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#ouch mouse
kikisqueaks · 5 months
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A Mini Adventure
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Cookie and I went on a little rescue mission today, after finding this little guy out in the rain this morning.
I called the local hedgehog rescue and they asked me to weigh them, and it turned out they were around 200 grams underweight for this time of year.
We took him to our nearest vet to be looked over (who said they're fine, aside from being underweight), and later this little ouch-mouse will be taken to, and cared for, by the hedgehog rescue.
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oxavierart · 2 months
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Mario Paint Ichiban
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frostbite-the-bat · 2 years
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has someone done this yet
anyways i love this creature
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jessemg95 · 1 year
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Really gay nurses
wirelessshiba’s on the right, Kabula's on the left
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sucrate · 5 months
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hi guys wip
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blivy-on · 1 year
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You heard of Livs pixel, now get ready for...
(Bigger below readmore)
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autoneurotic · 11 months
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so we carried all the groceries in while haulin’ out the trash, and if this doesn’t make us motionless, i do not know what can
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unityghost · 5 months
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Things idiots do: try to save a mouse in a sticky trap and get bitten and bleed all over the floor at work
Things I do: see above
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gutted by my own Minako playlist hfjdkgks how do I so easily forget the carefully targeted choices I myself make
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mercurial-mouse · 8 months
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⛈️ today's a great day for a hurricane ⛈️
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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GOJO W THE MAKING OUT COVERTLY DURING A MISSION TROPE PLSSSPLSPLS
contains: fem reader, third-year Gojo(19), accidental recording, inexperienced reader & Gojo, getting caught, exhibitionism, thigh riding, clothed hand job, Gojo cums in his pants, making out, dirty talk, sexual tension
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Your chest was pressed to Gojo's, the air in the room stuffy and hot as you tried to shuffle your bodies around, trying to give each other some room to breathe. The recorder clipped to Gojo's chest was probably suffocating with the loud rubbing of your clothes against him. "Just- fuck- scoot that way- ouch no- the other way-" You whispered into the small space, thanking the universe for the darkness of the stuffy closet, saving you the embarrassment of Gojo's teasing if he saw how red your face was.
--
Yaga had sent the two of you on a mission together, the objective--get recorded proof of a certain suspected jujutsu high assistant leaking crucial information to curse users. Gojo was a third year now, just having had his nineteenth birthday, and he was more than capable of handling missions on his own. However, Yaga absolutely did not trust Gojo with such a mission on his own, the young man always returned to the school with hundreds of thousands of property damage under his belt for the school to deal with.
This wasn't exactly the type of mission one could just bust in the room and take everybody down, it was a stealth mission, which Gojo was absolutely not equipped for. You weren't at the stage where you could take on a mission by yourself, but Yaga knew how great you were at calming a young and cocky Satoru down, which is how you ended up coming on this assignment with the white-haired man.
The two of you had made your way without a hitch to the meeting point, Gojo quick on your tail as he practically bounced with joy behind you, strolling with you through the dimly lit building. "Ahh~ This is sooo much fun, when's the last time we got sent on a mission together?" he asked, poking his head out in your peripheral vision. "This isn't supposed to be fun, Satoru. Do you know how much I liked Ms. Yae? I cant believe shes a traitor." You whispered.
Gojo pulled his head back, pursing his lips together as his long legs easily kept up with your fast pace. "Hmm.. I don't know if I ever knew her, but I guess it does suck, yeah.. but try to see the good in this~ You get to spend an entire mission with me~" He giggled behind you, too loudly for your liking. You stopped in your tracks, turning to look at him, "Satoru, she was our driver for the entirety of our first AND second year, and be quiet, you're talking too loud."
Gojo pouted, tilting his head at you, "Rude, I am not-" A door squeaking open around the corner followed by two people talking interrupted Gojo, as did your hand that you quickly pressed agaisnt his lips, shutting him up. You held your breath, waiting to see what was going to happen next. You felt Gojo smile behind your hand at how panicky you were at such a thing.
Your heart sped up in your chest when their footsteps started to echo in the hall, coming closer to where the two of you stood. "Fuck." You whispered under your breath, your hand leaving Gojo's mouth as you whipped your body around, trying to think of somewhere to hide. Gojo didn't fully understand how to teleport to long distances yet, but he could've easily moved the two of you to another floor. Of course, he would do no such thing though, he was having a great time watching you scurry around like a mouse in a maze.
