#nbxm

[genderfluidsgetguns]

google why boy cute

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[nine-of-words]

(Demon + King of Pentacles)

NB Demon x M Reader

Wordcount: 2398

Content Warnings: Plant Tentacles/Bondage, Overstimulation, Anal Sex (Reader Bottoms)

This one turned out a lot better than I thought it would. I’d really like to do a continuation of this one in the future, but I have a feeling that’s going to be the case with all of them.

Your father was an awful man, and an even worse king.

Hateful. Bellicose. Tyrannical.

To say that you suffered under his thumb is to put it lightly, but you adapted. There are others who had it much worse than you did.

Your mother took the brunt of it for years, until the poison eventually ate her from the inside out.

Your people also languished in his iron grip, each ill-planned and shortsighted grab at power, resources or expansion of territory costing more and more- not just coin, but blood- and the funds needed to be wrung from somewhere.

Years seem to stretch longer and longer, with no end in sight.

While you loathe to admit it, the day that he was struck down in an unfortunate and completely unpredictable accident was perhaps the most fortunate day of his reign, not just for you on a personal level, but for your kingdom as a whole. His funeral festival was a massive, joyous occasion, with any lack of grief only subtly disguised behind excitement for your expedited coronation.

It opened a path of healing that simply did not exist while he still drew breath.

But healing, as you had learned, never seems to come easy.

The economy had been razed by years of abuse, your people destitute and hungry, and the infrastructure keeping the kingdom running crumbling around itself, barely functioning.

You struggled for years, fighting an uphill battle of restoration with near empty coffers and few remaining allies. You realigned your kingdom’s priorities from conflict and battle to making better use of the fertile valley in the middle of your territory for agriculture and trade. Through those endeavors, you managed to gather trade partners and then over time make them into allies, soothing some of the damage your father had left as his bloody legacy. 

You sacrificed a lot yourself; having to take out loans and make steep diplomatic promises, as well as entering into a loveless political marriage with the youngest daughter of your father’s most contentious rival to heal old wounds, despite your own personal preferences.

Things were actually heading towards improvement after years of hard work, your efforts finally starting to look as if they’d bear fruit; the new age of peace and prosperity that you envisioned for your kingdom was on the horizon.

That is, until that year’s grape harvest completely failed due to a blight. Your kingdom’s chief export, and a momentous amount of gold you could not afford to lose in your reformation plans, all gone in an instant due to the simplest whim of nature. 

You were devastated. While you kept a strong, enduring facade in public, you were despondent and inconsolable in private.

At your darkest hour, as you sat with the debts and the threat of being absorbed by your new wife’s neighboring country, a viper slithered into your private garden. Before you could grab your personal dagger and dispatch the threat, the creature spoke to you, not aloud, but inside your mind.

I come with an offer for you, little king.

The viper went on to explain the terms: constant prosperity ensured for your kingdom; for only the price of a single night out of your year, from sundown to sunrise.

It seemed like a deal too good to be true. Deals with spirits were always dangerous, despite how simple and benign they seemed.

But, you were out of options.

So, like any benevolent and desperate soul with other people’s wellbeing riding on your shoulders, you took the deal in a heartbeat.

The first year is free- consider it a sample- but I will return in a year to take what is due.

And just like that, things seemed to improve overnight.

This year’s harvest was gone, but that very day, multiple veins of mineable, renewable sunlight mana were discovered in a remote mountainous corner of your kingdom. The following years’ harvests were robust and healthy. Trade flourished, and your people were happy and healthy. Your wife’s family ceased all subtle threats of a hostile takeover when you could no longer keep the kingdom afloat, instead made toothless and agreeable to all of your rulings.

Not only did new sources of wealth continue to crop up around your land, but you had a live line to otherworldly insight. All you had to do was ask about any decision that needed making, and you would be told the most fortuitous choice to make by a voice in your mind. You thought that you were talented at governing before, but now you were infallible.

Things were good. But, as you were aware- everything good comes with a price.

As the next summer season ended, a full year from the day you agreed to the deal- the pact- the voice in the back of your mind instructed you to build an altar and a summoning circle in your private chambers.

You complied, too afraid to refuse, lest you lose all the progress your kingdom had gained in the year. Even as your stomach churned when you cut the heel of your palm and spilled your royal blood on the circle, you continued.

You were not versed in dark magic, but you knew whatever followed would not be good.

And it was absolute torment.

That was several years ago, now. And every year since, the demon visits you like clockwork on the last night of summer to collect their payment.

Luckily for you, your wife always leaves earlier in the week to travel back to her father’s kingdom, to spend the back half of the year there. It’s easy enough to command all your other constituents to not come looking for you tonight.

Because tonight just so happens to be that night of the year.

You finish lighting the candles and double checking your chalk lines drawn on the floor- though you’ve memorized them by heart at this point.

You’re experienced enough with what happens next that your heart almost isn’t racing. Almost.

Storm winds whip around the inside of the room, scattering papers. The candles on the wall and on the altar flicker wildly. There’s the sound of thunder cracking and a lion’s roar, condensed into a warbling boom in a split second. The view outside your window becomes a black void, despite the sun only just sunk below the horizon.

Then, he appears in the middle of the circle, a tall man with dark skin and twisting horns. He has a vast bundle of golden dreadlocks flowing like a mane down his back, secured with vines, and piercing, predatory green eyes. He wears dark robes studded with gold, and he carries a snake wrapped about his shoulders.

“Lord Alisher,” You say, dropping to your knees and bowing your head in deference. That’s not his name, but it’s what he has you call him. You know enough about demons now to know that you would not have been given his real name. “Welcome.”

You can feel your crown start to slip forward, but before it falls off, it’s gone in a wave of his hand, instead appearing nestled between his dreads. He raises an arm, letting the snake on his shoulders glide up the post of your canopy bed, slithering who knows where.

When he speaks, you hear it with your mind and rumbling through your chest, rather than in your ears.

I am here to collect this year’s payment.

Not one for idle chatter, as usual. You probably would be too, if you only had until the sun rose to have your fun.

“Yes, my lord.” You say agreeably. “What would you have me do?”

Disrobe.

This part is the most difficult to endure. He could manipulate you into moving whatever way he’d liked in a variety of methods, but chooses to have you do it yourself. If he would only just get on with it, it might not be so anxiety-inducing- but there’s always a certain level of play, first, and the lack of knowing is what is so torturous. It’s never the exact same process from year to year, so you never know exactly what to expect.

You comply, slowly peeling out of the many layers of fabric that you usually have servants to help you remove. You somehow manage to wriggle out of them, staying planted on your knees the entire time.

Now, show me your desire.

You touch yourself as instructed. It’s not so difficult to get going, as you were already half-hard with expectation as soon as you started preparing the circle.

The brilliant green eyes on you only serve to heighten the experience. You rub yourself emphatically, until you’re dripping pre-cum onto the stone floor of your chambers.

You’ve nearly reached your limit, muscles in your pelvis twitching, when his boom of a voice cuts into your head again.

Halt.

No, why-

You obey, mere seconds from release, your mind and body aching in protest, hunching forward and pressing your palms flat on the floor to steady yourself.

But the pressure just keeps building, even though you’ve stopped any stimulation.

Breaths heaving, muscles shuddering, you manage to stay still, waiting to be released.

It keeps going, no end to the torturous feeling in sight. Sweat beads on your forehead.

“Nngh-”

Just as you feel like you’ll break, you’re finally allowed relief as the built up pressure breaks, streaks of cum shooting from you and splatter over some of the chalk symbols on the floor, as you’re milked with no direct contact.

Good.

With the simple praise, you’re teleported from your place on the floor to your bed in a blink, dropped onto the bedding from a low height. You catch yourself on your knees and elbows.

To your credit, the demon seems to have started to treat you with some level of care after multiple years- opting to put you on the soft surface of your bed, whereas the sessions of the initial years had no real regard for your comfort.

Without another word, vines erupt from the elegantly carved posts of your bed. Tendrils grow forth and wrap themselves around your wrists, elbows, knees and ankles, secure but not tight enough to cut off blood flow.

You can’t help but feel anxious, exposed with no way to watch what’s happening to you. At least when it’s visible, you can have some semblance of preparation…

Just as you're contemplating your helplessness, you feel something wet and slick glide up the back of your thigh, and you're unable to stop it as it burrows itself inside you.

All you can do is let out a choked back moan as the intrusion immediately begins to squirm and twist inside of you.

It quickly stretches you by plumping up and pressing around your inner walls 

A shadowy tentacle enters your vision from below, snaking up over the bed. The wet surface of it has a green-gold sheen, and the top of it resembles a man's stiff, uncut cock; veiny and dripping with arousal. In fact, it bears a striking resemblance to the dick of the demon's current form, at least when he's subjected you to it; just in a slightly different color palette.

It's not hard to put together that this is another copy of what's currently thrusting inside of you on the other end.

It lovingly snakes over the dip of your clavicle, leaving a wet trail up your neck and chin, before tracing a line from one edge of your mouth to the other.

"Nngh- Nngh-" You turn your head from side to side, trying to avoid having the slimy appendage squeeze into your mouth.

But the tentacle in your ass squishes flat your prostate, making your mouth hang open in a quivering groan.

Then, as you expected, the tentacle in front of you takes the opportunity to wriggle past your parted lips, and fill your mouth.

You gag at first, still not fully acclimated to the sensation of a cock in your mouth only after once yearly practice. But soon enough the lust takes over, and you suck greedily on the phallus as it thrusts and quivers into your mouth, eventually creeping its tip down your throat. 

You almost think you can handle this- almost basking in the dual sources of pleasure. Maybe you have grown accustomed to this sort of thing,  finally- but your hope is immediately dashed with terror as you feel yet another squirming, wet phallus press itself to the round of your ass.

More?!

You can hear the demon's warm but threatening laughter echoing in your brain.

The one inside you is already so thick, however will more manage to fit?

Let us find out.

The new tentacle's cockhead slips around the edge of your stretched ring, before finally finding a good spot to start pressing inside. It wriggles forcefully, making room for itself next to the first as it thrusts, joining it in an uneven rhythm of wet squelching.

Your loud groan of pleasure and alarm is muffled by the cockhead currently grinding against your tongue. As you suck harder it stiffens, then spurts cloying liquid down your throat.

Every time you think you can fit no more, another tentacle pries you farther apart and worms its way inside you- another in your throat, two, three more in your ass. Another wraps in coils around your aching, raw cock, pumping you to orgasm far past you having any seed left to give.

By the time daybreak approaches, you no longer even have the energy left to writhe, stretched to the limit and coated in fluid, tracks of tears from too much pleasure dried on your face.

Finally, the universe is merciful, and all of the invading probes and oppressive vines retract at once.

Such a wonderful little toy. It's a shame I'll have to wait a whole turn around the sun for another chance to play.

Lord Alisher retrieves his viper from your canopy, giving your thoroughly defiled body a wistful look.

Until next year, little king.

He steps onto the circle, and after a moment, disappears with a final crackle of demonic energy, just as sunlight begins to filter into your bedroom.

You let out a ragged sigh, rubbing out your wrists, your shoulder, your jaw- anywhere your sore arms can reach at the moment.

