#takes place before deep drive

[duckapus]

When she actually has time to think about it later, she'll realize that it should've been impossible. All foreign code, from entire cities to a Pingas Head to something as small and inconsequential as a pen she'd borrowed from Wareach and forgotten to return, was supposed to have been left behind (and likely fizzle out of existence in the code-dense space between servers, if it hadn't been for a few particularly powerful visitors. not that Jayin knew that. not that she'd have cared if she did know) when the Connected Cosmos Company took GP's copy of the game back.

And yet, she'd found it, wedged in the bottom of the passenger seat collecting dust. A little red-and-white metal ball, scuffed and scratched from years of adventures with a tiny half-faded yellow lightning bolt painted on the front just above the button.

Most of the time, she has no idea what it is, what significance it holds. It's just a neat little curiosity, something to pull out of the glove compartment and fidget with when she needs to Do Something with her hands besides just steer but it's not safe enough outside to stop driving and tinker with the van. With how hectic things get sometimes she'll forget she even has it for days on end.

But in those rare moments, when the memories of her other life burst out of their cage, jumbles and raging and straining so hard at the chains pulling them back that it hurts and she can barely breathe, it becomes one of her last links to reality.

She takes shaky, shallow gulp of air, clutching Pikachu's Pokeball to her chest, and once again does her best to sort through the memories for as long as she still has them.

"M-my name is...Tulip Orpheus.

I am... seventeen years old.

I ran away from home when I was sixteen.

I'm... I am a... video game character...

Seven years ago, my game was...was filled with memes via a mod pack...to b-bring it to life.

I was seventeen when that happened. I am still seventeen because that is the age my character model was designed to be, and the people who modded my game haven't had a reason to change it yet.

I am an-an Avatar. I am the seventh Avatar.

This means that I am an anchor-point that keeps my game stable. If I... die, so does the rest of the world.

I have...two partners, who came with the mod pack. They help me st-stay alive, and they make art with the memes. This also keeps the game stable.

Their names are Super Meme Guardian 7 and Super Meme Guardian 10. They usually just use their initials because that's a mouthful.

There are currently...twenty? Yeah, t-twenty Avatars. But only across seventeen games. Two of them turned out to be evil and are in prison. Three of them died, but one came back. Two are...complicated. There was another complicated one, but that was fixed a few months ago.

I am friends with the other Avatars. I'm closest with a half-genie dancer named Shantae, a Pokemon trainer named Ash Ketchum, and a space-traveling alien delivery man named Captain Ol-Olimar.

I am being trained to defend myself by a Keyblade wielder named Sora."

Another, slightly steadier breath.

"My game...was created by the Connected Cosmos Company.

They took my copy of the game back, and put its data in a new game.

I don't know for sure, but I think they did it to three of the other Avatars too.

They tried to make me forget my time as an Avatar.

It only partially worked.

I don't know why.

I...I am alone." her vision gets blurry. She doesn't stop the tears, "I am not supposed to be alone anymore.

I am alone, I am in danger, and I am scared."

She feels the memories slipping away again, and grips the ball tighter.

"I... I am... real.

My memories are real.

My friends are Real.

MY FAMILY IS REAL!

They're real, and they're coming for me, and nothing will stop them.

And when they find me, I will never be alone again."

The bit of fire she found inside herself burns up far too soon, and she rapidly goes from determined to desperate as the cage door closes once more, "Please let them be real..."

A moment later, she looks around in confusion. She doesn't know why she's sitting on the floor of the van, or why she's been crying, or why she's holding that weird ball.

What she does know, is that she needs to get ready for another hard day of surviving the nightmare her world's become.

Not like someone's gonna swoop in and save her from it, after all.

[skunkes]

abt to say smthng deranged

but ive reverted to accepting my fate here especially since im really really lazy and stupid and just want to draw but the only sharp thing still poking at my sides is wanting to transition and how I know as soon as my birthday rolls around I'll wish I had done anything to get out and start that, while sobbing hysterically over how the years just keep passing me by in that regard. 14 years. 15 years. And many many more.

But at the same time its like. I wouldnt want to claw my way out solely to transition (which at this point would be the sole positive thing about leaving). Because whats the point. I want to be transitioned before I really look for or accept love, yes, but moving out and doing so wouldn't lead to that I dont think. Id be living the same life im living here, but Worse and more exhausting. So i also dont see the worth in fighting to do it.

I feel those 2 views are at odds, but, like, its never enough to do things just for myself even if I really need it. It always has to be in relation to someone else. There would not be a someone else so why bother. Im not finding love while I live here so it doesn't Really matter if i cant do it, but this wouldnt change if i left so why would I fight for it. Why be the true version of me if I have nobody to share Me with (especially considering it will ostracize me from most everyone else I love.) I dont know

[bootyful-seventeen]

hey y'all, anyone have any good stress relief tehniques or habits they'd like to share cuz I've been more stressed in the last 3 weeks then I was in the last 6 months

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, mating press, soft dom choso, squirtīng, p spanking, dirty talk, size kink, praise, mdni.

you tell choso it’s practically impossible to make you orgasm – and he ends up making you squirt instead.

“really?” he’d huff in a ginger cooing voice, sucking his teeth together as he watches a thick portion of his cock disappear between your sweet soddened folds. you let off a gasping moan once you glance down, getting a wide view of him easing his hefty weight into you. choso’s got you in mating press—a position he’s been wanting to try with you for a while, and with the way you were easily clenching around him had his entire body twitching. as he’s being as gentle as possible, he lets off a soft grunt before placing a bare hand on your tummy. “so you mean like . . never, baby?”

“n- never,” you inhale an incoming breath. your legs were sprawled ‘n spread — creating a stretched ‘v’ shape with your trembling feeble limbs. choso’s got a hand wrapped around his aching shaft before he starts to gradually sink inside of you deeper. “u..ughhh,” you hiss out, hearing your own wanton squelches shriek right out of your sopping pussy. choso smears a thumb down your entrance and you could see the cunt drunken grin starting to warp against his lips. “fuck, jus make me cum choso. like that, harder.”

“okay,” choso gruffly groans, his swollen sack already starting to mercilessly slap against your entrance. it’s loud numerous ‘thwap!’ ‘s and your glassy eyes widen the moment he slowly lifts up your leg just a bit higher, sexily throwing his head back with a carnal eye-flickering-roll. “just hold still,” and with one hand, he softly caresses your chin. “ ‘n keep those pretty eyes on me. gooood girl.”

intently, dark mousy eyes bore into you whilst he’s slowly driving his inside of you. you’re whimpering, already starting to hear the growling snarling creaks of the wooden bed frame ring against your ears.

“t- thaaat’s it,” choso grunts, and you can feel his honed hips tilt inward. he’s big, and with the gaping stretch he’d always create—it’s got invisible cogwheels spinning ‘n turning at the insides of your empty brain. it doesn’t take him long before he’s sensually pounding you with deep loving thorough thrusts, making sure he’s buried at the hilt. choso’s heavily panting with raspy breaths, clawing a hand through his shaggy black strands. he’s so pretty, and you couldn’t help but stare at him whilst he’s tenderly ravaging your sweet gripping walls. choso’s hair flawlessly of his flows down his narrow shoulders before he moans. “goddd, so good. doin’ so good.”

with a cute shrilling ‘oh!’ the moment his bulbous tip meanly slams into your sweetened sensitive spots, your jaw dangles agape.

he’s already reached it, and every time his body crashes into yours at full speed at such miles per fucking hour . . your skin sticks to stick against his like glue. smacking smacks of fleshy mounds gum against each other as he’s jackhammering his slim hips up and down before you shriek. “choso… ohmygod, right there. fuck me, fuh—”

“quiet,” he whispers, grabbing your chin. your eyes meet his, and as raven bangs string down his eyes, choso gives you a quick kiss. it’s sloppy, and you moan while he’s still buried balls deep. each risqué stroke has you dizzy, craving for more and as his tongue curls through the layout of your sweltering hot mouth, he briefly pulls away. choso huskily grunts, his powerful hits against your cunt creating loud squelches that resounded off the thinly-made walls. “f- fuck, hear that, baby? think she’s trying to hah . . get a word in.”

choso’s weight remains hovering over your body as he’s pounding into you. you moan, feeling his hot breath waft against your skin as he buries his face into the cove of your left shoulder. a hand reaches between your legs, and he starts to smear all kinds of circles ‘n shapes against your glittery wet cunt. wetly, he’s lightly smacking his palm against your stuffed full entrance, droplets of your honeyed juices splattering against his hand.

‘psh’ after ‘psh’ and choso grunts, hearing how you were not only vocal from your mouth, but in between your legs too. “so pretty,” he whispers, licking a stripe down your neck, softly nibbling a playful munch at your skin. “c’mon, baby. ‘m gonna need you to make a mess for me.”

oh, his hips were just the definition of fervent though.

your pussy’s hysterically gurgling out desperate sloppy pleads of want and need as your nails decorate his toned back with many many scratches. choso’s back was your own personal canvas—and he loved whenever your fingers would drag down his skin—painting areas of his flesh every single time. “cho- chosooo,” you whine out, tossing your arms over him. you could feel his back muscles tense, feeling his askew hips deepen its strenuous hits against your pussy. it was orgasmic – his rhythm alone, and your toes were already curled, mouth dropped, eyes bulged. “ ‘m gonna cum, make me cum choso.”