"That's not good~" He whispered, giggling under his breath. You set your eyes on a door only a few feet away, from the outside it looked like an entrance to a fairly spacious room too; perfect for eavesdropping on their conversation. "Cmere," You whispered to Gojo, taking his large hand in yours you dragged him towards the door, trying to move as quickly as possible as it sounded like the footsteps were getting closer and closer.
You swung the door open, the old hinges making a loud squeak that made you cringe as you threw Gojo's body into the space and closed the door on yourself as quick as you could. You didn't expect your back to come into contact with a hard surface, covering the entirety of your back. "Hu-?" You felt a pair of warm hands grab your waist, gripping you softly. "Woah~ If you wanted a little more privacy you shoulda just said so~" Gojo cooed, tipping his head at you, even though you couldn't see him in the pitch blackness.
Upon further inspection as you pushed his hands off of your waist, ignoring the heat of your face, you found there were dry mop heads and brooms around you, something that felt like a jacket was hanging behind Gojo, and something; presumably a mop bucket; was sat at the back of the small space, limiting the already small surface area the two of you had to share.
"Fuck, we're in a closet." You whispered out loud, more to yourself than to the man you were pressed agaisnt. "Ooh really? How did you figure that out~?" Gojo teased. A quiet 'oww' spilled from the man's lips when you swung your arm in his general direction. God you did not need this right now, Gojo might be cocky, rude, overall obnoxious, and loud, but you have been harboring the biggest crush on him for a year. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a closer with him, your ass pressed against his crotch, in a high-risk situation.
You tried not to think about how good he smelled; expensive was the first word that came to mind. It was already obnoxiously hot in the closet, and all the blood rushing to your face didn't help the feeling of suffocation one bit.
You spun your body around, pressing your hands to his chest so you no longer had to feel his crotch against you, figuring this way would be less embarrassing. "Ooh is this like seven minutes in heaven? Shoko told me about this game once, you got a timer on you?" Gojo joked. You could feel his fingers fiddling with the drawstrings on the bottom of your jacket, the simple action you were barely able to feel was enough to send shivers down your spine.
"What was that?" A familiar voice spoke when the pair you were supposed to be stalking rounded the corner. "Shhh-" You hushed Gojo, hitting his chest gently with your hand so as to not cause any more sound as you tried to ignore his attempts at riling you up and instead focused on the task at hand. "It's okay, they're not gonna find us," Gojo assured, completely ignoring your instruction of him to stay quiet.
"If you keep running your mouth they might." You poked, gripping his shirt unconsciously as you held your breath, praying he was right. "Oh, so it's okay for you to talk?" Gojo whisper yelled, resulting in you kicking his shin- or what you thought was his shin. A wooden broomstick fell against the bucket, creating a loud bang inside the small closet. You scrunched your face up, cringing at your stupic mistake.
"Who's there?" The man's voice yelled, making your heart beat out of your chest. "You did it now, huh?" Gojo teased, giggling. How he was still able to laugh in this situation was beyond you, if you didn't think of something fast, you were going to ruin the mission and get smacked on the back of the head by Yaga himself. Your mind was spinning a mine a minute, you frantically tried to think of something, anything.
Worst case you could knock them out if you had to, fuck, was there someone at Jujutsu High who could erase memories? Fat chance. One thing did come to mind though, and it was almost sure to work, as long as it was the curse user who opened the door, If Ms. Yae was the one to open the door you would have to think fast, you always were quick on your feet, you would figure it out surely. After about three seconds of pondering, you decided to hedge your bets.
"Satoru, go with it." You whispered. Reaching through the darkness you found his face with little effort, grabbing his cheeks in your hands he could barely mutter a 'huh?' before he felt your lips on his. His eyes went wide, a shocked hum leaving his lips as you slotted your lips against his, starting a makeout. His hands found yours once more, he slipped his knee between your legs, making you moan softly as he stepped forward and pressed your back into the wall, chasing your lips with his hungrily.
