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we-are-maladaptive · 1 year

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Breeding ‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧ Stock

Shouto Todoroki x Cowgirl!Reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Feel free to send me an ask and I’ll write it for you! Remeber to check the rules first.

CONTENTS: smut, breeding (duh), pussy pounding (teehee), hybrids, talks of past abuse, lactation kink, shouto is like in his late 20, early 30s, loss of virginity, master/pet dynamics, oral (f reciev.) Word Count: 2.7k (Proofread! :D)

It seems like people like you are not so lucky as humans. Humans get to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and it’s not fair. Being strapped in a cage all day long.. waiting for someone to take you home n’ milk you dry, maybe breed you.

Breed... you hated that word. You just wanted a life where you could be free, and not have to worry about being someone’s pet. Unfortunately for you, you were one of the best stocks in the farm. The freshest of milk, and the prettiest of faces. This meant that you were being dragged for display almost every time a rich, old buyer came around, flaunting your pretty tits and perky nipples through the thin fabric of your white dress. Praying that the price tag clipped to your ear will be enough to drive them away... sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the buyers will get a little too close, so when they get a bite on the finger or arm and they scurry away, a few lashes at your behind is better than staying with those creeps.

One day, though, another rich man comes inside... he’s a handsome man, and looks way more decent then the crooks that usually come in the store. You hear one of the clerks scurry in his direction-

..”Oh my! Hello good sir! What are you in for today?”

“I’m here to purchase a cow.”

“Oh! I see. Is there any type you are interested in?”

“...Your best cow.”

A pair of heavy footsteps were walking to your cage, but you didn’t pay any mind to it, too engrossed in your own thoughts. You were always so shaky during a time like this, what if the price, or a bite on the arm, isn’t enough to drive them away? You can’t stay here forever...

“I’ll take her.”

Your head perked up immediately.

“O-oh! Are you sure you want to buy her? You haven’t even touched her ye-”

“I said I’ll take her. Do I need to repeat myself again?”

“Of course not sure! The price is 300,000 yen. She’s of high value.”

You looked the man in the eyes, his gaze softened when he met your eyes, maybe because they were currently filled with fear.

His eyes met the clerk again.

“...Seems fair. Lead me to the paperwork. If there's anything else I need to know, do tell me.”

...

You were terrified.

This man was large, and could easily overpower you. You stood no chance against him, so you stayed quiet and timid in the back of his car.

“Where...where going?” Dumb thing. Could barely manage to understand a few words.

“..We are heading home. You won’t be familiar, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Home? You have never had a home before, always stuck in the cage. He said it so gently too, maybe it’s worthless to be so panicky.. he seems sincere.

“Moo..”

...

When he pulled into the driveway, you expected to be dragged into the house, but he held you so softly. So gentle then you felt almost compelled to follow him, and that's what you did.

“Hungry..”

“You’re hungry, hm? What do you usually eat?”

“..Moo?”

He sighed. He wasn’t going to get very far when it came to communication. It seemed as though you could only understand basic words. The man fed you plenty of fresh strawberries, and kiwi. Much to your delight, since all you ate back at the farm was slop filled with hormone inducing protein.

“Who?” Is what you asked him. If you were going to stay here, you at least needed a name. “Shouto, is my name.”

“Sho...shoto..?”

“Yes, you got it.”

Shouto. That was his name. It’s not very hard to pronounce either.

It started to get late, and you had a hobby of following him wherever he went. He could tell by the clank of the cowbell he placed around your neck.

“Sleep?” He assumed you were tired after the trip. You followed him around to this somewhat pile of pillows and a blanket. It was soft, but still sturdy, since it was placed on the floor.

...

The next morning was filled with ache. You felt so heavy. Practically dragging across the floor into his room where he slept. You stared up at him and whined until he started to stir.

“Mmm..what is it?”

“Hurts.” It did hurt, the ache in your hard breasts was hard to ignore at this point. Milk threatening to spill all over and make a mess on the floor if you moved the wrong way.

“Right. I know, come here...”

He pulled down the top of your dress, and your breasts spilled over. He gently grabbed one, and sucked.

It was such a strange feeling.. it was reliving, but your nipples were so sensitive, you couldn't help but whine whenever he sucked so hard. The rich, warm milk flowed into his mouth, and when he began to coax you into his bed, you flinched a little.

“No... no breed.”

“No?” He was rather confused. One the papers and documentaries he read prior, it seemed that almost all cows loved to be bred and filled to the brim. It seemed you were the exception though. It was understandable though, and he wasn’t going to make you do anything you weren’t uncomfortable with, yet.

“Alright. Are you feeling better?”

You nodded. You were still sleepy though, since it was still early in the morning. You snuggled up against him, much to his surprise. Seems like you like his mattress more than the floor.

“Nuh-uh. You need a bath before you can get in my bed, missy.”

“Huff.”

...

It was around 9AM now. This bath was a lot more soothing then you thought it would be. While you were marveling at the bubbles in the bath, Shouto sat at the edge, but he was internally struggling a bit...

Your body looked amazing.

The way droplets of water ran from your hair into the crevice of your breasts. When you lifted yourself up a bit to get out of the water, he could see the fat of your ass, and even a little peek at your cunt too <3.

Shouto wasn't aware of what you were doing right now, probably wandering around the house, but he wasn't worried about that recently. Right now, he wanted to figure out how to make you more.. comfortable. You had pushed away his advance to fuck you earlier, and he was currently fighting the urge to find you bend you over, but that's not very comforting. He understood that you had just gotten here, and it was a very sudden change.

After a while, he decided that the best course of action was patience, and to let you feel a little more at home via gifts or just exploration. He had gotten you a pretty decorated bell that went around your neck, and would let you snuggle with him on his bed as long as you showered or didn't run around in the grass looking for butterflies in his garden. His bed was very soft, and you cried and whined at him whenever it was time to get up.

After a week of being there, you felt a lot more at home. You were able to get down the basic layout of the house now, so you no longer got lost. It was a very large house, and so you would wail for Shouto, so he could come find wherever you were.

It was late into the evening now. You once again lay in Shouto's large garden tub, Shouto was also in the tub behind you, gently scrubbing away the mud on your shoulders, you were extra dirty after planting face-first into the ground. You tripped over yourself after trying to snatch a pretty monarch butterfly. Shouto helped you with wiping the dirt off your face when he found you, but still got himself dirty in the process thanks to you swinging your muddy tail around.

...Once you were finally clean in the tub, that's when Shouto decided to advance. He pressed you back onto his chest, and placed his hand on the lower part of your stomach. You tilted your head to look at him, curious to see what he was doing. You shuddered slightly when he pressed his lips on your neck, right above your collarbone. You tensed when he started to suckle on your neck, so he used his other hand to caress your thigh, and lifted it upward to hand over the edge of the tub, he did the same with the other leg. Your legs were now draped over the tub, giving him access to your more intimate area. He stopped sucking on your neck and again placed his hand on your lower stomach, sliding down very slowly. He whispered in your ear when you started to whimper; "Shhh, I promise I'll take good care of you. Just relax for me.'' You started to melt in his hands, he's taken good care of you ever since you got here, so you should be able to trust him. You were just scared. Scared because of the things you witnessed back at that old barn. Looking at Shouto's different colored eyes makes everything numb, so you nodded at him. He softly smiled at you, and slid his hand on top of your cunt. You stiffened slightly, so he didn’t toy with you just yet, he wanted you to get comfortable first. When Shouto felt you slightly relax into his arms, he smiled at your soft whimper, because now he had placed a calloused finger onto your swollen clit, rubbing in slow circles.

“How’s that feeling, baby?” He was taunting you now, his fingers slowly picking up the pace, stilling you with his other hand when you started grinding your hips into his fingers. “Ah….ah..” You were really trying, you were. Nothing was coming out of your mouth coherent enough for him to understand, but it was enough to make him chuckle at your attempts, a simple puff of air from his nose.

The fingers on your clit were relentless now, the circles had gotten faster, and it was hard not to buck away from his touches. Something in your core was aching to be let out, but you had no idea what it was. Your whimpers turned to soft moans, and soft moans turned into a mixture of inaudible pleas, hiccuped sobs, and loud whines. You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Shouto did. You were on the edge, you slammed your eyes shut in preparation for what was about to happen, but it never came. A disappointed noise came from your lips, and Shouto let out a light laugh at your pouty face. “Don’t worry my dear, I’ll take care of you soon enough.” He pressed a kiss to your ear and whispered something that made you shudder;

“I want you to cum on my cock, love.” With that, he lifted you from the tub, earning him a squeak from you. Using the heat of his body to dry you both at an unfathomable speed, and when he deemed you “dry” enough, he hoisted you over his shoulder and dropped you on the edge of the bed in a playful manner. He gave you no room to complain or whine at him, and instead dragged your rear towards his face as he kneeled down on the floor. Your mouth was opened to protest, but before you could manage to get a word in, your thoughts changed immediately as his mouth started to suckle on your clit. Instead, you let out a loud moan at his ministrations.

He hummed in content at your cries, and the vibrations furthered your pleasure. After a minute, he slid his index finger into your walls, curling upwards in hopes to find that soft spot, and he did. You threw your head backwards, and let out a cry of pleasure. When he deemed you wet enough, he placed another finger in. Curling up into that soft spot in your cunt, and he picked up a nice rhythm too. He curled his fingers particularly hard, which made you slam your hand over your mouth, much to his displeasure. He stood up from his position and pulled you upwards into the pillows of the bed, your legs now bent over his shoulders. He tilted your chin upwards when you tried to look down to see what was about to go inside you, however he wouldn’t let you. If you did see it, you’d probably freak out by how large it was, so it was best to avoid that.

“You’re still so shaky, sweetie. I promise I’ll be very gentle with you, yeah? I don’t want to break you after all.” He smiled down at you when you nodded at him, your teeth biting at your plush lips and eyes slamming shut as you felt the rather large tip of his length prodding at your entrance. “Shh.. hey, you're okay. Look at me. I want to see the look in your eyes as I’m deep inside you, love.” As your eyes slowly opened you decided to grip at the sheets instead, if you bit your lip too hard it would bleed. He buried his face into your neck, as he couldn’t contain his groans and grunts either, opting to release them into your neck, his breath on your collarbone sending shivers down your spine, you could feel him gripping the sheets, and you could feel his cock prodding deeper into your sopping pussy. It hurt, it really did, but it was hard to focus on the pain when he held you so softly.

You had never felt any type of affection in your life, back at that barn. This pain was nothing compared to the lashes you used to receive back there whenever you made any type of mistake. His love was foreign to you, his touches, his affection. It was not what you expected when you first came here. You had thought he was like the others, he’d take, take and take some more until there was nothing left of you. To your surprise however he was giving you something. Giving you food, love, affection, something you’d never thought you would receive. This pain was nothing, nothing at all.

You weren’t really given any room to think when the pain did subside.

Pleasure. Pleasure in its rawest, most carnal form. It was something you never felt up until now. It was like electricity, flowing up and down every vein in your body, it was the only thing you could focus on, if you tried to focus on anything else you might break into pieces. Shouto was saying something, but it was drowned out by your cries. Everything seemed like a blur, the noises of your skin slapping together, your moaning, his grunts, all of it was hazy, other than the overwhelming sensation in between your legs.

Panic crawled its way up your spine when that sensation got a little too intense to handle, that feeling from earlier, something wanting to snap inside. Your breathing got sporadic and irregular, and Shouto noticed and hushed you.

“Hey.. it’s okay. Let go for me, yeah? I got you, you’re safe.”

You tried to plead with him, with the little English you were taught, but he wasn’t having it. He knew what was best for you, afterall.

You tried too hard to hold it in, but when he placed his fingers on your clit again, you knew you couldn’t contain it any longer.

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, head thrown back, your hair a mess, and nails raking at his back. .. and then everything went quiet for a while.

Your eyes felt heavy when you woke up. You weren’t out for long, it was still early into the night, the moon still shone in the same place as when you and Shouto were- oh.“Hi, sleepyhead.” You jumped slightly as the voice beside you, groggy and yet still full of love. Shouto’s hair is a mess, just like yours. Instead of speaking, you instead decided to nuzzle your face into his neck, and he replied with a hum. He kissed your forehead and stroked your back, it couldn’t be any better than this. All those years of isolation and abandonment, you have finally found something good, someone good in your life. You couldn’t bear to see him leave you.

Shouto was about half asleep when his ears perked up to the sound of someone sniveling, it was you. You were crying, in his arms. He pulled your face out, as it was still buried in his neck, and examined your watery eyes and red puffy cheeks with a frown on his face.

“Please… don’t leave me.”

He smiled softly at you, kissing your tears away. “I won’t ever leave you, I promise.”

With that, you both fell asleep. Even though you were a cow, you were still a girl. You had at least half the mind to think of girly things, which included dreaming of what you and Shouto’s kids would look like, and what you would name them.

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hxney-lemcn · 1 year

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Melting — Connor x gn! reader

summery: Reader and Connor are two lovesick fools who bond over being touch starved.

tw: descriptions of anxiety

a/n: Should I make another part? Or like a series of one shots with these two? I'm tempted if anyone is interested.

wc: 1.8k

Master List

“You comin old man?” I teased Hank as I stood beside his desk, Connor sitting across from him. I was going on break and I thought we’d all head out for lunch together like we normally did.

“Nah, not today,” Hank waved me off. “Got more work than I know what to do with.” I frowned, glancing at Connor and assuming that meant he wouldn’t be able to join either.

Having resigned myself to eating alone, I tapped Hank’s desk in acknowledgement, “Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” I smiled at the two and Connor seemed a bit conflicted, eyes darting between Hank and I. Deciding to ignore the odd mannerism, I went to turn away.

“Connor, why don’t you go with them,” Hank offered. “I’ll hold down the fort, but don’t forget to get me something.”

“Are you-” Connor was going to ask, eyebrows furrowed, but was quickly cut off.

“Yes!” Hank exclaimed. “Go before I change my mind.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor thanked, a warm smile blessing his face. Whoever made him so handsome needed a raise. Well, Cyberlife is now controlled by androids but y’know what I mean. Connor’s warm gaze fell onto me and I swear my heart skipped a beat. I averted my eyes, his stare too intense for my poor heart.

“C’mon,” I motioned him to follow me. He was out of his chair in less than a second, walking next to me and matching my pace.

My nerves felt alight, not normally alone with the android. I tried to calm down my racing mind, scolding myself for not only thinking of my friend, but my coworker as such. I fiddled with the ring I wore, scolding myself for my inappropriate thoughts. But was it really so wrong to want to hold his hand?

“Are you alright?” Connor asked, and I turned to face him, not realizing that he had just scanned me. “You are showing signs of anxiety.” His furrowed brow and concerned look never failed to make me melt.

Having a topic to speak on, I felt myself calm slightly and nudged Connor lightly with my elbow, smiling lightly, “You know I’m an anxious person. But I’m good.”

His frown worsened, the hair that always fell out of place falling just a tad bit farther with the tilt of his head, “Is there anything I can do to help prevent it from happening?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so used to it that I don’t even notice it much. That’s unless it gets really bad, but I’ve been getting better.” Connor pursed his lips, his concerned gaze swirled with frustration. “I mean being with people I know helps comfort me. And when it gets really bad, it helps if I can…kinda cling to them?” I finished in more of a questioning tone, hating the vulnerability it made me feel to admit that. I stared at the concrete as we continued to walk to the nearest fast food restaurant.

“You can hold my hand if that would make you feel more comfortable,” Connor offered, and when I looked at him in shock, he had his hand extended out to me. My heart pounded faster. Immediately my mind started to romanticize the situation and I couldn’t stop it, even though I knew this had to be strictly platonic. There’s no way it wasn’t…

The kind smile he had turned to a frown, “Your anxiety is increasing…”

“Sorry,” I apologized for no reason really, I suppose for making him think I hate him? I suppose my anxiety really is increasing. “I’m just…I…I don’t mind, I haven’t really held hands with someone in a long time, or hugged, or…I’m rambling, sorry.”

His frown turned into an awkward smile, “You don’t have to apologize. I haven’t held anyone's hand before, so this is a new experience for me as well.”

