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kamiversee · 2 months

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 19 || The Halt of Something New

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU'RE AN IDIOT.

Did you really think that everything was going to be all sunshine and rainbows just because you have a crush on a guy who treats you right?

How humorous it is for you to have been worried about Choso using you as if that's not exactly what you're doing to him. Sure, you wish things were different and that you weren't technically using him but, it's the truth-- you are using the man.

Sleeping with Choso was a requirement for you. His name was just something you needed to cross off the list, a box in which needed to be checked.

And let's not forget, you have to go on and sleep with Sukuna sooner or later. Someone who Choso's related to, according to Gojo.

How the fuck are you going to pull that off?

By now, it's been approximately two months since you've been blackmailed. Going down your accomplishments so far, out of a total of seven men, Gojo included, you've got the majority of the list completed.

After that one night with Choso, you found it extremely difficult to move on to the next guy. You weren't expecting it to be this hard but, you just couldn't leave the man alone.

You spend all of your free time texting him or on the phone with him and whenever your schedules align with one another, the two of you are within each other's company.

Those rendezvous that you had with Geto came to a stop and you ended up sleeping with Choso more than anyone else.

From your apartment, to his car, to his apartment, to his art studio, and even to a vacant janitor's closet-- you and Choso have been fucking like rabbits. The guy couldn't get enough of you.

Sex aside, he couldn't get enough of everything about you. If Gojo was right about anything; Choso did in fact grow attached to you.

Thing is, you couldn't differentiate whether or not he was attached because of the sex or because of you in general. Either way, it wasn't good.

The two of you hung out often and you only got to know him more and more and more. Choso's a wonderful person and you view him as your way out of the dark and deep hole Gojo's dragged you down into.

Even so, you can't help but feel like something about Choso is... off.

His care for you often overshines it but you simply cannot ignore how odd some of his actions or phrases to you are. For example; after the first time you slept with him and he left, how did he get back into your apartment?

You never asked him about it but you do wonder sometimes. Did he take a key before he left? Or did he simply leave your door unlocked so that he could get back in? Either way, it's odd.

Then there are those prolonged stares of his. You can feel the way he drinks in every little detail on your face. At first, you thought it was an artistic thing, thinking that maybe he admires you so intently because he sees beauty.

But over time, it really begins to feel as though Choso's inspecting you, printing your facial expressions and smallest gestures in his brain.

These moments of intimate study over your features give you wavering fluctuates of emotions in your chest. Sometimes you enjoy his expressive eyes and other times you don't.

Even so, none of it makes you like him any less, it just makes you feel like the man sees right through you. Choso makes you feel like a piece of glass, especially when you're lying to him.

As much as you can, you avoid talking about anything or anyone regarding the list when you're around him but the few times you slip up, you swear Choso is able to see through all the bullshit. That's what makes you nervous.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

A wise person once said; ignorance is bliss. Such a phase is nothing more than true for a woman such as yourself.

You believe you know a lot about Choso. You also believe you know a lot about Gojo.

But the truth is, you don't. There's a long twisted and fucked up path ahead for you but your ignorance is what keeps you in a blissful state, shielding you from the twisted truths of the feelings being harbored for you.

Honestly, it isn't difficult for one to acknowledge Choso's obvious crush on you. However, you fail to see the depths of said crush.

In the time you spend getting to know him and being around him, you end up being very transparent with him, to which he reciprocates every time. At one point you admit to Choso that you've slept with others within the time you've known him, sparing the details of who (of course).

His response to that information was that there was another girl he had relations with named Yuki but he stopped fooling around with her around the same time he started having sex with you. It was kinda messy and somewhere deep down you think you were a bit jealous but you had no right to feel that way.

And while jealousy is the topic of narration; Choso subtly lets his show every now and then.

He's aware that you and he aren't in a relationship but that never stops him from pulling your body close to his when he sees someone staring at you, or giving someone a death stare as they speak to you, or even telling someone to fuck off whenever they try hitting on you.

Is it wrong of him to do so? Technically, yes. You're not his girlfriend so he has no right. But, do you stop him from doing any of those things? No. Do you secretly enjoy seeing him act this way? Perhaps.

Even so, Choso does try to keep his jealousy over the small things at an all-time low. The last thing he wanted you to see was how far his care for you really went.

And he had it under so much control until he saw the negative effect a specific person (Gojo) has on you...

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

In all honesty, you had forgotten about the list for a while as Choso's presence and your feelings for him consumed you. At least, until Gojo texted you.

Currently, you sit in the passenger seat of Choso's car, your fingers aggressively tapping at your phone screen as your mood sours from merely one text from your blackmailer.

The vehicle is parked not too far from your apartment complex as Choso had driven you home from a day spent at the museum. He said he needed to go there for research for one of his classes and invited you along but you can't deny the fact that the whole thing felt like a date.

Even so, Choso's in the driver's seat, his ears perking up at the sound of your fingers tapping so quickly and aggravatedly across your cell phone. The man can't help the burning curiosity he feels as he glances over to you.

With tensed brows, your jaw clearly clenched, and scoff after scoff leaving you in reaction to whatever's on your phone-- Choso finds it physically impossible not to feel the need to question you.

"Are you alright over there, love?" He asks carefully after hearing your sixth sigh in a row.

You don't even look up from your phone, too engrossed in Gojo's stupid concerns for you, "Mhm, I'm fine."

"Liar." Choso points out.

A frustrated little groan leaves your lips, "I'm fine, Choso." You repeat, your voice stern.

The man tilts his head, his eyes burning into the side of your face.

He stares for a while, having no response to your repeated lie to him. After a few minutes of simply watching you text back and forth with someone, Choso scoffs and tears his eyes off you.

He pulls out his phone and tries to distract himself from you and whoever's got your attention but it's no use. Scrolling through social media is impossible to focus on when all he hears is the annoyed sounds you keep letting out and the way you dryly laugh in anger at something.

The male doesn't even know why he's so hyper-focused on you like this. More than usual, Choso finds himself picking up on every little thing about you.

There's even this feeling he gets in his chest when he sees your attention elsewhere. He wonders if it's jealousy but it couldn't possibly be that when the two of you aren't in a relationship.

Reluctantly, his eyes find their way back to you again. His vision fixates on your hands, attentively watching each letter you tap on the screen.

Choso's able to put together the words you're typing out just from watching your fingers alone, gathering the message you typed that reads; 'Don't give me that bullshit about just wanting to check up on me. I already told you not to text me like this unless it's about the-' Your fingers had stopped moving.

Both of your eyes went wide as you received a sudden call, cutting off your rant. Choso doesn't mean to be nosy like this and it's almost instinctive the way his eyes search for who's calling you, only for that curious gaze of his to be obstructed by you quickly turning your phone off and dropping the device.

A deep groan leaves your lips as your phone slips slightly in between your thighs. You let it vibrate against your skin, completely ignoring Gojo's call.

You then look over at Choso and his eyes fly up to your face.

It's awkward the way you two stare at one another. He's wondering if he seems far too nosy having been all up in your phone and you're worried that he may have seen the messages you've typed and who just called you.

"Are you uh... not gonna pick that up?" Choso questions. Evident in his tone is this carefulness, as if his words were walking on eggshells.

"No." You answer curtly, "I'm actually about to block him."

"Him?" Choso repeats thoughtlessly.

The two of you freeze.

Choso didn't mean to let that slip. His bottom lip draws into his mouth in regret, having wanted to avoid feeling jealous over nothing. In his mind, he has no reason to exhibit such emotions when you're not his girlfriend-- a fact he constantly has to repeat to himself.

The male looks away from you after saying that, visibly letting his thoughts take over his words.

"Yes Choso, him." You reply, your tone cold.

You don't want to take your frustrations out on your crush but then again, the last thing you have time for is jealousy.

Your frosty gaze peers into the side of his face as he avoids looking at you after slipping up like that.

He figures he's already let one question loose so why not continue expressing himself? "Mind if I ask who's 'him'?" Choso questions.

Your brows push together and you open your mouth to reply but after a second of thought, your mouth shuts. You'd nearly said something out of aggravation and you had to hold your tongue to prevent any negative vibes between you and Choso.

With a sigh, you look away from the man. "Do you remember the asshole I told you about weeks ago?" You ask, tone soft but still holding your stress.

Of course he remembers, how could he not? You told him about said asshole during your first phone call with him, an event in which Choso could never forget.

"The one that made you cry?" Choso asks for confirmation, his voice dry as he recalls the unnamed man you always refer to as an asshole.

You hum, "Yeah, him."

Choso steadily looks over to you, his eyes sinking down to the buzzing phone in your lap, "I see." He replies. He then lifts his eyes to your face that's turned away from him, "Still don't like him, huh?"

"I told you before, I hate him." You explain.

"Then why're you just now about to block him?" Choso questions, his tone growing more dull.

You scoff, "I'm not in the best position to where I can actually block him."

"Why not?"

"Because there are things he and I still have to work out." You explain vaguely.

Choso blinks, his eyes darkening as his mood dips into something annoyed. "Is he an ex of yours or something?" The man asks you.

You turn your head to Choso with pinched brows and a scrunched-up face, "What? No."

"Mhm, right okay so, what do you still have to work out with him that prevents you from blocking him?"

You sigh heavily and flash a clearly annoyed smile, "Choso, while I appreciate your concern for me, I really don't feel like explaining right now."

Your crush grits his teeth and visibly bites back a response to that. There's a mix of genuine care and jealousy brimming inside him.

"Right. My bad," Choso resorts to sympathy. "Just know, if you need advice, I'm right here." He says with an emphasizing scoff.