Soft moans and hums were released into the air as he kissed you with passion, his soft tongue licking against your lips, trying to test the waters catching you off guard. You reciprocated, poking your tongue out to meet his. "mmmm" He moaned into the kiss when he felt your tongue meet his, the two tangling with each other sloppily.
You tangled your hands in his hair, ruffling the soft strands and messing up his fluffy hair as you held onto it for dear life. He pressed his knee against your cunt harder, making you moan against his lips. You weren't sure if he knew what he was doing, but you were sure if he kept this up there was going to be a decently sized wet patch on his knee from your arousal seeping through your panties.
The two of you kissed like you were both injected with poison and the antidote was in the other's throat. Like neither of you have had a drop of water in decades, like-
The door swung open, both of your heads snapping to the wrinkled old man's face as the light illuminated the both of you. He took in your states with a brief one-over, Ssatoru's knee was pressed against your panty-clad cunt, your skirt riding up in the process. His hair was standing in every direction, both of your lips were blushed a dark pink, and your faces had a color to match, the two of you breathing heavily as you stared at the man like you were waiting for him to close the door so you could continue.
"What is it?" The Jujutsu assistant said, standing behind the man at an angle where she couldn't see the two of you. "Ugh, just some kids hooking up." He replied with a disgusted look on his face, slamming the door on the two of you and leaving you in the darkness and heat of the room once more.
The volume of your breaths was accentuated by the silence in the closet. You fully expected Gojo to say something snarky now that you had been caught and it was over, but he stayed quiet, heavily breathing, you could feel his hot breaths hit your face. The adrenaline pumping through your veins from kissing him and getting caught was making you feel dizzy. "So.." you whispered, breaking the silence.
The faint tickle of his lips against yours made your body jerk at the unexpected feeling. He had brought his lips close again, what was he doing? It was over.. right? Gojo licked his lips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "You're a good kisser." He said, his breath teasing your skin when he spoke. "Y-yeah?" You had no idea what to do, you weren't used to seeing him like this. "Yeah..I guess we should go now huh?" He replied, licking his lips again as he kept them hovering in front of your own.
The warmth of his mouth radiating so close to yours was driving you crazy. The heartbeat you felt in your cunt was vibrating your whole body from how aroused you were at his situation. "Yeah, guess so." You responded, making no effort to pull your lips away. "Okay." He said, pressing his lips against yours but not closing the small distance in slotting them together. "Okay.." You said back, taking the initiative as you kissed him softly.
He kissed you back slowly, your lips separating in a lewd smack before the connected once more, the kiss speeding up, starting slowly.. slowly.. before Gojo decided he had enough and pressed his head into yours, deepening the kiss. "Mph-" You moaned against him when he slid his hands down to your ass and pulled your hips closer to him, rubbing your cunt along his thigh in the process.
You don't think you've ever been so aroused in your life, something deep within you was coiling around itself, making a need ache through your entire body. "Tell me to stop," Gojo whispered between kisses, digging his nails deeper into the fat of your ass. You wined at his words, pulling your lips back you let one of your hands in his hair slide down to the side of his face, caressing the skin there. You used your thumb to blindly find his lip in the dark, pulling it down before you let it bounce back into place. You pressed your lips to his once more, the two of you breathing heavily into the other's mouth, "I can't." You replied.
He groaned at your words before he smashed your lips together once more. The way you were whining and grinding on his thigh so needily made him feel like he was going to pass out. He needed this so bad, he's wanted this for so long and it was finally happening, all because you had kicked a broom instead of him. He smirked when your hips stuttered, your mouth opening in a slightly louder moan.
"Fuck, you wet?" He whispered needily against your lips, kissing you with fevor. "Mhm," you replied with a whine, humping your cunt along his thigh. The young man groaned at your response, it was then that you felt his hard-on digging into your thigh through his pants. He continues to massage your ass, helping you grind your needy pussy along his thigh as he panted into your mouth. "You feel me?" he asked, pressing his hips into your thigh, letting you feel the imprint of his cock along your leg.
It must've been the sensory deprivation because you were feeling everything tenfold, just the drag of his clothed cock on your thigh alone send a gush of arousal into your panties, your face heating up as you wined into the kiss. "You're so hard.." You whispered back, starting to slide your hand down his chest. "Yeah, all cos of you.. keep going." He encouraged impatiently, nodding against you as he waited to feel your hand on him.