“uh huh. like that, you got it,” he purrs, feeling your cute legs starting to grow limp. he’s so nice with his hips, making sure he’s got the perfect angle. choso’s cock runs through you languidly, it’s slow but steady but also speedily fast. you could feel his stout cock repeatedly trying to kiss it’s way at your fluttering g-spot before you let off a trilling whine. “easy, easyyy girl,” he cups your face, a fat thumb stroking the right side of your mouth. “hey. look at me, baby. you got it,” choso repeats, and as he’s lewdly moaning right with you, bodies slamming in such luscious rapture, choso sprinkles kisses near your chin. “give it t’ me. be my messy baby, thaaaat’s it.”

right at his exact words—you felt yourself tightening up. . although something within you bursts, and you bite down on your jaw. it’s sudden, it’s so sudden that your eyes start rolling the second you realize you’re gushing down on his cock. a shaky breath leaves out of choso as he instantaneously pauses his hips—stilling his cock inside of you without moving anymore.

pretty doe-enlarged eyes with hearts swarming in his irises focuses primarily on you, and you could hear him whining out a ‘holy shiiiit’ while you mewl out your oh-so euphoric release.

it felt like forever but it was only for about three seconds, and you’re stupidly cross-eyed, moaning once choso starts to gradually pull out. “h- heh, baby chose to be wet today, huh,” and you let off a sobbing whimper once you feel him starting to smear his tip against your leaky cunt.

you’re drooling from your glossy puffed slit, and as he’s starting to politely smack his hardened cock onto your twitching heat, choso grunts. ‘you’re sooo pretty like this,’ the exact phrase that repeats in his brain like a mantra.

“let go, good girl. keep goin’. make me just as messy as you, princess,” and your brain merely short circuits. the elatedly shocking friction of his plump tip playfully hitting your soaked cunt has nothing but cute babbles departing from your babbling lips. choso drags his swollen cockhead down further, stopping at the bottom of your clit before letting out a shuddering, ‘phew.’

“c- choso, fuck,” you moan, still feeling staticky tingles roam through every vein of your body. that was unlike any feeling you’ve felt before. as his eyes soften, meeting your gaze—choso’s nudely glistening body shadows over yours. seconds later, he slowly trails his head down, propping himself between your legs. through hazy lensed eyes, you peer down, peeping at him while finding a hand of yours pawing its way through his tangled inky strands of hair. “mhh.”

“baby,” choso whispers hoarsely, his voice a bit rough and gritty from moaning for so long. such detail made you throb and he knew it too. leisurely, he’s beginning to lick a straight slope up your weeping cunt.

he can’t help but give it a open stare for a few seconds, taking your beauty from between your legs alllll in. it’s so pretty ‘n puffed — dribbling from the sides of your slick own arousal that shot out a shimmering geyser just a few seconds ago.

you’re tender, and he can’t help but slather his hot pink tongue between the crevices of your folds. “think . . you can be my sloppy girl one time?” and as he gives your pussy one quick french kiss, he pouts at you with a wry pussy drunk grin.

“pretty please?”

[emirrea]

I'm gonna be staying over at my parents' place for a decent while and I was wondering if I should take my scarameow with me bc I'm so used to falling asleep while cuddling it. But I know if I take it with me, not only will I get teased about it the entire time I'm there, but also it'll just end up smelling completely like tobacco with how much my parents smoke T_T

[s0dium]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Synopsis: Ever wondered what JJK men with a heavy breeding kink would be like? Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Monsterform!Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru, Choso, Nanami Kento Warnings: Breeding, rough sex, praise, cum kink, Monsterform!Sukuna, masturbation, PUSSY DRUNK, fingering, nipple play, edging begging, mentions of pregnancy, mating press, overstimulation, marathon sex, degrading, cum kink, subspace, mirror sex, cowgirl

Toji Fushiguro 

It's almost a little game of his, how many times can he cum in you.

Loathes condoms. Toji hates the plastic flimsy things, but after Megumi he would probably be more cautious, his pull out game becomes stronger

The type to keep you plugged up for a bit with his dick after he cums

If any slips out he will use his thumb to slip it back it

Probably doesn't even ask. Every time you fuck him he is gonna cum into you. Such a slut, you deserve it.

“You're doing such a good job baby, taking this like a champ,” Toji moans between grunts, his eyes closed, tips of his ears bright red from the pleasure, and his black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. How long has Toji been dreaming about this exact moment? How many times did he fuck his fist to the image of how your pretty face looks right now? More importantly, he realizes, this is it, this is when he can fulfill his biggest fantasy that's been gnawing at his brain like a parasite; he can finally pump his cum into your sweet belly like he has fantasized about.

“Ngh~ too f-fast~” Tears trickled down your face and yet your hips were needly bucking up to take his dick like there was some how more of him to take. What a glutton for punishment you were, but soon that burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious pleasure. You started to arch you back off the bed like a bow and you lock your legs around his back, holding yourself in place so he could fuck you like an animal. The sound of your hips meeting was so loud, that you were sure if any of your neighbors walked by would know what you were doing. Like you cared.

It's as if a primal need has taken hold of Toji, your pleas for him to slow down only go in and out of his ears. With every snap of his hips a creamy ring of arousal forms at his base from your arousal and his precrum. Each movement creates intense friction that heightens the pleasure and the collision of your bodies sends waves of ecstasy through you, making it impossible to hold back your moans. Each motion brings a profound sense of connection and exhilaration, intertwining you closer to the brink of overwhelming joy. The friction of Toji's dick rubbing your walls is enough to leave you breathless and eagerly anticipating each subsequent moment.

"G-gonna cum baby, your gonna take it." He is practically tumbling over his words now from the vice grip your pussy has on his cock. Thank god you are also nearing your peak because you don't know how much more your body can take, you need to use your legs tomorrow.

"Fuck fuck FUCK!" With a loud moan, Toji buries himself deep into your creamy pussy, relishing in the warm feeling, before pumping a heavy load of warm cum into your womb. His cum doesn't stop until your belly was swollen with the hot liquid and your toes curled from the pleasure. The heat spreads through your body, driving you to the edge of pleasure. The overwhelming sensation finally takes over, pushing you into a state of pure ecstasy.

As your pussy convulses, Toji doesn't leave the warmth of your cunt for a second, keeping you plugged and stuffed with his cum.

"Fell so good princess, ya feel like heaven."

Gojo Satoru 

You question whether this is all a dream. It's utterly euphoric, enveloped by every aspect of Gojo—his heady scent, the warmth of his skin, and his mesmerizing voice echoing in your ears. It's a sensory overload that feels almost too intense to be real.

“Oh, where did you float off too, princess?” he coos, watching the glossy, faraway look take over your eyes. Despite this, Gojo keeps up his brutal pace his breathing becoming jagged and irregular. There’s no warning when he comes.

"Love you," you babble, "Love you so much please c-cum in me." Your words are strung out on your lips from how fucking good you feel. As you succumb to each of his forceful, fast movements movements, waves of intense pleasure cascade through you.

“Shit” Gojo spoke through a gritted smile as he blew his load. Almost as if he was unfazed by his ejaculation, Gojo keeps sliding his member in and out, his milky semen leaking out as he continues to push into you relentlessly, not loosing a second of speed.

The sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum trapped inside you, his thrusts are not only slicker and frictionless with the help of his hot cum,

“M-mhm..” your humming earns a guttural groan from the male above you, “m’ Please don't stop Satoru please don't stop” you cry, and how could he not? Of course, he was going to fuck his second load into you especially when you asked so nicely.

Geto suguru

Above all else, Geto Suguru is a family man

There is nothing more he wants than to see your belly round with his kid, to watch your breasts swell with milk

“Fuck princess you feel so fucking good.” Geto’s words come out accompanied with a chuckle, basking in the way your walls hug his dick.

Straddling Geto Suguru, you feel the solid strength of his arms as he effortlessly lifts you up and down his dick. Each controlled movement is a testament to his power, his hands firm and guiding. Your body has gone slack at this point, the muscles in your legs too tired from its constant tremblings and tightening due to how deliciously he fucked you. Good? Try Euphoric. You were in heaven from the way the tip of his fat dick collided with your gspot. He uses you like a sex toy, shaping your walls with his cock.

Long stray black strands of hair fall from his loose bun as he leans over to whisper into your ear. “Want me to fill you up don't you? Watch you grow round our child—” One of his thumbs rolls over your hardened nubs as he gropes at your chest, causing you to keen at the added stimulation, "These will fill with sweet sweet milk, we’ll make sure there’s enough to share with me. Isn’t that what you want?”  Geto’s balls slap against your ass every time you bottom out on his dick.

“Oh fuh-“ His voice comes out breathless. You can feel each harsh contraction of his balls while he creams inside your pussy, such a tight fit that a ring of it seeps out at the base of where he’s connected to you. 

Choso

Choso cant count the number of times he’s touched himself to the thought of filling you up with cum over and over again, till glistening tears streamed down your pretty face and you were meekly begging him to stop. 

