#tw: n*sfw

[yanderestarangel]

♡˚₊‧⁺˖ headcanons arcane — sevika x reader

— tw: soft!dom sevika, fluff, wife sevika, soft sex, praise kink, biting kink, hexstrap, fingering, dirty talk, marriage, mommykink, oral fixation, afab reader, eat out, dp, vibrators, breedkink, smut, anal, sub!reader, no pronouns used.

♡⁠┊Sevika is a caring companion, and even though her behavior is different when she is Silco's henchwoman, she has a soft spot for you and the life you two have built together. It wasn’t easy for her to accept her feelings for you. In the beginning, you two were just friends with benefits, and Sevika only enjoyed the sex you had. She would get bored and think. "At least I don't have to pay for someone else at the brothel." She knew it was a horrible thought and was ashamed of having such a selfish mentality. This would be a secret she would keep forever and take to the grave—she would never hurt you by admitting what she thought before developing feelings.

♡⁠┊ As time went on, she gave in to the feelings that persistently warmed her heart and soul. Your smile was the first thing to make her blush—and she hadn’t even thought that was possible. She had always been so controlled and objective that it genuinely shocked her to feel the overwhelming need to have you by her side 24/7. Soon, the word "passion" echoed through her mind like a haunting melody. She found you more addictive than the nicotine that coursed through the cigarettes she smoked.

♡⁠┊Before long, what started as "friends with benefits" naturally evolved into "lovers."

♡⁠┊There was a Sevika before you and a Sevika after you. She had never been the kind of woman who worried about getting home or keeping track of dates. Her life revolved around late nights in the casino’s accounting department, playing poker, grabbing meals from nearby vendors, and caring little about commitments that didn’t involve Silco.

♡⁠┊But after you came into her life, she started making an effort to be an acceptable girlfriend. At first, the change in routine felt strange to her. The loud music she once thrived on was replaced by soft conversations with you about each other's day, accompanied by chaste smiles. She even found herself helping you in the kitchen—passing ingredients and stealing glances at you, looking so adorably domestic to her. Adorable as hell, she’d think, trying to hide the silly smile that crept onto her lips as you continued chatting about your day while she was at work.

♡⁠┊Everyone noticed how much the "big mama" had changed. She was still the tough, no-nonsense woman everyone knew, but there was a new spark to her—a contentment, as if she were finally 100% happy with herself. She began taking better care of herself, and though she wouldn’t admit it outright, she loved when you noticed the little changes she made. A new hairstyle, a fresh haircut, a different lipstick or gloss, or even a change in the eyeshadow she wore—your compliments made her day. "Do you like it? Thank you... I decided to look prettier for you, baby." she’d say with a soft smile, handing you a bouquet of your favorite roses before pulling you into a tight hug. She’d carry you inside, ready to spend hours talking with you, only for the evening to melt into passionate kisses on the couch.

♡⁠┊Sevika expresses her love through acts of service and heartfelt compliments. She’ll do anything to make you comfortable. Though she never imagined sharing her home with anyone, she started taking better care of the space for your sake. When you can’t handle the household chores, she steps in without hesitation—bringing you breakfast in bed and lingering for a moment to make sure you’re okay—"Let me know if you need anything; I’ll come running." she says protective, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead and giving you one last look before leaving the house. Her presence is felt throughout the streets in her actions and reputation, but no matter where she goes, her mind always drifts back to you.

♡⁠┊The marriage proposal came naturally to Sevika. You two had been living together for a while, and she knew without a doubt that you were her great love. At forty, she had no patience for games anymore—it was all or nothing. You were lying in bed when the moment came. "We've been together for a while, right? How about we make things official? Me, you, a nice wedding..." she began, her words a little hesitant as she reached into the drawer with her mechanical arm, pulling out a beautiful red velvet box. She opened it quickly, revealing two rose gold rings. She had carefully chosen a design that suited both of you, seeking help to find the perfect pair. In the end, the cost didn’t matter—it was worth every penny. "You know I love you more than anything. Will you marry me, angel face?" Sevika finally asked, her voice filled with sincerity as she held the ring engraved with her name and gently slipped it onto your finger. It was a simple proposal, shared in the intimacy of your bedroom on an ordinary weekday. Yet, for Sevika, it became an extraordinary moment—a day that would forever hold a sweet place in her heart, the day you said yes and accepted her as your wife.

♡⁠┊Your wedding was simple, just as Sevika had suggested. Money was tight, so she proposed a civil ceremony at the registry office, followed by a quiet picnic in the park where you could spend the day together. She wore a black suit, sharp yet understated, and happily let you make flower crowns for both of you to wear. Lying with her head resting on your thighs, she spoke softly about your future plans, weaving dreams of the life you’d build together. She promised that once your financial situation improved, she’d throw you a grand ceremony—regardless of whether you told her it wasn’t necessary.

♡⁠┊ "Don’t talk nonsense, sweetie. Just wait until I have some good money, okay? Mama's here will give you everything you deserve. Those weddings for rich people are really expensive." she’d say with determination, her voice firm yet tender. As you played with her hair, she smoked leisurely, her gaze alternating between the sky and you. "Just wait for the money to come in, okay? I promise things will get better for us, one day..." she murmured, exhaling smoke through her nose. Sevika didn’t know exactly when things would change for the better, but she held tightly to hope and faith. Until then, she gave you all the love and support she had, pure and unwavering. For her, it wasn’t about the money—it was about showing you, in every way she could, just how much you meant to her.

♡⁠┊And this romanticism transforms into touches of heat on your honeymoon. Sevika adores you as if you were a deity, laying you down on the bed and kissing every inch of your skin. She gently removes the clothes you wore at the wedding, whispering sweet words that send shivers through both of you: "I've waited so long for this, honey... I love you so much it hurts." She kisses your belly, trailing down to your intimacy, leaving soft kisses over your still-clothed pussy. Pushing aside the already damp fabric, she presses her nose against your clit.

♡⁠┊"I will always adore you. You are my world, my most precious thing in this life..." Her green eyes shine as they meet yours, and she carefully removes your panties, returning to kiss the inside of your thighs. Finally, her full lips meet your cunt, a hoarse grunt escaping her as she closes her eyes, savoring your taste. It doesn’t take long for her to lose herself in you, a comfortable heat blooming within her as you pull her hair and rub your hips against her face. Both of her hands hold you firmly in place while the older woman pushes her tongue into your hole, fucking you slowly and savoring every moment of your essence.

♡⁠┊She would slide two fingers inside you, making you feel every inch as they filled and caressed your spongy walls, drawing you tighter around her touch. "Do you want a third finger, darling? Are you that needy, huh? You're making me so proud... Taking me so well." she whispers with a teasing grin. When she adds a third finger, the sensation is overwhelming—you've never felt so full in your entire life. Her tongue lavishes attention on every inch of your bundle of nerves, her lips and tongue working in harmony to send waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your wife becomes utterly pussy drunk, grunting in excitement as she urges you to give her more of your juices, moaning for you like it’s her greatest pleasure. She doesn’t stop until she makes you squirt, her relentless mouth and fingers ensuring her face is soaked. "Fuck... Holy hell, my angel. You should see your face right now, you know?" she murmurs with satisfaction, wiping some of your wetness from her face with the back of her hand. Her fingers drip with your essence, the sight so erotic it leaves her wet and desperate to make you cum over and over, determined to keep you crying out for her all night long.

♡⁠┊She quickly searches for the strap-on she bought especially for that night—one designed with two attachments for double penetration. The second dildo was crafted for anal play, a vibrating device made of the same material as her mechanical arm. Sevika chose this because she didn’t want to use her arm directly on you, knowing its hard, metallic structure might hurt you. Instead, she always finds creative ways to surprise you, just like tonight.

Carefully, she prepares your body. Her skilled fingers, warm tongue, and plenty of lubricant ensure that both your holes are ready for her. Once you’re comfortable, she lines up the dual-function strap-on, slowly impaling you with precision and care. Her hips move in tandem with the vibrations from the anal dildo, creating an overwhelming wave of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

"Shit, baby, look at this—wet as fuck... You're so greedy, always asking for more. My fuck toy holes are never satisfied, huh?" she teases, her voice low and dripping with desire. She slides two fingers into your mouth, coaxing you to suck on them while she fucks you slowly, savoring every moment. Sevika holds back her own orgasm, her pussy aching and dripping between her muscular thighs as she watches you, beautifully open and writhing for her. Her restraint only heightens her desire, every movement and sound you make driving her wild as she focuses on bringing you to heights of unimaginable ecstasy.

♡⁠┊Sevika activated the function to release a hot liquid from the strap-on, similar to semen. It was a type of hot, translucent lubricant designed to stimulate you and feed her fantasies of shaping your body. "That's it... love, I want to get pregnant so much, you know? You're going to look so beautiful full of my cock. Moan for mommy, moan loudly." she moaned hoarsely, biting your shoulder and making you bite hers too. It was a fair exchange; you would mark her, and she would do the same. She slapped you hard on the ass, moving her hips back and forth quickly while holding your neck and joining your lips in a kiss that mixed your moans. Her breasts pressed against yours, making both your nipples hard as she went harder, finally making you squeeze the silicone cock as the hot artificial liquid rewarded you, leaking from your holes and leaving you dizzy with the specially made substance. "I love you so much... you are mine forever..." Sevika gasped, resting her head on your breasts, kissing the soft flesh and biting gently as she pulled out of you.

♡⁠┊After the mess, she will clean you up and give you a bath, along with herself, not letting you fall due to your legs being weak from the orgasm. She dresses you in one of her loose blouses and puts clean sheets on the bed, placing you to lie in her strong arms, giving you a kiss on the forehead, sighing, also tired, but satisfied. "Go to sleep, so when you wake up, I'll still be here to enjoy our honeymoon." Sevika promises, calming you down as she waits for you to fall asleep so she can rest peacefully. It was a small new beginning among so many others, but she swore to herself to always make you happy, and the moon was the witness to that, bathing the two of you in silver on that night of peace and love—everything you needed, everything she needed, and now, there was you."

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[merakiui]

never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.

yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.

An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.

It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.

But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.

Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.

Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.

Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.

The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.

Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.

You can be loved.

Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.

Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.

Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?

Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.

He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.

But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.

Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.

Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.

Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.

Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.

Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.

A mother.

You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.

Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.

There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.

He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.

The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.

“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”

He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.

These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.

Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.

Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.

Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.

Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.

In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.

He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.

Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.

At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.

He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.

You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.

Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.

“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”

Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.

Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.

He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.

He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.

This is love.

Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.

You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.

He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.

You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.

A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 

Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.

Oh, he came inside.

Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.

An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.

This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.

[seoulbye]

A MINOR INFRACTION | TOJI FUSHIGURO

syn. you'd do anything not to get a speeding ticket. | 3.0k words ( minors, ageless, and blank blogs: do not interact. )

── police officer!toji fushiguro & fem-bodied!reader, pwp, power imbalance, a nasty & filthy blowjob, deepthroating, gagging, public sex (roadside), cum swallowing.

note. i need toji in a way that is so filthy and disgusting and nasty. it's so bad. also, here is an accurate representation of what i want to do to his cock, and what reader will be doing in this fic.

You weren’t a patient person. You didn’t like to wait for things and often found yourself impatient in long grocery lines. You’d huff and puff silently to yourself, sending people a faux smile when they dared to look in your direction. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when exactly in your life did you build up such a low tolerance for the virtue, but you don’t exactly care. If you want something, you’ve got to have it as soon as possible. And you desperately want to get home. 

Unlike the grocery store, you have an even worse tolerance for traffic and slow drivers. There were always the ones that went too slow in the fast lane, forcing you to speed past them at their selfishness; and, an asshole that never knew where they were going. Don’t even get started on the nosey people that wanted to lurk at a crime scene, always slowing down to get a good peek at a car wreckage instead of minding their own business. Any time you got the opportunity, you’d zing through the clear roads, the speedometer hitting over seventy mph in a forty-five. You usually get away with it, believing yourself to be an expert at controlling your speed and knowing just when to slow down. 

This time was no different. The moment you hopped in your car, you took a few seconds to set up a playlist before you were starting up the car and putting it in reverse. In three sharp moves, you were out of your work facility and cruising down the streets. As usual, your work days were long and you always complained of a headache right after. However, today seemed to be the worst of it as you weren’t able to get a lunch break because of the amount of call outs from work and your section of the building heavily understaffed. Your manager insisted that you would get a break at some point, but that never happened. 

You could tell that he figured your annoyance with how you failed to respond to his farewell when you let out an exasperated sigh and trudged right towards the elevators. You hadn’t uttered out a word to anyone, and that’s how you wanted it. 

Ten minutes away from home, you figured that if you just accelerated just a little bit more, you could knock it down to five minutes. The road was clear and there was only one other vehicle in sight. As long as you didn’t kill anyone, you were fine. 

You had spoken too soon. The same vehicle you mentioned prior quickly catching up to you as red and blue lights flashed behind you before the siren went off. Gripping the steering wheel, you curse. Hitting your brakes gently, you pulled up to the side of the road, tall blades of grass blowing in the cool autumn wind. You let out a sigh as you park the car, turning off the ignition as you see the black Lexus stop behind you. 

It takes you a moment to wind down the windows. Your shoulders tensing up when you see the door swinging open before seeing the officer that follows. You lean back in the seat before reaching for the top left button. Pressing down, the sound of the glass further antagonizes your migraine before feeling the shadow cast over you. You nearly jump out of your seat when you open your eyes. You clutch your chest, heart racing at the brute of a man— police officer— standing before you. 

You have to crane your head to get a good look at his face— dark hair that tickles his eyebrows, green eyes that glare down at you, and a scar on the left corner of his lips that frowns at you. His uniform holds him snuggly. Too snug, you’d say. Your eyes traverse his body at how he holds his vest, thumbs underneath as his four digits patter on top. He smirks as if he knows the effect he has on people, tilting his head as his eyebrows rise. “You’re well aware why I’m pulling you over, right?”

Your typical brazen attitude dilutes. Instead, meekly nodding your head as you let out a “yeah.”

“Can I see your license and registration?” He cuts right to the chase, taking out a small device as you fish for your purse. You grimace, reaching for your hand bag as it’s right there. However, you’re stalling and the officer can blatantly see that. “You stalling won’t make the ticket go away.”

Dropping the accessory, you fall in your seat, looking up at the officer sheepishly. You couldn’t afford to pay a five hundred dollar ticket. Actually, you could. You could fish into your savings and pay it off no deal, but you didn’t want to. “Is there any way I can not get a ticket?”

He stops tapping on the device, raising a judgemental eyebrow at you before snorting. “You can dispute it in court, but I doubt you’d win.”

You roll your eyes at the snarky comment before an epiphany courses through your body. You wind down your window even further at the possible prospects set in order as cross your arms and rest your chin down. Your eyes sparkle as you peer upwards, reading the name and badge number off of his ID. “There’s… nothing I could do to stop you from writing that ticket, Officer Fushiguro?”

“And risk my job?” Toji scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

He starts tapping away, but with a daring hand, your fingers prod at his belt. Right at the buckle before your index finger goes lower, so dangerously close to reaching for his clothed crotch. “My job has a few positions open. I can put in a good word.”

And who was he to deny a pretty thing like you, even if you offered out of your own selfishness, the cop deserved a little treat for himself. Setting down the tablet with one hand, he goes to switch off his body cam with the next. There’s a high probability that he’d get caught for this when the body cam footage gets reviewed. And, there’s a high probability of him getting suspended or fired over it, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to relocate to another police department for his misconduct, and he’s sure the next one would look past the sexual mishap and hire him. It always works out in his favor. 

The street is still bare and if this was kept as discreet as possible, none of the onlookers could tell what was happening. It gives Toji the go ahead when he unravels the holster, letting it hang over your door before he’s loosening the belt. He doesn’t drop his pants, only undoing the zipper enough to reveal the dark boxer briefs that do nothing to hide his heavy print. He palms at his growing erection through the fabric before pulling out his length through the opening. “Let’s put that pretty mouth to good use, yeah?”

Your eyes widen, wanting to bulge out of the sockets at the size of him. Immense length and girth that it hangs instead of stands. His mushroom tip starts leaking of translucent precum as he holds it up through the car window, resting one hand on the roof of your car as he looks down at you. He smears his pre, making the head glisten under the setting sun as he bucks his hips forward. He doesn’t have to say a word, nodding his head for you to open your mouth.

Toji’s been trying to be a better man. To hold himself to standards and do what needs to be done to make a decent living. However, vixens like you always find themselves in his pathway, a blatant trick that he always finds himself falling for. There’s hesitation in your movement, your mouth opening up a mere inch as you shuffle forward. You keep him waiting and wanting for the taste of your touch, making him impatient that his hand reaches inside to pull at your hair. Done nicely in a ponytail, it’s quickly wrecked by the strong grip of his hand forcing you closer to him. The tip of his length kisses your mouth, beckoning you to open up and invite him in just as you promised. 