He wanted to see you so bad, wanted to see what kind of expression you were making while you got off on his thigh, what your reaction would be to feeling his cock, how flushed your face was, but this would have to suffice for now. You continued your pursuit for his cock, dragging your hand teasingly over the ridges of his abs, his hip bones, thigh, and finally--his cock. Gojo let you know with a loud groan and affirmation of, "Right there." That you had grabbed his cock in your hand.
"I- I don't know what to do." You admitted, pausing your grinding on his hips as you were suddenly hit with a wave of unsureness. You had never touched someone else before, the only person you've ever kissed was Shoko in a game of spin the bottle once in your second year, you had no idea what you were doing. "I don't either." Gojo laughed, easing the tension you felt in your body and mind at the prospect that he would be disappointed because you had no idea how to please him.
"But humping my leg feels good for you, right?" He asked, to which you nodded briefly, a verbal response coming a little delayed when you forgot he could't see you. "And I know when you touch me like you're doing right now, it feels really good." The man pressed his forehead to yours, massaging your ass in his hands. "So just keep doing that." He whispered, before you felt his lips on yours once more.
"M-mmm" You moaned against him when you felt his hands push you harder along his thigh, trying to help you maintain a pace that would feel good for you. He let shaky breaths escape through his nose as he felt your hand rub and squeeze his cock through his pants. You were going at it with no rhyme or rhythm, but the sloppy technique felt surprisingly good, any form of pressure on his throbbing cock surely would've, he's never been this worked up before.
"I-it's so big." You whimpered against his lips, the praise making him release a shameless groan. "Yeah? wish you could see it." He replied with a short giggle, being cut off by a moan when you unconsciously squeezed around his tip just right. You whined when his leg shifted just right against your clit, giving you the perfect amount of friction at just the right angle. "F-fuck Toru right there-" You gasped, tipping your head back into the wall, the hard surface colliding with your skull, creating a small bump sound.
"Here?" He asked genuinely, using the leverage he had on your ass to pull you down hard against his thigh, making you jolt forward at the intense stimulation. "O-ohmy- yesyes-" You whined, shutting your eyes. Satoru chased for your lips in the dark, thankful you couldn't see him floundering around. It didn't take him long to realize your head was tipped back against the wall. Bending his slender neck down he found yours with his lips, pressing sloppy kisses into the skin there.
"Do you think you can cum from this?" He asked, trailing the kisses up your ear until he found the shell of it, biting and sucking the skin there. "Mhm I- I think so, f-feels like it." His brain almost short-circuited, his cock throbbed against your hand that was jerking him off weakly, pausing every so often when you felt a particularly good sensation. He couldn't believe his ears, you were going to cum, on his thigh, he was going to make you cum.
He swore just thinking about you unraveling on his thigh made his orgasm feel like it could wash over him at any moment, his whole body set on fire with sensitivity and arousal. "Feels like 'ur gonna cum?" He clarified, noticing how your hips started losing their pace against him. "Fuck- yes- nghhhh-" You moaned, clenching your teeth together a you felt the coil tie itself tighter it knots.
"Cum on my thigh pretty, I- I need to hear it," Gojo begged, making out with any inch of skin he could find with his lips. You were sure your neck was going to be a mess when you were finished here, but it felt too good to care. "Satoru- shit, I think I'm- gonna~" You blushed at your own words, the blush only deepening when he released a deep groan, pulling you back and forth along his thigh rapidly as he tried to bring you to your orgasm as your hips proved to be useless now.
"Shit-" Gojo was breathing heavily against your neck through his nose, the breathing coming out stuttered when he felt you come undone on his thigh, feeling his own orgasm begin to crash over him. "Oh fuuuuck-" The young man groaned, listening to your every wonton moan that spilled from your lips as your hips stuttered along his thigh, your whines and breaths coming out choppy as you came.
Gojo abandoned one of his hands on your ass, bringing it on top of yours that was weakly caressing his coc. He wrapped his hand over yours, messily interlacing your fingers as he jerked himself off using your hand, feeling the warm spurts of his cum spill into his boxers. "Just like that- j-just like that baby-" Gojo whined when you had just finished coming down from your high, some semblance of rationality seeping into your body as you picked up the motions of your hand, working him through his own orgasm with his help.
