#Locke's concept of equality

[satoruhour]

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

#asks #anon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk scenarios #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #jjk thirsts #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojou smut #gojou x reader

[gureumz]

project aphrodite

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

premise: in a post-apocalyptic world, you and jungwon are excellent scientists and are at the relative top of the list of people who are ideal parents for the next generation of this dying world. it's now your job to repopulate this earth so you ask your co-worker to pretty please knock you up.

notes: sci-fi elements, dystopian au, scientist!reader, scientist!jungwon, fem-bodied reader, reader is referred to as a woman, dom!jungwon, breeding, impreg kink (like heavily), dirty talk, platonic (?) breeding, co-workers with benefits (?), idk this is kinda speculative fiction but also suspend your disbelief a bit lol

a/n: first of my 1k follower special! not quite sure what order i'm following here but i hope you stay for the ride nonetheless! enjoy!

it's a strange feeling.

in your line of work, 'strange' is hardly any cause for concern. as a biologist with a concentration in genetics, you've seen all the ways nature does its job. from the familiar concepts almost all people learn about in science class like the basic 'mom-meets-dad-equals-baby' to the eerie methods organisms in the deep sea evolve to survive.

you've learned about it all, pored over each punnett square, stressed over the formulas. so, this shouldn't be anything to worry about.

and yet, you're still worried.

"i mean...what did we expect?" jay speaks up from beside you, eyeing the phone in his hand.

"we're presently some of the world's most brilliant minds so...," he adds, locking his phone before hunching over his desk. to your ears, it sounds as if he's trying to convince himself rather than you.

you scan over the document flashed on your own laptop screen. the harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz nonstop, going on and on, a background hum all of you in the bunker have grown used to. at this moment, it lulls you into a daydream, vision swimming as you repeat the words in your head.

all government personnel with a status level 7 and higher are recommended to partake in project aphrodite. those falling under level 10 are strictly required. participation at this level is compulsory.

common citizens with a status of 9 to 10 are also required to participate. ample compensation for those successful will be provided.

"you're a level 8. it's not as if you have to," you mutter, fingers digging into your temples.

jay snickers. "how many level 10 government personnel are there in this ruined world? a few hundred or so doctors, another few hundred scientists, even fewer world leaders. that's not taking into account the difference in sex. my information's not up to date but last time i checked, there is a hell of a lot more men than there are women. it's a shitshow waiting to happen."

you turn to meet jay's eyes, not meaning to convey any certain emotion, but the way jay's expression falls leads you to believe that you look way more upset than you're letting on.

"oh shit, yeah," jay curses. "you're a level 10. i forgot."

you sigh, tilting your head back against the headrest of your seat.

"i'm sure they'll release more regulation soon," you begin. "this is just the initial memo. with our world hanging in the balance as it is, no one's gonna let this devolve into some patriarchal anarchy, i hope."

"yeah, of course," you hear jay agree. "most of the proponents of project aphrodite are women, anyway, so i'm sure they'll take extra measures to keep you safe."

you sit up straight, looking at jay once more. "this is the world, huh?"

you and jay pause before sharing a quick chuckle.

"'go make babies, or else,'" you say in a mock radio announcer voice. jay lets out a laugh, his voice echoing off the empty office walls.

the two of you fall into silence, as if retreating to your respective thoughts. all that's in your mind at this moment is your current project, the very thing the few people more powerful than you had assigned for you to do: leading your team in stopping that godforsaken virus ravaging the outside. you've been making steady progress so far, but with the weight of this new responsibility, you're not sure if you could keep the momentum up.

you realize with a passing thought that most of the scientists on your team are level 9s and 10s.

"well," you begin before you could stop yourself. you're suddenly overcome with a feeling of suffocation, the office space seemingly too small and continuously growing even smaller.

"i hope you find someone you'd like to procreate with," you say lightly, pushing yourself off your chair. you quickly gather your things: folders and binders and other loose papers in your arms.

you catch jay looking at you, a pensive look on his face. you stop as you're grabbing your reusable coffee jug.

"no," you deadpan. "not me."

jay's eyes widen, as if realizing he'd said something without really saying anything.

"i—no, wait—i mean...," jay stutters, ears quickly turning red.

you smile, patting jay's shoulder reassuringly. "in case you were thinking about it."

jay's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and you can't help but laugh.

"these are desperate times, but i'm hoping it's not too desperate," you add. without waiting for a response, you turn towards the door, already making your way to it.

"besides, dr. isa lee seems more your type," you say over your shoulder one last time before pushing the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

---

"hey."

you look up from the microscope, tearing your attention away from the specimen you were examining. your eyes readjust to their normal focal length as a tall figure enters the lab, perfectly crisp white coat hanging off his broad shoulders, thin-wired spectacles resting on the bridge of his tall, straight nose. your lips feel strangely parched as he makes direct eye contact with you and you're left with no choice but to moisten them with your tongue.

"oh hi, dr. yang."

the other scientist chuckles, setting down a stack of papers on a desk in the corner. "i've been here for three weeks. please, call me jungwon."

you swallow. "right. jungwon."

dr. jungwon yang was a new import from the seoul bunker, having come to your own area's bunker merely a few weeks prior. he was immediately put under your supervision, an addition to your already elite team of biologists, geneticists, and virologists. off the bat, you could tell he was a man of many talents, coming up with unconventional solutions and arriving at answers quicker than anyone else.

his presence in your lab made your heart swell. in pride, adoration, or desire, you're not quite sure.

"uh, yesterday's results are in that binder over there, in case you want to go over them," you begin. jungwon walks over to your side of the long table, peering over the slide loaded into the microscope.

ignoring the way he brushes ever so slightly against you, you continue. "the director's dropping by later this afternoon, but i wouldn't be too bothered with that. he's just looking for someone to blame for the slow progress at this point. if only they could get us those materials we asked for..."

"have you read the memo?" jungwon asks abruptly, straightening up. he towers over you, his eyes downcast as he stares at your face.

"of course, you've read the memo," jungwon corrects himself, chuckling. "what i meant was...what do you think of it?"

"it's a government-issued memo, it hardly matters what i think," you respond, focusing back on your work in front of you, although all you do is stare blankly at the moving microorganisms, mind unfocused with how much of jungwon's perfume you can smell.

"it's your reproductive health that's on the line. i'm pretty sure your opinion counts for something," jungwon says with a pinch in between his eyebrows.

oh, a feminist. that's even hotter.

"okay, yeah. i appreciate the new guidelines they put out," you admit, looking back up at jungwon. "though it's the bare minimum, i'm glad they're letting us keep the autonomy of choosing who to...boink."

jungwon laughs at that.

"and free fertility drugs for anyone who wants or needs it. oh, also, thank god they didn't have the brilliant idea of putting a time limit on it. having read some crazy speculative fiction myself, the things people are willing to do in fiction are crazy. who's to say they can't do the same in real life?" you continue.

you don't notice the way jungwon's smirk grows as he listens.

"kind of makes the whole thing unsexy, don't you think?" jungwon cuts in, raising an eyebrow. you blink, unsure of what he's talking about.

"i'm surprised they're not monitoring us with cameras and hooking us up to EKGs and shit," he adds.

"oh," you say with a soft giggle, finally catching on. "i'm sure some people are into being watched."

"are you?" jungwon asks.

"am i what?" you answer.

"into being watched."

a pause.

you shake your head. "how about you?"

"oh no," jungwon says. "i prefer to keep what's mine for my eyes only."

"hm. possessive. that's kind of sexy," you mumble under your breath, a sudden surge of confidence coursing through you.

jungwon just stares at you, but you can see his pupils dance in amusement, taking in your whole face and all your features. you might have imagined it but he seemed to have peeked down at your chest for a second.

"do you think it's attractive for someone to be into lego-building? or at least, used to be into it. i'd give an arm and a leg for a complete lego set nowadays," jungwon asks, leaning against the table, and only now do you notice the veins running over the back of his hands.

you think about whether his arms are just as veiny.

"do you think it's a good trait to pass on an offspring? lego-building, i mean," he presses on.

"uh, yeah. good problem-solving skills," you answer, humoring his question.

jungwon nods. "do you think leadership skills are important?"

you smile, leaning against the cabinet opposite jungwon. you nudge his foot lightly. "i lead a team of scientists myself. of course, i think leadership skills are important."

"you and i both," jungwon agrees.

jungwon shifts, placing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"how about dimples? do you think dimples are cute?" jungwon asks once more, one corner of his mouth upturned. a deep crease on his cheek appears.

a dimple.

"very," you admit.

"i see."

there's a silence that stretches over the two of you, and the weight of uncertainty is daunting as you stare at a spot on jungwon's tie. finally, after a few seconds, you heave a sigh, unable to take the tension any longer.

"this is the weirdest way anyone has ever flirted with me," you declare, looking up at jungwon through your lashes. he's grinning and you nearly shiver at how utterly attractive you're finding him at this moment.

"but it's effective," jungwon says. that was a statement, not a question.

you tilt your head to the side. "how do you know?"

"because you would have blown me off two minutes ago if it wasn't," jungwon reasons, crossing his arms. by doing this, he just made himself appear even wider than he is.

"always so calculated," you say, impressed.

you stretch your neck, easing your head from side to side, watching as jungwon fixes his gaze on the taut tendons of your neck. "are you also this precise in bed, dr. yang?"

jungwon approaches, a large hand resting on your hip. "that's for you to find out."

your breath hitches as you feel his thumb rub through the fabric of your skirt.

"later?" he asks.

"my place or yours?" you reply, fingertips grazing the front of his polo. you can just about feel the slope and ridges of his toned muscles.

"i'd like to be a gentleman, so mine," jungwon offers. "i'll walk you back to your room after."

"i was kind of hoping i wouldn't need to walk back after," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice.

"is that a challenge?" jungwon says, his other hand pressing firmly on your lower back. he pulls you to him and your hands involuntarily reach out towards his shoulders to steady yourself.

a few seconds pass before any of you speak again.

"that's for you to find out," you say.

---

"kind of weird, isn't it?" jungwon asks, panting against your neck.

your back is pressed firmly against one wall of his sleeping quarters, a wide, loft-like room, similar to yours. a luxury offered only to level 10 government personnel, the room gives its occupants enough space and enough privacy.

and boy, did you need privacy.

"what's weird?" you say breathily, fingers threading through jungwon's hair as he kisses down the column of your neck. his fingers nimbly undo the buttons of your blouse and you whimper when you feel him lick at the valley between your breasts.

"coming up to coworkers or friends then asking them to reproduce with you," jungwon responds, tugging your blouse off of your shoulders.

(you both held enough respect for the institution that employed you both, so your work lab coats were neatly thrown over the back of jungwon's couch before anything got too frisky.)

"see, it's the way you say it that makes it weird," you giggle. you pull jungwon back up to your face, kissing him fervently, tongue licking into his mouth.

"oh yeah? how would you say it?" jungwon challenges as he pulls away slightly, his nose grazing your cheek. he licks a stripe on the underside of your jaw.

"please, jungwon," you whimper, playing up the whine in your voice just a little bit. "need you to knock me up. make me pregnant, please."

jungwon grunts in your ear, reaching behind you to rip the zipper of your skirt down. you let the fabric fall to the floor, stepping out of it quickly, revealing the matching red lace panties you had in tandem with your bra.

"yeah? want me to cum inside you so many times that there won't even be the tiniest chance that you're not pregnant?" jungwon says lowly, kneading one of your boobs in his hands.

you nod, hooking a leg around jungwon's hip, pushing your core right up against the bulge in his pants.

"yes," you breathe out, dragging your clothed pussy over his straining cock. "let's be good citizens and have a whole bunch of kids, yeah?"

jungwon chuckles, hands hurriedly working on his belt. you take this time to kiss up his neck, still rutting against him, desperate for any contact.

"come here," jungwon says through gritted teeth as his pants and boxers fall to the floor. he kicks them off unceremoniously, yanking you towards the couch. your eyes briefly catch the flash of white that were your lab coats.

the two of you fall onto the cushiony surface, with jungwon sitting up and you falling a little less gracefully on him. the two of you laugh as you adjust yourself, righting your posture so you could look at jungwon.

"take this off," jungwon commands, pulling at your panties. you swing off jungwon for a moment, pulling off the garment in record time. you reposition yourself over jungwon, his cock standing tall, hard, and painfully red.

"come on, show me how bad you want those kids," jungwon teases, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you roll your eyes. "you gotta help with the diapers."

a second later, you sink down on jungwon, moaning wantonly at how much he stretches you out, filling you up effortlessly. jungwon throws his head back, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

"i'll quit my fucking job at the lab if this is how good it feels to make babies with you," jungwon groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

you whimper at his words, rocking back and forth on his lap. you angle your hips a certain way, the tip of his cock kissing at just the perfect spot inside you. you shudder, repeating your movement.

"god, you feel amazing," jungwon praises. "so warm, so tight."

"yeah," you respond. you're gliding up and down his cock, swiveling your hips as fast as you can. you clench down around him, the thought of jungwon cumming inside you your only motivation.

"filling me up so good," you add, watching as jungwon screws his eyes shut, neck shiny with sweat.

you move forward, attaching your lips just below jungwon's ear. you suckle on the salty skin, running your tongue over the spot, savoring the way jungwon lets a moan rip out of him.

"gotta let the whole bunker know this one's mine," you whisper as you let up on jungwon's neck. a faint red spot is left in the wake of your lips on his skin.

in a blink of an eye, your whole world tumbles upside down, jungwon's hands forcing you down on the couch by your waist. in a daze, you realize that jungwon has you pinned under him, his eyes wild with a hungry look in them. he pushes your legs right up against your chest, lining himself up with your entrance.

"the moment you start showing, no one in this goddamn bunker will have a single doubt who gave you that baby," jungwon counters, thrusting into you. he gives you no time to adjust, picking up where you left off.

you cry out, trying to anchor yourself on anything your hands can find. eventually, you find purchase in jungwon's shoulders. he feels your nails digging in, and he mutters a soft 'fuck', speeding up his movements, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours so incredibly obscene in the confined space of his room.

"give it to me, please," you say, meeting jungwon's eyes as he continues to fuck into you. his forehead is creased, a look of concentration washing over his face.

"cum inside, fill me up as many times as you want, fuck it deep in me," you continue, cradling jungwon's face in your hands, the tender gesture a contrast to how rough he's bein.

"god," jungwon groans, voice breaking at the end as he speeds up, but then he halts abruptly, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. you feel him twitch inside you and you gasp, clenching down as hard as you can.

"fuck, yes, milk it all out," jungwon says. he starts to thrust up into you again, watching as his cock is slowly coated with his cum spreading all over your cushy walls.

you whine, your fingers finding their way down to your cunt, your middle and ring finger pressing onto your clit. you rub at it ferociously, the idea of jungwon's sticky release inside of you turning you on impossibly.

"i'm getting hard again, jesus christ," jungwon complains but his movements don't cease. he's shaking from the overstimulation but he wraps his arms around you, pulling your limp form up against him.

"rub that pretty pussy for me, babe," jungwon requests, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"make yourself cum while i fill you up for a second time."

