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luvsupa · 7 months ago

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LET’S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL. . .?

𝜗𝜚 summary: where jjk men want you at the wrong place and wrong time… feat. gojo, geto, choso, nanami (seperate).

tags: fem!reader, pwp,smut, (p in v), ōral sex (f! receiving), lactation kink .. (gojo), gojos a king and he’s OBESSED w you, public sex, car sex, riding, sub men (ish), dirty talk, praise, hair pulling, getting caught, mentions of pregnancy (nanami), slight bimbo reader x choso, ummm dunno what else to add … mdni

w.c: 5,3k

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS SOSOS MUCH FOR 2K AND 2.1K!! IM SO THANKFUL FOR ALL OF YOUUUUUU^^^ HERES A 2K SPECIAL FOR YOU GUYSS MWAAA <33

+ there might be errors errrrr….

GOJO SATORU

“gojo-sama,” the family in front of you scolds, trying to get his full attention. the royal family has come to your estate to propose a business alliance—a union with the well-known gojo clan.

gojo has you seated prettily on his lap on his golden cushioned throne, in full view of the royal family and advisors. halfway through the meeting, he loses interest, he has little concern for these meetings—all he truly wants is to be with you and your newborn daughter.

it was nearly impossible for him to focus, your scent envelops him, clouding his thoughts, leaving only you in his mind. his lower lip quivers as you shift against his hardening cock. he struggles to maintain composure but can’t resist trailing soft kisses along your neck. one large hand caresses your once pregnant belly while you fight to keep your gaze steady in front of the royal family.

your eyes flutter, heart racing as you realize he cannot possibly be doing this now. below, the murmurs of the guests fade away as his heated kisses press against your skin. he hums deeply, almost moaning with each kiss, savouring the softness of your body. his glossed lips leave marks along your neck, gleaming in the natural light, a clear display of his desire.

“ngh—’toru. . .continue. . . later,” you whisper, struggling to suppress a moan as gojo’s other hand kneads your plump breasts through the kimono. the soreness from weeks wroth of nursing makes each touch electric. the king below stares, while the guards exchange knowing glances, accustomed to gojo’s actions.

“gojo-sama, we ask that you—”

“hahh, look at that—you’re leaking,” gojo murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he watches your milk seep through the thin fabric of your kimono, a damp spot growing with each teasing stroke of his fingers over your sensitive nipple. your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes closing in embarrassment ,unable to face the audience.

shamelessly, gojo’s hand on your tummy snakes lower between your shaky thighs. he smiles knowingly as you’re bare underneath, warmth radiating from you. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s made you this wet, you blame it on hormonal imbalances.

gojo’s slender fingers part your swollen folds, sending shudders through your body with his icy touch as he rubs gentle circles on your nub. you moan, not caring how loud you are, overwhelmed by his fingers toying with your nipples and clit—all while numerous pairs of eyes remain glued to both of you.

“what’s gotcha’ this drenched, baby? have i not satisfied you enough?” gojo spills out nonsense, even though he satisfies you too much. he spoils you rotten, always going above and beyond—no matter when or where.

“tell me what i need to do, precious,” he begs as his fingers slide into your slick cunt. you both gasp, his long fingers sucked in tightly by your needy walls. your eyes flutter open to see your breasts leaking uncontrollably as he pinches and twists your poor nipples.

your hips buck wildly, greedily taking in more of his thick fingers as your walls cling tightly to him, massaging your sweet spot with every curl and press. you sob, breaths coming in ragged gasps, eyes glossy as you glance at the guests through blurred vision. each breath is a shaky exhale, mingling with soft whimpers as gojo’s cock throbs, pulsating with each of your desperate thrusts—it aches painfully with need. his fingers work relentlessly, coaxing more cries from your lips. your chest heaves with every breath, the sound of your panting filling the room.

“gojo-sama, take your wife out of here! she’s a clear disruption—” the king shouts, but falters as gojo’s icy gaze locks onto his, sending a chilling wave through him. fear creeps into the king’s eyes, and he immediately regrets his words.

in the blink of an eye, gojo places you gently onto the cushioned throne, your eyes fluttering in confusion as you look up to see him towering over you. before you can speak, he drops to his knees, his face inches from your drooling cunt.

he bunches up your kimono to your waist for better access, exposing your slickness that glimmersunder the harsh lights. just as gojo is about to devour you like a starved man, he hears footsteps retreating from the room.

without turning his head, his voice booms with unsettling authority, filling the space with an ominous weight.

“the first person who leaves will be beheaded.”

fear grips the room as every footstep halts. the tense silence makes it clear, all eyes are now fixed on you two, trapped in the suffocating stillness that follows.

and now, here gojo is, his tongue buried deep inside your stretchy walls, his frosty hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed a rosy pink. he lost himself the moment his lips met your pussy, consumed by an imhumane hunger.

your cunt is loud, the lewd sloshes echoing through the royalty room, disturbing the royal family's ears. your pussy spasms as his head shakes like a madman, his killer tongue curling and thrusting as deeply as he can reach. each movement sends shockwaves through you, and he revels in the chaos he's creating.

both of his hands are messily playing with your drenched breasts, which are on full display. he pinches and squeezes your nipples with need, adding to the overwhelming sensations. you're a moaning mess, the dual stimulation too much to bear—a toe curling experience that leaves you breathless.

gojo drinks and slurps loudly on your sloppy pussy, each sound a explicit reminder to his appetite. your pussy is like a drug to him, he's high off you and can't get enough. he needs more of you—your taste, your scent—or he'll surely go mad.

the room is filled with the symphony of your combined sounds, your moans, his greedy slurps, and the wet noises of your body responding to him. it's a lewd display that leaves no doubt about the depths of his obsession and your mutual surrender to this intoxicating moment.

“hahh, i n-need it, my lady,” gojo whimpers, his droopy eyes locked onto your messy breasts, glistening with milk. his mouth waters, a desperate hunger igniting within him as he rises from his knees, his lips and chin still slick from your leaky cunt. confusion flickers across your face until his warm mouth finally envelops your nipple, his tongue swirling around it with an insatiable eagerness, drawing forth your sweet fluids.

his eyes flutter closed at the new taste flooding his senses—so sweet, candied, and intoxicating that it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his throbbing cock, which leaks eagerly against the fabric of his traditional attire. the sensation is overwhelming that he can’t get enough.

“oh f-fuck, ‘toru…” you moan, your voice trembling as waves of pleasure wash over you. the sensitivity of your nipple sends shivers down your spine, and you arch your back off the cushioned throne instinctively, pushing more of yourself into his mouth.

“mhm… so good,” he groans against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body. he sucks harder, pulling on your swollen nipple as if it's the only thing keeping him alive. the sounds of slurping and moaning fill the air—each noise a raw desire consuming both of you.

you cry out again, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. you gasp, lost in a haze of pleasure as gojo's mouth works its magic. every flick of his tongue and gentle tug sends you spiralling deeper into ecstasy. the royal family stares up in horror at your lewd actions, they tremble in fear at what gojo would do to them if they said one peep.

but gojo is completely lost in this moment, high on the taste of you. “i can’t stop… i need more,” he moans breathlessly between pulls as your milk coats his plush lips, his own arousal pushing him closer to the edge. each time he pulls away to catch his breath, he’s met with the sight of your flushed cheeks and blissed-out expression—fuelling his desire even further.

gojo has found his new addiction in you, and it’s a craving that will never be satisfied. as he continues to devour your milk with fervour , both of you moan like crazy, caught in an endless cycle of pleasure that only seems to intensify with each passing moment.

he’ll never stop at this rate.

GETO SUGURU

your ears perk up as you hear your coworkers squeak in excitement upon spotting geto suguru, the renowned artist, stepping into the luxurious store where you work. this high-end boutique, filled with fashionable handbags and stunning clothing, is where geto loves to shop—not just for the exquisite pieces, but because you’re always here.

fiddling with the clothing rack, you catch a glimpse of geto through your peripheral vision, flanked by his bodyguards as female employees swarm around him. little do they know—and little does the media suspect—that you and geto share a secret relationship. he often begs you to quit your job, promising to provide for you completely. as tempting as that offer is, you've built a family at work that you cherish deeply.

“hmmm, i was actually looking for this piece in particular,” you hear him say from behind you. his large hand engulfs yours as he selects the coat you were just touching. you stifle a giggle; this is nowhere near his usual style. he always does this to strike up casual conversations in public.

“would you get the fitting room ready for me, mrs. geto?” he rasps, whispering the last part just for your ears. your eyes widen in shock, hoping no one overheard. you nod, noticing your coworkers scoff at how clearly geto has a favorite.

you already know what he wants with that slick fitting room signal—he misses you and wants to fuck you.

that's why he has you bent over prettily for him in the vip fitting room, your hands pressed against the full-length mirror now smudged with your fingerprints. your work pants are discarded somewhere across the room as you watch him tease you mercilessly, rubbing his cockhead along your puffy folds. your pussy aches, desperate for more.

“i missed you, pretty,” he murmurs softly, and you nearly crumble when he slaps his chubby tip against your clit. the wet taps send jolts through your entire body, making your pussy clench around nothing.

“m-missed you too, sugu,” you whimper, voice trembling with need. he swats your ass, drawing a moan from your lips as you lean into the mirror. fog clouds the reflection as he continues to spank your sore skin, each slap a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you breathless.

“‘m not talkin’ to you,” he scolds as you whine, wiggling your hips back to feel more, a chuckle rumbling from him. “since you wanna ignore my texts... she would never ignore me.” his voice drops as his leaky tip pushes its way into your cunt, your walls stretching to accommodate every inch, almost burning. geto hisses at the way your velvety walls flutter around him, and you feel yourself growing blissfully dumb. the store's background music rings in your ears, a reminder that you're still on the job.

geto watches you slowly lose yourself through the mirror, pulling your hips firmly against his as he slams his cock deep into your walls, making you sob aloud. he pounds mercilessly into your sopping pussy, each stroke deeper than before, his flushed tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the fitting room, mingling with your moans and creating a sweet melody of raw desire.

“fuckkk—pussy so good,” he pants as you clamp down at the praise, a grin spreading across his face as he sees your eyes shut tightly, moaning out pathetic pleas. your pussy sobs uncontrollably, nearly louder than the soft music playing through the speakers.

“mmm, she’s very talkative today,” he rasps wickedly, his hand snaking down to vigorously rub your achy clit, the cool metal of his silver rings grazing your sensitive skin. you cry out from the dual stimulation, overwhelmed by the sensation.

“y-you came here to just speak to my pussy more than m-me,” you manage to say, a hint of attitude slipping through as he pauses, taken aback by your words. his thrusts come to an abrupt halt, and you whine at the sudden stop.

“awh baby. are you upset? wanna show me how mad you are?” he teases with a fake pout, watching as your frustration builds. “poor thing, all worked up and nowhere to go.”

he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “maybe if you hadn’t ignored my texts, i’d be a little nicer,” he taunts, giving your clit a sharp pinch that makes you gasp. “but now? i think i’ll take my time.”

his words send a shiver down your spine as he resumes his relentless pace, each thrust deliberate and punishing. “come on, show me how mad you are,” he urges mockingly, his voice dripping with amusement.

those were his last words before you took control, riding him like your life depended on it. he's whimpering beneath you,struggling to hold back his moans as your pussy works him over, each movement a killer. you're pouncing on him on the adjacent couch from the mirror, your hips rolling at a relentless pace as his large hands knead the flesh of your ass. he swears he's under some kind of hypnosis, his eyes glued to your breasts as they bounce wildly in front of his wide, purple eyes.

your pussy squelches louder and louder with each thrust, a symphony of wet sounds that’s music to his ears—he even thinks he might have to incorporate it into his next song.

“how’re you feeling, pretty boy?” you purr, and a moan slips past his lips at the praise. his eyes flutter slightly as you ride him faster, your walls sucking him in with a steady rhythm.

“hahhh, d-don’t think i won’t get back at you,” he whines, but there's no mistaking the submission in his voice. you grin down at him, taking in the sight of his long locks sticking to his forehead, strands of hair messily splayed across his face. he's completely undone beneath you, humming with pleasure as you continue your relentless pace.

his once-commanding presence is softened by the way he succumbs to your movements, each roll of your hips drawing out more whimpers and gasps.

“mr. geto, we found a few pieces that you might like!”

you stop in your tracks, eyes widening in panic as you hear your manager’s voice on the other side of the door. geto lazily smiles, clearly enjoying the fear that flashes across your face. without warning, he lifts you up from the couch, his strong arms wrapping around you as he strides closer to the door. your heart races as he slams you against the wall beside the door, and you stare up at him, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you.

“hmm? please tell me more about it, im dying to know more,” he lies smoothly, his voice low and teasing as he wraps your legs around his waist. his cock is still buried deep inside you, and he begins to thrust slowly, deliberately. you bite your lip hard, desperately trying to stifle any sounds as you’re mere inches away from your oblivious manager who rambles on about clothing pieces.

each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, and you struggle to keep quiet as he fucks you roughly. it almost feels like he’s punishing you, yet the thrill of being caught only heightens your arousal. but fuckk, the way you look at him—eyes wide with fear and desire—makes him want to abandon all caution. he wants everyone to see how much you belong to him.

“you like that, baby? you like getting fucked in front of your manager?” he whispers with a wicked grin, his voice dripping with mischief. you gasp as his dick throbs inside your sloppy cunt, your arousal leaking profusely and staining the expensive flooring beneath you.

your managers voice suddenly drops as she realize something is off, her excitement turns to horror as she begin to piece together what’s happening just behind the door.

“yeaa, I bet you do, doll,” geto taunts, his eyes dark with lust.

“just show her how much of a slut you are.”

CHOSO KAMO

“what do you mean there’s no room?” you exclaimed, eyes widening as you looked into the back seat and saw it completely filled. not even a single inch was available for you. of course, two of the tallest guys—choso and riko—were manspreading like it was their job, leaving your poor friends, mina and sajé, squished together.

“well… we thought the car would fit all of us,” choso’s friend, the driver, said as he glanced back, confirming that there was zero room possible. you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration; you’d already pitched in money for this road trip.

“you can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable,” choso chimed in, his voice smooth and inviting. your eyes nearly twinkle at his kindness, and everyone in the car exchanged side-eyes—half surprised and half amused by the suggestion.

your low heels clacked against the cement as you hurried over to choso’s side of the car, excitement bubbling inside you. when you opened the door, you nearly choked on your saliva at how incredibly good he looked, manspreading in the back seat. his black baggy ripped jeans hugged his long legs perfectly, paired with those monstrous black boots that made him look even taller. your eyes trailed up to his chest—damn, that black compression shirt clung to him in all the right places.

he’s the true definition of an emo hottie!

his lap looked so inviting as you climbed into the cramped SUV. you settled snugly on his lap, feeling his large arm snake around your waist for extra protection. but oh gosh, your cunt was tingling like crazy—your clothed pussy was directly on top of his bulge, and it sent a rush of heat through you.

after nearly hours of driving, everyone in the car is dozing off to slumber—everyone except you, choso, the driver, and the person in the passenger seat. the car jolts suddenly, waking everyone up, but what’s even worse is that you’re practically bouncing on choso’s lap!

“ehh, sorry! the roads are pretty bad here,” the driver says as the car hits a series of small bumps that quickly escalate to larger ones. choso’s arm around your waist tightens, holding you down more firmly against him. you suppress a moan as you feel the outline of his growing cock beneath you—hell, you can even feel it throbbing uncontrollably.

you shut your eyes tightly, nibbling on your plush lips as you try to hold back any sounds. it would be beyond embarrassing if you let out a noise now. but with each bump in the road, the friction between your bodies sends electric shocks through you, igniting a fire deep within.

