if they don't fall in love with you right then before they’ve even got a single word out.

But love at first sight isn't all so strange. None of them have ever seen an Omega outside of on film—much less been hit with the scent of one. They're all bewitched and confused at the feeling as they trail after you as if they've been compelled by some higher power.

"Please sit," you smile, gesturing to the long table where only two seats have been made. "Katsuki, hon, help me, please"

They all scoot into each their unplaced seat while your big lousy Alpha begrudgingly helps set the table for the unwanted dinner guests. They remain silent as you serve them like the perfect homemaker—all crimson-cheeked and ashamed at how they sniff after you as you pass them by.

You sit just as brightly despite the awkward tension. "Please, enjoy."

They all obey, eating in utter silence—every single one of them trying hard not to stare—and all failing miserably.

Kaminari's the first to speak, having been left shaken by curiosity he no longer could contain.

"So... did he kidnap you, or?"

It's a fair question to some extent. Omega's are a dime a dozen, all regulated strictly by protective institutions. You can't just find one to mate like in the old days. You need to apply for one and be vetted—not to mention they cost a fortune.

"Denki!" Kirishima whisper-shouts in admonishment, shaking his head from across the table.

"What? I'm I the only one who's thinking it?" he throws his hands up and defends.

Katsuki's fist strains around his fork, but you lay your mit atop his, and he calms down shortly.

“Don't worry, Mitsuki and Masaru made the arrangements and paid the dowry," you giggle, running your hand through your Alpha's ashen hair with fondness in your eyes. "I was a graduation present of sorts. They worried Katsuki wouldn't take care of himself once he started working and thought having a mate might help him with his busy day.”

If Katsuki appreciates you spilling his business like that, he doesn't say anything about it—just continues eating.

Denki sighs and sags in his chair. “I always knew Bakugou’s folks were loaded. How nice...”

Sero grins, “Your jealousy is showing.”

Denki pouts, “I’m not exactly tryna hide it.”

"Yeah..." Mina pipes up. "Can't deny I'm jealous, too."

Sero's grin falls as well with his confession, "Yeah, me neither, actually."

You keep smiling sympathetically, "Well, you're all welcome here—I don't mind the extra company."

"Really?" Denki lights up.

Mina and Sero, too—in awe and in unison, saying, "She's an angel."

"Get yer own," Katsuki grumbles. "Now shut up and finish your food. Then you're leavin'—all of you."

"Oh, come on, man," Denki whines. "Have a little pitty for your fellow Alphas."

"Let's stay respectful, guys," Krishima buds in lightheartedly. "Think about what you're asking."

Then, rethinking the conversation, the other three all realized how it had sounded, even though they hadn't meant it that way. And they all blush even darker than before.

And still, you just smile—alphas are all so cute.

Especially your hyper-protective one.

♡ prequel ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[glitterypinkconverse]

─ ⊹ ⊱ IN THE HEAT OF IT ALL

e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary after having an argument with miles, you get mad as to why he always brings up your plushies while you guys are arguing. so, you threw them all away.

request by @friedturtlewhispers ! i accidentally posted this without writing actual story, so sorry your request got deleted 😭

a/n this is a continuation of the 42!miles headcanon from these headcanons! i’m a sucker for angst so ofc i has to write this 🤷‍♀️

warnings angst to fluff, cursing

“Ma, you’re the one who sleeps with stuffed animals at night.”

You two have been fighting over God knows what for at least 30 minutes, and whenever he brought up the fact that you sleep with stuffed animals at night pisses you off. You scoffed, stuck your middle finger up at him, and went to his doorway.

“Fuck you, Miles.” That was all you said before you walked out of his bedroom, and out his apartment door.

New York at night was chilly, so as you left the building you silently cursed to yourself. You forgot your jacket again, as it was hot during the day but then it cooled down. Luckily, your apartment building was only a block away, so it wasn’t that bad of a walk.

His words still rang through your head. That was his only comeback nowadays ever since he found out. You thought he hated it, for how much he teased you about sleeping with the stuffed animals. But secretly, though he would never admit it, he found it cute that you do. It made him happy seeing you happy, although you weren’t feeling it right now.

You thought actually sleeping with them bothered him, so as your mind was overflowing with rage, you did the petty thing.

You threw them all away.

Well, not really. You just stuffed them all in a bag and put it in your closet. But, it felt like you did because your once overfilled bed was now empty, the only thing on it was your clothes, pillows, and obvious blankets.