---

"so?"

you jump a little at the sudden intrusion. you look up at jungwon through both of your reflections in your bathroom mirror. three pregnancy tests lie in a neat line on the edge of the sink.

"i just started the timer, jungwon," you reply with a laugh. jungwon turns you around to face him, kissing you briefly.

"hm," you say, looking up at jungwon questioningly. "you never kiss me unless you want something."

"well," jungwon begins, hands slipping under your sweater. "we can always kill time while we wait for the results."

you shake your head, but you're already pressing yourself up against jungwon. "you're insatiable, dr. yang."

jungwon winks at you, undoing your bra under your shirt. "you know it."

"plus, you just look too good in this damn lab coat."

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

[schraubd]

In the Image of God

A recent study found that Jews are the demographic group most accepting of trans individuals in the United States.

When certain Christians assert a religious freedom right to discriminate against trans individuals -- particularly, a right to misgender them -- their argument typically proceeds something along these lines:

1. They believe every individual is created in the image of God.

2. Part of that image is the person's sex (and by extension, gender).

3. In particular, a person's sex/gender is inalterably assigned by God from conception.

4. They are forbidden from lying or falsifying God's choice.

Therefore, they say, they are religiously obligated to refer to people by their chromosomal sex, regardless of how they identify or publicly present. This religious duty, in turn, is used to press against rules and policies which require respectful treatment of trans individuals (including refraining from deliberately misgendering them, deadnaming them, and so on).

What's interesting about this framework is that a lot of it actually resonates with how I view the relationship of my Jewish faith and trans individuals -- with some crucial alterations. To wit:

1. I believe every individual is create in the image of God.

2.  Part of that image is the person's sex (and by extension, gender).

4. I am forbidden from lying or falsifying God's choice.

The major distinction, of course, comes in prong 3:

3. A person's sex/gender is not necessarily or inalterably assigned by God from conception, but rather can be part of a person's own process of discovering who they are. Where such self-discovery leads to a person to conclude they are trans, non-binary, or any other identity that departs from the sex they were assigned at birth, they are not deviating from God's plan. They are uncovering their authentic self as God has created them.

The result of this process is part of God's image. Those who refuse to accept it are not cleaving to God's image, they are rejecting it.

God's process of creation is not, in my understanding of Judaism, a set-and-forget sort of deal. It is not a matter of passively being puppeteered by a divine hand. It something we do together -- we are partners in creation. To deny the results of that partnership is, for me, a denial of God's plan and practice just as much as it is for adherents of other religious views who adhere to a more static and calcified notion of the role of the divine.

And so for me, and I suspect for many Jews, the religious freedom obligation pushes in the other direction. Many conservative states have, or are considering, laws which require (at least in certain contexts) non-recognition of trans identity. For Jews (and others) who share my religious precepts, these laws would force me to deny -- to bear false witness to -- a key attribute of how God created some of my peers. I do not believe -- and this is a deep, fundamental commitment -- that God's "image" of trans persons was for them to be locked in a body or sex or gender identity that clearly is not authentically theirs. When they find their full self, they are equally finding God's image of themselves.

Consistent with my lengthily expressed feelings on the subject, I suspect that what's good for the goose will not be good for the gander. Despite the clear parallel, liberal Jews who assert religious liberty rights to be exempted from laws seeking to enforce by state mandate a transphobic agenda will not meet with the same success enjoyed by their Christian peers.

Nonetheless, there is value in promoting this sort of framework, and in unashamedly asserting Jewish independence from hegemonic conservative Christian notions of true religiosity. It is not woven into "religion" that God's image requires rejection of trans individuals' full selves. That is a choice, an interpretation of some religions or of some who call themselves religious. Other religions, other religious persons, have a different interpretation of how to respect and dignify the facet of God that is in every one of us.

via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/vlsH4T2

#Judaism #religious liberty #transgender

[inklore]

listen as a namor whore (namwhore?) i think that he loves marking you as his like man would go nuts with the hickeys and bruises (and bite marks too). on the off chance he lets you return the favor he’s surprised by how much he loves seeing the love bites and bruises on his own godly self >:)

pairing: namor x princess!reader

word count: 962

warnings: eighteen+ content, mentions of p in v but not shown, teasing, bites and marking, established forbidden relationship.

note: ok see i love this concept, this take, this thot!! but i fear he’s not completely into you returning the favor because for him it’d be more of a ‘i want everyone to see and be reminded who you worship to’. and i think he likes to stay looking proper to his people, but he does let you get away with bites left under the shorts!!

You were supposed to have left your room and met your mother and the council minutes ago—almost an hour ago you now see as the clock on your bedside reflects back to you in the mirror you’re standing at. Trying to right yourself back into looking presentable, kept, like you’re not running late because the man at the foot of your bed used his sweet siren song of pretty compliments, and words that had you out of your dress just as fast as his fingers had torn at the undergarments underneath it.

Leaving your balcony door open for him was seeming more and more like a curse than a blessing.

Letting him come and go as he pleased, when he cared to visit you after days of being MIA. Sometimes only noting his presence with a saltwater covered gift he’d leave at your doorway, when you’d stayed up as long as your body would allow to. As you waited to see if he would come to you; or when duties like council meetings and required dinners were demanded of you—events a Princess was supposedly meant to attend.

You’re surprised your mother hasn’t sent someone to fetch you. You expect it anytime now, ever the punctual woman your mother was. Being tardy was surely going to get you a stern look and deep questioning.

“Jats'uts,” he mumbles against your shoulder.

Beautiful.

Pretty.

Your heart soars, fingers only wavering a little as you do your best to right the necklaces adorning your neck. Your body having just been molded pudy in his hands mere seconds ago. Your thighs still sticky from having his mouth and cock between them. Your legs still feel that heady wobble from post orgasm. Your mind and body still coming off of that beautiful precipice of want and desire, of falling against his body like you couldn’t stand up straight, or function properly, without him being there to sink into—or onto on most nights.

You had told him how urgent it was that you make it to this meeting. How he needed to turn around and make his way back to his beloved ocean before someone saw him, and your mother had both of you locked away.

A threat he laughed at. A threat you knew meant nothing to someone as powerful as him; a God.

“If this were Talokan I’d make our people come to you. You’d never have to lift a finger, princess.”

Our people.

As if there were some alternate reality in which that could come to formation. Where the two of you would rule as equals and not something forbidden, and secretive.

There had been too much death and destruction on both sides, from both of your people, for either groups to be happy to be ruled by the both of you.

But the fantasy was nice to dream about—get lost in the idea of actually being able to flaunt your love instead of hiding it.

When his arm wraps around your waist your body works on instinct, on knowing the hands and warmth of the man that’s touching it. Guiding it into his chest to lean and rest against. His lips brushing at the side of your neck, mustache burning your skin.

“Or you could stay naked, spread out for me. Waiting for my return while I handled everything.”

“Mm.” You let your eyes close as you grin, “no responsibilities other than pleasing my king.”

“Precisely.” His teeth take a hold of your sensitive skin, his tongue following after the sting like a salve. Making your body tremble against him, a gasp falling from your lips. “You’d never want for anything. I would have it brought to you. Made for you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to you, princess.” His mouth repeats it’s actions against your neck, his hand creeping lower to the start of your thigh.

That ache between your legs quickly making a home once more at your swollen clit.

“K’uk’ulkan,” his name falls from your lips, practiced, known, worshiped—as you moan softly. As you let him suck and bite at your skin, letting his words coax you into that fantasy world you want so badly.

You don’t come back to reality until you feel his fingers start to pull up the bottom of your dress, the cool air against your damp underwear bringing you back down from that building high.

“Nononono,” you pull away from him. Untangling his arms from your body and sending him a scowl at the way he’s smirking at you. “I’m already late because of you!”

“My apologies, princess.” His hand waves towards the door, “don’t keep your people waiting any longer.”

“I won’t! You-” your quick movements stop abruptly when you see it, when the deep hue catches your eye in the mirror. And maybe it’s half your own fault for not stopping him, for once again falling victim to the hot-tease of manipulation of his beautiful words.

There’s words of anger and disbelief in the back of your throat, ready to come up and spill over at the man whose eyes are locked onto yours in the mirror. Who is still wearing that signature cool as can be expression, that you really want to slap off of him.

Your mother was going to kill you.

String you up as a pariah!

“My mother–”

“Will not be pleased, no.” He finishes for you. Steps back into that space behind you, returning his heat to your back. His thumb runs along the bruised area, eyes gleaming at his creation before flashing back to yours. “But now everyone will know you belong to someone.”

You belong to me.

Unspoken in words but not in the way he presses a kiss to the love mark, lips soft and endearingly sensual.

#namor smut #namor x reader #namor x you #namor x black reader #namor imagine #kukulkan x reader #namor headcanon #namor one shot #namor x y/n #black panther smut #kukulkan #namor #tenoch huerta #namor fics #namor fanfic #kukulkan smut #kukulkan x you #namor x female reader #kukulkan one shot #black panther one shot #thots !

[seineko]

minors do not interact!

note: you know what is hotter than one person turning dumb while fucking? it's both the people involved turning dumb while fucking! taking the concept of being fucked dumb and applying to both the parties because it isn't done enough.

i want to be as much of a mess as i want him to be. who better than diluc? i'm saying it as if 90% of my blog isn't filled with him already.

"'luc!" you did not even have the sense in you to feel the sheer desparation that whine carried, brain completely locked on the feeling of your red-haired lover streching out your walls, letting you feel even the smallest of bumps and veins.

he himself let out a groan, hiding himself in your hair. if you were just a bit more concious of it, you would've noticed the grip of his hands had gotten a bit painful around your waist. diluc would've most certainly removed them if he even had the ability to comprehend that he was causing you even the slightest amount of pain.

turns out, neither of you could think of anything other than the sheer pleasure of having one another as close as it was humanely possibly.

"feels so good," you mumbled into his ear, feeling the affect of it when his entire body trembled slightly and he let out a whimper. he found himself unable to talk the second he was inside you, his usually vigilant brain completely abandoning all thought that didn't involve you.

the pleasure always increased hundred fold when he caught the sight of you under him, eyes crossed in ecstasy, sweat dripping down your body, scent mixing in with his as he couldn't help the throb when his gaze settled down at where he had you streched around him.

the sight enough to abandon any semblance of sanity in him that seemed to have left you hours ago.

one of his hands abandoned your waist to trace the entire length upto your cheek before settling around it, thumb caressing the fat tenderly, all the while his hips kept rolling slowly.

your own palm reached from behind him to settle on the back of his, a small smile that was still evidently clouded with arousal, before sliding it towards your lips to press a long kiss onto it.

the lava that had already been pooled at the bottom of his stomach started boiling at that sight, all the cells in his body screaming at him to pull you more closer to him. as close as possible. so close, even air should find it impossible to pass between you.

all diluc could do was tighten your leg around his waist with the hand that was still on the lower parts of your body. reaching up both the hands to grab your face, pulling your face slightly up to crush your lips into a kiss which was simultaneously heat-induced and also heartbreakingly tender.

his tongue invaded your mouth as his thrusts finally increased in pace, completely taking your breath away both literally and metamorphically.

he finally broke the kiss when the grip of your hands on his wrists tightened, both panting equally hard as he murmured out a completely breathless, "'ove you," settling his forehead on yours, hands never leaving the sides of your face.

that broke the knot that settled below your stomach, pleasure bursting through your body along with a moan so loud, you would've found it embarassing any other time.

diluc followed seconds later, slowly riding the high out, mind slowly clearing for the first time in hours.

"diluc?" you spoke after a long time after he settled beside you, pulling you onto his chest and completely wrapping his arms around you. at his hum, you pressed a kiss onto the side of his chest where you rested your head upon and said, "i love you," because you never want him to forget that.

the kiss he pressed onto your forehead at that had warmth envelope your entire being.

loving him was the best thing that you ever did. having him love you in return was the best thing that ever happened to you.

©2023 by seineko @ tumblr

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc smut #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #diluc ragnvindr smut #genshin impact diluc #diluc genshin impact #genshin diluc #diluc genshin #🐈‍⬛boba.drabbles

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule V

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: tysm for all your support! Our Agustd is now…showing.

Masterlist, Latibule IV

“What the fuck is that?”

You turned around to glare at the man with a confused look. Suga was looking down, observing what he called ‘that’ with his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted. He could not have looked any more disgusted and confused than he did at the very moment.

You briskly walked to him, flashing him a tight smile before pulling his arm so he could follow you, however reluctantly. You stopped dragging him when the two of you reached the kitchen. You looked up at him while he was busy looking down at your hand that was trying so hard to encircle his thick wrist with a look of a somewhat confusion. Suga couldn’t, for the life of him, answer why he felt something he didn’t want to name. And now, you were too aware of the feel of his skin, of how thick his wrist was, and of how the heat emitting from his skin felt good. You were much too aware of him.

And upon realization, you dropped his wrist carelessly as though it burned you. “That-“ you pointed your finger to the living room while glaring daggers at him. “-is a child.”

He frowned, his dark locks falling on his face as he look down at you. “Fine. Why the fuck is a child here, angel?”

You sighed in exasperation, explaining to him as patiently as you could that his father asked you to look out for his child because he had to travel for work, to which he rolled his eyes dramatically.

See, this was why you thought he was similar to a cat. He hated people, he hated morning, and he hated being hungry.

Was it morning? Check.

Was there another person in your house today? Check.

Had he not eaten yet? Check.

“That’s free childcare, angel! You should charge for it!”

“He’s my friend!”

“And?”

“And this is a favor! Have you not heard of that? Are you not familiar with the concept?”

Oh, he knew favor. He knew a lot of people owed him one and he was going to collect all of them soon.

“Do you hate children? Is that it?” You asked again when he failed to answer you, stepping closer to him to annoy him further. You didn’t know why you found it so entertaining to see him lost his cool, or how his face scrunched up when he was annoyed. But he stood his ground. He looked down at you, his lips tilted to the side as he focused his dark eyes on you.

“No. I hate people in general.” But he didn’t hate you. He wasn’t put off by your existence. He wasn’t happy when you were away for too long. But these were the things he would never admit to himself.

Nope.

“Well, he’s staying here until tomorrow. Be kind! Or else!”

He had the audacity to look affronted as though he wouldn’t do the exact opposite of what you asked of him. Right now would be the prime example.

“Who are you?” Suga asked him once the two of you returned to the living room where the child was happily watching cartoons. He was looking at the child as though be was dangerous when

“I’m Jackson,” he answered back, his little arms folded on his front as he looked up at the man questioning him with an equally defiant glare. “Who are you?”

Suga turned to you, his eyes in disbelief at what he heard. “He named his child his name?”

You blinked twice, unable to even defend your friend. But you didn’t have to. His child got his sassiness, after all.

“Your name please, ahjussi,” he repeated as he tapped his foot on the ground in obvious irritation at the older man. This was the first time he saw Suga and he automatically hated him. You were his favorite aunt, albeit you were the only aunt he had. But still! He thought you were too beautiful for the man you called your fiancé. He thought he didn’t deserve you.

“Ajhussi?” He repeated in disbelief as he squinted his eyes at the child. “I’m…Suga.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“Yah! What kind of name is Jackson?! Can’t your father think of another name? Is he that-“

You could feel a headache coming as you listened to them bicker. “Guys-“

“My friends said I have a nice name!”