“f-fuck… need more,” he whispers lowly, just for your ears. your heart stops at his words. did you hear him wrong? but the way he’s holding you down makes it clear that you heard him just fine.

the tension in the air is thick—almost suffocating—as desire hangs between you like a heavy fog. every jolt of the car pushes you closer to him, and you can’t help but grind down slightly, feeling his hardness beneath you. it’s so pathetic how the both of you are grinding hard on each other, holding in whimpers and moans as you feel your panties fully drenched. choso’s breath hitches, and his grip on your waist tightens even more as he bucks his hips up desperately to feel more.

your nails scrape against the driver’s seat in front of you, and you swear you’re about to rip through the fabric. it’s embarrassing how turned on both you and choso are—especially with all your friends in the car!

“pull over here, let’s get some drinks,” riko groggily says, and the car sharply turns right into the parking lot of the convenience store. both of your movements come to an abrupt halt as the atmosphere shifts; everyone becomes hyper-aware of the situation.

“y’all coming in?” riko asks as he opens his door, and you feel your heart race. you and choso exchange a quick glance, knowing exactly what’s at stake. “no thanks, we’ll just stay here,” you manage to say, forcing a casual tone despite the heat pooling in your belly.

you don’t waste a minute as you reposition yourself facing choso, your knees sinking into the plush seat beneath you providing just enough comfort. his hair is messily tousled, strands falling across his face, and those puppy eyes of his are filled with a desperate need that makes your heart race.

without hesitation, choso quickly unbuckles his jeans, pulling out his achy cock from its confines. he lets out a soft moan as the cool breeze grazes his thick shaft, and your eyes widen at how incredibly hot he looks—his rosy tip leaking with anticipation.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. he’s already intoxicated by you, and all you’ve done is grind against each other!. the heat between you is noticeable , and you can feel your own need building as you pull your panties to the side.

“g-gosh, choso,” you gasp as his thick tip slips inside you, your walls inviting him completely. choso throws his head back against the headrest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he drives his hips up with fervor, filling you entirely.

“i’m sorry, pretty— we don’t have much time,” he breathes, his voice strained and shaky, each word punctuated by heavy breaths. his hips move with a desperate urgency, thrusting into you with a rhythm all their own. the sound of your bodies meeting is so loud it drowns out the hum of the engine.

you roll your hips, feeling him reach the deepest parts of you. your breaths mingle in the confined space, quickening with each thrust. a moan escapes your lips as his bulbous tip expertly finds your g-spot with each powerful thrust, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. choso’s breath hitches as he loses himself in the moment, the air thick with tension and desire.

the car shakes with each thrust, the windows slightly fogging up as you both fuck each other with desperateness and need.

“‘s fuckin’ big, cho,” you stammer out, your melodic moans music to his ears. his cock vigorously throbs within your slick walls, and the two of you are growing dumb off each other, lost in a haze of pleasure.

with each thrust met, your cunt begins to spasm around him, clenching tightly as waves of pleasure wash over you. the sensation is overwhelming; it feels like your body is begging for release. the car creaks under the intensity of your movements, the air thick with heat and urgency.

as you both get lost in the moment, choso leans in closer, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. it starts softly, but quickly escalates into something primal and messy. his hands grip your face as if he’s afraid to let go, and you can feel his raw passion pouring into every touch.

your mouths move together with urgent need, tongues tangling in a wild dance that feels intoxicating and electric. he tastes like pure desire—sweet and addictive—as he kisses you deeper. each press of his lips sends shivers racing down your spine, igniting a fire within you that mirrors the rhythm of his thrusts.

the kiss grows sloppier; breaths become heavy and desperate as you both lose yourselves in each other. saliva mixes as you moan into his mouth, the sounds echoing in the confined space of the car. choso pulls away just enough to lock eyes with you, his gaze dark with lust and hunger.

“you’re driving me insane,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire before he crashes his lips back onto yours. the urgency intensifies, each kiss more fervent than the last, as if he’s trying to claim every part of you.

with a sudden burst of playful dominance he snakes his hands down to your ass, he slaps your flesh hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure through you, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watches your reaction.

“yeaaa you like that shit, huh? i bet you-“

his words are cut short when you hear the doors attempt to open. you glance at riko, who’s struggling to unlock the door. before you can react, the driver unlocks it, and riko comes flying into the back seat beside you and choso.

your walls clamp down around his thick cock as he groans lowly, the thought of getting caught sending a thrill through you. you bury your face into his neck, inhaling his husky cologne.

“what the hell are y’all doing?” riko asks, glancing at your awkward position on choso’s lap, head hidden in his neck.

“she’s sleeping,” choso replies quietly, raising a finger to his lips to signal silence. everyone nods, but you can feel choso smirking as you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood.

as the car starts moving again, your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets when it begins to shake. the bumpy road makes you bounce on his cock, and you instinctively grind down, feeling him tense beneath you. his eyes flutter as he watches your hips move, knowing exactly how to make him crumble.

“cut the shit, you two- we already know you aren’t sleeping,” nobara says, pointing at the dashcam that’s connected to one of their phones.

they heard everything,

fuck.

NANAMI KENTO

“let’s just fuck it out mama, we can’t be separated.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you scoff, sitting cross-legged in the divorce attorney's office once the door shut closed.

“we need a moment to speak alone,” nanami had asked your attorney as he left, but he was nowhere near wanting to talk and you knew that the moment the two of you were alone.

“ridiculous? this isn’t even the worst place we’ve fucked,” he taunts, rising from his chair and leaning against the desk, his hazel eyes scanning your figure—something he could never get enough of.

“sign the papers,” you say through gritted teeth, but he smirks, clearly not listening as he admires how beautiful you look in the skin tight dress.

“sign- fuckkk,” you cry out as you’re now bent over your attorneys desk, your black dress hiked up to your waist as nanami ruthlessly pounds his cock into your sore pussy as your walls welcomes him back with a warm and slimey snug. within a split second you’ve become a sobbing cock-drunk mess, your tears staining the important documents that are now scrunched up from being smothered underneath your breast.

nanamis thick fingers grip your sides as he rams his cock deep into you, this speed almost too much for you that you feel as if he’s deep in your guts. he desk shakes beneath you, pens and papers tumbling to the floor, but in this moment, nothing else matters. all that exists is the connection between you, a powerful force that consumes your thoughts and senses.

your knees buckle as he lifts you up, steadying you to keep your balance. “c’mon wifey, what about our future kids? you reallyyy want me to sign it?” he teases, his voice playful yet charged with intensity. you find yourself crying out incoherent sentences, lost in the overwhelming sensation of how good he feels.

“s-sign it,” you shudder as his thrusts intensify, you can hear the animalistic growl he lets out once he felt you squeeze tighter. feeling the tension between you as he pulls you closer. his large hand grips your hair, pulling you closer to his chest as you back arches up from the messy desk. your pussy squeaks out broken sobs as he rams his cock sooo deep that you see a small bulge forming in your lower tummy.

“what’s our lawyer going to think, huh? I spent a lotta money for his services,” he rasps, his thrusts growing deeper and more meaningful, as if to prove that you cannot leave him.

“k-kennn, fuckk,” you moan as he tugs harder on your hair, your body trembling as tears spill down your cheeks. he doesn’t care where you are- all that matters is the pleasure coursing through you. a devilish grin spreads across his face, knowing exactly how to push your buttons and drive you wild.

“i know, sweetheart—I know. just let it allll go,” he sings, encouraging you as he coaxed you toward your intense orgasm. soft “oohs” and “ahhs” escape your glossy lips as warmth pools in your belly, your slick walls tightening around him, practically suffocating his throbbing cock.

“hgnn—gonna milk me dry, baby,” nanami stutters, feeling his balls tighten painfully as his breaths become sloppy and jagged. he snakes his hand from your hair to your throat, possessively gripping you just tight enough to spark thrill without pain, amplifying the waves of pleasure that crash over you and drawing your intense orgasm closer with every pulse.

you bite your lower lip hard as you both come undone in perfect sync, a skill nanami has mastered. your walls flutter around him as his hot release fills you, feeling his thick seed plunge deep within your womb. your vision blurs and your ears ring; it’s so messy that your mixed juices cling between your thighs, sticky and gooey.

your mind is so dizzy that you don’t even notice when he gently places you on the desk, your back crumpling the papers beneath you as your legs are pressed against your chest. your permanent anklet dangles and glimmers in the natural light, the diamond ‘K.N.’ charm a constant reminder that he will always be with you, no matter what.

your eyes lazily flutter open to find nanami kissing your inner thighs, your legs still trembling from your previous orgasm. his lips graze your swollen folds, causing your body to jolt in response. nanami's eyes glimmer with amusement as he watches globs of your mixed essence drip down onto the papers creating a small pool on the wooden desk.

“mmm, you sure came a lot for someone who wants a divorce,” he taunts, bringing his cool wedding band back to your throbbing core, globs of cum coating the once-gold ring in a sticky white layer. you gasp at the metallic sensation as he rubs the ring against your swollen clit, toying with you while you sob incoherent sentences. your eyes dart to the door, where you catch a glimpse of shadows peeking through the window. panic rises in your throat as you try desperately to signal to nanami that there are people watching.

but oh he knows,

he knows very well that the entire floor heard the scandalous things you two were doing, and he wants everyone to know.

without warning, nanami plunges his warm tongue into your sopping core, savouring every drop of your arousal as he hums against you. the vibrations sends shivers through your body, and you can feel him revealing in the taste, his tongue exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that drives you wild. he laps up your juices eagerly, occasionally grazing your sensitive nub with his teeth, teasingly biting it just enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through you. it feels as if he’s determined to make you scream for everyone to hear.

the loud slurping fills the room, making you cringe at how messy and indulgent he is, yet your body craves him more with each passing moment. you feel yourself teetering on the edge, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you, when suddenly, just as you're about to beg for more, the door swings open. several flustered lawyers stand in the doorway, their eyes wide with shock.

“u-uhm, mr. and mrs. nanami, the p-police are outside…”

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valiasims · 4 months ago

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Cozy Cabin Collection - Bedroom

Hey everyone!

The final part of the Cozy Cabin Collection is here! It is a bedroom set and includes a modular closet with items to fill them up with.

I'm a little sad to say goodbye this cabin theme because I gained a lot of followers through the time I was making these sets and I also learned a lot of new skills and techniques. When I came up with the idea of a large collection to guide us through autumn and winter, I hadn’t expected it to become so significant in terms of sentimental value. I was always thinking about the next idea to bring to life and living in a cabin in my mind. Despite this being a sad moment, I’m so excited for what’s next! I’ll be creating a set for a commercial lot, and I’ve had this idea for about a month and a half. After seeing what the next expansion pack will be, I’m even more excited because I think it will complement it well.

A bit more about this set: It started as a bedroom set but somehow turned into a closet set with bedroom items. At first, I only wanted to add two closet pieces with the door, but I figured it would be more versatile (and not too much extra work) if I included the corner piece as well. A little info on how the door works: You can slot the door onto the closet pieces, with three slots available on each piece. It only makes sense to use the side slots if you have two or more pieces placed next to each other. I added multiple slots for hanging clothes so you can use the in-game clothes (or other CC ones) that are grouped together, but also place individual items without using the TOOL mod.

The wicker basket, folded sweaters and the hat box are stackable.

For the curtains, I made a curtain rod that, for some godforsaken reason, looks completely different in-game than the rod on the curtain items themselves, despite them having the same texture and everything. This was the reason I couldn't include them in the last set—I just couldn’t get them right no matter how hard I tried. I even checked out other CC that does the same thing by separating the rod, and they all had the same problem. Somehow, the lighting on them looks different, and I couldn’t find a solution. So sorry for this issue but hopefully it's not too noticable.

I think that’s all! I’m really grateful for all of you being here—thank you, and I hope you’ll like this set as well. Let me know if you have any issues, and feel free to leave your thoughts below so I can see what you like and what you don’t.

The Set Includes

Wooden Bedframe

Bed Mattress

Decorative Pillows

End Table

End Table Lamp

Wooden Bench

Closet (3 types+corner)

Closet Door

Hanging Elegant Coat

Hanging Jacket

Hanging Puffer Jacket

Hanging Tops

Wicker Basket

Designer Hat

Fluffy Hat

Folded Sweaters

Decorative Footwear (3 styles)

Hat Box

Makeup Bag

Curtain Rod

Closed Curtain (3 heights)

Opened Curtain (3 heights)

Antler Wall Lamp

-DOWNLOAD HERE- Public release on the 15th of March 6PM CST

#ts4cc #ts4 maxis match #maxis match #the sims 4 cc #the sims 4 custom content #ts4ccfinds #sims 4 cc #cc #the sims cc #cc finds #sims 4 #ts4 cc #ts4 custom objects #valia #valiasims #cc download #sims4 download #ts4 download

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gojosoups · 6 months ago

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cw: smut, consensual spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, cum licking, f!reader, all characters are 18+, MDNI, not proofread..like at all..

whenever you're being disobedient, you'll find yourself thrown across his lap, your bare ass up as he caresses your cheeks before giving them a harsh smack.

your body launching forward from the force of the impact as sobs escape your pretty whiny lips. each slap harder than the next, your ass stinging as he fondles it. his thick fingers playing with your pretty puffy lips, spreading your wetness across your folds and teasingly flicking at your cute clit, ignoring your whines and begging, before delivering another smack to your ass.

"how many was that?" he asks, his hand cupping your ass, trying to soothe the sting. you whine dumbly, lying helplessly across his lap, all thoughts leaving your brain as you blink away tears.

"please…" you cry out, nails digging into the sheets below you in frustration.

"wrong," he says with an evil grin, hand striking down to make contact with your poor, sore ass. your body lunging forward, the sound of skin slapping skin ringing throughout the room. your throat dry and rough as he pulls out silent screams from your wobbly lips.

hands grabbing your ass cheeks, he spreads them apart, taking a look at your pretty pussy, before spitting in it. a pathetic whine leaving your lips as you feel his fingers playing around with your juices and his spit, making a mess of your poor cunt.

a thick finger sneaking its way between your lips, curling into your sweet spot as you lose your breath. your legs twitching in pleasure as you feel his fingers stretch you open, stretching your tight pussy with his thick digit, leaving you begging for more and more.

your abdomen tightening as he adds a second finger, disappearing between your glistening wet lips and playing with your gummy walls. feeling your orgasm approaching, you squirm, trying to grind against his fingers, only for a gasp to leave your lips as he delivers another smack to your ass.

you look behind you, tears in your eyes as you beg your boyfriend to let you cum, brows furrowed in frustration and expression sour at having your orgasm denied.

"only good girls get to cum," he says, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, leaving you high and dry with a sore ass and needy pussy.