This isn’t the first time he’s gotten a woman like this, talking a big game before they truly know what they’re dealing with. It makes him chuckle as he tilts his head, the right corner of his lip curving upward in a knowing grin as the sound reverberates from his chest. “What? You want that ticket after all?”

The threat of having to pay off that hefty fine is what helps you muster up the courage, pretty beady eyes that look up at him as you shake your head, no. “Don’t be stupid.”

Finally, you bring a hand to wrap around his length, your hands nowhere big enough to wrap around his impressive girth as you fix yourself in the car. Your free hand goes to unbuckle yourself as you hoist yourself to your knees. The leather seats already bring you pain as the joints dig into them, sticking your head out of the window to get in a better position. You squeeze your hand around the base, feeling the warmth of him before your fingers trickle down to grope at his balls through the uniform. They’re heavy and fat, you can feel. As you peer up at Officer Fushiguro, you can see how he clenches his jaw, not wanting to admit how the taunting action makes him feel as he still grips onto the roof of your car. 

The street’s gotten busier and the sky is darker, but still, no one can tell what’s happening as they zoom past. To them, it looks like a regular stop for a speeding ticket and he hopes to continue making it appear that way. He wants to tell you to get on with it, but your hands glide to grip his cock once more and wrap around the length. Smooth, tandem strokes as saliva pools in your mouth, making it build up before the wad lads straight to his length. You stroke his length, pumping him as he continues to grow harder in your hold. You’re no longer looking at his face, eyes solely focused on the task at hand as your mouth opens just a few centimeters. You feel the vein that runs down the underside of his shaft, rubbing your thumb against it and causing him to twitch in your hold.

You’ve managed to make him feel like he’s in your possession, like you have the say so instead of the other way around. And fuck, does it feel good to let loose. He lets out a low growl that vibrates from deep within as his shoulders fall, releasing all tension within himself. He loosens the hold on your head, but his hand never disappears completely from its place around the elastic band. He starts to wonder if this is some sort of ploy of yours to get yourself out of speeding tickets, and if he’s just one of your victims. If so, why should he care so much if he’s already fallen into your trap and under your spell? 

That migraine of yours seems to go away just by the small tug, the officer loosening the tension of the tight updo as you continue to jerk him off. The wetness of his precum mixed with your saliva makes his cock look like a porcelain prize, calling you over to finally fit him inside your mouth. Your hips shimmy as you take another inch out of the window, the meet of your chest and breasts pressing into the door window. You roll your neck before licking your lips, your pretty pupils finally looking up at him. He could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smile on your lips, but as quick as it came, it’s gone in the flash of a mere second. 

A pebbled kiss against the urethra, your tongue pokes at it nimbly. The taste of salt against your tongue is diluted as your mouth widens. Your mouth wraps around the head of his cock in a greed as it hollows out almost immediately. Toji grits his teeth, still keeping his composure against the car. A line starts to form at the traffic light as the night grows closer and passers-by start to dig their nose into the officer, eyes trying to see past through the tint before the light turns green again. Unfortunately, Officer Fushiguro couldn’t care less anymore about the stance of his position as a policeman, so absorbed with just the simple action of getting his dick sucked to worry about the consequences. 

You hum around his length, letting out a breath through your nose as you run your tongue down the shaft. The soft and thin veil of skin that moves with the push and pull of your wet muscle before your tongue flattens out to feel the hardness of his cock. You salivate, your mouth watering as the stench of sweat and pheromones mix into your senses, the smell bringing you into a haze as you try inching closer. You take more of him, feeling the way his length dips further inside, reaching for your uvula as you subconsciously start tearing up. You restrain yourself from gagging, the corner of your lips starting to drip with spit, sliding down your face. 

You forced yourself to take majority of him in before your reflexes started to finally acting up, a stream of tears already coming to follow. Toji hissed, pulling at the ponytail to tilt your head upward. “Take it easy, doll.”

Such simple words to set yourself at ease, but simultaneously turn you on. Arousal pools into the cotton of your underwear, creating a dark patch as you nod. You bring your hand to hold around the base, pulling yourself off his length to catch a breath. And fuck, do you look so pretty like this. All teary-eyed and ruined in a matter of a couple of minutes. He loved to watch them all struggle to take his length, no matter the hole, but it was just something about ruining their mouth that always kept him going. Just seeing how messed up their faces could get when they struggled. It was an intoxicating experience. 

The cold air hits his length, making Toji inhale deeply before you’re on your second attempt. This time, you take him in gradually, bringing him in inch by inch and slowly bobbing your head. What you couldn’t get to fit, you twisted your fist around instead, pumping his cock inside of you as he started to groan and grunt. The police officer admires you from up above, cursing under his breath. “Atta girl. You’ve got it now.”

You can taste more of his salted pre, loving the way he reacts to you. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact. You mewl as you grow more confidence to try and take more in once again. You push yourself deeper, letting his tip graze the back of your throat before forcing in more. You let yourself gag before pulling away, repeating it a couple of times. Your saliva bubbles, dripping down your chin and out onto the solid concrete. His grip on your hair tightens, but he never forces you down, just seemingly overwhelmed by pleasure. The dark blue sky kisses his skin finally as the moon fully peaks out from the dark clouds, the street lamps flickering on as the flashing headlights of speeding vehicles zoom past. 

This feels like a wet dream he never wants to escape as the wet sounds of you fucking your mouth on his cock gets muted by the sound of the night life. Oh, how he’d love to hear them alongside his deep moans. He was so expectant of you to disappoint, so ready to still write you up for a ticket in your failure. However, you swirl your tongue over his tip as he can feel that curdle in his stomach. You switch from tantalizing swirls to bobbing your head up and down, looking so pleased with yourself for making the officer on duty fall apart. 

“Fuuuck,” he drawls. There’s no alert of his approaching orgasm, simply shooting thick ropes into your mouth that you nearly choke on his seed. It’s so copious as you come to sing out high-pitched mewls. However, you’re still a relentless slut, continuing your sexual administrations on his length as his cum drips from the corners of your lips as well. He bucks his hips into you, eyes shutting as his sensitive head feels wrecked. You finally pull back, letting what’s left of his cum pool underneath your tongue before spitting it right out and letting it drip down his length. You jerk him off with quick thrusts of your hand, watching the way his hips stutter ever so slightly as he still tries to keep himself together. It seems useless with a woman like you as suck and guzzle at his tip. This second orgasm was quicker to approach than the first one, his sensitive urethra spurting out a thinner veil of cum. With brute strength, his grip on your head only tightens as he forces you down on his cock, making his head kiss the back of your throat to empty himself inside of you. 

He could tell you’re the type of gal to go at it all night if you could, pulling you off of his length with a muted pop as he looks down at your face. You look so much prettier like this. Makeup all ruined as you’re all teary-eyed and a mess. He’s a man true to his word, no longer going to write you a ticket. However, he didn’t want to waste this opportunity, wanting a taste of that pussy. Is it as good as your mouth is?

When he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling, through his hooded hazel eyes, his grins sinisterly. “I dunno. I think I’mma still have t’write up that ticket, ma’am.”

Your eyes widen as your chest heaves. “Wha—”

Inside, he reaches to unlock your door, pulling the handle open before forcing you to lean back. “I think your pussy will certainly do the trick.”

🕷. @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hi, sorry to bother you but I would like to ask for a post from Leona, where Cheka is trying to get her two favorite people married (ie Leona and the reader)

Hi! Sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, but over all I had fun too. I hope you enjoy!

Duly-Noted - Leona

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ sfw/ featuring Cheka/ request

Word Count: 1790

Leona huffed out a sigh as he watched Cheka play with you on the floor of the Ramshackle dorm from his relaxed lounging on the couch.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out his nephew’s scheme when, as soon as the little fuzzball had appeared, he’d cheerfully stated that he wanted to come and play with you. Of course, Cheka had given himself as soon as he’d included his demands that Leona come along with him, even though he’d been to visit you at Ramshackle dorm plenty of times on his own.

Cheka was definitely fond of you, and Leona couldn’t really blame the kid considering how you patiently played along with the child. But that wasn’t what was really going on here.

What was going on here had more to do with Cheka’s pressing questions about why Leona so often told family members that he wasn’t particularly attached to anyone at school.

He could still see Cheka’s bright eyes looking up at him with an insistent frown on his face, “You know that is true, Unca! You like Y/n!”

Leona had snorted at his nephew, shaking his head at the child and, for once, was genuinely amused, “And what makes you think that?”

“You look at them the same way Papa looks at Mama. And Y/n likes you too! Why don’t you just take them home with you? Then you don’t have to worry about leaving them here while you visit us!” Cheka was as determined as Leona had ever seen him, but it was a drastic misreading of the situation.

Leona had plenty of reasons to not want to visit home, and none of them had a thing to do with you. But the moment he’d told the child that, Cheka had smiled. 

He’d been all but beaming up at Leona from where he sat on his lap, hands fisted in Leona’s shirt like he thought his uncle would run away, “But you do like them.”

There were moments, like right then, when Leona almost wondered if Cheka was more intelligent than his father. Perhaps he’d taken after his mother in that sense. But then Cheka’s hare-brained plot for tricking you and Leona into a relationship certainly hadn’t been well schemed.

After all, Leona wasn’t the only one who'd caught on. You had, too. Though, to be fair, Cheka wasn’t exactly being stealthy with his questions about how, “Wouldn’t it be great if we all lived together?”

Leona had fully planned on handling it, but you'd only smiled, shaking your head and saying you’d talk to Cheka about it, “He’s just a kid after all, and he doesn’t mean any harm. There’s no need to come down on him so hard.”

Leona had only eyed you with rising eyebrows before shrugging, “Have it your way. But he won’t drop this easily. He’s a stubborn little thing.”

You’d snorted, elbowing him lightly as you went by to rejoin his nephew, “Must run in the Kingscholar family.”

And that had been that.

Truthfully, Leona hadn’t known what you’d told his nephew, but Cheka had fallen largely silent on the matter of a possible romance with you after that. 

In hindsight, though, Leona really should have known better to think that was all there was going to be to it. Nothing was ever that simple. Especially when you or his nephew were involved.

He had to hand it to Cheka, though; he’d been completely caught off-guard when the child had suddenly questioned him about his wedding plans. Especially since it happened during a trip to Sam’s with Ruggie.

Cheka held up the little ring-shaped lollipop, and before Leona could even start to refuse to buy the treat for him, the child spoke with innocent curiosity, “What kind of ring are you going to get for Y/n when you two get married?”

Leona blinked, his eyes widening as he stared at the child who just stared up at him while Ruggie did a spit-take and Sam’s eyebrows lifted. The only sound that broke the silence was the occasional beep as Sam continued to scan items.

Leona finally frowned, crossing his arms as he eyed the child, “What makes you think I’m going to marry the Herbivore?”

Cheka frowned almost immediately, as if he were trying to mirror his uncle’s expression, “Y/n and you like each other. But Y/n said they couldn’t move in with us until you two had gotten married. They said people would talk since we’re royals and they aren’t if you didn’t.” 

Cheka’s expression slowly shifted to one of concern, his tiny hand reaching out and grasping Leona’s pants leg, “You are going to marry them, aren’t you, Unca? Y/n’ll be sad if you don’t.”

Ruggie only barely managed to contain his laughter in an ugly-sounding snort that had Leona shooting him a look while a smile began to creep across Sam’s face.

“Did they?” Leona’s gaze shifted back to his nephew as he spoke, his tone careful as he eyed the child. But he was already putting two and two together without Cheka having to say anything.

You certainly had talked to Cheka about it, but now Leona was going to have to talk to you about this.

Ruggie wiped his eyes lightly before kneeling, humor still flooding his voice even as he eyed Cheka, “Well, marriage is a pretty big deal, Cheka. Leona can’t just go proposing without putting some real thought into it.”

Cheka frowned, but Ruggie only titled his head, reasoning with the child easily, “Y/n deserves the best, don’t you think?”

Leona watched, eyebrows raised, as Cheka frowned thoughtfully before his tiny face cleared like a sun coming out from behind clouds, and he nodded, smiling widely, “Oh! I see! Leona wants to sweep Y/n off their feet like those princes in the stories Mama likes so much.”

Leona didn’t even bother hiding his groan as Ruggie snickered mischievously, nodding and egging on the child, “Exactly, so you’re going to have to give him some time to do just that.”

Ruggie paused, glancing up at Leona with a grin that had Leona glaring at him warningly. But the hyena beastman was hardly even phased as he looked back at the child seriously, his eyes sparkling with poorly disguised mischievousness, “We’ll both have to support him, Cheka.”

Cheka’s expression turned determined as he nodded before looking up at Leona, “Good luck, Unca!”

Leona sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an annoyed, “Uh-huh,” as he watched Ruggie lead his nephew out of the store.

 He would get Ruggie for what a mess this was inevitably going to end up being, as well as deal with whatever the little mercenary wanted in exchange for his assistance later. First, he had a certain herbivore to find.

And he couldn’t complain that you were hard to find. But then you never were.

You were, as ever, at Ramshackle. Working on upkeep for the run-down building on your day-off, just like you usually did on the weekends when you weren’t working at the Mostro Lounge.

Leona didn’t even have to call out since Grim handled letting you know he was here for him.

You turned, blinking up at him in surprise, before a smile split its way across your face. Leona wasn’t really looking at you, though. Instead, he was staring at the busted chair you were apparently working on with a frown. 

How the crossbar had wiggled its way out, was beyond him, but that was evidently enough, what had happened.

“Leona! No little prince with you today?” Your voice was bright, and Leona found himself looking back your way as he propped himself in the doorway.

He crossed his arms as he looked down at where you were seated on the floor, tilting his head at you, “Nope, but a certain little prince did tell me what you told him the other day.”

You blinked in confusion before your eyes slowly cleared, and you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head slightly, “Oh, that. He bought the marriage excuse pretty easily, and at least that way I didn’t have to lie or something like that to him.”

Leona felt his eyebrows rise at your words as you twisted to go back to work on the chair, seemingly unconcerned by what side effects your words might have had.

“Yeah, but now that he’s found out we’re dating when no one else has, he’s going to report directly back to either Falena or his wife,” Leona pushed himself off the wall as he spoke, walking over to where you were.

You simply shook your head at his disgruntled words, a smile on your face, “I still don’t see why it would be so horrible for them to know. But even if he does tell them, they probably won’t believe him. Not if Falena is as concerned about your love life as you say he is.”

Leona frowned as he watched you before kneeling and reaching around you to help you support the chair while you fought the crossbar into place, “No, he’ll call and ask all sorts of questions or, worse, have his wife ask me all sorts of questions.”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly, “You’ll be able to handle it if it comes to that. But, like I said, I really don’t see why it’s a big deal if they know or not. I’d like to meet your family.”

Your words caused his eyebrows to lift once more as he glanced over at you, watching as a frown crossed your face.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, confusion accenting your voice as soon as you spoke, “How did you find out what I’d told Cheka anyway? Did he just tell you?”

Leona let out a huff, his ears twitching as he glanced off to the side, “He saw one of those lollipop ring thingies at Sam’s and asked me what sort of ring I was going to get you for the wedding.”

You laughed aloud, earning yourself a look even as you shook your head in light-hearted amusement before glancing at him, “Hopefully nothing like a Ring-pop. That would be hideous.”

Leona grinned, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t want something big like that?”

You snorted, shaking your head, “No. I think a rock that size, even a fake one, would be a little heavy.”

He let out an amused huff, turning his eyes back to the chair as he idly considered what sort of ring might actually be best, “Duly noted.”

After all, your thoughts on it all mattered too, even if you didn’t know that held actually had been looking at some rings already.

[cyborg-franky]

Prompt:

I was wondering how two characters, friends or rivals, would react to liking the same person (reader), and competing for their attention

(Like for example Kidd and Law, Zoro and Sanji, Rayleigh and Roger, King and Drake, Benn and Shanks, Ace and Sabo, Marco and Izo, I’m not asking for all of these of course, I’m just throwing in some ideas)

any characters that pique your interest!

SFW - GN READER

TW: Polyam - Marco x Ace

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

He gripped the edge of the desk and eyed Marco carefully.

“Alright, maybe I do, so?” he sniffed, his posture bristled with nervous energy.

“Well, I do too, and I don’t plan on giving up nor getting in your way, I’m too old to deal with drama.” Marco’s tone was friendly, his half-lidded eyes never looked away from Ace, watching for a reaction.

Ace cocked his head to the side, processing everything Marco said. The two were close, and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew Marco would kick his ass before he could even blink if he wanted to.

“So, what are you proposing, Birdbrain?”

“Ah!” Marco chuckled as he sat straight in his seat, arms folded over his chest, a cheeky grin as he explained exactly what he had in mind.