Squeezing my hands, I rubbed my right hand on my pants before reaching my hand out. Connor met my hand halfway and I hoped he ignored the sweat gathering on my palms once more. His hand was surprisingly warm, although I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, not to mention soft. Finally reaching the restaurant, Connor opened the door for me and I thanked him.

He followed me as I went straight to the self-serve kiosk. It was busier than I was used to, and I didn’t even realize that I moved closer to the brown haired man that was also very handsome and very much holding my hand. We both ordered, and waited in line for our numbers to be called. I glanced over to Connor, only to find him already staring at me.

“Are you scanning me again?” I joked lightly.

“Even though we are in a crowded place, which seems to usually trigger your anxiety, your stress levels are surprisingly low,” Connor stated, confusion laced in his warm gaze.

“I’ve got you with me,” I replied without even thinking of the implications. Instead I just grinned at him, unaware of how he was becoming increasingly flustered. I glanced at the screen that showed off the order numbers, and noticed ours both were getting closer.

“Excuse me,” Someone grunted, pushing past me. Which in turn caused me to press closer to Connor.

Connor ran a diagnostic scan, wondering why he felt like his internal fans were going to explode. It came up all good, which led him to thinking about what Hank brought up earlier.

“You haven’t noticed them touching you more lately?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow.

Connor had noticed it, quite a bit actually. The small touches to his arm, the nudges, or even when they tried to rest their arm on his shoulder jokingly. He always looked at that last example fondly, especially when he was 6’ compared to their shorter height.

“All their affection reads as platonic, does it not?” Connor asked, curious as ever.

“You don’t see them hiding their laughter into my shoulder, do you?” Hank asked rhetorically.

“No,” Connor replied anyway, led blinking yellow in thought. “So you’re saying they may have a romantic interest in me?”

Hank shrugged, clearly losing interest in the subject the more questions Connor asked obliviously, “I don’t know kid, why don’t you ask them yourself?”

Connor blinked back into reality as I called his name, his thirium pump seeming to beat faster as his name tumbled from my lips.

“Your number was called,” I said as I finally seemed to grab his attention, pushing him towards the counter.

“R-right,” Connor stuttered lightly, embarrassed he was caught in such a daze.

“Let’s get out of here,” I grumbled as we both got the food we ordered.

“Of course,” Connor nodded, guiding me out of the crowded restaurant. Arm protectively wrapped around my shoulder. I didn’t mind being pressed into his side once more. My hand clung to his jacket as we continued to squeeze past people. Once we finally got outside, I let out a relieved breath, glad to be out of that packed room.

“Would you like to eat outside?” Connor asked. It was a nice day, the warm sun beating down on the cool spring air. People bustled about, enjoying the nice turn of the weather.

“I don’t want Hank’s food to get cold,” I frowned, drawing away slightly from Connor’s side as his arm dropped to his side once more.

“I’m sure he would understand,” He replied.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Is this the same Hank we’re talking about?”

Connor joined in on my laughter, “How about we drop it off first, to be safe.” I agreed, the walk back to the precinct much lighter than the earlier tension. Was it tension or just my anxiety? Who knows.

I took in a deep breath as a small breeze blew past. I ate a fry, watching the flowers dance in the wind to a song only they could hear. The sounds of birds chirping, people talking, and Connor flipping a coin filled the air.

“Is the food to your liking?” Connor asked, breaking the silence.

I looked over to him, the coin firmly held between two fingers, and shrugged, “It’s alright. What you’d expect from fast food.”

I loved watching Connor do his little coin tricks, it became a habit to soothe his nerves. It was interesting watching him gain his own habits, becoming his own person. I remember asking why he knew how to do coin tricks, only for him to explain it was to help him calibrate his software.

As I finished my lunch, I watched as the coin rolled over the back of his fingers. Flicking it to his other hand, only to roll it between his fingers. His movement was so smooth, fluid. I can only imagine the million ways I’d fumble and lose the quarter.

“Do you want to try?” Connor asked, offering the coin to me. I broke out of my spaced out state and stared at him like an idiot.

“If I tried I’d find a way to accidentally fling it into the ocean,” I joked with a bright smile.

“The probability of you…oh, that was a joke,” Connor fumbled, and I noticed that his cheeks turned a light blue. Oh my god I didn’t know androids could blush! That’s actually really cool, and I wonder how that even works.

I laughed lightly at his fumble, “It’s okay, Connor. Besides, I leave the coin tricks for the professionals.” I winked, and then immediately panicked. Why the hell did I wink? God I must’ve looked so lame, but…why was his blue blush more prominent? And why is it so pretty?

Blue was a good color on him. I thought that when he wore his old outfit that cyberlife fitted him with, and I still think it now. I glanced at my watch, noticing our break was almost over. I let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto his side, causing him to hold his arm out in confusion before placing it around me gently.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I was so comfortable with him that I didn’t even realize how this may be uncomfortable for him. It was so weird, because one minute I’d be overthinking our interactions, and then the next I wouldn’t be thinking at all.

Before I could get up or continue to overthink, Connor spoke hurriedly, “It’s alright, you can lean on me if you’d like.”

“We should probably get back to work,” I grumbled, leaning my head back on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the warmth that spread through my body at his warm touch. It was such a nice feeling, I was scared to grow used to it because I wasn’t sure if it’d always be available to me.

“We have a few more minutes,” Connor murmured back, hearing his voice so close to my ear, slightly startling me.

Calming a bit from the slight scare, I let out a soft hum, closing my eyes. Such a peaceful moment. If only it could last forever.

#connor dbh x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh x reader #rk800 x reader #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #connor dbh #x reader

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miffysrambles · 7 months

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Protective! Macaque with S/O OneShot

(Warning (?) : This one gets kind of intense with the themes of being harassed, I didn't know if that needed a warning but just to be safe!)

You were backed into a corner of an empty alleyway as you were pleading with the creepy stranger to leave you alone already.

“I-I said please leave me alone, I’m not interested!” You frowned up at him as he pressed one of his palms against the brick wall from your response of trying to walk away from him.

You were beyond uncomfortable at this point, he had followed you to isolate you for gods sake!

You were only on your way to the small theater to see your boyfriend after work, apparently the stranger saw you walking on the sidewalk and decided he wanted to pursue you.

“Aww come on sweetheart, I could treat you better than anyone ever could.” He winked down at you, making your stomach and heart feel like it’s been punched.

You realized this guy wasn’t going to take no or stop for an answer, deciding your best option was to make a run for it so you weren’t isolated and around other people for help.

The creep saw you shift to the side, knowing what you were going to do next as he grabbed you by the wrist as you ducked underneath his arm.

You cried out as his grip tightened around your waist, “Where you going sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet.”

You squirmed in his grasp as you struggled to get him to let you go, your fingers trying to make his grip loosen.

This only made his fingers grip tighter, making you seethe in the squeezing pain.

“Heh, you’re cute when you struggle like…”

His words trailed off as his eyes locked above you instead of into yours, a low growl emitting from above your head.

“Get you hand off of them before I rip it off your arm…”

Oh dear Gods.

The creep quickly released your wrist, making you rub the red finger marks around your limb as it already started to bruise.

Your boyfriend Macaque had appeared in your shadow, poking his head out from a portal above you as he used another to rise from the ground to appear in front of you to defend you.

He looked behind him to see he had left bruises on your wrist as you seethed in pain.

Macaque saw red as he felt raw anger pulse through his form.

He hurt you.

HE HURT YOU.

In a flash, Macaque grabbed the creep by the shirt collar and pinned him to the wall on the opposite side of you.

“On second thought, I should rip you apart limb from limb for even laying one of your disgusting fingers on them.”

The creep’s smug composure was long gone, now replaced with shivering fear as he pleaded with Macaque to leave him alone.

The simian gritted his fangs as he raised his fist to land a blow to his face, wanting to make sure he wiped that horrid smug expression off of him for the rest of his days.

He was stopped as your soft voice called out to him, snapping him out of his enraged state as he looked back at you.

“I… I just want to go home.”

Macque looked back at the creep as he growled once more, “You got lucky pal, if I ever see you even dare to look at my partner I’ll rip your eyes out myself.”

Your boyfriend let go of the creep’s collar as he scurried off, you wouldn’t need to worry about him coming back because if you were in his shoes you wouldn’t.

Macaque never went back on his words when it came to you.

He ran over to you as he gently took your bruised wrist into his palm, pressing a loving kiss against the mark.

“That son of a bitch was lucky you stopped me, I’ll tell you that much.” He muttered against your skin.

You smiled as he scooped you up into his arms as he summoned another portal to take you home, landing on your couch as he pressed his lips against your own.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, is that ok starshine?” His low voice asked, making you smile once more as you nodded.

“Of course hon, I’d actually really like that.”

He sighed in relief as he laid back on the arm of the couch, pulling you close to his chest as he kissed your forehead and held you like someone was trying to take you away from him.

Macaque wanted nothing more than to keep you close to him as much as possible tonight, seeing someone make you so scared and uncomfortable ignited the protective urge in him.

No one was every gonna mess with his sugarplum ever again, he was gonna make sure of that.

#ask #cw: intense themes #cw: harassment #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid macaque #lmk macaque x reader #lego monkie kid macaque x reader #macaque x reader

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gerardpilled · 11 months

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I want to say thanks for acknowledging and being critical of racism done by MCR band members and racism in the scene in general. I just recently got into MCR a year ago on a deeper scale and I have found many things off putting and kind of yikes. It's nice seeing someone who is critical of what the band members have done in the past and not excusing them and addressing that it was an issue as a whole. I used to be very hateful towards Lindsey but now I realize that it would be hypocritical (I still do not like MSI just due to it not being my taste in music and I don't care for that shock value type lyrics). I was wondering if you know any resources that talk more about racism in the scene? It's something I'd like to know more about

Oh it’s no problem! Thank you for thanking me, but I don’t see myself as doing anything special. I was raised in an environment where I was fortunate enough to be around people and friends who have made me aware of implicit racism -from my self and others- since an early age. Hearing “well, that’s cause you’re white” is a playful joke but it also made me aware of stuff! Just from what I’ve seen in recent years, the shortcomings of white people who are the focus of fandom are often ignored. There’s nothing wrong with pointing out a racist thing your fave said or did because it doesn’t necessarily make them A Racist™️ (sometimes it can). It also helps people recognize the issues before they get worse. POC aren’t a monolith - there are plenty of things disagreed on amongst any community - but there are definitely over arching sentiments.

Anyway, I’m basically just reiterating a bunch of talking points made by poc on here. As for further reading, I feel like the best sources for me have been mutuals’ posts. First hand stories. Being receptive when people share how certain things make them feel. Racism in this particular scene is also sort of a new and emerging topic as the people who lived through the heart of it are just now reaching authorship age. I look forward to seeing what comes out in the next few years.

What I have right now:

My Chemical Relaxer - a short autobiographical story about growing up Black and emo

News story about how the current state of hardcore is looking much more diverse

Sing It Zine - zine made by fanartists a few years ago!! It’s great, I bought a digital copy myself. It’s filled with art and short essays about how it felt to grow up in a scene that often ignored non white people. Also a bunch of tumblr users participated, so it offers a great follow list if you’re interested.

If anyone else has any suggestions, add them in a reblog, or send them and I’ll do it!

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isalisewrites · 4 days

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A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part Two

Welcome to my ballsy series where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say ‘poor writer,’ I’m talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the overall plot of the books.

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Part One Link.

Disclaimer for all readers of this series:

I’m going to sound very confident in my posts where I work under the assumption I’m a better writer than JKR; because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You’re simply witnessing the culmination of over two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn’t just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

I’m not a perfect writer. No one is. I’m not a talented writer either. I’m experienced and skilled through years of study and practice.

I don’t care about J.K. Rowling. At all.

If you’re triggered by the concept and fact that JKR is a terrible crafter of writing, then you might want to take a step back and self reflect on that personal issue.

I still very much love and adore Harry Potter; you’re still allowed to love Harry Potter.

This is not a series to bitch or bash. This isn’t a shitpost. This isn’t an attack on JKR, no matter the disgusting bullshit she spews forth on Twitter. However, my hope is people awaken to the fact that JKR isn’t the goddess of writing we’ve all been led to believe.

This is a place of study and learning, where the purpose is to help students gain critical thinking skills and writing analysis tools to become better in their craft.

And, sorry, one more disclaimer for this specific post:

Fanfiction is written for fun and is posted for free. I put most of my effort into my main fanfic, Terrible, But Great. (Yes, I intend to update Moon Rite soon, too) However, I also have two fanfics that are cowritten with another author; thus, the style of Shall I Stay and Badger Prey are understandably different. I spend three to four times the hours to edit a chapter versus drafting it. My process for fanfiction: I draft. I do one expansion edit. I do one proofread edit. I post.

However, if I were to publish a novel where people are expected to drop money on said book, my work flow would be vastly more extensive. To be clear, I’d do all of the following myself. I would not outsource. My process for published novels: I would draft. I would do three to four expansion edits. I would do two to three cutting edits. I would do three proofread edits.

See the difference?

Because I don’t go through a cutting edit for my fanfiction, I’ll often come back later and see things I think are weak. I’m constantly seeing where I can tighten my work. There’s always room for improvement.

Remember: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is a paperback book that costs $10. My fanfics are free. If I, someone who writes for free and puts what she considers the bare minimum of effort into them, have a higher standard in the quality of my writing than a paid traditionally published novelist, there’s a problem here.

All right, with that nonsense out of the way, buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Let’s begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we’re going to discuss these five pages from HP5 and dissect one paragraph and a line from page 731. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

(My favorite book in the series, btw. I fucking love fifth year the most. JKR did a damn good job with Umbridge.)

Since a certain anon lacked the skill to comprehend the difference between too much dialogue and stories driven by a high saturation of dialogue, let's go into further depth about dialogue.

What did I mean last week when I said: "Too much fucking dialogue!"

Today’s lesson will focus on the overall issue in JKR’s dialogue and in the prose surrounding those dialogue lines.

And since, apparently, I “lack the self awareness” to know most of my fics are “oversaturated with dialogue,” I’m going to use weaker examples of my own writing. Chapter 24 of TBG is heavily driven by dialogue with twenty-one named characters to juggle, something that's very difficult for me to manage. Though the chapter is lovely, I do feel it's some of my weaker work. In the end, I just didn’t have the energy to edit it a second time nor go through cutting edit.

Here are three different pages (some connected, some not) from Chapter 24 of Terrible, But Great. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

You can already see the difference, I'm sure.

So, what’s the difference between a scene that has 'too much fucking dialogue' versus a scene that is highly saturated with dialogue?

Because there is one.

Let's set the scene for HP5. In the middle of an OWL exam, Harry received a vision from Voldemort, showing him that Sirius has been captured. He's being tortured to get something from a shelf, but Sirius refuses. Harry believes the vision is real. He tells Ron and Hermione, then asks for their advice on how to rescue Sirius. Ron and Hermione are both like, pardon, wtf, sir? (As they should be.)

We have five pages of this fight between them. These five pages are mostly dialogue with very little else surrounding it.

Also, note the final page where it has the worst sins of adverb usage. That page is what triggered me to begin writing this series in the first place, btw.

There's too much dialogue here. There's no description. I'm being told stuff, but I'm not being shown anything. There are no emotional anchors to Harry either. The more I reread this scene, the more I realized what was wrong.

There’s an emotional disconnect from Harry in the prose.

Do not misunderstand me: it is NOT to say that Harry isn’t emotional here. It's that the prose doesn’t grip me, the reader, by the chest and twist my heart with his overwhelming emotions. The prose doesn't prove anything, doesn't show me anything. This is an intense, terrifying moment for Harry. It should feel visceral. It should feel tangible. I should be able to taste his fear.

We also don’t get too much information about the emotional states of Ron and Hermione. We have hints, of course. But we can’t feel them. The emotions of the scene are dampened, muffled, dull even.

With an untrained eye, you might disagree. It's okay. You'll see what I mean soon.

Page 731 exact quote:

"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven...He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there....He's torturing him....Says he'll end by killing him..." Harry found his voice shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to a desk and sat down on it, trying to master himself.

(Btw, punctuation issue: you do not use an ellipsis and a period together and there should be a space after the ellipsis.)

This is the only instance in the five pages where we get any information about Harry's physical state.

And it's written in such a weak 'telling' instead of 'showing' way, too.