── gojo, GETO, NANAMI, toji, sukuna, MIGUEL O'HARA, eren yeager, ERWIN SMITH, light yagami, KANTO MANJI MIKEY, KANTO MANJI HANMA, AL HAITHAM, DOTTORE, PANTALONE, KAMISATO AYATO, TRAFALGAR LAW, zoro, shidou ryusei, SAE ITOSHI + your favs (I gave up lol)

a/n: really not lying when I said this is not proofread, sorry it's so shitty but I had to post something

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

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demaparbat-hp · 7 months ago

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Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

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exeggcute · 10 months ago

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none of this is new info, but you know I have the "loves to write lists and compile links" disposition, so I thought it might be helpful to share some of the tips I've seen about how to make sure you're sharing legitimate palestinian evacuation fundraisers and bundle all those tips into a single handy reference post.

this is a spreadsheet of legitimate ("vetted") fundraisers on tumblr.

this post explains how the people who maintain this spreadsheet confirm the legitimacy of each fundraiser they add.

this podcast episode ("yousef and the fourth move") explains why evacuation fundraisers are often organized by people who don't live in gaza and/or who may not be immediate relatives of the people trying to evacuate. it's part three of a series about a man named yousef and his family; parts one and two aren't required listening for part three to make sense, but if you have a few hours to spare then I wholeheartedly recommend listening to all of them.

this is the process that I personally have been using to check whether a particular fundraiser has been vetted:

spreadsheet method

open the vetted fundraisers spreadsheet.

inside this spreadsheet, open the "find..." menu. on a windows computer, this shortcut is ctrl+F. on a mac, this shortcut is cmd+F. on a mobile device, click the three dots menu in the upper right corner of your screen, then select Find and replace.

search for the last name of the person or family in the fundraiser. you may get several results because last names obviously aren't unique; keep hitting "next" until you've looked at all the results.

if you find an entry in the spreadsheet that has the exact same name and whose gofundme link leads to the same fundraiser associated with the blog, it's legitimate. if you don't find an entry in the spreadsheet that matches the blog's fundraiser, that does not mean it's a scam. try the next method below!

tumblr search method

copy the username of the tumblr who originally posted the fundraiser and/or sent you a message asking you to boost the fundraiser. (for example, username123)

paste this username into tumblr's search bar.

for best results, click the All types drop-down menu, then select Text. since the search page is often dominated by asks sent by username123 (which people then answer and tag with their username), this helps narrow things down a bit.

look to see if any people who are not username123 have made posts confirming that username123 is legitimate. this includes people who've reblogged fundraisers and added notes, people who've compiled masterlists, and people sharing hyperlinks to other posts confirming a fundraiser's legitimacy. if the message seems to be "yep, looks legit," then it's safe to assume it's legit.

this is not a comprehensive list, but here are some of the usernames I've seen associated with "yep, looks legit"-type posts and who I've come to trust by association. (disclaimers: I am not mutuals with any of the users, and not all of them do the vetting firsthand, but the ones who don't vet posts themselves still seem to be careful about what they share and therefore are a good lead to follow. also, don't bug these people to vet fundraisers for you unless they've specifically indicated that they're open to that.)

90-ghost

el-shab-hussein

nabulsi

appsa

northgazaupdates

retvolution

communistchilchuck

neptunerings

a-shade-of-blue

shimamitsu

neither of these methods yielded anything definitive; what now?

it may just be too early to tell. unless a trusted source has shared overwhelming evidence that a particular fundraiser is a scam (which seems to be a very very rare occurrence), the best thing you can do is ignore it. don't report their blog as spam, because there's a good chance it's a legitimate fundraiser who just hasn't been vetted yet.

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leveragehunters · 7 months ago

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CoPilot in MS Word

I opened Word yesterday to discover that it now contains CoPilot. It follows you as you type and if you have a personal Microsoft 365 account, you can't turn it off. You will be given 60 AI credits per month and you can't opt out of it.

The only way to banish it is to revert to an earlier version of Office. There is lot of conflicting information and overly complex guides out there, so I thought I'd share the simplest way I found.

How to revert back to an old version of Office that does not have CoPilot

This is fairly simple, thankfully, presuming everything is in the default locations. If not you'll need to adjust the below for where you have things saved.

Click the Windows Button and S to bring up the search box, then type cmd. It will bring up the command prompt as an option. Run it as an administrator.

Paste this into the box at the cursor: cd "\Program Files\Common Files\microsoft shared\ClickToRun"

Hit Enter

Then paste this into the box at the cursor: officec2rclient.exe /update user updatetoversion=16.0.17726.20160

Hit enter and wait while it downloads and installs.

VERY IMPORTANT. Once it's done, open Word, go to File, Account (bottom left), and you'll see a box on the right that says Microsoft 365 updates. Click the box and change the drop down to Disable Updates.

This will roll you back to build 17726.20160, from July 2024, which does not have CoPilot, and prevent it from being installed.

If you want a different build, you can see them all listed here. You will need to change the 17726.20160 at step 4 to whatever build number you want.

This is not a perfect fix, because while it removes CoPilot, it also stops you receiving security updates and bug fixes.

Switching from Office to LibreOffice

At this point, I'm giving up on Microsoft Office/Word. After trying a few different options, I've switched to LibreOffice.

You can download it here for free: https://www.libreoffice.org/

If you like the look of Word, these tutorials show you how to get that look:

www.howtogeek.com/788591/how-to-make-libreoffice-look-like-microsoft-office/

www.debugpoint.com/libreoffice-like-microsoft-office/

If you've been using Word for awhile, chances are you have a significant custom dictionary. You can add it to LibreOffice following these steps.

First, get your dictionary from Microsoft

Go to Manage your Microsoft 365 account: account.microsoft.com.

One you're logged in, scroll down to Privacy, click it and go to the Privacy dashboard.

Scroll down to Spelling and Text. Click into it and scroll past all the words to download your custom dictionary. It will save it as a CSV file.

Open the file you just downloaded and copy the words.

Open Notepad and paste in the words. Save it as a text file and give it a meaningful name (I went with FromWord).

Next, add it to LibreOffice

Open LibreOffice.

Go to Tools in the menu bar, then Options. It will open a new window.

Find Languages and Locales in the left menu, click it, then click on Writing aids.

You'll see User-defined dictionaries. Click New to the right of the box and give it a meaningful name (mine is FromWord).

Hit Apply, then Okay, then exit LibreOffice.

Open Windows Explorer and go to C:\Users\[YourUserName]\AppData\Roaming\LibreOffice\4\user\wordbook and you will see the new dictionary you created. (If you can't see the AppData folder, you will need to show hidden files by ticking the box in the View menu.)

Open it in Notepad by right clicking and choosing 'open with', then pick Notepad from the options.

Open the text file you created at step 5 in 'get your dictionary from Microsoft', copy the words and paste them into your new custom dictionary UNDER the dotted line.

Save and close.

Reopen LibreOffice. Go to Tools, Options, Languages and Locales, Writing aids and make sure the box next to the new dictionary is ticked.

If you use LIbreOffice on multiple machines, you'll need to do this for each machine.

Please note: this worked for me. If it doesn't work for you, check you've followed each step correctly, and try restarting your computer. If it still doesn't work, I can't provide tech support (sorry).

#fuck AI #fuck copilot #fuck Microsoft #Word #Microsoft Word #Libre Office #LibreOffice #fanfic #fic #enshittification #AI #copilot #microsoft copilot #writing #yesterday was a very frustrating day

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leslongxia · 8 days ago

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Part 2 of Narinder and Lamb first face to face ! Took me quite a while as it spiraled out of what I initially planned to do, but I am very proud with what I've done so far. Still lot of stuff to improve, but that will be for next update ! (should I add one last scene with Narinder waking up~ ?) Thank you to @bamsara for TROD art and writing, of course, and @beautysnake art as well, that really inspired me to go and make that animation ! Once again, i hope it will fill your brainrot with sweet happy thoughts for today ! Let me know in comments what else I could animate~! FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO SEE THE FULL THING, ITS JUST BELOW HERE !

"Hi Narinder" or "Beyond the Veil" ? Also Aym and Baal POV Reaction

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb art #cotl lamb #lamb #cotl narinder #narinder #cotl narilamb #narilamb #aym #baal #digital art #animation #lessy art #overworked lessy #aym and baal #lessy animation #“hi narinder”

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shidoglazer · 3 months ago

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When f!reader gives their bestfriend consent if they want to practice somnophillia, and when they both had a sleepover, she woke up to him rutting inside her! , needy!bllk boys? Could you write for kaiser, sae, shidou, ness, and yk anyone ya wanna add. Oh and bonus points if it's hybrid!bllk boys. Imagine waking up to them breeding reader! Sorry if it's too weird or ya don't wanna do it, thanks if you do it! :3

did you just? . .

needy!bllk boys multi-charac drabble somnophillia breeding

ft: kaiser , sae , shidou , ness

＠shidoglazer

MICHAEL KAISER

- when you proposed the idea of somnophillia during your sleepover at his place, he literally scoffed into your face. there’s no way he had such little willpower that he’d fuck you in your sleep! what’s so good about that, anyways? at least, that’s what he thought.

- when it was time for bed, you didn’t wait for kaiser before immediately falling asleep under the sheets you were basically drowning in. you were exhausted anyways. as he walked into the room and saw your petite body being covered by such a big blanket.. “i’ve never had much willpower anyways.” he thought to himself

- he slowly made his way to the bed, bending down to observe your sleeping face before slowly taking off the blankets, shifting your body so now your knee-below was hanging off the bed. his hands wandered around your thighs before tugging at the waistband of your shorts and panties, taking them both off in one go, discarding them to the side. he looked up to check if you were still sleeping, and you were. it was so wrong that he was enjoying this.

- he got onto his knees and spread your thighs apart, hands circling your inner thighs as his lips went onto your slit, licking and sucking onto your clit gently before trailing down to your hole, plunging his tongue into it, groaning. he savoured the taste of your pussy for some time more before pulling away, hurriedly taking off his boxers to let go of them boner that was tenting in his pants

- he rubbed his tip onto your slit, how were you so wet despite being asleep? he bent down to your level, elbows supporting him as he whispered to you, even if you weren’t able to hear it. “just the tip, liebling. okay?” he placed a kiss on your forehead before lining himself up, pushing in gently and stopping at the tip.

- eventually, he knew himself it wasn’t going to be just the tip, because now he was pounding his whole cock into you while stroking your hair soothingly to make sure you stayed asleep. it was nice that you were whimpering softly on his cock despite being unconscious, he found it so hot. “stupid slut, f’cken take it all.” he rutted into you deeply, groaning at the side of your ear as you stirred awake slowly, looking at the sight beneath you.

- “…kaiser?” “mm. want a bath?” “yes please.”

ITOSHI SAE

- when you proposed the idea during the sleepover, he didn’t say anything except a “hm.” with the usual cold face he had. but trust me, he was internally freaking out about how compliant you’d be if he fucked you while you were asleep ..

- when it was bedtime, you fell asleep wrapped in his arms quickly. your body was completely limp under him, and it’d be a lie if he said it didn’t turn him on. he found himself disgusting, yet he couldn’t help the growing boner in his pants. i mean, it’s fine right? you said it was fine, so its fine! he was trying so hard to justify his own actions ..

- he held your head close to his chest with one hand while the other tugged off your shorts and panties, placing a kiss onto your head as he took off his own boxers, bringing up your leg so it was resting on his waist, being spread out for him. he placed another kiss onto your head, nuzzling into it. “i’m sorry, sweet girl.”

- he held onto your waist to keep you steady, slowly putting it all in as he groaned, biting his lower lip to refrain from making any sounds that would wake you up. when all of him was in you, he stroked your face with his fingers lovingly. “g’na fuck you nice and deep, all for your stupid little hole.” he started moving slowly, being completely gentle with your body to not accidentally hurt you or wake you up. then his pace started getting faster, the squelching noises were louder than anything in the room right now, just how was your pussy so tight when you’re knocked out?

- “haaah.. gonna cum, stupid slut. you gonna let me cum in you nice and deep? good fucking girl.” he held onto your hips, thrusting a few more times before shooting his cum into you, his head throwing back. he moaned gently at the sensations before immediately snapping back when he heard your voice call out to him.

- “..sae.?” “sorry. stay here, i’ll clean you up.” “wait,” before you could reply, sae pulled out of you, earning a small gasp as he walked over to the bathroom to grab a wet towel for you.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

- oh he will never let this go. as soon as you proposed it to him, he was grinning like an idiot, pulling you closer to him by the hip and looking at you dead in the eye. “100% serious? you’re not gonna be mad or like, upset if i do it?” you nodded in response, earning a giggle from him.

- he had more self control than you thought, because even when you were trying to tease him by staying up until late so he wouldn’t be able to get what he wants, he stayed up just as late with you at the corner of the room painting a masterpiece. eventually, you gave up trying to fight with him and just went to bed.

- as he realised you were asleep, he put down everything at hand and jumped into bed, laying on his stomach while his legs kicked up and down, watching you sleep peacefully before slowly taking off the blanket inch by inch, then your panties. he experimentally put one finger into your hole, feeling your gummy walls clench around him as a natural reaction. “whatta whore.”

- he got up and took off his boxers, not being able to hide his growing boner anymore. he put your legs onto either of his shoulders, lining himself up with you as he shoved the whole thing into you in one swift motion, stretching you out intensely as he was basically whimpering, “so- damn tight, fuckin hell..”

- his pace was ruthless, pounding into you as your whole body was limp. you were absolutely knocked out from exhaustion anyways from staying up so late, so it’d made sense why you were so deep into sleep. nevertheless, it was impossible for someone to sleep through all this.

- as he came closer to his orgasm, his pace started to hurry, causing you to stir awake to see the sight of him pounding into you while hovering over your body. when your mind processed what was going on, you clutched onto the sheets and threw your head back, “f-fuck,, haah, mnngh, ryu! how long have you been doing this?!” “mnng, dunno, sweet girl. why? you gonna cum soon?” and you knew you couldn’t deny his words.

- as he rutted into your stomach, your orgasm came too, everything washing over you like a wave of pleasure as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, body squirming under his. he pulled out slowly, letting all the juices leak out of you.

- “sooo.. one more round?” “absolutely.. not..” you said between laboured breaths, panting.

NESS ALEXIS

- he was like a teenage boy seeing boobs for the first time when you proposed it to him. stuttering, face going red, stumbling over everything… “w-wait, what? are you sure? is it, is it not gonna like hurt??? nonono, i think its better if you-“ you immediately shut him up with a kiss, shaking your head.

- during bedtime, he coaxed you to sleep quite easily while you were in his arms from how gentle his touches were and how tender his voice was. he couldn’t deny that it did turn him on, the idea of using your hole freely without any shame ..

- now, he was basically a whimpering mess as he fucked you from behind, whispering apologies in between his breathy moans as he held onto your waist tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. “feels so good! nggghh, i’m sorry baby, i’m so sorry, couldn’t help it,,”

- his pace quickened when he felt the familiar coil in him, his hold on you tightening as he shot loads of cum into you, moaning as tears pricked into his eyes. he himself wasn’t sure if it was from the guilt or from the overstimulation. either way, he flinched when you started shifting and stirring awake, quickly pulling out of your hole as you turned your head around to look at him.

- “..did you just?-“ “i’m sorry princess.. i’m so sorry,, i’ll run you a bath.” and without another word, hes rushing to the bathroom to start preparing your bath. you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips

★ check out my masterlist!

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drchucktingle · 1 year ago

Text

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

youtube

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

#love is real #chuck tingle #tingleverse #texas library association #actually autistic #lgtbqia #Youtube

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flowersforbucky · 9 months ago

Text

delirium

bucky barnes x reader (sex pollen trope)

word count: 4.1k

summary: stranded in the middle of the alaskan wilderness with no means of communication after being exposed to a foreign drug, you're reluctant to accept help from the one person who has a shot at saving you.

warnings/tags: sex pollen, dub con, unprotected sex, oral, masturbation, angst, descriptions of physical pain, language, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, reader is afab, 18+ only

flashbacks are in italics

Sometime in the near future, there would be a case study conducted on how long a human being could burn from the inside without dying.