You’d no idea the two commanders even liked you, thought the awkward flirting from Ace was just him trying to be nice.

Thought Marco was just teasing you, enjoying getting you flustered and stumbling over your words.

So, when they both confessed their feelings to you, on the same day, at the same time, over dinner. Well.

Marco wasn’t the jealous type, too easy going and laid back.

Ace didn’t mind as long as he got most of the attention.

You had no idea you’d have ended up with two boyfriends.

But here you were.

[yuri-is-online]

Here's a short list of things that I think would affect yuu (not from an omegaverse world) being in twisted wonderland (omegaverse au)

The scent thing. In my mind, everyone has a scent, including betas, theirs are just weaker. So how would Yuu, who has no scent, be classified? Would ortho or idia want to study them and see what's different between twst folks and earth folks? Scent is usually just noted in smut scenes, but it does have a larger role in most a/b/o stories. Mainly, it's how people communicate emotions. If you're happy, it shows in your scent. If your distressed, it shows in your scent. If your scared, excited, horny, anxious, it shows in your scent. People probably focus on scent when it comes to emotions before they focus on your face or body language. So figuring out what Yuu is feeling is probably a lot harder. It's even worse if Yuu isn't that expressive in the first place. Although it does make me wonder about how people try to hide their scents when their trying to be aloof or stoic...

Noises. This also ties into emotions, the more extreme ones at least. A/b/o twst people purr when their happy or content and growl when they're feeling territorial. Yuu might be able to growl, not very well but whatever. But purring? Yeah no. Not happening. Bless Jades heart he's trying so hard to give Yuu gifts they like and listening for a purr and it just. Never comes. Also imagine being Yuu and you're just getting growled at on a daily basis that's just gotta suck lmoa

Warnings for menstruation and omega heats 🤩 (also jade thinks his partner got SAed so HUGE TW). I personally think that TWST doesn't have periods. Mostly because I read Period Drama series by twstfanblog and was like "Yeah sure I'll integrate that into my belief system". So Yuus under a lot of stress right? Especially those first few months and overblots, so I think it's safe to say that an AFAB Yuus cycle would probably skip over those few months or even a year until everything calms down. And then boom! Ovulation! Jade thinks it's a preheat or a heat and is trying SO HARD to be respectful because they did not talk about this before hand and he doesn't know if he's aloud to "help" them the way he's wants to. Doesn't exactly help that Yuus throwing themself at him every step of the way and asking shit like "Hey if we have kids what would you name them :D?". Yuu is killing him. All in all though, it's a pretty subdue heat, they're not confined to their nest (a messy pile of pillows, blankets, and cushions that they impulsively made in Ramshackle one day) or anything, they can go to class and move around just fine (he doesn't let them though. He doesn't need any perverts possibly getting off or fantasizing about something only he should be fantasizing about), and unfortunately, they're not keeping him in their nest and letting him breed them until they forget their own name, so it all worked out just fine. And then about a week later, he goes to Sam's first thing in the morning to buy more snacks and comes back to the strong scent of his loves blood, only to find out that blood was coming from "the void" and they're curled up in pain, and crying. Yeah that was the worst moment of Jades life, actually. 0/10. Would not recommend. He almost killed several people that day 👍

Nests. Yuu doesn't know what the hell a "nest" is or why Jade freaked out so hard with joy when they made their shitty little pillow fort but hey! At least he's happy! Look at him! Just vibrating with joy! While he's sitting just outside the fort and is just... staring at them..... Is he not gonna come in? So now their scooching over and awkwardly patting the spot next to them- and Jades eyes just dilated SO HARD ok

Ruts and knots. The Fun Shit. Jade asked (very flusteredly) if Yuu would be willing to help him through his upcoming rut and Yuus like 🧍👍🧎. And it's a lot more intense than they were expecting. Bro is looking a half step away from feral as he carries Yuu over to the "nest" and just let's go fully shortly after they start. And Yuu is throughly enjoying it but also- isn't this a little much?!It's just a week of a bad Coleen Hoover novel where all they do is have sex and sleep! They ain't built for this! Honestly, they're just a doll for him at this point because there is not a THOUGHT behind those eyes expect for Jade and his dick and they ain't even mad about it!

That last section wasn't a question I was just thirsty. Damn this ask got long as hell shit.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH bless you. My lifespan... my strength... it is returning 2 me.

I think a lot of this could be cleared up with some communication, but at the same time poor Yuu wouldn't know what they were supposed to be communicating.

If scents are reflective of emotion and how people communicate, I would think they reflect people's personalities in the same way facial expressions do? So a particularly stoic person (like say Silver) would have a much more muted scent when he's happy than someone who is much more expressive (like Kalim.) Of the people who would be most distressed by Yuu's lack of scent, I think it would actually be Riddle since I could see him thinking it is a medical issue they need to get checked out ASAP. It would certainly isolate them from their peers even more than not being a mage would, making them a real alien as far as most people in Twisted Wonderland would be concerned.

Now. Jade. My beloved. I think after he manages to successfully court Yuu he would be very smug about this because he would be maybe one of the only people in Twisted Wonderland able to pick up on Yuu's unique body language. But that's in the future, now he's struggling because on top of no scent there's no purrs D:< He's fantasized about what it would sound like sosososososo many times and he is worryingly close to realizing that he's not above begging. He just wants some praise from his chosen mate... please...

lmao about the growling I just would not be able to take that seriously and probably make some dumb comment that would get my ass beat. But if it was really loud that would stress me out.

... oh poor Jade. In my head I am thinking of Yuu maybe having been told by a (concerned) adeuce that Jade is attempting to court them so they start trying to reciprocate (which does not help anyone's concerns) but they haven't really talked about what exactly that means yet. So by the time Yuu starts ovulating they're still in what Yuu might consider to be a "talking" phase? Because Jade hasn't asked to make things official? Whereas Jade is simultaneously on cloud nine planning the wedding and in the depths of despair wondering how best to continue his courtship efforts because oh he wants to help you with your heat so badly :c he's in a permanent state of horny grip the entire week and so tense. Yuu wonders if it would be too much to offer to help him relax since they aren't all that close yet so they figure they'll ask him some questions to see how he reacts and all that and he is extremely receptive but he still doesn't make a move, even if he does insist on talking to them around the pillow fort a lot?

Speaking of the pillow fort... I'm just picturing Jade sitting so pretty and heavy breathing while Yuu is sat there very confused because he is buzzing with excitement but they can't tell what kind. Man relationships are real hard so is jade when you add in alien biology and customs to them please let him help you hope you aren't doing something wrong? you could never please please please just one chance Yuu one chaaaaance

The period stuff... I don't think my mind would jump to SA but certainly some sort of attack and Jade being Jade, he would not let that stand. Thankfully no one actually gets hurt since Jade asks Yuu for names and they have a very strange conversation about reproductive biology. Oh so you are bleeding because you aren't pregnant? Well that sounds like such an easy fix~ And is probably when you finally have that talk about how horny he was all last week because he asks, very earnestly asks to help you through your next "heat" so you don't have to endure this pain again.

Since you were being thirsty allow me to share some of my... thoughts (￣▽￣||)

I feel like Jade would want to take Yuu in his merform at some point if not first because he wants them to think about it. He wants to ruin them for anyone who is not very specifically him and he is not shy about it, but alas the omega decides where to build the nest and you chose "poorly." Yuu is getting their guts rearranged while Jade bullies them about their poor nest building skills. It's ok, he just finds you so cute maybe he'll walk you through it next time? Sure he's never had to build a nest, never felt the need but he's sure if you follow his instructions nice and slowly you'll do just fine.

You wind up in Ramshackle's tub more than once. Just don't complain about not being able to remember most of it because he'll just take that as you wanting a redo. Say less, he's been good for too long anyway *smack*

[essenceeater]

Erron black trying to court s/o headcanons? 🫡

Erron Black Courting HC's

I LITERALLY LOVE YOU FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS ERRON! I love him so much, cowboys are just AUGHHHH 😫😫😫 This is probably the fastest request I've written!

Character: Erron Black.

Triggers: Mentions of guns, lmk if I missed anything.

Requested: Yes

🔓 Requests are open at the moment🔓

Link to rules

🐎 Erron Black would maintain his mysterious aura but gradually reveal his softer side to his S/O. He might leave little gifts or hidden notes around to pique his S/O's curiosity. He leaves small, enigmatic notes with cryptic messages, encouraging the reader to solve them, leading to secret meetups.

🐎 Occasionally, he sends them rare desert flowers or unique trinkets as tokens of his affection.

🐎 Erron challenges you occasionally to a shooting competition in a secluded area, setting up targets in creative and challenging ways.

🐎 He'd provide shooting lessons, standing closely behind the reader to guide their aim, creating a romantic tension. He just wants to impress you with his sharp shooting skills

"Let me show you how it's done," Erron stands behind, guiding his S/O's arm, both focusing their vision on the target in front of them. "Now, squeeze the trigger gently."

🐎 An adventure might involve a surprise horseback ride to a hidden oasis, complete with a picnic he prepared. I know this is Erron we are talking about but he's gonna try his damn best to make you happy.

🐎In perilous situations, Erron would shield the reader, using his skills to ensure their safety. He'd be damned if something happened to you. He'd go to great lengths to ensure his S/O's safety, showing his commitment and care.

"I can't stand to see anyone threaten you. I'll always keep you safe, no matter what."

🐎 Erron's morally ambiguous nature might lead to inner conflicts, as he tries to balance his loyalty to Outworld with his feelings for his lover. He doesn't want to scare you away or think he'd hurt you, but he's not going to give up his outlaw life, just keep you away from the dangers.

🐎 During quiet nights by a campfire, he definitely would tell you stories, some goofy, some intense. He might gradually open up to you about his past and the reasons for his outlaw lifestyle, creating a bond of trust and intimacy.

🐎 YOU CAN'T TELL ME HE WOULDN'T TRY TO CHARM HIS S/O WHILE COURTING THEMMMMM!! HE SO WOULDDDD.

🐎 Expect lots of playful banter and teasing from Erron as he tries to charm you. His wit and humor would be part of his courtship strategy. HOWEVER THEY ARE ALL SUPER CHEESY AND FUNNY. I love him but I feel like he'd be saying some of the most goofy shit possible with someone he genuinely likes.

🐎He would tease the reader with witty one-liners, creating a playful yet flirtatious dynamic.

🐎 Banter between them would be a recurring theme, adding humor to their interactions.

"You might want to be careful, sweetheart. I've been known to steal hearts." Erron said as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him as the two of you watched the stars.

"Oh really?" S/O chuckles as they rest their head against his shoulder. Rolling their eyes at his cheesy attempt to charm.

🐎This man is an outlaw, he's unpredictable.

🐎 What does this lead to?

🐎He might surprise the reader with unexpected acts of kindness or show up when they least expect it, keeping them on their toes. All of a sudden he's appearing at their doorstep with a homemade dinner and flowers in hand.

🐎 Unexpected visits during storms, when the reader least expects it, would be Erron's way of expressing his affection.

"I brought dinner. Hope you like it."

"You can cook?"

"A little something I picked up over the years. Just for you."

🐎 Erron Black would likely be a fan of slow burn, gradually building a connection and chemistry with his S/O, making the eventual romance more rewarding from his courting.

"I reckon I want to savor every moment with you, darlin'. No rush."

Essenceeater © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, steal, repost ANY of my content.

[tearsofcalamity]

handsy

⊹ character(s). satoru gojo ⊹ genre. n/sfw ⊹ tags. gn!reader (strap is mentioned but no anatomy specifically mentioned), dom!reader, sub!gojo, groping, thigh humping, orgasm denial, toy usage (vibrator), hair pulling, degrading, petnames used, dacryphilia, gojo satoru being his usual mischievous self but reader knows how to put him in his place!

ask and you shall receive (THANK YOU FOR VOTING GOJO IN THE POLL THANK YOU THANK YOU THHNFJNJNMJMGKKT)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI PLEASE!

"satoru, I said no."

"but..."

gojo's lips formed into a completely heartbroken pout as you swapped back to his regular old name instead of the affectionate nickname he'd insisted upon many a time, resting his head on your shoulder with a wounded expression.

for the past ten minutes, he'd been getting frisky with you. despite your repeated reminders that you were still technically on the clock if your students needed help with their training, they seemed to all go in one ear and out the other.

even now, his hand had slid down your lower back, just barely groping at your ass.

you immediately snatched up his wrist, glaring at him.

"do you want me to get furious with you? knock it off."

you didn't miss the way his eyes darkened with lust, biting his lip cheekily at your glowering stare.

"honey, if you look at me like that, it's going to get worse..."

indeed, your eyes drifted down just enough to see a prominent tent in your boyfriend's pants. just like a horny teenager, only one little push and he was raring to go.

as soon as you had caught sight of it, he grinned slyly, moving so that his front was pressed right up against your leg. he grasped your hand in his, just barely resisting the urge to start grinding against you.

you scoffed. a shiver wracked through satoru at the sound. he must be truly desperate.

"please, y/n, please?" he begged with all his might, blindfold off to truly accentuate his pleading eyes. "we can just do a quickie, just hop into an empty classroom, it'll take 5 minutes—"

"you say that every time, and it always turns into a fuckfest," you accused, feeling your eyebrow twitch at the way he guiltily conceded to your words with his cheeky smile. "you're never satisfied until I've wrung you dry at least ten times."

"that's an over exaggeration," he shot back, pouting again. before you could retort, you felt him give into his urges, rutting ever so slightly against your side. his breath, hot and heavy, landed on your ear, his breathless pleas swirling around in your mind.

he knew the way to get you going, and you hated him for it.

little whimpers slowly started filling your ear, but you tried not to react.

"please," satoru panted, biting down on his lip again as he got just the slightest stimulation from rubbing against you. his tip was leaking, aching, and he needed to do something about it now. needed you to do something about it.

"jus' love you so much... love you, love feeling you, please, feels so good in you, need you so bad..."

your glower was faltering.

"c'mon, please? just one, promise... want you inside me, too, know you keep that vibe in your bag jus' for me..."

you grit your teeth. as much as you hated to admit it in a moment where you were trying to be serious and consider your job at hand, he was right—the small remote-controlled vibrator was always carried with you at your boyfriend's loving request.

finally, you snapped, grabbing his bicep and practically yanking him into the empty classroom.

you slammed the door shut, all-too angry with the pleased expression your smug little boyfriend was sporting as he sat down on one of the desks.

"knew you'd—"

"quiet," you scolded, smashing your lips onto his. satoru reveled in how your tongue slid over his, how your teeth nipped at his abused lips from all his earlier biting, how you drank in his wanton moans.

he rutted up towards your leg again, but to his surprise, you grabbed his arms, pushing him chest-first onto the desk.

gojo wiggled his hips brazenly, as though inviting a challenge. you ignored his antics and lathered up your fingers with spit, pulling down his pants and finding his rim immediately.

he whined as you pushed the first finger inside, testing the waters. his little hole was as tight as ever, yet it still sucked your digits inside as soon as you started prodding. your other hand shifted to his weeping cock, lathering it in his overabundant pre, and he began squirming about.

little pants and huffs escaped his lips, but he still manages to turn on you with expectant, aggravating eyes.

"wish you had your strap," he whines, words long and drawn out. "want you to fuck me so good."

instead of ordering him to shut his mouth, you opted to shoving your precum coated fingers right into him, replacing your other hand and prodding down on his prostate nearly as soon as they'd entered him. satoru's back arched prettily at that, once smug eyes shooting wide open with surprised pleasure.

you began poking and pressing, rubbing against that sensitive little bundle of nerves within him. like a cheap whore, satoru instantly began pushing his ass back towards you, hips twitching with every press.

"p-please—" he whined, neglected cock practically dripping as you grasped his ass with your other hand, kneading it while you fucked him open. "more, w-want more, want it inside, lemme—"

you cleanly slid the vibrator into gojo before he could even process the movement, making sure it pressed into that spot within him just right.

he whimpered when your fingers left his hole, cock twitching. his blue eyes found yours again. a silent plea reflected in his gaze, but you only clicked your tongue, flipping him over and raising the remote as you sat across from him.

"I'm not riding you until we're home."

"but—!" those pretty eyes looked like they could start tearing up at any minute, but in the next second, they rolled back into satoru's head. the vibrator was noisy the instant you flipped it on, putting it on the highest setting and watching your boyfriend's jaw fall slack.

his thighs trembled as the little toy moved inside of him, drool beginning to slide down his lip as he grasped the desk.

you beckoned him over, and he shakily got to his feet, walking to stand in front of you. it seemed as though his knees might give out at any moment, poor thing, so you did the polite thing and propped up your leg.

"sit."

gojo didn't need to hear it twice, sitting himself right down on your leg and wincing as the vibe moved in him, shifting around with his every motion.