He doesn't know why but to Choso, its almost instinct to breed you up, and how could he resist? From the way your hips swayed to your honey-coated whines that escaped your mouth when he aggressively kissed you, you were practically asking for it. 

“Cho~!” you coo, reaching up and planting messy kisses along his chin. Heavy, hot pants escaped both of your mouths as your hips struggled to meet his brutal pace, to no avail.

Quite frankly Choso didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, of course, he knew you’d feel good, but not this good. Fuck, his fleshlight felt like sandpaper compared to the way your gummy walls sucked and spasmed around him. 

“Fuck me fuck me fuck me please don't sto-” You cut yourself off with as squeal when you felt Choso pull out for a quick second before slamming back into you with a grunt; the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. 

“Mm’feel so good baby, m’so good y/n” Choso whines were muffled due to how his face was buried in the crook of your neck, your scent only serving to bring him closer and closer to the edge. “m’ gonna cum- princess m’gonna cum inside.” he cuts of with a groan of his own, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into your walls.

Nanami Kento

See the thing is, Nanami didn't even know he had a breeding kink

It wasn't until he came in you for the first time, it wasn't until he watched it spill out and cover your pussy in a creamy white glaze that he became addicted. 

From that point on, Nanami loathed condoms. 

The side of your mouth was a mess of dripping drool. Legs spread apart by the crooks of his elbows, you let our a strangled whine as you watched Nanami hammer himself into you like a starved man. 

“Nanami!” you sob, reaching up to bury your face in his neck, “Please cum in me please!”

“F-fuck y/n, what did you just say?” He groans, brows furrowed and arm muscles straining as he continues to hold your hips in a death grip and fuck you. You met his stare, breathing heavily with sweat dotting your brow.

“I-I, want you to cum in me… please.” Brown eyes widen at your words, causing a warm rush of pleasure to spread through your tummy and tighten the coil.

“Oh, you filthy little fuck.” His movements began with renewed vigor, hips snapping against you almost painfully as you moaned without restraint. You felt full; completely stuffed by Nanami as he stretched your hole with every thrust.

Sukuna Ryomen

One of the many kinks the curse has

Nothing, and he means nothing is more satisfying than pressing down on your tummy and watching the load of cum spill out from you.

And whats the harm if you get knocked up while he’s at it? The king of all curses needs an heir anyways. 

A hum of satisfaction escaped as he watched your used battered body twitch in the reflection of the mirror every time Sukuna teasingly rubbed your clit in half circles with his thumb. 

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive”.

Two of the curse's other muscular hands played with your nipples, twisting and running over them with his index finger and thumb, flicking over them like one would turning on and off a light switch. How long have you been sitting in his dick, letting fingers work your clit and nipples to the very brink of a mind splitting orgasm, only for the high to be snatched away from you?

“Look at you” Sukuna hummed, his giving a teasing thrust right into your cervix making you gasp for air. You needed more movement, you needed friction; sitting on his dick spread in front of a mirror wasn't enough. “So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his fingers moved over your clit.

“Don't worry little thing, I’ll fill you up soon.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

Might I inquire as to what, precisely, a Mustain't is? (Aside from a string of letters I hesitate to Google in that order.)

In October 2014 I went on a road-trip to the Dryest Place In America.

I was having a rough year, very depressed from having dropped out of college for the third time. I decided a road trip was in order to re-set my brain and get a little distance. Being that it was October, and therefore all the campgrounds in the American Southwest were filled with people who have the good sense to camp in reasonable temperatures, I elected to take my parent's minivan so I could car-camp anywhere suitably isolated, and looked up some of the southwest's geographic extremes- the highest place I could drive to (Pikes Peak), the lowest place (Badwater Basin), and for fun, the Dryest Place in the continental US, which turned out to be the Pinacate Volcanic field just west of Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. It gets rain maybe twice a century and has no standing water, despite being less than 100 miles from the gulf of California.

It's a startlingly beautiful and alien place. The ground is a deep chocolate brown to black volcanic sand, and in mid October, the rabbit brush is turning bright yellow as it shifts to autumn, the organ pipe cacti are a dark green and stand, partially concealed in the brush at exactly human height. The air is alive with birds and insects and bats at night. The stargazing is like looking into the eyes of God.

You get there by driving down a little dirt road called "El Camino Del Diablo", or "The Devil's Road".

I drove out about three hours from Glendale, AZ to get there, arriving at sunset, and felt a profound sense of peace. I stargazed, listening to the bats hunt and sing, and slept peacefully for the first time in months.

I stayed out there for three days, sketching and painting the landscape, taking strolls through this almost alien landscape, and enjoying the light and sound and total absence of human intrusion besides myself.

On the fourth night, it was a new moon, and I awoke in the middle of the night. Something was amiss, and it took me a while to realize it was because I could NOT hear the bats. I was sleeping inside the van with the rear windows rolled halfway down rather than trying to set up the tent, so I when I sat up, I looked out of the van's reflective windows to discover what at first appeared to be A Horse.

It was something between pale gray and bright white in the starlight, standing maybe a dozen feet from the van, sniffing curiously. It made sense- I was in the middle of mustang country and there was quite a bit of foliage in the area for it and it did look like a truly wild horse- lumpy where the bones were jutting out, dusty about the hooves and face.

I was instantly seized by the sort of paralytic fear Sleep paralysis is made of. I couldn't move. It wasn't quite looking at me because it couldn't quite see through the windshield into the shadowy into the shadowy interior, but I had the distinct impression that if I looked away, it would know, and get me.

I already had problems with horses. My beloved Aunt Helen's Prize mare tried to kill me on two separate occasions, and the year before I had to carry my sister-in-law backwards out of a slot canyon whilst reciting the Saint Crispin's Day Speech as loudly as possible to keep a mustang from trampling us to death.

This is approximately what it should have looked like:

Instead, it was... off. like trying to draw a horse from memory.

The waist tapered in.

The legs were slightly too long or the torso slightly too short, probably both.

The ears were Triangular.

The head wasn't quite right- Too narrow and the jaw wasn't heavy enough.

The tail was too long and arced unnaturally away from the body.

The neck arched.

The nostrils were too high and close

The mouth too long.

Whatever this is, a Mustang it Ain't.

I watched it from the back seat as it sniffed around the front of the van, curious with about the side mirrors. It moved around the van, nibbling experimentally on the front door handle. It came up to the side windows, sniffing like a dog, and it's breath didn't fog up the glass.

Finally, it came up to the rear window, which was rolled halfway down to let the fall night air in. Not even half a pane of glass and two feet of air between us, and I could clearly see it's bright blue eyes.

Horses have Elongated pupils to give them a wide field of vision, and eyes that rotate sideways in their sockets so the pupil remains parallel to the ground. Rather creepy to watch, especially the ones with blue eyes.

A real horse that was curious about the interior of the van would have come up to the window more or less sideways, and looked at me with something like this:

Instead, the damn thing walked up and faced the back window head on, staring back at me with this:

I'm not sure how long we watched each other like that, eyes locked. My eyes burned. I couldn't blink. My mouth was dry. I couldn't swallow. My throat began to ache. I couldn't make a sound. My skin began to twitch, like I was severely dehydrated. I couldn't move. My lungs burned. I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move.

Something was touching the side of my hand on the seat next to me. It's my water bottle.

The realization must have broken the terrible paralysis in the lower parts of my brain first, because by the time I consciously realized I could move again, I was already flinging my water bottle out the window at it.

The top was open, and splashed out the window at the Mustain't.

I've never heard such a scream out of an animal. Something halfway between the sound of unquenchable rage vibrating in someone's chest and the way rabbits cry out to God when the dogs catch them.

It jumped back, pivoting away from the van, snarling at the water bottle. I don't think you're supposed to be able to see All of a horse's teeth at once, no matter how angry it is.

I watched it run into the night for some distance, it's pale body visible against the black sand and the dark gray shadow of the ancient volcanic cone it was headed for.

When the blood stopped pounding in my ears, I could hear the bats again.

I debated leaving right then, but I didn't want to get out of the van with that thing in the area, nor litter by leaving the water bottle out there. I also had the awful idea that if I left now, it might somehow be able to follow me home. I ended up staying up three hours to watch the sunrise, shaking and trying to figure out if I'd woken up from a vivid dream, if my meds had stopped working, or if that had really happened. I didn't dare move until I actually felt the temperature rise, before stepping out of the van to grab the bottle. I had my camera ready- I was still using a DSLR back then- to take pictures of the hoofprints, to show how close it had gotten to the van.

No hoofprints.

Beetle tracks in the soft sand around the van, and the clear foot-and-wing prints of a bird that had hopped around then taken off. But no hoofprints.

I went over the entire campsite with the tent broom, to make sure I removed every scrap of evidence I had ever been there, including my footprints, grabbed my water bottle, and drove the three hours back back to Glendale, then decided to do seven more hours of driving to Moab, Utah just to put more than 500 miles, the state line and at least nine things that could be considered "running water" between me and the Mustain't.