“Yeah? Well, they’re lying to you!”

“At least I have friends! You look like you have enemies!”

Well, he wasn’t wrong though, Suga thought as he paused. He’d give this round to the kid. But he would return with a vengeance.

“Noona,” the young Jackson turned to look at you with his puppy eyes and an adorable pout on his lips that you couldn’t help but cooed at him and opened your arms so he could hug you.

He wrapped his little arms around your middle before whining at you. “Are you sure that man is who you want to be with? There are better guys out there, noona,” he said as he turned his head to glare at the other man.

“Yah!”

To which, he just stuck his tongue out.

“Angel, why is he still here? Can’t his mother take care of him?! Or did his mother also find him insufferable?”

“Suga!” You reprimanded him as you felt the child’s small body shook with impending tears. You glared at the man before hugging the now wailing child. For heaven’s sake, did he really have to fight with a child?! “Are you a child?! You should know better!”

“What?! He started it!”

“His mother…passed away,” you whispered the last part, feeling sorry for the child who never knew his mother. You thought that this was why he was somehow too attached with you. You were the only female figure in his life because his father refused to date anyone. He had said one night when you asked him why he never dated despite it being years already and he only said that he found the one. That his wife was it, that anyone would only fail in comparison to her.

You thought it was sad to have found your soulmate, only for her to be taken from your grasp forever, to be only left with memories that would fade in time, to be the only one whose love had no where else to go.

Suga’s eyes widened in realization, his gaze on you as what you said sunk in. He always knew he was an asshole, an abomination of a greedy man. He knew he was all that was wrong in mankind, but God, seeing that child cried his heart out displaced him. It felt…wrong. Was he developing a fucking conscience? Was this safe place making him soft?

Were you making him a better man?

He turned his dark eyes on the weeping child before he stood up. He clapped the child’s shoulder, “If you stop crying, I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

You watched the two in front of you devoured their ice cream like it was the end of the world. After fighting like vicious animals, they were sitting in front of you quietly as though they never said hurtful things to one another. You didn’t know that Suga even know this place. You thought that he must probably roamed around the town while you were at work and must have familiarized himself with the town. When he said that he knew a place, this was the last place you thought. This was the most colorful place in the whole town and it was also the loudest with pop songs playing on the speaker and children running all over the place. He was too in contrast with the aesthetic of the place with his all-black clothes and the emotionless face he was showing to the world.

You looked up to watch them again when you caught him already looking intently at you- or more specifically, your ice cream. “What?”

You ordered what you considered the normal flavor, chocolate and cookies and cream which were your favorite, while they ordered fruit-flavored ice cream. Suga thought it was peculiar that you didn’t eat fruits and you said he was weirder for fighting with a kid, to which he had no comeback for.

“I want your ice cream,” he announced as though it was his birth right to receive everything he ever desired.

“Suga- we talked about this.”

“About what?” He asked absentmindedly as he reached his spoon to your side when you slapped his hand away.

“What’s the magic word?”

He glared at you, his jaw clenched uncaring if he was bringing the vibe of the place down, or that he looked like an angry kitten.

“It’s ‘please’, ahjussi,” Jackson quipped up, looking up at the man sitting beside him with doe eyes. “Did you not know that?”

“Yes, Suga, did you not know that?” You asked him with faux confusion, batting your eyelashes at him annoyingly.

“May I please have your ice cream?”

“Of course, honey.”

You couldn’t help but smiled triumphantly at him before scooping your ice cream and lifting it to him. He glared at you before holding your hand closer to his lips before opening his mouth devouring the ice cream, all while holding eye contact with you.

And fuck it if you weren’t entranced with the way his lips seemed so pink…or the way his dark eyes seemed to hold so much hunger that you felt your cheeks heated up. You tried to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let go.

“Delicious, angel,” he said lowly before flashing you a smirk and placing your hand down gently on the table. “I’ll go pay the bill.”

You blinked owlishly, shaking the haze from your mind. “What? You don’t have money. Let me pay-“

He regarded you with bored eyes before lifting his eyebrow, “You told me to get a job, right?”

You were still reeling from the added information as he already walked to the counter. He got a job? When? Also, who would hire someone as socially inadequate as he was?

Jackson grinned widely as he spotted his best friend from across the diner. The other child was waving at him excitedly. He turned to you, jumping from his seat with an elated expression on his face. “Noona! May I say hi to my friend?”

“Of course, honey. Just be careful and don’t run.”

You watched him walked to the other side and you only lost sight of him for a moment when you watched Suga smiled with the old lady working in the diner. He looked like he was familiar with her. Your brows furrowed. How would he, an anti-social, always irritated, mannerless man, know her? Unless…did he work here?

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard an aggressive shouting from behind you.

“Watch where you’re going, little boy!” The man hissed down at Jackson who accidentally bumped into him. He looked like he was about to cry as the man continually berated him that you snapped up to your seat and walked to them. You placed your hands around the little boy’s shoulders, hugging him closer to you as shield from the screaming man.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

He turned his sinister eyes on you, “Are you her mother? You let your son run around like that? What kind of mother are you?!”

“He was not running. I know because I saw. And what about you?! You’re a grown man who shouted at a child over a harmless mistake!”

He sneered at you, his beady eyes roaming on your form. He chuckled tonelessly, before walking closer to you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” he whispered before pushing your shoulder hard with his index finger, making you step back from the force. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I care?”

“I can ruin you and your family-“

He was about to hit you again when a someone caught his finger in his fist. Suga stepped in, his eyes devoid of any emotion, his jaw clenched as he walked closer to the man.

“I’d think twice about doing that,” he ordered coldly, stepping closer to him that the two of you were now hidden behind his back.

And it was as though he noticed a predator more dangerous than him because he did nothing but gulped as he struggled to look into Suga’s eyes. Suga whispered something inaudible to the man before smirking at him and dropping his hold on him. You felt him wrapped his arm around you as he guided you out of the diner and out of reach of the customers’ curious eyes.

The silence was overbearing, so unalike the one you were used to with him, the one where you could break it with your sassiness and teasing ways to him. No. This time, he looked like a different person. He still hadn’t released his hold on you and you could feel the tension emitting from his hand. You were almost to the park, the one you’d promised the little boy you could go to after the diner, when he paused his tracks.

You turned to look at him- only to find him already staring at you with a swirling darkness in his eyes. He let go of you, his hand that had just touched you was clenching.

“You go ahead, angel. I left my wallet in there,” he stated after a moment, his hands now in his pockets before turning around and walking back.

—-

“I told you I’d be back.”

The man’s eyes widened when he noticed Suga casually leaning against the wall of the narrow and quiet walkway. Had he not said a word, he would have walked passed the man who emitted an insane and menacing vibe. His dark hair was falling on his face, his scarred eye leering up at him as though he was elated to finally find a prey in this quiet and sleepy town.

“I-I don’t want any trouble, man-“

“Tsk tsk,” he pushed himself off of the wall before sauntering to the man. He looked relax as though nothing could phased him…as though he wasn’t about to do a crime. “It’s too late for that…man.”

The man whimpered as he was slammed to the wall, his body falling weakly to the ground. He couldn’t hold his own weight, no, not against Suga. His huge body was likened to a rag doll as the man he thought was the devil incarnate landed blow after blow on his body. And he did so without any emotions in his eyes.

“You listen here and you listen good, asshole,” Suga said in a toneless voice, his eyes holding a barely constrained anger. He stepped closer, uncaring that he was crushing the fingers of the man that dared touched her..or that the sound of bones crunching made the man whimpered louder. He crouched down, his hand hanging on his knees nonchalantly. “You fucked up,” he whispered as he took in the disheveled state of the crying man. Softly, he touched the other man’s fingers. He smirked when he heard him cried louder.

“You didn’t only scare the child, but you touched a woman. My woman,” he stated as though he was merely discussing the weather.

“W-what? W-who are you? Are you her husband?” He asked as tears fell down from his eyes.

“Yes.”

Latibule VI

#min yoongi fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fic #yoongi fic #yandere min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #mafia min yoongi

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Toga’s AU Concept

He visited Sanctum on a whim, he was in Mistral visiting his niece Saphron after all, why not visit the school that was training it’s future protectors… Was it truly chance that it happened when he got there at that moment. That he stumbled upon the horrified students backing away from a scene from a horror movie.

A girl over a boy, her skin pale, hair a dull gold but utterly contrast by the crimson of the boy beneath her, of his blood leaking, his eyes wide in equal parts horror and confusion as the girl above him drank deeply. Her aura lighting, brightening with every drop more she drunk.

But from her eyes another purely liquid dripped, tears that contradicted the madness in her eyes, others stood confused. But not him, never him, he didn’t hesitate, to hesitate was the let others suffer. The girl moved with surprising grace, avoiding him while her features altered, matching her victim’s.

His hand reached out as he enforced his soul into him, willing thew boy’s body to mend though his soul’s light. The second he saw the student’s face gain some of it’s blush ensured his life her turned on her and launched after the girl.

She’d been smart to run instead of fight, it was a fight she wouldn’t win, couldn’t win, but escaping was just a futile. She was fast, agile and athletic yes, but he was a skilled tracker. If she was faster, he just had to rely on endurance to carry him through.

And it did…

She’d been locked up, and they were debating her sentence, the sentence for an aura user with combat training, she was a threat. And perhaps he should’ve left it well enough alone, but he didn’t, and spoke to her.

And he realized the tragic madness that spurred her on. Toga Himiko was not a monster, she was a girl, gifted with a powerful Semblance, great potential and an honest easily corruptible heart. One’s semblance could influence a persons personality quite easily. After all, it was the manifest of your being, of your soul. How could you not begin to ponder its meaning, how could you not attempt to reflect it’s nature on your person, within your actions.

She was dangerous yes, unstable without a doubt… But, she was also alone, her family couldn’t understand her and feared her for it. Somewhere inside he knew she understood her sense of love was twisted. Was not the norm, after all, why else would she have cried when expressing it.

This was no monster, no villain of demon, she was a girl, a pitiful, lonely, misunderstood child who wanted nothing more then to express her love the only way she could. They way her very soul demanded she act out. All she wanted was a connection, was someone to understand her, was to have friends, family and a love that could accept her deviant nature, a nature she had no control of.

How could he call himself a Huntsman if he couldn’t save a single girl from her crippling, cruel loneliness. So he visited her, again and again, using his pull and connection with Ozpin to freeze the freeze the girl’s sentencing while he worked things out.

She started to look forward to meeting him, and he’d admit to the same, after all she was so cheerful and oddly endearing. If not for her eyes being amber instead of blue he’d had thought her one of his nieces.

Apparently after he started visiting regularly she ceased any resisting and even halted trying to escape, he started to bring her things, even cooking for the girl. Not helping but to feel she needed food a bit better then what they served here.

… He hadn’t expected her to cry, she, she couldn’t remember then last time her mom had made her food… The last time they treated her like a daughter instead of a Grimm. It angered him, it infuriated the Arc. But he held his tongue, and focused on what mattered.

On calling in favors, on talking to his family and getting his affairs in order, Jaune was many things, he was a Huntsman, next in line to be patriarch to the Arc House and a teacher at Beacon. But he was also a criminal who’d cheated his way into Beacon once upon a time. His hands had cut down men, his decisions as a leader had led to the death of innocents before as well.

Toga almost killed a boy, she needed help, needed understanding, to be given a chance. And he was all to willing to risk giving her one.

-0-0-0-

She tried to be normal, to live normally, to act normally, to love normally, she tried so hard, it was also such a struggle, other people’s normal. Other people being able to express themselves, to be themselves and be accepted for it. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, why couldn’t her way be normal… Why couldn’t she be accepted?

Why couldn’t her parents understand her, accept her, but no, they told her it was wrong, that to be so fascinated by blood was wrong, sick and twisted. That she needed to be normal… Were they saying her soul was wrong? She could feel it, ever since her semblance first manifested, since she stumbled upon it so long ago when she’d licked her wound…

Blood was to the body what aura was to the soul, it was beautiful, profound and unique to every person, and she, she could understand it, could indulge, could become others through their blood, she could understand them, be them… It was her normal.

But her parents refused to accept her normal, society refused it, the world and everyone in it refused it… She obeyed, she tried, she struggled to be everyone else’s normal… Until she met him.

Saito was a amazing boy, he was kind, smart and popular, everyone liked him, everyone respected him, just like a lot of other girls she grew to like him. So often she fought the urge to ask him for some of his blood, she wanted to be like him, to know him, to Become him…

But she smothered those urges, because she knew he could not accept them, nobody could accept a freak like her so she resisted the urge. She fought to stay ‘Normal’ To be a average, cheerful, reasonable, well-mannered girl that others could accept, even if it was all a act…

But then Saito got into a fight, and seeing him like that… so wonderfully bruised and bloodied, it made what was so twisted inside go crazy. And it all came crashing down… And she was upon him, moving on not instinct but pure natural movement, as unconsciously as one breathed she gave to her semblance’s nature.

His flesh parting so easily from a mere box cutter, his aura was shattered in the fight with other beforehand. She drunk from him, his blood tasting like the sweetest of irons, so warm, so filling, so unique to him and him alone…

It was ecstasy, finally, finally she got to be herself, she was able to express her love, she felt herself turning into him. His aura, his soul, his being, she understood it so much more in that moment. She knew it was all over, her life, all her efforts, they would come crashing down. But for just a moment, she wanted it, to be her own normal, to be herself…

And then he appeared, he saved Saito, and stopped her, his gaze held so much in it, there was the anger and disgust she expected, but also something new… Pity.

His name was Jaune Arc, he was a Huntsman, a professor, and he stopped her, but he didn’t stop there. He should up to met her in her jail cell, they talked, well, he talked, asking why she did it. And eventually she explained… And, and he listened.

He didn’t understand, but… But he tried to, he asked more, and she could see it, the disgust this anger and confusion, but never was that all she saw. She could see him trying, struggling to comprehend. Time and time again he’d visit, and talk to her, ask her question she’d never considered, asked if she thought what she did was okay.

She knew it wasn’t you can’t force your love on others, but he understood, not because it was normal to him, or because he was like her. No, because he tried to do what nobody else did… He tried to understand her.

He wanted to help her, and then he asked.

“Toga, I need to hear you say it, where you trying to kill Saito?” She knew he needed to hear her say it, so she did.

“No, I just, I wanted to express my love…” And then he told her.

“Toga, you’re not normal, but that’s okay, everyone is different, it’s what makes us unique, what makes life beautiful.” He hugged her.

“You’re not a monster, or a Grimm, your human, and you’ve been through so much.” He was warm… The words slipped from her mouth.

“Please, can I, can I drink your blood.” He paused and she knew she’d be rejected, pushed away and left alone…

“Toga, listen.” But she wasn’t rejected, pushed away, instead the man met her gaze, a sternness in his gaze but also a sympathy, one she’d never seen before.

“You don’t behave like others, and it can be dangerous.” She knew that, of course she did.

“But it doesn’t have to be.” He begun to glow, a soft, kind but powerful white.