"want to get off, slut?"

gojo nodded enthusiastically, a heavy flush on his cheeks as he moaned and whined.

"yes, yes, please, touch my cock, please let me—"

"no, no," you chastised, placing your hand over his hip in a bruising grip. he whimpered. music to your ears. "you're going to hump my leg like a good little dog. got it?"

satoru keened. but with a weeping cock and no fight or cheek left in him, he nodded slowly, rubbing his aching dick against your leg. almost immediately, the stimulation had him desperate, rutting faster, his mouth opening as pathetic little noises left him.

"so pitiful," you hummed, reaching down to push on the vibrator stuffed up his ass. gojo cried out, precum trailing along your bare leg as he grinded against you like a dog in heat. "need me so bad, don't you, 'toru?"

"yes!" he sobbed, hands grasping your waist as he chased his pleasure blindly, eyes fogged over with a haze of lust. "p-please, lemme cum! want you in me! please fuck me!"

there was something so deeply intoxicating about seeing the strongest act like such a depraved whore all for you. you couldn't help but reach out and grab his chin, pushing your thumb onto his waiting tongue.

just like a cheap slut, he began sucking on your thumb at once, putting on a show of lathing your digit in spit and wrapping his tongue around it.

you smirked at that.

"being such a good little toy for me," you cooed. "maybe when we get home I'll really bend you over good and get you nice and ruined."

the way his eyes lit up with sheer lust was amusing beyond all belief.

"yes! yes!" he pleaded, pressing his ass and cock down onto your leg as he moved interchangeably to get the vibrator impossibly deeper within him. "s-so close! want you in me! want you to fuck me!"

"as you wish," you murmured lowly, pulling him down so he was angled more towards your chest. you reached behind him as he ground down onto your leg, grasping the vibrator and yanking it out of him. he was about to complain—that is, until he felt you shove it right back into him, obscene squelching accompanying the pounding of it into his prostate. the pleasure was sending jolts throughout the poor man, and he was growing increasingly desperate.

your other hand moved to his soft white locks, yanking them hard as you angled his face to be level with yours, kissing him sloppily as he keened into your mouth.

his cock was soaked in his own precum by now, twitching pitifully as it dragged against your leg. you could feel how wet it all was, the sticky white coating your skin in a soft sheen as he rubbed up and down.

"g'na—" gojo cried, muffled by your lips sliding over his. you allowed him a chance to breathe, staring into his teary eyes. "c-cum— g'na cum, cumming, cumming!"

before he could rut even once more, you reached between your two bodies, pinching the base of his cock. satoru's eyes shot wide open, and he tried at once to squirm away, but it was too late.

"n-no! no!" he sobbed, actual tears falling at last when the heat that had risen in his belly burned and faded instead of snapping like he had hoped. he blubbered openly, lower lip trembling as he tried to continue rubbing against you. "was so close! no— hngh! hurts, hurts, please, need t'—"

"never promised I'd let you cum."

gojo mewled, still trying to nudge his hips against yours, the sensation of the vibrator buzzing within him only bringing back a dull shred of pleasure that hurt somewhat after the blue balls you'd given him.

"why?" he sniffled, in a daze, and you almost felt bad with the way he looked up at you. "was so close, was so..."

you shrugged. "punishment for disobeying me, satoru. you know that's how it works."

he did. he did know that's how it works. still, he thought his charm had gotten him away with his little schemes.

"you're so mean," he practically cried, burying his face into your chest. "so mean to me!"

you glanced at the clock on the wall.

5:30.

"time to clock off," you sighed, sitting up and grasping at gojo's pants, pulling them up onto him. he noted how you did not remove the vibrator from within him, only turning it off with the small remote control.

you headed to the door at once, pointedly ignoring the puppy dog eyes your boyfriend was giving you. then, you glanced back at him.

"I thought you wanted to be fucked stupid tonight. so, are you coming home, or not?"

that perked him up.

satoru was by your side in an instant, squirming around just as he had done before, clearly still lust-struck.

"you're gonna fuck me back home?"

"yes."

"are you gonna fuck me 'til I can't walk?"

"yes, 'toru."

"make me cum ten times over to make up for—"

"not if you keep talking so loud! for god's sake, satoru, we're still in the school!"

well, he'd take it any day.

bonus:

"oh, ijichi-san!"

"hello, y/n-san! are you and gojo-san headed home for the day?"

"yes, I'm afraid he's not feeling too well..."

poor ijichi was painfully ignorant to the other implications gojo's flushed cheeks and uncomfortable noises could have, all the while your hand sneakily slid the small remote-control dial up in your pocket.

[lgbtq-userboxes]

[yanderestarangel]

✧ HEADCANONS FNAF | SMUT VERSION | MIKE SCHMIDT

★ TW: afab anatomy, pet names, degradation, dom!mike, v!sex, rough sex, blowjob, overstimulation, little praise.

˚｡⋆.☆Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post, comments and reblogs are welcome♡

★ A/N: some people asked me in inbox if I watched the fnaf movie and the answer is: yes! I watched it with my boyfriend and it was a lot of fun, so I decided to write something about Mike yey >ㅅ<

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike is a stressed man, with all the pressure of taking care of his sister, the nightmares and a bad job - which can consume a lot of his energy - he will just want to be in your arms at the end of the day and preferably, between your legs.

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will arrive home tired, with a smell like men's cologne faint from the hours he spent at work, and a thin layer of sweat covering his face and back, while he desperately looked for you in every corner of the house, shouting your name. Schmidt won't even give you time to ration, as he lifts you onto the nearest firm surface and spreads your thighs - if you were wearing any shorts, he would desperately tear them off while he glues his face to your pussy, lubricating it with saliva and making circular movements with his tongue on your clit, enjoying every moan you made, every time you ran your fingers through his hair - pulling him even closer - Schmidt would moan against your sensitive flesh, looking you in the eyes before continuing to pleasure you.

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will fuck you all over the house when Abby is out or at school - kitchen, living room, balcony or anywhere that is empty enough - covering your mouth with his hand, while he shoves his thick, pulsing length into you , without any protection. He's the type of man who likes to spill every drop of his seed into your womb, painting your spongy walls pearly white, while grunting and praising you, telling you how good your pussy is for his dick, he likes to call you a "hungry little slut" with each hot jet that comes out of him, while he smiles and growls when he sees your expression of lust.

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will leave you breathless, pushing you against the cold bathroom sink as he forces you to look in the mirror, you can see the dark circles under his eyes, his naked body against yours, how his cock slides against your wetness easily as he grabs your chin with his fingers - putting enough force to turn the tips white - He would see every reaction, every moan or scream that came out of you through reflection, roughly grabbing your hip with his other hand. His balls would already be wet from your juices with his, while the sounds of skin against skin could be heard echoing out of the room. "-Yes...Ah- Fucking hell my darling, your pussy swallowing my dick... just like that, keep it up please." he moaned hoarsely, as he looked at the sight of your wetness swallowing and repelling his shaft, with each rough thrust he made. "-You're such a good little thing for me, I'm going to give you every last drop of cum, right?"

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will make you get ready for him, putting on your best clothes, putting on perfume and makeup for him, just for him to fuck you doggystyle on the bed, pulling your hair to expose your neck while deeply marking your soft skin with his teeth - From the intensity of his hips, you could tell how angry he was at everything and everyone that night - you could hear him grunting and grumbling about some pay cut or how he didn't get a promotion to improve your life. He will take out all his anger on your pussy, leaving you a mess, your makeup was smudged, your clothes were messy or even torn in some corner of the room, you were at his mercy, while his fingers roughly rubbed over and over again on your clit - making a delicious combo with each violent thrust deep into your core. He will degrade you while fucking all your tight holes. "-You're my favorite slut." "-You asked for this didn't you? You're a needy whore for my dick- Mmm-" "-You're a cumdump for me, needy and a quivering mess for my dick."

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will love putting you between his legs, your knees hurt from the weight and hardness of the floor. His dick pulsed as you forced yourself to swallow everything, looking at him relaxing with each provocative yet relaxing and hot movement, while the head of his dick beat rhythmically in your throat. The wet sounds and muffled moans about his member made him grunt, throwing his head back, grabbing your head with his left hand while his right hand held the side of the chair, he was going to encourage you to go deeper. "-Please baby, be a good boy/girl and make me cum... Swallow it all for me ok?"

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike loves lying in bed completely naked, with his cock exposed to you, while watching you rub your pussy over him, he would be sleepy and tired, but the sight of you rubbing your wet pussy over him, looking for a release for everyone Your repressed lust was enough for him to stay awake for up to a few hours, resting his hands on your hips and squeezing the soft flesh of your ass as he moved down. Their eyes would be seeing the cum leaking from the tip of his dick, his crotch totally dirty, as he smiled at you, closing his eyes. "-Keep having fun baby... I'm here for you."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[merakiui]

winter woes.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, breeding, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied stalking, obsession note - strangely, jade is thrown into his mating season in the middle of winter.

Jade thought it wasn’t so bad when he woke up in a feverish fog. He assumed it would dissipate once he got to moving, but it only seemed to worsen as the day wore on. He trudged through his classes with dimming focus, reasoning that if he wasn’t about to keel over and die he could survive a few hours of lecture.

It was fine. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He’s Jade Leech, Octavinelle’s talented Vice Housewarden! A masterful actor capable of brilliant efficiency, even when he’s at his lowest.

And yet he’s never experienced a day as detrimental as this one. He’s endured his fair share of sleepless nights, stagnant days, and monthly burnout. On some level, Jade suspected it was coming when the frost began to encroach on withered plants and leafless trees. He always finds himself bogged down with an annual case of winter woes. 

This pattern of behavior isn’t any different.

Except it is. Very different, actually. Unlike his previous blues, this one is markedly unique. He’s never been this delirious before, so much so that he staggers about like he’s learning to walk all over again. Winter blankets the world in white, condemning Jade to what he believes is Mother Nature’s padded cell.

Without enough stimulation or spontaneity, how can he possibly function?

Normally, he’d take to trekking in the mountains to clear his head. The biting cold is familiar, a reminder of the comforts of home, but it doesn’t soothe him like it should. He’s restless and itchy, perpetually hot all over. His clothes aren’t helping either, clinging like seaweed. He wants to shred them to pieces and dive into the sea. Or hike in the mountains. Definitely one of those. 

Alas, even if he wanted to scale a mountain, he couldn’t. Not when they’ve called for the possibility of an avalanche.

He is, unfortunately, stuck in the dreaded rubber room with his school uniform for a straitjacket. Only the room itself is made of ice, and it’s unpleasant and isolated. He’s left alone with his thoughts and they’re swirling around his skull in a flurry of snowflakes.

Clothes are truly unbearable… How can land-dwellers possibly endure such constrictive material?

Perhaps he underestimated his own mental fortitude. It’s bad. Very bad. So bad that he’s just as startled as you are when he crosses paths with you in the hall, catches the scent of your shampoo, and sprouts fins. 

“Oh, Jade, your ears!” You’re gesturing at his face with worried urgency. He follows your line of sight and reaches to brush his fingers along the pointed webbing jutting out from the area where his ears ought to be. You take a step towards him and Jade, rather foolishly, takes one back. You blink at him, bewildered. “Is…everything okay? You seem under the weather. Want me to walk you to the infirmary? I’m going that way right now, actually.”

Jade wets his lips and swallows thickly. Did you always smell this nice? No… No, he has to focus! Right. Focus on the issue at hand. His transformation potion must be wearing off. Surely that explains the sudden surprise of… Your hips—were they always shaped so nicely, or is it just an illusion from your uniform slacks?

No, he’s sure of it. Something’s different about you. His nose wrinkles.

Sweeter. That’s it.

You smell sweet like a flower or candy. And your eyes are brighter in this light as they look up at him, glittering like pearls in the deep. You’re wearing the same uniform, but you’ve never looked more appealing. And your hips—

Jade curbs that thought before it can deteriorate his sensibility far past his control. What was the topic of conversation? It’s his turn to respond, isn’t it?

“I’m quite all right. Thank you for your concern. This is merely an error on my part. I’ve neglected the time.”

“Really?” You say it like you don’t believe him. Jade forces a smile, gluing his gaze to your face to avoid looking anywhere else. “It’s not like you to be so forgetful. Geez. Is Azul giving you a break over there?”

He chuckles. “I assure you all is well in my world.”

As it happens, his world is currently tilting and spinning and blurring, messy like a shaken terrarium. Jade’s attempt to excuse himself is made in vain, for he strides past you and immediately stumbles. You hurry to steady him, your fingers wrapped tight around his arm. Your touch sends an unusual electricity bolting up his spine, and suddenly he’s overcome with a wild urge. He wants to push you against the wall, slot his knee between your legs, and bite your lips bloody.

He could do it. He knows your preferences. He knows you like he knows his hand. Intimately acquainted, even if you’re not aware of your second shadow. 

Jade yanks himself free as if the contact is scalding. His heart skips in his chest, frenzied in a way it’s never been before.

He’s had plenty of scandalous fantasies in passing, and he was content to leave them as such. But now…

Sweat beads at his brow and rolls down his back between his shoulders. He needs to shed these layers. A wildfire rages beneath his skin. It’s the middle of winter. Why is he so hot? Surely there’s a logical explanation for…you. Looking at him. You’re looking at him.

Oh, you’re so pretty.

“Jade?” You move in again, lifting your hand to his forehead. This time, before he can jerk backwards, you pull away. “You’re burning up!”

“Is that so? I must not have noticed…”

He has a quick-witted retort to tack onto that sentence, but it’s scrambled on his tongue.

“If I may, (Name), have you always looked so…”

He pauses, tasting the adjective in his mouth. He was certain humans didn’t have the same sort of broadcasters merfolk do—the shifts in behavior that allow for successful mating. Colors and sounds, a duet of language. Special scents and other bodily cues to convey secret messages. A mutual understanding between two. The need to fulfill a biological imperative beneath the sea.

Is that what this is about? He was certain his transformation snuffed that part of his biology. He’s not a mer right now. He’s human. So then why is he feeling so…not human?

Ready is the word he thinks he’s searching for, but he’s starving and so it comes out wrong. 

“Ripe. Like fruit.”

“Uh… No?” You cough out an awkward laugh. If Jade could feel shame, it would be raking its nails across his back. “Are you sure you’re okay? You know what—don’t answer that. Let’s just get you to Professor Crewel. He’ll know what to do.”

Jade spies his reflection in a nearby window. The markings under his eyes are showing through pale skin. There are flecks of scales gathered on his forehead. Mindlessly, he reaches to touch them.

You turn to look at him, and he can parse the shift in your attitude like it’s blood in the water—deliciously potent. He wants to dig his claws into you and never let go. He wants to love you until the very feeling is muddled and you’ve lost sense of what’s healthy and sane. If only you could understand, peer through his eyes for the day, and navigate the labyrinth that is his heart.

“Jade? You coming?”

He already knows what’s happening. He doesn’t need the diagnosis from Professor Crewel. He just needs you.

Before you can continue onwards in your beeline to Professor Crewel’s office, Jade seizes your hand. You don’t flinch, but you do struggle to put your confusion into words. The feeling is almost palpable, clear on your countenance like a cloudless sky. He watches you, trailing his eyes over your face and finding new things to appreciate. If he allows delusion to grip him by the throat, he can pretend the makeup is all for him—a discreet, enticing signal.

He reads it. He listens. He knows, even if it’s the furthest from what he believes it to be.

Jade clasps his hands around yours.

“Um… Okay then.” Your shoulders shudder with laughter. “Is this really you, Jade? This isn’t Floyd putting on an act again, is it?”

He shakes his head, suddenly disgruntled. Why would it be Floyd? Do you want it to be Floyd? His grip on you tightens to a possessive degree. He steps closer, not yet pressing himself against you but edging dangerously close. He doesn’t speak a word when he opens his mouth at you, revealing pearly points set in razored rows. You don’t seem to grasp the meaning behind his gaping maw, and it’s somewhat disheartening.

Logically, he’s aware of your very human ideals—ideals that fail to encapsulate the intricacies of moray courtship. Still, he hopes the sentiment comes through.

“Something wrong with your teeth?” You tilt your head and squint up at him. “They look fine to me.”

Jade shuts his mouth, considering his options. It would be much easier if this was the sea. Then he could present you with hypnotic bioluminescence, drape a chain of sea flowers around your neck, and offer you an entire month’s worth of fish. None of that is very viable on land. At the very least, he could replicate it—take you in a dark room and hope the shine in his eyes is bright enough to entice you, conjure flowers with magic, and scour the Mostro Lounge’s storage for enough food to last you through the season.