How and where was his voice shaking? How are his knees shaking? Are they knocking together in a weird way that's kind of physically improbable? Or was it actually his legs were shaking? Isn't he leaning against the door? If his weight was resting against the door, then there'd be less shaking in his knees or legs because his knees would be locked to brace his body against the door. His arms and hands would be shaking, though.

How does Harry master himself? What does that look like? Slow breaths? Running a hand through his hair? Rubbing his face and eyes? How is Harry mastering himself? Is it mentally? Then, where are those mastering thoughts? What are they and why do those thoughts in particular help Harry 'master' himself?

What's Harry's tone as he talking about Voldemort threatening to kill Sirius? How is Harry feeling about this? Give me MORE!

The dialogue is presented to the reader in a bland, empty fashion. Harry is relating something to Ron and Hermione. I could switch the dialogue out with anything and it'd still make sense.

There is little surrounding the dialogue to anchor it.

So, let's rewrite this, shall we?

"I dunno how," said Harry, letting out a shaky breath. His hands clenched into fists against the door of the classroom. "But I know where—they're in a room in the Department of Mysteries that's filled with rows of shelves holding these... weird little glass balls. They're in row ninety-seven. Voldemort, he's—" Harry's voice broke. His breath caught in his throat. The memory of the vision returned full force into his mind, the image of Sirius on the floor at Voldemort's feet stark in his mind. He ducked his chin; his chest inhaled in a desperate breath and the edges of his eyes burned. He's torturing Sirius—I can't just wait around. I can't lose him. Harry looked up at Ron, whose face had grown pale, while Hermione stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. The strength in Harry's legs weakened. "He needs Sirius to get whatever it is he wants and he's—" Harry sucked in a gasp, his voice trembling like an autumn leaf in a thunderstorm. "—he's torturing Sirius... says he'll kill him in the end." His knees buckled. Harry stumbled to the nearest desk; Ron reached out with a steadying hand on Harry's upper arm and silent gratitude filled Harry's heart. With shaky arms, Harry lifted himself onto the desk to sit and twisted around to face Ron and Hermione. He licked his dry lips, rubbed his eyes with a hand, and took slow, deep breaths to master his fraying emotions.

The original canon text has 57 words of dialogue with a total of 83 words.

My rewritten version uses 56 words of dialogue with a total of 247 words.

I'm going to drill this concept into your heads, my lovely students: this is what I mean when I keep saying JKR's writing is both bloated and underwritten.

I only rewrote a single paragraph and its following line. The five pages I've provided are filled with this kind of empty dialogue.

So, what have I done here? Can you see the difference? Can you feel the difference?

Let's analyze what I focused on in this scene to show Harry's body language and his thoughts. I upped the physical effects on Harry's body. His fear causes his voice to break in the middle of explaining what's going on. He's terrified of losing Sirius, the only father figure he's ever known. Voldemort might take another parental figure from him.

And now the prose reflects these feelings, not just in his thoughts, but also in how he speaks and reacts to what is around him. He is not just speaking at the reader.

Harry exists in his world.

And you can feel it.

When he stumbles to the desk, Ron is there for him. Hermione reacting could also be added here. There is a lot that can be added to this scene, if one wanted to expand this further.

Yes, what I've done has increased the word count, yet it strengthens this short moment—and I'd do this for the entire scene.

What I did to the scene is merely one version of its potential. It could be rewritten in a multitude of ways and go in various directions. I spent 10mins to 20mins on it. I haven't edited it or refined it.

Can you finally see what I mean now?

If you compare the highlighted pages of HP5 to the highlighted pages of Chp 24 of TBG, you can visually see the difference in the density of the dialogue. JKR is the one whose writing is oversaturated with dialogue. My writing will always be highly saturated with dialogue because my stories are character driven. I prefer stories like that. But I also need the dialogue to be interesting and engaging, where the character feels alive in their world.

When I say there's too much dialogue, this scene is such a good example of this because Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all over the place in their interactions with each other. Yes, you want your characters to sound realistic, but you're also the author curating an experience for the reader.

There's a balancing tightrope act between having realistic dialogue and unnecessary dialogue.

There's a thin line between showing too much and telling too little.

Lastly, if I were to improve the overall scene, I would center the focus on Harry's desperation to rescue Sirius. As Ron and Hermione try to talk him out of it, where Hermione delivers that iconic line of 'you have a people saving thing,' I'd have Harry explode with something like this:

"You don't know what's it like! You both have your parents—I-I don't... You'd feel the same as me if it were either of your parents being tortured by Voldemort, yeah? I can't lose him—I can't lose Sirius."

I'm not bothering with description around it right now. I just wanted to give the baseline dialogue to show you the theme I'd carry through this scene. It's all about Sirius. It's all about the fear of losing him. It's about showing the emotion of the character and making the reader feel that deeply.

And that's what matters the most.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part Two in this series. We have discussed fives pages in JKR's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The pages in question are 731 - 735 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

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homunculus-argument · 11 days

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hey there! this sounds like a bit of a silly question, but as a trans guy, you’re one of the few trans people i’ve been following almost since i joined tumblr, so based on your other anon ask and answer i figured i’d pop in and ask if you have any advice? if you want to answer, ofc :) — i foresee this being a bit long, so i totally get if not

so i’m also a trans guy, but i haven’t been able to take any steps toward medical transitioning before since i live with my parents. but i’ll move out soon, and i still can’t decide if i should take any of these steps even once i do. i’ve never felt like i particularly wanted to medically transition (i don’t really care about how my body looks + i’ve never really cared about changing any of it), but i would like to be seen a guy — i don’t mind if not so by strangers, but maybe so by like, my friends. but i can’t help but feel like i’d be laughed at for wanting that — i’m not naturally androgynous or masculine looking to others and i have never been mistaken for a guy, because i have really long hair, d cups, and curves. and without medically transitioning, i also kinda feel like i’m… betraying the trans community, since i’m not really putting the effort into my transition and so i’m just ‘pretending’, even though i do know i’m not.

so my question would be: as a trans person who has transitioned, socially and medically, do you think people are more understanding than i think they are currently? do you know of any trans people who don’t want to medically transition, and do you think it’s possible to live fulfilled that way? or even: do you think it would be easier for someone like me to just live a lie? i usually tell people i’m a lesbian, because they definitely would not look at me and assume ‘straight guy’, but also, as a trans person who doesn’t want to medically transition, i’m just always worried that i won’t be taken seriously. i feel like your experience of being trans and probably interacting with the community is much more than mine, which is why i ask this last one — i would try being open myself, but again, i’m still living with my parents unfortunately.

I'll be honest I don't actually really know much "community" save for former art school classmates. I've only known one trans person irl who chose not to medically transition - at the time, Finland's trans law was still shitty and required sterilisation for legal sex change, and all that. She didn't want kids or anything, but refused to engage in the process as her own little personal civilian protest. I don't want to paint some caricature picture of some Sharp Dommy Tall Scary Goth Trans Anarchist, but I was deeply impressed by the way she didn't do a single thing to try to seem smaller, softer, or in any way submissive or docile to be ~feminine~ the right, socially accepted way.

She wasn't just taller than most men but usually the tallest person in the room, and she stood out in a crowd of cis women like a crane in a chicken coop - a bird just as much as they are, but a different kind of bird. And I remember thinking that I could never do that, being so unflinching and unhesitant about standing out in the crowd because assimilating and muting yourself is beneath your dignity.

Honestly, I don't know what to tell you about being openly trans without transitioning medically, save for that it takes more guts than being able to just go stealth. I had physical dysphoria about the way my body was, and was desperate to get top surgery just for the sake of my own physical comfort, and I like the convenient anonymity of being able to just be Just Some Guy who doesn't attract anyone's interest or curiosity.

It's a smart move to not come out to your parents before you're out of their house and not relying on them for anything - this is something everyone should use their own judgement for, but I stress it to every queer kid to not take the risk if there's any chance that they'll react poorly while they still have power over you. But living your whole life in the closet - "living a lie" is a good way to put it - will corrode you from the inside.

It's better to live in peace with yourself and against the world, than in peace with the world against yourself. There is absolutely nothing in your power that you could do to change the minds of people who have already decided that they don't respect you, and if they try telling you that they would, if you only met their approved criteria, they are lying. That's bait they're dangling in front of you, and there's no "earning" the respect of such people.

Stay true to yourself and be good to people, and you'll have the respect of people who are capable of respecting you. Don't waste your time and energy on people who won't respect you, every thought and effort you spare them is wasted on them.

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kepamount · 1 year

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let me love you

mason mount x reader - one-night stand, smut and fluff

warnings: discussion and consumption of alcohol, brief mention of drugs, brief mention of infidelity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, praise and degradation, crying during sex, asphyxiation, overstimulation, i think that's it but pls lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 10.4k+

rating: M

a/n: hey guys! this is the first instalment of a new trilogy from the ariana grande series! the next two parts after this will be titled safety net and into you (after the two songs ofc), and hopefully it won't take me too long to get those out! this hasn't been proofread so pls forgive any mistakes lol. lmk what you think, hope you enjoy! <3

‘You alright, love? Can I-’ ‘I’m not interested,’ I respond shortly, not even looking in his direction as I pass by, following after Steph and Isla as they lead me through the club. We walked through the front entrance less than a minute ago, and I’ve already had four different guys try it on with me. They must really appreciate my skin-tight, tiny black dress, and the face of makeup I spent an hour doing.

The back room is cut off by a velvet rope, manned by four big and burly bouncers. They don’t even ask for our names or IDs, moving the rope out of our way as soon as we approach and letting us through without a word. I feel myself relax as soon as the curtain falls shut behind us, the music that was blasting in the main room becoming a low pulse in the background so I can actually hear myself think.

‘Benny!’ Steph exclaims when she spots her boyfriend across the room, forgetting about us and rushing over to him. I almost want to remind her that she’s here with her friends, but I can’t be annoyed when I see his face light up at the sight of her, his arms outstretched so she can fall into them, instantly dropping into his lap and pressing her lips to his.

‘You can go to your boyfriend as well, if you want,’ I say amusedly to Isla, the girl already making eye contact with Cal, the boy beckoning her over with a cocky head motion. ‘Nah, it’s girls’ night,’ she says, though she sounds completely unconvincing, and I roll my eyes. ‘Just go. I’ll be fine. Gonna get myself a drink, or five,’ I say drily, Isla laughing. ‘I’ll be back in a couple minutes though, okay?’ she promises, and I nod, watching her go and join him.

Most girls who have just gotten out of a relationship would feel shitty at seeing their friends and their boyfriends together, but I couldn’t care less if I tried. In fact, I’m relieved I’m single now. My ex was so boring that I can’t even remember the last time I was in the club, and it feels good to be back. I’m ready to get drunk as hell, snort some blow and then get a box of 20 nuggets on the way home.

‘Three shots of tequila and a glass of rosé, please,’ I ask the bartender, the boy instantly starting on my drinks as I get my phone out of my bag, checking through my notifications. I laugh to myself when I see that I’ve got seven texts and three missed calls from my ex. Someone must have spotted me at the bar we went to before this place and reported back to him already, so now he’s saying he’ll pick me up and take me back to his at the end of the night if I want him to. I’d rather crash at Steph and Ben’s and have to listen to them having sex in the next room.

‘Lime and salt with the tequila shots?’ the bartender asks, and I nod instantly. Tequila isn’t complete without lime and salt, and I think I’ll need whatever help I can get to stomach these shots. It’s been a while since I drank tequila that wasn’t in a cocktail, and I don’t wanna end up vomiting all over the boujee back room of this club.

‘y/n,’ a vaguely familiar voice says from behind me, and I turn to see Mason Mount standing there, looking heart-flutteringly handsome with his flattering all-black outfit, his perfectly trimmed beard, and his short hair long enough to tangle your fingers into. Not to mention his dark eyes that sparkle brighter even than the thin silver chain around his neck, visible where his top two buttons are undone.

‘Mason. Hi. Long time, no see,’ I reply with a smile, stepping forward to hug him. The last time I saw him, he was so slim, all skin and bone without an ounce of muscle on him, but he’s bulked up since, his arms feeling strong and sturdy when he wraps them around me. ‘It’s been too long,’ he agrees as we break apart, which is kind of him to say.

We’re more acquaintances than friends, and even that feels like a bit of a stretch. My best friends date two of his teammates, so we used to see each other fleetingly at parties or on match days, but we barely spoke when we did see each other, just polite greetings and superficial small talk. And even those encounters became a rarity after I got into a relationship with my ex-boyfriend, a player on a different team, and became a social recluse. Not seeing Mason for so long has made me forget how beautiful he is.

‘Should I give you my condolences or my congratulations?’ he asks with a mirthful glint in his eyes, and I can’t help but let out a little laugh. ‘Congratulations, definitely. I’m glad to finally be free,’ I say drily as the bartender puts a wineglass down in front of me. I pick it up, clinking it against Mason’s whiskey tumbler, both of us taking long sips of our drinks.

‘I didn’t realise you drank,’ I say, knowing that Ben’s in the minority as a footballer who loves a good drink from time to time. ‘I don’t, really. We’ve been here an hour and I’m still on my first,’ he says bashfully, making me laugh. ‘You chose the worst possible spirit. If you don’t drink often, you’re supposed to have a vodka and coke or something. A drink where you can’t even taste the alcohol. Whiskey’s awful,’ I say, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

‘You’re an expert on alcohol then?’ he asks amusedly, the bartender putting my three tequila shots down in front of me just as he finished speaking. ‘Don’t tell me they’re all for you,’ he says with mild shock on his face, and I nod proudly. ‘I’m newly single and everyone here knows it. I need all the help I can get to get through the night,’ I say drily, putting down my wineglass as an idea appears in my mind. It's a terrible idea – the entire room will be watching if I do this, and it’ll only enrage my ex when he finds out – but the boy standing next to me is far too enticing for me to decide not to do this.

‘Can I borrow your hand?’ I ask innocently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘My… hand?’ he echoes, and I nod amusedly. ‘To take my shots,’ I clarify, the boy still looking lost. ‘You’ve never done tequila shots before?’ I ask, Mason shaking his head, looking intrigued. ‘Can I?’ I ask, holding a hand out to him, and he nods, putting down his drink and resting his hand in mine.

‘So first, you’re supposed to coat your tongue in salt, so that it’s easier to drink the tequila. Traditionally, you put salt on this part of someone’s hand and lick it off,’ I say, running a manicured nail down the skin that connects his thumb to the rest of his hand. ‘And you’re supposed to lick the skin before you even put the salt on,’ I add, the boy raising an amused eyebrow. ‘Go ahead then,’ he prompts, victory unfurling in my chest as I pass him a lime to hold in his empty hand.

I lift his hand to my mouth, eyes locked with his as I drag my tongue along his skin, his pupils dilating as he watches me. I shake some salt out onto the damp part of his skin, licking that up too, my tongue stinging with the sharp flavour. I pick up the shot, knocking it back and trying my best not to wince, before taking his other hand into mine, lifting it so he can put the lime in my mouth, my eyes on his as I suck the juice out of it, the tips of his fingers touching my lips.

‘Bit much just for a shot, isn’t it?’ he asks amusedly, though his darkened eyes and slightly heavier breathing betray him, the boy clearly worked up. ‘People do body shots with tequila, which is even worse. Licking salt and sucking limes off different parts of people’s bodies,’ I tell him, the look on his face making it instantly obvious that his mind is imagining what it would be like to do body shots with me. I wonder which part of my body he’d choose.

‘Well, if you’re about to ask me if you can do body shots in the middle of the room, I’m gonna have to decline,’ he jokes, prompting a soft laugh from me. ‘I have more decorum than to do body shots in public,’ I smile, the boy grinning. ‘Only in private then?’ ‘Only in private,’ I confirm, both of us laughing.

‘Here, you do one of these. Not as a body shot. Just a normal one,’ I say, and he looks conflicted. ‘I’ll set it up for you,’ I smile, licking my own hand and pouring out the salt before picking up a lime, resting it in my exposed collarbone. He’s instantly convinced, a dark grin on his face as he lifts my hand to his mouth. He licks up the salt along with my own saliva on my hand, before picking up the shot and knocking it back impossibly fast, trying to get to the last step as quickly as possible. He slides a hand around to the back of my neck, pulling me closer and leaning down to take the lime, his lips brushing my skin so lightly that I wonder if I imagined it.