When the last of Gojo's seed had been released into his pants, you squeezed over his softening bulge one last time, his breath hitches as his hand curled his fingers over yours and pulled you off of his sensitive softening cock. "D-did you.." You asked vaguely into the dark space, to which Gojo smiled his signature smile you wished you could've seen, "A whole fucking lot." He answered, bringing his hands back to your hips as he slid his knee out from between your thighs.
You were about to speak when you heard the voices return faintly in the distance, heels clicking to follow. That's right, you were on a mission right now, Yaga had not, in fact, sent you to this old building to get yourself off of your classmate's thigh. The echoing got louder as they passed the room, muffled words could be heard through the door of the closet. "I'll send the information of the students over next, see you next time." Before goodbyes were exchanged, and the sound of a heavy entrance door opened and closed behind the Jujutsu high traitor.
"Oh shit, how lucky is that." Gojo laughed, realizing the two of you had got the information you needed just in time. "You think Yaga will mind the first ten minutes of this tape is a porno?" Gojo laughed. Oh my god, the tape recorder. Maybe you weren't so lucky after all.
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dandelionlovesyou · 1 year
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Paper cut freakin' hurts!
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sweetie-bunbutt · 1 year
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I recently got a really annoying and painful cut on my index finger and it kinda forces me to use my Mouse like this and it feels so wrong but i am also kinda getting used to it.
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monochrome-m0use · 1 year
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god damn sad mouse mods making me realize shit
can't have normal kins around here huh higdshgisd
dw figuring this out, just uh
i legit have No Info on the wiki so this is fun 👍‍
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skzdarlings · 2 months
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lady-like ; skz ; chan x reader
original ask: requested by anonymous: ❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜ W CHAN I BEG OF YOU + original ask: requested by anonymous: “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address”+ Chan <3
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pairing: bang chan/reader content info: enemies to lovers, established lovers. criminal!chan, masked!chan. dom!chan, sub!reader (background mentions of switching). choking, floor sex, rough sex, dirty talk. brief mention of some sexism in the workplace. word count: 2050 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy!
-
It is the middle of the night and you are patrolling the art gallery yourself.  You do not trust your colleagues or the security team tonight.  No one believes there is any way to track the SKZ gang but you have found an undoubted pattern.  That motley band of thieves have struck this gallery more than once, making off with paintings and artifacts alike, but tonight you will catch them.
Tonight you will catch him.   
Your thought conjures him like a devil.  You turn a corner and a gloved hand escapes the shadows, covering your mouth.  You are yanked backwards, right into his chest, your back to his front. 
You feel a moment of satisfaction because ha, you were right.  No one believed you but you knew SKZ would strike tonight. 
Then you are furious because those rotten thugs are probably making off with a priceless artifact while their leader holds you hostage. 
“Hey there,” Bang Chan says in that too-friendly drawl.  “How’s my favourite girl tonight?”
You try biting his hand but the leather of his glove is quite thick.  Probably on purpose.  You have left more than one bite mark on him in past encounters.   
“Ah-nah-nah,” he says, steadying you when you wriggle. “Stop that.  We both know how this ends.  Let’s play nice this time instead, yeah?” 
You answer by stomping on his foot and throwing your head back.  The smack surprises him and he stumbles, giving you an opportunity to turn and brace yourself in a more defensible stance.  You face him, hands up, adrenaline thundering through your body. 
Chan is wearing all black, including a beanie and mask.  He removes the hat, revealing hair just as black, but keeps the mask while rubbing his jaw.  The half-hidden face somehow makes the dark intensity of his eyes look even more severe. 
You and Chan have a played a long game of cat-and-mouse.  You are so used to his teasing that you almost forget he is dangerously competent man.  A criminal.  A criminal you despise.   A criminal who is undoubtedly grinning at you under that mask, given the way his eyes crinkle with mirth.  It should not make your heart race. 
“Ouch,” he says.  He takes a step towards you, inching out of the shadows.  “You’ve been training.  Impressive.” 
“Not like I had a choice,” you snap. “Some no good criminal keeps attacking my art gallery.” 
“Criminal, yeah,” Chan says.  “But no good?  Really?”  He flicks a hand your way, not so much striking as testing your reflexes.  You bat it successfully and his eyebrows lift, showing he is moderately impressed.  
“You’re a dirty thief,” you say, taking a swing of your own.  Yours is much more deliberate, swinging at his head, but he dodges just as easily. 
You scamper backwards, his booted steps following swiftly.  You keep your hands up in defense.  He is still smirking under that mask. 
“Thief, yeah,” he continues to tease.  “But dirty?  Well… I suppose you’d know…” 
Heat pulses under your skin. 
This cat-and-mouse game has crossed many lines.  You cannot even remember how it first happened.  It feels like Bang Chan has always been in the shadows, stealing paintings and kisses alike.  One moment you were snarking at the infuriating cat burglar, then your hands were in his hair and his mouth was on yours. 
Sometimes he wins, distracting you or holding you, giving his team time to make off with something.  Sometimes you win, trapping him or his men and only letting them go if they relinquish their prize.  Weirdly, Chan seems to like it when you outsmart him.  It quite literally puts him on his knees.
Flustered, your next swing is more emotional than strategic.  He catches your arm and spins you again, trapping you against his body.  You grunt and struggle in his arms. 
“That’s not very polite, you know,” he says.  “I thought you said you were a lady.”
Yes, you have made such an insistence in the past, reminding him you are a lady of class, an educated woman, an intelligent academic.  He did not argue.  He did pin you to the wall and choke you in that infuriatingly delicious way, the way that gets you coming all over his hand in a second.   That’s it, he said, with a hand around your throat and another under your skirt.  Tell me what a lady you are.  Letting a criminal like me make you come.  Tsk, what would your co-workers say? 
You stamp the memory down because it is getting you hot.   He is holding you differently than before, so you cannot swing your head back again.  You writhe uselessly. 
“I didn’t just say I was a lady,” you snap.  “I am a lady.  I am a respected professional, unlike you—”
“I’m respected and professional, thank you,” he says, his tone still bright like he is having fun. 
It is fun. You hate to admit it, but it is.  Before he started breaking into your galleries, every day was the same.  Your life was such a monotony and you dread returning to it. There is a reason you never call the authorities on him.  There would be no triumph in that demise. You would lament his absence and forever feel like business went unfinished. 
You are satisfied when you can face this dangerous man and win, when you can push him on his back and put him in his place, when all that danger and power and skill surrenders to you and you alone.  Because Bang Chan has a notorious reputation for a lot of things, but fraternizing with civilians is not one of them.   
Except you. 
Except right now. 
“You know what I say, little miss lady?” he asks.
He gives you no time to answer.  Your breath catches when he circles that gloved hand around your throat and squeezes.  It softens every part of you immediately, like a kitten grabbed by the scruff, instinctively and animalistically submissive in the claws of something powerful. 
You whimper, your knees going weak.  You know you are wet.  You know he knows. 
He pulls you against him.  You can feel every hard plane of his body, his bulky body armour, his weapons.  You feel either a buckle or his bulge against your body, but either way it is irrevocably suggestive.   When you wriggle, he squeezes your throat, and you go pliant again. 
“I’d say,” he whispers, “you need someone to put you in your place.”   
Oh, he has talked about your place many times before.  It’s with me, he will insist, fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come again and again, putting you on your knees and bringing out all the hidden dark and dirty parts of yourself.  Come on, he will say, we’re perfect for each other, yeah? You know it.  Join my team.  Come with me. 
You do admit, he respects your keen eye and talent, and he acknowledges your expertise far more than the other people at your gallery.  It took a year to even be allowed to do substantial tasks, relegated to fetching everyone’s coffee, getting spoken down to because you were a woman whose ambition was considered a nuisance. 
That is not enough to resort to a criminal life.  Surely? 
But for a moment, you can imagine giving into the darkness permanently.  Tonight, it is you that surrenders as he drags you both into the shadows and onto the floor.  He takes off his jacket and lays it out, pushing you down face-first onto it.  You take a dizzying gulp of air while his hands are occupied, removing his gloves, unbuckling his utility belt.   
You wait for the moment he lifts your skirt.  His breath catches when he realizes you are not wearing anything underneath.