-

I still have that water bottle. It has a dent in the bottom from hitting something, but that could have happened at any time. Strange thing though. I can't drink that bottle dry. I'll have it on me, drink whatever I've put in there- water, juice, iced coffee- and eventually feel like I've drunk the whole think and that it's empty. But I open it up and it's still at least a quarter full. I drink that. I get thirsty. I open it up again. ...and there's always a mouthful left.

Not sure what the side effects of drinking from a bottle cursed by a Mustain't to always have some left are, but it lives in the Emergency Breakdown Kit in my car now, just in case I meet another one.

---

(I'm a disabled artist and make my living telling stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi or Pre-order the Family Lore book on Patreon)

[fairy-angel222]

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𐙚⋆.˚

The white haired man using his fingers to spread your sticky, cum coated folds while Geto’s fat cock stretched you out. Creamy white spread along his veiny length as he fucked into you nice and slow.

“Look at that. So fuckin’ filthy Suguru. Your cock’s stretching her so wide.” Gojo groaned, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your clit, smirking against your skin when you trembled with a whine.

“She’s real noisy too. Pretty little slut’s taking my cock so well.” Geto grunted, pace speeding up as you moaned and whimpered beneath him. Your back arching with cry when Gojo began to rub quick circles on your clit. Your vision clouding as you sniffled at the overstimulation. “Suguu— hmm fuckk. I c-can’t, ‘m sensitive.”

He’d already made you cum so many times, fucking into you while Gojo whispered into your ear. Driving you over the edge again and again and again.

“Awww. You’re sensitive f’me huh baby?” Geto cooed, thumb wiping a stray tear off your cheek as you nodded shakily. “Hmm ‘s alright darling. You can take it ain’t that right Toru?”

“Of course she can, can’t ya sweetheart?”

“B-but-”

“I said you can take it baby. So you’re gonna take it like a good girl yeah?” Geto husked, his cock twitching as you whimpered with parted lips. Your body being rocked back and forth with each of his hard thrusts.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. ‘S dripping everywhere baby.” Gojo groaned, eyes half lidded when he brought his face closer. Geto’s hand on the back of his head pushing him down into you. “Just give it t’ her already Toru.”

Gojo hummed, immediately getting to work lapping at your sopping pussy. Licking around Geto’s thick cock before swirling your clit into his mouth. Sucking at the sensitive bud with small moans of his own. Chin glistening with your slick as he buried his face as far between your puffy folds as he could.

“So damn sweet.” He grunted, hands spreading your thighs even further for both him and Geto. His tongue never slowing its torture as the other fucked you deep, hips repeating slamming into yours with a loud squelch. The lewd sound mixed with that of Gojo’s greedy tongue fogging both their brains and yours.

Your cries of their names getting louder as your stomach tightened, Gojo’s hard grip on your flesh preventing you from desperately pulling away from the overwhelming pleasure. “I can’t— nngh, ‘s too muchh.”

“Yes you can. Just let go f’us okay? Give us one more ‘kay baby?”

You felt your toes curl, your body beginning to shake as you let out a whiny cry. The stimulation to both your g spot and your clit fogging your mind as your sensitivity intensified. Tears staining your flushed cheeks as yet another orgasm washed over you. This one even more powerful than the last.

“There ya go. That’s our good girl.” Geto grinned, watching as you quivered in their hold as he sloppily fucked himself with your tightness. Slowly coming to a stop to pump you deep n’ full of his cum. Gojo basking in how much wetter you had become.

They both pulled away from you. Matching smirks on their faces as you tried to catch your breath. A small pout on your face when you huffed tiredly, “Meanies.”

[nkogneatho]

HOUSE OF ORGASMS

favorite spot at home where jjk men like to fuck you.

— cw: fem!reader, exhibitionism, praise kink, temperature play, water play, hair fisting, cunningulus, fingering, cum eating, slight degradation, breeding mentioned.

— a/n: thank you beyoncé. take me off your list please.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍

Kitchen is Satoru's favorite place in house. He is a foodie at heart. When he comes home from long, draining missions, the first thing that pulls him in is the aroma of the delicious food.

Satoru never announces when he is home. He likes to surprise you by hugging you from behind, hands locked on your tummy. He nuzzles his face in your neck, taking a whiff of your scent.

“I am home, sugar,” he announced. The vibration of his low voice sent shivers down to your core.

“Toruuu. Don't mess with me when I am cooking,” you purred

“mmh hmm,” he chuckled. “and how am I messing with you, my love?” His hands traveled around your body, enticing it more, and stopped only when they reached to your cunt.

“No panties, huh? Were you expecting this?” He whispered in your ear. Your hands trembled as they stirred the soup.

“Wanted to give you easy access.” A giggle escaped your lips, knowing how easy it is to tease him.

“Then let me make use of it, yeah?”

You turned off the stove before Satoru turned you around, picked you up and placed you on the counter top in the middle. You watched him get on his knees, loosening a few buttons of his shirt. He spread your legs apart, licking his lips at your glistening pussy, inviting him for a taste.

“Thank you for the meal” was the last coherent sentence that was heard from his mouth because he spent the next twenty minutes slurping, slobbering and spitting on your pussy. Even if a few praises managed to escape his mouth, they were caught by your clit the way he was trying to speak while being face deep in you.

You watch him unbuckle his belt with one hand to free his strained cock, his tongue not leaving your pussy for even a second. Fuck. His moans were driving you crazy. Your pretty fingers tightened around the white locks of his hair, and that's how satoru knew you were close. He shoved two digits up your cunt as he teased your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue.

“fuck fuck fuck I'm close. Anh! Anh! Anh! Yes toru fuuuuuuuck” you cried as you came all over his tongue. He licked the remnants of your cum off his lips and asked you to clean off his soaking wet digits. The way you started kitty licking them, holding his wrist and slurping on them, made his cock shoot a load on the fabric of his pants.

He looked at you with a pink face, “shit. Tell me if your curry needs some sauce.” You lightly hit him as he laughs it off.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐘

Toji is a possessive man down to the core. Every so often a little too much. Any man who dares to even spare you an innocent glance looks away in seconds when he finds a 6 feet tall figure burying daggers in his body with just his look.

So when the man next building started interacting with you, toji knew what he had to do. Especially, when it’s really convenient that his window and your balcony were parallel. 

“Tojii  please. Someone will catch us,” you cried.

“Let them. I want them to know who ya belong too.” It was too much. Your legs were losing control. Your limp body pressed against the glass windows with your hair wrapped around toji’s fist, he was rutting against you mercilessly.

He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you against him as he angled deeper into your

“Fuck, you're so delicious, baby. If I could, I would fuck you in front of the whole city so them motherfuckers know to keep their dirty hands off my pretty slut”

He started pounding into you harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the night air as he claimed you with fierce possessiveness. When you tried to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out too loud, toji leaned forward and pulled you into the deepest kiss, making you vulnerable to scream the most desperate moans.

“I hope that pervert’s watching… wishing he could be in my place, splitting you open and making you scream like this.”

He growled low in his throat, the hold on your hips tightening to the point of bruising as he fucked you with ruthless intensity. He felt your pussy clench around his cock, signaling your impending orgasm as you arched your back, your spot craving more for that sweet release.

“Tojitojitojitoji” you cried. You were sure that people saw you two but your brain was so fucked out that you couldn’t care less.

“hmm” he chuckled in amusement. “Looks like lover boy’s watching us, doll. Scream my name more, yeah? Fhhuck-” Your walls clenched around him. You could feel the thick veins as your walls hugged them tightly.

“attagirl. atta.fucking.girl. Just like that baby. Cum f’me”

“tooojiiiii fhuuuuuck” your wails of pleasure echoed through the city.

“I know baby. I know. I’m close too. Keep throwing it back, hmm?”

He threw his head back with a loud groan as he followed you right after your edge, his cock pulsing violently as he filled you with his warm cum.

“Y’er mine… All mine… Never forget it, doll” he sighed in your ears, catching your limped body, trailing kisses all over your back. He definitely had a good sleep that night knowing he would keep his hands off you from tomorrow.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐔𝐁

Suguru is a caretaker at heart. He knows what you need, even when you don't. When you come home, all he wants is to wipe away all your stress.

You walked through the door and the calming scent of lavender lured you in the room.

“Suguru? Suguru, love, I am home.” Amidst of calling him and seeking him with your doe eyes, two large hands appeared on your waist and locked against your stomach.

“Been waiting for you, my love,” Suguru purred in your years with the deepest yet softest voice. “Follow me”

He tugged lightly on your wrist and guided you to the warm bubbly water of the bathtub. The scented lavender candles painted the night with dim yellow. Big hands undressed you, kissing your skin as he pulled each piece of clothing with gentleness. He got in the tub first, then guided you in. The warm water immediately making you feel better. The soft foam enveloped your body as he pulled you against him, your back pressed against his chest.

“Mmm, baby… This is where you belong, wrapped up in my arms” he said as he kissed your bare shoulder blade.

He trailed his fingertips lazily over your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, teasing the sensitive peaks until they hardened against his palms.

“Mhmm, suguru...” you moaned.

“Shhh… Let me take care of you, love. Just tell me what you want, mkay?” You nodded.

He gently pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingers, watching with satisfaction as you arch into his caress.