They would refer to you as exhibit a.

Doctors and scientists would lay your cold corpse on a colder table and use a scalpel to cut you from your thorax to your belly button. They would scribble notes about how your lungs had turned to ash and your esophagus to molten lava.

They wouldn't say it, but they would think it's a shame, because your driver's license states that you were an organ donor.

A harsh gust of wind snaps you out of the twisted fantasy and back to your reality - standing barefoot on the rickety front porch steps of a small cabin in Sitka, Alaska. You've only been outside for a few minutes but the snow is pouring down at a brutal pace, already covering the tops of your exposed feet.

The razor sharp chill of the ground below you and the air that surrounds you are the only things tethering you to what little remains of your sanity.

You never thought that you would be so thankful for your feet to be going numb, but after feeling like every fiber of your being is getting melted with a hot branding iron for - what? Ten? Twelve hours now? You had to resist the temptation to submerge your entire body in the multiple feet of snow that had accumulated since nightfall.

You hear the front door of the cabin creak open from behind you. You don't have to turn around to know that he's standing in the doorway with the same look of pleading desperation that he's been giving you since the two of you had realized what was happening.

“You need to come back inside,” he says delicately. His voice is muffled by the roar of the snowstorm, but right now with heightened senses, you hear him just fine. “You're going to get hypothermia.”

You don't respond. The mere sound of his voice makes you grit your teeth together so hard that you're surprised the tiny bones don't shatter.

He keeps to the doorway, scared that if he takes one step closer, you'll flee into the miles of thick woods that surrounds you in only a pair of old sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He murmurs your name in a tone that begs you to come in from the below freezing temperatures.

“What time is it now?” You barely recognize your own voice - low and strained, it sounds like you haven't had anything to drink in days.

You clear your throat, though you doubt it'll make any difference.

“Just after four o'clock.”

Eleven hours into this hell, then. Best case scenario, another half a day of this. Worst case scenario, close to two.

Either way, you knew that these symptoms had yet to hit their peak. This would undoubtedly get worse before it gets better.

You stare out into the endless thicket of snow covered hemlocks and spruces. The illumination from the full moon makes the white powder on the branches glisten in the darkness.

Daylight was still hours away, and with it, hope for some means of communication with the rest of your team back in New York. The snowstorm had brought a widespread power outage across the city. Cell phone signal was nonexistent right now.

“Go on back to your room,” you tell him. “I'll come back inside in just a moment.” You continue to watch the blizzard before you, knowing that he's still just a few feet away from you. “I promise,” you add, hoping that he’ll believe you and return to the bedroom you'd been forcing him to keep to.

The drug coursing through your veins had amplified every one of your five senses. Even with him behind the closed door of the bedroom, you could still smell faint traces of the earthy musk of his deodorant and something warm that is uniquely him.

You wouldn't chance coming back into the house until his scent has dissipated from the entrance - not unless you want to feel as though all air is being stripped from your lungs.

Even simply standing here, with him behind you and the wind blowing his scent in the opposite direction, is nearly intolerable.

You hear footsteps retreat into the house, growing quieter and quieter as he makes his way back down the hallway, until you finally hear the click of his bedroom door. You exhale a breath that you weren't aware you had been holding in.

You have no doubt that he'll try to drag you back inside by the ankles if he has to, so you make good on your promise and return to the sweltering interior of the six hundred square foot log cabin.

A sharp, stabbing pain radiates from the center of your body at that thought - the exact kind of thoughts you were actively trying to avoid having. Thoughts of his hands digging into your thighs, his wet mouth on your throat, his bare chest pressed against yours as he fucks you into the likely thirty-something year old couch - those thoughts. Dangerous territory thoughts - the kind you didn't trust yourself not to act on if dwelled upon for too long.

Apparently, the thought of him putting his hands around your ankles and dragging you kicking and screaming falls into that category.

You settle onto the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest in an effort to alleviate the ache in your lower belly. You notice that Bucky has crammed more wood into the fireplace, which currently serves as the main source of light for the cabin, save for a few candles that have been placed sporadically throughout the small space.

Sweat begins to bead across your skin within seconds of sitting down in front of the fire. You know that Bucky is just trying to keep the temperature of the house from dropping below zero while also providing enough light to see during the middle of the night while you are in too much discomfort to sleep, but you feel like you are locked in a sauna after running five miles.

You think back to all of the times that you've given Sam shit for taking ice baths after his workouts. Now nothing sounds better than an ice bath.

Almost nothing, anyway. The only thing that could possibly feel even better is laying down behind a closed door less than twenty feet away.

And he'd offered - begged, actually, to take this pain away from you.

“Please,” he whispers, kneeling on the ground next to the couch, where you sit hunched over in pain. He's so close to you and it's fucking suffocating. He places his hand on your knee and you have to dig your nails into the suede upholstery to keep from whimpering. He notices the reaction and retracts his touch.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he says louder, the pet name finally getting you to meet his gaze for the first time since you dropped the glass jar of the firetruck red powder in the former HYDRA warehouse two hours ago.

Big mistake. Looking at him is a big fucking mistake. From the way his blue eyes bore into yours with sincere concern to the way that his plump, pink lips are slightly chapped from the cold weather -

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head into your hands. “I can't ask that of you. I can't make you do that. I would never forgive my–”

“You wouldn't be asking or making me do anything,” he tries to reason with you. There's sincerity in his voice but you're too delirius to hear the truth of his words. “I'm offering. Because I care about you. Because I don't want to see you in any kind of pain if there's anything I can do about it. Because I think you'd do the same for me if the situation were–”

“Bucky,” you cut him off in a strained gasp. “Your voice is making this so much worse right now.”

“Then let me help you. Let me make you feel good.”

His words alone are enough to have you clenching your thighs around nothing but the thick material of your sweatpants. You can feel your cotton panties becoming more drenched with each word he speaks.

“Not like this.” You're on the verge of tears - from pain, from anger at the entire situation, from how goddamn badly you need to feel him inside you. “It can't happen like this. I never wanted it to happen like this.”

His features soften, a look of understanding spreading across his face.

“When we fuck, I want it to be because we want to fuck,” you say as you jump up from your position on the couch, desperately needing to distance yourself from him before you do something you can't take back. “I don't want it to be because we feel like neither of us have a choice in the matter.”

“But we do have a choice,” he murmurs from where he's still kneeling on the floor next to the couch. “And I'd choose to go back to that HYDRA facility and infect myself with this shit, too, if it means you'd feel a little less guilty about saying yes.”

Your answer to that was, of course, a big, giant absolutely fucking not. The snow started pouring down shortly after, making his irrational proclamation an impossibility, anyway.

Almost half a day later, here you are. Surrounded by miles and miles of snow and ice in a town with no power or semi-functioning cell phone towers, just trying to endure the fire coursing through your veins until the effects of the HYDRA made drug have worked through your system.

You're coming up on the twelve hour mark now, and there's no denying that you're desperate for relief in one way or another.

Worth a fucking shot, you think.

You prop your feet up on the glass coffee table in front where you sit on the couch, spreading your thighs apart by a few inches.

You hesitate for a moment, listening for any kind of indication that Bucky's no longer in the confines of the cabin’s singular bedroom.

Dead silent, except for the crackling of the wood burning in the fireplace.

You snake your hand down the front of your pants, past the waistband of your underwear and to your center that's been aching for hours now.

You stroke your fingers up and down your folds, stopping at the apex of your core to massage your clit in circular motions.

Your head rolls back on the couch at the sensation, immediately feeling the slightest sense of relief. You dig your teeth into your lower lip to keep from moaning - hard enough to draw blood, the taste of iron flooding your mouth.

You slip two fingers past your entrance, not requiring any foreplay to plunge them to the hilt. It feels good - the way you're working yourself with rapid scissoring motions. Really fucking good, actually. Better than fingering yourself has ever felt.

But only a mere minute into the ministrations, you fear that it won't be enough to satiate you in the way that the drug requires.

Still, you try. You yank your t-shirt above your tits, bringing your free hand to paw at your breast as you continue working your pussy with your fingers, the heel of your palm putting pressure against your clit.

“That's not going to work, you know.”

You yank your hand out of your pants, snapping your head to the side to see him leaning against the frame of the small hallway. You had been so immersed in attempting to find some amount of relief that you hadn't heard him exit the bedroom. He's looking at you with sympathy and concern, not judgment - you don't think you'd be able to find it within yourself to feel embarrassed even if he were. Not in your current state of discomfort.

“How do you know that?” Frustration is evident in your voice. You look away from him, back to the fire in front of you as you pull your shirt back down. The floor creaks as he steps out of the hallway and makes his way over to the opposite end of the small couch. He sits a foot away from you, close enough so that his scent and warmth invades your senses, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core.

“Because I've been through what you're going through right now.”

Your eyes break away from the ember that you've been staring at, your gaze snapping to him. You don't know why this comes as a surprise to you. It shouldn't, not with every other form of torment that HYDRA had inflicted upon him for over half a century.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I was embarrassed,” he answers with a small half-shrug, breaking your stare. “I didn't.. handle it as well as you are,” he continues, shame in his voice and cheeks rosy. “You’re doing everything you can to fight something that you didn't ask for. That's more than I can say for myself.”

“You were brainwashed, Bucky,” you remind him delicately. It's a risky move that makes your skin burn and belly clench, but you scoot closer to him on the couch - your outermost thigh brushing against his knee. If the two of you weren't both wearing sweatpants, the minimal touch might even aid in bringing you some relief. Instead, you’re left feeling desperate for more of him.

But you push the feeling down, wanting to do what little you can to comfort him - wanting him to know that you don't think poorly of him for what was forced onto him, and what is now being forced onto you, too.

“I would never judge you for anything they made you do,” you assure him.

“I know you wouldn't,” he murmurs, turning to face you again. His blue eyes glow in the low lighting of the fire. The closeness between the two of you is dizzying, and electrifying, and -

“And I want you to know that I would never judge you for giving into this torture,” he adds.

You snort a laugh. “I'm starting to think you want me to give into this.” You mean for the statement to sound light-hearted, but a sharp pang in your gut makes you wince in pain and your voice goes shrill. You clutch your lower belly, hunching over at the pain.

He leans in closer, putting one hand on your lower back and one on your thigh. You whimper at the pressure of his fingers against your spine and inner thigh. Even through your clothes, the contact feels like heaven compared to hell you've been enduring for the last twelve hours.

You lean into his touch - you don't even think about it, you just do it. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, your forehead nuzzling the warm skin of his throat.

You take a deep inhale, attempting to steady your breathing, and you realize quickly that is a mistake - his scent is so euphoric, it feels like inhaling flames.

“Would it make it easier for you if I said that I do want you to give in?” His voice is low, his breath fanning across your face from his position above you.

“Fuck, Bucky, you can't say that to me right now,” you whine. You fist your hands into the fabric of his t-shirt, your eyes squint shut.

“Look at me,” he commands. You force your eyes open, pulling your head back enough to look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I want it to be your choice.” He brings a hand up to cup your jawline. His thumb skims the outline of your bottom lip. “But I would be lying if I said that I'm not relieved that I'm the one here with you, or that I wouldn't enjoy every second of helping you feel better.”

He brings his hands to yours, pulling them away from where they still clutch his shirt. You release your grip, allowing him to hold you by your wrists. He pulls your right hand up to his face, stopping just under his nose. Your brows furrow in confusion, until it dawns on you what it is he's doing.

He inhales deeply, then lowers your hand to his parted mouth. He slips the tips of your index and middle fingers past his lips, and then swirls his tongue around the two digits.

The exact two that had been inside your pussy not even five minutes ago.

Right now, you think you could come from him sucking on your fingers and nothing else.

You don't even try to stop the groan that slips past your lips as you shove your fingers deeper into his mouth. He moans around them as he finishes cleaning them off, the sound sending vibrations up your arm and throughout your body.

You pull your fingers from between his lips and immediately crush your own lips to his in their place. You feel the drug surging through your veins, but this time it's less excruciating - it now feels like pure adrenaline bubbling under your skin, spurring you on.

He opens his mouth to you, your lips and tongue moving with his in synchronicity. It's hurried and messy, and maybe not as romantic as you had imagined it in your head before this night - but it's exactly what you need right now.

He maneuvers you so that you're laying down on the couch, and nestles himself between your thighs. You can feel the hard outline of his erection through the thin material of his sweatpants. He ruts against you, dragging the bulge across your clothed center as he yanks your t-shirt up and over your head. He tosses it somewhere behind the couch before attaching his mouth to one of your nipples and palming the other with the cool metal of his left hand.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling the full weight of his body down against you. You stick your hands up the back of his t-shirt, scratching your nails down the skin of his back.

“I need more,” you gasp out as he pinches your nipple between his teeth, rolling it in his lips. The clothing that separates the two of you feels like a prison. “I need to feel you.”

He pulls away, leaning back to perch on his knees between your legs. Your eyes roam down the chiseled planes of his chest until they land on the defined “V” shape that disappears into the waistband of his low-hanging pants.

He hooks his fingers into your sweatpants and underwear and tugging them both down past your ankles, then throwing them somewhere across the room with both of your long-forgotten shirts.

His eyes trail your body from your breasts to your thighs, his pupils dilating in the firelight. He splays his hands across the meat of your inner thighs, pinning your legs open wide for him. He lowers himself back down on the couch, belly down so his face hovers just above your pussy.

“Bucky, I swear if you don't put your mouth–”

He laughs, a deep, throaty chuckle before his tongue slips between his lips. It darts to your hole, licking a soft strip up to your clit. You exhale a sharp hiss of pleasure, your hands shooting to lace your fingers through tendrils of his hair. You arch into his touch, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with thrusts of your hips. He eats like you're the best thing he's ever tasted - like he's wanted this for way longer than this drug has been in your system.

You're coming on his face in an embarrassing amount of time, really. Thanks to the influence of the pollen, you currently have the stamina and endurance of a teenager losing their virginity. Your thighs are clenched around either side of his head, writhing above him as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

The relief that you feel as you come down from your high feels like years of pent up frustration leaving your body all at once.

You don't quite feel entirely like yourself - there's still a dull ache in your core, and your skin’s still feverish - though that could be due to the fire that the two of you are just feet away from. But you're now able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Come here,” you whisper, your voice low and honeyed. He crawls over you, his chest brushing against yours as he centers himself above you. His skin shines with a thin layer of sweat that mingles with your own. You reach a hand between your two bodies, palming his erection through the sweatpants that he has yet to shed. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching as his eyes roll back into his head and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as you massage him through the fabric. Your other hand juts down to the waistband of his pants and you tug them downwards, far enough to help him shimmy them down to his knees.

His cock springs forward and he takes himself in his flesh hand, pumping his length several times before teasing your folds with his tip. He collects your slick along his length, lubricating himself before nudging his head just past your entrance.

You're more than ready for him - hours of desperation in addition to already having come on his face leaves you needing no further preparation before he's filling you up with his impressive length and girth. There's a slight burn at the sheer fullness of it, but there's also a wave of relief that your body has been craving for hours.

He pulls out halfway, then rocks back into you. He starts slow - trying to hold back for his own sake or for yours, you're unsure. Gradually, he increases his speed, hitting your cervix at that sweet angle that not everyone knows how to work. You lean forward, raising your head enough to capture his lips in yours once more.