He sucks the lime dry, dropping the peel in the empty shot glass with a grin before licking some juice from his lip, my eyes zoning in on the action, my stomach tightening with desire. He really is a beautiful man, and I know I’ll be disappointed if I don’t go home with him tonight.

‘Gonna do your last one?’ he asks, not waiting for my answer before he sets it up, putting the lime between his teeth, a challenging glint in his eyes. Never one to back down, I lick up the salt, knock back the shot, and push myself up onto my tip toes, leaning in and taking the lime from his mouth, being careful not to let our lips touch. If he wants a kiss from me, he’s gonna have to be a big boy and ask for one.

The disappointment in his face almost makes me laugh as I swallow down the sour lime juice, putting the peel and the empty glass down on the bar. I’m suddenly aware of lots of eyes on us, whispered conversation filling the room, and I smile. ‘We got people talking.’ ‘Your ex won’t be happy.’ ‘Forgive me if I don’t particularly care,’ I say drily, sipping on my wine, and the boy grins. ‘Let’s give him something to be really angry about then,’ he suggests, and I raise an intrigued eyebrow.

‘Come home with me. I hate going to the club. Your friends have ditched you for their boyfriends. There’s no reason for us to be here,’ he murmurs, and I feel butterflies fill my stomach, so tempted by the thought. ‘I’ve only been here ten minutes, if that. It feels like a waste of an outfit, and my hair and makeup took ages,’ I say forlornly, and he laughs. ‘I’m enjoying your outfit, babe, and your hair and makeup. It’s not a waste,’ he promises, and I feel myself swaying even more at the pet name. ‘I wanted to get drunk tonight,’ I pout, and he rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘I have loads of wine at home. You can take your pick,’ he offers, and I’m convinced.

‘Okay. Let’s say bye to our friends and then go,’ I say before downing my wine, the boy offering me his arm so I can link mine through it. He leads me over to where his friends sit, Isla and Steph part of the group, and they all try to pretend they weren’t just watching and talking about us.

‘We’re gonna go and get something to eat,’ Mason says, not even trying to come up with a decent excuse, and badly-stifled laughter runs around the group. ‘Those limes didn’t fill you up?’ Ben asks, Steph elbowing him in his side amongst more laughter. ‘Okay. Just text us when you get home,’ Isla says, directing the comment to me, and I nod though I know her and Steph will be checking my location anyway.

‘Look after her, Mount. I’ll kill you if something happens to her,’ Steph warns, Mason nodding seriously. ‘He’ll take care of her, don’t worry,’ Cal says, clearly making a dirty joke, and Isla hits him with her bag as they all laugh again. ‘You’re all so annoying,’ I sigh, the boys laughing even harder at that, and I just wave goodbye to Isla and Steph as Mason leads me away from them and towards the exit.

We have to walk single-file in the main room because of how packed it is, so Mason untangles our arms, clasping my hand tightly in his instead, leading the way around the edge of the room and looking back every few seconds to check I’m okay. I can just imagine the tabloids in the morning, not to mention the blurry photos and videos of us on Twitter and TikTok. The football world and the celeb gossip scene is gonna have a field day with this.

I can’t help the shiver that racks through my body the second we step outside, Mason instantly shrugging off his jacket and draping it over my shoulders. I don’t even have a chance to protest because the valet approaches us, Mason grabbing his wallet from his pocket, handing the valet his ticket.

‘You drove?’ I ask when the valet goes to get his car, and he nods. ‘So I could make a quick escape if I wanted to. I’ve only had three sips of whiskey.’ ‘And a tequila shot,’ I add, the boy grinning. ‘And a tequila shot,’ he repeats, my phone making several text notification noises a moment later. I get my phone out of my bag, unable to hold back a laugh at seeing that it’s Steph and Isla blowing up the group chat, clearly not as cool, calm and collected about the whole thing as they pretended to be before.

‘The girls?’ he asks amusedly, and I nod with a little sigh. ‘They’re freaking out. Sending texts in all caps to the groupchat,’ I say, the boy laughing. ‘I’m surprised they didn’t say anything when we were still inside.’ ‘Girl code. You have to play it cool. Can’t let the guy get a big head from thinking that it’s a big deal that your friend’s going home with him,’ I tell him, his grin growing. ‘Is it a big deal?’ ‘Kind of, I guess. I’ve been in a relationship for a couple years, and I wasn’t one for… going home with guys even before that,’ I tell him, and he tilts his head thoughtfully.

‘What about after your relationship? You’ve been broken up for a while now, haven’t you?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Yeah. Two weeks since we announced it, but I dumped him about a month ago.’ ‘And you haven’t… had a rebound in that month?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly, the boy looking satisfied at that. ‘I’m honoured.’ ‘You should be,’ I reply, Mason laughing.

The valet pulls up in front of us in Mason’s Lamborghini, jumping out and handing Mason the keys, the boy thanking him graciously which earns him brownie points. Seems basic, but when your ex was rude and arrogant, you appreciate a guy with manners. He opens the passenger side door for me, grinning at my thanks as I climb in, the boy shutting the door behind me before walking around to the driver’s side.

‘Connect your phone,’ he prompts, and I open my Settings app, clicking on the Bluetooth section and scrolling past all my saved devices to connect to his car. ‘Wow. How many cars have you connected to?’ he asks, and I let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. ‘A fair few. I’m a certified passenger princess,’ I claim, flipping my hair over my shoulder, and he just laughs, pulling away from the curb.

‘What music do you like?’ I ask, scrolling through my playlists. ‘I mainly listen to American rap, but I don’t know if that’s the vibe,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘What’s the vibe, Mount?’ I ask amusedly, the boy failing to hold back his smile. ‘Heartbreak music. You just got out of a two-year-long relationship,’ he reminds me, and I scoff. ‘Yeah, right. I was more heartbroken when I was still in the relationship than I am now,’ I laugh, Mason silent for a few seconds.

‘I know you’re probably sick of having this conversation but… what happened with him?’ he asks, and I let out a little sigh, clicking on my ‘gimme the aux’ playlist, full of songs that I play in other people’s cars to prove I’ve got good music taste. Playboi Carti comes on, Mason looking impressed, and I try not to laugh at how successful this playlist is at its purpose.

‘Our relationship got really boring towards the end. He stopped taking me on dates, buying me gifts, even complimenting me. We just spent all our time at home, watching boxsets and having sex. He became really complacent, and I realised that I deserve to be treated like a princess in a relationship, and not taken for granted or made to feel unloved the way I did. I communicated to him that I was unhappy in our relationship, and he turned around and said that he was too and that’s why he slept with the club’s social media girl,’ I say flatly, Mason’s mouth falling open in shock.

‘That is not what I was expecting you to say. Wow. I’m so sorry, y/n,’ he says, and I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, don’t worry. It didn’t really hurt me, because I just wasn’t in love with him anymore towards the end. I felt disrespected and angry, but not upset,’ I say, Mason nodding in understanding as he drives, one hand resting on the wheel whilst the other moves the gearstick every now and then. He’s a sexy driver, completely relaxed behind the wheel, his eyes flitting to the mirrors from time to time.

‘Was he at least good in bed?’ he asks, and I laugh, surprised at the question. ‘He was okay. Not the best, not the worst,’ I say fairly. ‘Same as how he is on the pitch then,’ Mason mutters, surprising another laugh out of me. ‘At least he’s consistent,’ I say, Mason’s response interrupted by my phone suddenly ringing through his car speakers, a familiar phone number appearing on the screen.

‘Spam call?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Sort of. It’s him. My ex,’ I say as I reject the call, Mason’s eyes widening in amusement. ‘No way. You didn’t even change his contact name to ‘dead to me’ or something. Just straight deleted his contact?’ he asks, and I nod with a laugh. ‘For him to be dead to me, I’d have to actually care about him, and I genuinely don’t,’ I say, my phone ringing with another call from him.

‘Please let me answer and speak to him,’ Mason says, and I shake my head instantly. ‘No way. He’ll literally go insane,’ I say, Mason grinning. ‘All the more reason.’ ‘No way. Don’t your teams play against each other soon? He’ll probably go out of his way to injure you if you piss him off,’ I say, Mason scoffing. ‘Yeah, right. I could take him.’ ‘Okay, skinny white boy. It’s not worth the risk,’ I say, Mason looking at me with big, persuasive eyes. ‘I won’t even speak. I just wanna hear what he says to you,’ he says as the ringing stops, disappointment on his face.

‘He’ll phone again. He calls three times and then gives up,’ I say, Mason looking hopeful. ‘And you’re gonna answer this time?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Yeah, okay. If it’ll make you that happy,’ I say, Mason grinning widely. He waits, almost excited for the phone to ring, unable to hold back a laugh when it rings again. ‘Go on, then,’ he prompts, and I press the green button, waiting for it to connect.

‘y/n. Where are you?’ his voice blares out from the speakers, both of us wincing. ‘Fucking hell. Are you shouting directly into your phone speaker? Why was that so loud?’ I complain, my ex letting out an irritated noise. ‘Where are you?’ ‘In a car.’ ‘Whose car?’ ‘Mason Mount’s car,’ I say, Mason grinning at the momentary stunned silence.

‘I didn’t think it was true.’ ‘Who told you?’ ‘Twitter. It’s already everywhere,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, yeah. It’s true.’ ‘Why are you in his car?’ ‘What do you mean? We’re driving somewhere. Why else would I be in his car?’ I say irritably, Mason stifling laughter. ‘Where are you driving?’ ‘It’s actually none of your business, at all,’ I remind him, a sigh sounding through the car speakers.

‘I know, but… it’s just killing me to not know what’s going on with you. All the rumours and shit, I just hate it. First, you’ve moved on with Central Cee, and then, you’re getting a marriage proposal from an Indian prince, and now, you’re dating another Prem footballer? It’s driving me insane,’ he says, and I roll my eyes again.

‘You should’ve thought about that before cheating on me and taking me for granted. We’re done now, so you don’t get to ask questions about my life and expect answers.’ ‘Fine, okay. Just at least tell me if you’ve got a new boyfriend now.’ ‘I don’t. I’m single.’ ‘So it’s just casual sex then?’ ‘She’s hanging up now,’ Mason says, a brief stunned silence following his words.

‘Who the fuck do you th-’ ‘Bye!’ I shout, hanging up on him, and Mason and I burst into laughter. ‘Right, I’d better block his number because he’s gonna spam call me now,’ I say, having to reject a call so I can block him. ‘He’s insane.’ ‘Tell me about it,’ I mutter, feeling relieved when I finally block his number.

‘What’s this about Central Cee and an Indian prince then?’ he asks, trying his best to seem relaxed but clearly curious, and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Cench and I aren’t dating. We were in the studio together for my next album, and we wanted WingStop, but delivery wasn’t available, so we drove to the nearest one and collected our order instead. People saw me in his car and the rumours started. But the Indian prince stuff is actually true. A prince spoke at some international relations meeting and mentioned wanting me as a wife in his speech,’ I say offhandedly, Mason’s eyes wide.

‘Wow. Have you responded?’ ‘No. How do you publicly reject a marriage proposal from a prince without putting yourself in serious danger?’ I say, Mason laughing. ‘What are you gonna do though? Just ignore it?’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Pretend it never happened and pray I don’t run into him until both of us are married so he can’t bring it up,’ I say drily, the boy shaking his head amusedly.

‘So you wanna get married one day?’ ‘At some point, yeah, I think so. Not for a long time, though. I wasted a couple years of my youth being in a shitty relationship, so I wanna enjoy myself for a while now. I don’t think I’ll even start dating again ‘til I’m close to my 30s. I’m more than happy to be single for a while now,’ I say, Mason nodding.

‘Fair enough. Dating again when you’re… 27, 28? Then marriage a few years later. Any kids?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. ‘Definitely. I want a few. At least four. Two boys, two girls,’ I say dreamily, Mason laughing. ‘You can’t choose, y/n.’ ‘I can if I adopt.’ ‘You want to adopt?’ he asks surprisedly, and I shrug. ‘Maybe. It’s always an option. I’m not sure if I have the pain threshold to go through pregnancy, and the idea of giving kids who would ordinarily struggle the chance for a better life and better opportunities seems really appealing to me. Why bring more children into the world when I can help the ones that are already here?’ I say, Mason smiling softly.

‘That’s really sweet. I think you’d make an amazing mother. Biological or adoptive,’ he says kindly, my heart warming. ‘Thanks, Mase. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing parent too,’ I say, the boy grinning. ‘Our kids will be lucky,’ he says, making me choke on my own gasp. ‘Our kids? Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, aren’t you, Mount?’ I ask amusedly, the boy just looking content with his own joke. ‘Never say never, y/n. You don’t know what relationship we might have in a few years’ time,’ he says in a mystical tone, and I just roll my eyes. ‘Yeah, we’ll see,’ I mutter, Mason just laughing.

We fall into a comfortable silence, Mason tapping his fingers on the wheel in time to the Lil Baby song that’s playing. I shift in my seat, my dress riding up to a point where it’s barely even covering my crotch, and I pull it down, able to feel Mason’s eyes on me as I do so. I can also feel him smirk to himself, obviously amused at how I’m trying to cover up while we’re literally on our way back to his house.

‘Cold?’ he asks, not even waiting for my answer before he turns up the heat. ‘Your jacket’s keeping me warm,’ I say, pulling it closer around me. It’s still holding the heat from his body when he was wearing it, and it holds his scent as well, something fresh and expensive.

‘You look good in it,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. It makes the outfit, I think,’ he grins, making me laugh. ‘I did think it was missing something, to be fair,’ I joke, his smile alerting me to the fact that he’s about to make a joke that he’s already very proud of. ‘It was missing the rest of its material,’ he says, and I gasp, hitting his shoulder lightly as he bites his lip to hold back laughter. To be fair, the dress is pretty tiny. The neckline barely covers my nipples and the hem barely covers my ass, not to mention the fact that it’s practically a second skin and it has the thinnest little straps that just about manage to hold it up.

‘Don’t shame me.’ ‘I’m not shaming you! It’s hypocritical to shame something you like, isn’t it?’ he asks with a grin. ‘You like it?’ ‘Yeah, I do. I love your skimpy little dress,’ he laughs, making me roll my eyes. ‘I had to wear something to give me the confidence to walk into a club for the first time in over two years.’ ‘You don’t have to explain yourself. Honestly, I’m just hoping you’re wearing outfits like this every time I see you.’ ‘I’ll wear it to your next match,’ I smile, and he falls into a thoughtful silent for a moment. ‘Actually… maybe not then. I’d end up shooting into our own goal if I spot you in the stands wearing a dress like this,’ he says drily, the car slowing down as he pulls into a familiar residential area.

‘You live around here?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘About thirty seconds down this road.’ ‘I’m literally five minutes away from here. I’m always at the Co-op at the top of the road,’ I say, the boy looking surprised. ‘No way. I’m always there as well. How have we never run into each other?’ ‘I’m glad we haven’t. I always look an absolute mess when I go, and I’m usually buying alcohol,’ I admit, Mason laughing. ‘Should I be concerned about your alcoholism?’ he asks, and I shake my head with a laugh. ‘It’s not that bad, I promise. I barely had a drop when I was with my ex.’ ‘Oh. In that case, drink as much as you want. I won’t even try to stop you,’ he grins, clearly trying to communicate that he’d be better for me thank my ex, and I just roll my eyes amusedly.

He pulls up to his house a few moments later, reversing onto the drive with his head turned, hand on the back of my seat. It takes every ounce of my self-control to not watch him, knowing I’ll probably throw myself at him the second I see him doing the sexy reversing thing. He turns off the engine, climbing out of the car and rushing around to help me out, grinning like he’s proud of himself for being so gentlemanly. He motions for me to lead the way up to the front door, following me up the drive and unlocking the door using the security system keypad set into the brick beside it.

I step into the front hall, slipping off my uncomfortable heels, my feet relieved at being flat on the cold floor. He flicks a switch beside the door as he shuts it behind us, flooding the room with light, and I find myself impressed at how nicely decorated it is. It’s also spotless enough that I can tell it was cleaned today, and I find myself unusually jealous at the thought of some girl cleaning his house. I try to comfort myself with the possibility that his cleaning staff are male, though the thought’s tinged with doubt.