“I could spend hours just playing with these perfect tits… But there's so much more of you that I need to take care of.” Long fingers started traveling down, feeling the gentle curve of your hips, until they reached the place that was yearning for his touch.

You squirmed when he pinched your clit lightly. “Hmm…sweet little pussy.” He chuckled. “Always so eager for me.”

“Just for you.”

“I know, darling.” He started stroking your folds with his fingers, coating it in your slick, the warm water stimulating your clit more.

He leaned in to capture your mouth in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with yours as he put his hard cock in your pussy with increasing intimacy in the warm, soothing water.

Suguru started rubbing your clit underwater, his cock was tucked inside your walls, not moving an inch. He knew he needed you to relax first. You didn't know if it was the water, the ambience, or the fatigue of the whole day, but you were close, sooner than usual. Suguru could feel your body tightening as you held on his arms tightly.

“Sugu…'m close”

“Let it go, baby. Cum for me.” His command sent you over the edge as you orgasmed, hands holding the edge of the bath tub so tightly.

“Good girl.” He praised as you clashed your erratic body on him, chest heaving.

“Wow. That was…"

“Amazing, right?” He kissed your head.

“Mhmm. Now…how about I ride you in here.” You turned to face him as you suggested.

“But you're tired, baby.” Suguru's worried voice melted you.

“Never for you.” You winked at him as you aligned his cock with your entrance once again. Honestly, Suguru gave you a reason to skip work.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

Being a king throughout 1000 of years, Sukuna has grown a liking to sitting on his throne with his thighs spread out and face resting on one of the hands. So, guess how he fucks you? Like the king that he is.

He sits on the couch with both his arms stretched and resting on it, all while you squirm as you struggle to put just his flushed tip in.

He smirked down at you, eyes gleaming with lust and pride as he watches your expressions.

“Need a hand, woman?”

“Shut up, sukuna. Give me a—ngh a s-second.” You scowled, trying to fit him in.

“Sure. Take all the seconds you want. Also," he leaned in, unresting his back from the couch, “… If you want to run your mouth like that, then better do it after you manage to get it in. It doesn't sound convincing when you stutter like a slut.”

He was clearly pushing your buttons, and you were pushing down your cunt out of fury and frustration. And you managed to get it in, moaning out his name desperately, hands immediately falling on his shoulder to maintain balance.

“Easy. Easy tiger.” His hands supported your back. “Hmm…don't hurt yourself.”

“I-I won't. Lemme ride it, kuna.”

“All yours,” he smiled.

He grasped your hips firmly, guiding you to sink again onto his length in one smooth motion

“Mmm, yeah. Just like that. Take what you need from your king”

He let out a low groan as you begin to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm that had both of you panting with pleasure, only sukuna wouldn't make it obvious on his face. He is too cocky for that.

“Shit. You're so tight.”

He leaned forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he savored the taste of your moans

“That's right, baby. Ride it good. Make those pretty tits bounce.”

He broke the kiss to gaze at you, his hands sliding up to palm your breasts, teasing the stiff nipples between his fingers.

“Look at you, sweetheart. So gorgeous, trying to be in control. I love watching you take what you want.”

He started to thrust up into you, meeting your downward strokes with increasing urgency as your bodies moved together in perfect sync.

“Fuck…kuna. Too deep. Ah!”

“Obviously. Wanna give up?”

You vigorously shook your head. “No…feels good.” He chuckled at you.

He reached beneath you to rub at your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shivers of delight through your body. “Come on, pretty thing. Drench this cock with your juices.” You start moving faster, losing your composure as you chase your high.

“fuck. Ah! Kuna kuna yes! Gonna cum. Anh! Anh! Fuck. Aaaah!" You screamed in pleasure as you came, head rolling back as sukuna's grip on your waist tightened as he shot his load in you.

“Fuck! Agh—shit” his thighs trembled. “Take it Take it. Take it.” He growled as he emptied his balls in you. His forehead crashed on your shoulders.

"Shit. Think you ready for a little brat just like you?"

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊��𝐍𝐓𝐎- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

Nanami is a classic lover. He believes in change, but he also believes that some things should remain the same. Like how he likes to spoil you with flowers and letters, no matter how cliché they are considered. How he reads poetry to you every night. And how he fucks his cock deep in you on the bed in missionary.

Nanami lifted you onto the bed, laying you out on the soft sheets like an offering to be worshiped

“Ah, darling. You look so beautiful like this.”

He kicked off his pants and climbed onto the bed, soaking in the pretty sight of you.

He positioned him between your thighs as he drank in the sight of your glistening pussy. “Mmm, look at that. So wet and ready for me already.” He mumbled. You covered your face with the back of your hand. “Don't get all shy on me now.”

He lined up his throbbing cock with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your sensitive clit to elicit a moan from your lips. “That's it, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you want this.”

He grasped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he slowly sunk into you, relishing the feeling of your tight heat enveloping his hard on inch by delicious inch

“Fuck, baby. Just like always, you feel incredible,” he moaned out.

He started to move, setting a steady, deep rhythm as he claimed you with long, intense strokes.

“Ken…oh my g-god. Feels so good.”

“I know, baby. I love you,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours, “Every inch of you.”

“Love you, too, K-ken—Ah Fuck yes! Right there.”

He seized your mouth in a heated kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans as he continued to pound into you with increasing fervor.

“I love feeling you tense up around me, sweetheart. Fhuuck! Knowing that you're com-completely lost in pleasure, mindless and consumed by the need for more.”

He broke the kiss to gaze into your eyes, his own burning with raw desire as he picks up the pace, driving into you with reckless abandon

“You're mine, sweetheart. Go ahead. Claim me as you cum.”

He continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements, delving deeper to stroke your inner walls with his girthy cock, coaxing you closer to the brink of ecstasy

“I want to hear you, sweetheart. Say my name.”

“Ken! Ken! Yes, Ken! Make me cum. Fuck.”

You reached your high, and you locked your legs tightly around his waist. Your clenching walls sent Nanami over the edge, and he climaxed with a guttural roar, slamming into you one final time as he erupted inside you, painting your insides with wave after wave of his hot release.

“Ah, fuck yeah. So good, sweetheart.” He crashed onto you like a weighted blanket, chest heaving. “Did you feel good?”

“So good. I love you, Ken.”

"I love you more, darling."

[classyrbf]

THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE WOODS! — GETO SUGURU

KINKTOBER WEEK ONE

SYNOPSIS...walking home from a halloween party, you decided to take a shortcut, but an eerie feelings creeps up your spine and it feels like eyes are watching your every move

INFO...stalker!geto x fem!reader, for the sake of the story everything is consensual, a fantasy between geto and reader, stalking, groping, fingering, ripping clothes, sex in the woods, choking, hair pulling, oral (m!receiving), deep throating, rough, name calling, degradation, slapping, spanking, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

kinktober 2024 masterlist

The wind howled in your ears and the moon was illuminating your every step home. You were cold, the costume that you had on was no help, shivering as you hugged yourself tightly. It was a stupid idea to go to a Halloween party without thinking of how you were going to get back home. Everyone was either drunk driving, or their cars were already filled with other passengers, and to put the cherry on top…your phone had died so you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up. You mentally cursed at yourself for staying so late in the first place, it had to be at least three in the morning. Everyone else was asleep and done with their trick or treating activities, lights off at every house in your sight.

“Fuck me,” you sighed, stopping when you came to a fork in the road. You took the left path knowing that it was a shortcut to your house and you didn’t plan on walking any longer than you needed to in these godforsaken heels. The wind brushed against your exposed skin, goosebumps climbing their way up your body. The further you stepped into the forest, darkness began to surround you. The large, twisted branches allowing very few rays of moonlight to shine through. Tall trees hovered over you, casting shadows. You’d be lying if you said this shortcut wasn’t one hundred times creepier at night compared to day.

Leaves rustled in the wind, branched snapped under your feet and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder every five seconds to make sure no one was following you. It felt like eyes were watching your every movement, dark figures in the tree line stalking you like prey, waiting to pounce. “It’s all in your head,” you mumbled to yourself, walking faster. Though, your words were no help. Your eyes darted in every direction, barely paying attention to what was in front of you causing you to trip over a tree root sticking out. You fell to your knees, wincing in pain when you saw little blood droplet stain your stockings. “You gotta be kidding me,” you whined.

As you sat there on the floor trying to regain yourself, you heard a twig snap in the distance. With wide eyes, you got up as quickly as you could and looked around. “Hello?” You called out, your voice echoing through the forest. And just like that, you heard it again. Your feet moved before you could even think and you began to run as fast as you could in the shoes you were wearing. It would be better to take them off but you couldn’t stop now.

Your breathing quickened with each passing second and just a few feet behind you, you could hear footsteps. Fear struck your heart and you could only focus on the clearing up ahead. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if it was some animal, but you weren’t going to stop and check. Something didn’t feel right and that’s all you needed to know to get your ass out of here. The clearing was only so close now and your chest burned from the cold air that filled your lungs. Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears and the pain from your busted knee dissipated from the adrenaline rushing through you.