You taste yourself on him - a dichotomy of sweet and salty mixed with something entirely unique. He brings his flesh hand in between your bodies, lowering his fingers to your clit where he begins rubbing pressured circles. You moan his name into his mouth and he responds by biting your lip between his teeth, his movements becoming messier.

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks in a low growl when he feels your pussy clenching around him. “Gonna fill you up and make you feel all better.”

His words send you tumbling over the edge for the second time - that telltale warm coil in your belly bursting at the same time that he begins spilling his warmth into you.

He collapses, pinning you between his body and the couch beneath you. Starting at your shoulder, he peppers kisses along your collarbones and up your neck until he’s finally eye-level with you.

“We can do that again,” he says in a breathy voice, still inside you. “If you need to, that is. Or if you just want you.” There's a mischievous grin spread across his face and a twinkle in his eyes. It's the most carefree you've seen him since the two of you left New York to come here for this mission. You put your hands on his chest, jokingly attempting to shove him away from you.

“Oh, I don't think I need to,” you jab at him. “I'm feeling pretty great now, but thank you for your services.” He laughs, pulling out of you and sitting back against the couch. He pulls you up with him, wrapping his flesh arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. “But I think I might want to again. You know, now that I'm no longer in excruciating pain.” He hums in agreement, stroking his flesh fingers across the side of your stomach.

“I'm glad you were the one here with me too, Bucky."

thank you for reading! i know sooo many people have done this trope, especially for bucky, but it's truly one of my all time favorites and i just needed to get this out of my system so i hope you all enjoyed

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

other works by me: oil & water • down bad • acquainted •

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

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starsforxavi · 3 months ago

Text

at home fashion show

·······•✦ description: Sylus finds your online shopping cart of costume ideas for Tara's Halloween party, what else was he supposed to do except buy it all and have you come over for a fashion show? He had to help you pick your costume out...

·······•✦ pairing: virgin!sylus x afab!reader ·······•✦ word count: 8.6k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: First Time, Halloween Costumes, Cunnilingus, Pussy Eating, Fashion Show, Inexperienced/Virgin Sylus, Breast Play, Guidance Reader-Insert, No use of Y/N, Oral Sex, Vanilla Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, Romantic, Soft Smut, Use of the nickname 'kitten', Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Loss of Virginity, Extablished Relationship

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

A fire burned in the hearth, warmth radiating from the middle of the common room. It spread to nearly every corner of the large house, the flicker of flames creating a glow across the dark leather couch Sylus found himself sitting on. Comfortable sweatpants hung on his hips, a plain black shirt stretching across his shoulders as he sat back, eyes fixated on the door to his room.

He was patient. The things he had gotten in life were born from patience. These deals took weeks or sometimes months to complete, and his journey to even get to the position he was in now took a lot of waiting. He could wait a bit more.

Except this was different; he knew what was on the other side of the door, his fingers tapping against the back of the couch as he thought about it. He scrolled through your costume ideas and the online cart you had built from the local Linkon store. All it took was one click before they were delivered to your house, and Sylus called you as soon as he got the notification that it was received.

“So, what do you think?” All you could do was chuckle in surprise, not knowing how to take in the giant box that had arrived. His mind whirled as he listened to the silence on the other end, wishing he could catch a glimpse of your expression. Seeing the label on the box, you shook your head before realizing he couldn’t see you. “Did you buy the whole store?” “Hm…” He feigned innocence as he smiled at his phone. “I just came across everything you had in your cart and decided you could come over and show me your ideas for your costume. Try everything on, if that’s okay with you, sweetie?”

There he was, his head spinning as he recalled a few costumes that had caught his eye. Even the previews of the models online wouldn’t come close to seeing it on your body. His leg began to bounce slightly, and his patience started to dwindle just a bit. Anticipation bubbled in his throat as the door opened enough for you to poke your head out.

Your eyes trailed over his position, legs slightly spread as if inviting you to sit down. His chest and torso filled his shirt perfectly as he leaned back against the couch. The black leather reflected the orange and yellow hue of the fire. Biting your lip, you smiled at the man before you, your hand playing with the hem of your shorts behind the door.

“You know Tara sent me some of these ideas, right? I wasn’t actually serious about wearing some of them.” Laughing, you recalled your endless conversations with your friend about what you should wear to her Halloween party. She even took it upon herself to send you links and add things to your cart herself.

“Well, we can be the judge of that ourselves.” Sylus countered, his eyebrow raised slightly as he beckoned you from behind your hiding spot. “Come out and let me see, kitten.”

His eyes desperately tried to stay focused on your face, your nose scrunched and lips pressed in a tight line as you walked out. The shorts could barely even be called shorts, the bottoms coming to just below your ass. In your eyes, they may as well be called underwear. The shirt wasn’t much better, the bottom stopping at your belt, meaning that any little movement of your arms upwards would show a flash of your stomach. Not to mention how tight it hugged your torso, any slight movement threatening to pop the buttons at the top that covered your cleavage.

“This is a very inaccurate representation of our Hunter uniforms.” Pulling at the bottom of your shorts, you switch from one foot to the other. The boots that came with the costume came up to just below your knee, and if it weren’t part of this wildly scandalous outfit, they were something you would probably have in your closet. The heel on the back boosted you up a few inches, and the feeling of looking down at your boyfriend brought a rush of excitement through you.

Sylus hummed again, tilting his head as his eyes drifted down your outfit. Typically, he would admire your beauty when you weren’t looking, letting his thoughts wander to dark places in the confines of his own home. However, as soon as you caught his gaze, he would retreat, a hint of apprehension behind his smile.

“It is quite inaccurate.” He commented, the corner of his lip turned up as he let his hands fall to his lap. “I think you look stunning as usual, but I’m sure many others will wear this costume. We wouldn’t want everyone else to see how inferior they are to your beauty, sweetie.”

His deep voice rumbled as he spoke, his chest tightening as he imagined what you could do to him in that outfit. Thoughts that didn’t sprout until late at night when he was alone and in need of you floated to the forefront of his mind. He did not indulge in those acts; his mind was always wandering elsewhere. That was until you two began dating.

Your face flushed as you looked around, avoiding his gaze that finally settled back on your expression. The outfit's fabric brushed against your inner thighs, and imagining a long night of it rubbing against your skin made you cringe.

“It’s also a bit uncomfortable. I couldn’t endure a few hours with these seams rubbing me raw. Plus I know of some sleezy coworkers that wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes off me.” Your hands smoothed down the inside of the shorts, palms surprisingly sweaty. Shrugging, you turned around to the door, looking back at Sylus and seeing his eyes immediately falling to your ass. “I’m going to try the next outfit on.”

Sylus was speechless as he watched you walk back into his room, the door shutting softly behind you. His leg twitched as the image of your hips and ass, hugged perfectly by the extremely tiny shorts, came back into his view. The comment about your coworkers didn’t bother him, he knew you were strong and could handle yourself. Besides, it wasn’t the smartest idea for him to accompany you to the party, that would only stir up more trouble.

It hadn’t been long since you started dating - about a month - your trips to the N109 zone becoming more frequent as your relationship progressed. Hell, just last weekend was the first time you slept in the same bed. It was a slow progression due to how little you saw each other sometimes.

It also had little to do with the fact that Sylus had never grown accustomed to intimacy in general. Though he seemed extremely confident and put together when it came to you, inside, he was afraid. With each touch he placed on your body, the relationship you formed became even more real. Fear etched into his entire being since he finally had someone to protect.

His safety wasn’t ever a critical thing to him. Dangerous situations seemed drawn to him and sought him out specifically. And he was used to it, used to the monotony of battle after battle and eventually a successful deal going through.

But now, his head threatened to beat out of his chest if he ever dared to think about anything happening to you. His precious angel that had come into his life unconventionally. He was determined to keep you safe, and he became more afraid with each milestone you hit together as a couple.

The thoughts that fluttered through his mind stopped as he heard the door opening, his jaw nearly dropping as he took in the sight before him. Your toes wiggled in the new boots, the size a bit too small, as you struggled to shuffle your feet forward. Each step strangled your smallest toe, and you flinched.

“You alright, sweetie? Are you uncomfortable?” He tensed his forehead, his attention stripped from your sleek black dress to land on your feet. Your ankles flexed, and before you could reach down to try to relieve the pain, Sylus was already kneeling in front of you. “Hold onto my shoulder.”

Doing as you were asked, your hand steadied yourself on his shoulder, fingers digging into his muscle as you struggled to balance on one foot. Sylus’ fingers gently undid the buckles of your small black boots, sliding them off your foot. The feeling of your hand on his shoulder clouded his mind, hands working on their own accord to help rid you of the pain.

“Thank you.” Even after removing your boots, Sylus stayed on the ground, looking up at you through his lashes. Unsure of what to do with his hands, they sat on his thighs, fingers painfully still. The fabric of his sweatpants only soaked up the sweat that began to form.

“Of course, sweetie.” His confident aura edged back into his expression, his eyes moving from your feet to your face again. “You’re even more beautiful from down here.”

Rolling your eyes, you step back, your hands pulling the dress slightly lower. It was a simple outfit, a tight black dress that resembled a stereotypical witch hung over your frame. The sleeves flared out at your wrists, and a broomstick waited back in his room to be dragged around for hours.

“Oh, stop it.” Laughing, you do a small twirl, hands folding across your chest as you think about the fashion choice momentarily. “I would like this costume if it had something else; it feels like I’m missing something.”

Sylus stayed silent, standing up from his position on the floor to sit back in his previous spot. His head tilts once more as he takes in your appearance. With a shrug, he thinks about his words carefully. “It looks good, but I’m sure there are others that would fit you even better.”

You returned to his room with an appreciative nod, where another costume awaited you. The fashion show started just like all the previous times you visited him, with a few small kisses and an invitation to a meal before you began sorting and laying out all the costumes. Your nerves stood on edge as you thought about each outfit. Excitement and wonder if something will happen with Sylus that night spread through you. Surely, he would get turned on over something and make a move. If not, you would have to take matters into your own hands.

Okay, your thoughts raced as you slipped on the next outfit, the hat accompanying it and really tying the whole look together. Another set of boots stared at you from the floor, yet you slipped them on, a sigh of relief falling from your lips when they actually fit pretty well.

“Alright, I really like this one.” Your voice traveled from behind the door, and Sylus could hear the smile that crossed your lips.

“Then let me see, sweetie.” Tingles spread across your skin as he speaks, his patience running even tinner as the seconds tick by. He needs to see you in one way or another - or perhaps in every imaginable way.

When you entered the common room, his breath nearly left his body. Words couldn’t form no matter how hard he tried, his tongue sinking in his mouth, never to return. The hands that once sat on the back of the couch moved to his lap, muscles contracting as he clinched his fingers. His composure was dwindling, and his reaction to the costume threatened to become very obvious.

“So?” You stuffed your hands in the jeans pockets, suddenly shy under his piercing gaze. Once upon a time, that gaze was full of a villainous rage you didn’t think you could control. The journey to the N109 zone for the first time - a critical mission given to you by the Academy - flipped your life upside down. Your pull towards Sylus surprised you, yet you let yourself fall for him just as he found himself falling for you.

Laughter echoed through the empty house, your hands moving to hold your exposed stomach as you bent over slightly. The flannel shirt tied tight in the back gave some resistance as you bent over.

“Sylus? You okay?” You began to walk closer, and a smirk stretched across his lips as he nodded, something happening to his inner monologue that was unknown to you.

“I’m wonderful, kitten.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he let his gaze move across your body. A deep, unsatiated need grew in him each time you walked out of his room. The room that he sleeps in and feels the most comfortable in, you stand there, naked and vulnerable. “I think we found your costume.”

With an excited nod, you gesture down to the outfit, hands flattening the jeans so they lay flat on your skin. It felt nice, and the fabric was smooth and plush. It was just the right amount of sexy, but you would be comfortable spending a few hours in it at the party. You twirled around for him, showing him the bedazzled back pockets and fake spurs on the back of your cowboy boots.

“I think so, too!” You couldn’t help how your voice raised slightly, feeling hotter under his gaze. Silence fell between you for a moment, your eyes connecting. Eye contact was significant for Sylus, his red irises piercing your soul. At first, it was intimidating when you encountered the feared leader. However, the eyes that looked at you recently became just a bit softer. He was still the feared leader, a man who has done and will continue to do morally grey to borderline evil things, but he would do whatever it takes to keep you by his side.

“Isn’t there one more costume?” His mind drifted back to the list, remembering the total amount he had paid and the number on the little shopping cart in the corner. One more… What was it? He tried to recall, but the way you flaunted the current outfit, he was lucky to remember his name.

“Oh, yeah!” The outfit sat on his bed, laid out and waiting for you to try it on. In truth, you had already decided on your outfit, but the idea of the last outfit. It was perfect ammunition to push Sylus’ buttons. “I’ll be right back.”

Sylus began humming a tune you couldn’t recognize as you changed into the last outfit. The tight spandex leggings and even tighter long-sleeve shirt hug your body even more than the previous three costumes. Every movement had the fabric rubbing against your skin, the seams being the most insufferable part. They scratched and poked at your inner thighs and collarbone, the sensations feeling like ants crawling on your skin.

However, all those feelings flew out the window when you stepped out in front of your boyfriend. This time, his eyes flew straight to the sleek leather boots that adorned your feet, his eyebrows raised and a smirk curling at his lips. Slowly, he dragged his gaze up your body, and the fire in the hearth burned brighter. Heat licked up your ankles and shot straight to your core, your need growing with each second he admired your costume.

“What do you think?” Your voice came out as a whisper, and if it weren’t just the two of you, he probably wouldn’t have heard it. The headband threatened to fall as you looked down, turning to the side slightly to show him the fluffy tail that connected to the leggings. “I even have a tail.”

Something akin to a growl and hum vibrated through his chest, his body flexing as his cock reacted instinctively. He had already felt blood descending, but with that outfit. The ears that sat perfectly atop your head and the tail that just begged to be tugged, he needed a moment to compose himself before he spoke.

“I think…” A soft pause filled the air, tension stretching like a rubber band between you. The distance was too much, the heat too much. Sylus had to sit back against the couch again, and his excitement was finally visible to you. “I think your nickname fits you perfectly, kitten.” The word falls from his tongue, almost like a purr.

“You think so? Want a closer look?” Your invitation hung in the air briefly before Sylus’ hand was extended. Words weren’t needed, his desperation palpable and patience at the end of its rope.

“Of course I want a closer look at my kitten.” The moment your hand met his, he tugged you into his lap. Your ass sat gently on his thighs, not wanting to overstep any boundaries even though he was very clearly aroused. He flexed his muscles underneath you, hands sitting gently on your hips. It was as if you were glass, not wanting to press too hard, fearing you would shatter.

As you settled into his grasp, your hands fell flat onto your thighs. The urge to touch him, card your fingers through his hair, drag your lips from his collarbone to just below his ear. It was overwhelming, the gravitational pull he had towards you.

Sylus roamed his eyes over your body, the stretch of the fabric over your plush skin drifting up to the black choker and tiny bell that adorned the front. Up to the black cat ears on top of your head. The physical manifestations of his nickname for you, all coming to the surface and showing him what a beautiful kitten you make, all shot straight to his cock.

“Wow.” The man below you breathed out, his thumbs pressing and massaging your hip bones. The smile on his lips was genuine, a smile that was born out of his true feelings for you. It wasn’t often that a smile like that lit up his face; his smiles usually came at the expense of one of his enemies or when a deal finally went through. You brought out a light in him that he wasn’t sure existed until he met you.