‘Let me get you a drink before you start getting withdrawal symptoms,’ he jokes, stepping around me and leading me to the kitchen. It’s similar to my own, with a big island in the middle of the room, and I admire the furnishings, impressed at his taste in décor. ‘Your house is beautiful,’ I say quietly, not wanting to disrupt the complete silence filling the room. ‘Thanks. My mum helped me choose everything,’ he admits, making me laugh. ‘Well, your mum’s got good taste,’ I say, the boy smiling at hearing a compliment for his mum.

‘Which wine do you want?’ he asks, opening the wine fridge. ‘I’m happy with whatever,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You must have a favourite. Just come and choose,’ he says amusedly, busying himself with getting a wineglass and ice out for me as I look through the many unopened bottles in the fridge. I spot a bottle of Asti, instantly won over, and I get it out carefully, shutting the fridge and bringing the bottle to the island where he’s standing.

‘Why do you have so much wine if you don’t drink it?’ I ask, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he watches me pour out a half glass, dropping in two ice cubes with the little silver tongs he hands me. ‘So I’ve got something to give the girls I bring home after a night out,’ he grins, and I pretend to hit him with the tongs, the boy ducking with a laugh.

‘I’m joking, I’m joking! The wine fridge was already there when I bought the house, and Mum said I might as well just fill it up so it doesn’t look weird, and so I’ve got options for people to choose from when I host,’ he explains, and I nod in understanding, putting the wine bottle back in the fridge as he puts the ice away.

‘So do you do that on a regular basis? Bring girls home after a night out?’ I ask casually, Mason looking amused at my question. ‘Not regularly. A couple times. But I’ve never let them choose their favourite wine from my wine fridge,’ he adds, making me laugh. ‘I guess I’m special then.’ ‘So special, babe.’ ‘I’m honoured,’ I say drily, taking a sip from my glass as he laughs.

‘Can I use your toilet?’ I ask, the boy nodding. ‘It’s just down that way. Door on the left,’ he says, and I walk down the corridor he points at, opening one of the doors. ‘That’s your right, y/n, not your left,’ he laughs as I stop myself from stepping into a store cupboard. ‘Oh. I struggle remembering my left and right.’ ‘Clearly,’ he says amusedly, my eyes landing on something in his cupboard.

‘Wow, this is quite a board game collection,’ I say, Mason coming to stand behind me as I admire the three shelves lined with board game boxes. ‘I know it’s not why you came back to mine but… do you wanna play one?’ he says excitedly, like a big kid. ‘Excuse you, Mason Mount, but playing a board game is exactly the reason I came back to yours,’ I lie, pretending to be outraged by his insinuation, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, right. The only game you came here to play is an adult version of Twister,’ he grins, wiggling his eyebrows, and I can’t help but burst into laughter at the terrible joke, Mason unable to hold back his own.

‘What game shall we play then?’ I ask, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you really want to?’ ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared of losing to me, Mount,’ I taunt, his competitive streak taking over when he raises a patronising eyebrow. ‘Can’t be scared of something that has a less-than-1% chance of happening,’ he replies childishly, and I scoff. ‘Put your money where your mouth is then. Let’s play,’ I challenge, and he holds out a hand for me to shake. ‘You’re on.’

And five minutes later, here we are. Two grown adults on the carpeted floor of his living room on a Saturday night in our clubbing clothes, two Guess Who? boards set up between us and my wineglass on the coffee table beside us, music playing from his sound system in the background. Mason’s lying on his front, legs outstretched, while I’m sitting with my legs bent to the side, keeping my thighs clamped shut.

‘Okay, shall I start?’ ‘Wait,’ he says suddenly, that mischievous glint in his eyes again, ‘let’s… raise the stakes a bit.’ ‘Don’t tell me you wanna put money on Guess Who?, because that is a low I’m not ready to go to,’ I say with narrowed eyes, the boy laughing. ‘No, not money. What about… clothes?’ he suggests, and I tilt my head in confusion. ‘The loser buys the winner a new wardrobe?’ ‘No, y/n. You lose a round, you lose an item of clothing,’ he grins, and my eyes widen in surprise.

‘Don’t chicken out on me now, babe,’ he taunts, and I roll my eyes, my own competitive streak appearing. ‘I’m no chicken, but it’s unfair on me. You’re wearing way more than I am,’ I pout, and he’s silent for a moment, obviously working it out. ‘No, we’ve got the same. I’ve got socks, boxers, trousers and shirt. You’ve got dress, bra, pants and my jacket,’ he lists off, and I bite my lip, feeling awkward about having to tell him he’s overestimating what I’ve got on. ‘I’m not wearing a bra. Or pants,’ I say quietly, his mouth falling open for a moment.

‘Nothing under your dress?’ ‘Nope.’ ‘Right. I guess that’s not as simple then,’ he says, clearly trying not to laugh, and I don’t reply for a moment, debating whether or not I’m bold enough for this. And then I decide, fuck it. ‘It’s still simple in my eyes. I told you, Mount. I’m not a chicken,’ I murmur, his eyes darkening as he grins. ‘You’re sure?’ 100%.’ ‘Let’s do it, then,’ he says, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

We start the most competitive game of Guess Who? ever, both of us aggressively tapping down the tiles on our boards. I win the first round, downing half of my wine in celebration as he pulls his socks off. He throws one at me, my scream as I bat it away making him burst into laughter. He wins the next round, and I reluctantly take off his jacket, resting it on the sofa as he gives me a greasy grin, bursting into laughter again when I lean over to swat at him.

‘You’d better pray you don’t lose the next round,’ he says, sitting up with his shoulders in a competitive stance, and I smile confidently. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to,’ I promise, and I’m right. I win the next round, managing to guess correctly when I still have six people left to guess from, and his mouth falls open at how lucky I am.

‘What shall I take off then?’ ‘You’re letting me choose?’ I ask, the boy nodding, lips quirked up in amusement. ‘Shirt. Obviously,’ I say, the boy laughing as his hands lift to undo the buttons on his shirt. Our eyes are locked together as he shrugs his shirt off, but once he’s shirtless, I can’t resist the temptation to let my gaze slide over his bare torso, muscles and tan skin and tattoos galore. Desire settles low in my stomach as he watches me admire him, a darkly satisfied look on his face. His light-hearted and jokey side is slowly melting away, leaving a very intimidating side in its wake.

‘When you’re finished… I’m ready to beat you again,’ he says in a low tone laced with mirth, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t bet on it, babe. I’m winning this round as well,’ I say with conviction, and I’m right again. It comes down to the wire this time, pretty much anyone’s game, but I manage to scrape the win at the last second, the boy looking outraged that he didn’t.

He stands up as I sip victoriously on the last of my wine, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers before pushing them down his strong legs and kicking them aside. I feel my pulse quickening as I look up at him standing there in nothing but his Calvins, a noticeable tent in them already. He grins at me as he sits back down, and I avoid his amused gaze, resetting my Guess Who? board.

‘Last round,’ he reminds me, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, knowing what’s coming right after this round. He doesn’t seem to be trying very hard to win, but my nervousness distract me from concentrating, and by the time he makes his guess, I’ve still got half my board up. I can’t even muster up the disappointment at losing, too on edge about the fact that I’m about to strip off my dress to leave myself naked in Mason Mount’s living room.

‘Why do you look like you’re about to vomit?’ he asks amusedly, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his elbows. ‘Too much to drink,’ I say weakly, the boy sighing. ‘y/n, if you’ve changed your mind, you can say so. Don’t worry ab-’ ‘No, it’s not that. I’m just… I haven’t slept with anyone other than my ex in the last three years. And almost every time we slept together, it was boring and never felt special. It was just a really dull part of our routine. This is different. I feel nervous,’ I admit, Mason chuckling softly.

‘Come here,’ he says softly as he pushes the Guess Who? boards aside, speaking in a tone that no-one would ever be able to say no to, and I crawl across the carpet towards him. When I reach him, he slides an arm around my waist, effortlessly lifting me to straddle him, his bulge pressing directly onto my core.

‘There’s nothing to be nervous about, y/n. We’ll take this as slowly as you want to, and we don’t have to do it at all if you decide you don’t want to. There’s only one thing I want you to feel tonight, and that isn’t anxiety,’ he murmurs, one of his hands resting on my back as he lifts the other hand to brush a lock of hair back from my face, butterflies exploding in my stomach.

‘We can play another game if you want? Or I can get you another glass of wine before you start getting withdrawal shakes?’ he jokes lightly, and I can’t hold back my giggle, the boy smiling at the sound. ‘I’m okay,’ I say, lifting my hands to rest on his bare chest, his skin hot against my palms. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. I don’t want games, or wine. All I want is you,’ I say shyly, his grin growing. ‘That works out well then.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. I’m already yours, babe,’ he murmurs, sliding his hand up to the back of my neck and pulling me closer.

My eyes slide shut as he kisses me, his lips pushing mine apart and his tongue sliding into my mouth. The kiss is sweet wine and bitter tequila, my head going light at the taste of him on my mouth while his hands roam up and down my sides. I slide my hands up his chest to the back of his neck, using my grip on him to press my torso against his, accidently rocking forward against his bulge. The friction makes me whimper into his mouth, and he groans at the noise, gripping my waist to press me down again, stealing the breath from each other’s mouths as though the only air that works for either of us comes from each other’s lungs.

The kiss escalates quickly, my hands gripping onto his hair as his fingers press into my waist tightly enough to leave bruises, controlling my movements so I’m grinding down onto him, both of us moaning into each other’s mouths. His skin is so hot against mine, and I realise I want to touch every inch of it, my hands sliding down from his hair to explore the curves and ridges of his strong body.

‘Can I?’ he asks against my lips as his hands slip down to my thighs, tips of his fingers playing with the hem of my dress. I hum into the kiss as response, his hands instantly disappearing under my dress and sliding over my bare skin, pulling the material up with them. We break apart briefly so he can pull it over my head, throwing it over his shoulder as he reconnects our lips, my boobs smushed against his chest. His hands explore my completely naked body as I continue grinding down onto him, unclothed core dripping arousal all over his underwear.

‘Fuck, you’re so wet. I need to…’ he breathes into my mouth, lying back and bringing my body down on top of his before rolling us over, the soft carpet against my skin as he hovers over me. ‘Can I touch you?’ ‘Please,’ I whisper, his hand instantly moving down to push my legs apart, two fingers lightly swiping across my folds to collect up my arousal. He lifts his hand to his mouth, tasting me on his skin, and he lets out an appreciative noise.

‘You taste so good, babe,’ he praises, slipping the two fingers between my lips, and I suck on them gently, able to taste myself. He takes his hand from my mouth, replacing it with his own mouth and capturing my lips in a kiss, absorbing the moan I let out when he pushes those two fingers into me. He remains still for a few moments to let me adjust, distracting me from the stretch with a messy kiss, tongues and teeth clashing.

He breaks away from me when he starts moving his fingers, slowing sliding them in and out of me, my walls fluttering around them as I bite down on my lip to hold back any noises. His eyes are trained on my face, watching intently for my reactions as he presses his thumb down on my clit, my back arching up from the floor as my breath catches in my throat.

He curls his fingers inside me, a pathetic whimper escaping my lips, and he fails at trying to hold back his satisfaction at the sound. ‘I know, baby, I know,’ he murmurs, half-soothingly and half-patronisingly, his tone making me gush around his fingers. He’s trying his best to take it slow but he can’t resist increasing his pace, rocking his hand against me so his palm rubs my clit whilst his fingers move inside me, little moans falling from my lips every few seconds.

‘That’s it, babe, good girl. Let me hear how good it feels,’ he prompts with a small grin, replacing his palm with his thumb and rubbing hard and slow circles on my clit, forcing a desperate whimper out of me. I look up at him, stomach turning when I realise he’s still watching me, eyes studying my face as his fingers work their magic, and I can barely maintain his eye contact, hearing him chuckle when my back arches up again, a gentle moan escaping my lips.

‘Fuck, you sound so pretty,’ he mutters, fingers curling inside me again, and I can’t help but clamp my thighs together, overwhelmed at the sensation. ‘Want me to stop?’ he asks, hand stopping its movements, and I shake my head desperately, needing him to stop but needing him to carry on even more. He grins amusedly as he pulls one of my legs up so it bends at the knee between our bodies, allowing his fingers to go even deeper inside me. ‘Fuck, Mason,’ I breathe out when his fingers brush against that spot inside me, and he curses under his breath at hearing his name on my lips.

I clutch at the carpet as his fingers continue to thrust into me at a ever-quickening pace, an obscene squelching filling the room. ‘God, you’re so wet. Soaking my carpet, dirty girl,’ he chuckles, and I let out whine after whimper as he starts to bring me to the edge. ‘You’re doing all the work now, y/n. Feels good, baby?’ he asks softly, tone laced with cockiness, and I only realise after he says it that I’m grinding down onto his hand, each movement sending gentle waves of pleasure through me.

My body squirms beneath his, walls clenching around him, and he knows that I’m close, his pace quickening as he whispers honeyed filth into my ear. ‘Close, babe?’ he asks, and all I can do is nod, letting out a loud moan. ‘Fuck, bet my neighbours are gonna come knocking soon with a noise complaint. But how could anyone complain about your pretty noises, babe?’ he grins, the thought of being heard only prompting a fresh wave of arousal that soaks his skin.

‘Fuck, Mason, I’m gonna…’ I trail off, feeling myself get closer with every brush of his thumb at my clit and every curl of his fingers inside me. ‘Gonna cum, babe? You wanna cum on my fingers?’ he whispers against my ear, and I just let out a moan in response, teetering at the edge. I’m so close, and then he takes his fingers out of me, my orgasm disappearing within seconds, and I whine, eyes filling with tears of frustration and desperation.

‘Don’t complain, babe. I’m not done,’ he murmurs soothingly as he moves down my body, pressing kisses my skin. He briefly sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, making me sigh in pleasure, before continuing down my body, pushing my legs apart so he can settle between them.

He doesn’t waste any time, immediately burying his head between my inner thighs and sucking my clit into his mouth. I let out a moan of his name, fingers tangling into his hair as he alternates between flicking his tongue over my clit and slurping at my folds noisily like a man starved. It doesn’t take long for my orgasm to build up again, and I fall over the edge when he pushes his tongue inside me, his nose pressing against my clit.

My vision goes blurry as I moan out loudly, fingers gripping onto his soft locks for any form of stability as the pleasure crashes through my body in strong waves, my limbs tense and tight. As my orgasm subsides, my body goes slack beneath him, and he takes it upon himself to continue eating me out. I whine at the overstimulation, body squirming as he sucks and flicks my clit whilst thrusting one finger into me.

‘Mase, I can’t. It’s too much,’ I whimper between moans, tears steadily running down my face, and when he finally gives me reprieve, I let out a long sigh of relief, a dark grin on his face as he sits up on his knees. ‘You’re not done already, are you, babe? Haven’t even let me fuck you yet,’ he murmurs, slipping a hand into his Calvins and touching himself, my core flooding with arousal at the sight.

I sit up, pulling his underwear down just enough to free his cock, mouth-watering at the sight of it. I can’t resist from leaning down and sucking the head between my lips, his salty pre-cum coating my tongue. ‘As much as I’d love to feel your mouth right now, babe, I’d love to be inside you even more. Gonna let me fuck you?’ he asks as I sit up, and I nod shyly, his grin growing.

‘Let me grab a condom from ups-’ ‘No, don’t. I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,’ I say, his eyes darkening. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Are you clean?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Then, yeah, I’m sure. I wanna feel you raw,’ I breathe out, his pupils blown out completely with lust. ‘Fuck. Yeah. Okay, then. How d’you want it?’ he asks, and I think it over for a moment. Missionary’s always been my favourite – I’m a simple girl – but for a one-night stand with a friend of a friend, it feels a bit too intimate. The last thing I need is to stare into his pretty eyes while he fucks me. I’ll end up falling in love.

‘From behind,’ I murmur quietly, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he grins, making me question if I’m imagining it. ‘Get on your hands and knees for me, babe,’ he prompts, and I do as he says, anticipating his touch on me. And then he smacks my ass harshly, making me let out a pained yelp, before he rubs the area soothingly.