The streetlights came into view and just before you could make it, you felt a hard tug on your dress, a rough hand pulling you back into the darkness and covering your mouth as you screamed into it, squirming around in his tight grip. Each kick and punch to his body didn’t do a thing and the clearing soon began to grow smaller. “Shh, shh, shh.” His breath tickled your ear. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. He pushed you up against a tree, slowly appearing in your view. You couldn’t quite make out his face, but his tall silhouette, muscular frame, and long dark hair was quite obvious. “Promise me you won’t scream? If you do, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Your entire body was shaking, weak. You had no idea what was going to happen. You didn’t know if he had a weapon, but you didn’t want to find out the hard way. He slowly removed his from your mouth, and let out a chuckle with how hard you were breathing. “Please don’t hurt me,” you sniffled, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt your body was glued to the tree, any sudden movement would make you drop. “What do you want? I don’t have any money…here,” you handed him your phone, “take it, it’s all I have.” More tears streamed down your face.

He looked at your phone with disinterest before looking back up at you. “Don’t you recognize me?” He questioned. You meekly shook your head no. “I guess I did a good job then,” he laughed. “I thought you noticed me but I guess not.” He brushed his hand against your cheek, wiping away your tears. “I was watching you the whole night. Watching you get drunk, dance with your friends, kiss random strangers, and I kept thinking how pretty you were. Ever since you walked in that door.” He gripped your chin tightly, leaning in closely in the crook of your neck.

You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he smelled you. “Please, let me go. I’ll do anything.” You weren’t sure if negotiating with him was going to work, but you were willing to do anything in order to just go home. But, he completely ignored you and continued rubbing up on you. His hands roamed freely, down your stomach and back, up to your tits where he gave them a squeeze. It wasn’t until he moved away from you that you saw some of his features. His chiseled face, and dark, narrow eyes, his slightly tan skin, and plump lips. His hair flowed with the wind, the leaves falling from above.

Within a split second, he pushed his lips onto yours, roughly kissing you, his tongue forcefully pushing inside your mouth. His hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the tree while his other hand reached under your dress to rub your cunt through your stocking and panties. You whimpered into the kiss, pulling away to catch your breath. “These are in the fucking way,” he grunted, ripping your tights with one hand. He pushed your panties to the side, smirking as he ran his finger up and down your slit. A small gasp left his lips when he could feel your juices coat his finger. “You’re wet. This turn you on? Being chased and caught in the woods so some stalker could fuck you?” His slipped his finger inside, watching the way your jaw fell open.

“You’re just as sick as I imagined,” he let out a deep chuckle, curling his finger inside of you before adding another. He still had you pinned against the tree with your legs spread, your dress bunched up at your waist while he thrusted his long, thick fingers inside of you. “You’re sucking my fingers right in.” A smirk formed at the corner of his lips, your pussy squelching the faster he went, your juices dripping down his fingers.

A small whine escaped your throat looking at the man in front of you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared or turned on. Maybe you were both. Was it wise to entertain this? That question ran through your head over and over. He leaned back towards your lips, hungry for another kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. Without thinking, your arms wrapped around him as your legs grew weak, nearly falling from how good his fingers felt inside of you.

His dick strains against his slacks, damn near painful from how hard he was. “Get on the fucking floor.” He slips his fingers out from inside you, pushing you down to your knees and against the tree. You look up at him confused before he sticks his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself on your fingers. He’s quick to undo his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widen as his dick springs out, swollen red tip, and pulsating veins on either side of his shaft. Precum drips from the tip and he smears it over his cock, slowly jerking himself off to the sight of you sucking his fingers.

“Stick out that tongue for me, baby. Open up.” He removes his fingers from your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair before he slaps his heavy dick on your tongue. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs. He rubs his dick all over your face, slapping you with in, pushing it between your lips. He grips your hair tighter, pushing your head down onto his cock. “Fuckkkk,” he moans as feels your warm tongue rub along his shaft and your throat squeeze around him. You immediately gag as he goes further, eyes watering before you gag again, your nose touching his pelvis. “Stay just like that, don’t you fucking move.” He holds your head down for a few seconds before he lets go, allowing you to breathe.

You gasp for air, letting out dry coughs as he laughs at you. Strings of spit connect from your mouth to his dick, dripping down to his balls. His hand grips your hair again and you let out a pained whimper. “First time taking dick down your throat, huh?” He mocks you, stilling laughing in your face. You stare up at him with tearful eyes, wiping your mouth of all the spit. But before you could blink, a sharp pain spreads across your cheek, your head jolting to the other side. Did he just slap you? “Did I say you could wipe your mouth? No, no I don’t think I did. I like it messy, so get used it.” With force, he shoves his dick back in your throat.

You throat closes in around him again, gagging. Tears stream down your face as he fucks your mouth. Glug glug glug glug. You place your hands on his thighs in attempt to get him to slow down but he just goes harder, the back of head pushed against the tree and trapped between his thighs. He pushes your nose against his pelvis once more, spit dripping down your chin and from his balls. “Ugh, fuck! This throat feels so good!” His abs tense up and your eyes roll into the back of your head before he removes himself from your throat.

You’re coughing again, chest heaving up and down while you sit there on your knees trying to catch your breath. “Please, I can’t, my throat hurts.” Your brows furrow.

He grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Someone’s gotta teach you how to suck dick properly, baby. I don’t give a fuck if your throat hurts,” he harshly says. He slaps his dick against your face, smearing your spit all over. “Come on, impress me.” He stares down at you with those dark eyes. You’re quick to understand that he wants you to suck his dick yourself. “Remember, I like it messy.”

Both hands wrap around his cock, jerking him off as you move your wrist in a circular motion, taking the rest of him in your mouth. Your tongue swirling around his head, gathering as much spit as you could. You look up at him, taking him slightly further down your throat before coming back up. “That’s it, keep those eyes on me. Don’t you dare fucking look away.” He grits his teeth, eyes rolling back when you bob your head up and down his shaft. Your jaw grows tired, pulling away to give yourself a break, your hands still gripping his length.

Streaks of mascara stain your cheeks, your lip stick smeared across your lips. He reaches down to pet your face, admiring the view. He can see that your scared, but he can also tell that you’re enjoying this. It only makes him want to get your blood pumping more. “Make me fucking cum. Put it back in your mouth.” He places his hand on the back of your head, pushing it down, your throat accommodating to his size. “You’re such a quick learner. Taking it like a fucking whore.” He bites down on his bottom lip, thrusting his hips at a sharp pace. “Open up that throat. Come on,” he growls.

You body jolts forward as you gag, your nails digging into his thighs as he pushes your nose against his pelvis. You can feel him twitch and pulsate in your throat and before you know it hot spurts of cum coat your throat. “Uh huh, fuck, fuck. Take it, baby. Mmmph!” His jaw goes slack, holding your head down until your slapping his thighs to breathe. Luckily, he lets you pull away after he drains all of his cum. You barely have time to recover before he’s snatching you back to your feet, spinning you around and pushing you against the tree. “Did such a good job sucking my dick. I wanna know if this pussy can do the same.” A swift slap to your ass makes you whimper, holding onto the tree for support while it scratches at your skin.

“Go slow, please,” you beg. You wish you would’ve never said anything because your words only added fuel to the fire. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone and slipping him that piece of information made him do the opposite of what you asked for.

“Go slow? Huh? No, no.” His hand snaked around your throat, pulling your back against his chest while he whispered in your ear. “I’ll do what I want with you.” He smacked your ass again, tearing off your panties and tossing them somewhere into the woods. “Say you want me to fuck you,” he ordered. You silently stood there in his arms, biting down on your bottom lip as you braced for whatever he was going to give you. “Say it!” He huskily whispered, rubbing his shaft up and down your sopping slit.

“Fuck me,” you meekly spoke.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He kissed your jaw so softly, his other hand reaching down to toy with your puffy clit. He let out a blissful sigh as your moans, continuing to rub it in circles in such a teasing manner. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, please,” you said a little louder this time. “Ah!” A yelp left your lips when he slipped inside, pushing his entire length in, the burning stretch making you wince. “Oh fuck!” You whined. His thrusts were brutal, his cock reaching your deepest points. His arm wrapped your torso, holding you up while simultaneously pulling you back on his cock. The sudden sensation of him inside you became so overwhelming, you couldn’t help but squirm in his grip.

The sound of skin to skin echoed through the woods and your lewd moans along with it. Ripples of pleasure shot through every part of your body. Your hands reached out for the tree, finding stability to hold yourself up. His breath shuddered against your neck, desperate moans and grunts filling your ears. “You’re so fucking wet—nnngh fuck!” He growled. His fat tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, tears pricking your eyes before spilling over. Suddenly, he slowed down his thrusts, going harder and slower, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch.

“Ah!” You squealed when he slammed his hips against yours, only to slowly pull back out again. Each hard jolt of his hips sent your body forward, your knees already ready to give out. “Ah!” You screamed in pleasure, reaching down to grip onto his forearm.

His hand shot over your mouth, muffling your cries and moans. “Go ahead and scream, baby. You think someone is gonna hear you? It’s just me…and…you.” Each of his words were punctuated with hard thrusts. You moaned into his hand, your eyes screwed shut. He could feel you clench around him, letting out a blissful sigh. He pressed against you, going as deep as he could and stayed there. A sharp gasp escaped your throat, eyes widening as you tried to move your hips. “You’re mine now,” he breathily whispered.