Your phone was blowing from texts and calls from Miles. You looked over at it and rolled your eyes. You put your phone on do not disturb, charged it, and then got in bed. All you needed right now was some rest, so you closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep. Though, it was hard without at least one thing to hold.

Miles on the other hand, was freaking out. He was pacing around his room angrily, you guys never ended on bad terms. You would always make up, because he knew how important it was for you to have closure. He wanted to make this relationship work, and right now he felt like he was failing it.

“Pick up the phone, Y/N,” he mumbled, silently cursing everytime it went straight to voicemail. He groaned and left his room, saying a quick goodbye to his mom before leaving the apartment.

He walked, practically ran to your apartment where he barged in because you forgot to lock the door. Your parents were out on a work trip right now, so he reminded himself to scold you later on this. But for now, his only priority was to set things right and make it up to you.

He slowly opened your bedroom door, from the light being off he figured you were asleep. That was all until you turned around to look at the light that was entering your room, and groaned when you saw Miles standing in your doorway. “Fuck off.”

He scoffed and made his way towards you, “That’s no way to talk to me, now is it?” He joked, though you weren’t having it.

“What the hell are you doing here, Miles.” You turned away from him, so he couldn’t see the anger that was still looming on your face.

“Whatchu think I’m here for? I’m here to make it up to you. We’re not leaving on bad terms, and I swear by that.”

You didn’t respond, and that left Miles quiet. He observed the position you were in, and noticed your bed looked different.

“Ma, where’s all your stuffed animals?” He asked, concern in his voice. He shuffled around your bed, looking over you and looking at the end of your bed.

“Gone,” you mumbled. He paused in his tracks, looking over at you even though you couldn’t see him. Your back was facing the wall, so he immediately turned you around to face him.

“Fuck you mean gone?”

“I mean, gone, Miles. Like, they’re not here.” He was shocked, you loved those things more than anything. He looked around your room, for any sign of them.

None.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled before hurrying out of the room. You rolled your eyes and turned around in your bed again, feeling slightly bad that you lied to him.

However, Miles was going to the nearest store to get you something. He walked down the aisles of the store, searching for the perfect plushie. He grimaced at all of them, as they all looked unintentionally creepy. He decided on a pink teddy bear, as it looked the most tame and he knew how much you liked teddy bears. He went up to the register and paid for it, then rushed back to your apartment.

You were almost asleep when he barged in once again and sat on your bed. “Turn around.” When you didn’t, he turned you around himself and what you saw in his hands shocked you.

You sat up to face him, you didn’t expect him to buy you a teddy bear. You took it from his hands, admiring it slightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Y’know, I actually find it cute how you sleep with these.” You looked up at him and smiled, then fell into his arms.

“It’s alright, I guess. Thanks for the bear,” he hummed in response, to which you continued, “there’s a bag in my closet, do you think you can get it?” He pulled away slightly and raised an eyebrow at you, watching as you giggled against his chest.

He peeled away from you and walked to your closet, silently cursing when he saw the bag full of stuffed animals. “You’re full of shit, y’know that right?”

You laughed as he threw the bag at you, you throwing one of your pillows back at him in response. “You loooove me though.”

He walked back to your bed and put the pillow you threw at him back on the bed, and laid down with you. “You got one thing right,” he said as you adjusted in his arms.

“Oh, and also, don’t forget to lock your door. Can’t let anyone taking m’ girl away.”

“Go to sleep, Miles.”

TAGS ↣ @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[peachysunrize]

Owned ⥃ Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After nearly following Silverwing to Dragonstone mindlessly, Aemond comes back to the keep to posses you, his Queen once more.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! A tad bit dark!Aemond! There is noooooo plot, brainless smut, absolute filth and dirt and fucking, rough Aemond, possessive Aemond, READER IS AEGON’S WIFE!! public sex! Balcony sex inspired by Aemond’s scene s2e7, breeding, no prep, Aemond is mad and angry, very very rough sex, please tell me if I’ve missed something! English isn’t my first language<33

Word count: 1.5k

My other works

A/n: no words. No plot full of porn. Enjoy my freaky folks! Thank you @thekinslayed for feeding my delusions🤭 Reblogs & comments are appreciated🩷 also not a word is beta-ed.

You watch the buzzing city silently from the council room’s balcony, sighing when the large shadow of Vhagar looms over the sight, her screech cutting through the air with force. You can feel the restlessness in her, it must be Aemond who is raging from inside as he guides her outside the city towards the hill where she rests most of the time. 