“I know, you can help people, more than even I can with your semblance.” His big, calloused hand landed on her head.

“The same way you can take other’s blood, if you gave your love back, you could help so many people.” She shook, she’d thought that too, but, but never hoped others would, would.

“You’re not a monster, twisted or evil Toga, your just different, your semblance, your soul, your beautiful.” It was the smile of a father, of someone who genuinely wanted nothing more than to help her, then to comfort the girl who’d spent her entire if not short life being rejected by others.

“Himiko, I can’t just let you free, unfortunately the law is very clear on that.” She saw the sadness, the anger in his eyes, it was for her sake. But soon enough they were both overtaken by what she would come to know was his most prominent trait, Determination.

“If you agree to it, to come to Vale you can be put on Probation, under my supervision. I’’ be your guardian and probationary officer.” She knew her parents must’ve given up their rights to her by the slight anger that burned in his eyes.

“We’ll attend therapy lessons and you’ll be taught about aura control by me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled it out then, a vial, the most beautiful shade of red.

“Toga, I know the way you view things are different then mine own, but that doesn’t mean you can’t understand me, you lived in this world, acted appropriately for it as well. You understand how the general public views love.” He offered her the vial, the beautiful crimson flowing with his aura, with his soul.

“I can’t promise others will accept your views, or even try, but I promise, at the very least I will do everything I can to make a environment you can be yourself in… And that I’ll try my best to understand you.” She reached, her fingers grazing the glass, the vial warm… Her heart pounded as she looked to the beautiful crimson.

Slowly, cautiously she undid the top, he never looked away from her, never tore his gaze from the sight, there was no rejection as she took him into her. As she felt his soul through his aura, as his being and iron went down her throat becoming one with her.

She felt herself change, becoming him, her pale ash-blonde hair becoming a shade of livid golden-wheat, her fair skin pinking with a healthy flush. The slits of her pupils dilating, the Faunus trait vanishing as her pupils rounded and turned the most expressive blue.

Her aura converting, her soul changing and being replicating that as her very body matched the new soul she was temporarily hosting. And he looked at her through it all, reaching out and patting her head, the smile was genuine.

“If this is how you want to be that’s fine, I’ll learn to get used to it, but please, don’t stop being yourself, even if your appearance changes.” From his hand aura surged into her, his aura, given freely, pure and unfiltered.

Her answer finally came alongside the tears.

“Yes.”

-0-0-0-

She rushed down the hall from her room, excited for the day she’d looked forward to for so long, she couldn’t wait. Reaching the kitchen she found three people there, her sister and brother, Ren and Nora, two others he’d taken under his wing.

At the stove flipping the immense amount of pancakes the Valkyrie craved was Jaune, they waved to her, well Jaune and Nora did. Ren sat patiently at his seat enjoying his tea, she sat there beside them, besides two people who knew her, truly knew her, who accepted her almost as much as Jaune.

Two simple years was all she spent with him, but in those two years she’d felt more joy, more acceptance then ever before. She’d realized truths about herself and flaws in her actions.

She was free to express her love, but not to enforce it on others, to take from people who did not want to return her affections. It was wrong, cruel and that act whether it be her form of expressing love or ordinary expression of it by others were no less disgusting.

She’d help so many people with her feelings though, a little blood and she’d given so much back in turn, to children who needed it, to people with unique cases and blood types meant nothing to her semblance with regular people. She couldn’t help but want to help, even if Jaune worried, she loved him for that… She loved him, loved him more then others. More then anyone else.

But it wasn’t the same type of love she always felt, always knew, no, this was different, she wanted to both love him and be loved by him. To be loved as Toga Himiko, by Jaune, she didn’t want him to conform to her standard of love.

It wouldn’t be fair, it’d be like who she was forced to follow the standard society before she met him, she wanted to love Jaune as herself but also as him whenever the fancy struck her. But she also wanted to love him as Ren did, as Nora did, as so many of his students did…

And soon, she would be able to, today would be the start of it, a plated landed in front of her then, and looking up she met his smile.

“Are you ready Toga, your three will be trying out for Beacon today after all. So you all need to eat up.” He served her her breakfast, more than Ren’s but nothing near the mountain of pancakes he placed before her eccentric sister. But then again the pile her put before himself was barely any smaller. He needed it after all, because he regularly gave her blood, regularly accepted her form of expressing it and indulged that aspect of her.

She loved him for it, wanted to love him even more, even deeper, more intimately then any other, and once she passed Initiation she would. She only hoped that when she did succeed, her partner would be as understanding as her.

Maybe even being able to understand her love, Or Better Yet! Maybe They’ll Love Jaune As Much As She Does! Oh ‘Giggle’ she meant Professor Arc.

#toga himiko #jaune arc #prof. arc #au concept

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 25

Holy crap I'm so sorry that this has taken so long to get out. I'm still trying to get over my slump, but hopefully, it'll be dead and gone soon.

I really hope you enjoy this! Our reader and Mihawk are finally doing the deed!

Warnings! SMUT SMUT SMUT hopefully thats all i need to say lol.

Masterlist

You freeze above Mihawk. Did he want to have sex with you? Right now? The thought makes snow spout and shower around you, dropping the temperature of the room by several degrees.

It's not that you don't want to. You do! But you've never had sex before, and you don't think your books do a very good job of explaining the concept. Your silence must have stretched for too long. You feel Mihawk tighten his hold, and his voice is full of concern when he speaks up, though you can still hear desperation wrapped around every word.

“We don't have to, Darling, but I have desired you for so long, and my patience is growing thin,” the warlord had wanted you for a long time, but he could wait longer if you wished. No one could ever say he wasn’t a gentleman.

“O-of course I want you!” You blurt before Mihawk can take his offer back or something equally silly again, “I want to have sex. I want to feel you, too.”

You lick your lips in thought, trying to figure out how to explain to Dracule. You're nervous, of course. This was a big step for you, but you trusted Mihawk to do this right.

Hawkeye watches you closely, seeing your nerves come in and make it hard for you to think. He's seen this happen before, and it would not be the first time Mihawk has pulled you out of your head, but he only smiles gently up at his angel and squeezes your hips to catch your attention. The warlord had no complaints about walking his dear one through what was to happen.

“Would it make you feel better if I explained everything as we go?”

You consider the offer and find that the thought of Mihawk explaining his actions makes you feel better, so you nod and squeeze his shoulders, “Yeah, I think I'd like that.”

Dracule gives you a nod, and he starts up those soothing strokes along your hips again. The most important thing here was to keep you comfortable. There was no joy or pleasure in the act of sex when his partner was not secure in the situation. You, above all else, deserved that from him, “Do you want to start now?”

‘Yes,” you whisper, eyes locked with Mihawk's molten gaze as he smirks in satisfaction.

The warlord moves silently, rolling the two of you over until your back is pressed into the mattress. His fingers find the edge of your sleep shirt, playing with the hem of the soft material, “I'm going to take this off now.”

You nod, sitting up to help him. Mihawk flings it to the floor, and then he looks down to admire the perky breasts in front of him. You look radiant in the low light of the bedroom, and the wine he had earlier makes him burn even hotter for you. He reaches out, tweaking your left nipple harshly while his free hand smooths up to gently cup the side of your neck. You watch him through lidden eyes, lips caught between your teeth as you shiver from the twinge of pleasure.

“So sensitive, sweet thing,” Mihawk croons and tweaks your nipple again with a content sigh, “You’ve had my fingers inside of your cunt before, remind me how many?”

“Th-three,” you stutter out and flush at the reminder. It shouldn’t make you blush so much still considering at least one of the days Mihawk or Shanks stays while here is solely dedicated to exploring your body. They were both givers, but now and then, they would be selfish for your mouth around their dick.

“Such a good girl for remembering,” Mihawk murmurs and sits back, devious fingertips leaving your throat and breasts to trail down your stomach and pluck at the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, “Lift your hips, dear.”

You do as you're told, lifting your hips, and Dracule snags both your shorts and the soft cotton undies you wear. After he flings them to the floor, Mihawk leans up and grabs the pillow that’s been designated as Shanks’ and pats your hip, “One more time.”

The warlord slips the pillow under your hips, adjusting it until you assure him that you are comfortable, “This will make penetration easier, though the angle will let me go deeper,” Mihawk warns, and you give a slow nod, showing him that were paying attention.

Like this, you are fully exposed to him, and Mihawk takes his time to lavish your legs with attention. Smoothing his hands down to your ankles and massages your muscles. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing the inside of your knee and making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. Hawkeye smirks against your skin and does it again before suddenly digging his teeth in and making you shout.

Before you can protest, the warlord soothes the bite with a swipe of his tongue and a kiss to the imprints of his teeth. It would not be the last mark he would leave on your skin tonight. You were a canvas, and he was determined to paint you the way he saw fit.

Mihawk lawyers your leg only to bring up the other one, kissing along your ankle and up your knee, giving it the same attention as the other. He kisses the inner part of your knee just to hear you giggle before he moves up, sucking bruises into the plush skin of your inner thighs.

Dracule and Shanks always impress upon you that they wanted you to tell them what felt good, even if you didn’t use words to express yourself. The way your body arced and strained for Mihawk’s touch spoke volumes of how much he affected you. You whine when the awful man licks down your thigh and to the apex of your legs.

Mihawk greets your pussy like an old friend, tongue swirling through your folds and then up to wrap around your clit, sucking gently and you spread your legs for him, sighing and tossing an arm over your eyes. You leak around his tongue, cunt quivering, and you are so so close, but then the warlord is pulling back and reaching forward to toss your arm off your face.

“You need to be properly wet and stretched before I fuck you,_,” Dracule explains, and smirks at your frustrated look. He ignores it, for now, tonight would not be one for his darker desires and sits back between your thighs, one hand maneuvering one of your legs back on his shoulder, “I want you to watch me.”

You angle yourself, sitting up on your arms to be able to get a proper view of Mihawk's actions, and the devious man rewards you by placing a soft kiss to your calf, “Do me a favor, sweet thing, and slick these up for me.”

Mihawk presses his middle and ring fingers to your lips, and you open up without thought, groaning when the warlord stuffed your mouth with the digits. He presses down on your tongue, and saliva pools in your mouth, coating his fingers before he releases the pressure to gently slide them in and out past the ring of your lips. His eyes track the way your throat works, memorizing the sight and storing it away safely.

Properly slick, Dracule slips his fingers from your mouth, and then slides them through the folds of your pussy, and the combined mess of spit and slick causes embarrassing and lewd sounds to fill the room.

“I'm going to put my finger inside you, now,” Mihawk murmurs quietly. His middle finger finds your entrance, and you watch, lips caught between your teeth as he sinks his finger inside you, all the way down to the knuckle.

You keen at the intrusion, cunt tightening and walls fluttering as Mihawk sets a steady pace, soon adding the other soaked digit and making you hiss at the slight stretch.

The warlord looms over You, bending your body until the stretch is nearly too much. He bends, balancing on his knees as his free hand captures your jaw and brings his angel in for a kiss. Mihawk, the impressive man, matches his kissing how he fucks you with his fingers, lips pulling at your own and sliding his tongue past your lips to give you a taste of yourself.

Mihawk loves the sounds that you make for him, and if wasn't getting so impatient to feel your cunt around his dick, he would take longer to pull them from you. However, his cock is straining against his sleep pants and staining the soft material with precum. It's almost painful in the way it throbs, and Dracule is desperate for relief.

He breaks the kiss, and you fall back, head hitting the pillow, and you gasp for precious oxygen. You moan when his thumb finds your clit, and Mihawk runs harsh circles into the nub. You shudder under him, legs shaking and hands digging so tightly into the sheets that you fear you'll rip them. You leak around his knuckles, and confusion settles over your flushed face when he pulls his fingers free.

Mihawk shoves his sleep pants down, and he hisses when the cool air touches his dick. He is painfully hard, and he grasps the base, scooting forward to rub the head of his cock through your folds, “I'm going to put it in. Are you ready?”

Dracule watches the way your pupils dilate, eyes shining with lust and you nod jerkily, tongue coming out to wet your lips, “Please fuck me, Mihawk.”

The warlord doesn't need to be told twice, and shifts forward, head of his cock sliding inside your waiting cunt. Mihawk curses, brows furrowing at how fucking tight you are. He pauses there, allowing you to adjust to his size, and only slips deeper when you give him a soft okay.

It takes a bit, but soon, Dracule bottoms out, heavy balls presses flush to your sensitive skin and causing him to groan. He stays still, teeth clenched as your walls flutter and pulse around him, dragging him deeper into your stuffed cunt.

“Y-you can move, now,” your voice, thick with unshed tears and pleasure rocked him, and with a low snarl, Mihawk rocked forward, before pulling out half way just to sink back inside. You whine, head thrown back and Dracule looks down to take in the way your pussy sucks him down perfectly.

Mihawk sets a steady pace, hips snapping forward. His hands find your hips, fingertips digging in and most likely leaving marks as he speeds up, cock dragging along your walls, and leaving you a cursing mess.

Everything felt overwhelming, oversensitive, over everything. You've always enjoyed the way Mihawk's devious fingers stretch you out, but having his cock open you up was something incredible. You angle your hips, pressing back into his thrusts, and your eyes blow wide when his dick shoved into that spongy spot deep inside. Dracule does it again, and you wail, hands finding his shoulders to hold on for dear life as he abuses that spot inside of you.

“That's it, sweet thing,” Mihawk hisses above you and leans down, bending you up and pressing your knees into the mattress beside your head. The angle is even better this way, and you look down to watch the way Dracule pistons in and out of your cunt. Mihawk can tell that you are close by the way you keep clenching around him, and he smooths one hand from your hip, thumb finding your clit and pressing down just enough that it ends you over the edge.

Dracule curses, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as you come undone, gushing around the warlord so much that slick leaks past your folds to stain your inner thighs. He doesn't stop, pace steadying out as he fucks you through your first orgasam. He leans in, sealing his lips to yours in a kiss that leaves you crying for more.

Mihawk delivers, sending you over the edge twice more and soaking the sheets in sweat and juices. He has shifted, lowering your legs and slowing to a gentle pace that purposely ruts into your sweet spot. He is close, balls tight and swollen as he slides in and out of your slick hole. The two of you are tangled together, legs intertwined with one of your arms tossed around his neck to keep him close.

“I'm close, Angel,” Mihawk rumbles and presses his face in the crook of your neck to breathe you in, “Can I come inside you?”

Just the thought of being able to feel Dracule pulse and paint your inside was enough to send shivers all over your body. You nod, kissing the side of his face, “Yes.”

Mihawk nods once, and then he switches to a faster, more erratic pace. His rhythm is off, and it makes you feel powerful to see such a beautiful man come undone because of you. It's enough to make you clench around him again, your body wringing out one last orgasam for him. That tension breaks, and Dracule groans your name as he finishes.

You feel him come inside you, scorching semen splashing your walls and filling you to the brim. The combined fluids of your juices and his cum leak around his cock, and the amount that pools under you when he pulls out is obscene.

The two of you lay there panting, and it takes Mihawk longer than he would have thought to move. He rises carefully, moving off you and the bed. He stumbles to the bathroom and retrieves a wet rag, first cleaning himself and his thighs before loping back to the bedroom to clean you up.