“Mmph! Mmmph!” As he began pounding into you again your eyes rolled back, feeling him in the deepest parts of you. “Please, please, please,” you cried, voice breaking through your tears. Your mind grew hazy, too clouded to even think clearly. His thrusts were so sharp, so animalistic. He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing it in his direction before planting a hungry, sloppy kiss on your lips. Both of swallowed each others lewd moans, gasping for air between wet kisses.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He rasped, staring into your eyes. All you could force was a nod. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over your stalkers dick, baby? Do it. Give it to me. Show me how dirty you are.” He pressed deeper, your entire body trembling. The feeling your pussy pulsating around him only fueled him to go faster, his grip on your entire body tightening while you came. “That it’s—f-fuck!” His voice trembled.

Your entire body quivered with pleasure, high pitched whines spilling from your lips, barely able to form proper words. His brutal pace sent your mind into a spiral. Each greedy stroke sent him closer to the edge, his thrust growing sloppier and his thoughts growing dirtier, thinking of filling you up with his cum and watching it leak out of you. “Oh my god! S-slow down! Gonna cu—nnngh!” Before you could even say it, you were already cumming a second time, your orgasm ripping through your entire body and sucking the air of your lungs.

“Yes, yes! Cum on my dick. You’re gonna make me cum, baby. Fuck your self on my dick. Work for it.” He pushed your weak body against the tree, his chest rising and falling as you so desperately fucked him, throwing your ass back. He looked down, watching the way he disappeared inside your messy cunt, creaming around him and sucking him in. You circled your hips, moving back and forth, feeling your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Fucking work for it.” His hand swatted your ass several times, the stinging sensation that lingered on your skin making you whimper. “Atta girl. Right fucking there…shit, baby. Just like that, just like that,” he whined, reaching down to squeeze the plump flesh.

Low guttural groans collided with your moans, echoing through the lonely forest. He was so close to cumming, you could tell. His big strong hands took ahold of your hips as he pushed himself all the way inside of you. “Ah…oh fuck…mmph—s-shit!” He shuddered, hot spurts of cum painting your walls. You pushed back into him, biting down on your bottom lip, not wanting one last drop to go to waste. After several seconds, he slowly pulled out, trying to catch his breath. He forcefully grabbed you, standing you upright even though your entire body was shaking.

After coming down from your high, you realized you just fucked your stalker and let him cum inside you. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. Both of you stared at each other, eyes searching deep within. You were left confused, speechless. You flinched when he brought his hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb. His eyes flickered down to your lips, placing the most gentle kiss on them—the most gentle one since you’ve met him. Yet, you found yourself kissing him back. “Who are you?” Your voice broke the silence, nervously scanning his features.

His lips quirked up into the slightest smirk. “Just the boy who saw you at the Halloween party.” From the very beginning he was never going to give you his name. “Your stalker.” He seemed to take pride in his words, now smiling at you.

You gulped, blinking up at him. “My stalker.”

taglist (closed):

@roronoaslover @skychapt-blog @prettylil-teine @freakadelick @adamaisfav @tadabzzzbee @ourfinalisation @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @heliumshorns @ninani-nanina @blankwashed @sadkaomoji @tojis-ball-sack @blkpotionss @sunjayist @cryptxdslxt @aweebthatsjustthere @angelrulez21-blog @lemonintrovert21 @vertigoandvirtues @cloudxluv @kkataleena @eclipsi-shadow @sugusmonkeyy @greatwizardangel @cybersomn1a @screamlast9 @purpleheart835 @ramiiroll @purp1eha1o @veraiku @yu22tas @wrldtups @4evrglow @sugarsticksss @fos-tis-zois @lisvanrouge @asiancupid @bluejayreadsanddreams @sincerelyaixii @digitaltrippers @chuuminn @lolimmafuckings1mp @jellyfishlord @therealest06 @terminosdevozsauve @keanureevessmile @nekoxvi @starlightglimmersworld @m0nsterzl0ve

[konigsblog]

Car sex with mean, older-boyfriend!König. (🌽 link)

König wouldn't even think about allowing you to leave his watchful and protective sight without pumping you full of his thick, hot semen first. He doesn't want anyone to have you while he's gone and you're tipsy and easily manipulated, to take his sweet and precious girlfriend. He drives his thick, well-built hips directly into your rear repetitively, plunging his fat and girthy boner deep into your slick, sticky hole on repeat while grunting hoarsely beside your ear, all while you moan out König's name between shaky breathing and pleased whines.

He growls out at the mesmerising and addictive sight of you like this; your plush and soft thighs pried wide open by König's bare hands, your legs wrapped around his broad waist, and your dress rolled up, giving him access to all of your tight holes. Your waterline brims with tears and your vision quickly becomes foggy and blurry. You can practically feel König deep within your stomach, and your attempt at holding back your tears becomes a struggle with him stretching your tight cunt out like this. Your velvety, smooth walls pulse and throb around his sweaty, filthy dick while he presses his creamy cockhead into your warm cervix, hitting places you've never felt before. König is fully aware that he's fucking you into stupidity with each thrust, as you babble and mumble out a string of pleas, begging for your sweet and desperate orgasm as you feel yourself inching closer and closer to that sweet release.

“That’s it, keep going, Mein Herz... Du gehörst mir.” He grumbles out between strained groans, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your soft figure. To say that König is overprotective of you is a massive understatement. He's fully aware and concerned of the attractive, younger men out there that could easily take his place. Your body jerks and twitches uncontrollably, your fingers grasping at your surroundings as you feel König's sensitive, thick tip slam into you one last time, shooting hot and milky ropes of his sticky arousal deep within your gummy walls, dragging an orgasm out of you in the process.

You leave that car with globs of König's cum wandering down your thigh and a tender, loving kiss pressed on his flushed cheek and soft lips. At least everybody will know not to touch you with another man's cum staining and coating your panties.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Car sex)

Car sex isn’t something for König, or at least that’s what he thought before he met you. He’s huge, those long legs doesn’t even fit into the driving seat without bumping his knees, and he always has to be extra careful when shifting his body, so he won’t hit his head on the roof. Squeezing into his car is already a hard task for him, let alone trying to fuck someone within it.

You changed his mind, though. Always wearing those short skirts that barely cover your pretty ass, with a thong—or even without any underwear if you feel extra naughty that day— sparing you both from the trouble to take off your clothes in the cramped vehicle.

Just like tonight, your white skirt rides up to your hips, the exquisite pink thong he bought for you nudged aside as you sit on his lap,

“Scheiß, keep going, Süße, just like that, keep bouncing on my cock…” König’s panting heavily as he encouraging you to continue. He has lowered the seat, letting it lean back so he can give you more space to do your work. He loves the view, looking up at you fucking yourself on his fat dick, tits bouncing with every movements while you slam your ass down, taking his cock so well, and from this angle, he’s able to see how your perfect cunt wrapped around him, juices coating his cock, covering its every inches and veins as the fat tip of his emerges and disappears into it repeatedly.

“Want to come, baby, can’t last long.” Bracing yourself with both hands on his chest, you look down to meet his deep blue eyes, picking up the pace after he gets too excited from seeing the desires in your glossy eyes and rock his hips upwards into you briefly. You can’t help the moans and whimpers slipping out of your lips, not when his cock rutting into you and the veins glide against the g spots and all during its way.

“Come for me, liebe, come for me…” His hands now rest on your hips, pinning you on his cock when you nod and scream out his name in pleasure, and coaxing his own orgasm out with your warm cunt clenching down in release.

“Let’s go home?” You lift your head up from his chest and suggest, while you still pout without you even noticing when he pulls out, already missing how well it stretched you just minutes ago although he just ended up with a load inside you.

“Ja, let’s go home.” He tugs at your thong, staining with obvious white cum standing out from the pink fabric, let it cover up that swollen clit and puffy lips again and give it a pat.

A huff of laughter escaping his throat when König sets you back on the passenger seat, he can tell you’re still needy from the little pout of your plump lips. Don’t worry, Engel, he still got the whole night for you, and as an appreciation for your hard work, he’ll bend you over all your favorite places in home, fuck you nicely with his monstrous cock till you squirt and drenching him in your juices.

[rs-hawk]

Going INSANE thinking about this post by @curiousmons :

So here we go!!

Your Centaur Boyfriend being embarrassed when he explains he’s never cum before because he can’t reach “down there”. You’re stunned and ask why he hasn’t told you before. You tell him you’d have at least given him a handjob before now so he could get some release! He sheepishly tells you that he almost didn’t tell you at all because he’s worried he won’t last long and he doesn’t want to disappoint you.

After a soft heart to heart session, you explain that even if he doesn’t last long, at least you’ll be doing it together so it’ll be wonderful. The kissing starts off slow and soft with him stooping down and you on your tiptoes. Then him pulling off your shirt, and you eagerly finishing undressing yourself when he hesitates. He eases you onto your back on the soft (but itchy, not that you’d tell him) hay he made into a bed for you. His front legs are tucked under him as he goes back to kissing you, pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly.

Despite never having been with anyone before, he knows that his massive cock would hurt you if you’re not prepped, which is another reason you two had waited for so long. Now you could easily take his fingers, and you were already soaking wet for him. His cock is so hard that he’s already leaking precum and it’s almost painful. He wants to be inside of you so badly.

“Please,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to look up at him.

He bites his lip before nodding slightly. He stands back up and you adjust, pushing yourself into doggy style so it’s easier for him to push into you. You have to help guide him a bit since you have to be so far under him, but as soon as the tip of his cock is pushed inside of you, he starts going crazy.

He jerks his hips towards you, nearly impaling you with his massive cock in one thrust. You yelp, not expecting that sudden and deep of a movement, but you don’t pull away.

“I’m sorry baby. You feel so good. I’m sorry,” he groans as he continues to slam in and out of you, driving you into the floor.

His cock slams deep inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way. He bullies your cervix in a way you never thought possible, his hot and slick precum already coating your womb. You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. When you start to squirm, he uses his front hooves to keep you in place, setting them lightly on you, of course not his full weight, just so he can continue to cram himself into you.

Once he’s close, his thrusting becomes more sporadic. He thrusts roughly and sloppily, almost pulling out in his haste to push back inside of you. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, every thick inch of that cock stretching you out even more as he already was.

“You’re so good baby. So tight. So wet,” he whines, picking up the pace even more.

“Keep going,” is all you can manage to get out between the rough assaults on your body.

He complies until he crams himself as deeply as he can inside of you, pumping you full of hot, thick ropes of cum. You can feel it filling you, extending your stomach and spilling out onto your thighs and the floor under you even as he’s still deep inside of you.

His front legs tremble before he buckles them, pulling them off of you so he can support himself on them. You can hear his deep breathing and panting as he recovers, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

“That was amazing baby,” you sigh, almost dreamily, before you try to wiggle out from under him.

However, he’s already rutting into you, grinding his hips against yours with his cock still buried inside of you. “Just one more baby. Please please let me do it just one more time.”

[joelsgoldrush]

“crawl home to her” | 7.5k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.

A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3

Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.

He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.

One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.

Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind. 

Where the hell are you?

He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.

His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.

But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.

We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.

Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.

Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.

He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.

All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.

He wants to talk to you.

You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—

Okay, he’ll get back to that later. 

You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?

Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.

Logan: Got it.

The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.

Priorities.

A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.

With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.

How kind of him to still be this considerate.

His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).

One, two, three rings, and then—

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.

He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.

Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.

You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”

You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”

“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”

“They’re really taking their time, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”

“Great! I’m already in bed.”

“My bed.”

You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”

If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.

Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.

But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.

“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.

“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”

Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”

“A friend.”

“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words. 

And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?” 

You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out. 

The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?

Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?

In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.

He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.

“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”

“Yes, Logan.”

“Please, remember it’s only—”

“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”

A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.

“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”

“Good memory you have.”

“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”

 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.

“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”

He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.

“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”

A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.

Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”

“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”

He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.

What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.

“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”

Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”

“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”

Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”

“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.

Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.

He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”

Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”

He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”

His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”

Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”

My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.

Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.

You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.

Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.

Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture. 

“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”

And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.

Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.

He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.

Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.

Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.

So phone sex is off the list now. Great.

“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.

The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.

Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.

Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.

At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”

One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.

“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?

So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.

Exhaustion clings to him again.

His luck has never been this good.

The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.

Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!

What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?

He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.

Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.

Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.

Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?

How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?

He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.

He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them. 

Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.

Some things never change.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.

Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.

When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.

His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.

Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable. 

Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.

It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.

He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position. 

A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.

It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.

The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.

His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.

Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.

Welcome home, Logan.

For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.

Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.

Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.

You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.

Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.

“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”

“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”

Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?

Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.

You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”

“I should shower first.”

“No.”

“Baby, I smell like gas.”

“So?”

A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.

Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.

Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.

You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”

How the roles have reversed.

In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.

3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.

Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.

He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.

His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.

When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“But what is—”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.

“Wow.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.

Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.

“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”

“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”

Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.

You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.

He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.

This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.

“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”

With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”

Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”

“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”

His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.

“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”

There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”

He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.

As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.

His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.

Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.

“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”

You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.

Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.

He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.

The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.

With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.

When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.

At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.

Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.

Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.

From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”

He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.

His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.

“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”

“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”

You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.

He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.

For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.

Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes. 

“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”

“Logan—”

“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”

Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.

He’s home.

“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”

“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.

Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”

You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.

The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.

“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”

Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”

Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.

The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.

Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.

He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.

He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.

So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?

Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know. 

For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.

And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.

He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.

“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”

The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.

His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.

The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.

You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.

Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell.  It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.

He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more.  He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.

Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.

You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.

Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.

Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.

It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.

“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”

“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”

Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.

“You still deserve to hear it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration. 

“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”

You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.

“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.

He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”

“You don’t need them yet.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”

“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.

And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[tender-rosiey]

Your husband, sukuna AU, is driving me crazy. That's like my 1st time ever experiencing what a comfort fic was. I have been re-reading them like crazy 😭

If it's okay with you, can you do a husband sukuna AU but with whatever scene you want? I really love the way you write him,,, it's just so perfect 🥹

dry your tears — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i am so glad you like them omg srsly you're too kind <33 i really hope you like this too 🥹🫶🫶

“my lord, her highness requests your presence in the garden.”

said man’s eyes open slowly, and he narrows them at the servant who instantly kneels to the ground. he scoffs, “requests? she sure has become impudent.”

the servant trembles, “that’s how she worded it, my lord. I swear I have no role in it.”

“I didn’t speak to you,” sukuna replies as he gets up as places his foot on the servant’s head, pressing into the ground a bit more.

the servant whimpers but tries to be as quiet as possible.

sukuna warns, “and you’re to address her as ‘her highness’ or ‘the queen’ only. do you understand?”

“but—but I did?” he splutters.

“ ’that’s how ‘she’ worded it?’ ” sukuna sneers.

“I didn’t mean it that way! I am sorry! I am sorry! my apologies, my lord!” the servants chokes out, and sukuna takes it as the cue to kick him out of his way.

he starts walking towards the garden, while stretching and examining his surroundings.

the palace hasn’t changed in the time he was gone which was good. at least the human servants are capable of doing one thing right.

the gates to the garden open, and they reveal you.

deep down, the sight brings a bit content to sukuna’s heart, seeing you alive and well. however, that is a vulnerability that he would never admit, so he gets closer to you.

you’re giving him your back despite, definitely, feeling his presence.

he groans, “what do you want?”

“where have you been?” you reply with the same tone.

he rolls his eyes, arms folded on his chest, “fighting, obviously. I was passing time.”

he hears you take a deep breath before you speak up, “and you couldn’t tell me in advance?”

he can tell that you’re trying to sound calm and collected. yet, he still can’t pinpoint whether you’re angry or sad. either way, he believes that your attitude is unacceptable.

he chides, “don’t blow it out of proportion, and you have the nerve to ‘request my—"

“you have been gone for a month.”

the edges of sukuna’s lips quirk up just a little as he starts to understand why you’re acting like this.

“not the first time,” he hums.

he sees your shoulders raise slightly, and they seem to get tenser by the second. you speak lowly, “but you usually tell me before you depart.”

he closes his eyes in annoyance.

this looks like it will drag out longer than he prefers. what he expected when he returned was him spending time with you, his wife, not you giving him your back and seemingly lecturing him.

“stop beating around the bush,” he commands, “what’s wrong with you?”

you grip your kimono tightly in your fist and squeeze your eyes shut as you exclaim, “you had me worried sick!” your voice is watery and is shaky, but you couldn’t help it.

you had spent the past month alone, nobody knew of sukuna’s whereabouts not even uraume. were you supposed to just calmly wait for his return?

he may be strong, but is it always guaranteed? especially considering how the sorcerers are always planning a way to lead him to his demise.

you bite your lip as you hold back a sob. meanwhile, your husband quirks a brow, “you crying?”

you open your eyes and stand up abruptly, “no, I am not!”

throwing the hood over your head, you turn towards the other entrance and announce, “I am going inside!”

you start your march with determination, but as you get close to the gate, you hear your husband sigh and stop you by the arm. he pulls you towards him, tearing off the hood to take a good look at you.

your tears are not plentiful, but he can see their traces.

you frown and try to pull back, “let go, sukuna!”

he raises a hand to cup your cheek and squishes your cheeks like a pufferfish. your eyes widen, and you furrow your eyebrows in frustration.

“stop this,” you shoot.

he looks silently at you for a few moments, and it starts making you nervous. you finally decide to ask, but then he starts wiping your tears.

you blink in confusion as he lightly scolds you, “foolish girl.”

you register the insult after a few seconds, and it makes you frown and look away while grumbling, “shut up.”

you sniffle lightly and pull away from him. he looks down at you, silently watching you. you try ignoring his gaze, but then you just snap your head at him and huff, “what are you staring for?”

you study his face for bit then falter, “if it’s about yelling at you then I am sorry, okay? I was frustrated and—”

he pinches your nose, making you yelp.

“your worrying is unnecessary,” he says slowly, “I will always come back.”

sukuna, you realize, is comforting you. he lays a hand on top of your head and commands you, albeit gently, “so stop crying.”

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