You look down at the castle’s grounds; the chill in the air has become a nuisance for the gardeners, bringing the flowers to their deaths faster than expected, just like how the infection spreads through your husband’s body.

With another sigh, you look at the hill Vhagar lands on, the ground shaking beneath her heavy weight. You know it will be some time until Aemond arrives at the castle, but the idea of him being enraged with how a dragon was claimed and the Blacks now have the upper hand makes you worried; you do not know how to calm the wild dragon within him.

You wait until you crane your neck and see him returning on the horse, barging through the castle gates before he jumps down from the saddle, taking long strides towards the entrance with fury bursting through his veins.

Fiddling with your hand, you hear his rushed footsteps approaching the council room, each step has your heart racing — with what? You do not know, or you do not wish to acknowledge it. After all, this silly little affair that the council has bestowed on you to produce an heir has turned into something more, or at least the numbers you have warmed each other’s beds cannot be counted with fingers anymore.

Your head snaps towards the direction of the door, watching as Aemond walks past the guards, ordering them to go out with bark in his tone, fists clenching and unclenching as he tries to keep his anger at bay, but ultimately fails, and the next thing you know is the heavy chair of the council is being thrown and Aemond slams his fists on the table, groaning in anger and frustration.

“They have more dragons,” he whispers, but you hear the sound of his rough breathing, “they can end this war if I do nothing!”

“My prince, you should—“

“I should what?” He looks up from the marble table, glaring at you with his good eye, “Listen to your advice? Letting my council run the realm while I do fucking nothing?”

“Maybe you ought to put your arrogance aside for once—“

Aemond walks towards you on the balcony, his face hardening as he grabs your jaw tightly, smirking as he sees your lips quivering not in fear, but more in determination to show you are more than what the council wants you to be. And with your pretty thighs rubbing together, he knows how every minor actor of his has you putty in his hands.

“My arrogance, My Queen, is the only reason the walls of this castle haven’t fallen yet,” he leans down, his nose brushing against yours roughly as he whispers against your lips, “Not everyone can sit prettily in a gown and wait for her prince regent to come and fuck an heir inside her.”

“Your arrogance and bruised ego are why they have more dragons than us. You could have kept your ambitions from blinding you at Rook’s Rest, maybe then, our King would be able to fight with you at the battlefield—“ you are cut off by a gasp as he turns you around and bends you over the balcony stones harshly.

Your chest comes in contact with the cold stone and you slap your hand on your mouth as a loud moan erupts from your lips when Aemond presses his entire body to your backside, feeling the hard bulge in his pants rubbing against your covered thigh.

“My ambitions are why your filthy inappropriate fantasies have come to life,” he leans over you, his teeth finding their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, sinking into the flesh without a single thought, “did you not tell me you wish it was me taking you every night instead of my brother? Yes, yes, it was you. Just as it is you who will take my cock until my seed has taken root, and my babe — our future King —  licks at your womb.”

You bite down on your fingers hard, grinding your hips back into his crotch as soon as he pushes the layers of your gown up to your waist, chuckling when he sees you shivering the moment your bare heated sex is exposed to the open air.

“We should not be doing this here! What if someone hears?” You ask Aemond, throwing your head back when he swipes his fingers through your wetness, humming before he reaches for the loops of his belt, pulling his pants and breeches down before he grabs his cock, stroking it a few times to full hardness.

“Let them hear, let them hear their queen doing her duty. There is no better way to show them how the heir to the throne was conceived,” he replies, one hand bracing himself on your shoulder blades to keep you completely bent over and unable to move while the other lines up his thick leaking head with your entrance before he enters you swiftly with one smooth stroke.

“Aemond!” You cry out, your fingers falling from your lips as he sets his pace, fucking you recklessly and with abandon, not caring if anyone hears you, or better, sees you. 

“Yes, My Queen? Already screaming my name? I almost pity my brother, almost. Gods know if you have not screamed “Aemond”  in his ears,” he smirks to himself when you grab the edge of the stone, your body moving with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck—“

“Yes, that’s right—“ he groans, his hand gripping your hip tightly, “you were always mine, fucking mine. Even when you shared his bed, you were thinking of me, wishing and praying that one day you will be owned by me.”

“Yes, My Prince, yes!” You moan, not thinking if anyone would hear you, it did not matter anyway since the words of your affair and marital activities have reached the whores of the Flea Bottom.

“Oh, sweet Queen of mine, I have possessed you; first with words, now with my cock. We only need a babe to seal our bond,” he reaches around your body, finding your pearl in seconds as he starts rubbing quick circles on the nerves, making you arch your back and meet his thrusts as best as possible.