You yelp because he smacks your ass.  You look back at him with as much fury as you can muster in your haze of lust. 
“A lady,” he says, grabbing your hips and tugging you back.  “Sure.” 
“I am,” you say, but your voice is rough, your breathing heavy just from his bare fingers gliding down your wet pussy, the evidence of your desire betraying your claims of propriety. 
“Sure, baby girl,” he says, because he knows it annoys you even while it makes you clench.  He can see the evidence of that too, swearing as he looks at you, making you feel even more exposed and flustered.   “You’re made for me, you know that, sweetheart?  Always feel so good on my dick.  God.” 
“You’re taking your time tonight,” you say dryly.  “Getting sentimental?  Turning into the slow and gentle type?” 
He laughs.  Then he grabs you by the neck, pinning you to the floor as he sidles up behind you.  The head of his cock presses at your entrance, wet with anticipation. 
“You want gentle?” he asks.  He is inside you with one deep thrust.  “Wrong fucking address.”
The truth is, even when rough, he is careful.  Your face never leaves his jacket and he knows where to squeeze and hit and press properly.   Bizarrely, ridiculously, you are safe in this criminal’s dangerous hands.   The biggest threat they pose are just how skilled and deft they are, making you forget about all of those details as he manhandles you and fucks your worries away. 
He wraps a hand around your throat and lifts you.  He is still in his mask, still almost entirely clothed except his undone fly.  Your skirt is up, your shirt in disarray, your chest and throat exposed to his hands.  You can hear him panting into his mask, your own breath as wild until he steals it.  You clench around him, making a weak, ragged sound as he chokes you and pounds into you. 
“You’re not gonna come like this, are ya?” he taunts, because he knows your body well, can feel you are the on verge just from his angles and rhythm.  “Tsk,” he says.  “That’s not very lady-like.”
You would tell him to shut up, but you can only manage a weepy moan as he drives you over the edge of a mind-numbing orgasm.  You feel drenched, dripping down your thighs, and he still doesn’t relent, pushing you back down and holding your hips as he drills through every sensitive nerve. 
“Fuck,” you say, twisting your fingers around his jacket.  Your knees will probably be bruised after this.  No short skirts or everyone will know something happened.  Would they guess you let the most notorious burglar in the country arch your back and fuck you on the floor?  Probably not.  You have always been a stickler for rules. 
Until this.  Until him. 
“Chan,” you say, breathless, rasping.  “Chan.”
“Fuck,” he says.  Then the weight of him is on your back, his hips grinding into yours.  His masked face brushes your ear and he speaks in a low voice, “Guess where I’m coming tonight, baby girl.” 
Your walls are still fluttering with aftershocks, pulling him deeper at his words.  It is not the first time, no.  God only knows how long ago that conversation first happened, telling him it was safe, how much you wanted it.   Letting him do things you never let anyone else do.  Breaking all your rules for him. 
“Fuck, Chan,” you say. 
“Yeah, baby,” he rasps.  “That’s who’s fucking you.  No one fucks you like I do.  God.  You can take it.  So good.” 
You can feel when he comes, his chest vibrating with his groan, the warmth inside you.  You slump in his arms, ravaged and sore and not the least bit sorry for it. 
You should be.  He won this round.  You should be furious at him.  You should be threatening him.  Your usual rapport. 
His mask comes off.  You hear it hit the floor.  Then he is grabbing your jaw and turning your face and kissing you deeply.  He holds your throat, not threateningly but possessively.  He is kissing you for so long, you almost forget who you are.  Then you surface.  You look at each other. 
“Come with me,” he says. 
The haze of lust has vanished.  You should be thinking clearly.  You fear, for the first time, you are.    
You suppose he has stolen everything else, why not you too? 
You put your hand in his.   
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autoneurotic · 1 year
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Well, all the Apostles, they’re sitting in swings saying, ‘I’d sell off my Savior for a set of new rings and some sandals with the style of straps that cling best to the era.’
So all of the businessers in their unlimited Hell where they buy and they sell and they sell all their trash to each other, but they’re sick of it all and they’re bankrupt on selling
and all of the angels, they’d sell off your soul for set of new wings and anything gold. They remember the people they loved, their old friends, and I’ve seen through ‘em all, seen through most everything.
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