‘This is fucking perfect,’ he mutters, groping my ass cheeks like a horny teenage boy, and I push back into him, needing him to fuck me. ‘Okay, okay, I get the hint,’ he laughs, his hands disappearing from my ass a moment later. I let out a moan the second I feel him running the head of his cock down my folds, another escaping my lips when he begins pushing into me.

‘Good girl. That’s a good girl,’ he says, voice soft and soothing as he slowly sinks into me, the slightly painful stretch tearing a sob from my throat, and he rubs my back soothingly as he bottoms out. ‘Feels so big,’ I whimper, and he chuckles lightly, his ego obviously inflated. ‘You’re taking it so well, babe,’ he praises as he stays still inside me, allowing me to adjust. ‘Please, Mason, move,’ I plead, and his hands stop rubbing, gripping my waist instead. ‘Sure?’ he asks, though I can feel that he’s practically itching to fuck me. ‘Yes, need you,’ I breathe out, and he doesn’t hesitate any longer.

He pulls out before slamming back in, winding me. He’s ruthless, pounding into me so hard that his balls slap against my thighs, hands digging into my waist, both our skin damp with sweat. My head falls forward, and he leans over to grab my hair in one hand, tugging it to hold my head up, the pull only slightly painful. He fucks into me, hard, with no restraint, my head bent back at an uncomfortable angle, my moans projecting around the room. ‘Does my pretty baby like being fucked like this?’ he asks, the pet name making me gush, and my moans seem to be answer enough for him, a strained chuckle falling from his lips.

He props one foot up on the floor, allowing him to hammer into me at a bruising pace, cock filling me up completely, having me completely blissed out. ‘You take it so well, babe. So well. You take it like such a good little slut,’ he breathes out between grunts, and it’s heart-stopping, toe-curling, tear-inducing, the way he’s fucking me, so good I can’t think of anything but him, and how fucking amazing this feels.

My arms give way before I can realise how much they’re aching, and I fall face first into the carpet. ‘Shit, baby, I’m sorry. Are you tired?’ he asks gently, his cock stilling inside me, and I try to lift myself back up, desperate to feel him again. He slips an arm around my stomach and, at first, I think he’s just trying to help me back into position but, instead, he pulls me all the way up so my back is pressed to his front, my body weight resting partially on my knees but mainly on him.

He continues fucking into me in this new position, but at an agonisingly slow pace. He rocks into me, cock dragging against my walls leisurely, and I can feel it even more like this, can feel every inch filling me up and stretching me out. I let out a loud moan of his name and he slips two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.

‘You’re so loud, babe. Gonna have the neighbours knocking on the door, but I don’t wanna rush. Wanna take my time with you. Isn’t that what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you nice and slow?’ he murmurs against my ear, and I let out a garbled moan around his fingers, my wetness dripping down my own thighs.

He takes the sound as a yes, grinning against my neck as he fucks me deep, and I whimper and whine around his fingers as he lets out sinfully soft grunts and groans against my skin. He brings a hand to rest at the base of my neck, fingers still in my mouth. ‘Feels good?’ he asks, and I just about manage to nod as my eyes roll back, a little laugh falling from his lips.

His hand around my neck tightens, cutting off my airways slightly, and I let out an unintelligible string of curses around his fingers, my breathing quickly becoming laboured. I clench around him sporadically, quickly feeling my high approaching, and he can feel it too, keeping his torturous pace with a smirk pressed to the side of my throat.

He releases my neck after a few moments and I gasp for air, my inhale cut off when he puts a hand on my forehead and pulls my head back far enough for us to make eye contact, his face just as handsome upside down. His eyes are dark, skin flushed, and hair pasted down to his forehead with sweat.

‘Fuck, you’re so pretty, babe. This body is so perfect. So beautiful, and so good for me, with your pretty noises. My pretty baby,’ he murmurs, my body weakening and my heart skipping beats at all the praise. I’m so close, but I just need more – his pace is mind-blowing, and the dirty talk has butterflies going wild in my stomach, but it’s not enough to push me over the edge.

‘Faster, Mase,’ I mumble around his fingers, and he shakes his head amusedly. ‘You’re crying, babe. You can’t even handle this, and you want it faster?’ he chuckles before complying, pounding into me hard enough that the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, filling my ears along with the sounds escaping my lips. He slips his fingers out of my mouth, reaching down to rub at my clit in circles fast enough to match his thrusts, and I’m hurtling towards my orgasm.

‘Close, babe? Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby, it’s gonna feel so good,’ he breathes against my ear, one hand groping my boobs whilst the other keeps a steady pace at my clit, and the mixture of all the different sensations whilst he whispers filth in my ear makes me hit my high, my mouth falling open in a silent scream before letting out a moan of his name.

My walls clamp down around him so tightly that he can’t even move, so he keeps rubbing my clit to get me through my orgasm, murmuring praise and encouragement in my ear before pressing soft kisses to my skin. When I start coming down from my high and my walls loosen around him, he pushes me down so I’m resting on my elbows, his hands gripping onto my waist. He pounds into me, chasing his own orgasm, and it washes over him within a few seconds, the sexiest moan of my name falling from his lips as he fills me up with his cum.

For a long few seconds, the quiet music and our heavy breathing are the only noises in the room, and I take a while to try and compose myself with my head resting on the carpet. ‘You okay, babe?’ Mason asks breathlessly as he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty, and I turn over to look up at him, nodding with a small smile. He grins at me, pushing my legs apart to watch his cum drip out of me, eyes trained on my face as he collects it up with two fingers and pushes It back into me. I try to say his name reprimandingly, but it comes out as a moan, and he chuckles as I push his hand away.

‘Come on. Let’s… get you cleaned up,’ he says, easily lifting me up into his arms and carrying me out of the room bridal-style. He takes me up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms, putting me down gently on the bed. He puts on a lamp and disappears into what probably is an en suite bathroom, coming back with a damp towel a few seconds later.

‘Your house… really is lovely,’ I say through a yawn as he cleans me up with the towel, wiping up all the sweat on my skin, the saliva around my mouth and the cum between my legs. ‘After what just happened, you’re thinking about my décor?’ he laughs, and I roll my eyes. ‘I mean, to be fair, my head was in your carpet, and it was very soft, so…’ I say, trying to keep a straight face but unable to hold back my giggle when he bursts out laughing.

‘Do you want some clothes? A t-shirt or a hoodie? And you can borrow some of my boxers if you want underwear,’ he offers, and I laugh. ‘I’ll sleep like this. If you don’t mind,’ I add afterwards, though the look on his face clearly shows that he really doesn’t mind at all. ‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ he grins, getting up from the bed and going into the bathroom again. I stare at the ceiling, already getting flashbacks about what just happened, feeling myself getting wet again. I’m praying he doesn’t have training early tomorrow because I need him again in the morning.

I listen to what he’s doing, hearing the tap running and then shutting off a little while later before he comes back into the room. I listen to him leave, his footsteps going down the stairs, light switches being flicked and the music being turned off before his footsteps come back up and he steps into the room. I look over, the boy grinning at me. He’s wearing new underwear and looking fresher, like he’s splashed water on his face and combed his hair. He climbs into the bed beside me, sitting with his head resting against the headboard, back on the pillow. I move to lie in the circle of his arm, my head on his chest, and I can hear his heart beating through his skin.

‘So… gonna let me take you on a date?’ he asks suddenly, and I don’t react for a few seconds. ‘Um… no way.’ ‘No?’ he asks, sounding surprised, and I sigh. ‘Nope. I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship anytime soon,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘A date doesn’t equal a relationship, y/n,’ he says, and I lift my head to look up at him, arms resting across his chest.

‘Yeah, but one date with me is all it would take for you to fall in love,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and he nods amusedly. ‘And that’s a bad thing?’ ‘Yes. I don’t have the time, patience or energy to deal with someone being in love with right now,’ I say dramatically, though we both know I’m speaking the truth, and he just nods thoughtfully.

‘Okay. If you don’t want me to love you, then at least let me… love you,’ he grins, making me laugh. ‘You mean physically instead of emotionally, right?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Yeah. Let’s turn this into a thing. No strings attached and all of that,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘What makes you think I’d wanna do this again?’ I ask jokingly, and he clutches his chest like he’s hurt. ‘Your moans and your crying made me think you’d wanna do it again,’ he says, and I cover my face in embarrassment, the boy laughing.

‘Okay, yeah. We can turn this into a thing. You just have to promise me that you’re happy with this not being serious, that you won’t let any feelings get involved.’ ‘I promise.’ ‘And promise me you won’t sleep with anyone else while we’re doing this.’ ‘I promise.’ ‘And promise m-’ ‘y/n!’ he laughs, ‘we’re gonna be friends-with-benefits. Nothing more. I promise. Okay?’ he says, and I nod amusedly, putting my head back down on his chest. He strokes my hair gently as I trace lines over his abs and, before I know it, I’m drifting off, the steady beat of his heart lulling me into sleep.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #chelsea fc

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mintmatcha · 6 months

Note

Mint, I need Lady in Waiting reader to find out that Sir Aizawa isn't married, I NEED this (I need to caress his weary face in my hands and watch his eyes slowly close as he cuddles into them, like a cat)

It’s normal for him to notice who comes and goes at these events. The vigilance is ingrained deep in every muscle, so much so that his eyes flicker to the door whenever there’s even a hint of movement.

That’s how he notices you dip out, the tails of your dress following behind.

He also notices that someone else is watching you.

“And then the dragon breathed fire. Did you know dragons could do that, mister?” the princess babbles, “That might only be in stories, though.”

Aizawa can barely mutter out a sound as he watches the other man -a squire, servicing under one of the other knights- excuses himself and heads to through door. He knows something is wrong by the way he moves. There’s too much purpose in his stride, a goal set into his brow and a smirk of his lips. It’s not the smile of a secret lovers meeting– its the sharpness of a predator hunting its prey.

“Mister Aizawa?”

Princess Eri tugs at the fabric of his shirt. The princess is especially young compared to the age of her father, only six as of this summer. Guarding her as been some of the easier years of his life, but also some of the most rewarding.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he stands, “I have to check on something.”

The young girl looks at him with wide eyes. “Will you be back soon? You promised we would dance.”

He ruffles her hair as he spins on his heel. He fears she has become his soft spot. “Before you know it, princess.”

He can’t hear your voice until his halfway down the hall and clear of the din of the banquet hall. It’s hushed, but with none of the polite lacquer you usually apply.

“I said I am retiring for the night,” you hiss.

“Perfect - then we shall head to your room.”

As Aizawa peers around the corner, he catches the blonde man reaching for you and grasping at the hem of your sleeve. You immediately rip yourself away, only for the squire to grap your other hand much more firmly.

“Sir Monoma,” you say, “If I have told you once, I have told you a hundred times. My heart belongs to another and I have no interest in you.”

The squire steps in closer, a laugh on his breath. He’s drunk enough that Aizawa can almost smell it from here. “Everyone sees how you long for the man. If he hasn’t reciprocated by now, you are waiting for nothing. You’re wasting your good years on a fool.”

Pity pangs in Aizawa’s chest. Have your affections been this obvious the whole time? He’d only just began to notice your lingering glances and hesitant touches– how long had it been obvious to everyone else? How much time had he spent missing you?

“Just one chance.” The squire tugs on your arm, trying to drag you in, but you hold firm, “I’ll treat you real nice, I swear it.”

The man twists slightly and you yelp.

Aizawa moves without thinking. It’s easy to catch a drunk man off guard. He slides in and knocks his weight off center, and in the instant of surprise, his hard snatches the squires away from yours. With a twist and a pop, the man’s arm folds behind his back and he falls to his knees, a strangled sound in his lips. It’s after, when he sees the fear in your eyes, that the anger sets in.

“If I am ever to catch you touching a maiden again I will break this arm so badly that you will never use it again, do you understand?” The words rip from his throat, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir, or course, sir,” the man spits out.

“Your charge will hear of this.” With a shove, Aizawa sends him stumbling back, “And the king. Now, be off.”

There’s a moment of hesitation.

“I said be off.”

Monoma scrambles down the hall, back towards the party. You watch, rubbing your twisted skin with a dour look and avoiding Aizawa’s gaze. He’s not one to get flustered, but suddenly he is; you smell like juniper and flowers, a summer’s day, and rolled in like a winter’s storm.

“Don’t worry. His wrist is only sprained,” he offers.

“Frankly, I think you should have broken it.”

That surprises him enough that he chuckles.

“Was that too harsh?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

“Thank you, Sir, I don’t know how to repay you-”

Aizawa had discussed moments like these, the little openings that life gives him and he keeps squandering. Hizashi always tells him to be bold and romantic, Toshinori says to be soft and himself. Both seem like bad choices- so Aizawa decides to so something different entirely.

“Give me your hand.” He holds his own out, palm up. “That is all I request.”

You check the hall with a fair amount of apprehension. “Would your wife approve?”

“I am not married.”

“You aren’t?”

“Not even close to it.” He want s to explain the mix up, but the only thing he can focus on are you hands and how they wring your dress, “You can deny me. I’d understand.”

You lift your hand and place it in his, hovering slightly above his touch. Gently, he raises it to his lips and gives it the chastest of kisses. He expects you to pull away, maybe even slap him, but you don’t. Your touch lingers, warm against his skin.

“Are you sure you are unmarried?” you whisper, “You’ll break my heart if you are lying.”

He turns your wrist and presses a firmer kiss into your pulsepoint, then another, and another, trailing up your arm.

“You can ask the king himself.”

Right before he can nestle his face into the crook of your neck, you break away.

“Then, I will,” you say, dipping away and back towards the grand hall, “I will ask right now. I don’t want you to make a dishonest woman of me, sir.”

“Don’t ask in front of the court!” Aizawa is quick to follow, a uncharacteristic blush blossoming across his cheeks.

“Because you’ll be shown to be a liar?”

“Because the king might end up begging you to take me.”

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am-i-interrupting · 2 months

Text

Baby Shark | Vox x OATSH Reader

No prior knowledge of the series required other than reader is an overlord & Vox is new to Hell.

Summary: Vox has plans, big plans, that he finally tells you. Of course, this is only after he procured a hammerhead pup.

You were curious, intrigued by what Vox had in store. All you’d gotten was a slightly cryptic phone call where he’d sounded nearly giddy, promising a surprise. If you’d meet him at his home.

You waited outside the building. Vox’s home currently wasn’t too luxurious. It was rather simple but nice. He was doing well for someone who’d only been in Hell for seven years.

He’d gone up rather quickly. He started as a commercial actor. Then he’d gotten bumped up to doing guest star roles in shows. Now he was a night show host, just like he’d been in life.

You knew he was working on things. Things he wasn’t exactly telling you. He would let you read documents over his shoulder as he worked on them in his office but would never answer your questions when you asked. He would claim that you’d figure out soon enough.

Maybe this was one of those things.

He pulled up in front of the house in an electric blue thunderbird. He got out of the car and spun around as the door closed, a big grin on his face.

“You are not ready for this,” he said as he went to the passenger side.

“What is it?” you asked as you moved behind him but he turned you around.

“Go inside,” he said. “I’ll follow you in a moment.”

Your smiled at him, a bit bemused by his behavior. It was a truly rare thing to see him look and act so excited. Still, you followed his request and pulled out your copy of his key.

Going inside you were immediately confused. There was an empty aquarium against the wall which hadn’t been there before.

What exactly was he doing?

He didn’t give you long to ponder as he came inside with a basket. It was filled with blankets. Wet blankets.

He closed the door with his foot but he didn’t let it slam like he normally would. Instead it clicked softly.

He leaned the basket so it tilted towards you. “He fell asleep on the car ride,” Vox said.

You looked down in the basket and put your hands over your mouth to stop any noise from coming out. “You got a pet shark?”

His smile expanded.

“Where are you putting it?”

“In the aquarium,” he said with a motion to the new addition.

“It’s gonna get big, Vox.”

“I know, but I’ve been doing the calculations,” he said as he gently placed the basket on his coffee table. “I also have a plan. At the rate I’m currently going though, it’s only a matter of time before I can climb the ranks to be if not as high as you then almost.