For the first time since you've met him, Choso is aggravated. You're unsure of why he's upset when you have the right to be private about the context of a man who's upsetting you.

You're not obligated to explain anything to Choso. He knows that.

Though, that's not why he's upset. As he turns his head away from you and looks out his window in thought, Choso feels displeased at how some guy has you angered and the way you won't open up to him.

There's this need you feel within you to calm Choso down so, almost instinctively, you reach a hand over to his side and place it on his thigh-- watching the way his body stills under your touch.

Choso glances down at your hand and raises a brow.

You swallow, "I know you're right here and I know you can give me advice but..." Your hand slips upward along his leg in a comforting manner, "This isn't something you can help me with."

The sound of him clearing his throat as you touch him is heard. Choso rolls his hips a little, trying to comfort himself under your touch while your hand trails up.

"How uh... How do you know?" Choso hums, just barely taking his gaze away from your moving hand.

Your eyes meet his, "Cause' it's uhm... it's personal." You explain, grinning slightly.

You then lift your hand from his leg, to which he sighs, and grab a light hold of his chin. Your thumb rubs over his smooth skin and Choso just melts into your touch.

"Oh," He says, nodding slightly, "I get it..."

"Yeah, sorry-"

"Oi," Choso cuts off as he raises his hand to yours. His eyes are serious while he shifts to kiss your palm, "What'd I tell you about that?"

You chuckle, "About what? Apologizing?"

"Mhm. There's nothing for you to be sorry about." He tells you, "I get it, it's personal."

"It's a habit," You explain simply, nearly apologizing again.

"I've noticed."

A smile spreads across your face, your mood lifting, "Have you?"

"Course' I have," Choso says.

He then moves your hand, placing it back down on his thigh with his own resting on top. His fingers gently caress your smaller ones, eyes dropping down to the sight and his expression relaxing as he does so.

The tension in the car begins to dissipate as you and Choso find solace in one another's touch. The weight of the situation lifts and you feel a little less uneasy.

The warmth of Choso's hand on yours is comforting, providing you with a moment of relaxation. He never fails to change your mood.

Choso looks up to your face, "I notice everything about you, y'know."

Your smile widens, "Do you?"

"Yeah. I try to remember as much as I can." He tells you.

You raise a brow, "Why?"

"I don't call you my muse for no reason." Choso claims, "When I say that, I mean it artistically too."

Too, you repeat mentally. He's confirming that calling you his muse has always been meant in a romantic sense previously.

"Really? So do you have more paintings of me hidden somewhere or something?" You ask jokingly.

He laughs slightly, almost as if there may be some truth to what you just said. "Somethin' like that, yeah."

"Wait seriously?" You ask, your face brightening up at the thought.

"Yes. I find myself accidentally drawing your face quite often." Choso hums, looking back down to your connected hands as the tips of his ears redden.

You lean closer to him slightly, "Aw really??"

He clears his throat, "Yes, really. Do you uh... You wanna see?"

"Of course I do!" You beam.

He can't help but stammer as your excited expression is revealed to him. The way seeing you happy has him melting immediately is almost embarrassing.

Chuckling slightly, Choso nods his head to his bag on the floor in between your legs, "I have a sketchbook in there you can look through."

You don't hesitate to move for the item, quickly removing your hand from his thigh and diving it down to the bag on the floor. You unzip it and rapidly spot the book he's referring to, taking hold of the item and pulling it out.

As you do so, your phone keeps buzzing in your lap but every notification is ignored.

With a smile on your face, you hastily open the sketchbook and the first drawing you see is a picture of someone that makes your smile flicker. It's difficult to control your facial expression when the first image shown to you looks like a younger version of Sukuna without face tattoos.

You bat your eyelashes at it and open your mouth to say something but Choso makes up for your confusion by speaking first, "That's my little brother," He explains.

"Yuji, right?" You ask in return, having remembered the name from a previous conversation with Choso.

Any chance he's gotten to talk to you about his brothers, he's taken. Well, with an exception for Sukuna. The only reason you know they're related is because of Gojo, which concerns you since Choso always finds a way to talk about his siblings to you.

A big smile spreads across Choso's face, "Yeah, you remember his name?"

"Yep." You reply proudly, "And your other brother's names are Kechizu and Eso, right?"

Oh, the man's heart is simply fluttering at the fact that you remember his brothers' names. "Y-Yeah." Choso stammers, flashing you a gushing smile.

You flip to the next page of the sketchbook and see two more drawings of Yuji but at different angles. "I think I know who your favorite is..." You say teasingly.

Choso chuckles, "I don't have a favorite."

"These drawings say otherwise..." You hum as you continue to flip through the next few pages.

Other images of Yuji and Choso's other siblings appear and you can't help but smile at each one. Eventually, you get to a page where the drawings go from portraits to anatomy; more specifically, hands.

You notice that each hand seems to be his own, all in different positions and angles. Your eyes skim page after page until you come across a set of hands that appear more feminine than the rest.

A narrowed gaze inspects the paper a bit closer and you can't help but notice how the hands on the page resemble your own.

"Cho..." You call out, glancing over to the man, "Are these my hands?"

There's a light shade of pink on his face but his eyes are down on the sketchbook you're holding. "Mhm." Choso hums quietly.

His timidness makes you smile before you continue. Steadily, the focus of his sketches transitions back to portraits and you soon come across a drawing of you. You can't help but cheese at the sketch-- Choso draws your features so beautifully.

The male leans toward you a little, "Like it?" He asks.

Your smile doesn't waver for even a second, "Like it? Choso, I love the way you draw me."

Choso finds himself smiling at you, his heart simply pounding in his chest. "R-Really? Wow, thanks...? I'm happy you like it so much."

"Love, Choso," You correct, turning to look at him, "I love it."

He holds eye contact with you but his face goes red as you utter those words to him, "They're uh, they're not even that good though..."

"They are to me." You argue, looking back down to the page, "I look so pretty in your eyes."

"You're pretty in everyone's eyes, princess." Choso complements.

You chuckle, "That's cute but no, I'm not. Thank you though, I think you capture my face better than my phone, honestly."

"I disagree," Choso says.

You look at him. "Why?"

"Cause' I could illustrate your face a thousand times over but..." His gaze softens as he thinks for a second, "Something always feels like it's missing."

Your brows raise a little, "Like what?"

"I dunno, you? It's like they look like you but they don't feel like you and I'm struggling to express that feeling on paper." He explains, "Which is why I ended up choosing graphic design and not fine arts, I'd be losing my mind if my career was based on this..."

You laugh at him, "Yeah, I get it."

After which, you start flipping through page after page again, beginning to see what the man meant when he said he draws you often. You're pretty sure you've seen yourself with almost every facial expression and every angle by the time you reach the end of the sketchbook.

"Seems like you express the feeling of me just fine on paper," You point out, "Well, at least to me."

"Nah," Choso denies, raising his hand to your chin and forcing you to face him. His eyes scan your face, "Every drawing in there is missing something."

"If you say so," You chuckle.

The male pulls you toward him, weighing himself to you at the same time as his thumb moves to outline your mouth, "For example; your lips." Choso sighs.

You blink, "They looked fine to me."

He shakes his head, "When I draw them, they lack warmth."

"I mean... they're sketches Choso, I'm not sure how-"

"Your eyes," Choso unintentionally cuts off, still tracing your lips, "When I draw them, it feels like you're actually looking at me."

A snicker leaves you, "So are you supposed to feel me kissing you when you draw my lips?" You ask in a joking manner.

Choso smiles, "I wish but no, that's not what I'm trying to feel." He then shrugs, "I just want to draw how looking at your lips makes me feel."

"I'm not sure I understand, Cho." You sigh.

"Every time I look at your lips, I wanna kiss you. Every time I look into your eyes, I feel... vulnerable. In my sketches, I feel that same vulnerability as when I draw your eyes but then I feel nothing when I draw your lips," Choso explains in full.

"I see..."

"That's why I said they lack warmth. The sketches don't feel like you."

You nod understandingly, "I get what you mean now."

"Mhm. And y'know I think it's because I study your eyes more than your lips," Choso continues, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down. He then licks his lips, "Maybe if we made out more I'd be able to draw your lips better."

Your eyes widen for a moment, then you start laughing. "Choso, you did not just use your art as an excuse to kiss me."

He gives you a toothy smile, "Oh no, I definitely did."

You commend him for his excuse by leaning in toward him and tilting your head, slowly connecting your lips with his. Choso struggles to control his smile whilst you kiss him and his hands steadily go to your cheeks, cupping your face in his palms.

It's now you struggling not to smile as both of you kiss each other passionately.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You wished every day could've stayed like that.

Such a time of bliss was something you'd been longing for amid your stressful troubles. To stay in Choso's arms for hours on end was something you'd plead for if it meant you could feel happy for some time.

Of course, all good things must come to an unfortunate end. And in your case, it wasn't an end but more of a... pause.

About one more week was the most you got to enjoy happiness with Choso. From your point of view, you could just not tell Gojo that you'd already slept with Choso, which prolonged the unlimited time you have for the list.

And it was wonderful not having to move on from Choso but, it did lead to a stronger attachment growing between the two of you.

It happened on a Friday afternoon. Something you stupidly didn't think about. A question you hadn't had an answer to, which led you down a path of regrettable decisions.

It was all fine at first. Shoko wasn't home, like always, and Choso was resting his head comfortably on your chest. His body lay slightly on top of yours and his arms were wrapped around you comfortably.

The two of you were watching TV together, almost like a couple in love. Whenever you laughed at something on the screen, Choso would smile at the sound and snuggle the side of his face into you.