Mihawk crawls back in the bed with you, body work and mind tired as he wraps you up in his arms. You snuggle into his chest, pressing your face into the muscles there and sighing heavily. He strokes your back and kisses the top of your head, “Are you okay?”

You nod against him, kissing his chest delicately, “I'm fine. I really liked it.”

Mihawk smirks at your admission, pride making him smirk and puff up like a bird. You snicker at him and then yawn loudly, eyes closing. You feel satisfied, body sore in the best ways. You feel him press a kiss to your hair, “Good, now get some rest, Angel.”

You definitely don't need to be told twice, and it takes less than a minute for you to drop off to sleep, your light snores already filling the room.

Dracule follows after you, holding you tight and not planning on ever letting his precious angel go. You are his, mind, body, and soul.

-----------

The next morning, Mihawk gets up and leaves long enough to go to the bathroom and draw a bath. Your tub is large enough to fit both of them, though it would be a tight squeeze. He ensures the temperature is just on the right side of hot before he lopes back to the bedroom.

However, before he can slip back inside, he hears the sound of your snail transponder going off, and there was only one other person beside himself that had your number. He quickly answers it before the ringing can wake you up.

Ca-lick

“Yoo do know that it is an ungodly hour to be calling, don't you, Red?” Mihawk sneers over the phone.

“Awee, Hawkeye, so you do miss me,” Shanks sounds delighted to hear from the other man, and it brings a reluctant smile to Mihawk's face.

“You shouldn't put words in my mouth,” Mihawk sniffs and knows it's the wrong thing to say when Shanks snickers over the receiver.

“Heh, I got something you can put in your mouth.”

The sigh that escapes him is long and world weary, but he had walked straight into that one, “You are terrible, Red.”

Shanks laughs on the other side again, “You know it, Baby.”

He continues before Mihawk can make a snarky quip, “Anyway, I called to let you know that I'm about a day and a half out from the island.”

“_, will be happy to see you,” Mihawk tells him, and even across the sea, he can feel the joy that the Emperor wears like a blanket, “So will I.”

Shanks hums on the other side, and his voice is full of warm affection, “I'll be there as soon as I can, Baby. I miss the two of you, too.”

Mihawk feels his face grow hot at the sincerity, and he is glad that he is alone in the living room, “Be safe, Shanks.”

The other man assures Mihawk that he will be and then ends the call. Dracule hums to himself and then turns to lope back to the bedroom.

Inside, you are still curled up on your side, your arm tucked under one of your pillows, and Mihawk admires the curve of your body in the low light of the room. A smirk slides across his lips when he sees how swollen your cunt is, and he recalls with a sigh how beautifully you clenched around him as you came around his cock.

The warlord kneels on the bed beside you, hands finding your shoulders to push you to your back. He looms over You, leaning down to press sweet kisses to your cheek and then to your lips.

You wake up with a groan at all the commotion, eyes cracking open to see the sight of Mihawk holding himself up above you, “G’morning.”

Dracule hums at your greeting, pulling away to look down at you with a quirk of his lips, “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

You stretch in bed, sighing when your body protests, back popping, and you reach for Mihawk, twining your fingers with his own, “Sore, but good.”

The warlord nods, and brings you hand up to kiss along your knuckles and then gently tugs you, “Come, I've run us a bath.”

Being clean sounds incredible, so you don't protest and go scoot to the edge of the bed. Mihawk stops you, and then bends, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom.

You giggle at the sweet treatment, head resting against his shoulder as Mihawk shoves the door open. He shuts it back before Hank or Sukuna could sneak in and carefully begins to lower you into the steaming water. It feels divine against your chilled skin and you gladly sink lower.

Mihawk tells you to shift forward, and he lowers himself behind you, pulling you back into his chest and splaying his legs on either side of your own, bracketing you in. It's nice to just enjoy his company, and you hum one of your favorite songs as you trace random patterns on his chest.

Dracule relaxes against the edge of the tub, hands finding your thighs to gently trail his fingers back and forth. The touch sends shivers up your spine, and you turn to kiss his chest.

“Shanks will be here in the next day or so. He called earlier,” Mihawk murmurs and the news brings a smile to your face. His hands splay wide, fingertips dipping down to the apex of your thighs, “He will want you, too.”

You flush, arousal already curling low in your stomach. You wonder how Shanks will want you, if he will be rough with you, selfish and taking like he is with everything else.

“What about you?” You ask quietly, and you can hear the mischievous tone that paints his voice when Dracule speaks up.

“Me? I'm going to enjoy the show."

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax

#one piece #fanfic #reader insert #dracule mihawk #fluff #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x you #opla mihawk #opla dracule mihawk #sugar daddy dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #mihawk x shanks #mishanks x reader #mishanks #shanks x reader #red haired shanks

[jymwahuwu]

imagine if yanderes cyno and tighnari darlings actually managed to escape them and took the kids with them 😩🤯 they manage to evade them for at least a couple days maybe even weeks...i imagine tighnari and cyno are not at all happy when they are found

these asks should be related, so answer them together!! i actually like the concept of running away and getting caught together🤭 in this content you can be Tighnari or Cyno's wife, it's up to you! 💕

TW: yandere, non-con, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, escape, punishment, abuse of power, unhealthy relationship, spanking, aphrodisiac

Since Tighnari and Cyno are close enough to call their relationship siblings, they must have introduced their partners to each other. Of course you two know each other. You wanna run away with the other huh? Think twice, okay?

For the little housewife at Tighnari's house, now, for your daily life, take care of the fox babies and cook mushroom soup every day, clean and be bred by that man, teach Collei to read new storybooks and grammar. Tighnari always have a desire to reproduce, and it's not uncommon to push you next to a tree and put his swollen cock into your smooth walls. He loves your shyness and panic when you hold down your moans. And, after some Forest Rangers laugh and tell you to get some rest because of your accusations against their Chief Officer, you've stopped thinking that meeting more people might be a chance to be saved. Even when Tighnari tells you that two guests are coming and asks you to prepare, you just nod obediently.

For Cyno's wife, maybe you are a student of Akademiya, or just an ordinary citizen, but it doesn't matter, you don't even know why you are locked up at home by General Mahamatra. Cyno's home is filled with TCG products and some daily necessities, furniture and food. He's not the type to take care of himself. You start taking care of his life whether you like it or not - heating him up some food, cleaning the house and fighting him (in TCG). He also keeps telling you some bad jokes. He's actually kind and gentle, and what you dread are the nights he breeds you - he wants babies and wants you to fully accept the seeds. "Cy-Cyno…!! STOP!!" You gripped the sheets, toes curling as he pressed against your sensitive private parts. Pregnancy is inevitable. Now your babies can run happily in Sumeru city and house.

Cyno occasionally talks to you about his close friend named Tighnari and a little sister named Collei, and takes you and the children to the forest. Gradually, visits became more frequent. You greet each other, the babies are close playmates and friends, and the house fills with the sound of them running across the floor, introducing each other's toys. You ask each other for help one day when your husband isn't there, only to find that they are both equally horrible - why can they do these things? With someone in a similar situation, some hope is kindled in you. You secretly discuss the escape. Well, this is the City of Wisdom, so discuss it in some sensible way, okay? Don't show them any traces. The two of you exchange some codes to discuss and plan your escape route.

One day, the two of you escaped together. The conclusion of the discussion is that you absolutely cannot stay in Sumeru - one of them is in the forest and the other is in the desert, one can arrest and interrogate anyone and the other manages the rainforest area. Fontaine, Liyue, Mondstadt…you can go to any country, but you can't stay here. You run away with the babies, of course. You can't bear to leave them behind. They are scared about the journey, cuddling in your arms, asking questions like "Where are we going?", "Why doesn't papa come with us?" You reassure them, pat them on the back.

The silent and dark rainforest seems to be able to swallow the people inside. You explore according to your memory and experience, you feel wet and real under your feet, and you breathe the smell of freedom mixed with soil, and you can see the moonlight shining brightly when you look up. Occasionally, stepping on a branch and waking a sleeping squirrel makes you hear your own heart beating. The two of you meet up at the appointed place, thankful that each other was not caught by your husband.

Tighnari and Cyno were annoyed at the disappearance of the two of you - and honestly, it kind of pissed them off. You're running away now, and even taking the babies on your little adventure? Really? What kind of mother would run away from home with her babies? What is even more unacceptable is that no letter was left trying to explain your actions. At first, they thought about the danger or accident you might encounter, but all the clues showed that this was your planned escape. Cyno decided to chase you himself. Tighnari knows the details of the woods' rivers, trees, and routes, but the signs are that you have fled to the desert. He's sure it was his wife's suggestion, because you know he hates desert temperatures.

When you have fled to the desert, the orders for the Sumeru border checks have arrived. "This- this is our portrait…?" Finding some of your portraits posted in Caravan Ribat and Aaru Village really makes your stomach sink. Did they have to go this far? After a simple disguise, you temporarily stayed at the inn. You should not stay long as some of the inn staff scan you with confusion and suspicion. In desert areas, you can hire some mercenaries. Knowing that everyone has secrets, they don't ask too many reasons, they just need to send you to the border of Sumeru. And that takes days. Sand and wind all over the sky, the camel rides you forward. During the journey, you turn your head in worry, afraid that General Mahamatra will appear at the end of the desert on the other side.

Think about it - how hopeless is it when you get caught after an adventure and are only a short distance away from reaching other countries? There are still traps in the desert - what's even more unexpected is seeing those familiar fox ears before passing out. And those boots that belonged to him slowly walked in front of you. On the other hand, the one caught by Cyno was not so lucky. There is no way to fall asleep. He looks intimidating. You stammer and explain that you were taken by someone else, try to make up some excuse, but he tells you to shut up or you'll just make things worse. Once you taste the menace and seriousness in his tone, you start sobbing. People around you are looking at you curiously, wondering what you did to get you caught by General Mahamatra. He didn't talk to you much along the way, giving you the silent treatment.

Punishment - You thought you could get away with it after all that happened? Cyno thinks you are just taking advantage of his trust and tenderness in you. When you get home, he forces you to strip to check you for any wounds. You are awkwardly unable to cover your own private parts, feeling weak and small in front of him. Next, Cyno pulls you onto his lap and gives you a long spanking. This time your crying has no effect on his punishment. He puts a bracelet on your wrist - Akademiya's invention for locating and tracking people's location. As for Tighnari's punishment, you had to drink all the aphrodisiac mushroom soup. Your lips are quivering, your nipples are hard, and between your legs is dripping and aching, waiting for your husband to come home. He also used a whole week of bedtime spanking to remind you of the existence of the ruler and paddle at home.

If you thought that Tighnari and Cyno would never allow the two of you to meet again, you were wrong. When the two of you meet, they know it's almost like a humiliation, a reminder of that failed escape. "Stop thinking about your little adventures. Go to the kitchen and bake some cookies when you have time." Tighnari even spoke like this, in a teasing tone. See the way Tighnari's wife sits uncomfortably in the chair? Cyno has been gentle enough to you. He wants you to understand this.

#alani.answers #yandere cyno #yandere tighnari #cyno x you #yandere tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin tighnari x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[bearhugsandshrugs]

What if Durge keeps Gortash alive post-game, but not as an equal, but as a prisoner serving his time?

She gets uneasy thinking about her past. She doesn’t trust Bhaal, the Dead Three, and thus Gortash. Why was he into her? She was fucking murdering people. That’s not normal. That’s abnormal. There’s something wrong with him, no?

So she locks him up. Unwilling to ally, unwilling to kill him. He’s the last tie to her past, after all. To dark and abandoned pieces of her she can’t seem to let go.

But then she needs his help, Karlach needs his help, and he offers it, stoically, reluctantly, but he helps nevertheless.

And from one brief moment of respect spans a weird dynamic: Sometimes, late at night, Durge will visit him in the dungeons. “I understand”, he says, and she never understands what he means. He’s powerless, at her mercy, but he doesn’t even complain. He just follows her lead.

They talk for hours. And more. And more. And then, suddenly, an idea: Maybe he could be put on house arrest instead? That’s how he ends up moving into the same household. How she ends up spending even more time with him.

One night she wakes, screaming from a nightmare of her haunted past, and somehow he’s there. Crawling into bed with her, holding her close, whispering into her hair until she calms. It seems practiced, as if done hundreds of times before, and she falls asleep in his arms.

Was it like that? she asks when she wakes, and he murmurs, Yes and no, but before she can press him to explain, he drifts off to sleep again, exhaustion claiming him so much easier nestled against her back. So she lies, waits, feeling the tender pressure of him against her. There is no memory, nothing that will come to her, and she’s almost disappointed when she realizes.

But then, like igniting a candle, another question fills up the darkness of her mind: Could it be like that? Forever?

Anyway I’m still trying to find a Durgetash concept that works for me… Lmk if this goes into a good direction …

#enver gortash #durge #durgetash #gortash x durge #my writing #drabbles #trying to make myself interested in durgetash day 17

[hana-no-seiiki]

ok Aeon of light Reader has piqued my interests, especially their relation with Nanook. Please make more about them please :D??? It's alright though if you don't want too

END OF A DREAM, BEGINNING OF AN ERA.

notes: OH GOD i forgot to edit the title of the second story. They’re supposed to be the Aeon of the Dream Path + Imaginary element. My bad! I also changed up the timeline there making reader way way more older since I found out Xianzhou residents live for long ass times.

Anyways, thank you! I honestly expected that fic to flop so I’m pleasantly surprised. I spent a long time researching gods to come up with a concept for reader’s path. Very long. Like long enough that I have this obscure fun fact about there being a god called Mama Killa. It partly was because the other Aeon’s concepts / powers are pretty vast (i.e. IX (Nihility) is the god of meaninglessness but can be considered the aeon of insanity and despair as well due to its powers)

[ here is the link to the fic we’re talking about / previous fic ]

YANDERE! NANOOK x READER (AEON OF DREAMS)

warnings: pseudo-incest/godcest, nanook is “born” from your inner hatred towards the universe before he ascended making them technically your child tho this fic can be interpreted as platonic, edgelord aeons, canon divergence. UNEDITED AND RUSHED AF.

I. Ad Somnum Pueri

Hatred always had and will have a root to its madness. Your endless entrapment since your conception ‘birthed’ Nanook. A loathing for existence. A passion for ending every one and every thing. In their path, their destiny, there will be no living beings, there will be no space or time. Only the void, you and the avatar of entropy.

But first they had to take down Yaoshi. After all, even Aeons had to face mortality and if that useless Lan wasn’t capable of keeping you safe in your cradle then it was clear Nanook had to put a hand down.

The Lord of Destruction prided themself for regarding everything — but you — as equal. Everything had to be erased, so there was no point to having favourites or a specific distaste towards another being.

However Yaoshi had broken the camel’s back at your kidnapping. Thus, Nanook decided against their ‘morals’ to give them a special opportunity.

To be the first Aeon whose reverent ichor is in their hands.

II. In Somno In Infinitum

Even after your ascended body was taken and locked away by Yaoshi. You could never argue with the fact that Nanook’s obsession with you remained the most powerful across the universe. You were an Aeon they worshipped vehemently as a young mortal up until now. It was as if they breathed only for you. It came to the point that they even owed their creation to you or not their biological parents.