Surely the desire I feel for you transcends the great depths of the sea. He breathes out a sad sigh. I want to make you mine. I want you to look at me in the same way I look at you. Won’t you do that for me? Please…

As far as he’s aware, humans follow their own palaver when it comes to romance and attraction. What he’s learned from his time on land is that human courtship is, by his comprehension, excessively complicated. While moray courtship has clear, defined goals, each one outlined in the body language of both parties, humans baffle with the time it takes to secure a mate. Jade watches students get together and fall apart within the span of weeks. It’s fascinating. Dating is almost like a trial run—like testing a new ingredient in a recipe to see if it sweetens or sours the overall dish.

He could have gone that route; he was fully prepared to, but the human and mer sides of his brain are leaving him in a daze. It’s impossible to think like a human when his mer instincts are vibrating so intensely beneath his skin, every part of his deep-sea biology saying he ought to do it the mer way.

So he opens his mouth again.

He’s cheating when he nods at you. Somehow you work out half of his intention.

“My mouth? What about it?” It hits you then, and your eyes widen into the shape of a full moon. “Oh! You want to compare teeth size, is that it?”

Not exactly what he was aiming for, but it has you reciprocating anyway. You open your mouth to show off your teeth, and if Jade was of a more stable mindset perhaps he would have been content to simply observe. He doesn’t expect land-dwellers to know anything more than what’s taught in class.

“What do you think? Mine aren’t as cool as yours,” you say after a moment.

“I think…” He hesitates. The words are jumbled, and he almost says it in mermish. But it’s difficult to produce the syllables with his limited nasal capabilities in this form. A smile curves his lips up, and it’s so similar to Floyd’s dopey grin that it leaves you slack-jawed. “Pretty,” he says with a happy hum. “Very pretty.”

Before you can respond, his hands slide away from yours to secure tightly around your wrists. And then he’s pulling you in the opposite direction, through the main building’s many halls, until he finally arrives at his destination.

You’re tugged into the Hall of Mirrors next. Jade seems to be losing his usual gentlemanly flair, for he issues you an apologetic chuckle as an afterthought. His mer features look more defined now—even his skin tone is darkening to suit the color palette of his mer form. You weren’t in objection before, but now that you find yourself being pulled through the mirror and trapped in the bubble transport with Jade you begin to worry.

“Hey, hold on a minute! Shouldn’t we find Professor Crewel? Your transformation potion—”

The sound of shredded leather disturbs the air. Jade lifts his gloved hands for both of you to survey. His claws have ripped through the material, and he’s grown webbing beneath the tattered remains of his gloves. When he reaches for you, you flinch away.

An uncomfortable quiet falls over the bubble, only bursting once you’re inside Octavinelle Dorm.

Jade’s heart aches when he spies the unease scrawled on your face. Don’t look at me like that. Please, my pearl, don’t fear me. I would never hurt you.

Is it so wrong to want to smother you in an abundance of love? If this kind of love is forbidden on the surface, how is he meant to exist in the same world as you? It was possible for the mermaid princess and her lover. Is this not the same? It’s just love. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Right?

He curls his hands into fists and hopes the stabbing pain of his claws piercing his palms is enough to quell the urge to hold you.

“J-Jade…” Your voice is meek, a mere wobble. “Are you okay?”

He blinks, suddenly aware that blood is oozing from open wounds. “Ah… Forgive me… I’ve shown you such an ugly side.”

“No, I’m sorry! It startled me, that’s all.” You attempt a brave, albeit flat, smile. “I’m not scared. Just…surprised. Is this how all merfolk get when they’re sick?”

Jade wants to understand, but he has never known dread like that before. He’s a predator. He doesn’t need to feel fear when he instills it in others.

Still, it bothers him more than he thought it would. If you fear him… If you can’t present him with a real smile…

Is there even a point if he’s not the reason for your happiness? What is he if not the blight that destroys your flowering radiance?

Without fail, like a cruel cycle destined to burden him, the winter weather evokes morbid gloom. It darkens his consciousness like a shroud over a corpse or a cover on a mirror.

If you’re not scared, why are you keeping your distance? Am I truly so monstrous that you feel the need to cower? My love is sincere. I promise I would never hurt you.

But he would, if given the opportunity. And that’s precisely what he plans to do now.

So it catches him off guard when you surge forward to lace your hands with his. Carmine drips from his claws, pattering the floor in tiny drops. He stares at you with pupils blown wide.

“You’re my friend. Why would I find this side of you ugly? Just because you’re not at your best doesn’t mean it’s weird or bad.”

And isn’t that the worst? 

Jade’s lungs constrict when he kisses you. You try to jerk away, but he holds firm. Your lips part only briefly, and you manage a squeak of protest before he reclaims the space with ravenous intent. Your whines are swallowed whole as he all but devours your mouth like a famished animal. Sharp teeth click against your blunt ones. Jade laps at the back of your throat, savoring every gasp. You press against his chest in a weak struggle.

“S-Sto—wait. Jade—”

But even those words become appetizers for the feast that’s soon to follow.

It’s because I’m your friend that you place your trust in me. Thus, it will hurt all the more when I take that trust and crush it beneath my heel.

He’s never felt more alive, his body buzzing with exhilaration. When he pulls back, breathless and panting, you’re still reeling. He doesn’t give you any time to recuperate, for he tugs you along down the shadowed halls of Octavinelle.

You dig your heels against the tile. “Please wait! I don’t understand. What are you—”

You’re yanked forward again, and the rest of that sentence trickles into reserved silence. You hurry to keep pace with Jade as he drags you towards a door. A large indoor pool, dimly lit by the lights above, greets the both of you once it’s opened.

With furrowed brows, you glance at Jade. He’s looking right back, but it’s a strange gaze. He’s ready to pounce, just barely holding on to nonexistent restraint, every muscle riddled with tension.

“Sometimes we’re permitted to use this area for personal reasons,” Jade explains, shutting and locking the door with magic.

“Personal reasons… Like what?”

He smiles, watching the shiver roll though you. “Nothing against the rules, I assure you.”

“Right… Look, Jade, at the very least…” You wring your hands. “Um… Could you at least get in the water? I’m worried your potion’ll wear off any second now, and there’s no way I can lift you myself.”

“Your concern is much appreciated.”

He places one webbed hand on your shoulder, the other situated at your lower back. In one fluid swoop, he gathers you in his arms. You don’t have time to yell at him to put you down because he’s already striding over to the poolside.

“I do hope you’ll forgive my temperament. I confess I’m a touch impatient.” A lopsided smile strains on his flushed face. 

“Jade, don’t you dare—”

Your scream cuts through the air, echoing off the walls. He tosses you into the water without decorum. Jade sheds what’s left of his already tattered uniform and dives in just as the rest of his mer features overtake his human shell. Salt sprays around you in a resounding splash when you, coughing and spluttering, break the surface.

Jade watches your feet kick back and forth as you paddle towards the edge. The motions are hypnotic. What pretty, fragile limbs…

Gliding through the water with minimal effort, he circles you like a moon hopelessly devoted to remaining within your orbit. His hand wraps around your ankle, and he pulls you beneath the water to meet him. You struggle in his grasp, kicking and thrashing, but he doesn’t let that deter him.

Jade cradles your face in his hands. “So pretty… Like a pearl,” he clicks, his words musical and foreign to your human ears. “My treasure.”

He captures your lips in a mystifying kiss. Clumsily, his deft fingers work to peel your clothes from your person. You push back just as your bra is unclasped, gasping for air, and he allows you to surface after nearly a minute. He comes up with you, drunk off the taste of you. The world could be ending just beyond the confines of this pool and it wouldn’t even matter to him. Not right now, at least. Not when he’s at the verge of vehemence. So close. He’s so close.

“W-What’s up with you?” You cling to the pool wall, chest heaving. He follows your hand as it moves to cover your mouth. “You’re not usually like this.”

“Does it bother you?” He swims closer, effectively pinning you to the wall. He presses his nose to the dip between shoulder and neck and hums. With a boyish giggle, he smiles again. “You smell so pretty…”

“Jade…” You pat his head. “Jade.”

“Hm?”

“I… I’m flattered. Really, I am. But we can’t do this.”

He detaches himself to look at you. “We can’t?”

This time, unlike in the past, he isn’t playing dumb for the fun of it.

“I’m sorry, Jade. I think you’re a great friend, but that’s it. I tried to tell you earlier, but you wouldn’t let me.”

So that’s how you feel.

He’s cold-blooded by nature, but somehow this confession chills him more than the Northern waters ever could.

Just a friend.

“Ah. Is that so? My apologies for overstepping a boundary.”

You turn towards the wall to hide your exposed chest. “I-It’s fine…”

He admires the water droplets cascading down the slope of your shoulders. Winter woes and mating season make for a devastating combination, and Jade is the tsunami who will tear through you with reckless, remorseless abandon.

A clawed finger taps at your cheek. Defiant, you keep your gaze pinned ahead. “Are you, by chance, embarrassed?”

“O-Of course I am! Please close your eyes and don’t peek until I’m out of the pool.” With one arm held over your chest, you fish through the water in search of your waterlogged clothes.

Jade takes hold of your empty hand, marveling at how small yours is compared to his. So precious. I could hold this hand forever…

“There’s no need to be shy. Nudity is commonplace where I’m from.”

“Well, it’s not like that up here. Not always, at least.” You swallow thickly. “Please don’t look…”

“That’s tantamount to asking someone not to admire artwork in a museum.” Gently, he coaxes you away from the wall and into his chest. “You deserve to be cherished in full. Is that not why land-dwellers sculpt the human body?”

“That’s different!”

“How so?”

Please, (Name), you’re driving me wild. Please just let me love you. Please. It’s all I want.

“Most of them are representations of deities and other important symbols.”

“In that case, I am but your humble devotee.”

You roll your eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“No? Then how about this instead?”

Jade turns over on his back in the pool. You’re tugged along for the ride, settled on his chest like a turtle resting on driftwood. His arms wrap around you. Stubborn—an adjective known to describe Jade on occasion.

“Now I won’t see a thing.”

His smile is too cheeky for your liking, but that’s the last thing you’re thinking of. His hands creep down the expanse of your back. You yelp when he squeezes your asscheek. 

“H-Hey! Watch where you’re touching!” Your expression is meant to be threatening, but all it does is earn you a gentle laugh.

“Forgive me. My hand slipped.”

“Yeah, right. You’re not slick.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a retort. Instead, he floats aimlessly on his back. You press yourself to his toned body and silently hope he can’t feel your hardened nipples.

“Can you bring me back to the edge?”

“I can.”

Just not the edge you’re thinking of.

“Will you?”

“Eventually.”

It’s spoken like a promise, a sweet sigh. You don’t believe him for a second.

Once more, his hand dips lower than it should to rub against your bare pussy. You flinch out of your skin, sucking in a deep breath. His whimsical laughter is more grating than nails on a blackboard.

“Oops.”

You want to throw yourself into the water, but that would risk giving him an unintentional show and that’s the last thing you want. So you squeeze your eyes shut and, body taut, lie still. 

“Can you—will you tell me what’s going on?”

“I will.”

You wait for him to continue, but he chooses to bask in the silence instead. If you weren’t trapped in his embrace, you’d throttle him. Or try to, at least. He’s all muscle in this form, and it would be so easy for him to subdue you if he felt so inclined. The result of a wrestling match with a moray isn’t exactly in your favor.

Groaning in defeat, you play right into his game: “Can you tell me?”

“Allow me to show you.”

He propels himself backwards, his tail fin cutting smoothly through the water. You’re taken from the shallows to the deepest end of the pool. His hands find your waist and, with startling ease, he helps you up so that you’re sat just above his slit. It brushes against your pussy every time you shift. Minding his claws, he digs his fingers into your thighs to keep you still. You hurry to cover yourself with your arms, hoping to preserve what’s left of your decency.

“Many mers prefer spring and summer climates.”

“Because the water’s warmer?”

“That’s part of it.” His hands crawl up your waist to close around your arms. Gently, he pulls them away from your chest. His eyes stick to your breasts, but you can’t muster the courage to fight him. “The water is warm and food is plentiful. The perfect time to find a willing mate.”

“So this is—you’re in…heat, basically?”

“It’s rather unbearable if left untreated.”

“You say that like it’s an illness…” Shaking your head, you sigh and offer a sympathetic grimace. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can help. I don’t know the first thing about moray mating!”

“I wouldn’t say that. You possess all the proper equipment. It’s merely a matter of body language, really. Think of it like dancing,” he assures, petting your inner thigh. You watch his fingers inch closer and closer to your pussy, and with an embarrassed gasp you place your hand over it. “Won’t you be a dear friend and help a poor moray in need? I would be very grateful to have your assistance. In fact, I would be in your debt. Isn’t that most advantageous?”

“No way! Ask someone else.”

“I would if I could, but this isn’t the type of issue one can treat so carelessly. Selecting a mate is of great importance in the sea.”

“So go to the sea and do it.”

“We’re already there.” He chuckles at the dubious glower you give him. “As it happens, Octavinelle’s surrounding territory is entirely oceanic. How fortunate for us.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

My dear pearl, I treasure you something fierce, but you’re wearing my patience painfully thin.

“Why not?”

“Didn’t you just say picking a mate is super special?”

He hums, wondering if you’re feigning ignorance for the sake of the situation or if you’re genuinely this lost. It’s likely the latter. After all, you accepted his invitation to mate without even knowing it.

“It’s a special occasion, yes. Many mers have new partners every summer. Sometimes they remain and other times the tide carries them along, bringing in new opportunities with every changing season.”

“And finding the one who sticks is the goal?”

“For some of us.”

“So what about you?” You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “You’re speaking for everyone but yourself, Jade.”

Jade flushes. Your perceptive words are pointed, stabbing through thick skin to reach his heart. It isn’t often someone parts all of his curtains to peer at the truth.

“I would like that,” he admits, soft and sweet, almost demure. “Someone who sticks, as you’ve put it.”

You watch his face carefully, but there’s no lie to find. With his pinched brow and shimmering coloration, so much so it’s as if he’s been set aflame, you steel your nerves. He brightens the dark pool with his light, a beacon on still waters. Jade looks right back. The eye contact is heady—more hypnotic than a swaying pendulum. He waits for you to make the first move, as is customary in his courtship, but when you don’t react he begins to suspect it’s the opposite for yours.

But then you find your voice. So words are valued in human courtship. I see…

“If I help with this… W-What exactly happens? What does it mean?”

Jade knows his pearl isn’t stupid, but sometimes he really has to wonder.

“It means—” he takes the hand that had been previously protecting your nudity and pulls it away, fingers intertwining— “we would copulate like every animal does.”

“I… I’m not sure.”

“I’ll be very gentle.”

“Still…”

“You have my word.”

“I know. I understand. But—”

“It’s my first time as well.”

You stare at him, astounded by the revelation. “Really?”

“Indeed. So I ask that you forgive my boorish insistence. I’m usually very prepared for my season, so it’s a shock it’s come so early.”

“Yeah, that’s weird. I wonder if it’s because you’re a human. Maybe something with your transformation?” Your breath catches in your throat when he presses two slender fingers against your clit. “H-Hold on… If you touch there—”

Jade’s mismatched eyes sparkle when he looks at you, wet with tears. “Please,” he murmurs, resting his head back against the water. “Please, (Name)…”

You’ve never known Jade to cry or beg outright, let alone utter that single word in such a submissive tone. He’s so vulnerable, an image curated for this very occasion. Not that this is imperative information you absolutely must know.

With slumped shoulders, you glance elsewhere. “I’m not so sure…”

Jade considers himself fortunate to have his wits about him, otherwise he would have already had you plastered to the pool tiles, his cock thrust up in your tight pussy.

“I understand my size in this form may seem rather intimidating, but I’m still myself.”

“I know. But…”

“You can lead. I’ll follow. Almost like a dance.” Taking hold of your hips, he rocks you back and forth as if you’re a doll. Your cunt brushes against his slit and, though it isn’t nearly as euphoric as the actual ordeal, it still sends a wave of carnal relief washing over him. He hums pleasantly, gills fluttering. “Mhm… Like so. It’s simple, isn’t it? Nothing to fear.”

You place your palms against his chest to brace yourself. A reedy breath shakes through you. Jade can see the gears turning. And—oh—how he wishes to be able to poke around your head to understand what it is you’re working through. He’s certain he’d be walking on air if he could hear your innermost monologues: To love or not to love Jade Leech… Or, at present, this would be a better and very humorous phrasing of your secret dialogue: To fuck or not to fuck Jade Leech… 

Even if you don’t love him now, you will later. Just as all life in his terrariums inevitably blooms, so, too, will your affection for him. Patient and persistent care will get him far. He’s sure of that.

You shiver above him, face scrunched and bottom lip bitten to muffle your musical moans. He doesn’t bother hiding his very obvious enjoyment as he guides you along until, eventually, your hips move on their own accord. You grind down against his slit, panting wetly, and he watches your lashes flutter, beautiful like butterfly wings. He admires the divine softness of your nudity, picturesque like that of the Renaissance.