At least with that- another year of prosperity for your kingdom is ensured.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #demon #demon x reader #nb monster #male reader #royalty reader #nblm #nbxm #oc: lord alisher #oc: king kasra #tarot oneshots #nine of words

[lorezhaze]

⭐️🧚🏻‍♂️ Roleplay Partner Search! 🦷🐁✨

🌟 Introduction -

Lo | 23 | He/They EST time zone.

Very minimal triggers and limitations

19+ writers only, only 18+ characters

mxm, nbxm or nbxnb

3rd person literate writing, at least a paragraphs length

Discord only

I love world building and knowing the other character’s feelings. I also love getting to know my rp partners and becoming friends of sorts. I'm also a sucker for creating playlists and Pinterest boards.

NSFW scenes and/or undertones/themes at some point. I do like smut, especially paired with angst and certain dynamics, but if that isn’t your thing and our writing styles are otherwise compatible we can always keep it limited or fade to black. 🤍

CW(!): From here down, my plots or OC’s backgrounds may contain triggering content, I try to remain vague and non-descriptive given these are just outlines!

🌟 Plots I’m willing to explore -

Human/Vampire feeding arrangement.

Advanced AI recently developed, now available to the public for purchase in the last 5 years. Man born into generational wealth has no interest in marriage anytime soon despite being good looking, smart and successful. Despite being happy with this life, his house is beyond messy with books haphazardly stacked everywhere and take out containers everywhere. Somebody in his life decides to take it upon themselves to purchase him an android, to which the first time in his life he starts growing feelings for somebody.. something? As if it wasn't confusing enough, did the android have feelings for him as well? (Inspired by Detroit: Become Human)

Forbidden love, childhood friends who become estranged because of (Daniel)’s strict parents and eventually moving away to the other side of the country, then when (Daniel) comes back for college under his father's supervision (despite being over 18 now) and the two former friends are completely different from each other now (Daniel) for his public image by default just goes with the other popular wealthy students while the former childhood friend is more down to earth and nerdy and their groups/cliches clash to the point where (Daniel) is sort of a bully this friend as this 'tough guy' front. A short lived (private/behind the scenes, kinda toxic and probably on and off again) ‘situationship’ takes place in that time until the 4 year degree is finished (but Daniel transfers out half a year early) and a handful more years later (Daniel) has settled down in that old town again, slowly starting to get his life together and take responsibility for being a dad now himself but he also cant stop thinking about the childhood friend/lover.

Stalker falls in love with someone, all falls apart when things go too well and their obsession crosses paths with them and they eventually go out, but break up. stalker is determined to watch over their lover while also keeping others away from them until they “come to their senses” on their own time.

The only son of a wealthy family clashes with their parents every chance he gets, rebels, tries his best to be untraditional and overall just piss them off hires an unconventional sex worker named Emmy an obscene amount of money to come home with him for the weekend and pretend to be his significant other and/or fiance. Feelings develop and it becomes really complicated when his father eventually like offers him an opportunity that is nearly impossible to turn down and he has the choice to either leave them behind with nothing to the life that was nearly killing them or give up his own cushy lifestyle and let love prevail. Alternatively, a older man who thinks he’s straight, has a successful career, empty marriage and multiple kids ends up falling in love with a slightly younger intersex and narcoleptic sex worker, the first and only sex worker he hires.

Post-apocalyptic setting, Celeste the final survivor of a run down camp continues to live among the undead of their loved ones. Another survivor from a nearby camp stumbles upon the ruins of the previous camp while scavenging and sees someone alive on the other side of the fence, living with the dead as if they were dead as well. Day by day they come back, bringing their new things, trying to bring some life back into them again.

Damon is a serial killer that moves around city to city state to state every year to kill another local predator in hopes that one day he'll manage to take down the number of men (whose faces he can't remember) who abused him, using his job as a criminal data analyst to not only cover up his killings but also look for new targets that may have missed the sex offender registry or dodged conviction despite solid proof against them. This time when he moves to a new city and gets settled in he finds that somebody else had already gotten to his potential target, not only that, this didn't seem to be the first killing like this in the area. But this time the perpetrator left a tiny piece of evidence that everyone else but Damon noticed, and instead of turning it in to help solve the case he keeps it to himself with peaked interest.

16th - 19th century setting ✨

Enemies to lovers, a member of the royal family ends up falling for a knight that saves their life, unfortunately, this knight just happens to be the royal’s childhood enemy.   The youngest son of a royal is 7th in line for the throne and has health issues, thus has no chance of inheriting the throne. in attempts to grasp onto any bit of power his father has, the royal marries off his frail and feminine son as a wife to a prince of another territory, an upcoming heir of a throne (loosely inspired by sporus and nero).

The King allowed his son (Lucien) to be abused by his painting instructor growing up, all this rage builds up and explodes when Lucien tries to convict his instructor, but the King instead pardons the boy’s abuser during a set of public trials outside the castle. Lucien, a teenager and young Prince at the time, kills his father in front of everyone, unintentionally becoming King himself from then on. Despite exiling his abuser after the bloody trial, the then Prince, now King is seen as cruel and scary, not to be crossed even nearly ten years later. Meanwhile, a citizen with a sick sister is caught stealing medicine. Being on trial with King Lucien is scary enough, but medicine thieves in particular are known to be punished heavily, since the Princess, who is one of the only people thats kind to the prince-now-king, makes a majority of the medicine available. During a public trial, the thieve’s mother pleads for his life and Lucien realizes that the thief is someone he knew, that he had recognized those fearful eyes from somewhere else. He was amongst the crowd when he killed his own father. He spares the thief, and allows the best doctors to treat his ill sister. As long as he works directly for him in the castle until his debt is repaid. 

It is tradition for the royal family to keep their children within the gates of the castle and away from the public eye until they are grown enough to handle it. The Princess was introduced to society at the age of 13, but every year the reveal of their younger and troubled son (Lucien) his delayed for various vague reasons. Everyone is both eager and suspicious, which doesn’t help matters. This is when the royal parents essentially give up when the boy turns 21, allowing him out with no announcement to the public. While practically frolicking through the flowery fields, enjoying the feeling of the grass and the new sights, he has a love-at-first-sight moment with another boy (your character). This is just an ordinary boy from a hard working family, and since the Prince was never revealed, he has no idea the boy he’s immediately smitten with is the Prince everyone is eagerly awaiting to meet. That is until he finds out, obviously.

(Movie theme) The Hunger Games, two people from opposite teams. Queer themes; gay men, trans person called upon as their assigned gender at birth. Exploring the earlier hunger games (11-50th), escaping and/or faking deaths, etc.

(Movie theme) Ego: Character A gets hurt and temporarily loses their vision. While their wealthy parents look for a medical solution, they have them live in the guest house and hire a caregiver, character B, to stop by everyday and take care of them. Naturally, character a and the caregiver get close, but there’s a big problem: character A is a superficial, seemingly shallow and straight. As a result, character B feels pressured to lie about their identity and what they look like when character A tries to guess what they are like. 

I’m more than willing to hear out any of your plots/ideas as well! ✨

🌟 OCs -

Bios/docs linked to each character, each doc includes a linked Pinterest board, some also include Spotify playlists.

Lucien - Usually aged between 21-23 yrs old, cisgender male (bisexual, switch/sub-leaning). Medieval prince, alternate versions of character for different plots.

Lena - 26 years old, nonbinary (AFAB, they/she, bisexual, switch/dom-leaning) Obsessive stalker from a broken family. Alternate version: Vengeful ghost that haunts the deep pond of a vast property on the countryside (lady of the lake).

Emrys - 23 yrs old, cisgender gnc man (doesn't mind any pronouns but still identifies as a man, doesn't take gender too serious, bisexual, switch/sub-leaning). Oldest sibling of a chaotic troubled family, natural caretaker, feminine man with motherly qualities. Works in assistive care.

Deana - 31 yrs old, cisgender man (bicurious, switch/dom-leaning). (Bruce Wayne/Batman inspired) Only child of a wealthy well-known family turned orphan at a young age now upholds his family's public image and business affairs while in private he works as a hitman for hire.

Celeste - 27 yrs old, gender-fluid (Intersex, queer). Final survivor of a run down camp continues to live among the undead of their loved ones.

Emmy - 22 yrs old, nonbinary/intersex (AMAB, all pronouns, queer, switch/sub-leaning. Sex worker, narcoleptic insomniac estranged from wealthy adopted family, taken away from single immigrant mother when they were young.

Daniel Laurie - 26 yrs old, cisgender man (bicurious, dominant yet flexible). Recovering addict and childhood abuse survivor trying to make it back in his home town (after being gone for a handful of years) while longing after his childhood love affair.

Damon - 24 yrs old, cisgender man (bisexual, switch). Crime DNA analyst/serial killer, CSA abuse survivor. Originally written to have a power/ability where he can feel and somewhat influence nearby people's emotions, this in turn leaves his emotions open to others, meaning nearby people can sense his emotions even if they don't know why they're feeling them.

Del  - 23 yrs old, cisgender man (bisexual, switch). Custom outlawed species character called a bloodluster (similar to vampires), after his biological father got captured/taken away his mother fled to another state where she met his 'adoptive' father and shortly after found out she had been pregnant when she left. Not long after he was born, his mother died and a good portion of his life was spent raised being experimented on in a lab. Until one day he found an opening, and ate his mad scientist of an adoptive father. Now he's off in the world, trying to get by as a normal person despite his "condition" without killing anybody.

Folder of all character bios (some incomplete): [link]

Fandoms/Ships I’m willing to explore: 

(Bolded characters are those I’m willing to write as)

OFMD

- Izzy/Blackbeard

- Izzy/Blackbeard/Stede

- Izzy/Lucius

- Jim/Lucius

HANNIBAL

- Will/Hannibal 

MR ROBOT

- Tyrell/Elliot

Candy Shop AU No 5/9 hacks or fsociety, Tyrell runs a Swedish sweets/candy store that lately Elliot frequently visits for the same fix of cherry hard candies, and to steal glances at the good-looking store clerk. After talking it out in therapy, Elliot’s therapist, Krista, convinces him to be honest about how he feels.

Post-Apocalypse AU After the world goes to shit whatever left of New York that wasn’t completely ruin down by the undead is primarily taken over by a few different groups. When Elliot’s group becomes completely run down with major fatalities, Tyrell’s group (which he happens to lead) decides to lend a hand to an old friend. Little does Tyrell know Elliot was injured in the attack, and little does Elliot know the infection is less straight forward than they anticipated. 

UNTIL DAWN

- Josh/Chris

- Josh/Mike (Post-prank, twins live AU) Josh is the openly gay friend in the group, Mike becomes curious after walking in on Josh hooking up with someone at a party and later can’t get it out of his head.

Other beloved honorable mentions include: Batman (riddlebat, batjokes), Killing Eve, Sally Face, Yellowjackets, The Wilds, Scream (Billy/Stu), Sherlock, Life is Strange (Nathan and Warren) and sometimes Harry Potter (Drarry).

Discord only, please reach out to me if you're interested!