At some point, an emotional scene came up on the TV and the words made the man on top of you begin to think. There was a couple arguing in the show about their relationship going public or something and damn the way it made Choso wonder.

For you, it was unexpected. The man shifted slightly, taking his eyes off the TV and looking around your room in thought.

After a moment, Choso spoke. "Hey, can I ask you something?" He requests.

Your eyebrows raise slightly as you look down at the man lying on you, "Depends," You tease, "What kinda' question is it?"

He chuckles, lightly but nervously. "It's uhm..." He moves around to glance up at you for only a few seconds, then he looks off to the side. "It's about us."

You bat your eyelashes at him and your heart freezes in your chest, "A-About us?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"Alright," You swallow, "What about us?"

Choso goes quiet. It's clear he's debating something, his eyes trail over to your face once more, and those sangria-colored eyes of his fill with uncertainty.

You return a curious stare to him before raising your hand to his face. Your thumb gently skims across the tattoo running along the bridge of his nose. Choso's hair is loose, dark strands messily flowing down and just barely reaching his shoulders.

Your small touch to his face provides him with this sudden sense of comfort, making him grin. "What is it, Cho?" You ask, your voice soft.

"What uh... No, I..." He trails off as he tries to find the right way to word his question. Choso swallows hard and shuts his eyes, "Okay. Do you like me?"

You chuckle at his sudden question, "I thought I made it pretty obvious..."

He sighs, "I'm being serious. Like, do you have feelings for me?"

"Uhm," You chew on your lower lip in thought.

Choso's eyes open and he takes in your expression, "Be honest with me, princess."

You smile, "Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"

"Cause' I have feelings for you," Choso admits bluntly.

Your eyes go wide as if you didn't already know that. "O-Oh." You chirp.

"So," He sighs again, feeling as your thumb continues the gentle trace over his tattoo, "I wanted to know if you feel the same."

"I do," You whisper, seeing no way of avoiding this conversation.

Choso nods, "Yeah, I know." He then chuckles, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

You pout, "This isn't how I planned on confessing..."

"Welcome to my world," Choso hums teasingly. "Anyways, that wasn't my main question..."

"Oh?" Anxiety returns to your nerves again.

He stares up into your eyes, "See, I uh, I like what we have going on right now, I think..."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I like spending time with you, I like laughing with you, smiling with you..." His voice lowers and he glances off to the side, "I like fucking you," He murmurs softly before looking at you again, "I like it all, honestly."

"Okay... Where are you going with this Cho?" You question, your eyes narrowing a little.

He swallows, "Well... Do you like what we have going on?"

You're quick to nod, "Of course."

"Right so..." Choso bites his lower lip for a second, then releases it, "Is this all you want?"

You blink. "What uh... What do you mean?"

"I mean," The man shifts, pulling his face from your touch and propping himself up over you with his elbows, "There's no... label on us."

"Okay..." You trail off, worried about where this is going.

Choso sighs heavily, "How long are we going to be like this?"

"I-I don't know..."

"Don't you want to be something more?" Choso questions.

"I do," You hum, "But..."

His brows furrow and he tilts his head slightly, "But what?"

"Not..." Your voice lowers and you look away from him, "Not right now..."

He blinks, "Okay, but... can I know why?"

You shrug sheepishly, "I like what we have right now."

"I do too," Choso claims. "But, I'd also like it if we were... y'know..."

"If we were what?" You ask.

"Together." He answers straightforwardly.

Ah, here's what Gojo warned you about.

You chuckle slightly to try and ease the growing tension, "We are-"

"Officially." The man cuts off.

You look at him with pleading eyes, "Choso, we-"

"Publically." He cuts off again, his expression full of seriousness.

"So, what, you wanna date?" You ask.

Choso blinks, "Yes."

Your heart starts caving in. "T-This is an interesting way to ask me out, y'know..." You tease, again trying to ease the tension.

It's no use though, Choso's not in the mood to joke about this topic. He voices out your name in a low tone, making your body freeze beneath him.

"I'm not joking." Choso tells you, his eyes intimidating, "I wanna be yours."

Fuck, those words almost made you smile. Under any other predicament, you'd say yes in a heartbeat. But, you can't date Choso and finish the list at the same time.

You swallow hard and look away from him nervously, "Ch-Choso, I-"

"And I want people to know that I'm yours," He expresses. "Yes, I like what we have now but the unknown of it all... it bothers me."

"Unknown? Choso, we know what we have-"

"Do we?" He scoffs.

Your brows pinch together, "Yes?"

"I don't." He claims, "I mean, there's no title to it. I just can't help but wonder... What..." He sighs heavily and shuts his eyes again, "This is so cliche but, what are we?"

And there it was. The question you struggle to answer. It's a damn good question because, honestly, what are you two??

Choso lifts himself up some more before sitting up, "Are we fuck-buddies? Is that what this is?"

"N-No, we're-"

"Is this some kinda' situationship?" Choso asks further with a scoff, he seems upset now. "Cause' y'know, I'm just really confused. We hang out like friends one day, fuck like lovers another, and then..." He trails off, shrugging instead as he doesn't know what to say.

You move to sit up too. "I... Choso, I didn't realize you wanted to put a title on this..."

He narrows his eyes at you, "I didn't... at first. But then I found myself feeling weird when people stare at you whenever we go out or annoyed when your attention is elsewhere a-and... I can't say anything about this weird feeling because we're not in a relationship so..." Choso explains.

"Feeling weird? You mean jealousy??" You question further.

"Yes. That's exactly what it is, jealousy. I get jealous because of a lot of things and there's nothing I can do about it because we're just..." He pauses, then shrugs annoyed. "I don't even know."

You take a deep breath and keep your voice gentle, "So that's why you're upset, because you get jealous over things when you feel like we shouldn't and because you don't know what we are?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Choso tells you.

"Okay so-"

"Do you want me?" Choso cuts off, the question pouring out of him faster than he intends.

Your voice gets caught in your throat, "I... Of course-"

Choso moves again, his hands placed at the sides of your legs and his face coming closer to yours, "Then have me." He whispers passionately, "If you want me, have me.”

"I can't..." You murmur.

His gaze switches focus back and forth between your left and right eye, "But you can." He argues, moving to take one of your hands and hold it against his chest, "I'm all yours, I just need you to claim me."

You frown at the needs prodding at your insides. You want nothing more than to do such a thing but you can't.

Choso inches his face closer, his head tipping to the side and his lips nearing yours, "Tell me I'm yours," He whispers, now moving your hand to his cheek, "Let me be your boyfriend."

You inhale heavily, your breath shaking as you do so. "Choso..."

"Yes, princess?"

"I... I can't." You tell him regrettably.

Choso grits his teeth before turning his face to kiss your palm, "Why?" He whispers, "Tell me why we can't be together?"

Your heart throbs in your chest as you come up with the only excuse you can, "I can't do a relationship right now."

A moment of silence envelopes the two of you as Choso sighs into your hand with his eyes shut. He then pulls away slightly for just a second to shake his head in disbelief before planting a kiss on your palm.

"Right..." Choso mumbles into you, "Okay."

He then releases your hand carefully and turns his face to yours. You both meet eyes and he can see all forms of sadness within your gaze. Choso feels his heart waning at the sight.

Slowly, the man shuts his eyes and kisses you. You're not sure why he does it but you definitely don't fight it, kissing him back tenderly.

Choso parts from your lips slightly and whispers against your skin, "Whenever you're ready," He begins, causing you to frown immediately.

"Ch-Choso please-"

"You can call me," He continues, "I'll be there for you in a heartbeat."

You feel as though you're about to cry, "Are you... leaving me?" You whisper.

He nods, "I'm sorry."

Your hands go to his face again, cupping his cheeks in your hold as if to convince him not to, "Choso please, I just..."

His hands move to your wrists and he gives you a soft squeeze, "I can't do uncertainty so," Choso gives you one last peck on the lips, "I gotta go."

Another kiss is placed upon your lips and you try to push yourself further into it so that the connection never ends. Choso's heart feels heavy as his lips pry from yours.

With one final look into your eyes and a somber grin, Choso pulls your hands off his face. He then releases your wrists and moves to get off your bed.

You quietly watch him grab his stuff and move toward your bedroom door.

He then turns back to look at you one last time, "When you're ready for a relationship, I promise I'll be here."

You release a shaky sigh, "Please don't leave."

He frowns, "I can't stay."

"Choso..."

"I'm sorry, baby." He apologizes gently.

You bite your bottom lip, holding back the tears that threaten to pour out of your eyes.

With one last gaze and sigh, Choso tears his eyes off you and walks out.

And there you're left; alone.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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rookiesbookies · 2 months

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Konig and His Loser

Sex Doll AU, here's the one that won my poll. sorry he took so long- big thank you to @shotmrmiller for helping me edit and get it to perfection ❤️

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, check out my AU list for more like this. Don’t forget to leave me a comment (i always try to respond) or a request in my inbox (i also try to respond to these when I can), a reblog, or even just a like to let me know what yall want to see!

Konig seemed pretty similar to the other stories but she had found him in a magazine. A simple magazine ad, but she just called it in, why not right?

Well, she hadn’t read the size well and was lucky that they had to call a moving company to get him in from the warehouse.

She couldn't believe her luck as she watched the movers gingerly maneuver the box that held Konig through the narrow hallway of her apartment building.

As they finally managed to get Konig into her living room, just from the outside of his box she could tell he was huge.

After fighting open the box once the movers had left, she stood back in awe, taking in every intricately carved detail of his frame. His features were striking yet delicate, a perfect balance of strength and vulnerability that seemed to draw her in deeper with each passing moment.