No matter how delicious you are on the eyes, how electrifying it is to have your body pressed to his, it’s still not enough. Jade has half a mind not to buck up to meet your dripping pussy halfway, even if his every sense is telling him he should. Too much force and he’d throw you off into the pool; there’s no telling what he’d do if you were in the water, fully at his mercy. So he allows you to have your fun, deems it polite that you find your end first before he follows. He has to remind himself that you’re not a mer and, thus, you won’t find it very appealing if he succumbs to animalistic urges.

Humans like gentle creatures. Jade is not a gentle creature by nature, but he enjoys masquerading as one.

If it were up to Jade, he would have just taken you for himself ages ago. The minute you looked him in the eyes, he would have grabbed your face in both hands and yanked you up to smash his mouth to yours. And then you’d know there’s more beyond that curtain of placidity.

But that’s not the approach he wants to take.

What he really wants, right now and in this moment, more than anything, is to be inside you, pump you so full of himself that you’ll feel bloated like a whale carcass. Sink his teeth in your throat and taste the blood puddling beneath. Chew you out like you’re nothing more than a squeak toy and he’s your wildly disobedient dog. Dig his claws into your thighs until red ribbons slide down broken skin and cloud the water.

Your yelp brings him back to the present. For a strained second, he thinks he’s hurt you—gone too far and chased you away before the game could even begin. But the source of your startled reaction is easy to pinpoint, for it’s currently prodding at your folds.

“W-What’s that?” you ask around another gasp.

More of Jade’s prehensile cock wriggles free from the safety of his slit. He squeezes his eyes shut to collect himself, hissing through his teeth.

“Most mers are equipped with—mmh—with both sets of…anatomy…” His mind is whirling. He can’t finish that thought. Does it even matter? You’ll understand without the explanation. “It won’t hurt… You can touch it.”

You shake your head and—sevens, you’re lucky he loves you so much or else he wouldn’t have the foresight to be mindful of your inability to breathe underwater. What he’d give to take you below the surface and ignore the world passing above—to spend what little eternity he has rutting into you, tails twining, mouths meeting…

“I shouldn’t… T-That’s your…thing.”

He wasn’t sure you could get cuter, but you do. Surprises are endless with you. He could never tire of this.

“Of course it is. How else am I to copulate without it?” he replies smartly. “It’s called breeding season for a reason, my dear.”

You lift your hips slightly to avoid the tip searching for a home within your gummy depths. Panic paints itself on your face. “W-Wait! You can’t—”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself moments ago. I promise you this will feel even better once it’s inside.”

“That was before I—b-before you…” You swallow thickly, stumbling over your tongue. “There’s no way I can—it looks…too big.”

“Any size is going to seem so if you’ve never taken it before.”

Jade presses two fingers inside your pussy and spreads it. Slick strings from the opening, coating his digits in your arousal. You stiffen and hide behind your hands.

Aah, if only I could devour you right here and now… You’re just too adorable. Are you doing this on purpose?

“You needn’t fret. If my fingers slide in like so, then I’m certain it will be the same for my—”

“I don’t know how mers do it, but if it’s anything like humans…” You shake your head again, adamant. “I don’t wanna get pregnant.”

That’s unavoidable, he wants to say, but that would serve to scare you away.

“We’re incompatible.” Even I’m not certain of that, but it must be false if the mermaid princess could start a family with her human. “Therefore, the risk is nonexistent.”

“Are you sure?”

Not in the slightest.

“Quite.”

Apprehensive, you still refuse to lower yourself onto him. He’s aching, desperate and near-deranged from waiting, and if he were still in his human form he’d be sweating out of his skin. Jade grabs your hips again and, somewhat forcefully, brings you down to meet his tip.

“Please,” he stresses, putting on his best, most convincing pout. “Please, (Name), won’t you help me? I fear I can’t endure any more of this torture.”

You open your mouth, but a trembling breath slips out in place of a protest. Jade’s cock presses against your pussy, gradually delving inside. You almost flop on top of him, the air knocked out of your lungs as he spears you open. Jade grits his teeth. His claws rake across your sides. He has to remain calm, but how can he do that when he’s finally inside you after months of fantasizing? He knows now that his hand could never act as a substitute for the real thing.

To think he was missing something as grand as this all along! No amount of warmth could ever compare to you. You’re an angel who’s just taken him to Heaven.

You gasp again when he slams you down without warning. “Ooh…”

He heaves a shaky, satisfied sigh. Tears dot his lash line. He’s never known relief so strong. It wraps tightly around his cock, squeezing like a vise. If not your mind, your body definitely agrees to this connection. You’ve taken him so well. Surely you wanted this all along. It was just convoluted courtship, a messy tangle of misunderstanding. You want him to knock you up—to stuff you over and over until you can’t fit anything else.

Oh, if only he had eggs. If only he could give you a clutch.

Next time, he thinks, and he means it.

“See?” he says, finding his voice. It comes out breathless, like he’s just been squeezed dry. Not yet. Soon, though. He’s sensitive, and it betrays whatever image he hoped to curate by seeming unbothered. You’re supposed to fall apart first, yet here he is on the verge of coming undone. “You’ve fit every inch. I surmise you could fit even more.”

“I don’t want to!” You lift your body, but it’s a silly endeavor. His cock twitches and curves up against your walls. You and Jade groan in unison, your eyes squeezed shut. “We should’ve just gone to—haa—Professor Crewel and let him handle this…”

“Magical intervention would only pause the inevitable. These cycles are easier to manage as they happen. And this—” he helps you grind down against him, to which you do with startling obedience (but then perhaps he’s just strong enough to manhandle and pretend it’s compliance)— “is the best medicine.”

His webbed hand closes around one of your breasts. It’s soft and springy in his grasp. He pinches your nipple experimentally, and you clench around him.

“Ah, do you like being touched here?”

“Mmh—no… Not there. Don’t—ooh!”

“Or perhaps here?” he asks, circling your clit.

“Stop—you can’t…”

“But I already am.”

You muster the energy to glare halfheartedly, but it soon unravels when he drags you up and down once more. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, every lewd, wet slap an addition to your cries. Jade wonders if this is what true inner peace is, for he’s never been more elated. So utterly, indescribably relieved.

You’re just what he needs to weather this cruel winter.

Jade’s mind, once so organized, is a chaotic scramble. You’ve always occupied a majority of his thoughts, but now you’re made front and center. Everything revolves around you at this moment. He even tries to sync his breathing with yours, if only to feel closer to you. As if this bodily connection isn’t already close enough.

You happen to glance at him then. There’s a glaze to your gaze that wasn’t there before. He admires the way it makes you look—the softness in your eyes and the subtle part of your lips. You appear so blissful while you rock yourself on his cock, dragging your hips in jerky motions. He doesn’t think twice about the sloppy nature of your union, for he moves with a singular goal in mind.

He reaches without meaning to, searching for your heartbeat so that it can align with his, and you squeak in surprise when you’re pulled against his chest. Jade’s reminded you’re not a mer when he tries to wrap his tail around your nonexistent one, feeling legs kick out instead. Just like that, ripples run across tranquil waters as you’re flipped over.

Ah. I was too hasty.

You break the surface, coughing and spluttering. He mourns the disconnect immediately, yearning for your warmth again. When he comes up to join you, he’s met with a splash.

“A-At least warn me before you do that!” You mumble the rest of your disappointment, but Jade’s keen ears pick it up anyway. “I didn’t even get to finish…”

Jade chuckles and wipes water from his eyes. His face is bright, burning with joy. “My apologies. I may have gotten carried away.”

“Obviously.” You huff. “Now can you bring me to the edge?”

He winds around you. “It would be my pleasure.”

You’re pressed against the pool wall, legs spread and wrapped around his waist. He braces himself on either side of you, his fingers curling around the ledge. With how strong his grip is, it’s a shock the tiles haven’t cracked under the pressure. You avoid his stare while he pushes in. He listens to your breath stutter, and that’s all it takes to shatter his self-control. He draws away, savors the confusion polluting the air, and then snaps his hips forward to fill you with every inch of his strange, inhuman cock. A strangled moan rips from your throat and you throw your head back, deflating flatly against the floor.

Jade’s brows knit together. He bows his head, gasping into your neck. His teeth are centimeters from unmarked flesh. He wants to bite you, but the sensation of your velvety walls wrapped around his cock is so distracting. He thinks he might faint. It feels too good. So warm. So wet. So tight. Is this really what humans feel like on the inside? Are they always so soft? He feels boneless as he rolls his hips, numb and dumb, mindless like an animal.

That’s really all he’s ever been: an animal enthralled, his sights forever locked on you. He’d do anything to get you to look at him.

Your arms snake around him, and you cling so sweetly, your nails scraping at his back, that he almost cums right then. Your voice is in his ears, wanton and whispery.

“J-Jade… Aah, Jade…” You hold firmly, unyielding, and chant his name like it’s something holy. “Oh, please, Jade!”

You were so averse before. Now look at you. You’re so cute. The cutest, in fact. I want to make you mine and lock you away forever. Your voice, your body, your smile, your everything… It would be mine to admire. A fascination reserved specially for me.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asks, tracing your cheek with a claw.

A fond smile graces his face. You blink up at him. Tears track down your cheeks, but he knows they aren’t woeful. You’re enjoying this just as much as he is. You want him. You like him. You have no choice.

“Feels full…”

“Does it?”

“Mhm.”

That angelic smile fades into something wicked and proud. Full. You’re full. Full of him and, very soon, full of as many loads as he cares to give.

His hand dips between your bodies to nudge at your clit. You choke around a bawdy moan. If he fools himself, he imagines your parted lips are mirroring the same invitation he voiced to you earlier. Maybe it really is. Maybe you’ve finally understood this facet of his language. 

Hypnotized, Jade watches your lips. He doesn’t even register he’s leaning in. You struggle somewhat, but he just kisses you harshly. His tongue slithers past your lips to explore the insides of your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat until you’re digging your nails into his shoulders.

I love you. I love you. I love you and need you and want you. You’re all mine. Finally mine.

Saliva dribbles from your lips when he pulls back. His eyes are blown wide.

All mine.

When he leans in for another kiss, this one more dizzying than the last, he presses his hips to yours, aiming to get as close to your womb as possible. He needs to. Needs to be deeply acquainted with your insides. Needs to flood your empty womb with enough cum to guarantee pregnancy. Needs to knock you up and watch you swell with his child so that you’ll be even softer than you are now. Oh, the beauty of it all is too tantalizing! You’d look so cute, maternity wear stretched taut around your gravid belly. And your tits would grow fat and heavy with milk. He can already picture it: You’d fluster when you leak through your shirt, even more so when he takes your teat in his mouth and drinks his fill. He wonders if you’d call him gross, a pervert, a freak… Would you do so if he asked?

Would you hate him if you knew all of the depraved fantasies that flit around in his head?

Maybe. The lack of linear clarity excites him. Endless possibilities. He wants to know all of them.

He wants to—

With a wheeze, he cums quick and hard, lashes fluttering and vision whiting out. Your body flinches beneath him, caught in the throes of pleasure as you, too, ride out an orgasmic wave.

He comes to moments later, his heart racing, and rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s…it, right?” you mumble, running your fingers through matted hair. “It’s over, isn’t it?”

Jade tries a shy smile. “On the contrary, we’re only just beginning. A mer’s season isn’t over until they’ve emptied everything, heart and soul, into their mate.”

Can he really call his dick his heart and soul? Maybe. It sickens him with a wild delight.

No matter how many rounds, he’s going to love you until you’re thoroughly worn out.

You don’t have a choice.

But then you already love him, don’t you?

You will by the end of this.

And suddenly he doesn’t feel so bad anymore. Suddenly, he’s no longer embroiled in the sticky shackles of winter woes.

[seoulbye]

GINGERBREAD HOUSE | NANAMI KENTO

syn. nanami never made himself to be a jack of all trades, but he thought building a gingerbread house would be this difficult.

── nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, slight food play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, heavy doting & lots of kissing, sickeningly sweet & loving smut | 4.0k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact )

note. this was my submission for my cookbook collaboration. . . please take this as an apology.

He squinted heavily as he held the piping bag, constantly shifting and moving his hold on it as he tried to remain steady. Heart racing as he held his breath, he glanced your way. You were well-concentrated at the task at hand as well, eyebrows knitted together as your tongue poked out. Your piping bag held accurately as you’re already on the next side of the gingerbread house, the semi-circular shingles of the roof perfectly aligned with white frosting. How are you doing it so perfectly? 

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say. You didn’t need to look at Nanami's way to feel the tense air, how his hands trembled and practically shook the table, calling you to be extra careful in this friendly competition. 

You had bought two sets of gingerbread houses, elated when you saw them at the store while grocery shopping a couple of days ago. You didn’t think twice about it then, coming home to spark up the idea of seeing who can make better gingerbread houses. You knew that Nanami was always down for whatever, making sure to align time in his schedule to accommodate you, his lovely wife. 

Initially when he agreed, he didn’t think it could be so hard to decorate huge chunks of cookie, thinking it would be an easy challenge. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he did have a competitive side to him. You knew that, even though he always tried to deny it, so seeing him now, struggling over something and the anxiety of possibly losing protruding off of him, was quite comical. “Just… relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nanami grumbles, a vein running along his forehead as his face reddened from absentmindedly holding his breath. “Yours looks perfect.” 

There it is, you giggled to yourself, a devious smile on your face as you kept your eyes on your gingerbread house. You had to admit to yourself, it was coming out better than you initially thought it would. You don’t blame your husband for his envy— not one bit. However, you wouldn’t be a good wife if you gloated, but then again, no couple was perfect. “It is, isn’t it?”

Finally, you look over at your husband’s side of the table, taking in the horrendous sight that is his gingerbread house. You had to swallow back your laughter as your eyes slightly bulged out. He had gotten it to stand on the four walls, but it was lopsided. It was as though if you were to blow on it with one huff, it would fall down. The icing was in disarray, deeply contrasting from your tidy and curved strokes, as his went in every which direction they wanted to and most of it was smudged. It was a disastrous sight that Hansel and Gretel would never step foot into. 

“Yours, on the otherhand…” You trail off with a playful grimace, biting on your bottom lip as you dragged out a “hmmmmm…”

Nanami dropped his piping bag down at your teasing, face falling in a deadpan expression that wanted to crack when he saw you trying to hold in your laughter. The corners of his lips curved up as he crossed his arms. “I’m starting to think you wanted me to fail.”

You faltered, a grin plastered on your face as your nose scrunched up. “No, I didn’t.”

There was some truth in your admittance. You never started this to see Nanami be bad at it, only wanting to draw out that competitive nature he subdued so much. You enjoyed seeing the fire in his eyes when he felt like he was going to win, how he’d get so motivated to do something. However, he was also a cute sore loser and he’d silently sulk throughout the day because of his loss. But, most of all, you just wanted to spend some quality time with your husband as the holidays drew near and his work days became longer. Building these gingerbread houses together was a way to be together. 

“Mmm,” Nanami hums in faux pondering as he draws near you, caging you against the table. “No, I think you did.”

You set down your piping bag next on the table, feeling Nanami’s hands pull you into him as you giggle, shaking your head in protest. “No, you’re just bad at this.”

He cocks up an eyebrow, still questioning your true intentions. One hand slithers away from your waist, reaching further behind you to swipe away at your frosting. You watch his actions, gasping as he messes up your fine work. You push at his chest, watching how he sucks off his fingers with a hearty chuckle despite your “hey!” You pout as your husband tries to go for another swipe, but you slap away his hand just in time. “Just because your work is botched, doesn’t mean you can make mine the same.”

“Don’t worry,” Nanami hums. “I’ll fix it back for you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as he snickers. “Oh, you mean, you’ll just ruin it even more. No, thanks.”

“What are we even supposed to do with them afterwards? Eat them?” Nanami asks, not used to your western customs.

“No,” you snort. “Throw them away. Gingerbread houses taste disgusting.”

“What?” he asks, shocked. “So, you just bought these to let them get on my nerves and then throw them away?”

“I love it when you get all whiny,” you comment, before shaking your head. “But, no. I bought them because I thought it would be a fun thing to do. I didn’t expect you to fail so badly.”

“Y’know, you could’ve sugarcoated it a bit,” Nanami frowns, leaning into you, his breath dancing against your skin. “Make me feel like I didn’t do half as bad as I actually did.”

“I could’ve,” you frown, meeting him halfway, feeling the heat of each other’s skin. “‘M sorry.”

“You’re all forgiven,” Nanami chuckles. He loves the taste of you against his lips, how when he reaches up to caress your face, it melds so well into his hands, like you’re just the perfect fit. He loves how you just melt into him no matter what, putting in all the trust in him that he’ll keep you afloat. Whenever he kisses you, he feels whole— like both of you are sharing one breath. 