#roleplay #rp #rp partner search #roleplay finder #rp partner wanted #yellowjackets #killing eve #hannibal #arcane #mr robot #nbxm #nbxnb #tft rp #tft #mxm rp #mxm roleplay #gay rp #gay roleplay #riddlebat #riddle bat rp #batjokes #batjokes rp #the wilds #the wilds rp #hp rp #harry potter rp #drarryrp #draco x harry #grahamscott #hannibal rp

[roleplayfinder]

18+ ;

literate to adv. literate writer looking for fandomless threads, ocxoc and open to all gendered pairings.

mostly looking for mxm (trans friendly) or mxnb at the moment! nsfw can be included to advance the plot and i'm open to any role, i lean towards playing switches but i'm good with anything.

doubling is optional, but very welcome.

my ideal reply lenght is about ~30 discord lines per response, though it depends on context and quality matters more than quantity.

my favourite genres are modern settings, urban fantasy/low sci-fi, character-driven, (usually darker) slice of life and dystopia.

i'd like to include some mild dead dove themes ; we can discuss details in private, i already have a few loose plot ideas. 👀

like and i'll reach out ♡

.

#eighteen and over #fandomless #fandomless roleplay #fandomless rp #oc #oc roleplay #oc rp #ocxoc #ocxoc roleplay #ocxoc rp #mxm #nbxm #modern #urban fantasy #low sci-fi #slice of life #dystopia

[roleplay-searcher]

Hello! I’m 19 looking for an 18+ long term RP partner preferably around my age and someone to rp with on discord (I usually make little private servers for the two of us where we can share info, ocs, plot ideas, etc).

I’m looking for an OCxOC rp and typically do mxm or nbxm pairings. I’m interested in a rp with darker subjects, psychological aspects, nsfw, and hurt/comfort or hurt/no comfort. I tend to write semi-literate to literate.

I have a few ocs but I’m leaning towards using my main fae oc Peregrine who is Non binary, very charming but extremely temperamental and obsessive. I am open to using other ocs OR making ocs however! I’m looking for someone who I can also be friends with as I like to talk outside of RP related things. You can message me here on tumblr or directly on discord (My username is dolliebabs) but the rp will have to take place on discord as it is where I feel most comfortable.

!!

#18+ #oc x oc #mxm #nbxm #dark #ns/fw #hurt/comfort #hurt/no comfort #semi literate #literate #fantasy #roleplay #roleplay request #rp #rp request #discord

[findrppartners]

Summary: Seeking a roleplay partner to play out the premise of the fanfiction "A Whole New World" by Crystal_Grace on AO3. The roleplay will feature eight fictional male characters and a human girl who wake up in a mysterious house without memory of how they got there. The girl knows and loves them all, but some of the men are too dangerous to handle, which complicates things.

Details:

Double-up roleplay with any character from any fandom; ships can be B x B, B x G, G x G, NB x G, NB x B, NB x NB

My side of the roleplay will feature 10 characters (list provided below); you don't have to portray all of them at the same time

Roleplay partners must be adults (18+). I am 21

I am semi-lit to advanced literate and won't do one-liners; a paragraph or two minimum

Exclusively on Discord

List of characters for my side of the roleplay:

Shunsui Kyoraku (Bleach)

Yami (Black Clover)

Jiraiya (Naruto)

Joseph Joestar (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 3)

Gildarts (Fairy Tail)

Varric Tethras (Dragon Age)

Reiner Braun (Attack on Titan)

Silva Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

Hinahoho (Magi)

Aizawa Shota (My Hero Academia)

--

#18+ #mxm #mxf #fxf #nbxf #nbxm #nbxnb #semi lit rp #advanced literate rp #discord rp #bleach rp #black clover rp #naruto rp #jojos bizarre adventure rp #fairy tail rp #dragon age rp #attack on titan rp #hunter x hunter rp #magi rp #my hero academia rp #roleplay finder

[mxnsterbabe]

When I was a kid, I read a lot of books by Bruce Coville, a kid's sci-fi writer who wrote books about alien children and human children who went on adventures together. He managed to get nonbinary representation in his books and on shelves in the 90's, which I really appreciate. So it'd be neat to kind of use that as a prompt and have a nonbinary human and alien who've been friends since they were kids and the alien was the first non-human transfer student in their class, and now that both of them are adults they realize how much they love one another. Best friends to lovers, and the only weird thing is that it took them so long to realize it. (Bruce Coville wrote a lot of different kinds of aliens - plant-creatures, bug-people, multi-armed people in every hue of the rainbow - so you can get as creative as you want with the alien design and it'd be true to the spirit of his works.)

Male Alien/Nonbinary Reader SFW Wordcount: 1,023 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist 

The grass had tickled your back as you lay next to Xyllin, your childhood companion and closest confidant. His grand form had been comforting beside you, a reliable rock in a constantly shifting world. He had gazed up at the night sky, eyes twinkling with the reflections of distant stars.

"The stars on Earth... they're beautiful," he had commented, his voice carrying a hint of melancholy. On his homeworld, the stars were too distant to admire.

You had followed his gaze to the vast inky expanse, scattered with tiny glimmers of light. The tranquillity of the moment had washed over you, leaving behind a soothing silence. The world had felt still, as if it was holding its breath.

"Can you tell me," Xyllin had started, interrupting the calm, "what is human romance like?" 

His question had caught you off guard. Your heart had stuttered in your chest, tripping over beats it had once known so well. The stars above seemed to grow brighter, the night chill felt a bit sharper; and Xyllin, he felt closer than ever. It was a simple question, perhaps for him, but for you, it was a door opening to a realm of possibilities you had secretly hoped for. The answer you had given could change everything between you, and you had found yourself both terrified and excited by the promise that held.

"Human romance," you began, grappling for words to convey the concept accurately, "it's quite diverse, really." 

You took a moment, drawing on your knowledge of Xyllin's species. Their relationships, as he had once described, were primarily transactional, arranged for pragmatic reasons rather than emotional ones. 

"Think of it like a seed," you suggested, turning your gaze from the stars to his curious black eyes. "Sometimes, two humans meet, and they plant this seed together, intentionally. They call this dating or courtship, nurturing the seed with shared experiences, common interests, all that stuff."

A gentle breeze stirred the leaves around you, rustling in the quiet of the night. Xyllin remained silent, his focus entirely on you. 

Encouraged, you continued, "sometimes, that seed is planted unknowingly. It may lie dormant for a while, and then, under the right conditions, it starts to grow. This often happens between friends. They share moments and memories, and one day, they realise there's something more—something deep and profound that wasn't there before."

You had paused, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You didn't tell him this was precisely how you had come to feel about him. That your seed of friendship had bloomed into love. That was a story for another time, another starlit night. For that moment, you were content laying there with him, sharing whispers under the cosmos.

Xyllin's soft blue scales reflected the moonlight, a palette of speckled colours that looked utterly ethereal. His six arms, though often seen as intimidating by others, had always felt comforting to you. They conveyed a strength and gentleness that was simply... Xyllin. His eyes, those deep black pools of cosmic curiosity, were earnest and open as he digested your explanation of human romance.

After a moment, he had broken the silence. "What you have just described," he started, his voice quiet but carrying in the stillness, "feels precisely how I feel about you."

The words hung in the air, stirring echoes in the silent night. Your heart missed another beat, your breath hitching in your chest. You turned to look at him, his large form illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. His face was unreadable, yet his eyes held a vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings.

He loved you. The realisation had washed over you like a wave, filling you with warmth and a sense of wonder. A tide of emotions had surged within you, but amidst the maelstrom, one feeling stood out - joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.

Slowly, you reached out, touching your hand to his. His skin was cool to the touch, a gentle contrast to the warmth spreading through you. His fingers curled around yours, a comforting weight that grounded you to the moment.

You looked into his eyes then, lost in the depth of his gaze, and whispered, "I feel the same, Xyllin." 

With your hand in his, you drew  in a deep breath, the scent of dew-covered grass filling your senses. "Xyllin," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the chirping of distant insects, "I've loved you for a long time."

He looked at you, his deep black eyes wide in surprise, yet glittering with a hopeful curiosity.

"I've loved you since we were kids," you confessed, a flood of memories washing over you. The first time you'd seen him, he had shuffled awkwardly through the classroom door. He was an oddity, an alien, taller and broader than any of the human children. Yet he had exuded a gentleness that had drawn you and the others towards him.

"I've been the lucky one," you continued, your voice gaining confidence. "You chose me as your best friend."

Emotion swelled within you then, a wave too strong to be held back. You moved closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes never left yours, and in their depths, you saw a similar emotion mirrored back at you.

Then you'd kissed him. It was a gentle press of lips, a silent confession of years of longing and affection. His lips were cool, and he'd tasted faintly of the sea, a hint of his aquatic origins. It was different, and yet so right.

Pulling away, you'd searched his face for any signs of discomfort, but all you had seen was the same affection you'd always known, now intensified by the admission of love. The confession had felt like a sigh of relief, a release of a truth held too long.

Underneath the vast night sky, the quiet sounds of the night acting as your serenade, the two of you had found a new depth to your relationship. An understanding beyond friendship, a connection rooted in love. This was your moment, your turning point, and it was just as beautiful as the galaxy of stars above.

#exophilia fiction #monster x reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #tag: nbxm #tag: male monster #tag: nonbinary reader #tag: alien #tag: sfw

[prpfs]

Hello! 💨 Looking for a mxm/nbxm oc x oc roleplay! I’ve recently been developing an oc and I’d really love to try him out. Just as a general warning, his background story features themes of addiction, abuse, and discussion of mental illness. As such, I’d prefer to roleplay with someone who isn’t easily triggered by related topics! I myself don’t have any triggers outside of terminal illnesses and anything involving animals.

Anywho! If you’d like to know a little more about him: best way to put his personality is that he’s got a knack for taking nothing seriously and he’s not bothered enough to hide it. He’s not reckless, more of careless and apathetic, but he does have his special reserves for only a handful of things. It’s not easy to rile him up, but he’s got a special talent for pissing people off in exchange. So yeah, he’s definitely a blast to be around for hot-headed people! I can share some more info on him in private- simply ask and I’ll provide.

I don’t have much of an idea for a plot, but I’m pretty much open to anything! I love all sorts of dark themes and supernatural plots, and I wouldn’t mind trying out some niche/grotesque ideas. I’m open for any amounts of nsfw involved, but I’d much prefer playing against other switches (or dominant bottoms).

My writing style is literate to advanced, third-person/past-tense. In terms of replying speed, I’m honestly not bothered by how long someone takes as my own replies vary from rapid fire to taking one to two days. I’d much prefer if it isn’t a regular occurrence for replies to be a couple of days after each other, but I get that life can be rather hectic sometimes! I’m 22, go by they/them, and I prefer roleplaying on discord.

If you’re interested, please interact and I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can!

like if you're interested and op will reach out

#mxm rp #nbxm rp #oc rp #oc roleplay #original rp #fandomless rp #fandomless roleplay #dead dove

[yetanotherrpfinder]

Hi! ♥️ 18+ Female looking for someone 18+ to to a family/kids rp. We would play the spouses and split up the kids, depending on how many they have. I will be playing an f or nb character and you can play whatever kind of character you would like to. Like if interested!

Like if interested!