“Like it?” You gauged his reaction. Even though you already knew the answer, you pressed him, liking when he spoke his feelings out loud. “I think it looks good, but it’s so tight.”

There it is. His thoughts raced as he gathered his emotions in one bouquet, ready to extend it to you. This was his chance.

“Do you want to take it off?” His usually confident tone held a hesitation in it, the question leaving space for you to back off. If it was something you didn’t want, all you had to do was say so, and Sylus was fine. His inexperience caused his stomach to flip, wanting you to say yes and no simultaneously. Of course, he wanted to see every inch of skin you had tucked away, perusing every blemish and mark like you were a work of art. His work of art. Except he wasn’t so confident in what came after.

“Are you sure?” Your hands played with the hem of your shirt, eyes searching his for apprehension just as his gaze did to you. Both of you were locked in a battle; who would pull away first? Would one of you pull away first?

Nodding his head, his right hand trailed up your body, fingertips pulling your shirt away from your body and letting it fall back in place. “There’s nothing I would want more, kitten.”

With confirmation, your fingers pulled harder, the fabric clinging to your body as you wrestled with the long sleeves. A giggle fell from your lips when you finally threw the shirt to the side. The noise was short-lived, though, Sylus’ grip flexing as he took in your breasts. Still covered by your bra, he fought the urge to grab a knife from underneath the cushion to cut the strap, patience flying out the window. He needed to see you, all of you.

Sylus guided his hands up your body, cupping your breasts over your bra. His thumbs brushed against your clothed nipples, hardening them and causing them to show through the fabric. Thoughts jumbled together as his need clouded his judgment. He wanted to do everything, anything but wasn’t sure where to start.

His breath came out labored as he looked up at you, pupils dilated as all sense of pride flew out the window. Vulnerability crossed his features for just a moment before he leaned forward, lips pressing against yours.

The kisses started gentle, and pecks turned into him tilting his head, which led to his tongue poking your bottom lip. When you invited him in, a sigh left his mouth, his lips slotting perfectly against yours. Tongues explored each others’ mouths, and sure, you had made out with Sylus before… But this was different. You could sense the desperation behind his touch, his kisses becoming manic and rushed as his hand massaged your breast.

Your own need flooded your senses, your hips inching up his thighs until you could feel your core against his throbbing cock. Heat radiated off him, one of his hands moving back to your hip to hold you in place. When you moved your hands to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair, the hand on your hip squeezed.

“Fuck, kitten.” Sylus was the first to break the kiss, his head tipping to lay against the back of the couch. The feeling of you sitting on him, your entire body weight pressing on the one spot he needs you the most. It was almost too much, his heart beating faster and faster. Was it possible for him to die of a heart attack? He wasn’t sure. He had healed many of his injuries from battles himself, but a heart attack? Maybe it was possible.

It was okay, though. He would gladly die by your hand. You were the only reason his heart beat, and if you will it, it would stop beating right then and there.

Seeing the opportunity, your lips moved to his neck, kisses littering the expanse of his beautiful skin. The scars that outlined his past, memories that were long forgotten, were disappearing under dark marks that you sucked into his skin. His past no longer mattered since his future was on his lap, making her own memories on his skin.

Both of his hands sat on your hips, fingertips threatening to dip under the waistband of your leggings. He wanted to take it further, and he was sure he could find the right words, but would he actually be able to perform to your satisfaction? Pleasure coursed through his veins as your teeth teased the skin of his collarbone, and all thoughts flew out the window as he sat up, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

Your name hung in the air as the man underneath you groaned. Sylus couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, his throat contracting as he swallowed. Pride was a word unknown to him at that specific moment in time, the only thought being your beautiful face and eyes that looked at him like he was every star in the galaxy. In fact, he would typically akin himself to a black hole, swallowing everything in his path and stopping at nothing to achieve what he wanted.

Right now, all he wanted was you.

“Hm?” You inquired, lips aching to be back on his body. Your fingers danced under the shirt collar on his back, tracing the muscles that stretched taut.

“If you would allow me,” He hesitated for a moment, thoughts in his head jumbling up before the image of you sprawled underneath him came to the surface. He had to see it firsthand. “I need you, kitten. Now.”

Your core throbbed, your heart pounding against your chest, as his offer was met with a momentary silence. He was always so chivalrous, asking for permission and treating you as if you were a precious artifact. During business meetings, he was never afraid to show his position and made it clear to everyone in the room who the boss was. Yet here he was, showing a vulnerability he didn’t know he had to you and allowing you to see another side of him.

“Okay,” You agreed, your own pussy pulsing at the thought of finally being with Sylus. It was futile to hide your excitement, hips rotating in circles on his lap. Rubbing yourself against him, you leaned forward, kissing him with even more fervor than before. “I would love nothing more. I need you too, Sylus.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. His legs moved on his own accord, lifting you off the couch and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He would never let you fall, his hands moving from your hips to your ass, holding you close to him as he walked to his bedroom. Your lips hovered over his skin, breath hot against him, and he had to take a deep breath to regain some composure.

“There is one thing you need to know, kitten.” As soon as you were laid on his bed, the remnants of the other costumes fell to the floor as the comforter shifted. He spoke against your lips, his fingers wrapping around your back to unclasp your bra. “I’ve never been interested in sexual relationships until you came along.”

You knew what he was implying, your hand cupping his jaw momentarily. Silence hovered in the air as you waited for him to speak again. However, when he didn’t, you kissed him slower and more gently than the intense need from before.

“Do you still want to do this?” Your question hung in the air for barely a second before Sylus ground his hips against your pelvis, his erection pressing against layers of clothing that he hoped would be gone soon.

“Does feeling me rock hard for you answer your question?” His voice became playful for a moment, hand discarding your bra and tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m not one to beg, kitten. I just need a little… Guidance.” He leaned down, lips wrapping around your nipple and looking up to gauge your reaction.

A gasp fell from your lips, your hands in his hair gripping tighter, holding him against you so hard that you thought perhaps your souls would meld into one. While his mouth tended to one of your breasts, his hand took care of the other, thumb flicking and teasing your bud. Your underwear became stuck to you, the fabric causing you to squirm in his grasp.

“I- I think you’re- doing well with- without my help.” Your voice stuttered as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. Sylus’s upper lip curled, and his mouth disconnected from you for a split second.

“What can I say…” His breath across your damp skin caused a shiver to rack your body. “I’m a fast learner.”

Upon hearing a moan slip past your lips, Sylus concluded that he would spend eternity dragging every last noise from that pretty mouth of yours. It was his favorite melody, his own body responding to the siren call as his cock twitched in his sweatpants.

“Sylus,” Your moan morphed into an echo of his name, and fuck, you always sounded beautiful, but when you moaned his name? The man bit back the urge to rip your leggings and underwear off. A primal urge inside of him roared to life, needing so desperately to be buried in your pussy - whether it be his mouth or his cock was irrelevant at that point.

“Can I take these off?” Sitting up on his heels, he ran his finger underneath the waistband of your leggings. He couldn’t wait any longer; his skin tingled with energy, and he stared at you, urging you to allow him access to the one thing he wanted the most.

Sylus watched you nod, but it wasn’t enough for him. His eyebrows lifted slightly, head visibly shaking back and forth as he clicked his tongue. “No, no. I need your words, kitten. Tell me what you want me to do, how you want me to do it.”

You bit back a whine, the ears on your headband rubbing against the pillow as you arched your back. His fingernail tickled you, pressing hard enough that you felt it but not enough to cause you pain. With a huff, you opened your mouth; thighs spread wide to accommodate his large frame.

“Yes, you can take them off.” A pause, your hands clutching the sheets below you. “I want you to take them off, Sylus.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh. All he wanted in the world was to fulfill your needs and satisfy you so no other person could compare to what he could do. All he needed to know was how to do it. Once he found out, he would never forget it.

“Take my underwear off too.” His gentle hands unbuckled your boots, tossing them to the side of the bed. Your words shot straight to his cock, and he sat for a split second, his hands gripping your calves. Sitting back, Sylus hooked his fingers in the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down your legs very slowly. Maybe he was a sloth in his past life.

As much as he yearned to be inside you, he wanted to take his time savoring each and every reveal of your body and the noise that fell from your lips. Of course, his favorite would always and forever be when you said his name. You had already bared your soul to him, risking everything to travel here, to be with him, and now he could indulge in the only thing left—your body.

“Patience, kitten.” His voice was smooth as he spoke, hands kneading the flesh of your thigh. Your dark red underwear outlined your pussy perfectly. He preached patience to you, yet he could feel his own begin to disintegrate when faced with you, all spread out and ready for him. “I want to take my time savoring you.”

His experiences were few and far between, but what he did know was that you loved when he kissed your neck, leaving minor marks that had to be covered up in the morning. So he did the same to your thighs. Except he could leave as many marks as he wanted; no one else got to see you like this. He could dance his lips across your skin, planting seeds that would blossom later and eventually sprout the next time he undressed you. No one else would see them except you and him. You would be reminded of how amazing his lips felt, and he would remember the pleasure that rushed through him as he marked you for himself.

Sylus nipped at your skin, your fingers immediately carding through his hair. Sparks exploded in each spot that he bit, only to be soothed by his tongue, your taste intoxicating to him. You had quickly become his favorite meal, and he hadn’t even gotten to your pussy yet.

Maybe Sylus would never admit it, his pride too high and ego a bit too large to actually say it out loud, but he hesitated with taking your underwear off. He took pride in learning quickly, confident he could make you feel good after some guidance. But until he learned, he was unsure. He didn’t know what to do, how to touch you, and deep in his heart, he was afraid you would laugh at him or… Even worse, he would hurt you.

“Sylus.” Your voice calling his name snapped him back to reality. His eyes found yours as he looked up at the expanse of your body. The fingers in his hair massaged his scalp, and goosebumps rose on his arms as he gripped your thighs. “Please, take them off.”

Your plea didn’t fall on deaf ears, his hands moving on their own accord and playing with the band of your underwear. Slowly, even slower than your leggings, he slid them down your legs, letting them fall onto the sheets. His eyes trailed up to your core, glistening and waiting for anything he wanted to give you.

The man in front of you wanted to give you everything. The whole world served up on a platter… Any piece of jewelry or clothing you desired... You wanted someone dead? Don’t say another word; he’s already got their address on file. For the moment, however, he could settle on his mouth and fingers and, eventually, his cock.

“Can I touch you?” His hands ghosted up your thighs, thumbs dipping to press against your hip bones.

Another nod started, but you caught yourself, your pussy clenching upon seeing the leader of the N109 zone’s most notorious group in such a vulnerable position. All for you. His face inched closer, his eyes looking up at you like you were a god, and he was but a mere mortal, asking for grace to be able to lay his hands on your ethereal form. Sylus always seemed so hard, his brow set in a line and eyes distant, but this Sylus… He was affectionate and willing to put his position aside just to be beneath you.

“Yes…” You nodded, one of your hands falling to the pillow beside your head. The soft silk caressed your skin, but nothing would compare to Sylus’ calloused fingers tracing their way to your pussy. “You can touch me. Please touch me.”

His thumb dipped to your folds, collecting some of your arousal. It fascinated him, seeing you dripping onto the sheets. He did that. Sylus bit his lip, bringing his thumb up to his mouth and wrapping his lips around it. Your taste exploded on his tongue. It was a very unfamiliar taste, but he could find himself becoming drunk on it.

“Delicious.” He commented, looking up at you. “How and where do you touch yourself?”

This time, he didn’t sound teasing, his question genuine as he paused, taking in your open mouth and heavily lidded eyes. He was curious, his breath hitting your slick and making you shudder.

As if you weren’t already spread out naked in front of him, you could feel a bit of embarrassment and timidness creep into your movements. The hand that was in his hair moved to your lower stomach, your fingers teasing slowly towards your pussy. You had done it before - touched yourself. Sometimes, it was to fantasies you had with Sylus, dreams you would wake up from soaked and throbbing for release.

Thinking about those times, you dipped your index finger down, finding your clit. With one touch, you were gasping, sensitivity at an all-time high from all the teasing. Rotating in circles, your moans picked up, your other hand moving to brush against your nipple. The added stimulation had you clenching around nothing, your hole leaking even more onto the sheets.

Sylus watched in wonder, eyes tracing every movement and noise. His cock throbbed, and he sat up, pulling his shirt off as he watched you pleasure yourself. The knot in your lower stomach tightened, and with Sylus looking at you like a wolf looking at his prey, you weren’t sure you could last.

“Sylus.” Your lips formed his name, eyes locking with his. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. His bare torso shone in the light, a layer of sweat forming as heat settled in the room.

“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” He looked back at your fingers, his hands itching to touch you. Each image was cataloged into his brain, memories he would keep close to him. No one held a candle to how perfect you looked, your chest heaving as you played with yourself, your fingers teasing your clit just enough to keep the knot tight but not enough to release it.

“Yes, I have before.” You manage to speak. It felt like you were shoved into the fire in the common room, your skin burning under his gaze.

“Good,” Sylus smirked, his bare shoulders fitting perfectly under your thighs, parting them enough so he could see your throbbing hole and the small bud beneath your fingers. His hands sat on the inside of your thighs, fingers gripping the skin as he spoke again. “Can I try?”

“Please,” A whine fell from your lips, fingers removing themselves from your breast and clit. The invitation sat in the air for a moment before Sylus crept his hand up your stomach, grabbing your breast. His rough hands differed from yours, the callouses making the friction extra delicious on top of your sensitivity.

Sylus rolled your nipple between his thumb and index finger, his other hand wrapping around your thigh to settle close to your pussy. His thumb pressed down on your folds, searching for just a moment before he felt your body tense. A loud moan echoed through the room, and he smirked. Applying a bit of pressure, Sylus drew circles around your clit, just as he saw you do with your own fingers.

Maybe it was because his fingers were bigger than your own, or perhaps the scars and marks along his hands created even more surface area, but it felt infinitely better than anything you could have done yourself. His name was chanted repeatedly, your fingers returning to his hair and pulling.

He listened to your moans, growing louder and higher as he continued his ministrations. Licking his lips, he inched closer to your heat, wanting to taste you. “May I have a taste of my kitten?” His voice was nearly silent, nose mere inches from brushing against your folds.

“Yes, fuck.” You cursed, arching your back into his hand that still played with your nipples. “Please.”

Your confirmation was all Sylus needed, his tongue licking a long stripe from your hole up to where his thumb lazily played with your clit. His mouth was filled with your arousal, and a low growl rumbled through his chest. Instinctively he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you before diving back in. How had he gone so long without knowing your intoxicating taste?

A soft whine you let out traveled straight to Sylus’ cock, forcing him to pull away. He needed a moment to pull himself together. The warmth of his tongue and the sudden disappearance of his thumb on your clit had you wiggling your hips, desperate for something, anything.

The reprieve came in the form of his nose, the tip lightly brushing your clit as he dipped his tongue into your hole. Testing the waters, he teased around your entrance a few times before pushing in again. It was a cat-and-mouse game, the way he prodded just a bit deeper each time. His nose pressed against your clit, moving every time Sylus turned his head. Your fingers gripped his scalp, trying to get him closer to you.

Your legs tried to close around his head, and the man below you had to strengthen his hold to keep you spread for him. Sylus wasn’t sure if he could die by suffocation, but it seemed like a pretty good way to go if it meant he could die between your thighs.