Once freed she saw that he was a masterpiece in person, not done justice by the pages of that damned ad, a work of art that had seemingly materialized from her dreams onto the glossy pages of the magazine ad.

Especially his scars. The big ugly ones that littered his face. He looked like whatever mask he had come with had caught on fire at some point. She had a hard time telling if it was by design or not.

She spent hours just sitting in front of him, tracing the lines and curves of his form with her fingertips, feeling his skin and texture. He felt so close to human. It was as if he held a piece of her soul within him, a connection that transcended time and space.

Over the days that followed, she found herself drawn to Konig more and more, losing herself in the depths of his enigmatic presence. She tried hard to figure out how to 'activate' him as he did turn on in the instruction manual. They manual made it clear there seemed to be one, but as she fiddled with his clothes and appercence to try to turn her new toy on.

She truly did her best but she had been watching some movies from her childhood on reruns when the idea of 'true love's kiss' jumped into her mind.

She felt him breathe against her after she planted it softly on his lip. His hands moved to her hips and pulled her closer and over his lap. He held her close, his touch familiar and comforting, but maybe that was just her delusion. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers as they embraced in the dimly lit room.

The soft patter of rain on the windows created a soothing background melody to their not so silent dance. She nestled into his arms, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Time seemed to stand still as they lingered in that moment of intimacy, savoring the connection that bound them together.

Despite the mask that concealed his identity, she knew him intimately and cherished the bond they shared beyond words or appearances in some deep, almost spiritual way. And so they remained entwined, two souls intertwined in a delicate balance of love and uncertainty, lost in the beauty of their silent embrace.

He stayed quiet, almost scary quiet and they kissed over his mask. Feeling eachother’s lips through the fabric of an old t-shirt.

His hands moved lower, tracing the curves of her body as he rid her of her pajama pants. She gasped at the touch, her skin tingling with desire. His fingers were gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, his tough fingers from working on the field roaming her.

She couldn't help but feel self-conscious as his eyes roamed over her exposed body. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, his touch was filled with such tenderness and adoration that it made her heart swell with emotion.

He kissed her again, keeping the thin barrier of his mask, his lips demanding and insistent. She responded eagerly, losing herself in the passion that consumed them both. For a moment, she forgot about everything else - the world outside their room, their past lives and all their struggles. All that mattered was this moment and the overwhelming sense of love they shared. His hulking figure even more imposing with all his gear on.

His hand traveled lower, teasing between her legs until she moaned against his lips. He continued to explore every inch of her body until she was trembling with desire.

He lifted her onto her couch. He scooted up and put her legs over his shoulders and just went to town after draping his mask over her lower lips. It was like he was starved, leaving her gasping. He was messy, her slick coating his face before he lifted himself and leaned her back. He whispered some coaxing things in a language she didn't understand, she assumed they were coaxing at least.

With hesitation, he guided his delicious uncut cock inside of her, it barely escaped his heavy military pants, and she gasped at the sensation. It wasn’t similar to anything she or he had ever experienced before - a perfect pleasure that sent shivers down her spine. He was so big, long, a girthy that she couldn't believe it. She was so on Cloud 9 that she felt like she couldn't breathe. It was like his dick was up in her throat stopping any words from leaving her. His tip hit her cervix and his breathing got heavy with hers as he tore off his helmet with one hand and went back to kissing her, draping his mask over the lower half of her face. Her eyes were rolling around her skull, she was high on the way he rubbing on her insides. The feeling was a certain type of suffocatingly delicious moment as their breaths mixed under his mask.

As they moved together in some perfect harmony, it felt like they were two pieces finally coming together to complete each other's puzzle. She was lost in his embrace, finding solace and comfort in their shared intimacy.

When they finally reached their climax, it felt like fireworks exploding in every corner of the room. He collapsed as gently as he could onto his forearms to keep from falling on her, breathing heavily as they basked in the aftermath of their love.

For a while, they lay there in silence, feeling content and fulfilled in each other's presence. As the rain continued to pour outside, they remained wrapped up in each other- two imperfect beings finding perfection in their love for one another.

All she could think about was, from how he panted like a dog, maybe he was a loser too.

#cod x reader #call of duty #konig x you #konig #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig headcanons #cod konig

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art · 2 years

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Creator Spotlight: @tinypaint

My name is Michelle Fus. I’m a Jewish, non-binary artist. I graduated from the School of Visual Arts for Computer Art and Animation in 2011. I’ve interned at Pixar and worked for a few years at Dreamworks Animation. Over the past ten years, I’ve self-published two books and have run three successful Kickstarters. I now work with Skybound (The Walking Dead, Invincible) in developing my webcomic, Ava’s Demon, as a physical book series for stores. I like hiking, cultivating plants, caring for my cats, and hanging out with my beautiful husband. You can read my webcomic at avasdemon.com.

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Ava's Demon?

I’ve always been into art since I was very young. I started to gravitate towards it in first grade, where we were required to keep a daily journal. I found myself drawing in it more than actually keeping entries. From there, I got more and more interested in honing my skills as an artist. I started making my own comics for fun. I signed up for classes outside of school and put together a portfolio for the School of Visual Arts, where I majored in Computer Art and Animation. After getting my first job in the field, I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. After working my day job, I would come home and work towards building a career in comics for myself by creating and uploading my webcomic, Ava’s Demon.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Looking things up to learn more before I make art or write. For instance, how many livable planets are in a Galaxy? What does a black hole actually look like, and can it give off light? How long would it actually take to travel through space if you had the fastest ship possible? I look up all of these things and then ignore most of them for the sake of writing a fun story and making fun art.

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It depends on the feeling I want to convey. Sometimes I’ll work for a whole week on a drawing and then delete it because I just don’t feel good about it. Other times I’ll make something in a day that I absolutely love from beginning to end. Some drawings I never delete nor finish, and instead, the files just kind of sit in a folder. The time it takes varies a lot.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

I really love good stories. So movies and books with captivating stories usually motivate and inspire me; stories that stay with you permanently, with twists and turns that you can’t stop thinking about. I also love finding characters whose struggles I can deeply relate to. I try to hold onto those feelings and emulate them through my art.

What is the hardest part of your process?

Actually finishing a drawing. The anxiety of it piles on me sometimes. I’ll work for a while on a drawing and constantly ask myself, “Is this drawing really finished? What terrible things about it am I not seeing?”. My desire to avoid making something terrible can sometimes put me in a mental prison where I keep chipping away at a drawing until I no longer know what I am looking at.

What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

In general, I like letting young artists in middle school, and high school know that I wasn’t very good at art at their age (I really wasn’t, I didn’t have the same resources they have now, and I didn’t have any perspective on what it takes to have a career in art, it’s a different world). Kids have come to me at conventions with their work for critique and advice, and I have to tell them that they’re already miles ahead of what I could make at their age. I have to tell them that it’s okay if they can’t make what all the professionals make online, to know that they have SO much time ahead of them to work at what they love. If you love making art, do it often, study art throughout history, and over time you’ll be able to create everything your heart desires.

What is something other people find hard to draw that you find enjoyable?

I have no idea. Sometimes it feels like drawing anything is suffering, even if you like what you’re making.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@loish has been consistently inspiring me since my days in high school. Every new painting has so much grace and power and is so excellent to look at. Her skill in shape and form seems limitless, and I hope to someday achieve even a small fraction of her understanding of art. Seeing her new work on my timeline also makes my dopamine spike, so I’m always looking forward to updates from her.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @tinypaint and follow their webcomic, Ava’s Demon, over at avasdemon.com.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #webcomics #michelle fus #ava's demon

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toskarin · 1 year

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me, watching extremely high budget cg in chainsaw man: I don't know how I feel. I know it's not cheap, but it feels like something is being lost here. it's not like this much sakuga would otherwise be possible, but how much did we sacrifice in the more subtle, quiet moments to achieve this dynamic action? this whole series feels like a "60fps ai interpolation" was applied to the script itself, with the pacing being drained out of something that was literally applauded for its unique pacing. I'm checking out until I see a reason to bother again

me, watching bocchi become a crude 3d model and slam into a wall of cubes in an unrendered preview animation: this is some of the most inventive animation I've ever seen. I can't think of the last time I saw an adaptation that stood so strongly beside its source material, proving itself to be not just a more widely accessible version, but a beautiful piece of art with completely distinct merit of its own. a shining star in a season full of great releases

#this is framed like a shitpost but it's also my excuse to post two reviews in one post lol

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sidekick-hero · 2 months

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(steddie | teen | 1.2k | tags: rockstar!eddie, drummer!steve, secret relationship, part of @thefreakandthehair and @firefly-party and mine project pickup note | @steddielovemonth prompt love is staying in bed for five extra minutes because you can't tear yourself away from them just yet by @starryeyedjanai | art by Kei | story in the same verse by Lex | AO3)

Steve came to slowly, like swimming through molasses, his mind caught somewhere between dreaming and being awake. In his dream, he had been lying in the sun, his head cushioned in Eddie's lap, Eddie's fingers running through his hair, humming a soft melody Steve had never heard before.

Slowly, the melody changes to the sound of soft snoring, and the soft thing under his head isn't Eddie's lap, it's his chest, gently rising and falling with each snore. Steve presses his smile into the warm skin beneath him at the thought of Eddie's face when he tells him he snores.

Some things are worth waiting for, though, and he knows the perfect moment to reveal this particular piece of information will come.

He has no idea what time it is. Judging by the morning light filtering into the room, it's just after sunrise, the sun's rays piercing through the blinds and casting a warm, golden glow that gradually fills Steve's hotel room.