You were incredibly flattered by such a fact in the beginning. Doting and showering them with blessings, assisting them in the goals in both the waking and slumbering world.

Sleepwalkers was what your scholars called the vessels you used to do your godly work. And Nanook was known throughout the realms to be your favorite.

But when they made a declaration to be a menace to the world, you withdrew all of your support and contact with Nanook. Utterly disappointed with what they have become.

That did not halt their fame and name as your chosen hero from spreading. Their sheer charisma overpowered your network.

Because if there was one thing that was stronger than dreams it was reality.

Indeed you pleaded with your followers never to follow the Lord of Entropy through their sleeping fantasies, but how could they deny Nanook’s efficiency? Their all-out, unbridled, unfettered adoration of you?

And thus, the Dreamcrawler Legion. Now also known by its other name, the Antimatter Legion, was established. With one goal and one goal alone.

Lay the world in a bed of flames and ruin. For when they everyone else goes to eternal sleep, you — their ever generous, loving Aeon — will be free.

III. Mundus Erit Terminus

You never visited Nanook after their ascension. You only ever loved their mortal self. Their path was something you could never hope or desire to follow. Sure, there was a phase of your life where you despised your eternal sleep. But what you learnt from living so long was that acceptance of your situation felt infinitely better than spending eternity filled with loathing.

But Nanook always visited you. While Yaoshi burdened themselves with the task of witnessing your body while asleep. Nanook enjoyed it much more when you talked, your words of guidance — though now reduced to silence — was what made them fall in love with the you who spoke, who moved, who looked at them with open eyes through dreams.

It didn’t matter if you moved your target of hatred to them. Nanook’s love was unconditional and blind as his desire to seek destruction.

“My lord.” Nanook forced you into an embrace. Within their dreams, even when it was your domain, you felt as powerless as you did with Yaoshi. Their golden ichor bled unto your clothes.

They could see you. Your face, your entrancing features, just as he always had, just as he always wanted to. But it lacked a certain glow, a loss they attributed to Yaoshi digressions. Because they knew for certain that your love for them never disappeared. You were too benevolent, too magnanimous. “[Y/N]. My promise is soon to be fulfilled.”

“Every cage you have been trapped in will be gone.” Every cage but his love. Every chain but his arms.

“And you can finally feel the beauty of reality once more.”

A reality that was completely reset and build back up by them.

Translations:

Ad Somnum Pueri - Go to Sleep Child

In Somno In Infinitum - In Endless Dreams / Sleep

Mundus Erit Terminus - The World (shall) End.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere nanook x reader #nanook x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere star rail

[the-sage-libriomancer]

Shigure's relationship with Kyo drives me crazy. he doesn't hate Kyo in the slightest - in fact, he pities Kyo, and not in the condescending "oh you poor little boy, cursed to be a horrible, disgusting monster" sort of way that everyone else does. Shigure pities Kyo for the reason he should be pitied: he's just a kid caught up in a system so inhumane it can't possibly be survived without some seriously unhealthy coping mechanisms.

and it drives me crazy because - listen, Shigure is the only zodiac member who's emotionally aware enough to see the other zodiac members as exactly what they are. he knows Yuki is a severely traumatized kid who projects all of his self-hatred on a single convenient target. he knows Akito is really a scared little girl with a raging god complex (literally) and no concept of a healthy relationship. and he knows Kyo is a regular-ass human being who doesn't deserve to be locked up for the rest of his life just because some arbitrary system says so. he KNOWS it's stupid. he KNOWS it's ridiculous and unfair. and he has to share a house with Kyo knowing that Kyo is living with a sword over his head, hating himself and hating others in perfect tandem because he has no other way of coping with the insane amounts of negativity he's had to deal with his entire life.

but the thing about Shigure is that he KNOWS all of this, and the same time he doesn't really CARE. he feels sorry for Kyo, but an apathetic sort of pity, a disinterested "this is how it is. such a shame." sort of pity. in some ways he's worse than the other zodiacs because he DOES see Kyo as a person, someone he likes being around even, but he still considers Kyo below his attention because all his focus is on Akito and breaking the curse. and sure, once the curse is broken Kyo will theoretically be set free with the rest of them, but that's more of a coincidental side effect than anything. despite being in a much more dangerous and precarious mental space AND comfortably in Shigure's reach, Kyo is about as much a priority for Shigure as Ritsu or Momiji.

and it drives me CRAZY because i think Shigure does start actively caring about Kyo as the series goes on, but it's hard to tell when that happens and to what extent. when Kazuma told Shigure he planned to reveal Kyo's true form and Shigure said he was going too far - whose sake was it for? was Shigure trying to protect Kyo, who would be hideously traumatized/emotionally scarred by such a cruel betrayal? was he trying to protect Kyo and Tohru's relationship, which was still formulating and might, under such severe testing, ultimately end up damaged beyond repair? was he only trying to protect Tohru, who wasn't ready to be burdened by such a horrible aspect of the curse so soon, or perhaps simply didn't deserve it? or was it all for the sake of himself, trying to protect his still-forming plans of using Tohru's positive effect on the Sohmas to break the curse?

Shigure cares about Kyo, but they're not close and Kyo clearly isn't a priority. he treats Kyo like a person - offering him genuine advice, teasing him like he teases anyone else, even speaking up on his behalf once or twice - and yet he's too entrenched in the long game to spare much active interest in Kyo. for a very long time, he doesn't care about Kyo the way he cares about Yuki or Tohru, and it's never made clear when exactly that changed. and the thing that gets me about this whole situation is that right from the start, Shigure is in a position where he can meet Kyo at his level - as equals, just one human being to another - but he doesn't, because Shigure is a chessmaster, Shigure is someone who observes and calculates, Shigure never steps in unless one of his chess pieces makes a wrong move and he absolutely has to.

it drives me crazy. Shigure drives me crazy. this series drives me so so crazy.

#i think my point here was “shigure sees kyo as an actual human being but still treats him badly” #which is kind of the point of shigure - it's why he's such a gray character #he plays with people's lives like they're toys #but this post actually originated from the realization that shigure doesn't hate kyo in the slightest #(honestly i don't think the majority of the zodiac actually *dislikes* kyo. i think they're just too used to dehumanizing him) #and i was like “okay. so how *does* shigure view kyo?” #and then i thought about it more and went progressively more insane #tbf i think shigure knew he was being immoral in the way he treated kyo #he's incredibly self-aware and knows exactly what he's doing #he just chooses to do it anyway. that's why he calls himself “despicable” #i think the fact that kyo clearly suspects shigure has something more going on under the surface probably didn't help either #it's a very interesting sort of complex #anyway. them #fruits basket #shigure sohma #kyo sohma #analysis #edited for your convenience #(<-capitalized all the names bc it was driving me up the wall)

[vitamin-cunt]

“Mr. Perfect”| Pervert! Iida Tenya x Reader

A/N: GN! Reader, loss of virginity, Dom! Reader, Sub! Tenya, anal fingering, (Tenya's a prick, lets be honest), hope this isn't too niche bc I wanna write a pt 2

(Well, turns out it wasn’t too niche, so here’s a link to pt. 2)

You’d failed your test yet again. That brought your grade down by a few percentages. Still, a bad score on a test was the least of your worries. What really concerned you was-

“These grades are horrible, and not at all reflective of the values held by the Iida family!”

-Iida fucking Tenya.

You had no idea where this strange idea that you were apart of his family had appeared from. Sure, the two of you had grown up in the same house, but you weren’t even treated equally. He was the son of a well-established family tree and you were the child of his maid.

“Good thing I’ll be out of your hair in a few months, then,” you say, snatching your paper and bad score from his grip. Away from that school, this house, and him.

You couldn’t stand him. His perfect grades, his perfect manners, his perfect looks-

Fuck, it pissed you off to even look at him.

“Just because you’re in your last year, doesn’t mean you get to slack off!” Tenya says, grabbing the paper back. “This is the third test in a row that you’ve failed! Don’t you want to pass?”

You resign yourself to his bed, not even bothering to take your paper back.

“You piss me off, you know that?” You tell him bluntly, flopping backward on his bed.

“Don’t use such indecent language! Especially not in this sacred house!”

“Okay, President Prude.”

His face soured at that. Over the years, it had proven to be your favorite, and consequently, his least liked, nickname.

Though it seemed he didn’t mind Mr. Perfect.

It seemed he an an inflated sense of ego, or at the very least a ridiculous amount of family pride. He also felt he could scold you since he always had perfect scores, always had perfect manners, and always looked perfect.

Always.

Even now, in his loose dress shirt, black jeans, and swept back hair, he looked like…you didn’t know, a model or some shit.

He was better than you.

And it seemed the both of you knew it.

“I ask you get off my bed, unless you plan on studying with me,” he says, approaching his bed.

Even the way he walked was perfect. Graceful, an air of superiority that followed him around like some dark cloud.

“We both know you don’t study for 5 hours straight,” you scoff, turning your head toward his nightstand and fiddling with all of the drawers. “You know what, I actually do wonder what you’re doing during all that time.” You pull at a particular drawer which was locked for some reason.

You actually hear him laugh, almost belittling you.

“I’m not surprised that you can’t imagine someone being responsible,” he says. "It's disappointing that even with someone like me as a role model, you can't seem to grasp the concept of responsibility."

"What's in here?" You ask, ignoring his comment. The lock seemed loose.

What would the Perfect Tenya Iida have to hide?

"The contents of my drawer are none of your-"

"What, are there dildos in there?"

He paused, seemingly shocked at the insinuation. His face...it had turned the slightest shade of pink. He was caught off guard, shocked and-

For the first time, he had lost his composure.

You kind of liked seeing him like that.

"I-I...no there aren't any...indecent items...in that drawer."

You raise a brow, a small smirk playing at your lips. "How did you know dildos are indecent?"

"W-well-"

"Tenya, how do you know what a dildo is?"

After a few moments of Iida stuttering incoherently, the lock finally gave way, revealing the contents of the drawer to be-

SLAM!

Tenya had taken to leaping at his nightstand and slamming the drawer shut.

He was hunched over, face, ears, and neck ablaze, his eyes frantically searching your face.

"W-woah, Tenya, I was just-"

"Get out."

You pause for a moment, unused to seeing him this- this angry? Scared??

You get up quickly, leaving the room silently despite your mind racing. His face, the reactions, that drawer???

Perhaps the perfect president had dirty desires…

___

You came back because, admittedly, you were fucking curious as to what was in that drawer.

What could make the composed, cool Tenya react like that?

You found yourself outside his door, contemplating whether or not to knock.

You were at a loss.

You thought back to the fact that he'd kept his door locked since your interaction, meaning your mom, who usually made cleaning rounds around that time, wouldn't have been able to clean his room.

You stood up straight, knocked at his door, and tried your best to sound like your mom. "M-master Tenya?" You called out, timidly. "I'm here...t-to, uh..." You lose your train of thought as another sound began to permeate your ears.

Why...why did you hear buzzing?

"I ask that you leave me be as of right now, Y/N."

Well, fuck.

You take another breath and try again; that odd buzzing noise having to be pushed to the back of your mind.

"Well, you got me," you say, leaning closer to the door. "I'm not actually here to clean your room. I'm, uh...here to fix your lock! The one on your drawer."

"Y/N, I'm going to ask one last time that you leave. I know following directions is hard for someone as incompetent as you, but you'll have to manage."

Now, you were pissed.

"You know what, Tenya?" You begin, practically leaning against the door. "Fine. I'm stupid, incompetent, and unmotivated. You're better than me, smarter than me, hotter than me, and you're from the perfect family. I'm nothing but your fucking maid, alright? But you know what? How about you say that shit to my face instead of-"

"Leave."

The door swung open, revealing a very sweaty, very red Tenya. You weren't sure if he was red from anger, or something else.

Something that was too good to be true.

He glared down at you, panting ever so slightly.

It was just now that you noticed his muscular build. Muscles that were well defined and visible through his shirt, a chisled jaw line that was as straight and defined as him, peircing eyes that made one thing clear.

He was not in the mood to banter.

He was domineering but-

-vibrating. The sound wasn't buzzing, it was vibrating.

You look past him and into his room where you could barely see the flash of something red, bumpy, and big. He steps in your way, attempting to block your view.

But he was too fucking late.

You grin, genuinely overjoyed by the revelation. “I fucking knew it,” you begin, taking a step closer to him.

His face grows pale when he realizes just what is was that you had discovered.

“I fucking knew it!” You jab your finger into his chest, taking him by surprise and causing him to stumble.

Grave mistake.

You push yourself into his room, ignoring his stuttering attempts to stop you from entering.

His drawer, which was now wide open, was filled to the brim with toys upon toys.

Sex toys.

Each of which were carefully placed in clear bags with labels on them.

You look back at the man, who had fallen against his bed, next to a dildo that had to be at least 8 inches.

He was trembling.

You were making Tenya tremble.

Your eyes glance down at his shorts which were oozing with precum, his cock, which was large, seemingly haphazardly stuffed into his underwear without a second thought.

He sees you watching and rubs his thighs together, the bulge in his shorts evidently twitching. “D-don’t look…” he whispered, bringing his fist to his face and looking away. He began squirming under your gaze, his arousal showing through the drip of his pants, and flush of his face. “Please, d-don’t…you can’t see me like this.”

See him like what?

In the most pathetic state you’d ever seen him in?

You approach his bed, door successfully closed behind you. When you reach him, you lean down, your lips grazing the cold edges of his ear to whisper one simple thing.

“Pervert.”

He gasps shakily, only making you laugh.

“Role model my ass,” you spit, pushing him flat against his back. He moans, outright moans, at the force you use. He doesn’t fight back even though he could easily overtake you.

Your fingers hook around his waist band, and you pull his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. “You act all high and mighty but can’t even keep your cock clean when-”

You pause, your day only getting better.

You can’t help it, you begin laughing, loudly.

Under his shorts, under his boxers, Tenya adorned a bright red thong.

Your bright red thong.

“You’re…you’re such a pervert!” You say through teary laughter. “No, no, better yet, you’re just as bad as me! Worse, even!” Your hands slip beneath him and to his ass. You pull his lower half toward you, leaving him gripping the sheets beneath himself.

“God, Tenya, you made my fucking day.”

He throws his face to the side of his pillow, his expression something pitiful.

Something beautiful.

Eyes wide, face scrunched up, and tears slipping down his burning cheeks.

A perfect face crumbling by your own hands.

“All that time…you weren’t even studying,” you say, still snickering. You hook the thin string of the thong to your fingers, making him visibly shake in your hands.

“I-I do! I do study, please, you have to believe m-me!” His lower body was still held against you, meaning his back was in a pathetic arch. His hands were reaching above him to grip his bedsheets for dear life. Perhaps he was also reaching for a semblance of dignity for dear life too.

“Nope, President pervert!” You say, unable to stop your laughter. "Oh, God, this is gonna be fun!" You let go of the string, hearing the satisfying crack it made against his skin.

He grit his teeth, though a soft whimper still slipped through.

Perhaps…you were the first person to see Tenya like this.