He pulls you closer into him, hands wrapped around your waist, tugging at the silk fabric of your robe, bunching it up together as he grips you tightly. Your nails dig through the cotton of his t-shirt, arms wrapped around his neck as you meet his love with your lips. You sigh in contempt, tasting the sweetness of the frosting on his tongue as he explores you. It pulls a moan from your tantalizing lips, making him want more in a matter of seconds the longer the two of you stay like this. 

And he feels like the sun in your arms, the heat of his skin wrapped around you like a comfortable weighted blanket. They hold you with security, even as they begin to travel down your body. The palm of his hands are smooth, fingers behind your lower thigh before hoisting your leg up to his waist. Nanami grounds himself into you, his growing erection becoming more prominent with the seconds passing. You’re so willing to reciprocate your name, hips bucking into him as your nails dig continue digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

Nanami hoists you up on the table, fingers digging into your lower back as he becomes needier for you as he leans further into you. You nearly lose your balance, hands hitting Nanami’s ruined art and tumbling down. Both of you retract and you can’t hold back the snort that leaves you while Nanami playfully rolls his eyes. “You just had to go and make it worse.”

“It’s your fault,” you giggle, bringing your hand to taste the frosting that’s got on you. Nanami watches carefully, watching how your tongue sticks out sucking off the sweet and white dessert off of your fingers. It has his cock twitching inside of his pants, wanting nothing more than to have you right on this table. Instead, however, he nips at your bottom lip, his brown eyes hooded. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Chaste little kisses that traverse from the corner of your lips to your cheeks and down to the nape of your neck, each one filled with his love and need for you as he takes more time with each one. He adjusts the bonnet on your head, moving it out of his way as he hyper-fixates on this one particular spot. Your breathing becomes staggered, a moan being pulled from your lips as your grip on your husband tightens. “Is— Is this my pr-prize… for winning?”

He creates a dark blotched spot on your delicate skin, prideful of his marvelous work as he pulls away. He inhales you, his nose drawing a line to the crevice of your breasts, smelling the faint scent of the twisted peppermint body mist that you sprayed on in the early morning after stepping out of the shower. He finds everything about you addicting, finds every nook and cranny of your body to be a perfection that he’s been blessed to have. He’s not ignoring you on purpose, so caught up in everything that’s you that he’s momentarily forgotten what was even asked. “It could,” he hums. “If you want it to be.”

“I’d like it to,” you breathe. 

“Then, I better do a good job, huh?” Nanami chuckles, retreating back to your cleavage. His fingers play with the silky string of your robe before it falls with the rest of the garment, the sleeves of it slipping off of your shoulders, revealing your bare upper body to be marveled by your husband. He creates dark blotches in your skin, covering them in his love marks as he takes his precious time. Arousal pools from you, and with your lack of clothing and certainly your lack of underwear, it drips from your sweet cunt down to the fabric underneath as it remains untouched for the time being. 

You remain as salacious as you’ve been since the first time he’s tasted you, lips wrapping around your left areola, tonguing at your dark nub with such a dangerous need that you fear you might lactate. He always finds himself enamored with your body, where he could spend hours if you allowed him, fixated with a specific area. For an ample amount of time, his lips jump from one breast to another to create sweet hickeys and plastering his love onto your nipples— kissing, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin before you have to forcefully pry him off you.

“Kento…” you whine, finally managing to pull him away. Gently connecting foreheads, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, a sweet one that lasts for a mere couple of seconds before you’re retracting once more. “Kento…”

“What?” he grumbles, his voice coarse as he frowns. “Why won’t my wife let me love on her?”

“Because your wife has other places she wants to be loved on, too,” you pout, lolling your head to the side. 

“Have I ever told you that patience is a virtue?” Nanami hums, pulling at your bottom lip with his. You can’t help but nudge him.

“Yeah, and too much can hurt you,” you retort. “So, I don’t think it’s best to keep me waiting much longer.”

He snorts at your rebuttal, but giving into your needs nonetheless as he drops to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him and shifting your robe out of the way to reveal your beautiful pussy. Oh, how it glistens with your love for him, your juices decorating your folds in something sweeter than the gumdrops and candy-coated chocolate pieces laying in bowls. His painfully hard cock sitting in his pants stirs in need for you as he drags your hips closer to the edge of the table. A whisper comes out, “You’re so wet for me.”

“Aren’t I always,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip as you shimmy your hips closer to him in anticipation. 

In every moment that he spends with you, Nanami cherishes it, always thinking that he’s the luckiest guy to have a partner that is as amazing as you. He holds so much love for you that it’s suffocating. A deep fire that settles on his chest, where times like these are detrimental. You have to catch yourself, nearly screaming out in fright when Nanami pulls you down to give your cunt a taste. Your heart races from the quick scare as well as the feeling of the wet pink muscle that glides against your clit. The dark nub that pulsates in its pleasure as Nanami has a tight hold on you, leaving you secure in his arms. 

He’s so gentle with your pussy, the way he laps at it. Soft and tandem kisses placed with the utmost care before his tongue dives in between your folds, loving the way your juices pour out on his tongue. You’re insatiable, your pussy calling out his name as he plants feverish kisses on it. He salivates, further lubricating your cunt as he hums and moans against you. He ignores the ache in his knees, the pain of the marble tiles already biting him in the ass. 

Your moans are high-pitched and proving to be torture to your dear husband’s erection as precum leaks from his urethra, the tip of it rubbing against the cotton restraints of his boxer briefs. Your body struggles to decide what it wants, twisting and squirming but ultimately wanting more. Your arms grow weak as you try to find leverage, this time knocking down your own gingerbread house as you hear the pieces beginning to fall. Hand covered in frosting, you’re about to wipe it off on the table when you feel Nanami’s strong arms wrap around your waist, retracting his lips from you. 

“Don’t,” he says, taking your hand and putting it to his lips. The sultry sight only continues to make your pussy salivate, your slick dribbling down in a web pointed towards the ground as you watch Nanami clean you off, only leaving a wet trail of his spit behind. A ‘fuck’ falls from you as your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you buck your hips out. The action sparks an idea in Nanami’s mind, his piping bag reaching lengths where he only has to stretch out and grab it without much effort. 

Your eyes follow him, where the moment it’s in his hands, you can already see the gears shifting inside of his mind. Nanami fixes you back on the table, a few drops of frosting hitting the ground before letting out a sigh. “Lay down for me?”

All it takes is a quick nod from you before Nanami’s helping you lay down, shifting the confectionate houses aside to have you well situated, guiding you to lay down without hitting your head or anything stabbing you in your back.

With the piping bag in hand, he raises it as the contents continue to drip and fall down, making a mess that’ll wait to be cleaned up. You can’t help but giggle, smiling as you peer up at your husband. “Y’sure you know what you’re doing with that?”

“For someone who wants her prize,” Nanami starts, “You’re sure working on losing it fast.”

“You wouldn’t dare stop.”

“I would.” He doesn’t however, using the piping bag to draw horrible art against your bare skin. It tickles, making your body flex and contract when the frosting touches you. You can’t control the small giggles and laughs that fall from your lips. And it’s so contagious as Nanami can’t help but join in with you. He’s painted a masterpiece in his eyes, drawing the shape of you as white traverses from your lips to the shape of your breasts down to your thighs. You look marvelous in his eyes, only a treat waiting to be devoured in its fullest glory. He feels like a god with you being his pretty little offering, prepped by his people. 

The wooden table creaks with his weight, leaning down to capture you. The frosting smudges, his tongue reaching to eat the delicacy. It’s a messy sight, one that an artist would be captivated to capture on their canvas, watching how Nanami inches downward. Your hands go to tangle themselves in his blonde locks, massaging his scalp as he creates more darkened artwork into your neck. 

The salt of your skin mixed with the sweet sugar is a combination perfection as he goes and goes further down your body. He grabs at your thighs, the frosting that covers them sticking to him but not something he’ll fret about now as he grounds himself against your wet pussy. And when he’s truly satisfied, believing that he’s baptized you in his spit, the white that contrasts the skin of your upper thighs still waits to be devoured. They’re clean in a matter of seconds as Nanami’s patience wears thin, your legs back open as the vulnerable are exposed to his taking. Some of the frosting has found its way to the curls of your pubes, which Nanami has no shame in wiping clean. He takes a moment to inhale you, his nose nuzzling into the warmth of you before kissing your clit.

“Gosh,” he groans. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

You bring yourself to sit up as Nanami comes back to his feet. He strips himself of the t-shirt, the excess frosting making a mess of his face in the process. Before he can get himself out of his pants, you’re pulling him by the back of his neck. Your tongue sticks out, swiping at the grains of frosting on his cheek. “So are you.”

You suck the air out of him, always managing to have stars form in his eyes. These subtle things that you’re not aware of all the time, whether it’s something as mundane as cooking dinner or now, where you have somehow managed to one-up him at his own game. He’s completely bare in a matter of seconds, panting pooling at his feet before he’s kicking them off and his cock springs free. His tip is red in need as his length stands prominent against his abdomen. His tip kisses your clit before it pokes at your entrance.

“C’mon, Kento.” Your hands tremble in anticipation, where you have to hold your weight using your elbows. 

“You’re so impatient, doll,” he breathes. Despite the statement, the head of cock is quick to push through your entrance, making you mewl out from the stretch. No matter how many times he’s been sheathed inside of you, you’re as tight as the day he first had you. Your juices make it easy with each and every push of his length inside of you, not stopping until his pelvis meets yours. He has to take a moment to bask in your heart, how your sweet pussy envelopes his cock in a vice grip that’s addicting and never making him want to leave.

Your legs wrap around his waist, making him go deeper inside of you, finally pulling him away from your pussy enchantment. Retracting his hips until only the tip is in you, he thrusts back inside. His movement is languid, cock digging sweetly into your walls. Your head falls back as your hips roll in a deep need for him. Your back arches off the table as your mouth falls into the shape of an ‘O.’ Each thrust is a calculated one, careful as he wants you to memorize his love by the way he moves his cock. From shallow ones that have you begging for more to deep thrusts that hit that special spot inside, having you squeak out your moans. “Kento…”

He pulls you to sit up, your chest pressing against his as he hikes up one leg to the table, getting deeper and deeper within you. His forehead touches yours, nose meeting nose as your breaths dance together. His brown eyes stare into your glossy ones, a deep need for each other being shared as you hold eye contact. “Yes, my love? Am I upholding my promise to you?”

You nod, a stray tear dropping down onto the dark wood. “Y-Yes,” you cry. “You always make me feel so good. I—I love you so much.”

“Yeah?” He asks, to which you nod again. “I love you, too. So much more, in fact.”

You want to negate his statement, but he captures you for a kiss to silent you. He knows you all too well, swallowing away the thought from your mind completely as he fucks you on his cock.  Arms wrapped around him, you grind your hips down as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach. Butterflies dance around in there as you feel your cunt pulsate, squeezing Nanami’s length at your impending orgasm. You mewl against his lips, not having to say a word to signal what’s to come. He can feel himself approaching as well, your near orgasm always calling for him to join alongside you whenever he’s inside you. 

His thrusts grow rougher, bringing your hips down with force as he chases for euphoria. Your body tenses up, feeling that band snap as you cry out against his lips. Finally, Nanami pulls away as you cream around his cock. 

“Kento,” you cry, repeating his name like a mantra as you can’t find any other word besides it. 

“I got you, my love,” Nanami pants as you paint the base of his cock in a milky white as his cock twitches inside of you, spilling his seed in the depths of you. The smooth rhythm becomes sloppy as he rides out his high inside of you before pulling out and having you rest on the table. When your heartbeat slows and the hearts from your eyes dissipate being brought back to reality, you feel Nanami’s head against your chest. You can feel it, his copious amount of cum dripping out of you, smearing against Nanami’s skin. You moan at the loss as your hands travel to Nanami’s blonde hair. 

From your peripheral vision, you can see your work shoved to the far corner of the table as you remember what exactly sparked this chain of events. It reminds you of how in Nanami’s misery, you might’ve had an unfair trick right up your sleeves. Reverting your eyes, your finger combs through his hair as a sigh leaves you. It sparks Nanami's concern, picking up his head to glance at you. “Something on your mind so soon, or are you just basking in the present?”

“If I’m being honest,” you gnaw on your bottom lips, eyes averting Nanami’s at your soon confession. “I did practice with the piping bag while you were at work.”

You were expecting for him to be shocked, perhaps a bit mad at your “cheating,” but if anything, Nanami wasn’t either of those. Instead, with a gentle nod, he hums. “I expected much.”

“You did?” your eyes widen. “How?”

“Babe, you couldn’t icing a cake two weeks ago,” Nanami deadpans. “You’re expecting me to believe that you mastered the talent miraculously?” 

“Hey!” you playfully slap at his chest. “I could’ve just been lucky today!”

Nanami shakes his head, silently telling you, not a chance, before looking over at your gingerbread house. It’s tumbled into pieces for sure, but some of your work doesn’t go under-appreciated by the mess. 

“Now, that I’m looking closer,” he smirks. “It doesn’t look as good as I had originally thought it did.”

“Now you’re just trying to get under my skin.” You pull your arms from around him, crossing them around your chest. Nanami chuckles, nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck. 

“If I wanted to do that, I would just start fucking you again, darling.”

( 🛢 ) : @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network @satsattoru

[it-happened-one-fic]

Twisted Weddings: Photoshoot #1 - Quite the Image

Summary: Your first photoshoot was going to be with Trey. The question was whether the presence of the bicycle or exactly how good he looked in a suit was more startling, and the bicycle really seemed to be winning. Either way, you could only hope your first attempt at modeling went pseudo-well.

Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ Series/ sfw/ fluff/ light-flirtation

Twisted Weddings Series Masterlist

Word count: 1346

“So… A bike,” Trey eyed the bicycle that was leaned against a pole as I shifted. Doing my best to not continue eyeing him. But, to be fair, I’d never actually seen Trey in a suit before. Much less one that was tailored specifically to make him look his absolute best.

I’d been impressed enough when I’d seen the gown I was wearing. A slim-fitting dress with fluttery, sheer sleeves that could get caught in even the smallest of breezes and made for a rather dreamy-looking dress.

And the embarrassing thing was that I knew that both it and I looked nice. Trey’s reaction could have only been so faked.

I could only hope that I hadn’t been as obvious in my surprise at how nice he looked. At the very least, I knew I hadn’t openly gaped at him.

“Maybe we’re both going to be riding it for the photo?” I stepped over next to Trey. Eyeing the lone visible prop for our photoshoot.

An old-looking bicycle.

Trey shook his head though, a slight frown on his face, “I doubt it. Your skirt might get caught in the wheel or something….”

He trailed off, glancing my way with a half smile as he tilted his head, “It probably would be a cute photo though.”

I nodded, quietly agreeing with him as I did my best to ignore the way the slight breeze ruffled my sleeves as he hummed thoughtfully.

“I guess it could be a picture of us walking together while pushing a bike?” He hardly sounded confident in his theory, but I felt myself nod, crossing my arms slightly as I continued to eye the bicycle.

But unfortunately, there was no telling exactly what Crewel had planned.

“Alright, Pups!” Me and Trey both jerked upright as Crewel strolled out of the building and over to where we were standing. Almost as if he’d been signaled by my thoughts that right now was the perfect time to make his appearance.

Trey and I turned together, both looking towards our instructor, and the man who skittered after him with all sorts of photography-related paraphernalia at the same time. And all at once I realized this was actually happening. As if the wedding clothes hadn’t been enough.

I was going to be featured heavily as a model in a photoshoot for Crewel’s latest designs for bridal clothes.

Trey and I briefly exchanged glances before we looked back towards our instructor who stopped in front of us. Almost as if we were thinking the same thing. But neither of us spoke as Crewel began to explain.

“I’m sure the two of you have already realized that you have this bicycle as your prop,” Crewel gestured idly to the bicycle, and we both nodded. With me glancing back at it and idly wondering exactly how this was going to work.

Me and Trey both looked towards Crewel for explanation, though. But both of us knew that Crewel was going to tell us how we were going to be posed and what we were going to be doing.

And he wasted no time in doing just that, “Good. Y/n. You get on the bike first. Trey, you’ll be behind them and actually pedaling.”

Trey hesitated slightly, glancing over at me worriedly before he looked towards Crewel, “But… Professor, won’t Y/n’s skirt get caught in the wheels?”

Crewel’s eyebrows arched at the young man next to me, and I shifted, idly scooting backwards as Crewel crossed his arms and eyed Trey, “Y/n is going to be riding side-saddle, Mr. Clover. Her skirt is slim-fitting and will take care of itself.”

Trey nodded, his eyes widening slightly before he turned, his gaze barely meeting mine as he made a slight face before reaching over and rolling the bike over so that I could perch on it carefully. All while Crewel continued.

“Both of you will need to ignore the photographer. He’s going to be snapping pictures the very moment the two of you are on the bike, but you need to pretend like he isn’t here. Do NOT look at the camera.”

I nodded lightly, balancing myself carefully. And the very moment I was balanced, Trey was on the bike behind me, bumping me slightly as he muttered apologies, and I shook my head. Scooting forward to try and give him more only to almost slide off the seat.

I could hear the camera snapping in the background as Trey caught me with an arm around my waist, laughing slightly as I gripped the handlebars in front of me and he pushed off.

The bicycle wobbled as he pedaled, and I tried to steer us in a reasonably straight path before he reached forward and grabbed the handle-bars as I slowly got tickled at exactly how bad we were doing.

But it was like something as simple as riding a bicycle had suddenly become impossibly difficult now that we were being looked at. 

My arms rested lightly on the front of the bicycle as I giggled, my laughter causing Trey to start chuckling behind me even as I heard Crewel release a sigh of long suffering as we came to a stop. Both of us laughing as the bicycle rocked to the side for what had to be the thousandth time.

I leaned back, sighing slightly as I twisted to see Crewel walking towards us before I glanced at Trey, “Think we’re in trouble?”

He shook his head, a smile still on his face as he offered a only slightly guilty-looking half shrug. But before either he or Crewel could speak, the photographer was piping up.

“Mr. Crewel, I actually got some good shots there!” Crewel stopped, his eyebrows arching as he looked at the photographer with almost the same degree of surprise as I felt.

Nonetheless, the man trotted over, showing Crewel the screen of his camera as he spoke, “All of these pictures show a certain degree of happiness wedding photos don’t often have due to how staged they are. These two actually look like a happy young couple having some fun on their big day.”

Crewel nodded as he looked through the pictures before pointing at one in particular, “This one.”

Apparently understanding, the photographer nodded, “Yes, I liked that one too. The way he’s smiling down at the young lady is particularly nice here, and they are just starting to laugh.”

“The wind also caught both the sleeves and the edge of the skirt nicely too,” Crewel paused, looking up at us with slightly arched eyebrows. “It looks like you’ve both lucked up. There are some good pictures here.”

“So we’re free to go?”  Trey looked about as hesitant as I felt, but Crewel nodded. 

“Since the photos are good, you’re done.” He paused, his gaze shifting to me as he tilted his head, “And how do you feel about going ahead and getting another photo-shoot done today, Pup?”

I hesitated before I nodded, “Yeah, that should be fine.”

“Alright then, and good work Mr. Clover,” I felt myself grin over at Trey who looked at me with a sigh. Like he knew perfectly well to expect teasing.

“Looking forward to becoming a poster boy for grooms everywhere?” I nudged with my shoulder as we both walked back towards the campus proper to get changed. Him back into his normal clothes and me into a different wedding gown.

He chuckled, only slightly flustered before he grinned over at me, a glint of meanness entering his honey-colored eyes, “Not as much as I’m looking forward to getting to see everyone else’s faces at the dorm.”

I blinked, tilting my head curiously at him, “You're heading back to the dorm to show the guys your suit?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head, “No. I meant when they see our pictures. Apparently we cut quite the image as a young couple.”

It was a fight not to shove him for his teasing, but I took it with only a slight bit of embarrassment.

After all, he was just quoting the photographer.

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[cyborg-franky]

PROMPT: ⚠️sensitive topic

Cand I please get a drabble of sanji or zoro reacting to readers self harm scars? Thanks

GN Reader - SFW

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

- He knows what they are right away.

- No amount of you telling him otherwise will sway Sanji.

- He holds your hand and fixes you with a look as you stumble and stutter over your words, trying to pour out more excuses and lies.

- Feeling ashamed that he’d asked you about them, knowing what they were, hitting you so solidly in your heart.

- You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes, this was it, he was going to judge you.

- You weren’t ashamed of them; they didn’t embarrass you.

- But that drop in your stomach every time someone asked why you had them.

- You didn’t want to lose love or respect from him.

- The look he was giving you wasn’t one of judgement nor anger, not even pity.

- It was a look of understanding.

- He trailed his gentle fingertips along with them before he lifted your arm, pressing gentle kisses along them.

- Kissing the lines you thought were so ugly like they were just any other part of your body.

- “Sanji..” You tried but he simply kissed along them, his visible eye looking at you as he did so.

- When he stopped kissing, pulling you closer to him instead, kissing your cheek.

- “I know what it’s like, I know what needs to be done to keep yourself grounded. These aren’t a show of weakness, they are just a sign that the battle was hard, but you didn’t lose it, you won, you carried on.”

- You felt your bottom lip tremble before throwing your arms around him, sobbing against Sanji as he held you tightly.

[geminil0vr]

two heads are better than one | fred and george weasley

tldr: your rather salicious friend, fred, is showing you the ropes when his brother walks in. what you don't expect, however, is for him to keep going.

word count: 2.5k

content: very dubious consent. one shot of vodka voyeurism, first time foreplay, cunnilingus, overstimulation, etc!

“Shit, Fred!” 

Your thighs tremble as one of your closest friends pumps a thick finger in and out of you, delivering teasing, kitten licks to your clit. Just ten minutes ago, you confessed to Fred, your friend of eleven months, that no one had ever touched you before, and he took matters into his own hands: quite literally.

As it turns out, this is more than a mere extension of your occasional drunken flirtatiousness: that was child's play, now, nothing more than two friends joking about. You've thought about Fred before, and Fred most certainly about you, but you never imagined he'd be between your thighs, opening you up for him under the guise of 'showing you the ropes'. Sure, you've been in his room before, while his family wasn't home. And sure, he's made cheap jokes about you plenty of times, too. But this time, when he called you a prude and you shot back, revealing a rather vapid sexual history... one thing led to another, and now he's showing you things you've merely dreamed about. It's only meant to be of help, a lesson, experience for the future, but he knows exactly how to touch you, how to make your knees weak and your heart stutter in anticipation. The summer air is stifling, the sensation of him showing you what he can do (or rather 'what he does best', as he claims, and you wouldn't be in much of a place to disagree) suffocating as you arch your back off his checkered duvet, now damp with sweat.

It's weirder than anything to be doing something as dirty as this in his family home, let alone the room he shares with his twin brother: but you'll have to move past that. Thinking too much in a situation like this isn't ideal — you draw your eyes away from George's side of the room. You just need him to keep going.

Seeking some sense of stability, you clutch the bedframe tightly behind your head, knuckles paling. He seems to hit a new spot every second, and you wouldn't dare glance down to see him revelling in what he's doing to you. You attempted that at the start, when he had lowered you onto his bed and carefully removed your shorts. With a few cautious touches to your clit over your underwear, making sure you felt okay with him touching you like this, you simply gave up and flattened against the mattress. Now, your clothing is somewhere across the room and your thighs are slick, patterned with tender bites and kisses from before Fred dived exactly where you wanted him.

He doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful, so out of their own control and into his, quiet moans and gasps escaping your lips as he slides his tongue expertly over your folds. In fact, he might just cum in his jeans, seeing your body spread out for him, tits bouncing in the small, transparent tank top you'd pulled on under your top when you left this morning. Certainly didn't expect the afternoon to turn out like this.

“You can be louder, love,” He grins against you, mouth and chin wet with your slick, and you squint an eye open, propping yourself up to look at him in all his glory. You've never seen anyone this pretty, either. Being so exposed, you flush, attempting to close your legs just as he gingerly presses them down again, hand on one thigh and an elbow on the other, "No one's home."

“Can you —” You gasp when he chuckles at the desperate pitch of your voice, cool air blowing over you and causing your hips to jerk upwards, “— please not refer to your family while you're...”

“Eating you out?” His lips pull into an easy smirk, and before you can speak he blows another, teasing wave of air over your clit. Your hips jolt involuntarily again. You throw your head back and grab a handful of his bright hair, pushing him back lightly.

“Please, Fred.”

“You’re no fun, Y/N.” he retorts playfully, before swiping his tongue once more against you, making you whimper even louder and roll your hips in tandem with him. Curses spill from your lips quietly whenever he catches your clit just right — you need more.

He plants a wet kiss on your thigh, asking for your attention, and you sit up again, cheeks hot and hair mussed from the repeated tossing and turning. You eye him expectantly, brows furrowed in desperation and wanting nothing more than for him to keep going.

“Do you want me to try and add another finger, or d'you think that's too much?”

“Yeah, yes please. More, please.” You mumble, gnawing at your lip and guiding your hips back to his mouth. He smiles, sweeter this time, and nips at your clit. Before long, he's carefully sinking another finger into you. You've never felt this full, and if you weren't so drunk on the feeling of his lips on you, you would be panicking.

“Christ, you’re tight,” He keeps his elbow pressed firmly against one of your flushed thighs, his hand on your other one, still preventing you from closing your legs, “Can you relax for me?”

With his free hand, he trails soft circles on your hip, and you adjust slightly to the stretch, letting his index and middle finger sink a little further into you.

“Fred, have you seen my— oh.”

Always with the excellent timing, George Weasley bursts through the door holding a half-eaten slice of buttered toast in one hand, the door handle in his other.

He pauses in the doorway for a moment, “Blimey. Nice one.”

Fred glances over at him, barely reacting and continuing to open you up despite the fact that you're clamping down on him in embarrassment, "Yeah, thanks, mate."

He leans down and lets a trail of saliva drip itself down to your heat. You freeze in shock as George continues into the room, eyes shifting off your body and to a chest of drawers in front of the two beds. Fred curls his fingers and the moan that catches in your throat propulses you into action: you grasp him by the hair, not too rough, and attempt to push him away.

“What's wrong?” His brows knit together. George is rummaging through the first drawer, clearly frustrated and in search of something.

“Fred, you—” Your chest flushes once more, this time in humiliation, and your stomach caves in and out with each hurried breath, “Your brother is right there!” you hiss.

You squirm under his hold, but he secures a hand around your waist and squeezes so delicately that you almost forget. Any attempt to clench your thighs together is futile: you're mad at Fred, for leaving you exposed; at George, for interrupting; at yourself for clenching around his fingers when you should be wrestling your way off the bed and back into your clothes. The only thing you can do is press your hands over your tits, painfully aware of how see-through your top is. Throughout all of this, George has given up and made his way to sit on his bed, facing you both just a few feet away, munching nonchalantly on his toast and fiddling with a figurine on his nightstand.

“And?” He curls his fingers inside you again and you bite your lip, eyes frantic, caught between crying or grinding your hips further into his palm. Your eyes dart over to George, who's lazily rolling a trinket around in his hand, rubbing at his nose with his wrist.

“What do you mean, and? He's right there!” You spit down at him.

“Does it really matter?” His voice ends up muffled by your folds as he glides his tongue between them, saliva and cum coating his fingers. You whimper desperately, squirming again in pleasure and discomfort.

“Sorry to interrupt," Your head whips to the side as George begins to speak, eyes wide, body tensing, "But, Fred?"

He reluctantly pulls away from you, lips swollen, "Yeah?"

"D'you have any idea where that Muggle... game-thingy, is? The one that Dad brought back the other day?" He finishes his toast.

"What, the Gameguy?" Fred questions.

"Gameboy! That!"

Fred nods heartily and gingerly removes his fingers from you, still covered in slick, to point to a woven basket full of clutter in the corner of the room. You whine.

"Should be in there."

As George gets up, still chewing, your eyes track Fred's fingers to his mouth, where he sucks them clean and opens up your thighs again, hands splayed out. He eyes your swollen clit, your hole clenching around nothing.

"You like that, do you?" Your eyes dart to his, jaw slack.

You barely manage to squeak out a, "What?"

"Tastes sweet." He squeezes your hip, grinning and leaning down to capture you in his mouth once again. You gasp, long ago having given up on covering up, instead holding yourself up as your hands clutch the duvet. Your eyes dart from him to George.

"Fred, please!"

"Please, what?" he mumbles, thighs closing in around his head as he grips your waist, this time letting you.

A whimper is your only response, and you bite down on the side of your hand to keep yourself quiet. At this, he presses your hands to the bed.

"No, love — let me hear you. George doesn't mind, do you George?" The boy in question casts a glance over his shoulder as he digs through the clutter.

"No, really, it's fine!"

Fred quirks a brow at you, "See?"

He buries his face into your sex, 'eating you out' like his life depends on it, and you sob out in need when he pushes one of your thighs away to shove his fingers back inside you again, "Shit!"

George chuckles to himself, glancing at you two again and fiddling with the Gameboy he's finally recovered. Brushing a hand off on his pants, he grabs a wooden chair and sits next to the bed, nonchalantly pressing a few buttons on the game console. Your eyes widen in surprise, only snapping shut when you feel the pressure in your abdomen mounting up.

“God, Fred, enough! Please!” The humiliation racks through your body, and George tossing his Gameboy to the side to lean back in his chair and watch you, so close to coming undone, certainly doesn't help. Fred tries to soothe you by tracing more circles on your hip, but it sets you more on edge than anything with his brother sat right there.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you’re doing great. First time?” George, your friend, the boy you don't often speak to unless involving yourself in the twins' antics or eating with them in the dining hall, smiles softly while you hold yourself back from letting go. You nod meekly, cheeks flaming as your breathing picks up even more. Oh, God.

In search of some form of escape, you turn your head away from George and bury it into a pillow. Fred is relentless, brushing against your g-spot with every curl of his fingers, teeth at times brushing against your clit and making you jump, closer and closer to your orgasm washing over you. You're helpless, at his mercy. Somehow at George's, too.

George leans forward, elbows resting on his jean-clad thighs as his eyes drag from your open legs, to your bouncing tits, to your neck, turned from him, exposed and shining with sweat.

“You’re doing such a good job, Y/N, love. How about you let go for Fred, hm?” George lilts, tone sweet as he leans forward to brush a hand up your side, at the skin of your waist and over your tank top. You look over at him just as Fred scissors his fingers even deeper inside you, vision blurring.

"No, I— shit —" You bite down on your lip as George's fingers brush over your nipple, already raw with arousal, "George —"

“For me? Come on, love. It's okay."

It’s at this moment that you lose all control, senses shutting down and heightening all at once — your body convulses as you cum. You clamp down on Fred's fingers, chest arching into George's touch, crying out. You have no time to come down, however, when Fred doesn't stop, only slowing down slightly, easing up on your clit and in turn leaving more sloppy bites on the insides of your thighs. George's fingers dance their way up under your top, brushing the underside of your breast. You can't help but curve your back further, body writhing.

“Oh God, Freddie, please! I can’t, I can't, I can't —” you sputter weakly, to no avail.

“You don’t wanna cum on my fingers again?” he teases, once more latching onto your clit, eyeing the way your whole body quivers with overstimulation.

“Come on, you can do it, dove. It's okay, just one more,” George's voice calms you, rough hand softly running over your tits, rolling a thumb over your nipple. You bite your fist, then grasp at your tits yourself, not knowing where to put your hands, desperate not to flail. You can feel the warmth of his skin through your top, and the feeling in your abdomen starts up again, “Mhm, that’s it.”

Finally, you're cumming.

“Fuck!” Your other hand shoots up to your mouth, muffling a yell as you succumb to their touch, legs giving in. Now, Fred let’s you ride out your orgasm, being careful of your sensitivity as he pumps his fingers in and out a few more times before finally pulling away, even as your body attempts to coax him back inside.

George squeezes your waist tenderly, pulling back to watch his brother guide his slick fingers to your lips. Pliable with your eyes hooded, you open your mouth, slathering them with saliva and sucking them clean. Fred runs a hand through your hair, kissing you softly on your temple, mumbling about how well you did, how good you are.

George watches you intently before leaving to lie back on his own bed, Gameboy in hand. Adjusts himself. Fred grabs tissues from his nightstand and cleans you up, finding your clothes and helping you into them. You stand uneasily, ears humming with static, eyes unfocused, and head to the door.

Fred follows you out, and you keep yourself steady by grabbing onto his arm. You look up at him. A cheeky smile tugs at his lips.

“You don't want to stay for dinner?”

He knows better than anyone that you can hardly see straight.

“No, I — I think I'll just, um... I'm just gonna head home." You give him half a smile back, dazed, trying to be polite and make sure your knees don’t buckle all at once.

“No problem, love. You'll be alright by yourself?”

“Yeah,” you rasp out.

“Alright. See you later.” He leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and your body thrums once more just at the sight of him. You straighten up slightly at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, “Yeah, sure.”

a/n: this is a rewrite of a previous fic, and i really didn't realise how dark it was until i edited it. this stuff is not normal! consent is key, yada yada yada! it was still getting quite a bit of traction but i ended up accidentally deleting it so... here you go.

[qiekz]

i drew some fun stuff cuz i was bored ^_^

[plz reblog]

freak on the left waz already posted here