Moving as carefully as he can, he cranes his neck to check the aged alarm clock on the bedside table. It tells him that he was right, it's 7:58 a.m., and the sun has risen just minutes before him. The light filtering in is soft and diffused, making the colors seem muted yet rich, with shades of pale orange, pink, and yellow dancing across the surfaces. Long shadows stretch out elegantly, accentuating the contours of furniture and objects in the room.

It's Steve's favorite time of day. There's a sense of quiet serenity in this early morning moment as the world slowly awakens. It offers a brief respite before the hustle and bustle of the day begins.

These days, early mornings hold an even more special place in his heart because it's the only time of day he can just look at Eddie.

Sometimes Steve thinks Eddie is like a hummingbird, always moving until all his energy is used up and he falls into a deep slumber that almost looks like he's dead to the world. It allows Steve to soak him up undisturbed and unabashed. His fingers carefully exploring the hills and valleys of hard muscle and soft flesh, he can drink in the swirling ink on Eddie's pale skin.

It's such a stark contrast from the rest of the day.

Eddie often seems driven. By the perceived expectations of others, by his own fears of falling short. By his own demons, which Steve has only glimpsed. But as the darkness of the night gives way to a new day, Eddie looks at ease.

It's probably too soon to think, but Steve hopes it's because he's now sharing Eddie's bed. That Eddie feels safe with him, safe enough to let go of all the things that plague his beautiful but sometimes overwhelmingly loud mind.

That's why it pains Steve to be the one to wake Eddie from his peaceful slumber and bring him back to reality. But they have a sound check at 9:15 because the venue has had some problems lately and they need to make sure everything goes off without a hitch tonight. This whole tour means too much to them, to Eddie, for it not to be perfect.

Pressing a gentle kiss just above where Steve can feel the steady beating of Eddie's heart, he softly calls Eddie's name. Not surprisingly, nothing happens, so another kiss follows the first, this time on Eddie's collarbone.

"Eddie, c'mon," he tries again, this time closer to Eddie's ear, eliciting a soft murmur. "We have to get up, the soundcheck -"

"Mm, they can check the sound without us," his - Eddie's - voice comes in a slightly drawn out tone. "Don't wanna get up."

Eddie, obviously not fully awake yet, wraps his arms around Steve and buries his face in Steve's hair.

"I know, ba-" Steve stumbles over the pet names that want to come out more and more now that they're so much closer than when he first started touring with Corroded Coffin. "I know. But we can grab a big coffee with enough sugar in it to put an elephant into a sugar coma, and when the check is done, we can come back to the hotel and sneak into your room and I can make it worth your while."

Steve's tone is low, almost a purr, as he says this. The others don't know about them yet, although Steve thinks that at least Robin and Chrissy have their suspicions. And Jeff has been watching them more closely as well. He's sure that they'll tell them soon, but first they want to enjoy getting to know each other this way, without their friends getting involved.

"Five more minutes and I will make it worth your while. Whaddya say, big boy?"

Before Steve can answer, most likely telling Eddie no, we're going to be late and how are you going to explain that to the others, Eddie rolls them both over until Steve lands on his back with a soft umph. Above him, Eddie is smiling down at him, suddenly much more awake than seconds before.

"Hi," he says, nudging Steve's nose with his own.

Steve doesn't even try to fight the dopey smile, even as he rolls his eyes at Eddie trying to get what he wants by playing dirty. It's so Eddie, just like the wolfish grin on his face.

"I'll make this the best five minutes of your life, Harrington. Scout's honor."

Steve snorts. "Scout's honor? I doubt you ever talked to a scout in your life."

"Oh yeah. In fact, I'm sleeping with one. And I'm about to kiss one before I rock his world."

"See, that's where you're wrong."

"Is that so?"

This makes Steve laugh out loud. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it," Eddie replies, then hesitates as his choice of words seems to register with him.

Before the moment between them ends in awkwardness, Steve leans in to kiss Eddie on the nose. "How did you know I was a Boy Scout?"

Steve's distraction works, and the worry in Eddie's eyes is replaced by mischief. "Just a guess, but good to know."

"Ass."

"I have it on good authority that you like my ass," Eddie teases, and Steve has to agree. He really does. As much as he likes everything else about Eddie. How much is becoming a problem.

Instead of saying any of these things, Steve looks over at the alarm clock, which now reads 08:04. He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. "I think your five minutes are up, and I have to say, not the world-rocking I was expecting, Munson."

"Oh you..." Eddie growls before swooping in to capture Steve's lips in a deep kiss. It turns into another, and another, the dim light in the room growing brighter around them as they become lost in each other.

Eddie makes it to sound check just in time, while Steve is ten minutes late, carrying five cups of coffee. He hopes no one notices the bright grin Eddie flashes with the first sip of his overtly sweet coffee, or the wink he gives Steve.

A promise is a promise, and Steve intends to keep them all when it comes to Eddie.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #drummer steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #day 16 #love is staying in bed for five extra minutes because you can't tear yourself away from them just yet #my writing #pickup note

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leog4u · 1 month

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Game Design and Porn Pt. 1

or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever

Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.

So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.

Define "porn game" for me, Leo.

There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.

Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.

The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.

Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?

There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.

I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?

Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)

So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.

You get to watch porn when you lose?

To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.

The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.

What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!

Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.

What if we made the porn actual rewards?

Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?

There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.

Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.

Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.

So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.

Plot milestones

In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.

Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”

Rewarding exploration

By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!

So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.

If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?

So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.

That sounds excessive

Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.

I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.

Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?

Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.

Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.

It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.

Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.

So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.

To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.

”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”

It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.

This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources

It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.

(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)

#Leo Gab #game design #game dev

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monstrifex-art · 8 months

Text

Howls in the Heights

Art and story by me, for the TF anthology Shifts from the Shelves.

Story:

Smoke hung in the air like an unanswered question. Between the blotchy wallpaper and the liquor-stained floorboards, the poker room couldn’t accurately be described as “nice.” But Donovan owed me a favor, so for the time being this space in the back of his bar was mine. The faint music of a jazz combo leaked under the door, distant and a little sad. I stretched, twine running through my fingers as I looped it around the tack pinning a balding man’s mug-shot to the wall.

“That one’s kind of handsome,” Rita mused from behind me.

I scoffed and shot a glance over my shoulder. Rita stood close enough that I could smell her perfume. She was watching me map my thoughts on the wall with casual amusement, her dark eyes skimming lightly over the collection of newspaper clippings and photographs.

“Maybe he was. But he’s not looking so good anymore.” I uncapped a pen and drew a large red X over his face. “Handyman Wharton was a real piece of work. But no one deserves to die like that. These murders… in all my years of investigating, I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Mmm, sounds to me like he had it coming,” she breathed as she leaned her chin on my shoulder. Rita was beautiful in a way that made it hard to think straight. She had wavy hair that fell like a black curtain on one side of her face, eyelids and lips done up in a matching smoky coal. Tonight she wore a cocktail dress that poured smoothly down her curves. The thin fabric left very little to the imagination.

Rita and I had crossed paths in a couple chance encounters over the last couple weeks. She had a habit of turning up just as things were getting interesting, and making just about everything a little more complicated. For some reason she seemed to take a shine to me. We’d started spending nights together, and she proved as enthusiastic between the sheets as she was on the dance floor. Maybe more so.

“I’m getting close,” I murmured softly. “All these bodies—there’s a pattern here. Crime barons, crooked cops… someone is making a power play for this city’s underworld. Whoever they are, they can’t hide from the truth.”

Rita slid off my back and glided over to the card table where she’d left her lighter. She sat, one leg crossed over the other, and took a long drag from the mouthpiece of her cigarette holder.

“I like watching you think, Detective. It’s like watching an old car struggle up a steep road.”

“This car still has some miles left in it,” I chuckled. “See here—Wharton was a regular at the Glass Eye. You remember, where we met at the craps table. And here, if my sources are right, Wharton was smuggling ammo for the Pinstripe gang. They’re based out of Turnstile, where you took me to see that boxing match. Hell, if I didn’t know any better Rita I’d say…”

Something cold ran down my spine. Old instincts flared to life, telling me I’d just stumbled into something big. My eyes flitted from headline to headshot, arcs of twine adding up in an intricate equation. My thoughts clicked like a typewriter, checking hunch against evidence, step-by-step. It was impossible but… the data points aligned. How could…

“Ahhh… starting to put the pieces together, are we, darling?” Rita’s voice found me from far away, as if I was at the bottom of a well. I turned to face her, limbs numb.

“You…”

She smiled, white teeth flashing in the smoky gloom. “Of course it was me, dear. It was all me. All along.”

“But… the bodies. They were torn apart. How did you…”

She laughed in that pitying little way she did when she knew something I didn’t. The melodic sound of it almost made me want to laugh with her.

“Mhmhmm aww, you still look so confused! Don’t worry sweet thing, this one is above your pay grade.” She stood with a little flourish, like a magician’s assistant. “Here. Perhaps a demonstration will make you understand.”

A part of my mind, not sure which, suddenly sounded alarm bells. An instinct to run pumped through me, made my heart beat fast and my perception sharpen. Rita was just standing there, but some awareness deep in my hindbrain was screaming danger. Predator. Flee.

I gritted my teeth. Not yet. Not when I was so close to the answer.

A shiver ran across Rita’s pale skin, starting at her back and working out to her limbs. I could see her hair stand on end. She stretched, luxuriating in the movement. Her lips parted, and a long sigh streamed from her throat like a release of pressurized air. “Hahhhh… You’re about to see who I really am, dearest.”

A quiet snapping noise, then another. Dozens of meaty clicks inside her like the sound of dislocating joints. Rita pitched forward, bending double in a violent motion that knocked the card table behind her slamming to the floor. She gasped, lurching upright with an ecstatic grin on her face. Her eyes! They had changed, darker around the edges and brighter in the middle. Her pupils reflected light like burning headlights. I couldn’t look away.