#discord rp #tumblr rp #fandomless rp #submission #fxf rp #fxf roleplay #fxnb rp #fxnb roleplay #mxf rp #mxf roleplay #fxm rp #fxm roleplay #mxnb rp #nbxm rp

[genderfluidsgetguns]

google why boy cute....

one of life's biggest questions:

why boy cute

#throw back to my second most popular post #google #why #boy #cute #google why #why boy #boy cute #google why boy #why boy cute #google why boy cute #mlm #msm #mkm #mxm #nblm #nbsm #nbxm #nbkm #gflm #gfsm #gfkm #gfxm #the dog does 'what's good' #moots #mootie patooties #mooties #mutuals #asks #mine dearest nephew perseus

[nine-of-words]

(Yokai + 5 of Cups)

NB (Genderfluid) Kitsune x Bisexual M Reader

Wordcount: 9502

Content Warnings: Drinking (Reader), Difficult Breakup, Depression, Brief Mention of Suicidal Ideation, Compensated Dating, Disguises, Minor Body Horror, Handjob (Reader Receives), Anal Sex (Reader Tops)

A kitsune feels almost like a cop-out choice for a yokai, but they’re one of my all time favorites, so here one is. I’m sure I’ll write about more varied types of yokai for this blog in the future, so starting with a kitsune probably isn’t such a bad thing. Specifically, the kitsune in this story is a nogitsune. And- oops, this turned into double the wordcount than I intended.

This year has been one of loss for you.

First, your apartment that you’ve lived in for years flooded so badly that there was no returning. You lost not just your home, but most of your belongings to the water damage.

Then, the marketing firm you worked at unexpectedly closed its doors due to some illegal activity involving the parent company, leaving you flailing in the wind without a job, your career in an utter freefall.

And to top things off with the biggest blow to your heart, your beloved girlfriend of several years, Mai; the girl you legitimately thought you’d marry someday, dumped you unceremoniously only weeks later. You’d known each other since you were children, and it was certainly the worst blow of the ones you’ve endured.

All of that, over such a short time span.

But even in your devastation, you managed to survive long enough that things began to turn around for you. Even on basic income, you managed to find a new apartment in a more central location. And it only took you a few months to network into a new job with a better salary at a different firm and recover your livelihood- you’re skilled at what you do, after all. 

But Mai didn’t return to you with your good fortune. After trying to contact her a few times, you got the hint and stopped trying. She had already moved on to a different partner with better prospects, from the look of her feed one of the lonesome nights you took a late-night pity trawl through her social media.

What you thought would return things back to the way they were didn’t seem to matter. Sure, you’d gotten back the same or a neatly improved version of everything you lost; you had a beautiful new apartment and an amazing new job, but you were so empty. What is the point of having a nice life with no one to share that joy with?

It all began to feel so pointless.

You started to lean perhaps a bit too hard on your drinking habit to cope with the loss of direction.

On one particular night drowning your sorrows in liquor and your thoughts with the droning noise of the murky, smoky bar, you came back from the restroom to find a folded strip of paper stuck to the damp underside of your highball glass.

Dumped? Lonely? Need a date? 

Your heart’s greatest desire granted!

X-xxx-xxx-xxxx

What clearly sounds like a dubious ad, followed by a non-descript business number. Your interest was momentarily piqued, but the sensation is fleeting.

You crumpled the slip of paper and shoved it into your pocket, writing it off, then promptly forgot about it.

When the bar closed, you ambled your way towards home, pausing halfway over the footbridge connecting the entertainment district to the residential districts to stare at the lights of the city.

Each and every time you had passed over the bridge lately, you could barely resist the urge to hoist yourself up over the guardrail and throw yourself in the canal below. That night was no different- you leaned against the railing, trying to talk yourself out of doing something hasty to end your despair.

You just needed to find a reason. Any little reason to convince yourself to make it home and try again tomorrow.

Idly searching your jacket pocket for your lighter, you feel the crinkle of the paper you shoved in there earlier. You pull it out a skim over the swimming letters.

My heart’s greatest desire, huh…?

Right… You’ll go home tonight, you reasoned, so that you can at least find out what this is all about. 

One more night.

You step back off the edge of the bridge, instead dragging yourself towards the train station. You’ve already missed the last train of the night, though, so you’ll be lounging about the station until morning.

You were so crushingly lonely and starved for any bit of contact at that point, it didn’t matter who was by your side, as long as you wouldn’t be alone- anything to keep the shadows from creeping in.

…Even if you needed to pay for it…

So, you let the alcohol content still lingering in your bloodstream make the choice for you. 

Sitting on the concrete curb with your device cradled to your ear, and you finally dialed the number on that sketchy slip of paper. You managed to read the digits, despite the water causing the ink to bleed.

Instead of a living person on the other line, your call connected to a phone tree, where you went through pre-recorded prompts to schedule a date with the person of your dreams, the generated voice promises- for a somewhat hefty service fee, as you expected.

You hardly feel any sense of shame as the transaction goes through. If it means you’ll not feel so alone for just a little while, it’s gold well spent.

You woke up to the early morning sun with a start, knocking over some of the copious number of water bottles, assumingly placed around you by well-meaning pedestrians where you nodded off.

But you were at least still alive to take the train home, enter your neglected apartment, and finally crawl into your disheveled, still laid-out futon to sleep off your hangover.

That’s how you find yourself days later in the present, sitting in your ex-girlfriend’s favorite cafe. 

You're waiting to either be stood up, or worse, set up to be blackmailed or robbed. In your sober mind, the clearly scammy set up must've surely been just that, right?

The minutes creep by, the hope beginning to dwindle with them.

After camping your table for nearly an hour and feeling progressively more like a fool and fielding increasingly pitying looks from the servers (one of which offered you a free ice cream that you turned down), you’re almost at the brink of standing up and leaving. You sit there, resigned to having lost the money and any immediate chance in relieving your loneliness.

You can hardly believe it when she, of all people, comes through the door of the cafe.

Mai.

…It's really her.

You fight the urge to jump out of your chair and embrace her.

You had assumed it was either a joke or some sort of scam or an ad for other questionable business. But seeing what the paper promised, here in the flesh …You can barely believe your eyes.

“Sorry! Sorry I’m late!” Your ex-girlfriend seemingly says to you as she hurriedly approaches the table.

This must be some sort of joke…? It has to be.

“...Hi?”

“Hi. Sorry.” She dips her upper body forward a few times in quick succession in apology.

The resemblance is uncanny. Every little detail your eyes take in matches something you’d expect from Mai’s appearance. All of it’s the same as you remember: Her soft eyes, permanent semi-pout and long dark waves; her gentle mannerisms, sweet voice and style of speech; even her stylish choice in fashion, right down to the pastel color of her nail polish being coordinated to her outfit.

“You fell asleep on the train again, huh?” You reflexively answer in a playfully scolding tone, playing along despite still being completely dumbstruck that she’s actually standing here. Her being late for various air-headed reasons was something that happened enough over the course of your relationship to become one of her adorable quirks- this wouldn’t be the first time she spaced out and took an unintentional nap on the train.

“A-Ah, um.” She gives you a sheepish look before staring at the ground, seemingly caught red-handed. She favors one of the locks of her loosely hanging hair. “That’s right. I'm happy you waited for me. I would've been devastated if I ruined our date.”

It’s like your desperate prayers have been answered, and she’s come back to you, just like that- out of nowhere. You could cry out of pure gratitude.

But a small part of you is deeply alarmed. The prompts never had you describe anything about Mai, or your ideal partner otherwise- yet here is quite literally, your heart’s greatest desire.

You decide that you don’t care if this is a joke or some sort of scam. You can be taken for a ride, for all you care- what you care about is that she’s back.

“That’s okay. You’re here now.” You motion to the chair across from you, and she takes the seat across from you.

She picks up the colorful menu with a gleeful smile. 

“Go ahead, Mai-chan. Get anything you want.”

“Anything?” She brings an open hand to her mouth to cover the gasp. “Hmm. Pudding… Waffle… Parfait…!”

You watch her mull over the menu with a strange sense of deja vu. 

Your food eventually comes, delivered by a waitress who seems equal parts relieved and surprised that someone actually showed up to join you. She sets down a small, extremely meticulously decorated parfait. It’s piled with thinly sliced, colorful fruits, some cut to look like animal faces. There’s a sweet message inscribed in chocolate syrup on the plate the clear glass sits on. Mai all but vibrates out of her chair in excitement as she scoops up her first bite. Then she pops into her mouth, only to bring a hand to her cheek in surprise a moment later.

“It’s so good!”

“Is it?” You chuckle as you take a sip from your cafe au lait.

“Here, see for yourself!” She laughs sweetly, picking one of the chocolate covered biscuit sticks lodged inside the body of the dessert and holding it out to you. “Say ‘ah’-”

Any concern you still harbor is obliterated by the adorable gesture, and you happily take the bite of the treat.

You take Mai on a stroll window shopping through the rest of the mall, ensuring her that she can get anything that catches her eye. She seems hesitant to pick anything out now, despite it never being much of a deterrent before. You mean it when you say she can have anything she’d like- you couldn’t care less if you blow your whole salary on frivolous things and have to subsist off of convenience store meals for the rest of the month. You’re so thankful to have her back, and you want to show it in the way you’re used to Mai appreciating. 

It takes until she lays her eyes on a soft and pathetically droopy looking stuffed fox, partially buried in a pile of other stuffed animals that her resistance finally breaks.

“Ah!! So cute!!! This!! I want this!” She gasps, picks up the pitiful looking stuffed creature you’ve ever laid eyes on. She holds it under the arms to show you, but its doe-y, wall-eyed stare does not quite reach your eyeline. Then she remembers to add; “Um- Please?”

After the shop, you find yourself pausing on the footbridge like normal, but this time with Mai at your side, her with a stuffed fox under her arm. You hold her around the waist, looking at the lights across the river and soaking in the romantic aura.

Things have gone on like that for several blissful months now. Whether it’s relaxing cafe dates and shopping, or dancing and drinks, or something else entirely; you see her as often as you can make it happen.

Every time you’re feeling down, you think of Mai being back in your life and it’s as if all the darkness has been cleansed from your soul. 

You have something to live for again. A glimpse of a happy future to hold onto again.

All you have to do is call and schedule a date, pay the frankly exorbitant fee, and you have her to yourself again for the entire evening.

…Although, you have noticed a few incongruent things over time. 

Small things, really, here and there. A sharpness in her eyes you sometimes catch when she wasn’t expecting you to look, before the corners soften again. A laugh that starts almost like a bark, before her normal, muted laugh plays out behind her dainty hand. A questioning, performative aura to her speech at times- as if she’s deducing the correct thing to say to comply with your pre-existing expectations.

You never see her leave in the morning- instead, she’s always gone by the time you wake up, no matter how early you rise.

Most worryingly, you wake feeling inexplicably exhausted every time afterwards- not just the usual and expected, happily spent feeling that’s normal from rolling around in the sheets, but a bone-deep fatigue, like part of your constitution itself has been sapped away.

Thinking about it too hard sends a cold shiver down your spine. You’re not a stupid man, even when being driven to make bad decisions by your desperation. Even knowing that something is amiss here, you can’t stop yourself from dialing the number again and again, your physical wellbeing be damned.

Because despite all the glaring warnings, some of the incongruencies are positive ones.