As he continued, you felt the knot in your lower stomach growing tighter and tighter. When you ground against his face, his eyes were the only thing you could see as he looked up at you. Squelching and sloppy noises came from Sylus as he became a man starved. Deprived of you for so long, he would eat as much as he could.

“Sylus, please. Fu- fuck. I’m-.” Your sentence became broken up as his middle finger pressed against your entrance. His tongue glided up to your clit, flicking the sensitive nub as he eased in. It felt weird momentarily, his finger exploring your walls and not hitting anything. But fuck, as soon as he touched a spot that felt different from the rest of your squishy walls, Sylus noticed the way you clenched around his finger, mouth falling open, yet no sound coming out.

“Feel good, kitten?” His lips barely left your pussy before diving back in. As he continued to stroke that spot, he suctioned his mouth around your clit, watching with amusement and a little bit of pain as your legs tried to close around his head once again. Your fingernails scratched at his scalp, a few hairs probably coming out, but he couldn’t care less as he watched pleasure overtake you.

Your orgasm came barreling down on you like a wall of bricks, your chest heaving as you ground down onto Sylus’ face to chase the aftershocks of the high. His finger inside you still played with that spot, tongue lightly licking at your clit as your nerves exploded. The way you clenched around his finger had him wondering, how good would that feel wrapped around his cock?

“There you go, kitten.” His voice surrounded you, coaxing you through your high until your hips twitched and your hand pressed against his forehead. Overstimulation caused your nerves to stand on end, your clit sensitive even as he breathed out a sigh against you. “You look so beautiful when you cum.”

When he sat up on his knees, you could see the prominent tent on his sweatpants, eyes wide as he brought his finger to his lips. The rest of your orgasm was cleaned from his finger, yet his chin still glistened with your juices.

“Can you take one more?” His hand was dipped under the waistband of his sweatpants, wrapping around his length. Oh, how he wished it was your pussy, or your hand, perhaps even your mouth, but that could wait. He needed to be inside you. “I want to see you come undone around my cock, kitten.”

As you caught your breath, you watched him gently stroke himself. If he was feeling any pleasure, he didn’t let it show, his lips set in a fine line as he awaited your answer. Precum leaked from his tip, staining the front of his pants as you nodded, swallowing the saliva in your throat before speaking.

“Please, I need you, Sylus.” Your eyes locked with his, legs spreading further and fingers threatening to tear his sheets. “I need you to fuck me.”

A low chuckle vibrated his chest as he stepped off the bed, hands already pushing down his sweatpants. Sylus bit back a hiss as the cold air settled on his throbbing cock, standing at attention and leaking precum all for you. “Your wish is my command, kitten.”

His body towered over yours, mind reeling as you took in his size. He was huge, and while you had experimented with dildos before, nothing could compare to the sight of him. The thought of the stretch was both intimidating and arousing; your bottom lip sucked into your mouth as he settled back between your legs.

“I can assure you I’m clean.” He started, stroking himself as his nose brushed yours. “As long as your okay with it, I’d like to fuck you raw, feel all of you around me so that I know what every inch of you feels like.” His words make you clench your empty hole, wanting so badly to be filled by him. The way he spoke had goosebumps blossoming across your arms, his breath fanning your face as his tip rubbed against your folds. “I’ll fetch condoms for next time. Just allow me this pleasure, kitten.”

The hand that wasn’t on his cock sat on your hip, thumb gently caressing your side. The feeling of his tip pressing against your clit had you gasping, a low hum coming from your chest as you nodded your head. “I’m on birth control.” Your eyes met his, and you leaned forward to kiss him. “I want to feel every inch of your cock.”

Your hand trailed down to wrap around him, a vein pulsing under your skin. Sylus’ lips met yours, a slow, languid kiss pausing the atmosphere for just a moment. The feeling of your hand on him, your thumb passing over his tip, and the way you lined him up with your entrance… Sylus wasn’t sure just how long he could last.

The kiss was broken when Sylus opened his mouth, a low groan erupting from his throat as pleasure spiked through him. His imagination couldn’t hold a flame to how your hand felt around him. Slowly, he pushed himself in, the stretch causing you to hiss.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” Sylus gritted his teeth, slowing down even further despite feeling your velvet walls begging him to go deeper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His grip on your hips tightened as he pressed into you more; half of his length now passed through your entrance. You could already feel him against your sensitive spot, your mouth open in a perpetual scream as you tried not to clench around him. With each inch, you felt your stomach flip, and it wasn’t until his pelvis was pressed against yours that you let out a breath.

A small tuft of hair tickled your clit as you wiggled your hips, relaxing around his length and getting used to him filling every part of you. As he adjusted himself, his hips tilted, his tip pressing right against a spot that had stars appearing behind your eyelids. One of his hands moved to where yours rested on the pillow, palm up. Gently, he filled the spaces between your fingers, holding onto your hand. Kisses were pressed against your face, his own breathing labored as he kept his composure.

“Fuck, you’re so big.” You breathed against his neck, your hand squeezing his. Seconds seemed to tick on forever as you laid still, your breaths becoming synced. Eventually, you felt your hips relax, your legs opening just a bit more to help accommodate him. With a deep breath, you looked up at the man above you, a small smile gracing your lips. “You can move, Sylus.”

It took him a few seconds to respond, his hips moving slowly back. Emptiness filled you as his tip rested against your entrance. His nose brushed against yours, and he leaned down to kiss you. As you were in a liplock, he thrust forward, listening to the gasp from your mouth and the soft clap of his balls on your ass. He pulled out again, your moans swallowed by his mouth as he began to pick up the pace.

Sylus groaned, pulling away from your lips. As much as he hated not feeling your lips on his, he had no choice. He had to hear you. Your sweet moans greeted his ears as he looked down, watching where he disappeared in you. Each pullback showed his cock shining with your juices, and each thrust forward had his abs flexing as you sucked him back in.

The pleasure you brought him was unimaginable, and there wasn’t anything he could do to get enough of you. He had been yearning for you for centuries; it was overwhelming now that he finally had you.

“Kitten.” His pants turned to groans of your name as he squeezed your hand hard. The loud squelching and slap of his balls on your ass rang through the room. His thrusts slowed as he sat up, eyes trailing across your body. The marks on your neck and thighs, the heaving of your chest as pleasure coursed through you, everything was his.

Your hips circled his pelvis, feeling him hit new depths within you. A pang of pain and pleasure shocked you as you felt his tip hit your cervix. He was so deep, the throbbing of his cock now causing everything in your own body to throb. It felt like every atom of your bodies were connected, and no matter how evil he seemed, your soul could never give him up.

“Sylus,” You moaned, the hand that wasn’t grasped in his resting on his abdomen. Your nails lightly scratched his skin, and he nearly doubled over. He really liked it.

With your noises spurring him on, he ground his pelvis into yours, hand moving down and thumb rubbing circles on your clit. He needed you to finish because he knew he was very close himself. You had to come first.

“Come for me, kitten.” He whispered your name against your lips, hips stuttering and grinding against you. The thumb on your clit pressed harder, and you felt your muscles freeze; a loud - louder than all the previous ones - moan that bordered on a scream echoed through his empty house as you came. Maybe it was because he was buried so deep inside you that you felt so full and satisfied, but this orgasm felt different.

Your entrance clenched around him, your release surrounding his cock as he paused, buried inside you. With a low growl, you felt warmth - borderline hot - as his seed filled the minimal space that remained. Your lips tingled, clit pulsing as you felt his cock twitch, each time sending another spurt of cum right against your cervix.

“Fuck, sweetie.” Sylus cursed, pulling out of you slowly and watching with satisfaction and curiosity as your mixed releases trailed out of your used hole. Something like an animalistic urge came over him; he collected the leaking cum, pressing it gently back into you. Your hips twitched, and you tried to close your legs, but overstimulation and exhaustion crept into your muscles.

“You’re so beautiful, look so perfect, stuffed with my cum.” Sylus lays down on the bed, his cock softening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands smoothed down your back, massaging a few of the tight muscles he finds on his exploration.

When you lay your head on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, a steady rhythm that, no matter how much danger he was in, was completely calm. That time, you noticed the slight uptick in speed, his breaths coming quicker. The pleasure overwhelmed him, everything about you smothering him and causing his chest to tighten. His heart - which always stayed at the same steady beat - quickened as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

Your bare chests pressed against each other as silence fell across the house. The feeling of Sylus’ and your come leaking from you caused you to lift your head, a somewhat disgusted look on your face. “Sylus.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, awaiting whatever you were going to say. His own head was a bit cloudy, the aftermath still settling like dust on old books. “Yes, kitten?” The rough hands that held you like a piece of glass halted their movements.

“Can we take a shower?” You tried to close your legs, your juices starting to pool on Sylus’ abdomen. “The feeling of your cum leaking out of me is uncomfortable.”

Sylus chuckled, storing that little tidbit of information for the future. He sat up, wrapping his arms around your thighs and standing. Slowly walking towards the bathroom, he nuzzled his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent and feeling himself start to get hard again.

“Does that mean we can have round two and get clean at the same time?” He mused, his thumb brushing close to your core as he turned the water on.

“I’ll think about it.” Although he had just heard you screaming his name, you laughed, and Sylus determined that your laugh was his new favorite sound. Stepping into the shower, you reached out to your boyfriend. “Maybe you can help me wash my hair?”

Nodding, Sylus stepped in, joining you as steam clouded the mirror. The cat ears you had on earlier sat on the pillowcase, a reminder of Sylus’ nickname for you and its effect on him. Maybe you should wear it more often…

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okwonyo · 3 months ago

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MY LIPS DON’T LIE ◟ being your first kiss 𓈒

𝗜𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗭𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗘 ✶ ────── 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 ？ 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽.

❪ 𝖯𝖤𝖠𝖱𝒍𝖲 ❫ ｡ exp!enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ◞ ◟ fluff pre relationship ── kissing skinship

骚人 ܃ wrote this in a rush ! 🍀

reblogs⠀⠀ꢾ꣒⠀ feedbacks please + more

HEESEUNG

he notices it right away. at the way you press your eyes close— shy, apprehensive and nervous. from where his stand, a staircase below you. it makes him want to kiss you even more that before.

he is nervous as well, but he tries to control himself. you are too in your head to notice his blush and the way his hands slightly tremble as he gets closer. but he wants to kiss so bad.

“i’ll be nice,” his mouth is a few inches closer to yours as he whispers those words. of course, it comes out as flirty and teasing without him intending to, “i promise, baby.”

the nickname makes you smile, giggling a little. it also makes a pink taint spread on your cheek as well as his tender and exploring kisses.

JAY

“are you nervous?” you’re straddling on his thighs, knees digging in the couch beneath you, your arms around his neck as he asks. he watches your face heat up even more, your eyes darting away.

his hands rub comforting circles on your hips. you press you lips together before answering, “yes,” and it gets a fond chuckle out of him. the adoration in his eyes makes your dizzy, even though you are not looking at him.

“hey, look at me,” he commands softly. his fingers tips brush against your skin before he holds your chin between his index finger and thumb to get your already earned attention, “i’m nervous too.”

his lips connect to yours for a shirt while. your eyes flutter close when he starts to land kisses on your nose, and your cheeks, and your chin, and your forehead.

JAKE

flabbergast is drawn all over his face; his eyes grow wide while he looks at your blushing face, his mouth falls agape at the thought of your pretty lips never touching anyone else’s and he is desperately happy about it.

he needs a minute to process the information. he closes his mouth the opens it again, “seriously?” he is in pure disbelief. and it’s not his intention to make you even more nervous but he does “a pretty girl like you?”

the way you don’t respond makes his consuming need to kiss you increase. he wants to hold it together when he kisses you, but he can’t help how he tilts his head to the side to get a better taste of you.

he pulls back, face red and breathing heavily. “let’s leave it off here,” he chuckles with his arms around your waist. “i won’t be able to hold myself back.”

SUNGHOON

he is nice with you. so gentle and tender. he holds your waist as you are pinned against the wall, his lips are dulcet against your own. you hold onto his shirt firmly, feeling the weakness in your legs getting bigger.

he holds back. you can feel it at the way he groans. to his defense, you simply drive him crazy and even more when you add between a quick break, “don’t hold back, please.”

he stays still for a moment. his breath is heavy, lips red and swallowed. he breathes out a curse word as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. after his breath gets steady, he faces you again, “you’re too good to me.”

the next kiss doesn’t take long to deepen. his head tilts to the side in the goal of shoving his tongue deeper into your mouth. he hums into your mouth as your grip on his clothe gets tighter.

SUNOO

finds the shyness followed by your murmured confession beyond cute. he can’t help but bite down a smile, it’s unsuccessful as it gets wider the more he looks at you.

“don’t worry,” his tone is reassuring, fond, adoring as he is a few inches away from you. he pulls you closer by your hips, and gives you a head up before the kiss. “it’s just me, sweetheart.”

it starts by a swift kiss. it feels similar to what a petal falling on your lips would; so quick, so light and you miss it as soon as he pulls back. the kisses get longer, deeper as the moment goes on.

he praises you between all of them. which earns him a cute noise each time, he likes that; “you are doing so good, sweets.”

JUNGWON

he really tries to, he swears to everything dear to him that he does try. but he can’t help. when he watches how your gaze looks at anything but his face and how shy you just gotten.

he can’t help but tease you about it; “you’re so cute,” it would be a compliment, a lovely compliment even, if he didn’t have this smile creeping on his kissable lips.

he cups your face, in a loving gesture, before pressing his palms on your cheeks. it makes them puckered, more red than they normally are. he loves how your voice is muffled as you tell him to stop.

yet, no matter how mad you can be, you let him kiss you. once, then twice, then thrice. so much that at some point, he just goes for multiplying pecks on your mouth.

RIKI

“wait,” he is so close to you already. tickles are felt in your lips whenever he breathes, when he moves, his mouth brushing over yours. with your hand on his chest, you can feel his heart beating fast.

he pulls away immediately and his hands hold your arms delicately during the time he studies your face. “what’s wrong?” he asks you, with a tone filled with sudden worry. “did i make you uncomfortable?”

his chest releases his holding breath when you shake you head, in a motion that he finds adorable. “it’s just—” his gaze doesn’t help with the growing embarrassment. “i’m not experienced.”

he seems taken aback at your words. the man gawk at you, “what—” he starts in a chuckle. this makes you hide your face in his chest out of shyness. he puts his hand on the back of your head in hope to reassure you and you know he is smiling when he speaks again, “it’s fine, you can experience with me.”

taglist open + net— @sgz-net CLICK

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sadagios · 4 months ago

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Icarus, and the Sunflower

PART TWO: UNFIXABLE ERROR

PILOT: PART ONE

3.4k words below the cut

SOME BEGINNING NOTES: - This AU is only character shipping, and references a lot outside the life series events (evo, hermitcraft, empires, etc). This is not meant to ship the CC’s themselves and if anything alludes to it, it is purely unintentional. - This is not canon-compliant ermmmm i do what i want and i will put every idea i have into this - No more bullet points this time... taking off the baby wheels - This is to add more to the first part! Please read that one before this if you haven't - Tags for this part? Game dev AU, Past BigB/Grian, a lot of BigGri flirting, some characters are real and some are fictional, this is only the pilot (part 2!), Grian is still down bad for Scar, absolutely not beta'd i only have one impulsive braincell, contains some fake chats

I. HALLOWEEN

The game awards have been announced, and it was the talk of the company. Evolutionists’ Portal has been online for 4 months now, and it built itself a dedicated fan base with a peak of about 80k players a month. Updates were still on the way, scheduled for Halloween and Christmas Day.