“Hey, President pervert," you whisper, leaning down toward his face, getting a good look. The buzzing, your realized, was coming from that dildo. You hand slips between his cheeks and to his hole, which was already slick and, from what you guessed, prepped.

Loose.

"You're making it pretty hard to guess, so tell the truth, alright?" You were a knuckle deep. Your finger had slipped in so easily despite his desperate clenching against it.

"Virgin..." Two knuckles deep. "...or whore?" You curl your finger inside him.

He jerks upward, a breathy gasp leaving his quivering lips.

His eyes look back and forth at you. There was no good answer. You'd find a way to use it against him anyway.

"I'm..." He clears his throat, trying to find the strength to speak.

But how could he speak with your finger so close to that spot? That spot that left him writhing and groaning and whining uncontrollably when he even went near it?

That spot that he desperately wanted you to hit?

"I'm a virgin," he whispered through tears.

Fuck.

You slip another finger inside, both of which had curled and begun attacking exactly where he needed it most.

He had almost pulled off his sheets from how hard his was gripping them. He'd begun outright crying from humiliation and arousal.

Your other hand had shifted to his cock, which he didn't even bother trying to fit into the thong.

You stroked it, unsure if he'd used lube, or he was simply that aroused.

His entire body, strong, muscular, chisled body, was twitching and writhing uncontrollably beneath you.

He had given himself up to pleasure.

Why couldn't you?

You pressed your lips against his, pushing your tongue through his lips, and kissed him.

He was being attacked from everywhere.

His mouth, his lips, his ass.

It was too much.

"Fu-uuck, mmmh, I'm g-going to- ahhh!"

He gasped, harder and harder against your lips as he reached his climax.

You felt him clench unbelievably tight against your fingers, and you knew he was close. Your strokes had quickened and your kiss had grown almost possessive.

You pressed your fingers directly against his prostate.

Fuck.

Suddenly, whatever pressure that had been building inside him had been released.

He moaned through his climax, through the hot, thick ropes of cum, through his tears, through his trembling, fuck, he was shaking so badly.

You watched as Tenya and his facade of perfection fell apart beneath you.

"Not so perfect, are we?"

#dom reader #sub boy #sub bnha #sub character #bnha x reader #mha x reader #sub iida #sub tenya #sub iida tenya

[gabessquishytum]

Spooky season holdover

For as long as people can remember, Prince Morpheus has had a pet wolf. It is his constant companion; the young prince even talks to it, seen holding long conversations with the animal.

When they were young, for they grew together, most thought the animal was a dog. However, Morpheus's pet is most definitely some form of Direwolf - for it is enormous, coming up to young Morpheus's waist and equally as bulky, with a frame built for hunting or fighting. Many in the Court would be concerned for the prince's safety if so many hadn't seen the animal happily receive belly rubs and letting the village children ride him; it is somewhat surprising that the animal wasn't neutered though. But no one had ever seen the wolf be aggressive.

What no one, but the royal family knew, was that Dream's "pet" was fostered royalty himself -- Crown Prince Robert Gadling, of an old powerful shifter (werewolf) royal line. He and Dream were betrothed and it was thought best that they grow together, learning to care for one another.

When a rival nation kidnapped Prince Morpheus to force his marriage to their heir, there were those in the kingdom who tried to lock the wolf up - he it was going crazy and couldn't be subdued. Somehow, it escaped the cellar where they chained it up.

Two days after he escaped Prince Morpheus walked into the castle with his blood covered wolf at his side.

AJSJDHDHSH this is such a concept!!!!

Like. Imagine the absolute shock when Dream and his wolf walk into the throne room. The courtiers rush to check Dream over for any injuries, so nobody even notices that the wolf has... shifted? Instead of the large beast, there's a broad shouldered man with shaggy dark hair. He's also naked. And everyone who ever suggested that the wolf should be neutered suddenly finds themselves blushing heavily and looking away.

Dream proclaims his intention to marry his fiance now that they are both of age. It should help to avoid any future incidents of kidnapping if the Prince is known to have a very strong, very possessive husband. Fortunately someone has finally given Prince Robert a cloak to wrap around himself so he can proudly stand by his intended husband with his arm wrapped protectively around his waist. It's pretty obvious to everyone that the two of inseparable.

Everyone who used to get annoyed with the presence of the wolf is shitting their pants thinking that they're going to be exiled from court, but fortunately Hob is very forgiving. He's not quite so good natured to those who locked him up and prevented him from immediately rescuing his Prince, however.

Hob still spends a lot of time in wolf form, laying at his husband's feet or walking the halls at his side. But sometimes he'll appear in human form. The servants who tend to the Royal bedrooms grow quite used to the sight of Dream in a state of fucked out exhaustion, while Hob winks playfully and holds his future husband.

Will there be pups in springtime? At this point, no one would be surprised.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw mpreg

[dnsbarbie]

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (FOUR)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc X Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated French, degrading headline, people who don’t mind their own business

Note: There’s a reason I’m dragging the fuck out of this story. It’s gonna be worth it, I promise !!!!

❝Dear reader,

If it feels like a trap, you’re

already in one ❞

THE BRILLIANT ILLUMINATED ELEVATOR cradled through the rapidly infectious tension in Natalia’s bloodstream. The gap between her and the equally as anxious Monegasque caused the ongoing brawl in their heads to amplify. She glanced down at the carpeted flooring, casually shifting her gaze to the shuffling feet of her company.

She let her thoughts wonder somewhere else, opting to think about the disastrous path they had to conquer in order to acquire the tranquility they have at the moment. Although, her trembling hands and the intensive battering of her chest generated the thought that perhaps road raging in Charles’ Ferrari to avoid the prying eyes of the general public provided a greater deal of enjoyment than this.

“I was thinking,” Charles spoke, moistening his drought lips. “Since it’s your first time here in Netherlands, I’d like you to try authentic Dutch dishes from the restaurant the team took me to last year.”

Natalia nodded, half of her mind floating into a dreamless space. “That sound great,” She faced him, hoping to defy the rising tide of her anxiety. “I honestly didn’t know anything about Dutch culture until I did a quick research about their food.”

Charles didn’t contain his smile, finally looking at the brunette. His gaze journeyed to her luscious naturally straight chestnut locks, previously tied into a neat ponytail but was now released from the gathered style, falling graciously passed her shoulders.

He snapped back into his regular self as he reached the line of her eyes. Immediately saving himself as he followed up on her statement. “Oh? And what did you find?”

Charles despised the way she’d tuck her bottom lip in her every time she needed a second to gather her thoughts. Couldn’t she just think like a normal person?

“Apparently, there’s this food called Profferjes?” She struggled pronouncing the supposed name given to the delicacy she was referring to.

Charles’ face brightened in amusement at her confused appearance but he nevertheless, nodded, having an idea of what she was talking about.

“The mini pancakes?”

Rhapsody laved across her once perplexed expression, pointing a finger at his direction before confirming his guess.

“Yes! That one— but I think they only serve them in the morning,” She sighed, eyes lingering at Charles. A sudden concept bubbled in her mind, showing in her face as a small simper.

The judgement was also beginning to bloom on Charles’ face as he took note of the naught sparkle in Natalia’s orbs.

“Unless— you know—” She drawled her words, making the smile on the receiver of her antics widen. “Charles Leclerc were to call in—”

He disintegrated into a pile of frenzy at that. Clutching his stomach as his laughter, joined in by Natalia’s own, bounced uncontrollably against the four walls of the enclosed space.

“I’m not sure they’d do their beloved Max Verstappen’s rival a favor.” He acknowledged.

“Oh—right.” Natalia had completely forgotten that Max was Dutch. She knew Charles meant it as a joke but the harsh reality seemed to have overtaken its intended merits.

Then again, she was quick to dispel the impending depressive state. “You know, according to my research, Dutch people are very friendly even if they like speak their mind . . .”

An appreciative hum sounded at the back of Charles’ throat, thankful for her efforts of comfort and the ding of the elevator that indicated their arrival to his floor.

In an unconscious move, he reached for Natalia’s hand, grasping it gently in his. To which the latter responded by gawking at him while they both stalked through the nicely lit corridor.

Charles’ room was two doors away from the very last one, and when they arrived, he tapped in his key card, never seeming to have the intention of releasing the chilling palm that rested in his hold.

As the door opened, along with the grating creak of the door was the heightening of Natalia’s senses. The fresh scent of lavender infiltrated the previous musing scouring at her wits.

She inhaled the saving grace of her sanity, finding the soothing aroma also matched the overall aesthetic of his room.

The fuzzy brown carpet at the center of the room adorned the flooring, to which an oval glass coffee table was placed

“Sit wherever you want,” He said, freeing her hand. “Make yourself feel comfortable.”

As he started to walk away, Natalia bent down balancing her weight with her hand on the doorframe as she untied the laces of her boots.

Charles turned to her, hearing the sudden rustling. “You don’t have to take your shoes off,”

She immediately halted her actions, eyebrows wrinkled at the absurdity of all that. “There’s no way I’m stepping my shoes on a carpet,”

The crease in her eyebrows worsen at that thought of her mother. She could almost see the utter disgust on her face when she finds out Europeans don’t particularly care for what she called “unknown bacteria” spreading through their home.

She set her boots aside, plopping on the pearl colored seating. “My mom would’ve strangled you if she heard you say that,”

Her remark made Charles chuckle, shaking his head on his way to the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Depends.” She thought, reaching for a magazine on the coffee table. “What are you having?”

Natalia heard a series of cabinet creaking followed by clinks of what she assumed was glass.

“Well, of you’re craving something sweet, I have orange juice and iced tea,” He replied, peaking his head on the doorframe.

Charles took in the sight of Natalia’s wandering eyes on his apartment, ignoring the sudden pang of nervousness creeping up on him.

The curious girl whipped her head towards his waiting figure, lips pursing with a uncaring shrug. “I’m good with that. But if you want to drink something. . . stronger, I wouldn’t judge.”

She watched the chuckle bloom out of Charles’ relaxed features, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

While he was arranging beverages, Natalia reviewed what he had observed from his apartment.

Firstly, she found it surprising that he owned a living space in this country. Him always hopping on a jet to different countries every week, defeats the purpose of buying one. It didn’t look like he used it often either.

It had one of those minimal modern designs. Like the ones she’d see whenever she was at Summit Furniture, a furniture store she frequented at in Monaco. She currently sat on a white polyester loveseat with tapered rosewood legs that angled outwards. It all seemed like they’ve just been bought yesterday. No scratches on the wooden legs nor flaws in the fabric seating. Same goes for the rest of his furniture that she had seen so far.

The television looked like it had yet to serve its purpose and the tables be marked with any stain or evidences of usage.

Her deep observation caused a barricading and tension within her sense. The unbelievable tidiness and perfection of her surroundings made her more conscious of her actions.

“Here we are!” Charles’ unforeseen appearance rattled her core, prompting her to sit up straighter. He had brought a tray of various drinks.

Natalia eyed the colorful liquids in different types of glasses. Some in one in a high ball, champagne and cocktail glass. Beside those were a bottle of Heineken and Jenever.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trapping the laughter threatening to pull through, settling for a supportive nod.

“I’m guessing this is the orange juice?” She plucked the high ball glass from the tray, a teasing smile adorning her face.

“Yes, it is,” Charles took out his phone, the unwavering nerves still present in his veins. “I know I said I’ll order for you, but here’s the menu, you might see something you like—”

She raised his hands, shaking her head. “Trust me, the only food I’m sure are gonna be are Stroopwafel and those ball shaped snack I ate at the paddock. Besides, I’m not picky with food, I’ll swallow anything you give me.”

Charles’ thumbs stopped their typing, his lips thinning at the intrusive thought in his head.

Anything, huh?

“You’re disgusting—”

“I didn’t say—”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to! It’s written all over your face!” Natalia growled, motioning to the idiotic smirk hanging of his face across her.

“Think what you want,” Charles chimed, resuming his attention to his device. “That’s what I’m doing anyway hmpf—”

A soft object suddenly collided at his face, laughing as he realized that Natalia had thrown a pillow at him.

He removes it from obstructing his view, glancing up at the glowering figure in front of him, now bringing her lips close to the tall glass of juice.

“Give the phone. . .” She said, extending her arm forwards for Charles to pass her the device.

He hands it to her, inclining his body towards her. “I personally love Hachee, it’s meat with mash potatoes and gravy—”

“Frog legs!”

Charles stopped talking, staring stupidly at her exclamation. A wide smile plastered on her face as she turned the phone towards him and pointed to the certain dish.

“You eat frogs?” Charles didn’t mean for it to sound condescending, but the overpowering shock at this discovery halted all sense of thinking.

“Yeah? And?” At her defensive tone, Charles quickly held his hands up, waving them at her.

“No! That’s not what I mean!” He scratched the back of his head, hoping to ward away the embarrassment of his mistake. “I-I just mean, you’re the first girl I’ve met who’s actually excited to eating frogs,”

Natalia raised an eyebrow at Charles. “That can’t be true, frogs are eaten a lot in Manaco,”

“Doesn’t mean everybody likes them,” Charles remarked, taking the bottle opener from the table before twisting it on a Heineken beer.

Natalia watched him take a sip, crossing her arms at his statement. “You mean to say— of all the Monegasque girls you’ve dated— not a single one ate frogs?”

Charles felt amusement trickling at his through as he spotted the doubt on her face. “Well, I did let them try it.” He restored. “But they either pretended to like it or just straight up told me, quite frankly that they’d rather eat dirt.”

Natalia lights up at that, bringing her hands together in an mirthful clap. “At least some were honest about it,”

Charles nodded, glancing up at her as he began to wonder wether or not he should consume more alcohol to gain the courage to ask her questions that may be deemed too personal. Threading lightly on the subject, he reached for the Daquiri, giving in to its undeniable seductive calling.

“Is it a common food in the Philippines?” He asked, eyes traveling to the curvature of her expression.

Natalia’s lips disconnected from the cold glass rim, licking away the numbness spreading through her mouth. “Not exactly all over the country, but in my province, we do eat it a lot,” A mirror of nostalgia passes by her eyes, slotting in the depths of her memories.

Charles observed as she spaced out, blankly staring at the wooden coffee table. Instead of snapping her out of her trans, he waited patiently for her to regain her train of thought.

Blinking rapidly, the fog of her brain slowly disappeared, a large intake of breath released from her lungs before she cleared her throat.

As she craned her neck back to the person she was talking to, her heart lurched at her throat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes were drowned in unbelievable intent, as if she’d disappear if he was to look away.

“Let’s play that game again,” He said, softly.

“What?”

“That game in the car. 20 questions,” He clarified, tilting his head at her, “I want to play it again.”

Dread filled her mind, mouth beginning to ache, along with the slight tremble of her voice. “Why?”

“We’re going to spend a lot of time together,” He pointed out. “I’ve know you for quite a while but I don’t know anything about you. . .”

“There’s nothing to know,” She huffed, eyebrows coming together in a pinch. “My life isn’t interesting in the slightest.”

Charles narrowed his eyes at her, careful not to overstep. “I’ll ask basic questions then,”

She scrunched her face up at him. “Like what?”

With his eyes on her, he shrugged. “How did you end up in Monaco?”