“I’ve managed to get several contracted souls—“

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“—and I am currently working on pitching several movie adaptations of your books. I hope you don’t mind that I forged your signature. Getting those green lit will bring eyes on not just you but the up and coming director who you allowed to adapt your books to film. Therefore it’ll bring eyes to other works of mine and by proxy myself. Bringing in more people who are likely to be interested in a contract for certain benefits.”

“You’ve been forging my signature?”

“Unimportant.”

“You are aware you could have just asked. Why didn’t you tell me any of this? These are big things, Vox.”

“I just wanted to surprise you,” he said.

The silent “impress you” was left just that, silent and unspoken.

You shook your head as you walked closer to him. “Well, you’ve certainly succeeded,” you told him.

You grabbed onto his jacket lapels and pulled him down into a kiss. He wrapped his hands around your waist. He tugged you closer.

A tiny little yawn sounding through the air broke your embrace. You looked down at the pup. It stretched out on the wet blankets. You acted on impulse and ran your finger down it’s smooth torso. It sniffed your hand.

“And how exactly do you expect to have the space for a fully grown shark?” you asked. “Maybe it’s a land shark but they still need a lot of water.”

“I’ve been plotting some ideas,” he said. “There is an overlord or two on that darling little list of yours, isn’t there?”

You thought of your list. Your list of people who toed the line of your moral code. There was an overlord on the list. Not yet bad enough to eliminate but getting there.

“Perhaps.”

“Why don’t you let me take care of that one, hm?”

You looked back at Vox. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“And I don’t plan on it.”

It was Vox’s turn to reach out and pet the pup. He scooped it up and looked at it with awe covering his features. He had always loved sharks.

“His name is Vark,” he said as he placed the pup on a rock that sat above the water level.

Immediately though he dove underneath the water and began stretching his fins.

“Vark,” you repeated. “As in shark or bark?”

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #one author two show hosts

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rootbeergoddess · 1 year

Text

Our Love is Enough

Summary: You’re Tengen’s fourth wife. You pass out because you haven’t been eating and Tengen finds out. Furious, he confronts and later, confronts your bullies.

~*~

You woke up with a start. How long have you been asleep? God, you were so behind on your chores. You threw the blanket off you and were about to stand up when a wave of dizziness hit you. You sat back down, holding your head. This headache was still driving you nuts. How could you do your wifely duties while your head hurt?

“Ah, I see you’re awake,”

Damnit, someone needed to put a bell on Shinobu. How long had she been in the room?

“Yes, I am. How long have I been asleep?”

“Asleep?” Shinobu cocked her head. “Y/N, you passed out. You suddenly collapsed while making dinner for your husband and your wives.”

Oh no.

Your dizzy spells had been worsening, but you managed to hide them. When you passed out, you could always tell. Why had this one been so bad? Oh, and Tengen saw it! Tengen probably went ballistic; he was so protective of his wives. Suma was also so sensitive; she hated seeing people she loved hurt. God, this was such a mess.

“Y/N, how long were you planning on not eating?” Shinobu asked.

You didn’t say anything for a second. There was no way Shinobu hadn’t realized what was going on. While she wasn’t the strongest Hashria but she was brilliant. There was no one smarter than her.

“It was only three days,” You managed to answer.

“Oh, that’s fine. You only starved your body of nutrients needed to survive and caused yourself to pass out,” Shinobu’s voice had a bite to it. “Not only did you worry Tengen and your sweet wives, but you didn’t even think of poor little Zenistu.”

Shinobu was good at making your feel guilty. Granted, she was right. Zenistu had found out about you not eating; he heard your stomach rumbling. You explained and begged him not to say anything when he asked why. The secret was probably eating him up inside. Sweet Zenistu had always been so kind to you, partly because he had an obvious crush on you. What a terrible person you were to take advantage of him.

“I—-I—-” Your voice wavered. “I was trying to lose weight so I wouldn’t embarrass Tengen and the others.”

The first tear slid down your face.

“What?” Shinobu asked.

“Look at me!” You shouted. “My body is so unappealing compared to Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru’s. I’m a fat tub of lard who doesn’t deserve four loving spouses! Tengen would be better off without me anyways!”

Tears begin to fall, and you hide your face, sobbing. All you had wanted was to be a beautiful wife to Tengen and your three wives. Now, you had failed. You had failed completely. They would never accept you back. What were you going to do? Where would you live? The idea of them rejecting you was worse than death in your eyes.

Shinbou grabbed your hair and slapped you across the face.

“That is enough! Y/N, I’ll poison you if you ever speak about yourself like this again!” She said. “How could you doubt Tengen’s love? Do you think he’s so cruel?”

“No, but—”

“While I think four wives is too many, there is no doubt in my mind that Tengen adores you,” Shinobu continued. “I remember when he came to me, asking for advice.”

“He came to you? Why?”

“He said it had been long since he courted anyone. He was nervous.”

“Nervous,” You deadpanned. “Tengen Uzui, the god of festivals, was nervous?”

“I know, I can barely believe it myself, but Tengen was enamored with you. And your wives? Oh, they were beside themselves. Didn’t you notice how Suma would always follow you around?”

The memory brought a smile to your face. Before marrying Uzui and your wives, you were a nurse at the Butterfly Mansion. When you met Uzui, you didn’t think much of his flirting. How come could someone like him be interested in a fatty like you? Then, you met Suma, Makio, and Hina. They were each beautiful in their own way, and you weren’t shocked when Tengen revealed he was married to all three of them.

What was shocking was all four of them had taken an interest in you. Suma would show up at the butterfly mansion and just trail after you. Even though she was squeamish around blood and broken bones, she never stopped following after you. Makio had been a bit more awkward, coming off as mean when she interacted with you. Your sweetness had won her over; that she what she told you. Whenever Makio showed up, you always smiled at her no matter what she said.

Hina was much more subtle, but you had caught her blushing a few times. When you asked why, she brushed it off, but eventually, you noticed her staring. You were naive at the time; you hadn’t dated much. Being a bigger woman meant a smaller dating pool. You didn’t pick up on these clues until Tengen came to you with a massive bouquet of flowers. It was filled with some of the most beautiful and unique flowers I had ever seen.

“Oh, those are beautiful, Tengen,” You said with a smile. “Shinobu will love them.”

“These aren’t for Kocho-san,” He said.

“Really? I thought they were a gift to thank you for constantly patching you,” You teased.

“It’s true; she has been a great help in keeping me in tip-top shape,” Tengen said. “But these are you for.”

That made you freeze. Was this a joke? No one had ever given you flowers. Well, your father had, but that didn’t count. You looked at him, searching for a bit of malice in his smile. No, that smile was genuine. Tengen wasn’t a person to lie; he was always honest about his desires.

“For me?” You looked at the flowers. “But wouldn’t this be something you give to some you want to court?”

“Oh, so you’re finally catching on,” Tengen handed you the flowers. “Y/N, my wives have been begging me to ask you a crucial question. It’s not a question I ask just anyone. Y/N, would you allow us the honor of courting you?”

The world had gone still at that moment. You were speechless for an eternity before you squeaked out a small ‘yes.’

“Wait, did you suggest the bouquet he gave me?” You asked Shinobu.

“I did,” Shinobu giggled. “He didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, so he decided to get that big one, full of different ones. He was nervous even then. I had to push him into the mansion to get him going.”

This news was shocking. Tengen was the most confident man you knew. No one could even come close to Tengen’s bravado. He saw himself as a god and declared he was flashy constantly. But he had been nervous about courting you? That seemed impossible. It drove people crazy, but you personally found it charming. You wished you had at least a fraction of his confidence.

Your conversation was interrupted when the door flew open. There stood your husband, panting and slightly sweaty. Oh, you were in for it. He was going to be so mad at you. He made his way toward your bed and then grabbed your face.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Um—yes?”

“There are no bruises from the fall? Did you hit your head? What about a fracture?” He turned to Shinobu. “I want you to run as many tests as you can. What if she contracted a deadly disease?”

“Um–Tengen?”

“When she fell, she fell hard! Was there any bleeding?”

“Tengen?”

“Do we need to contact any other doctors?”

“TENGEN!” You managed to shout. “Tengen, I’m fine. I just passed out.”

“Yes, because you weren’t eating,” Tengen said.

Great, he knew. Zenistu had probably told him. You winced as he gave you what was known as the ‘Husband Stare.’ He was angry.

“It’s no big deal, I just—-”

“No big deal?” Tengen repeated. “No big deal? No big deal!? You PASSED OUT! You could have been injured when you fell!”

“But I wasn’t,” You tried to interrupt.

“And do you know what starving yourself does? That is not flashy! It thins out your hair, and your complexion becomes dull. I will not allow it!”

“I just–I was trying to lose weight. I thought it’d be faster this way,” You admitted. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed by me.”

“Embarrassed? Why would I be embarrassed by you?”

“Tengen, you’re so muscular and toned, while our wives have perfect waists. All of you are so perfect, and then there is me. I’m not even close to being on your level.”

“Who says?” Tengen asked. “Wait, were those assholes in town?”

“I—wait, you know?”

“Of course, I know. The blonde hair wimp told me. He was worried about you and used his hearing to figure out someone in town had been harassing you. Beloved, I don’t care what others think. It’s their fault for not seeing how brilliant and flashy you are. I’m also hurt. Do you think I’d leave you just because you’re not skinny?”

“Tengen,” You sniffled. “I—I’m sorry, I just got scared. You’re the best thing to happen to me, and I love our wives too. I’m just always afraid of losing this wonderful life.”

“Why?” Tengen asked, caressing your face. “Suma, Hina and Makio love you. I love you. Can’t our love be enough? The rest of the world can be stupid and not see your greatness, but you never have to worry about our love.”

“Oh, Tengen!” You hugged him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean you scare you or our wives. I love you all so much!”

“Please, don’t starve yourself to fit in. You don’t have to,” Tengen squeezed you. “Let’s go home.”

“Wait,” You looked over at Shinobu. “Shinobu, I want to thank you. Not just for your help but for talking to me.”

“You’re welcome. Normally, I’d recommend you stay in bed, but I have a feeling Uzui won’t listen to me,” Shinobu sighed.

“You’d be right,” Uzui said.

Uzui picked you up effortlessly. You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I can walk!” You protested.

“The girls don’t want to be away from her,” Uzui continued. “Thank you for your help Kocho!”

“Tengen, I can walk!” You said again.

“Walking is for those who are unflashy,” He said, carrying you out of the mansion.

“Y/N, YOU’RE OKAY!”

Suma started bawling upon seeing you. The entire way back home, Uzui refused to put you down. When you entered the house, the wives all came running to greet you. Tengen put you down, and immediately, you were swarmed by the three women.

“I thought you were going to die!” Suma wailed. “You passed out, and it was so scary!”

“Stop smothering her; you’ll get snot all over her!” Makio said. “Y/N, don’t you ever do that to us again! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I’m sorry, Makio, Suma,” You said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Your stomach growled loudly, interrupting the sweet moment.

“I had a feeling you’d be hungry,” Hinatsuru chuckled. “We prepared a special dinner.”

“Would there be any tempura?” You asked, hopefully.

“Of course,” Hinatsuru said.

“Yes! I love your cooking, Hina!” You hugged her.

“Hey, where is my hug?” Suma asked.

Tengen smiled as he watched his happy wives. It was chaos, but god, did he love it. People usually enjoyed silence and stillness but not Tengen. He wanted his house to be loud, filled with laughter and love. As the girls ushered Y/N into the dining room, Tengen slipped away. He was going to join them, but he had something else he needed to attend to.

Quietly as he could, he took off towards town. He reached the local bar; outside stood Zenistu.

“Are they in there?” Tengen asked.

“Yes,” Zenistu said through gritted teeth. “Once you’re done with me, I want to a turn! Those slimeballs insult Miss Y/N’s beauty! They’re going to pay.”

Tengen chuckled; Zenistu was many things, but he didn’t take people disrespecting women. It was flashy. Zenistu entered the bar and pointed towards a rowdy group sitting at a table. Tengen nodded as he marched towards them. He stopped before the group, waiting for them to notice him. A sloppily, dull man with greasy hair looked at him, unimpressed. It took them a minute.

“Can we help you?” One of them asked.

Tengen responded with a hand around the man’s neck. Without breaking a sweat, he threw the offender over an empty table. It shattered, and bar patrons took notice. The man gasped for air but had little time to breathe as Tengen picked him up by the feet.

“Daichi!” Someone yelled. “Hey, put him down!”

Tengen turned to look at the rest of the group. The rest of them froze as he gave them a cold, heartless stare. These were the people who harassed his wife; they had no rights. He dropped Daichi and strode over to the table.

“Which one of you said it?” He asked his voice low.

“S-said what?” One of them gulped.

“Which one of you called my wife a cow?” He asked. “Don’t act like you don’t know. Y/N Uzui, she comes to town frequently, and I was told that you unflashy lot are the ones who demeaned her. So who said it?”

The rest of the table was silent, giving each other glances. Tengen’s patience was wearing thin. He took his blades on and stabbed the table.

“It was Shouji!” Daichi managed, pointing at a man in a green kimono. “He was the one who started it! He even said she looked like a whale!”

“It’s true! He even oinked at her like a pig!” Another added.

“Seriously?” Shouji said. “Okay, so I called the fatty a cow! So—”

Tengen grabbed Shouji by the neck. Shouji started gagging, but Tengen didn’t let go. Instead, he left the bar with Shouji in hand. He passed by Zenistu and merely nodded. The yellow-haired boy returned the nod and ran into the bar. He could hear the young boy screaming up a storm, defending Y/N. Shouji kept trying to breathe, but Tengen ignored him.

Using his training, he jumped up into the air and landed on a building. No, it wasn’t high enough. Looking around, he saw a tower. Ah, that was perfect. He ran towards it, never releasing his grip. Tengen jumped up and ran up the building when he got close enough. When he reached the top, he held Shouji over the edge.

“Please, please don’t drop me!” He begged.

“Oh, I’m not going to drop you,” Tengen said with a twisted grin. “But you are going to suffer. I’m also going to make something clear. Don’t you ever interact with my wife again? Don’t look at her, don’t think about her, don’t even mention her name. Got it?”

Shouji nodded. Tengen brought him away from the edge and set him down. He got a kunai and held it against the other man’s throat.

“Get undressed, now,”

Shouji complied. Once he was down to his underwear, Tengen threw rope toward the man.

“Tie your arms up,” He said. “Hurry it up.”

Once again, Shouji obeyed. Once he was tied, Tengen grabbed the rest of the rope. He tied it firmly to the railing and then grabbed Shouji. Shouji started to beg for mercy, but it fell on deaf ears. Tengen tossed Shouji over the edge and watched as the man wailed. He hung there, naked and terrified. Tengen felt satisfied and decided to head back to his wives.

“Wow, you even made ramen? Just for me?” Y/N said.

“Of course! I even added extra pork,” Hinasturu said.

“Hina, you’re the best!” Y/N said.

“Hey, what about us? We helped you know,” Makio grumbled, crossing her arms.

Y/N laughed and gave Makio a kiss on the cheek. Makio tried to hide her face, but she was apparently smiling.

“I want a kiss too!” Suma pouted. “I was the one who made the dango!”

“There is dango for dessert? Hooray!”

Y/N pulled Suma forward and showered her with kisses.

“Hey, no fair!” Makio said.

Tengen managed to sneak back into the kitchen without his wife noticing. He laughed heartily, seeing Makio and Suma fighting over Y/N’s affections. Y/N noticed Tengen, and she got up to run to him.

“You’ll miss out if you don’t come and sit! If you don’t, I’ll eat all of it!” Y/N teased.

“Now this?” Tengen tickled her chin. “This is what I like to see. I like to see my Y/N happy and silly like she normally is. No more starving yourself?”

“Nope!” She said. “Now come on, sit down!”

Tengen sat down with his wives. He smiled as he looked down at his spouse. Y/N was feeding Suma a dumpling while Hinastru cleaned something off Makio’s face. Makio was blushing, trying to avoid Hina’s look. This was his perfect little family; he’d do anything to protect them.

#Rooty Writes #Demon Slayer #Demon Slayer: Kimestu no Yaiba #Uzui Tengen #Uzui Tengen x Reader #Suma Uzui #Makio Uzui #Hinatsuru Uzui #Uzui Tengen x Suma x Makio x Hinatsuru #polyamory

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olderthannetfic · 1 month

Note

I hate to revive DNI discourse when it just ended on this blog but I often don’t think it’s as deep as people make it out to be and there’s a lot of, for lack of a better word, ~valid~ reasons someone may have a DNI. Like there’s absolutely contexts of “Kink Blogs DNI” disclaimers having an anti, swerf, etc undertone but sometimes I get it — for example I follow a couple of disability activists who post A LOT about incontinence, needing a caregiver, ETC who have stuff like “ABDL/DDLG/Devotee Blogs DNI.” Oftentimes that is not an indicator on their moral stance of those kinks, but rather them just being like “hey this is an activism-based journal where I post about incredibly personal things in regards to my own life, and while anyone has the right to read or reblog from me, if you’re clearly getting off to my medical needs or even if I get the vague impression you are, you WILL be blocked.”

Obviously that is an incredibly extreme and personal example, but I don’t think having a DNI boundary in your bio is ALWAYS a morality/discourse stance. On a much lighter note, I’m pretty active on Kpop Twitter, and there’s a lot of “RPF DNI” accounts there, and I think that’s more of a “I just want to post about my favorite band without shippers quote retweeting/replying to make it about their ship, and if you do so, I’ll block you. They’ve made public statements against these ships or about their real relationships and I am uncomfortable with people trying to dispute that.”

Oh yes there’s absolutely antis who hate RPF communities and all they stand for. But there’s also people who just straight up don’t want that on their account.

And like. As someone casually involved with RPF (i gossip about potential relationships with close friends and will reblog joke posts about it and will read it, but I’m not a writer for it and I’m definitely not someone who actually tries to speculate just how heavy the “fiction” part of an RPF ship might be), whether or not I choose to follow a person with such DNI depends on context. I keep my RPF ships/opinions off my main account, and even if I DO see a post that I would otherwise interpret as possibly shippy, I just won’t bring it up on said person’s posts, you know?

Damn this made me remember I have a DNI myself on one my accounts, 🤣 I have a minors DNI on one of my sideblogs. But I know I can’t prevent minors from seeing my posts or lying about their age or reblogging to a private sideblog or doing anything else that would go unnoticed. But once I do notice you interacting, if you’re clearly underage I’ll block you, just cuz I don’t feel comfortable with minors following my smutty fanart account even if I know minors look at smutty fanart, as someone who did look at smutty fanart as a minor. . .🎶Maybe I’m the problem it’s me. 🎶

No.

It's a stupid phrasing and no amount of validity in the criteria will make it less stupid.

No one here thinks they're always deep and meaningful. What we all say every time this comes up is that it's bad to conflate "I will block you if..." and "It is your job to research my boundaries ahead of time".

I'm not interested in people crying about how they like using an inaccurate term and everyone is supposed to understand what they mean. In practice, many people do mean that it's other people's job to enforce their boundaries for them. Validating this garbage terminology just encourages them.

It's a stupid, shitty term and we should move away from it.

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saturatedstarlight · 3 months

Text

an: heyyy long time no seeeee ✨✨✨ i wrote a lil something for the gojo girlies out there. Um idk why i’ve been on a huge gojo kick, but here i am🙄. (I love you suguru i swear🥹)

Oh this was inspired by @yuwuta ‘s little drabble it’s soo cute i loved it. ne wayss, enjoy!!

cw: teasing, penetrating, riding, fingering, reader is a switch, gojo switches, mentions of good girl/princess, and thee honored one

wc: 2744

_________________

“Don’t piss me off Satoru.”

“Wh- How is asking you— my girlfriend, a favor, pissing you off? Y-You don’t even know what i’m going to ask you yet.” Gojo follows your out of your shared bedroom, a slight whine to his velvety voice, it annoyed you how he could always get what he wants when it came to you so you decided to hold your ground, arms crossed, hip jutted as you look at him expectantly, eyebrow raised.

“Ask me.”

“My goodness, so sassy…”

“Satoru, I will hurt you.” He responds with a juvenile smile, holding his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I umm wanted you to…” his sentence finishes off with incoherent mumbling.

“What?”

“I said I wanted you to wear my glasses when we have se-sex…” a faint blush clouds his pale face, the first time you’ve seen him this red, practically ever and you put down your defenses, interest unusually piqued.

“Oh-“ a small smile adorns your youthful face and full lips, you perk up at the idea.

“I thought you were going to ask me to wear a butt plug or have a threesome with your boyfriend again…” your eyes narrow at him as you rests your arms on his shoulder, your fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his lean neck.

“Why? Are you reconsidering?” He perks up, his crystalline eyes looking up at you as he rests his head on your chest, nuzzling into your bust.

“No.” You thwack his forehead, an exasperated sigh contorting your face.

A few weeks go by and the conversation you had with your boyfriend lost from your memory. The simple fact that you were both extremely busy with work had made it easier to forget. There was one night you both decide to dedicate just to each other and while you usually give him a hard time generally about… everything, you decided to be a bit more agreeable for him tonight.

You find him spread out on the couch of your apartment, eyes closed, mask pushed up slightly on his forehead, and legs spread wide. He had just gotten back from a special grade assignment so all of his energy was spent on exercising curses.

You sit next to him, gently taking his hand, he didn’t even acknowledge you yet, breathing slow and steady as you lean against him, pouting in his direction.

“That bad huh baby?”

His voice is low and raspy, despite his exhaustion, this entire persona he was sporting did wonders for your imagination.

“J-Just a bit, but I could handle myself, it was the students that worried me.”

You toss your leg over his thigh, straddling him and leaned against him, still pouting at his discomfort. A sultry yet whiney air to your voice as you press your tits against his chest. “Anyway I can make you feel better Satoru?”

Lips finding purchase on his neck, softly nibbling and kissing him there, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge it, you frown, pulling away.

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” You blush, a deep singe to your cheeks and an even deeper pulse between your legs. He spoke with so much authority and ease, it came so naturally to him and yet… he spent most of his time pestering you by being a whiney baby.

“Ohh, so this isn’t Satoru, this is ‘the Honored One’ huh?” You pull back your body, perched right on his knee and and he finally opens his heaven like eyes, narrowing them at you.

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m noottt… okay I am.” A small giggle escapes your lips but you try to reconcile for your teasing by kissing him softly a few times. Both your lips soft and gentle as his kisses you back, finding it hard to resist your advances, no matter how many cursed demons he has to fight.

“I’ll have you know that you are dating someone with a very reputable name in the Jujutsu realm.” His voice is pouty and whiney, just how you like him.

“Yes, the honored one, sent straight from the Heavens the herald of peace and order from the Gojo Clan—

Deciding to get up, you find yourself curtsying in front of him.

—should i bow or curtsy? Which one would you prefer, my liege?” Gojo sits up, fully giving you his attention and pull you back on top of him with an eye roll. “Stop that, you know I don’t like it.” He pressed his face to your chest, words muffled and whiney again, hugging you tight.

“Ahaha baby, I’m just trying to make you feel better, you know I hate it when you come back drained and lifeless like the rest of the sorcerers and it’s bad enough they’re also all very sexy, you have to be the one who at least is fun to be around.”

“Why are you calling them sexy?” He squeezes you tighter making you giggle, resting your chin on his head and kissing his forehead you smile.

“Who said sexy? Was not me.” You meet him down at eye level, matching his cute pout.

“You asked me how I could feel better, right?”

You nod slowly, blushing as you feel his hands slide up the oversized shirt you were wearing. “Mhmm, anything.”

“Are you sure?” He smirks his finger tips finding your nipples, massaging them and squeezing them as if you belonged to him and you gasp, biting your lip and nodding slowly.

“Yeah, ngghh… wanna be good for you-“

He perks up instantly, carrying you to your shared bedroom. “Damn baby, I should pretend to be worn down more often.” His entire personality changes, he’s more confident and teasing as he lays you in bed, climbing on top of you, lips pressing up against your lower stomach, sliding up the excess fabric from your shirt up.

“You were faking it?!”

He laughs loudly, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your hips. “Yeah… and you are so gullible my cute little gullible princess, mwah mwah mwah.” He kisses your inner thighs obnoxiously, holding you in place.

“And since you said you wanna be good f’me, you have to keep your promise.” Gojo whispers, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently making you whine.

“You make it very hard for me to like you Satoru.”

“Well it’s a good thing ya love me so I’m not too worried about the liking bit-“

Gojo spoke with a certain determination, a velvet venom that had your pretty little slit throbbing for him and it pissed you off at how just a few sentences could have you a whiney, needy mess.

“Now- be a good girl, and turn around f’me baby.” You roll your eyes and does as he asks, despite him playing the weak and sickly card, you had been craving the sweet stretch and pull of his thick cock for days now.

It drove you crazy how often you thought about him cumming all over you, stuffing your abused hole to the brim and fucking his cum back inside you, the way he normally did. How he’d leave you a whiney, overstimulated mess, hole gaping and sticky and would leave you to go on missions as if it was nothing.

He frustrated you to no end, even memories of him frustrated you and that made you wanna sink on his stupid cock even more, milking him for all he’s got.

He’s leaning over you, hands rubbing you ass slowly, he pulls your thin white panties to the side, ogling your slit.

“Ah look at this beautiful ass and my beautiful-“ kiss “pussy” kiss “just waiting” kiss “to be fucked” kiss kiss kiss

Your whines are muffled into a pillow and you toss your rear back against him, his nose pushing past your folds in the best way possible. Gojo pulls away, lips sucking your entrance so mean, his hands continue spreading your cheeks apart and grants you a firm slap, making you whine even louder.

“Hey— what happened to you being my good girl?” He asks, sliding a finger inside you.

“N-No fi-fingers -toru, need you. N-need your cock…ve’been waiting all week.” Gojo lazily pumps his finger inside you, pushing it in deeper and harder with each thrust.

“Awe does my slutty little princess want me to fuck her? Hmm~”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he fingers you, your hips slightly meeting his finger tip. “Y-yes, fuck me.”

“Hmm…” he leans over your body again, wet mouth against the shell of your ear.

“How about you fuck my finger like you would my cock baby, and I’ll see if you can have it, mkay?” Your whines grow louder and hips move faster against his digit, you clench and unclench around him, dragging his finger with every clench of your sopping hole deeper inside you. Although, it wasn’t enough.

Both you and that cocky little shit knew that.

“P-please- toru, another— another finger i-“

“You what? Want another finger? But I thought you said tonight was for me?” His faux pout frustrated you more as you continue to toss you curvy little ass back on his finger.

“I thought you said you’d do anything to make me feel better.” Gojo found himself enjoying this way too much— found his pants growing tighter and tighter from your whines to your cute little ass— he found himself thanking the heavens for you every night…

And— truth be told, his week was tough, not so tough that he couldn’t handle it, more like the higher ups giving him shit tough. The mission he went on earlier this evening went smoothly. He even bought the students ice cream afterwards because it ended quite early. But you don’t get to know that.

Gojo had already sensed your doting behavior, lingering touches, and longer kisses in the morning from you so he figured he might as well try to get extra sympathy from you, especially considering you don’t give it to him often.

His ego huge enough.

But still, every glance, cute little pout you offered him, even watching you brush your teeth made him horny. And while he is a man of restraint, he just wanted to see how long this “good girl” act would last before your true nature came out.

And that was his weakness.

Your fingers yanked at the bed sheets and your bed swallowed your whines and cries for more of him and yet Gojo did nothing.

Believably so considering he was well.. Gojo. You knew he liked pushing your buttons, frustrating you to no end, he loved getting under your skin even before you two started dating saying that he loved the rush and the thrill of watching your cute little face get all worked up and annoyed whenever he came around.

…fucking sadist.

With your ass ricocheting off his fingers once more you stop, it wasn’t enough. You were fed up with him.

Slowly you slide off of him, leaning forward and you turn around, a frown on your face and malice in your eyes.

Gojo smirked, loving the dark look in your eyes, your disheveled sex hair and your clenching, dripping thighs. He found you so sexy like this.

You crawl over to him and slowly unbuckle his pants, no words having been exchanged between the both of you.

Shirt be damned, you can ogle his abs some other time, the only thing your mind was set on was his thick heavy cock, with a pink angry head, veiny base and that delicious curve you always found yourself salivating over whenever you gave him head.

(You were not giving him head by the way)

“I am never feeling sympathy for you again.” You pull him down to the bed, crawling on to his lap, aligning his thick leaky head to your begging hole.

Gojo knew not to touch you like this, he knew all you wanted was his cock, nothing more and he tossed his head back softly, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when you touched him, pumping his cock slowly, spending extra time on his tip letting your finger tips encircle that enraged frenulum some more.

“Spit.” You commanded, having him spit in the palm of your hand, saliva slowly dripping from his glossy, plump bottom lip and you rolled your eyes, you knew what he was doing.

Your small hands find their way back to his throb, pumping it slowly, if it weren’t for that incessant ache in your pussy, you would have edged the shit out of him but you decided to save that for round two.

And with a few final passes of his tip from your clit down to your entrance you sink onto him, nice and slow, your eyes nearly rolling out of your head as you do so, that familiar feeling just settling so deep within you— no words could describe how this felt.

Gojo hisses, “Fu-uck bab- baby, j-just like tha, ‘r perfect so so fuckin’ perfect for me… the tightest little thing all f’me…” he places his hands on your hips.

You both know you couldn’t handle this all on your own, so he took his chances and pushed you down even further, having you release dry laughs as he throbbed inside you.

“Hah— ah— fuck, S’toruu..” you lean your head on his chest, panting softly as you adjust, clenching and unclenching.

“Fuck baby, this is perfect, you’re so so per-“ his eyes found his signature sunglasses on the bedside table and he perched them right on your nose, biting his lip. “Now you’re perfect, now comere.” Gojo pulled you by your chin to meet his lips in a firm kiss, teeth knocking, lip biting and moans exchanged like currency. You wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you off him, slamming you back down, making you scream into his mouth again and again with every slam of your hips.

“Mm— more ‘toru more..” you meet his thrusts with abandon, both of you chasing your separate highs together, unsure of who was fucking who. Tits bouncing, skin slapping bliss was all gojo could focus on, that and the fact that he was ready to pump so much cum into you at any given moment but with all the teasing he figured he’d at least let you come on his cock first.

“Th-ats it baby, juusst like tha-“ his words short and breathy as he slides you back and forth on his cock, your clit catching his length as he moved you.

“Fu— you feel me? Feel me so deep inside you? Yeah?” You nod, unable to think, a few more thrusts away from having no thoughts at all. “Wan’ me to fill you up? Cum in this slutty little pussy? Yeah? I know you do baby.. mhmm— yeahh, use that cock baby, take whas’ yo—urs.”

Tears brim your eyes, a nice achey burn settles in your pussy, and your cunt clamp down around him with an iron grip as you cum, nails digging in his back, head buried in the crook of his neck as you let him carve more of his cock into you.

“Fu-fuckin fill me up baby, r-right now fu- please please need you…” He looks up at you, pushing the glasses up off your face, your tresses pushed back in the process, a dopey glare filling your eyes, the venomous one long gone as your orgasm fills every crevice of your brain like smoke, senses dulled and hearing shot, you cum hard around his spurting cock, which pushes deep inside you, filling you with everything that he’s got, a weeks worth of sexless nights with you. He holds you down, refusing to let you escape his thick, gloopy load as he rocks it into you deeply, body tense and stiff while he fucks it back into you.

You slowly bounce your ass on him cock, dribbles of his cum leaking on to your thighs and the sheets and it’s like this annoying yet lovable man in front of you could do no wrong. He was perfect to you, an angel.

Intimate touches and panting are shared between you both, your fingers lightly trace his chest, (he took his own shirt off) and his find your hair, softly petting you.

“Sorry for deceiving you, I just really wanted to be babied tonight.” His confession makes you smile and you snuggle closer to him.

“You always wanna be baby girl, toru.”

“Nah uh… sometimes I wanna be the honored one.” He pouts, kissing your forehead. You smile, kissing his chest softly. “I love you, dork.” You yank his ear, “Ow! What was that for?!”

“That was for the sole finger you fucked me with.” He laughs, sliding that singular finger down to your ass playfully.

“Satoru!”

#jjk men #jjk fanfiction #gojo smut #satoru x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #gojo x reader #satoru smut

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