The team working on Evolutionists’ Portal hoped for a nomination, and maybe even an award. Gria hoped for this, as well, but he was too tired to even think with everything on his plate. Their art director quit suddenly, so he was carrying out two big roles, but even when the past art director was there, he was basically doing most of his work.

The team took notice of his exhaustion and invited him to the company Halloween party. Gria didn’t want to, but Martyn had a brilliant idea for making a bet: Gria believed they would get one nomination, and Martyn believed it would be two. If Gria wins, Martyn will get him breakfast every day until Christmas. If Martyn wins, Gria has to wear an outfit to the party of his choosing. Gria thought it was a harmless bet, and he’d actually benefit from it, so he agreed.

Jimmy is his closest friend in the company, but Jimmy was also busy with his work in Empires. There are talks of a big collaboration and he knows he can’t get ahold of Jimmy until it is settled. One morning, a cup of coffee appeared on his desk with a note attached to it that said,

“You might need a little boost in your morning.”

Gria had no idea who it could be from until he noticed a wrapped piece of warm, chocolate cookie beside the cup. He looked up from his desk and met eyes with Big B, who smiled and gave him a little wave before resuming his work.

His crush on Big B was no secret. The man is funny and handsome, and he and Gria started in the company together. Martyn was the first one to catch it, the way he gets giggly and embarrassed around Big B, and he’s been on Gria’s case since. Pearl found out about it through Martyn’s teasing, but she had the grace not to poke fun at Gria (only sometimes.) Jimmy still hasn’t caught on, and Martyn bursts out laughing every time Jimmy unintentionally third wheels or cockblocks Gria. Gria has an inkling that Big B might’ve noticed it, but he acts the same way around him, which Gria is thankful for.

The nominations were out the morning of the party, and they were nominated for “Best Multiplayer” and “Best Audio Design.” As soon as the news broke out, Martyn walked in stride to the art department and pulled Gria to the parking lot where Martyn’s car was parked. He opened the trunk, pulled something out, and gave it to Gria with a devilish grin.

Martyn: I’m so excited to meet such a popular singer tonight.

Gria peeked inside the dress cover, he wanted to die.

One night, the team went out drinking. Gria had a few more drinks than he should’ve. He doesn’t remember what happened, but Pearl recorded the whole thing; basically, he got so drunk that he started singing nothing but Ariana Grande songs. To put the final nail in the coffin, he might’ve sat on Big B’s lap as he sang one song.

Gria wore the outfit after being manhandled by everyone into wearing it. Big B wasn’t going to the party as he’d said days before, and while Gria was relieved not to embarrass himself, he also wished for Big B to be there.

Gria wore a ridiculously pink two-piece top and skirt, with a white furry shoal attached to gloves. Pearl also lent him her white boots, which surprisingly fit him well (and gave him a few inches.) The room cheered when he walked in, and he was too embarrassed to walk that Jimmy had to drag him around the room.

Pearl wore a cute green dress, which looked a lot like a character from Empires. Jimmy wore a Captain America costume, but instead of a star had a huge letter S at the middle of his chest. Martyn wore a pirate costume.

Martyn: What a shame Big B isn’t here to see this.

Martyn teased, and Gria wanted to strangle him right there. Then, without warning, a finger poked his cheek. Gria turned and there Big B was, holding a bloody axe in a bloody costume. Gria remembered the game Big B told him about, a zombie game called “The Creaking Dead.” It was one of the things that led them to become friends, their love for zombie games.

The night went by, celebrating both Halloween and their nominations. Empires also had their own share of nominations, and Jimmy was so giddy that night.

Pearl pulled them four to the photo booth before they could get more wasted. Jimmy grabbed a weird-looking fish beanie and Martyn put on a Mickey Mouse headband. Pearl put on a sunflower crown that fit the gold accents in her dress. They made sure to put Gria and Big B at the center of the photo, and Gria tried not to explode with how close they were. Big B suggested they take a Polaroid photo after for keepsake, and before Gria could head out of the room and go home, Big B gave him a Polaroid photo with a message written in Sharpie.

"Glad I came by today, G. Happy Halloween. ♡"

II. VALENTINE’S DAY

Gria and Big B have been talking and texting each other non-stop for months now. People assume they’re dating, but when Jimmy asked, he clarified that they had no label. It’s true; they haven’t done much. They hung around a lot, and they might’ve fooled around during cold December nights, but it was an unspoken, casual thing. At least, that’s what it was for Gria.

On Valentine’s day, Big B invited him for dinner, and everyone teased them about being lovebirds. That night, Big B finally asked Gria to be his boyfriend.

Gria was happy. Overjoyed. Someone as kind and thoughtful as Big B, who treats him so well, wanted them to be exclusive. He wanted Gria. But the smile on Gria’s face slowly faded as his happiness turned into dread. Big B is too nice for him. Too perfect for him. Too much for someone like him.

Gria turned him down without explaining further. He saw the hurt in Big B’s eyes, but the man still treated him the same: with adoration and care.

Big B drove him home, and that was the last time they talked outside of work.

III. MARCH

Gria finally took some time off. Aside from the upcoming April Fools update, there wasn’t much to be done. The tension between him and Big B has been too much to bear, and he can’t shake the guilt he feels each time Big B leaves a warm cup of coffee with a cute note on his desk.

He lurks on the internet, bored out of his mind. He met this person, PotatoNutshell, and became friends over Hermitopia 6.

IV. APRIL FOOLS

< Let's play like cats, let's count to three. >

The gang liked the Alpha version of “The Life Game.” The map is good (which makes Gria proud as he designed it,) and the mechanics are simple enough to get used to.

There are several problems, though. The motion blur is making everyone sick, and the one who had it the roughest was Joel. The UI is also unintuitive, as you have to look at your wrist to see the messages and your health status, which you can easily lose track of. Then, the computer AI characters are indistinguishable from each other. It was supposed to be a battle royal game, but with only the players having unique skins, it feels a bit more like player versus enemy than a competition.

It was understandable, though, that it didn't have much character customization. The remaining two working on the game are a writer and a programmer, and they have no 3D modeling experience at all. Gria figured he could help out and tinker with it when he had time, especially with how the gang loved the game despite all its flaws.

V. SUMMER, a year later

Gria’s old friends finally messaged him that they added more things to the game, and it might be enough for a beta test. The only thing they haven’t figured out is the character models. Gria confirmed if they were planning to release this game, and the two said “no, not yet. Not anytime soon.” That gave Gria all the liberty to simply tinker with the game just for their own enjoyment.

He asked the team if they had any characters they’d like to mod into the game, preferably with 3D models so they wouldn’t have to worry about rigging and animation too much. Skizzleman suggested Hermitopia characters, which Gria wouldn’t contest because this gives him a great excuse to add Scar into the game.

They needed one more character, and Gria remembered the Empires plush on Jimmy’s desk. The team gave him a free plushie of the “Starboy, The Rivendell King” because all plushies of the “Codfather” were sold out, the one Jimmy usually played as. Still, Jimmy keeps the Starboy plushie on his desk and sometimes carries it with him to the breakroom when he takes a short nap. Gria found the image of Jimmy carrying this plush to be adorable, although he will never say it aloud, so he decided to add Starboy as their final character. He also had Gemini and Shadow Lady (as per Joel’s request) 3D models ready, but he’ll probably add them next time. Pearl also isn’t joining their session for now, so it would be good to save her favorite character for another time.

On one Friday night in April, they all logged on and waited to connect to The Life Game’s private server. Gria was excited to play until he received a message from one of his old friends.

A slight chill crawls up Grian’s arm. He gripped his VR headset, a bit hesitant after his conversation with his old friends. After a moment, he shook off his nerves and wore his headset. He looked at the server status reading “5/6 Players” and hovered his controller over the button that would let him play with his friends. Grian ignored the warning bells and hit “Join World.”

VI. HELLO, WORLD

Gria spawned into the world, a bit dizzy from the sunlight blasting into his eyes. He got off on the ground and surveyed his surroundings, and it seemed like the map was different from the last time. In front of him looked like a ruined portal, which he doesn’t remember adding to the map years ago. Could this be something his old friends added to the map for the Evolutionists’ Portal developers to see? Gria smiled at the sentiment. He looted the chest near it, and it felt a bit like cheating. He joined the game late, but he already had golden gear in his first minutes of playing.

He did some resource gathering, something which they learned was crucial from their alpha test. He travelled and spotted a village, and saw Martyn’s character completely raiding it. Out of all of them, Martyn might have been the one who became so immersed in the gameplay. Even before playing, he was discussing tactics and plans in their call. If it ever came down to it, he knows Martyn would be a formidable opponent with how into it he is.

Gria traversed the map more until he hit the border. There’s no way to get through it, even if you force it. It also seemed like the friendly creatures weren't able to get past it. It’s a bit scary to think about how they’re stuck in this little box until only one of them remains. It’s a good thing all of this is just a game.

Being the creator of the maps for this game, Gria remembers where most of the biomes are on the map. He goes back to the village and spots Big B.

Excited and without thinking, he jumped in front of Big B and surprised him, which made Big B’s character jump back. But, when Big B met his eyes, he immediately laughed and smiled.

Before Big B could strike up a conversation, Joel’s voice could be heard from a distance, he looked just like himself in real life, but he wore a costume that reminded Gria of Shrek. He shot Big B a quick look and saw he was wearing something similar to his costume during one of their old Halloween parties. Martyn’s character seemed different, too.

Gria noticed the little shop icon on his screen. When he clicked on it, it opened a shop of a multitude of items that can be bought with experience points. He checked out the costume section and saw that costume accessories were fairly cheap. He bought himself a red sweater, and now his character feels more like him.

He noticed someone trailing behind Joel, a blazing head of fire and red eyes. It took him a while to realize that this was Tango Tek from Hermitopia. When he spoke, both Gria and Joel cranked their neck at him, surprised he could speak. Hermitopia had no voice lines. Despite this fact, Joel excitedly conversed with Tango, prompting him to speak more. Gria excused himself, confused at how this was possible.

He went off to gather more resources before he headed to the village. He saw Big B yet again, and his cheeks flushed at how many times he had seen him by himself. Gria’s a bit awkward around him, but Big B greets him with a smile each time.

Big B: Are you sneaking up on me, G? Gria, giggling: Hello there, B. Whatcha up to? Big B: Trying to survive the first night, and maybe even you? Gria: Well, I don’t think a danger. Not to you. Big B: A danger to my heart, maybe?

Gria bit his lip and walked away. Big B laughed behind him, and he couldn’t fight back his smile. He looked at the ground and saw Martyn’s faint green name tag. He grinned and turned to Big B, “Wanna scare Martyn?”

They made their way down Martyn’s mining hole, carefully, and they tried not to giggle like a bunch of kids sneaking out in the middle of the night. Gria heard Martyn, talking to himself, and he approached him behind before shouting, “Hey Martyn!”

The three hang around together in the mining hole, chatting and bickering while hoping to find diamonds. Martyn succeeds and even gives them two diamonds each for a sword. The two were dumbfounded at this generosity, and Gria gave Martyn his golden apple in return.

Martyn: I just gave you guys diamonds because we’re buddies, c’mon. Gria: You know what, you can have my most prized golden apple. Martyn: Ooh, what’s this do? Gria: It gives you extra hearts when you eat it. Martyn: You’re giving me hearts? Way to make Big B a third wheel. Big B: Oh my god.

Gria exploded into laughter at this, and Big B shook his head but smiled at the situation.

After the sun had risen, he parted ways with the two and spent his time around the village and looking for a place to stay. He came across another nametag below the ground, and he thought it might’ve been Jimmy. He went down and surprised the man, only to find that it wasn’t Jimmy.

When he heard Tango speak a while ago, he couldn’t figure out how it was possible. However, he did know of a game around an AI girlfriend who wouldn’t let you leave the house unless you said the right words. To think █████ could add such a feature, for AI to understand and speak back to you, all in a year is quite impressive and he would like to ask him more as soon as they finish playing. He didn’t listen carefully when Tango spoke earlier, and it might’ve been more robotic than he remembered. But now, as Ren screamed in surprise and spoke how Gria spooked the hell out of him, it sounded too much like a real person’s voice.

After mining a bit, Gria went out to the world and built a base at a lovely ravine area. Unfortunately, his resources weren’t enough to make it look pretty, and he suddenly missed the creative freedom he had while playing Hermitopia.

After being alone for so long. He made his way back to the village. Much to his surprise, so many people were there. At the side of the village, a group of characters in iron gear approached him. They excitedly called out his nametag, Grian, to greet him. Just like Ren and Tango’s voices, they all sounded so real. Too real.

Martyn, Big B, Jimmy, Skizz, and Joel were nowhere to be seen. He was surrounded by characters from a game he spent countless hours playing. They talk and bicker like they are real people, and they sound like real people would. Gria would never be able to think of better voices for them.

Among the four of them, one stood out the most. He had disheveled hair and a huge scar on his face that went down his neck. Despite having a cape and scarf covering most of his torso, Gria can’t pry his eyes off his huge, exposed right tit.

Completely distracted, something suddenly fell into his hands. It took him a while to process that this man held his hands and gave him flint and steel. Gria looked up, meeting the man’s eyes, and he had this devilish grin that made Gria’s knees weak. He turned his head higher and looked at the man’s nametag, “Scar Goodtimes”

Scar put his arm around Gria and made him face the village, and one of the houses were burning.

Scar: It was Grian! It was him who did it!

Gria couldn’t move. He couldn’t process what was happening, and he couldn’t care less about how Tango and Etho were trying their best to put out the fire. The man beside him, probably more than 6 feet tall, is Scar Goodtimes. He’s way different from what he remembered, he had shorter hair and markings instead of actual scars, but when he spoke, Gria might’ve melted into the ground if the man didn’t have his arm around him.

Scar: Geez, Grian, what a rapscallion burning down villages.

Scar grinned at him and gave him a wink. It was as if Gria’s hardware crashed. Cleo, BDubs, and Impulse were all talking to him, even playing their jukebox for him, but his mind was filled with one thing and one thing only.

“His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so hot. His voice is so—”

Something nudged Gria, and Scar was so close to his face that Gria thought he could be hallucinating. Scar whispered into his ear, asking for the flint and steel back, and he complied without a second thought. He gave him a grin before he ran off to the village. Etho and Tango followed suit in panic.

Gria finally breathed. He doesn’t know how this could be possible. He had organized an unofficial voice cast for Hermitopia before, but the chosen voice actor was so off the mark, and everyone else liked it but Gria. But now, Scar’s whisper loops in his head, and he would go to war just to argue that no actor can replicate the sound his ears had been blessed with.

While talking to Etho and Impulse, he saw the historical tree burn. Scar walked in stride and stood beside Gria, waiting for Etho to take notice. Gria and Scar share a mischievous smile as Etho runs to the burning tree. Scar watched the tree burn down, and Gria watched the fire illuminate his face.

Scar: Grian, want to take over the desert with me? Gria: Me? Scar: Yeah, you. Let’s make all the sand ours.

This marks the End of Pilot

Next > ACT ONE: STUCK IN THE DESERT

ENDING NOTES: Took a while to finish this one! supposedly there's more, but it was getting too long so I had to cut it here. The next update will be a bigger one, so it might take months before that is posted. I also plan to do more character design before moving forward with the actual life series events. If you've read this far, thank you for reading!

#desertduo #scarian #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #grian #goodtimeswithscar #life series #mcyt #AU - Scarian Death Game #my art #my writing #Icarus and the Sunflower

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