“That’s not—” She sighed, pulsing her palms into an alternating clench. Her hands came up to snatch the beer off the table, taking a large gulp of it.

This was not a good idea from the start but then again, she made no complaints about it either.

Setting the bottle down with a loud clank, she tuts at his waiting figure. “I applied for the scholarship grant, almost failed the final interview, found out I didn’t, and— lo and behold, I’m here.”

The vagueness of her answer made Charles roll his eyes. “You almost failed? Why?” He questioned.

Natalia frowned at him, wagging her finger up at his line of vision. “No—no, it’s my turn,”

Charles sighed, defeated, downing a shot of tequila as the former thought of her first question. “Who’s your favorite sibling?”

Taken aback, he smiled at her random choice of words. “I don’t have one,”

His answer was met by a judgmental glance. “Boo! Everybody has one. Come on!”

Hesitation reeled him in with the desire to end thos query immediately. So, with all the shame warped into a giant ball in his heart. Je all but murmured a name.

“Sorry, say that again?” He could practically feel the teasing smirk on her face as she neared her ear on his mouth.

His eyes fluttered close, amusement and annoyance dancing at his veins. “I said, Arthur—”

She laughed, finding his imminent torture to have soothe her pounding heart. “Don’t feel bad, it’s pretty obvious anyway,”

At that, Charles didn’t indulge in her usual provocative style. Instead, thwacking her back with another personal question.

“What do your parents to for a living?”

She coughed, the sharp taste of alcohol pricking at her throat as it violently drew back to her nose.

“Are you okay?” The concern etched visible at the lines of Charles’ face as he stood up to hand her a tissue. He sat next to her, plucking more out of the box as she attempted to stop the liquid pouring out from her nostrils.

She gratefully took the tissue from him, blowing her nose into it. She would’ve found it embarrassing as she heard the disgusting noise it made as she emptied her now stinging nose of the culprit if it weren’t for her spinning mind.

She wiped her jeans, trying to play it cool as she responded. “My parents— My mom was an accountant and my dad— he. . . used to trade oil.”

Charles peaked onto her face, wiping of the remnants of beer on her cheek. “What’s wrong with that?”

Natalia swallowed the painful block of her throat, hand coming up to where he had his on her face. “Nothing. . . I-it’s not their jobs. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask about my parents.”

“We—”

The loud ringing of a phone interrupted their conversation. Natalia felt the vibration in her bag before she realized it was hers.

This dispelled the heavy ambiance of the atmosphere, waking the occupants from their trance.

Oh shit, Natalia thought as she saw the caller’s name flash on her phone.

Nicolas Todt

As soon as she pressed the green button signifying her death, the device was gone, only to be taken by the tutting Monegasque beside her.

She immediate shuffled up, desperately trying to get the phone out of his grip. It was too late, however, as he stood up at the sound of his manager’s voice.

Deflating in defeat, Natalia hopelessly smothered her head on the soft cushion’s of the couch.

“Hello?”

“What are yo— Hello? Charles? Is that you?”

Natalia winced at the pure hostility in Nicolas’ tone. Even after figuring out that the taker of the call was indeed his well-loved client, it didn’t quell the scorching heat of his flaming outrage.

“Oui c'est moi. Quoi de neuf?” Yes, it’s me. What’s up?

In contrast to Charles’ collected attitude, Natalia could feel her insides churning slowly into a blob of mush. Her only wish was for Charles not to ruin this job for her was beggining to whither away with the his careless actions.

“Quoi de neuf?” What’s up? Nicolas echoed, his sharp scoff going through the phone’s speaker and stabbing Natalia directly in the deepest part of her chest.

“Vous n'avez pas vérifié votre téléphone?” He spat, as it were acid poured on his tongue.

At the word phone, Natalia’s head shot up from the condoling compressor of her resting place, panicking as she searched for her phone.

The cumulus fog accumulating her head, clouded the clarity of her thinking, making her forget that someone else had possessed the thing she was looking for.

Charles nodded along to the string of profanities Nicolas kept rambling through his ear, shifting her attention to the frightened girl on his couch. Her heightened vigilance evident as trembling her hands patted wildly along his furniture.

He aided her frantic movements with a soft brush of his hand on her cheek, tapping his thumb on her paled skin.

Natalia whipped her head around to face him, breathing out of sigh of relief as she followed his finger pointing to his phone.

Wasting no time, she snagged it off the table, nearly shoving it on Charles’ face when it demanded a passcode after failing the face recognition system.

Charles careened his head backwards to avoid the object barreling into his face.

Natalia waited, anxiously fiddling with the stitchings of her clothing, as the daunting atmosphere worsened every second that passed by.

She almost tore Charles’ entire arm from his body by the vast amount of force she exerted at him. Quickly tapping on Google app, her hands shook as they hovered over the keys, thoughts failing to conjure words she needed.

“Charles Leclerc girlfriend. . .” A whisper came next to her.

She gritted her teeth at the awful joke. Perhaps as knew it wasn’t an impossible headline. It dawned to her the severity of their offense as she typed his name on the search bar.

It appears that her groan of indignation was loud enough for Nicolas’ ears as Natalia heard his mocked version of it despite being on Charles’ space.

“Did you see it?” Nicolas queried, his tone unreadable.

Natalia turned the screen to Charles’ vision. And the idiot had the audacity to laugh.

Merely hacking into his balled fist, the presence of his teeth behind his lips irritated both Nicolas and Natalia.

In disgustingly big letters, the headline read:

Natalia swiped at the screen, ticking her brow in victory as the smile drained visibly off his face at what she had shown.

“Now, that’s not funny. . .”

You don’t say. . .” She gritted, padding a hand on her chest to feign shock.

Charles offered her an apologetic pat on the head of the sneering girl. The latter slapped his hand away, force firm but not enough to do any harm.

Natalia could hear the faint murmurs of Nicolas before his voice was amplified by Charles’ simple tap of the speaker phone.

“Listen, both of you,” He commended. “Gossip magazines aren’t exactly fond of what ever it is you’re doing.”

“I am so sorry—”

“You are not.” The dripping venom in his tone made Natalia flinch back, leaning away from the source of his voice as if he were to pop out of the screen. “I don’t know what you were both thinking but luckily social media loved your little rendezvous.”

Silence fell between the scolded individuals, eyes creeping up to see the other’s reaction. Like staring directly at a mirror, they alined body language that could only be read as confusion.

“So. . . That means?” Natalia trailed, leveling her vocals in light of steering clear of another possible volcanic eruption from Nicolas.

“It means. . .” Nicolas pressed, annoyance still present. “You have to continue your. . . what you call it?”

Natalia listen intently as Nicolas asked someone for the word he was searching for. “The what? Oh— yes that. . . Your situationship.”

“Ew no!” Natalia’s extreme protest was met with sheer bewilderment on Charles’ part, struggling to process the meaning of the foreign term.

“What is that? What’s a situationship?”

At his question, Natalia stirred back to him, giving him a look of disbelief. Nicolas on the other hand simply clicked his tongue, sighing brfore supplying the answer to his client.

“They’re two people who have no sense of direction regarding their relationship.” He explained, and though he cannot see the expression on Charles’ face, he knew very well what it was.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Natalia’s jaw slackened, palm slapping on his forehead. And although she knew Nicolas’ explanation of situationship was a fairly watered down version of the real deal, she didn’t have the strength to further Charles’ knowledge on the subject.

Nicolas ignored his question. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. I advise you to not step out of that building until daylight.”

Natalia’s eyes widened at that. “What? You want me to stay here?”

“Certainly.” He concluded.

Sensation drained completely from her body. The electric feeling of lacking blood, slowly spread in an infectious manner. With it, the chill of reality came to set in.

“I’ve already informed Toto of the situation.”

As if it wasn’t enough, after hearing that, the lavender scent of the atmosphere that was thought to have the a calming effect seemed impotent, in comparison to the vigorous hold this ghastly chain of anxiety had on her.

Of all the things she feared, the idea of disappointing Toto Wolff and Susie Wolff was an absolute nightmare. How could she face the people who gave her the opportunity of a life time if she were to do dim-witted things like this?

In the midst of her internal battle, her head stirred to the cause of her misbehavior. He just so happened to be looking at her as well.

Unlike the pointed glare she blatantly jabbed into his face, Charles offered her a worried glance that could bloom flowers on his pretty little head.

Despite her scornful demeanor, she couldn’t shake away the guilt of being in this position. She was aware that it wasn’t Charles’ fault alone but perhaps putting all the blame in him would ease her desire to simply jump on a boat and abandon everything she ever dreamed in her life.

Natalia recoiled at the sudden warmth on her arm. Look towards the source, she relaxed at the sight of Charles’ hand on her skin.

He had ended the call, sitting back down on his previous place. “How do you want to do this?”

Natalia heaved a heavy sigh, afraid that the force might collapse her lungs. “I honestly can’t think of anything else but being fired. . .”

Charles took her hand in a grip that he could only hope held the comfort he was trying to induce. “You won’t. I’m the reason you’re here. I’ll talk to them.”

“You better. . .” She huffed, shoving a strong palm at his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look my classmates in the eye when I have to go back to University, though.”

“When do you have to go back?” He asked.

“In three days. We have to submit a report every two weeks regarding our performance.” She expounded, thinking about the sour look on her headmaster’s face at the sight of his achingly popular student walking in her office.

“Well, in that case, you can say that you helped me increase my fanbase by 2% in just three weeks.” Charles tried to provide a consolation.

Natalia hummed, lips curling as she was reminded of that information. “You make it sound like I’m a one-man team. . .” She shook her head.

She was sure that Charles’ PR team wouldn’t appreciate her taking all the credit for the improvements in the Ferrari driver’s personal accounts.

“Probably not. But most of it was your idea.”

It was intended to aid the boisterous voices crowding the little space left in her brain that wasn’t consumed by the nauseating noise of failure but alas proved to be ineffective as she abruptly stood up and took her phone from Charles’ lap.

Tapping the number she knew would cover the gaping hole of fear continuously scraping at her brain.

She watched as her phone started ringing, the name of her partner in crime flashing on the screen.

Lissie

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #charlos #ferrari #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x y/n #landoscar #charles leclerc smut

[finniestoncrane]

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k giveaway commission: thank you sweet and precious @creepling for my first foray into a sex pollen style fic, and the perfect subject for it! waller has synthesised a replica of some brainiac serum that encourages procreation, and since george literally will take any excuse for a good root, he and reader are the test subjects 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sex pollen-esque, dubcon elements, overstimulation, breeding kink, exhibitionism

"Send her in."

"Ms Waller, have you really considered the ethical implications of-"

"Do you want to go in there?"

"N-no."

"Well then, send. Her. In."

Only three days since Hack had discovered documentation of a serum in Brainiac's logs that encouraged repetitive breeding amongst subjects, with successful procreation leading to the optimal genetic conditions being chosen from both parents for the offspring. And in that three days, Waller had gained permission from the government for ARGUS to implement a test of the synthesised serum.

They had so many more fights ahead of them, and she didn't consider herself to be working with the best team. However, she could at least admit that amidst all the negative traits, there were some positives. But the risk was still there, so she wasn't about to select the top for the experiment.

Which is why she had settled on George Harkness. If anything went wrong, she wouldn't feel bad losing him. And for his partner, a random inmate. No discernible talents, so to speak, at least not in a way that would be effective against meta humans or alien hoards. But someone who was of sound-ish mind and could offer a sense of stability to whatever George was offering.

That's where you came in.

All they had to do was mentioned a reduced sentence and you had agreed. Truthfully, when they had been explaining it to you in the medical checks, you had only focused on the concept of finally, after months of no physical contact, having sex, at last.

Something that your partner was equally excited about.

In the room beyond the door where you were being kept, George was standing against the wall, rutting into it, his stiff cock bashed against the surface in a bid to find any kind of friction. He'd been given the serum five minutes before, and the effects were almost instantaneous.

The serum had been injected into you moments before they led you down the corridor, so you were slightly behind him in terms of your side effects. That meant you were vaguely shocked when you were shoved into the room, the door locked behind you, and you found George humping the air as he turned to you.

"Hello, Sheila! What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this then?"

His grin was wide, pushing into his cheeks, the creases in his face deep as he winked and narrowed his eyes. Usually, that kind of blatant, and poor, attempt at flirting would have put you off, but the serum had begun to work through you. That, and you had to admit that you definitely found him attractive.

George lifted his shirt off as he walked towards you, flexing his muscles and tensing them, showing off like a peacock. It was effective, as you felt your own stomach tighten, warmth spreading through your core as you took in the sight of him, fit, sturdy, oddly charming.

"Hot in here, ain't it, babe?"

As he took off his signature beanie, tossing it to the floor, he shook his hair out, the sweat that had begun to bead on his forehead falling onto the floor with the movement. Meeting him in the middle of the floor, you pressed your hands to his torso. A move that was far more forward than one you were likely to make under normal circumstances, but you were practically growling, desperate to feel his body, aching for him to be as close to you as possible. Your cunt clenched, longing for something to fill it, and George was right there, willing and eager.

"Fuck me."

"You not gonna ask me out to dinner first, babe?"

"I don't know how much time we have before the serum wears off... do you really want to risk it?"

He smiled wide, licking at his lips and waggling his tongue at you before putting it back in his mouth.

"Yeah, fair point well made, love. You know me, any excuse."

With complete abandon to any of your senses or social norms, you let your pants fall to the ground, stepping out of them and falling to the floor. Maneuvering yourself onto your hands and knees, you reached behind to spread yourself open for him.

"Where do you want it then, babe?"

You looked to him with a questioning gaze. From her position behind the two-way glass, Amanda rolled her eyes, unable to comprehend his stupidity.

"Oh right! The... the thing..."

Quickly, and with very little care for any foreplay, George ran a finger down your slit, spreading your slit over your cunt before he pushed his cock deep within your walls, beginning to fuck you at an energetic and frantic pace.

"Fuck me, babe... they'll have to get a team of men to pull me out of you."

"They're... not gonna... hng... pull you out, George... that's the point..."

His eyes widened as he realised, rutting into you more frantically at the excitement of cumming inside of you, painting your insides, his seed there for a purpose.

"Oh, yeah! Well, I've already made one... might as well give it another go!"

As he neared his orgasm, his words became cruder, alluding to the act in a way that was so lewd you could feel yourself getting wetter and warmer with each statement.

"... fill you up... get it right up there in you... no chance you're leaving here empty... tied to me always, eh?"

With what you could only describe as a howl, you felt his body tense and shudder, one last final, deep thrust into you as you were filled with his warm, thick seed.

He kept rutting, a sticky mess against his abdomen and your rear, coating his dick, your slick and his cum combined as he kept pushing himself forward. His cock was softening, but he refused to move from you, and only when you collapsed onto your stomach was his length released.

George's cum was still spilling out of you, so much of it even after he had spent an extra minute pumping it deep inside of you, ensuring that you would definitely be in receipt of his significant contributions towards Waller's future line of controllable, successful squad members.

And as you felt yourself finding the energy to ask for a second round, you turned to find George still rutting, his hips jerking into the air, clearly ready to go again, too.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomer x you #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes