#and i just have to scream into a pillow for a bit

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: ALRIGHT GUYS finally something angsty and involving an argument or smth vaguely saying that ahem ANYWAYS!! suku here is a bit of an ass but he will redeem himself guys dont worry. i love you all!! to the new readers — read more here!!

“can you piss off already?”

“i’m not in the mood, go fucking yap to someone else.”

“we wouldn’t be doing this shit if you just stopped being so fucking clingy!”

the hurt flashing in your big eyes tells him that he shut his mouth a little bit later than he initially should have.

sukuna sighs when you run out of the room, unable to hold in your sobs like you usually would, and sits down on the couch of your living room. to be honest, he doesn’t even know what came over him at this moment. or for the last half an hour he’s been pouring all of his anger at you.

recalling the previous week is not the most pleasant thing, but that’s all he can do right now to cool down. there is nothing to reminisce about; it’s been a very frustrating week, where jin was a lot busier than usual, their old man needed more care, the worry for yuuji being left alone ate both of them from inside and out, work has become more annoying than fulfilling, and all sukuna wanted to do was to be left alone, which is why coming over to your place was a mistake.

not because of you, but him. he could’ve texted you that he is tired and is going home instead, yet somehow his mind was stuck on seeing you tonight and his muscle memory led him to the familiar warmth of the street you lived on. it didn’t comfort him, like usually.

sukuna never thought he could scream at you like he did. you probably never thought either; the genuine fright and terror on your face told him a million of things, a million stop signs, yet he only continued going off on you.

you just expressed to him how you wanted to spend a little more time with him, how you wanted to help him decompress and relax, how much you cared about him — you didn’t deserve his ugly yelling and his angry attitude.

oh man, he fucked up.

he rubs his face roughly, barely able to stop himself from tearing his skin off, and stands up from his spot. for a minute, he contemplates whether he should even try to fix anything tonight — if you would even want that.

sukuna presses his ear against your door, hand tugging down the handle simultaneously, but to no avail. as disappointment washes over him, he realises that you’ve locked the door. is it a sign that he should just go home? probably.

he can’t do that though.

he knocks, loud enough for you to at least notice, “baby? can you let me in?”

sukuna doesn’t know that on the other side of the door, you barely stop yourself from jumping off the bed to open the door for him. your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you press your back into the headboard, clutching the blanket tighter as you gnaw on your bottom lip, stifling down your sobs.

you want to let him in so badly despite how much he hurt you.

it’s something you can’t control, something that has you curling into yourself, as far as you can so you can ignore the twitching in your limbs and keep yourself away from him. you only wanted to help and seeing his anger being directed at you made you further confused about what you did wrong.

subconsciously, you know that it’s not about you. but you still can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe… maybe sukuna needs a girlfriend who is less overbearing than you. someone who understands him better, understands when they need to back off and let him be, and not try to fix everything with their love. maybe.

you bury your face in your pillow, effectively muffling down your cries while sukuna continues to knock on your door from time to time.

he guesses that you fell asleep so he stops knocking as he sits down on the floor with a small groan. the couch looks a lot more inviting than the hard floor, however sukuna can’t bring himself to be too far from you so he finds that it’s okay, he’ll wait for you.

he doesn’t even know when he falls asleep; realising that he was, in fact, sleeping when the door behind him suddenly opened and he is fully sprawled over the floor. “fucking hell—“ he curses under his breath, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his face before he glances up, meeting your nervous gaze. with the pain in his whole body forgotten, sukuna stands up abruptly, his face softening when he notices how you step away from him.

“sukuna? were you… sleeping on the floor?” you ask, your voice sounding a little hoarse as you look up at him unsurely.

he swallows, face scrunching up at the dryness in his mouth, and steps closer to you, closing the door behind himself.

“can we talk, baby?”

you look down and nod solemnly, walking back to your bed while he follows you like a lost puppy. sukuna’s fingers twitch with desire to touch you, any part of you. you crawl away from him though, backing yourself into the corner. covering, protecting yourself from him.

“i— uh, i didn’t mean all of that, y’know that, right?”

you stay silent, small fingers curling around the edges of your blanket.

“tell me you know it, baby, please—”

your voice comes out unsteady when you finally speak up, abused bottom lip trembling as you sniffle, “i don’t think i do, ‘kuna~”

sukuna reaches his hand out, tentative fingers creeping closer to you in an attempt to observe your reactions. your eyes follow his movements and you stare at his hand for a little while before your features fade into something too pitiful for him to grasp. as soon as he calls you by your name you start sobbing violently.

all of the hesitation leaves his mind as he immediately pulls you into himself and positions you between his spread out legs, arms wrapping around your body and tucking your head into his neck. it’s the worst feeling in the world because he is the reason why your fragile soul is rattling in hurt and agony. god, he wants to fucking punch himself in the face repeatedly, and even then it wouldn’t be enough for him to feel like he’s apologetic enough.

sukuna brushes your hair away from your face, hand sliding down to caress the side of it, but his movements still as soon as he hears your small voice,

“you didn’t have to be s-so mean about it.” you gaze up at him with eyes full of tears, “i could’ve taken your anger, but not… n-not that.”

placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, sukuna goes back to look you in the eyes, making sure his sincerity is apparent.

“‘m so sorry, baby, i don’t fucking deserve you.”

you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle down another round of sobs and hide your face from him once again, arms circling around his neck.

you don’t give him a clear answer. sukuna is ready to wait for however long it takes.

[4unnyr0se]

Could I ask for Akaashi, Osamu, Kenma, and Bokuto + them giving oral?

❥ til your teeth rot! | akaashi, osamu, kenma, bokuto

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, cunnilingus (duh), praise, degrading, overstimulation, face sitting, semi-public sex, osamu's accent, kenma is v lazy, fingering

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 1.8k

a/n: i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so i'm sorry if its awful

got a request? my ask are open!

❥ Keiji Akaashi | Slow and steady

Akaashi eats your pussy like it’s made of glass like it could break at any moment. Every flick of his tongue, every sucking motion on your clit is calculated based on your previous reaction. Did you mewl louder when he harshly sucked on your sensitive bud? He’ll apply more pressure next time, hopefully earning another one of your adorable moans. 

Just because he was calculated to give pleasure does not mean he was inexperienced or selfish. Absolutely not. He could never dream of denying you anything you so plainly desired. All you had to was flash him those beautiful, sparking eyes of yours, and you would be on your back, legs spread, and moaning like an amateur pornstar while Akaashi made you cum for the second time that day.

He never rushes you through your orgasm, he doesn’t think that being intimate with you is some kind of game. It’s a puzzle that he simply wants to solve. His tongue is achingly slow against your folds, making the most precious moments between the two of you last longer. He is savoring each bit of your sweet nectar, and he fucking loves it. 

K-Keiji!” you sobbed, your hands flying to his neat mess of dark curls, desperate for purchase. Your legs were wrapped around his shoulders, just in case he would try to flee. Akaashi fucking loved it when you trapped him between your legs, it made him feel like the two of you were the last people on earth. “Gonna cum!”

Akaashi smiled against your folds, his tongue pausing momentarily. “I know, pretty girl. Wanna fall apart on my tongue again? I love it when you do that.” he praised, diving back to make out with your core. His tongue slipped past your entrance, the tip of the wet muscle gliding in and out with ease. His soft hands squeezed the inside of your thighs, rolling the supple and soft flesh between his fingers. 

Your head was rested on the pillow beneath you, hair growing knotted and messy whilst your thighs trembled in Akaashi’s grasp. His nose rubbed against your clit so deliciously, the additional stimulation pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm washed over you as you cried in pleasure, his name leaving your lips over and over again. Akaashi purred at the sensation of your release coating his mouth and tongue, pulling away once your high had subsided.

“Amazing job, pretty girl. You did so well for me.” he praised, wiping your slick from his chin. He leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, lingering just long enough for you to taste your own release. “See how delicious you are, darling? So unbelievably perfect for me.”

❥ Osamu Miya | No time to lose

Osamu eats your pussy like he has somewhere to be at all times like he’s in a hurry. Being the owner of a popular rice ball spot keeps him occupied most of the time (as well as dealing with his pain-in-the-ass older brother), so when he finds a free moment to be intimate with you, he makes sure he makes himself efficient. 

Even though Osamu is the more relaxed and lazy twin, he’s never lazy in the bedroom. His usually tired and ‘over this’ attitude would melt away the second you two shared a longing kiss, his body being taken over by some kind of insatiable desire. He’s driven by his motivation to make you scream his name for the shop next to him to hear. His tongue lashes at your pussy like a man starving in the middle of a desert. 

If there’s a rare lull in customers entering and exiting his onigiri shop, he’ll change the ‘open’ sign to a ‘come back later’ sign and text you to be in the back of his shop ASAP. And, of course, you’re there in less than ten minutes, your skirt flipped up and your hands supporting your weight on the steel countertop as his tongue ravishes your cunt, drinking in your slick like honey.

“Stay fuckin’ still,” Osamu groaned into your heat, slapping the inside of your thighs. “I can’t make ya cum if yer wigglin’, sweets.” that was a lie. He was a liar. He could make you cum regardless of how much you were moving, he didn’t matter to him. But if you writhed around so much that it caused some ingredients to fall onto the floor, then it became a problem. 

“S-sorry ‘Samu! Fuck!” you moaned, your hands gripping onto the steel material of the counter for dear life as his tongue hungrily, your sweet nectar coating his tongue beautifully. It was the best alcohol he could ever wish to taste. “M’close!”

“Ya better fuckin’ be. I only got five minutes before those fuckers wonder why the shop ain’t open,” his words sent vibrations through your core, your clit painfully pulsating. The rough pad of this thumb swirled around the sensitive bud, pressing against it harshly. “Be a good girl and fuckin’ cum already, yeah? Gotta open up soon, sweets.”

Osamu finally flattened his tongue in the way that drove you over the edge, still swirling your bud with his rough thumb. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned, lapping up your release eagerly. “Taste so fuckin’ good for me.”

He pulled himself out from between your thighs, wiping off his chin with the backside of his hand. Osamu stood up and pecked the top of your head, playfully slapping your soaked cunt. “Get outta here, I got customers to serve.” he also had to sanitize his countertop hard. 

❥ Kenma Kozume | Suffocate him

Kenma will only eat you out if you sit on his face. Not hover, not dangle, fucking sit on it. Despite being a CEO and a popular streamer, this man is lazy as hell. Typically, you do all the work during sex. Bouncing on his cock, sucking him off, etc. But on the rare occasion Kenma wants to eat you out, you still have to pull a heavy load. He is not getting up off his ass by any means, so you might as well cooperate with him. He’s stubborn as a fucking mule.

Kenma was a selfish lover, and he didn’t want to change that. He liked being taken care of and not putting much effort into it. He’s already so successful. Why should he do more work than he already is? That’s so exhausting. But how could he refuse when his pretty girlfriend practically paws at him to help get her off? He’s lying on the bed in a minute, gesturing to you to tear off those pretty red panties and take away his ability to breathe.

“Ride my fucking face,” Kenma groans into your core, squeezing your ass with hands as your hips buck into his mouth wildly. He loved it when you got like this, so desperate and needy for his tongue. His tongue plunged into your sobbing cunt over and over again, eliciting the cutest moans from your pretty lips.

“Fuck, Kenma!” you whimpered, your hands grasping the mahogany headboard like it was the last lifeboat on board. Your ground your clit onto his nose, mewling pathetically as his tongue lashed at your most intimate parts. Kenma savored your sweet honey, adoring how it nicely coated his tongue. Maybe he should make you fit on his face more often. 

His deep brown hair stuck to his forehead, the skin slick with sweat as the tip of his tongue traced meaningless shapes on your clit, occasionally nibbling at the sensitive bud. He knew you were close. The way your entire body was shaking was a dead fucking giveaway. That, and his name practically being screamed repeatedly, was also a good sign. “Gonna cum? Do it, princess. Make a mess on me.”

And you did, your orgasm spilling all over your boyfriend’s cute face. Your writing stopped, with Kenma slapped your ass, indicating that you should get off. You sighed and chose to straddle his lap, pecking his nose gently. “Thank you, baby, that was amazing.”

“Did you think we were finished?” Kenma groaned, resting his arms behind his head. “You got me really fucking hard, princess. How about you take care of that for me, yeah?”

❥ Kotaro Bokuto | Pure addiction

Boktuo fucking loves eating you out. Whenever you mentioned that you were horny, he would drag you into his bed and plunge his face into your thighs until he got you to coat your inner thighs with your release. He could never get enough of you and how good you tasted. How you would only crave his tongue and his fingers on your most imitate parts. 

He didn’t fucking care when or where you were horny, he was more than happy to make you scream in pleasure. Whispering to him in a cafe? He locked the bathroom and had you sitting on the sick, your dress bunched up at your hips, and your stockings ripped so your soaking cunt could be displayed just for him. Woke up at two in the morning from a wet dream? No problem, he had you riding his face while he jerked his fat cock to the sounds you made. Did you also wanna suck him off? No problem, baby! You were sixty-nining until the rooster screeched. Truly, Bokuto was addicted to eating you out. 