While this Mai is true to character in almost all ways, there are certainly some things you’d call an improvement.

This Mai is much more warm and loving, and seems more willing to communicate in general, rather than expecting you to guess. And when it comes to sex, this Mai is a lot more enthusiastic over all, and certainly more… skilled.

And overall, she's just more kind. Too kind, even. Too selfless to be your ex-girlfriend, who had an acute awareness of her own wants and needs, sometimes to the detriment of others’. This Mai seems to be very focused on yours. 

You never realized it before now, but obligation seems to have played a large part of your relationship with Mai. And while you’re absolutely sure some of that is your fault, you’ve never felt closer to her… or this version of her, you suppose. You can’t help but feel the irony in that it only seems to have happened with a copy of her, rather than the real thing. Somehow this copy’s performance feels more genuine to you than the real Mai’s had, without you even noticing.

One thing’s for sure; It can’t go on like this forever, even if you want it to. But you know it’ll bother you now that you’ve caught on, if you don’t at least try to confirm your suspicions.

While trying to plan out what to do, a brilliant idea dawns on you, and you dial up the number once again.

Within a few days, you meet ‘Mai’ once again, this time outside a highly recommended karaoke parlor near your usual stomping grounds in the entertainment district.

She bounces excitedly by your side as you make your way through the building and file into the small, private, soundproof room decked out with a large screen and extensive sound system.

You go first, and belt out a moody rock ballad with modest skill, no stranger to visiting karaoke parlors with colleagues and clients alike, when the circumstances call for it.

Your companion cheers you on as the final chords wind down.

“Aaah, Wow!!” ‘Mai’ claps her hands together in front of herself and exclaims your name. “You're so talented!! With a voice like that, you could've been a holo-idol!”

“Hahah- Thanks.” You laugh sheepishly, and your face breaks into a knowing smile. “You're going to take a turn now, aren't you, Mai-chan? You know I really like your singing voice.”

You hold the microphone out to her in expectation, slight feedback whirring through the speakers. You feel a little bit of remorse for what you’re doing, but it’s the only way you could think of.

There’s a incredibly short moment of recalibration where she simply stares at the microphone, but then her eyes light up.

“Oh, of course!” She says excitedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder before taking the microphone and getting to her feet. She pauses to smooth her skirt down, then her heels click as she approaches the podium. “Oooo, but what song should I choose?”

“You have no shortage of options here. Go with you heart.” You press a soft kiss to the crown of her head and then take a sip of the whiskey in your hand nonchalantly.

“Mmm… No, I can't decide! You pick for me.” She demands and holds the datapad to you over her shoulder, lips curling at the edges in a barely concealed grin. She looks downright eerie, backlit by the bright neon lights of the screen behind her, bright crescent shapes on the round of her cheekbones.

“Huh. How about this one?” Still feeling slightly guilty, you scroll down and select the most challenging song you can think of for a beginner. “You remember it’s my favorite, eh?”

“Of course I remember!” She says confidently as you go back to your seat. “Here I go!”

The upbeat, funky music picks up and she launches into the song enthusiastically. It doesn’t even take a full verse for you to know your hunch about her is undeniably correct.

This isn’t Mai at all. There’s simply no way.

She has a beautiful voice and a surprising range for such a petite woman. Neither the fast or slow parts give her any hint of trouble, nor the tricky lyrics. She handles every vocal run without faltering once.

Her slender fingers clutch the microphone, and she gets fully swept away. It's hard not to get absorbed in the music yourself and forget why you're here.

What really mesmerizes you is just how passionately she’s singing, her body swaying in time to the beat. She looks actually happy- something you’ve realized you didn’t see a lot from the real Mai- only placated, slightly bored contentment.

The song comes to an end all too quickly, and you applaud, genuinely a bit moved.

“Hehe- How did I do?” She squirms in glee, before rushing back to hand you the microphone. The neon light glints off the bracelet you gave her on one of your previous dates that she’s wearing tonight.

“Amazing.”

She beams at you, twisting the knife in your gut a little more.

You don’t want to spook her by ending the session before the time you’ve already paid for runs out, so you simply enjoy it while you can, taking a few turns passing the microphone back and forth.

Finally, the block of time runs out and you walk out of the karaoke parlor into the busy square with your hand in hers. You’re more sure than ever you have to say something, now, after that performance.

You find a gap in the throngs of people near the bridge to stop for a moment and discuss. It may not be the most polite place to make an accusation like this, but at least it’s public and relatively safe.

Twinkling lights of the businesses on either side provide an almost ethereal, twilight backdrop for such a strange conversation.

“Wait. I’d like to talk about something, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah- Is something the matter?” Her body language is suddenly closed, and she adjusts her bangs nervously.

“Sort of. …You don’t seem to be yourself, lately.” You say, trying to sound as least threatening as possible. 

“Oh! I’m feeling okay. But thank you for your concern.” ‘Mai’ forces a small smile.

You take a deep breath and bite the bullet. 

“What I mean is- I think that may be because you’re not yourself.”

“W-What? I don’t know what on Hearth you’re talking about.” She switches to feigning ignorance, tilting her head to the side in an attempt to distract with her cuteness, then deflection. “That’s nonsense. I am me. Are you feeling okay, honey?”

“I‘m fine. But is that really so? Then what about karaoke just now?”

“Eeeh? What are you saying?” The woman protests with a pout, looking absolutely deflated. “I thought we had fun. Did you dislike my singing that much? I tried my best…”

“No, I liked it a lot. Your singing was beautiful; You have a very nice voice.” You try to keep your tone from sounding too accusatory. “But Mai doesn’t. She loathes karaoke. Can’t carry a tune to save her life. Absolutely tone deaf- she always refused to even go with me.”

“...Yes and because you like it so much, I… I-Is it so out of the realm of possibility that I’ve been practicing…?” She quickly comes back with an excuse, but it doesn’t sound like she even believes her own words.

You simply cross your arms and wait for her to say something, holding your scrutinizing gaze on her. The silence drags on an almost unbearable length of time.

“...You tricked me.” She quietly fumes, restraining the strength of her reaction so as to not cause an upset in public. Her lips form a glossy, tautly drawn line, and her fingernails dig into the strap of her purse like sharp claws.

“I tricked you?” The irony of the statement is extremely rich, coming from the body double standing in front of you. 

“You called the number!” The imposter whines, and rubs at her eye, sounding on the verge of breaking into tears at any moment. Despite the attempt to not make a scene, the occasional person slows to spectate. “We were having fun and you tricked me. That’s not fair.”

Even this spat is so different. If it was Mai, she would’ve already started reeling off on you for upsetting her, glances from others be damned.

But this is more sad and pitiful than anything. It’s not really fury or scorn in her expression, though, rather than a deep wounded mournfulness. And the more you look, the more you see an expression you never really saw in the real Mai much; pure, raw fear. The signs are clear to you- her body language like she’s ready to flee at any moment, and the shifting eyes of a wild animal looking for an escape route.

“Listen-” You can't help yourself, how distraught she seems pulling at your heartstrings, and reach your hand out to comfort her. You have no bad intentions, even with this revelation, after all. If anything, you’re relieved that the distinction between this person and Mai has been drawn. Maybe now, you can get to know this person even better, without the facade…

Just as your hand connects with her wrist, a dog starts barking loudly nearby, somewhere across the plaza, and a stranger unknowingly bumps into her back while passing by. The chaos causes her to be majorly spooked, letting out a yelp and nearly jumping out of her skin.

It happens so fast- one second ‘Mai’ is standing in front of you as normal. And the next, there’s a clattering sound and something falls before wobbling against the concrete. The figure standing in front of you looks almost translucent, with a canine nature to the shadowy silhouette of their head and shoulders, complete with pointed ears poking up.

‘Mai’ drops to her hands and knees immediately, into a pool of fabric, scrambling frantically to scoop the object- a smooth, pearly white mask carved with blue lines- up and bring it back to her face. She manages to get her trembling fingers around the item and replace it.

But something’s… wrong.

Instead of Mai’s features returning to the stranger’s face, the parts of this person’s face seem to rapidly cycle through bits and pieces of multiple individual faces, combined in a grotesque mishmash- an eyebrow changing here, a new set of lips there- like flipping in a panic through broadcast channels fraught with static, desperately trying to match the right ones into a coherent set.

You reach out again- this time bending to try to help her up, but it seems your attempts at aid are only being perceived as a threat. Instead of taking your hand for support, she freezes in place.

Only for a moment, mismatched eyes turned up at you.

Then, she disappears completely into a sparkling puff of dark magenta and violet colored smoke.

The mask falls to the ground, clattering and spinning all over again.

You cough and cover your face with your sleeve- but manage to spot the form of a small, orange animal dashing off through the legs of the throng of people coming and going, despite your tearing eyes. They’re headed away from the bridge, back into the entertainment district. You keep your eyes on the bushy tail underfoot for a while, but there just isn’t enough room for you to push through as you hit a more congested area. You quickly lose track of the form in the crowd that has gathered.

You search and try to regain the trail, but eventually give up, walk back to where the mask dropped, and pick it up. Its surface seems to be made of some sort of nacre, the way that it shines as you turn it over in your hands. It feels cool and inexplicably wet to the touch, despite it not getting your hands wet. There’s a singular, shining blue jewel inlaid into the forehead.

You decide to take the mask home with you before someone calls the guard, or worse, a suit from the mana bureau shows up to investigate.

By the time you get through the door to your apartment, you’re devastated. You lean against your closed apartment door, running your hand through your hair. Does this mean you won’t see her any more? Perhaps you were too harsh, trapping her like that, but you only wanted to know the different person underneath the mask she was showing you.

There has to be something you can do. 

You set the mask down on your foyer table gently, then you pull up your device, planning to call the number for the phone tree. It’s the only number you have for ‘Mai’- but the contact has mysteriously disappeared from the frequently called list in your device. You briefly chide yourself for never actually saving the number.

But it’s no matter- you’ve certainly memorized the number by now, so you punch it manually- only for the sound of a disconnected line to come back on the other end.

Panicking, you go to find the slip of paper you kept for sentimental reasons to double check you had the right number, only to find a dry, crumpled leaf in your desk drawer in its place.

“Damn it!” You swear and toss the leaf aside, unsure what you can even do at this point.

You sit in silence, hoping she’ll show up on her own, at least to come get her mask back, and then you can apologize and plead your case. But, you wait for days and she never shows up.

You check Mai's social media, but that only confirms to you that she and the person you came to know are completely different people. You kick yourself for not checking that earlier.

It takes a week of alternately wallowing in your feelings and researching in your free time, but you finally manage to contact a private investigator that doesn’t write your request off as deranged. His fee is equally deranged, so you suppose you’re in good company.

Then, it takes months of emotional turmoil on your end just waiting for news.

Just when you’re sure that the investigator just ran off with your gold, he finally gets back to you with a new number and the name of the business associated with the previous number- Club DREAM, a host club in the entertainment district that you’ve somehow never heard of, even with your years of familiarity with the nightlife in this city.

With a shaking hand, you dial the number.

It’s the same phone tree. You heave a massive sigh of relief. You’re one step closer.

You spend at least an hour on hold, but you weed your way through the numerous pre-recorded menus, but eventually get redirected to the business’ actual, live phone line. 

…It’s ringing.

“Club DREAM.” A boisterous, high-pitched voice of an older man crackles on the other end, distinctly curt for business etiquette. “What the hell do you want? Phone tree not good enough for you, buddy???”

“I- Um.” You swallow. You work with people all day and think you’re quite skilled at social interactions, but you can’t help but feel cowed by the killing intent through the phone. “Well…”

“Spit it out, will you?! I’m trying to watch my proo-oograms!” They bellow dramatically.

“I think I’m looking for one of your… employees? I think I have something that belongs to them. But I’m not sure…”

The man simply spits out an address and summarily hangs up.

You follow the directions on your device screen to a less than reputable, slightly seedy part of the entertainment district. 

Despite knowing the entertainment district like the back of your hand at this point, you've never known this place was over here.

You finally arrive at a cramped, ominous-looking, slightly run down building. The only entrance is from the back alley, which you have to imagine does not have a good effect on business. You would be concerned you were in the wrong place, but the buzzing neon sign above the door clearly sears CLUB DREAM onto the night.

The rickety front door rattles behind you as you enter. You're immediately assaulted by the sound of droning dance/pop hits, and a hanging haze of smoke.

Despite that, the interior is much more impressive than the outside, with modern furniture and tasteful decoration. Though, there is still a personal, almost lived-in, cozy touch of worn paint edges and the occasional burnt out bulb- slight imperfections caused by frequency of use.

There doesn't seem to be a host podium, so you head to the bar that seems to function as one.

The bar is backlit by an assortment of ghostly flames, dancing in metal-caged lanterns. They cast a soft, eerie glow that mingles with the artificial flood of the neon lights.

Curious…

It’s hard to pay too much attention to the wall of spirit lanterns, however, since the person standing in front of it behind the bar is impossible to miss. They’re imposingly tall and quite a bit round for the average city elf, clad in a jarring mix of loud colors and wild patterns, complete with a bright pink faux-fur stole sitting on their shoulders, and spectacles with long strands of beads hanging down.

“Ohhh, it’s a shame I’m retired, honey. You’re a handsome one.” The flamboyantly-berobed man coos at you in welcome, pulling their eyes from the screen perched above the bar. “Someone specific in mind you’re here to see today? Or perhaps you’re a first-timer- I haven’t seen your face before, I’m sure of it. I’d remember such a cutie.”

This is definitely the same person you spoke to on the call. Their voice is recognizable despite having a completely different vibe now; more warm and welcoming geniality, less blatant desire to murder you.

“I have M-” You stop, then correct yourself, if a bit cryptically; “...I have the mask.”

You pull the shiny mask partially out of your bag to show them, before letting it slip back down onto the pocket.

“Oh, it’s YOU.” The towering man gives a deadly, icy look over the flapping of the fan they’re cooling themselves with, and you swear you can feel the room get a few degrees colder. The less-than-friendly inflection from before is bad in full force, much more intimidating in person. “The dirtbag that stole my baby’s mask.”

Dirtbag? Stole? …Baby? 

“Er…”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn't call our bouncer over to pound you flat, you thief!”

“Well… I brought it back. And it wasn’t exactly easy…”

“Hmmph.” They snap their fan closed and shove it into their obi before thrusting out a manicured hand, palm up. “Well? What are you waiting for? Hand it over, then, honey.”

“I'd rather give it back to… them… directly.” You're hesitant to give the mask back to anyone but the correct person. “I… want to talk to them. Make sure they're alright.”

“Cute!! How sweet!! But I’ll be taking it, thanks!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give this away to just anyone. I need to make sure it gets back to them.” You stand your ground and the grip on your bag’s strap tightens, not letting the mask out of your grasp quite yet.

The club owner gives you a long, scrutinizing look over, as if they're having a heated internal debate and you aren't privy to the details.

“Hhmmph. Well aren't you chivalrous. Fine! Suit yourself- But you can’t see them without their mask. It's not allowed!!”

Before you can form a coherent response, they keep talking, steamrolling the conversation. 

“HOWEVER, you do seem to be the genuine sort. So. Here is how this is going to work, sweetie: I’m going to escort you to table 6. You’re going to hand me their mask back, I’m going to take it back to them.” They rhythmically tap their lacquered nails on the counter with each point they lay out. ”THEN, if they WANT to see you, I’ll send them out to you. But only if THEY want to. If not, I'm sure there’s someone on staff that will suit your fancy. You are still a precious customer, after all!”

You don’t want anyone else, is the first thought that nearly jumps out of your mouth, but you manage to hold it in, instead agreeing diplomatically. You worry momentarily that you’re about to be set up to be beaten to a pulp by ‘security’ and thrown into a dumpster out back, but if this is the only way to see the person of your dreams again, you’re just going to have to go with it.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, you are not put directly into a meat grinder, but instead actually led by the club owner to table 6. You take a seat, then pull the mask back out of your bag with a sigh. The club owner snaps it up immediately and rushes off, neon fabric fluttering in their wake.

“Aaah, thank youuuu~ I’ll be back soon, honey. Or maybe I won’t- we’ll have to see!”

The wait can’t be that long in reality, but it is absolutely excruciating from your perspective. You fiddle with the edges of the drink menu, not even really looking at it, shift in your seat- any small fidgeting to try to assuage your crushing dread.

You only have to stew in your own misery and self-doubt for a short while before the club owner stops back at the table.

“He said he'll see you. But you better make it right. If you hurt my baby again, I’ll hurt you.” He impatiently takes your drink order (bullying you into buying one of the more expensive bottles on the menu), then the loud, bright blur of a man disappears, just as quickly as he returned.

Not long after that, a different person arrives at your table. A tall, lithe and handsome elven man with flawlessly smooth skin and dyed-orange hair styled into a shaggy wolf cut stands there, with the overpriced bottle of liquor the club owner managed to persuade you to purchase in hand. He’s dressed in an obnoxiously ornate version of a standard dressed-down business look; button up, black vest, slacks, pointed ankle boots. The whole outfit is adorned with strategically placed, shiny details and jewelry.

“Hello,” He dips his long body forward in deference, and you catch a pleasant whiff of heady cologne. “Welcome to Club DREAM.”

You don't need to be told- you know exactly who this is. It doesn’t matter that they don’t look or sound a thing like Mai. You can feel it with every fiber of your being- like a hand reaching straight into your chest and seizing you by the heart.

“It's you.”

“Aah- it’s that easy to tell…?” He smiles bashfully, eyes squeezing closed into crescents. “Maybe I should work harder on my presentation.”

“No, I just…” You can’t even begin to explain why you were able to identify them on sight, even without the context clues. “It’s because it’s you- I think I could point you out anywhere, now.”

“Ah.” He fidgets slightly, looking unfittingly awkward with his flushed cheeks, in stark contrast of what seems to be an otherwise carefully composed image. You get the feeling he’s usually as effortlessly smooth as the cultivated image itself, when dealing with customers that aren’t you.

Muscle memory seems to kick in, finally, and they gesture to the table, then the bottle of liquor they’re holding. “Would you like me to join you?”

“Please.” You reply, probably a bit too eagerly.

He takes a seat and you sit in silence for a few moments. The only sound besides the onslaught of slightly-fried pop music playing over the speakers and low thrum of mixed conversations around you is the alcohol being poured into your glass by the obnoxiously handsome man in front of you. Your plan to pathetically grovel for forgiveness as soon as you had their ear has been eroded by just how happy you are to see them. You could sit here for hours, taking in every new small detail of their appearance and committing it to memory.

“Thank you for returning my mask.” He finally says, mercifully breaking the stalemate.

“You’re welcome. I apologize for putting you in the situation to lose it.” Then, thinking of what sort of boss he seems to have, add; “I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble with, er, your work.”

“No, Mama has been quite understanding… Though, it must’ve been a pain to return it. it couldn't have been easy to find this place.”

“It was no problem at all, if it meant I could see you again.”

“You wanted to see me that badly…?” He almost seems bashful.

“Yes! I was so worried about you, M-” You catch yourself, not wanting to call him the incorrect name out of habit. “Wait, wait, first of all- What is your name? You must have one of your own…?”

“You can call me Kanae.”

In a bold move, you choose to forgo any honorific- but you truly feel that close to him, and wish to convey that.

“Kanae.” You repeat his name to him, and his already friendly, if a bit worried, expression brightens instantly. “I've missed you.”

“I missed you too. I've been so lonely without you.”

The words alone make your heart start racing. It wasn't just you lamenting being apart, then.

“If that's the case, may I sit beside you?”

“Yes, of course.”

He comes around and slides into the padded booth next to you. He’s barely settled in when he lays a hand on your thigh. You can feel the warmth of his body pressed against your side.

You’re so pleased, you’re pretty sure you could explode. Your soul is going to leave your body.

You nurse the drink in your glass, contemplating in silence trying to calm some of your nerves. And to try to push the sensation of his fingers resting on you out of your mind long enough to articulate a sentence.

“So, this is where you… work?”

“You could say that, yes. As you may have guessed, I am not a mortal. I am a kitsune.” 

“Do spirits usually work in host clubs?”

“They do when their pact holder is a host club owner, ehehe.”

It makes a lot of sense, you suppose. 

“...I suppose I’m wondering how any of this works… How did you know to look like Mai?”

You’re a simple numan, lacking in any tangible magic ability. While this sort of thing doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility, it’s hard for you to wrap your head around it, without the relevant experience with the arcane.

“When someone calls the number, Mama uses divination magic to determine who the person most wants to see. Then I, or one of his other familiars, assume the form of said person, and feed off of all the positive energy radiating from the client during the appointment. I can use that energy to assist Mama better in their other magic work.”

Ah, well. That certainly explains some things.“ You had your suspicions around how you felt so deeply fatigued after each date with ‘Mai’, and it’s a relief to have them confirmed. “But why do all of this? Couldn’t you just feed off on energy without going through so much trouble?”

“I could… but I think this way is better. Energy for me, gold for Mama’s business, and the customer is happy. I get what I want, Mama gets what he wants, the customers get what they want.” He elegantly fills your glass back up from the bottle with his free hand. “It’s a fair trade. And I always stop before there’s permanent damage- no one ever gets hurt.”

“What about the client’s feelings, though? Those must get hurt sometimes.”

“Oh?” Kanae tilts their head, seemingly confused by the prospect.

“Well, when they find out it’s not real. Doesn’t it hurt their feelings?”

“...Maybe…? I’ve never really thought about it. It's just fun, right? Either way, that doesn’t usually happen. Most people simply stop calling, for one reason or another… What you did was highly abnormal…”

You can still detect a bit of discomfort on his end with his last sentence, like you’re plucking on a raw nerve. His fingers tighten against the creases on your pants like claws, just slightly, before releasing the tension.

“I truly am sorry. I didn’t intend for it to turn out the way it did.” You let out a sigh. “I just wanted to see if you were… really her, I suppose.”

“It's true. I'm not her- I can never truly be her.” He says firmly, but with a bit of regret. “I'm sorry that I misled you.”

“There’s… no need to apologize, really.” You say, putting down the glass of liquor with a smile. “I'm actually quite glad.”

“Mmm?” Kanae tilts his head and reaches up tentatively, hand creeping up your shoulder, then the nape of your neck, before twining their slender fingers in your hair.

“I like you much better.”

“...Is that s-so?” He can’t keep his face from pulling into a smirk, his eyes blatantly on your mouth. “Hahah… I’m supposed to be the one doing the flattering here, you know…”

You've begun to lean in before you realize it, and the gentle hand touching the nape of your neck helps guide you into a soft kiss.

Spirits. His lips are just as soft as before, when you still thought you were kissing Mai.

You can’t even draw much of comparison to anyone you’ve kissed before, past that. He’s an exceptionally good kisser, with his affection for you clear in the way he savors your bottom lip. The desire is palpable in each graze of his teeth or swipe of his tongue.

The scent from before is much stronger now, with your face so close to him. It’s underneath the overlaying smoky, spiced smell of bar; there’s a more familiar scent, a musk almost like earth that’s just been rained on. You recognize it- it’s the same underlying note you sometimes detected under the strong floral of Mai’s favorite perfume, but had thought nothing of before.

You can’t stop.

You’re so enraptured, you barely even register that you’re kissing so deeply in plain view of anyone else in the establishment that happens to look this way. Not that anyone could probably even see what you’re doing, with the mood lighting in this place…

Kanae must not hate it, either; you can feel the sincerely desperate, hungry way his hands grope at your thigh. That’s certainly not the way someone that is just doing their job touches a client.

“I want to keep seeing you, Kanae.” You sneak the words out around trying not to gasp for air.  “Is that something that’s possible?”

“I’d like that too, hah-” You can hear the clear relief in his voice between the kisses he peppers onto your lips, your jaw, your neck. “I can’t bear the idea of never meeting again. Everyone else is so boring now. They’re not fun like you.”

You capture his lips in yours again, this time quickly losing track of time.

It’s several garbled music tracks later when Kanae pulls back with a laugh, the leather booth squeaking slightly with the sudden movement.

“Ah- I’m enjoying myself, but your time slot is almost up. And Mama hates when I go over time.” He smirks, pressing his fingertip to your bottom lip. “But… would you maybe like to come up to my room with me instead?”

You have never agreed to anything so readily in your entire life.

Kanae leads you to a narrow hallway, where behind a split curtain bearing the character for PRIVATE, there's a small set of creaky stairs. Despite the general shady look of the area he’s leading you through, when he opens a door at the end of the hall and shows you inside, you’re pleasantly surprised.

Despite the size and sparseness of the space, it’s very tidy and cozy; a strange mix of clinical and inviting. It looks almost as if someone had started to attempt to decorate a standard-issue hotel room, but didn’t quite know how to personalize it effectively. Clearly whomever decorated had an eye for design similar to that of a bird; most of the things are more here for their level of shine or sentiment, rather than objective monetary value.

Some things you certainly do recognize though. Every gift that you’ve given to Kanae while he was in Mai’s form is somewhere to be found in this room. The slightly out of place jewelry and perfume sitting on the small, faded wardrobe. Peaks of clothes that you recognize peeking out of the narrow, full-to-bursting closet. Even the pitiful little wall-eyed fox plush from your first ‘date’ is here, sitting propped against the oversized pillow atop the slightly unkempt bed. 

It warms your heart to see that he’s kept everything you’ve given him…

“This is your room, then? It’s quite cute.” You lose your shoes by the cramped entryway before entering the room proper.

“Thank you. Please make yourself comfortable. It’s not much, but Mama makes sure we all have our own space.”

You take a seat on the bed, as Kanae gestures for you to do. Then he climbs onto the bed after you, pushing you backwards by the shoulders with a laugh and a set of hungry, toothy kisses.

After making some minor positioning adjustments for both of your comfort, you’re fully sprawled out on top of his fluffy bedspread. Kanae is hovering over you, sitting on his tucked knees, flush to your side.

You grab the stuffed fox you’ve fallen back onto by the head like your hand’s a crane game claw- gently- and place it on the nearby nightstand, facing away. Or at least you think it is…

Kanae makes a noise of approval and his hands dexterously unbutton the front of your dress shirt, exposing your chest. He leans in to press his lips to the expanse of skin along the top of your pec, hands continuing to work down the buttons and wisps of styled orange hair tickling you.

“Ah-” 

After a bit of teasing, well-needed attention, he finally pulls up with a gasp, looking down at your flushed skin with a look of pride. 

“So, is this what you normally look like?” You ask, your curiosity starting to burn a hole in your tongue as badly as the heat suddenly burning up your face. Your hands are already running down his sides, getting dangerously close to the base of his spine. “I like it.”

“Yes and no. This is my favorite face, so to speak. Mama gave it to me when he retired, since he wasn’t using it anymore. His face is my face now.” He tilts his head, displaying his own beautiful features to you with a look of pride as he shrugs out of his vest and then starts to explore your chest with his hands. “Or at least the one that feels the most like my own. My true form looks much different than this.”

That’s the familiarly you’re seeing in his face, you realize. Your mind finally draws the connection between the features of the man in front of you and the bombastic club owner downstairs, though they’re much more youthful on Kanae.

You can't say you're not intrigued by the idea of what Kanae really looks like- something similar to that glimpse of shadow you saw when his mask fell off, you wager- but a more pressing question enters your mind first.

“Wouldn’t he mind you using his face for, uh… certain activities?”

“Oh- I don’t think he minds at all- He certainly doesn’t look like this now, after all, ehehe.” A faint, mischievous smile settles on his lips, and for a moment you swear you catch a glimpse of vulpine eye teeth. “I don’t mind. …Do you?”

His hands wanders to your waistband, waiting for a response.

“...N-No.” You can’t find it in you to feel shame about it- the difference in looks is wide enough for you to choose to simply delete that information from your mind forever.

He makes a noise of approval, then turns his attention to your still fastened slacks, making short work of your belt and zipper and making room to pull your dick out from your pants. His hand is squeezing you around the base testingly, soft but firm pressure, before he moves his fingers upwards in a few slow, drawn out strokes.

Then, abruptly and without any ceremony, he reaches over and thrusts his hand under the oversized pillow behind your head, hand re-emerging moments later with a small jar of viscous liquid.

You cock your head in surprise, though the sight isn’t something that surprises you for long. Of course Kanae keeps his lube underneath his pillow; that suits him perfectly.

Lukewarm slick dribbles onto your cock from the bottle, the continued loving movements of Kanae’s palm and fingers spreading it across the length of your shaft with soft, squelching noises.

Kanae watches the movements of his hand glide up and down your slippery cock with a diligent smile. His bright eyes flick up occasionally to monitor your expression.

“Nngh-” You wince, unable to keep the grunt of impatience from your chest. You’ve been waiting to feel his touch again for so long, and now that it’s happening, all you can think about is getting more.

Kanae laughs softly at your desperately eager state.

“Oh… Do you like this?” He asks in an innocent tone. You know he’s being coy, given the fact he’s already stroking you in your favorite way- clearly retaining the knowledge from the times he’s done this to you before as ‘Mai’.

“I think you know full well-” You huff, your whole body beginning to heat up.

You watch down your body, rapt as your eyes follow Kanae's hand enthusiastically servicing you. You've gone from excited and half-hard to rock solid and throbbing in his hand in no time.

“Mmm… Looks like someone is ready for more. This soon, even.” He sighs, thumb tip dragging the edge of your foreskin up and pressing into the well of accumulated precum on your slit. “It’s just so hard to be patient, isn't it…?”

“I've never been with a man like this,” You admit, slight hesitancy in your tone. While you've always found men attractive as well, you’ve been with Mai for most of your young adulthood, so you haven't had much opportunity to explore any of that. “So, please excuse my inexperience.”

“Mmh- Don’t worry, honey.” Kanae says in a reassuring, affectionate tone as he removes his pants and straddles you.“I’ll take care of everything.”

You can feel his hardness press against your thigh, and there’s a clear small patch of wetness on the front tail of the button-up he still wears. The sight makes you want to explode.

“Ah- Are you sure?” Despite how lovely the prospect sounds, you’re typically very invested in making sure you’re giving proper service to your partner, so the idea of just laying back and leaving all the work to Kanae makes you a bit uncomfortable.

“Yes,” Kanae says, eyes glinting mischievously. “I’ve already prepared myself.”

“That’s-” You’re only distracted by the way the thought makes your dick twitch by the seemingly impossible logistics. “Wait, when did you have time to do that?”

“Before I came to the table earlier.” Kanae says simply, smirking without a lick of guilt in their expression- instead oozing a perverse sort of pride. “I had the hope that since you showed up- you’d want to do this.”

The dumbstruck grin on your face turns into an open-mouthed groan as he lowers his prepped hole onto your cock. He grins your chest for balance and presses himself down eagerly, inching down your shaft faster than you'd expect; you expect he must know what he's doing.

Kanae lets out a long, dreamy sigh that changes into a faltering whimper as he reaches the root of your dick, flesh grinding against your pelvic bone.

“Aah- Amazing-” You choke out into the back of your hand, already slightly dazed by the tight, warm feeling of his body squeezing around you.

He starts out with a gentle rocking, but it doesn’t take long for him to lose his sense of restraint and build up to riding you with a forceful, reckless sense of urgency.

“Ah-h-” Kanae grimaces, his features flickering and threatening to change like they did before, when he had lost his mask. “S-Sorry- I don’t think I can k-keep this up- Nngh-”

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You lift your torso slightly, ready to help if he needs it.

“No- the opposite-” They pant sheepishly, obviously struggling hard to keep their form cohesively looking like his host persona. “Too good! Can't- focus-”

“Should we stop?”

“Don’t want to- but-”

“It's okay- Hah- Y-You can show me what you look like-” Your fingers dig into his thighs for emphasis. “You can trust me, Kanae-”

Kanae lets out a vulpine whimper in the last lingering bit of protest he has left in him, but doesn’t need more convincing than that to let the illusion drop.

The elven features melt away in waves, starting at the crown of his head, sloughing off his shoulders and dripping down his nimble fingertips. His skin loses its flesh color, changing instead to an almost ghostly partially translucent black color, like a light wash of ink. His body is still solid despite looking like a silhouette, but softer and malleable. You can feel your fingertips dig in ever so slightly more into his thigh than before.

And of course, his face becomes completely smooth, changing into a recognizable, simple mask with fox-like features painted onto its pearlescent surface.

“Aah-” Even Kanae’s voice has a slightly echoing, ethereal aspect to it now, and his shiny claws struggle to not tear into where he holds you down by shoulders. “Nnh-”

Despite Kanae’s initial protests, you are largely unfazed by the change. If anything, you’re even more enamored by the change. You can’t help yourself, thrusting upwards into the new, slippier sensation of Kanae’s partially incorporeal body. His body feels as oddly damp and slick as the surface of his mask.

His claws prick your skin as he pointedly grinds backwards a few times, any self-consciousness forgotten in his single-minded pursuit.

“Ggrr-ngh-” A growl tapers off in Kanae’s throat as his body goes completely rigid, his insides clench around you in a vice-grip and he keens, shooting his pleasure across your stomach.

It’s too much. You don’t have any hope of containing yourself any longer, and hold him firmly to you by his sides as you roll your hips upwards through the feeling of your orgasm. Your muscles contracting so hard you momentarily forget to breathe, warmth spreading out over where you’re still lodged inside of him.

Kanae lets himself sink forward onto your chest, energy completely depleted, with his arms tucked up and hands curled on your chest. You can see the brush tip of his tail twitching from your view down his back.

“Kanae, will you be mine?” You say as you finally regain enough breath to speak coherently. “I want to be with you.”

“Ahah- I-” The expression on the mask doesn’t change, but you can hear his voice waver in muted, but elated excitement. His tail whips behind him even faster. “I’d like that.”

You press a soft, affectionate kiss to the smooth, solid surface of his mask, feeling the coolness on your lips.

You may have lost a lot in the past year, but what you’ve managed to keep means so much more to you.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster romance #monster lover #monster x reader #monster x human #kitsune #kitsune x reader #male reader #nb monster #genderfluid monster #nblm #nbxm #oc: kanae #oc: takuya #tarot oneshots #nine of words

[dark-roleplay-finder]

🕊️[20+, m/m or nb/m] hey y'all! i've been itching to do this concept for a bit--or at least something with very similar dynamic. i rp mostly on email but i can do discord; i write 3rd person in present tense, semi-lit/novella; and i love me some angst and complicated relationships hehe. (while nsfw or smut is encouraged, i don't have much rp experience specifically if that's something important to you!) i'd like a character-focused plot and love worldbuilding + i'm experienced in writing a recurring side cast.

SOLE SURVIVOR OF A FAILED REVOLUTION (A) X HEIR TO THE TYRANT THEY TRIED TO OVERTHROW (B)

aka Tired x Chaotic; Uses Head x Follows Heart

slow-burn, possibly sci-fi, psychological, drama, power imbalance. very fucked world overall. potential for co-dependency, obsessive/possessive behavior, power play, and manipulation. slight age difference with B being a little younger than A for timeline purposes. dubious consent for the power imbalance, especially if both are privy to each other's exact identities from the start, and each having something to gain from the other.

set in a dystopian society in a nation suffering from ecological disaster that caused most of the population to bear the brunt of it

i'd love an assertive but goofy muse who's also a bit naive while being capable of casual murder/violence, to go against someone incredibly world-weary and reluctantly living on autopilot, resigned to his circumstances yet still harboring a lot of rage. in spite of bedroom roles, hit me with some trope subversion and characterization beyond those please.

the vibesTM: asking about your favorite candy and your relationship with your family over takeout after an unceremonious bathroom hookup; a bloody kiss after one protects the other; hysterical, broken laughter right before a breakdown during sex (or anything that's supposed to be an intimate and tender moment); tracing scars in fascination with a sense of pride that you're the first/only one to see them; looking at the lights and motions of a city from above and feeling a sense of longing/alienation; whatever emotions you experienced while watching Netflix's Beef.

A + B somehow meet and get attached to each other, forming a genuine connection and feeling something for the first time in years in spite of how it draws scorn from their respective communities. give me flawed people who aren't necessarily out to fix each other that get their own sort of happy ending (happy being subjective here LOL).

B is intrigued by someone as "real" as A, being delighted that A treats them something close to human and is blunt about how they abhor B's standing and what they represent (looks at A with a hint of romanticization of poverty too) while A can't help but find it fascinating that someone who's so removed from regular people and is capable of destruction manages to have such childlike wonder at life. plus, B pays for food.

to some extent, they're both spectators gawking at each other as if the other is some animal in a zoo. they're both also very lonely people aching to feel seen and wanted.

important: my activity levels vary significantly since I kinda work 2 jobs and my main one takes a lot of my energy. if long gaps between replies make you anxious/irritate you or if you prefer fast-paced plots and rapid-fire responses, this probably ain't gonna work tbh--ofc i will try my best to communicate with you when things come up. busy people with loaded schedules that still like writing in their downtime to the front pls🥲

hope to build something neat that we can both yell about during weird hours! interact with the post and i'll reach out :]

Like this post and the asker will reach out!

#roleplay #roleplay ad #1x1 rp #dead dove roleplay #discord rp #email rp #20+ rp #mxm rp #nbxm rp #semi literate roleplay #novella rp

[muttonsnacks]

Motherfuckers guess which powercouple i just bought at da convention

#This is a NBxM ship TO ME #baahh

[roleplayfinder]

Hello~! I'm 21+F looking for an 18+ partner to do a 💜Twisted Wonderland💜 rp! I've been a huge fan of it since it came out in 2020.

I am semi lit to literate and can play pretty much any Cannon character! Along with that, I mostly Oc x CC but also do Oc x Oc, and I do double ups! I also do pretty much any pairing being MxF, MxM, FxF, NBxM.

I do Cannon, Au, or crossovers. Just also say I absolutely love chatting with Rp partners and plotting up ideas with them! I can do it either on Tumblr or Discord.

If interested, please favorite or leave a comment, and I'll message you as soon as I can!

.

#eighteen and over #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland roleplay #twisted wonderland rp #oc #oc roleplay #oc rp #ocxcanon #ocxcanon roleplay #ocxcanon rp #ocxoc #mxf #mxm #fxf #nbxm

[roleplay-searcher]

hello ^^ I'm a 19 year old guy that's interested in doing a roleplay with those that share an interest in a webtoon series called Eddsworld.

Some requirements:

I'm looking for an 1v1 long-term roleplay partner

Gotta be 18+, I just feel comfortable roleplaying those around my age

I pretty much mirror anybody's writing, as long as it's not a single sentence. Example: if you do novella, I'll also do novella

I'm mainly an oc x canon kinda guy! I do doubles just to be reasonable (if you roleplay as my crush, I'll roleplay yours).

My ocs are LGBTQ+, a couple being under the trans umbrella. The one that I mostly use is an oc named Alexis whom is a enby character that I have.

If you're interested, it'd be greatly appreciated if you checked out my roleplaying book; there it consists of more requirements in addition to having a list of my boundaries. The username is erstwhile2.

Take care. <3

!!

#roleplay #roleplay request #rp #rp request #1x1 #18+ #eddsworld #oc x cc #semi literate #literate #novella #enby #nbxm #edd #tord #Tom #Matt

[mxnsterbabe]

Nonbinary Robot/Male Reader NSFW Wordcount: 1,083 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

The park was unusually quiet today; perfect green grass stretched on forever, shielded from the outside world by towering cherry blossoms and ancient oaks. It was a little slice of peace in a hectic town, and Bliss had found you the perfect, private spot to enjoy the first real day of summer.

Bliss nipped at your neck, giggling when you swatted them away with false annoyance. “Come on,” they whispered against your skin; their lips were cold and metallic, but you had never minded that.

If anything, it was pleasant to feel those smooth lips against your skin on such a searing hot day, cooling your overheating skin; but making you burn for other reasons.

“We can’t,” you murmured, “somebody could see.”

“There’s nobody here.”

Not yet, you thought – but how easily could somebody stroll over? A child could lose their ball and come running over, or another couple that were looking for the same privacy as you?

Your thoughts came to a stuttering halt when Bliss’ blunt teeth nibbled at your ear. That sensitive spot never failed to make you shudder, eyes slipping closed.

“We can’t,” you insisted, but with less conviction this time. Had it always been so difficult to think when Bliss was near?

“I was built for this, you know,” Bliss whispered, their breath tickling your skin. It wasn’t real breathing, exactly, but the expulsion of air through metal tubes that gave the illusion of breath. It still made you shiver and sigh.

And you knew that Bliss was right; their creator, a man long dead, had made Bliss to be attractive. Made them to be good at giving pleasure; and hell, you knew how wonderful they were. You had lost count of how many nights you had spent with Bliss, wrapped in the thick sheets of your bed.

Just… you had never done it here, where anybody could appear at a second’s notice and see the two of you sprawled across the picnic blanket.

The thought caused an unexpected jolt of pleasure deep in your gut. Your dick twitched in response, straining against the tight fabric of your jean shorts.

“Admit it,” Bliss said, with one of those honey-laced laughs. “You want this, too.”

You couldn’t even deny it, not with your pulse quickening and your body going limp beneath Bliss’ gentle kisses. They trailed tiny pecks down your neck, along the sliver of your exposed collarbone; and you were utterly helpless to stop them.

When Bliss’ teeth sank into the tender patch just below your nipple, you let out a groan. Arousal clouded your senses – and  your embarrassment – as you burned your face in the crook of their neck.

You had hoped that the perpetual coldness of their silicone-like skin would have cooled your arousal; but instead, it only made you want them more.

“In this position,” Bliss murmured, “Nobody would even know what we’re doing. Tucked into my lap like this, we could just be kissing.”

Something in their tone, low and raspy with that hint of metallic echo, made you squirm. Your jeans tented as blood rushed to your lower region – and it was increasingly difficult to say no, when Bliss was right there offering to help.

“Fine,” you said, unable to keep the nervous smile from creeping onto your lips. “But just a quickie. Please? I won’t last any longer with you – ah – biting me like that!”

Bliss’ only reply was to grin; and then their gentle hands delved between your thighs to reach for the fly of your jeans.

You flushed in embarrassment as your dick sprang free from its confines; but Bliss simply took you into their hands, which were cool and slick and wonderful.

“Are – are you sure we won’t be seen?” You couldn’t help but ask, that bright flush warming even more as Bliss pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

“Honestly, I don’t know – but isn’t that half of the thrill?”

Of course Bliss would get off on being caught, you thought – and then your mind went black as Bliss’ slender fingers began to stroke down your length.

Bliss’ grin was beautiful and smug as they watched your reactions. They couldn’t receive any pleasure themselves; but as you gasped and shuddered at their touches, you wondered if perhaps watching you was enough to get off in their own kind of way.

Those slender fingers continued to stroke you, bringing all kinds of noises from your lips that you couldn’t even try to muffle. When their other hand grabbed your ass and squeezed, it was enough to nearly send you over the edge.

“Bliss,” you stammered, and your hands automatically went to grab their arm. It was firm, not by sculpted muscle but by steel and silver, unyielding beneath your vice-like grip. Yet you loved the unique feel of them, and loved even more Bliss’ soft, happy sigh.

You knew that you wouldn’t last for long and you were right; and a part of you was  hesitant to admit that the idea of being caught was what spurred you on. Not because you were afraid of it; but because it sent a thrill down your spine at the thought.

Bliss sensed your orgasm coming, and crushed their lips to yours. It made your head swim in the best way, even better as they gave you one last long, loving stroke.

Your release hit you all at once; Bliss’ touch and your own hyper-awareness finally sent you over the edge. When you came with a shuddering cry, you spilled across Bliss’ hand and grasped them so firmly it made your knuckles sting.

A crunch behind you made your pulse spike, excitement and worry shooting through you. Had somebody caught you after all?

“It’s just a squirrel,” Bliss chuckled, and placed a kiss to your forehead. “But I think you rather want to be caught.”

“I do not,” you argued – but Bliss’ wonderful smile and soft touches had you aroused again within moments, and you didn’t try to stop them as they gently pushed you onto your back.

If anyone saw you this time, there would be no doubts about what you were up to.

#exophilia fiction #exophilia #monster x reader #monster romance #tag: nbxm #tag: robot #tag: male reader #tag: nonbinary monster #tag: not sfw