“All the rest, it’s an… affectation. Like a favorite dress that I wear around town.”

Her elbow-length gloves were starting to tear. I could see dark fur through the rips, black claws cutting neatly through the satin fingertips. She groaned, and I could hear the timbre of her voice roughening. Something cracked in her legs. Her feet shifted, pushing her taller inch by inch as they extended into long sinewy paws.

Her dress clung tightly to her curves as her frame broadened. The cloth strained, her collar line deepening as the flesh of her shoulders and chest rippled with new bulk. I could see her nipples pressing through the black cloth, erect with sensation.

She gestured to the dress, to her glittering necklace and sheer stockings. “This, all these pretty things. It used to be me… Gruuhh.” Her voice faltered as an involuntary growl rattled through her. She smiled sweetly, regaining her composure. “But not anymore.”

The fabric gave with a loud tearing noise as a large tail, black and shaggy, thrust out behind her. She took a few balancing steps forward, then reached up to brush the hair out of her face with one clawed hand. Her breathing was coming deep and heavy now, hot fog mingling with smoke in curls around her smile.

“Don’t get me wrong, darling. I do love our little song-and-dances. Being the stunning vision on your arm is a treat! But the real me can’t dazzle a cocktail party in quite the same way.”

She grimaced, and I could see her teeth lengthening into interlocking fangs. Fur crept down her face, pressing in at the edges of her cheeks and trailing down her nose.

She blinked and stared deep into me with those burning eyes. “I clean up pretty nice, wouldn’t you say? I certainly had you fooled!” She cackled with a wild abandon that approached madness.

Her shaking laughter choked off into gasps as she convulsed with another surge of growth. The wet sounds of her bones rearranging were almost drowned out by the noise of her widening hips and shoulders finally tearing her dress to ribbons. I could just see her face masked in shadow, distorting and stretching as her mouth extended into a snout full of pointed lupine teeth. Rivulets of saliva dripped from her black lips.

I stumbled away instinctively, felt the pins of my map wall dig into my back. Stray clues drifted to the floor like leaves. I could feel my cheeks burning hot as I tried to look away, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from her nakedness as it was torn free before me.

Between gasping breaths, she laughed violently. “YOUR FACE!” she snarled, muzzle curling into a feral grin. “You weren’t this SHY when we MADE LOVE LAST NIGHT!”

She was right, of course. I had seen every inch of her in our evenings together. But there was something about seeing her this way—it was rawer, deeper, more intimate and carnal. I was enraptured with a fascination that had never possessed me during our previous dalliances. I couldn’t understand it. I was hopelessly lost in the rhythm of her shifting flesh. Why? The scene before me was horrific, so why was I feeling this way?

“You’re… I just… I…” I stammered, struggling to put words in order.

“You still WANT me, DON’T YOU?” She was shouting now. “I can smell your desire… What is it you always say? YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM THE TRUTH, DETECTIVE!”

That was it. I was more attracted to her now than I ever had been before. What was wrong with me? Why did my heart feel like it was about to pound its way out of my chest? I shut my eyes, turning away with a strangled cry.

“I don’t understand! Please… I can’t, I don’t…”

“LOOK AT ME, DARLING.”

I blinked toward her, seeing only blurred glimpses. I saw the fur bristling from muscle-laden thighs, the tattered sweat-soaked remnants of her dress stretched over her rippling abdominals. God, parts of her were still so human. She wasn’t an animal or a person - she was something monstrous in-between. She was a terrifying beast, but she was still recognizably… her.

“LOOK AT ME!” she roared, and the room shook. I cried out, and opened my eyes to behold her entirely.

She was beautiful.

She was so beautiful it hurt.

I stepped toward her, and fell into her arms as she embraced me. We fell together to a gasping heap on the floor. We began anew, pressing ourselves into one another with bestial fervor.

The case would have to go on a little while longer.

#art #monster #Rita #werewolf #transformation #story

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kulapti · 8 months

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Aug 2023, bookbinding of The Silent Isle Imbowers by Tharkuun.

I’m sooo so so pleased to finally share this! I have been actively working on this for many months and waited until Tharkuun received her copy before posting so the final result would be a surprise.

-----------About this bookbinding under the cut

This binding has been one of the more elaborate pieces I have attempted so far. This has been my first binding where I (1) made three copies of a piece at once, (2) used a modified a historical illustration, (3) collaborated directly with another artist on the decorative elements, (4) finished matching art for the cover and title page, and (5) layered paint and heat-transfer vinyl for the covers. These are also (6) the first non-tiny books I have made with this style of hinge and cover attachment.

Pretty much immediately after I first read this story I felt I had to make myself a copy of this. I had a strong mental image of a vintage-looking cover for a fairy tale, with a deceptively simple design of flowers on the cover, probably with fancy metallic accents, the kind of thing you’d find in an interesting used bookstore with no summary, no text on the back, no dust jacket, just the flowers and maybe a title. I’m going to make a separate post about making this cover design a reality because oh man has it been a journey lol! I designed and drew the digital art for the cover (digital because of the cut and application method), as well as the corresponding title page illustration (pencil and dip pen, scanned, title added digitally).

When I asked Tharkuun about it she was excited to suggest I get in touch with quillingwords, who generously agreed to collaborate with me! Among her talents quilling writes calligraphy, and hand wrote both the book title and chapter headers for me to incorporate into my plans. Check OUT those chapter headers! So fancy! A font could never!! Quilling has also been very encouraging and let me yell about this project in dms for months so the final result could be a surprise for Tharkuun. Thank u so much quillingwords, your calligraphy adds invaluable amounts of swag to this project.

I was going to do some kinda neat font for the chapter headers, but quilling’s work is too cool for that and I decided to use a modified piece of a historical illustration instead. The illustration also happens to be cool as heck: I was browsing the Artstor database (an academic quality resource available for free via Jstor, my beloved) and found E. N. Neureuther's 1836 gorgeous etching for etching of the fairy tale Briar Rose, an illustration made for a printing of a Brothers Grimm recorded German fairy tale with Sleeping Beauty elements. Much to my delight this illustration not only matches the general look I wanted but is actually relevant to the story, itself a Sleeping Beauty spinoff.

Slightly less stylistically consistent are the endpapers, which are prints of two different paintings by Arnold Böcklin: Isle of the Dead (1883) in the front and Isle of Life (1888). The first painting had occurred to me as an excellent visual to go with the story, and Tharkuun and I discussed this and agreed that pairing it with the related later, more optimistic piece was too thematically appropriate to resist.

I had fun and learned a lot making these books and I am very pleased with the result!!

Materials: Archival bookboard, cardstock, cotton cheesecloth mull, archival PVA glue, linen thread coated in beeswax, paper cord, red cotton embroidery floss. Blue cotton backed with archival paper, acrylic paint, machine cut black and gold heat-transfer vinyl. Laser printed text and illustrations. Metallic scrapbooking paper.

#artists on tumblr #bookbinding #ficbinding #fanbinding #dreamling #my art #here there be fandom #the sandman #the silent isle imbowers #tharkuun #described #id in alt text #pls imagine me screaming continuously about this project for oh idk 4 or 5 months? oh I can make shiny books??#im not allowed to @ people in this post apparently #links and fic rec in reblog #laying on the floor I found a few missing words I must have deleted on accident while fixing formatting #poppies (Papaver somniferum) and mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris)#tailfeather binding

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milf-murdock · 3 days

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Captain

Younger!Captain John Price x Reader

Summary: Price just got promoted to captain, and then inadvertently discovers he really likes it when you call him by his new title. Like, he really likes it. How do we celebrate this new promotion and self discovery?? By fucking in an elevator of course! Warnings: SMUT!! So much fucking smut. Established relationship. P in V. Oral (male receiving). Fingering (female receiving). Fucking in an elevator ?? Listen this is just so fucking filthy. Porn with some plot. But also of course I had to end it with fluff because I don’t know when to stop. I don’t fucking know how elevators work. We go with it.

Also, check out this beautiful piece of art by @ wombywoo for the most beautiful Captain Price photo inspiration

“I knew you’d look good in these new dress blues,” you smirked, brushing off invisible lint from John’s jacket with your spare hand as you admired the glint of the many medals and honorifics that decorated your husband’s chest—including the three shiny gold stars that represented his new rank. Your other hand held a pair of high heels as uncomfortable as they were stunning and you had rid your aching feet of the offending items as soon as you and John were in the relative privacy of the elevator, heading up to your hotel suite. The swanky hotel was a little surprise of yours to John, knowing he wouldn’t want to travel all the way back home after a long day of ceremony and celebration.

You and John had just left the ceremony honoring his latest promotion to Captain. It was a night full of pride, honor, and maybe just a few too many glasses of wine post-ceremony, if you were being honest.

“I was under the impression you thought I look good in everything,” John drawled, his lips twitching upwards, a hint of a smile gracing his face.

“Oh is that so…Captain Price,” you playfully quipped and watched as John’s lips curved upwards even more, a slight flush creeping up his neck.

You opened your mouth to comment again on his new rank, enjoying the momentary power trip–it wasn’t often you could incite this kind of reaction from your lover, when a soft ding warned you that the elevator had reached your floor. You smothered your frown, taking a step off the elevator before stumbling over the silken hem of your gown. A strong hand gripped your elbow to steady you, another reaching around to rest firmly on your waist. Before you could attempt another step, a force abruptly pulled you backwards, your back pressing against John’s muscled torso. His warm breath caressed your neck as he dipped his head low. “Say it again,” he all but growled, his lips ghosting your neck in a way that sent heat straight to your core. You couldn’t help the slight arch of your back in response, noting with pure satisfaction the reaction you were garnering from John. You could feel his hardened arousal through the pristine dress slacks, and your cunt clenched in response.

“Well now, love, here’s the thing,” you tease, pressing your backside against his hardened member and relishing John’s sharp intake of breath in response. “I don’t take orders from you.” You felt the rumble deep in his chest as he took the bait, his fingers all but slamming the keypad to shut the doors to the elevator. Confusion flitted across your face, but John didn’t even hesitate as he forcefully pressed the bright red stop button to halt the elevator completely.

A brief alarm sounded, followed by a robotic voice that was no doubt meant to sound soothing as it reassured passengers that the elevator had been stopped and help would be arriving soon. Understanding began to dawn as John released his hold on you, and you turned to see his familiar blue eyes peering down at you, ravenous.

“If you don’t take orders from me,” John’s voice was low and steady, a hint of that tameless lust just under the surface. “Then please, do tell me, who do you take orders from?” He took a step closer, towering above you with a piercing glare. Reflexively, you took a step back. Well, tried to–the elevator door pressed up against you, and you weren’t sure if it was the sudden coolness of the metal or the heat of your husband's gaze that caused the shiver that shot up your spine.

“Well, that would be…” you swallowed hard, wracking your brain for a name, any name. “Umm,” you attempted to buy yourself time, but you felt as though every coherent thought you’d ever had eddied out of your mind, a ravenous need overtaking your entire body. All you could think about is John and how damned good he looked in that fucking uniform. As if reminding yourself, your eyes trailed downward, soaking in every last detail of his new dress uniform. Your gaze stopped short upon seeing the evident outline of his arousal and you instinctively bit down on your bottom lip to conceal your moan.

John took another step to you, quickly closing the small distance between you two. You felt his firm grip on your chin, forcing your head to tilt up and meet his gaze. Passion burned in his eyes and you felt the last of your resolve melting away. Fuck being witty right now, you thought to yourself, I need this. As if he read your mind, John’s lips crashed against yours and your entire body ignited with need. Your fingers tangled in his hair and every inch of your body pressed up against him. John’s hands gracefully slid down your hips, cupping the upper back of your thighs. You took the sign for what it was, giving a little jump as he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He didn’t even break the kiss, just pressed your back against the doors of the elevator, grinding his erection into your core. The friction was practically electric and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as you break the kiss. You leaned your head against the steel frame and John’s lips moved to your newly exposed neck, sucking and nipping the sensitive flesh. He took the thin strap of your gown between his teeth and before you could so much as utter a warning, he ripped it straight from the gown. Without its integral support, the delicate satin of the bust fell down, exposing one of your breasts.

“God damn it, John, that was expensive,” you chastised halfheartedly, your chest rapidly rising and falling as he once again ground into you. As if in apology, John peppered kisses across your exposed breast before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. Your complaints died in your throat as your body became alight with pleasure. As he continued his ministrations, he pinned you against the wall with his body, freeing one hand to gently slide your remaining strap down your arm, exposing the other breast in a manner completely opposite to its torn counterpart. John switched his attention to the other breast, gingerly taking your other nipple into his mouth. He took a moment to adjust your position against the elevator, one hand cupping your ass as the other hand slid between your bodies. For the second time that night you heard John’s sharp intake of breath as he brushed your bare self.

“Are you really telling me you didn’t wear underwear to such a formal event?” he breathed out, barely concealing his moan at finding you bare and ready for him. “For fuck’s sake,” he breathed out, “you are so wet for me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a slight breathy laugh. “I told you I like the uniform,” you panted before your sassy remarks were replaced by cries of pleasure as two of John’s fingers plunged into your aching cunt.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer.

John. John. John.

Your body was lost in the passion, his lips on your breasts, his fingers curling towards himself, hitting that spot that makes you see fucking stars. He’s relentless, devouring you–mind, body, and soul. Before you knew it, you were on the brink of pure bliss. “John,” you gasped, “I’m going to come,” you warned, though you knew it wasn’t necessary. Knowing your husband and all your years together, he knows exactly when you’re on the edge just as well as he knows exactly how to pleasure you to get you there. He is as in tune with your moans and sighs of pleasure as he is with his own heartbeat.

His fingers picked up the pace, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Come for me, my love,” John purred in your ear, and the low timbre of his voice combined with the heat of his words had you tumbling over the edge of pleasure, his name on your lips as stars crossed your vision.

You slowly drifted back to reality as John pressed soft kisses across your chest, trailing up your neck and back to your lips. He set you down on shaky legs, supporting you with his strong grip.

Having finally caught your breath, you took a second to take stock of the sight before you: John’s dark hair, once perfectly styled, now a mess, the ironed jacket now crumpled and partially undone, and worse of all, those brand new dress pants now clearly soaked through with a mix of his precum and your juices. The sight had your mouth watering. You fell to your knees before the captain, hands reaching up to unfasten his belt. It fell to the floor with a satisfying clank, but you didn’t even flinch.Your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip as you oh-so-slowly began to free John's cock.

A low hiss escaped John’s lips as you took his bulging member into your hand. Your hand glided across the surface, eyes drinking in the veritable feast before you. No matter how many times you had been with John, his size always took you by surprise. The length, the girth, the thick vein that ran along the underside. Sliding back the uncut skin, your attention shifted to the deep red head, your thumb swiping a bead of precum from the tip. John’s gasp only encouraged you to lean forward and take the tip into your mouth, his fingers instantly tangling in your hair. Your mouth slid down his length, struggling to take as much of him in as you could. You used your hand to take whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth, and your mouth and hand worked in tandem to pleasure him. John’s quiet moans and growls of pleasure only spurred you on, and you worked to take more of him in your mouth. Only once the head of his cock hit the back of your throat did you stop, looking up at him with tears in your eyes, mascara trailing down your cheek. His loving gaze peered down at you, his lips ajar as he panted with need.

The sight of you, on your knees before him, looking up at him from under your dark lashes, his cock resting in your mouth–it almost sent him over the edge. It took everything he had to pull himself out of your mouth. You sat on your knees, looking up at him as he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. A brief moment of uncertainty flashed across your face, “Was it…not good for…” you trailed off, slightly confused why he stopped you. You weren’t one to brag, but you certainly hadn’t had any complaints before. Before you could even finish the sentence, John pressed a finger to your lips. “You’re perfect,” he breathed out. “I wasn’t going to last like that,” he finished, a small smile at the edge of his lips as he helped lift you to your feet. “And I’m not done with you,” he growled as his lips crashed against yours once more, but this time there was even more urgency in his kiss. He pressed your back against the elevator wall, sliding the skirt of your dress up your hips so he could lift you up again. Your legs wrapped around his waist, causing his throbbing member to brush up against your soaking wet cunt. Biting back a groan, John repositioned his hips to line up with your entrance. With a growl, he slid home, your earlier orgasm helping his cock slide in with ease. You can feel and hear the groan deep in John’s throat as he bottoms out, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

John’s forehead dipped to touch yours, his unsteady breathing matching yours. His hips froze as he waited for you to adjust. You waited a few beats, relishing the delicious stretch, before you gave a nod of approval. Supporting you with his hands, he pulled out, all the way to the tip, before slamming home. Your head fell back to the cool metal wall as you gasped in pleasure. John continued the action, hips colliding with yours, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you. Your moans got louder, joining in the symphony of your bodies slapping against one another, the soft beat of your body against the wall of the elevator as John railed into you.

It was too much. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, and you didn’t think you could take much more. “Yes,” you cred out, “Yes, Fuck me, Captain,” you pant out, extra emphasis placed on his title. John’s hips stuttered at hearing that word on your lips once more . With a growl he slammed into you even harder. “Again,” his voice so low it sent a shiver straight to your cunt.

“Please,” you begged, as his hips piston in and out of you with abandon, veritably nailing you to the wall with his cock. He hit that delicious spot deep within you and every thrust pulled you closer and closer to bliss. “Captain,” you cried out before biting John’s shoulder as your orgasm crests, washing over you in endless waves of pleasure. You bit down harder than intended, but you don’t have time to regret it, not as John loses all semblance of control, thrusting into you with abandon. He thrust into you once, twice, and a final time as he came with a grunt of pleasure and his hips stuttered as he flooded you with his come.

Your breaths were ragged, foreheads pressed against each other, feeling every twitch of his cock deep inside you. After a few beats, John withdrew, gently lowering you to the ground on legs that felt less than stable. He made sure to tuck himself back into his uniform and adjust the remaining strap on your dress. You kept your grip on him, balancing yourself, as you felt his hot seed start to drip down your leg. An attempted step forward proved to be too much in your addled state, your leg threatening collapse as soon as you tried to step away from John. Without a word, John scooped you up into his arms, just like on your wedding night, before pressing a series of buttons on the elevator keypad. The elevator gave a small jolt back to life, and you found yourself thankful that John was holding onto you so tightly. Like nothing happened, John stepped off the lift and crossed you over to your suite.

You dozed in and out of consciousness in your blissed-out, post-orgasmic state, but came to as John gingerly laid you on the bed. He helped slide you out of your dress, and you made a mental note to berate him in the morning for ruining your dress, already mapping out when he would take you shopping for its replacement. You watched in silence as John disassembled his uniform and set it out almost reverently before crawling into bed next to you. Rolling onto your side, you laid your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I am so proud of you, Captain Price,” you murmured. His hand trailed slow, lazy circles over your arm and down your back, pulling you closer into him. “Everything I do is for you,” John replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, “I love you.”

#john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price x reader #captain John price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #captain price #john price imagine #captain john price x you

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coentinim · 18 days

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Crime scene

ADULT + DARK CONTENT - MDNI !

JPM is beautiful in the act of killing, how can his wife not appreciate that?

Contains: descriptions of murder (not of reader), gore, blood, sexual content (at a fresh crime scene), you are (almost) as deranged as him, you are married to him, dead dove - please feast <3

I am not responsible for what you see on the internet!

Edit: forgot to tag people T_T

@fear-is-truth @taintandviolent @feefymo @slutforgarlogan @silverzoomies @yandereunsolved @maeriavizsendingjpmdose @evanpetersbf @carniv0reev

You heard it again. Those screams, those ear piercing, mind shattering screams of some poor soul being gutted alive. Supposedly, the walls were soundproof, but you could hear well and clear the wails of another one of James' victims in the next room. Perhaps the wall connecting your rooms was the only one he didn't line with asbestos... and on purpose for sure. He wants you to hear.

A young woman - no older than 25, judging by the noise - was currently being sliced open slowly and deliberately by your husband's hand. After only being married to him for a few weeks, you could already tell apart the screams of terror before a quick death and pained, tortured wails of a slow one. And during this time, you've grown accustomed to this peculiar hobby of his, even fond of it at times. His bloodlust and cruelty were undeniably fascinating, and having the honour of being the only person he never wished to harm was something to cherish. His debauchery was just contagious, really!

Curiosity had overcome you, and you decided to check what exactly was your beloved doing as he worked. And oh, were you amazed at the sight when you entered his room.

The screaming was so much louder and clearer here, begs for mercy - even for a quicker, painless death - made for a terrifying noise, but you paid them no mind. Oh no, you focus was on your husband only. He was a true artist, the way he worked the woman's body like it was an instrument, a work of art for art's sake, a horrible perversion of what a piece should look like. A bloody image it was - James was cutting all over her skin, ignoring the wails, and carving flesh with quick, steady strokes of the knife. You couldn't help but come closer, almost beside him, and you made your presence known by walking into his line of sight. He raised his eyes from the half-dead girl to you and you noticed his expression. He did not look human, not even one bit. His eyes were widened, pupils engorged and cheeks flushed bright red. He wore the mask, the strange mask you didn't know the purpose of that made him look like a horrible monster mothers warn their children about. He did not wear the apron he usually did, though. His white shirt (one of the informal, "not as good ones", you recalled) was half unbuttoned and stained crimson with the explosions of the woman's blood. In the act, he looked like a beast. He was panting when he stopped skinning the woman to gaze at you.

"My darling, I didn't- hah, disturb you, did I?"

His voice from behind the metal and leather sounded different, too. Savage. Inhuman.

"No, Jimmy, I was just curious..."

You gazed at the wailing woman on the table. Dear god, she was a mess... her arms and thighs were a mosaic of cuts, some more refined and artistic, some deep and rough, careless. She was almost bare, her under dress riding up enough to only cover her breasts, and only a small pair of knickers on her bottom. You hummed in approval; James listened to your rules against seeing his victims naked unless necessary. But you quickly turned your attention to her stomach, because that was certainly a sight to behold! Around the navel, there were a few deep lacerations, one of them definitely deep enough to penetrate muscle and cut into the intestine. The blood flowing out in rhythm with the erratic pulses of her heart covered her pristine underwear, making her look downright pornographic. It wasn't hard to understand his savage interests in such moments - the bloody, shining gash on her stomach was a curious sight, to say the least. It truly looked nasty; that must be why she was writhing in pain so much. She seemed to beg for your help, but it was unintelligible - besides, there was no saving her now, she had lost too much blood. Not that you would have saved her otherwise - she would just run to the nearest police officer and get you and your husband arrested. Accepting James might be hard at times, but seeing him executed while people leered at his undeniably painful demise would have been much harder. He was hard to love, and hard to let go of.

You trailed your hand over her split stomach, ignoring the thrashing and protests.

"May I?", you asked.

James' eyes lightened up even more, humanity mixing with the animal in him.

"Would I ever deny my darling wife to share my pleasures?", he replied in his syrupy voice distorted by the metal mask, the terrifying sound making your head spin. He was the only one who could scare you yet make you feel so safe.

You kept looking him in the eyes, barely visible under the eye protection, while slowly putting two fingers into the woman's wound. You were terrified, but you just wanted to tease your James just a bit, just a tad... It was wonderful. The quiet, pained screech, the blood exploding under your fingertips and the pulse of her insides. It felt like touching something slimy, is that what James felt upon fingering your cunt? He absolutely adores doing it, and now you see why; the texture is nothing short of divine. Your ministrations had a great effect on your husband, as he started panting and gripped the edge of the table the woman was sprawled on. Oh, he was hungry like a wolf at that moment. You let go of the victim's body after just two seconds, slightly disgusted with yourself, observing your bloodied hand and James' face. It was hard to see anything but his nose and eyebrows through the mask, but you knew he was more aroused than ever. In fact, you feared him. He was terrifying in his murderous attire, even more so now that his body language radiated pure hunger. You held his killer gaze for a few long seconds until something made him glance away. Right. The woman.

To your surprise, she was still making noises despite the blood loss. James walked right past you, close to her face, and held her cheek almost tenderly. Her gaze was unfocused, but she tried to squirm away from his touches. In response he just gripped her chin tight and tutted at her hazy thrashes. He raised his blade and sliced her neck open, so deep the blood exploded in his face. She went quiet rather quickly after that.

You saw him kill a dozen times, yet it always stunned you just how predatory it looked. His muscles taut, the vulgar display of vitality, as if he absorbed the life force of his newest victim.

Slowly, James turned to face you. He was dead silent, and at that angle you couldn't see his eyes. Your instinct told you to back away, so, naturally, you stepped forward, your thighs slick with arousal from the fear and guilt.

The growl that came from his throat was definitely unexpected. But more surprising was his direct action - he gripped your shoulders tightly and led you into the chaise-lounge next to the table. He pushed you hard onto it, making you gasp, and he pressed your shoulders to the soft pillows as if you were to be another victim. That particular thought went straight to your pussy.

"James... maybe after you clean up after yourself?", you suggested in the most sultry voice you could. Ah, did you have to tease him so much? He was impatient, after all! The tension from the kill had to be resolved somehow.

"Nonsense, dove-" he was already pulling up your gown, "I need to take my fellow murderess... now "

You bit your lip, nervous. Were you really a murderess?... that girl was already half dead when you touched her wound! You were merely an accomplice, and...

Oh, you forgot you didn't wear any panties until you felt the cold air hit your pussy. He gripped your thighs and left blood handprints all over, making you forget your guilt. Your dress was all red now, too, as he used it as some sort of napkin to clean himself after his meal. He was savage today, but even now he remembered to at least taste you before taking you. He attempted to take off his mask and you whined.

"James... no, keep it"

He chuckled darkly. Then, he spoke with his metallic, leathery voice:

"Oh? If that is to your tastes, dearest wife..."

He wasted no more time after that. He almost ripped the silky dress off in his hurry, and slipped out of his pants with an impatient growl. Oh, you looked like a prey ready to be ravaged. He groped you all over before sinking his painfully hard cock inside you, leaving bloody handprints on your waist and breasts and neck. You looked like a masterpiece of pain. You whined, the stretch was pretty painful despite your wetness. He looked like a feral beast above you; his terrifying mask making him look like a strange monster taking you all for himself. The thought felt so erotic you could barely stand it, and you whined. Oh, his girth felt so invigorating...

He fucked the same way he killed. Impatiently, roughly, and yet meticulously, both in control and completely out of it. His moans were distorted by the mask, and it felt as if he was all around you, he was in your brain as much as in your cunt. It felt divine, to be violated by that beastly killer, by your beloved husband. Sweet, honeymoon lovemaking with him was terrific, but the desecrating pace he treated you with right now was a feeling no other man could recreate. You gripped his shoulders, staining the back of his shirt with your bloodied fingers, bringing his body closer. Each thrust was punctuated by your obscene moans; he slid himself in at a slightly upward angle, hitting your sweet spot hard each time.

You whined and whined, and he slid his bloody fingers past your parted lips, making you taste his victim’s blood. Your guilt was all-encompassing, yet it felt so good to give in, even just once. Morality was for the stupid, uneducated folk, James used to say. Regulations, rules, faith; all of it is supposed to limit freedom of thought and action. You believed every word of his, no matter how ridiculous it all sounded in the context of his serial murders.

He always knew when you were close, always knew just how and when to toy with your pussy with his red hands and when to edge himself so you two finish at the same time. He had a thing for it, it felt like unity, like your bodies were truly one.

You thought he would never kill you, but he did it quite frequently. You died a little death many times with him, unravelling beautifully under his strong body, core exploding with spasms and locking his seed deep in you. You two came as one, him filling you up, making your mixed releases drip down and combine with all the blood. In this moment, you were his victim and he was your killer, taking you from life and lifting your soul up, or maybe dragging it down to hell, for a few seconds of blissful pleasure.

You always envied his victims. Oh to see his face as the last thing before you fade away, oh to feel him inside you as you pass! The blood all over your body, his mask and the body nearby made you feel such eroticism and guilt...

He pulled out with a whine and tucked himself into his pants, pulling your dress over your dirty body soon after. The casual nature of the situation made your head spin in confusion. That was it?... he can just get up like that, like nothing happened? You were panting, staring at his body, beautiful and shiny with sweat. He took his mask off, revealing a devilish grin.

“Miss Evers! Bring me fresh linens and draw a bath for my wife, would you?”

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