You can only nod at his words, truly succumbing to his and your desires once and for all, the pleasure only adding to his determination to fuck you, and you to show your devotion to him.

“They have more dragons, I have a cunt worth dying for. I guess I shall win this war.”

Suddenly, the doors to the council room open, and the cupbearer drops the jar of wine on the floor when he sees the two of you on the balcony, you moaning and Aemond fucking you. 

The sound catches Aemond’s attention immediately, pulling out of you slowly before he waltzes towards the balcony doors, looking the man dead in the eyes and cock out before he demands; “Out, now,” and slams the doors shut.

He comes back, his fingers wrapping around his dick before he sees you straightening your back a little. He has no time for silly little games, his balls are aching and the image of your swollen cunt is too much for him to let you go and find a better place to resume your activities.

“Aemond—“

“Hush you,” he pushes you back down, bending you over once more before he thrusts his cock back into your welcoming cunt, groaning in sync with your shriek as your warmth envelops his length, “just take it, yes, take it. No one can stop me from taking what’s mine. I will fuck you day and night for fortnights to come, I will have you, mark you as mine until everyone smells me on you.”

Even the idea of it has you shaking and trembling as your peak hits you hard and fast, the pleasure rushing through your veins as you gush around his cock. Hands bracing your body on the stones, you cry out his name, drawing Aemond closer to his high.

He follows not long after, grabbing your waist with both hands before he hammers himself into you roughly, stilling his hips harshly against yours, caging your body between his and the balcony stones as he empties his balls inside you, ropes of his cum painting your inside while he throws his head back, chest rising and falling rapidly.

There is no doubt in your head anymore, that Aemond has possessed you in more than one way, more than one place. After all, he will go to war barehanded if he can come back home to you and your heavenly cunt.

[chastiefoul]

—finally giving up on your unrequited love ft. alhaitham

a/n: ouch i hurt myself writing this. wc: 1.6k words of yapping about unrequited feelings

once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.

it seemed like a blessing once, like acceptance. the slightest open of the door, thinking you could invite yourself in and he’d embrace that fact. but as his apathy remain constant and unchanging, you’ve come to realization—an embarassing one at that.

that indifference, that should’ve been a sign for you; alhaitham will never return your feelings.

-

 a stroll a day, keeps the stressful thoughts away.

however today’s walk is just not doing it for you, once you decided to wake up from the dreamland you thought you’ve been living in. a faraway and unrealistic vision of a life where you end up together with the akademiya scribe. an exaggerated sigh escaped you at your own daydreaming. usually by now you’d be quick on your feet to visit the scribe, however the overdue revelation you had last night made you finally think twice before doing it. and only because of that now you’d realized just how much of your life was centered on the grey-haired man, which was a scary discovery, knowing just exactly how little you mattered to his.

you found an empty bench mid-walk, immediately sitting on it. you leaned back, both of your hands holding your weight as you look above. the sky was clear that day, but your mind was clearer, as if a thick fog has finally been lifted.

seriously, what have you been doing all this time? giving your all to someone who wanted none of you. alhaitham’s curt nod, his brief and short responses really should’ve been a clue as to how he felt about you. yet you kept being stubborn, and sometimes hope was human’s greatest enemy. what should have been a bare minimum gesture he did, your mind managed to twist it into something more; clinging to it like a water on a desert. when it turned out that was exactly all there was to it—a mirage.

you chuckled sadly. even remembering those pathetic displays, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully regret having this feeling towards alhaitham. those moments where you’d steal a glance at him and felt like the world was okay. you would not allow yourself to forget that as you became more selfish, wanting him to look at you and feel the same. but here you were, reluctantly learning to accept the fact that he may never does.

suddenly a shadow loomed over you, shielding you from the sunlight you didn’t realize was so bright.

a familiar blond invaded your vision. “(y/n)?” he called out unsure, not expecting you to be there. “oh hi there, kaveh,” you lightly said, as if your heavy train of thoughts hadn’t existed at all. you adjusted your sitting position, shifting yourself to the side as you spare an empty spot beside you for him to sit. kaveh swiftly took your silent offer up, making himself as comfortable as he could on the wooden bench. “i spotted you from afar and you seemed a little troubled, hopefully i was wrong?” the ever so kind kaveh spoke up, and you couldn’t help but smile. kaveh always felt like a friend more than alhaitham ever was, albeit knowing him after you got to know the scribe. you weren’t even sure if the grey-haired man would ever mention even a word about his roommate if it wasn’t for you hanging wround on his office on a peaceful lunch break when the fuming blond barged in and yell at him about a key.

as it turned out, it’s a known fact that most people became quiet irritable when it comes to being in contact with the curt and aloof scribe, since kaveh has been nothing but a good friend since the day he gave you a weird look about wanting to get close to the acting grand master.

“it’s kind of complicated to say,” you started, thinking of the words as you went on. “let’s just say i’m having a quite bittersweet moment.”

you rested your gaze on the bustling street in front of you. he nodded in reply, “i’m guessing it’s more bitter than it is sweet?” he asked genuinely as you smiled once more despite not feeling a drop of mirth. “i suppose so,” you replied curtly, not knowing what to say to his keen observation. keen and exactly correct.

it’s the kind of bitterness that lingered. a kind of flavor you’d expected, since you’re the one who put it in. still, when that sharp taste hit your tongue you couldn’t help but flinch. after all, things don’t stop affecting you even though you saw it coming from miles away. you just hoped the sweetness will get stronger overtime, overpowering as it wash down the unpleasant aftertaste.

kaveh mirrored your smile in return except his looked particularly patronizing, as if he could sense your helplessness.

“will you tell me what happened?” his voice sounded gentle, a care you’ve never heard from the man you’d give a limb to for him to say things along that line. how do you even begin to answer such a simple question? nothing happened, and that’s why it was the problem. the fact that you’re the only one who’s mulling all over this, being so conflicted to what he thought must be nothing. a pain so overwhelming that’s swirling all over your chest while his biggest inconvenient that day was probably a typo made in a document made by a lousy student.

the whole thing just sounded so... pathetic.

“nothing happened... it’s just, i have decided to finally give up on something,” you try your best to sound nonchalant despite having no bravery to look at him, scared that he didn’t look like he believed you.

“well, i might know a thing or two about it. sometimes when an architecture project is too... unreasonable,” kaveh paused, the word tasted like a sour lime on his mouth. “there’s no way but to give it up. especially if you take a step back as take the whole picture from many aspects; in my case, there are budget, location, materials, and so on. there would definitely be some regret about letting go especially an ambitious task, however i think many of my past-self would really like to give the present-me a big gratitude for not forcing it through,” he rambled on, despite having no idea what were you referring on. “even sometimes, the reward was just not worth the risk, you know?” he ended it at that, throwing the question at you.

you swallowed on nothing, but you needed that to let out a reply.

“yes, i do know.”

“yeah? does this mean in your case, whatever you were fighting for was not worth it in the end?”

oh, that’s the worst part. you knew, you knew it with your heart, body and soul that it would be so worth it if there’s an outcome, a scenario where alhaitham might return your feelings. oh it would be so worth it. you could smile, just imagining how worth it would it be.

but that was all it was. an unattainable imagination. an ending that you couldn’t allow yourself to be so cocky to reach.

kaveh waited for your respond patiently, but when the silence had gone for too long he moved his stare to you. he widened his eyes, his gaze softened.

“i don’t think you’re as okay as you made yourself to be,” he said softly, as you felt your cheeks wet by the uninvited tears, running along freely across your face. yet, you couldn’t make an effort to stop them, your heart knew more than anyone you needed that. to feel the sadness, to recognize it.

to let go of the fact that alhaitham will never return your feelings.

kaveh was just quiet as you sobbed quietly, putting a handkerchief silently at the space between you both. there is no empty consolation, no comforting words, no small pats on the back. there’s just silence, a little safe bubble for you to cry in without people coming over to you and asked why.

giving up is such a funny thing, how could doing it hurt more than to keep trying even though you received no sign of reciprocity at all? but you knew the answer of that.

when there hasn’t been a rejection, it’s in everyone’s nature to have hope. a hope that there’s a chance of obtaining something you’ve wished for. a chance that something could happen.

giving up means finality. a state of accepting an outcome you hadn’t wanted. a result you never asked for. an ending where all that’s left was what should have and what could have. a harsh reality people could only accept as it dangled the possibilities and visions of what ‘could have happened’ if you’d just kept trying right in front of your eyes.

like chasing your own shadow; a fun thing to do when you’re a child, but now it’s just a fitting metaphor, reminding you of a fool’s way who love in such a pathetic way.

-

once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.

but now it’s definitely a curse. after all, anything that has to do with love was not indifference.

it was never, indifference.

---

the urge to write this in alhaitham pov........................ should i?