“Why are you covering your mouth, baby? I wanna hear your moans,” Bokuto groaned into your cunt, eagerly lapping up your slick like a man gone mad. Your trembling body was pinned against the bathroom door of your favorite restaurant, your skirt pushed upwards, and your soaked panties dangled off your ankles while Bokuto whispered pure filth into your cunt. “Don't you wanna let all those people out there know how good my tongue can make you feel?”

“Ngh, we’ll get in trouble, Kotaro!” you whispered, doing your best to keep your voice at an acceptable level while your boyfriend spelled his name with your tongue, eliciting a sharp squeak in return. “F-fuck, don’t stop!”

“Yeah? You wanna cum on my face in a public bathroom, hm? God, you’re so fucking hot. How’d I get so lucky?” he purred against your clit, swirling the tip of his tongue over the throbbing bud. “You taste so fucking good, holy shit. Way better than lunch.”

His index and ring finger bullied their way inside of you, curling at the spot that made you instantly cum all over his face. He didn’t stop sucking on your folds when your orgasm hit, his fingers still scissoring deep inside of your broken cunt. Your hand slapped over your mouth, covering out your molten cries of ecstasy.

“Good fucking girl, I’m so proud of you.” Bokuto praised, licking off his tongue as he stared at your ruined state. He pulled your panties up and your dress down, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Now, do you wanna go back home and cum again, hm?

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/752847373085081600/i-wanna-miss-fratpeters-nose-so-badly

how does he react!!

THAT SENT TOO FAST I WASNT FINISHED😭

does he get shy?? does he pretend he’s unaffected or is he like do it again and again and again!!!🥹

--

soft!frat!peter <3

'what was that?'

you surprise attacked him with a kiss and went right back to watching tv, but this kiss wasn't on his mouth or his cheek so he's a tad bit confused.

'a little kissy.' it happened too quick. he saw a flash, felt a quick peck and you were submerged into netflix like nothing happened. 'want another?' it was rhetorical, you push up to place another to the same spot.

'why my nose?'

you steal another. 'why not?' and another. you go for a third after his bashful laugh, you swear you see a hint of pink coat his cheeks. 'i don't know, i've never had one, i guess.'

sometimes peter drops his lack of intimacy a little too casually. this is one of those times, how has no one ever given him nose kisses?

'have you ever felt like you wanna kiss every inch of me? not in a sexual way, but like, you wanna kiss me because i'm so cute?'

'i'm scared you'll read into my answer.' that's a total yes.

'well, there's a bunch of different types of kisses, so you're welcome for showing you another.' peter bids for your attention. 'what are the different types of kisses?'

'hm,' you sit up to straddle his lap. 'i mean, you know about this one.' a light peck to his forehead. 'and this one,' another on his cheek. your lips brush over his as you whisper, 'and you love this kind.' your hand on his chest tells you your guess was right.

'what else is there?' warm hands rest on your thighs, peter's speaking softly with his focus on you and you only. you could tease him, but you're going to take this delicate moment and file it away to replay when you’re questioning if he’s worth waiting around for. 

'you just learned about this one.' peter didn't know he could like attention on his nose so much. but when it comes from you, of course he does.

'any more?' he doesn't want it to end.

'how about an eskimo kiss?' peter's heard of them, but he's never had one so he pretends like he doesn't know what it is. you lean down to push your nose against his, you dig in at the last second before pulling away.

'the harder you do it, the more you love them.' you're not sure if that's true or not, but you heard it somewhere and it's nice to think about. 'that seems dangerous, you might end up with a broken nose.' you could scream about the undertone of his sentence, but you won't. it's another thing to file away.

'then you might like butterfly kisses.'

'what's-' peter stops, little flutters dance over his cheeks. his heart pounds hard, a swirl of matching insects take flight in his stomach.

'what do you think about that one?'

'do it again.' you cup his face before blinking against his skin.

it's airy, a hint of something youthful, wholesome, comforting. it's like stepping outside and feeling the sun coat over your arms, heating you from the inside out, gifting you with warmth you didn't know you needed or lacked.

it reminds him of you.

it's his favorite.

'you like them?' there's no question this time, he's got a full on blush. 'can i have another?' he savors the tickle. you give a finale, sealing it with an overdramatic 'muah!' against his lips.

'i like your flutter kisses.' you finger comb his hair, laying down any stray pieces from moving around on his pillow. 'you can have flutter kisses whenever you want.'

peter doesn't need to be told twice.

'flutter kisses. i demand more butterflies.'

'be careful, you might attract a whole swarm.'

peter makes prayer hands and mouths a 'thank you,' with his eyes closed before going dead weight underneath you.

'i'm ready to be suffocated.' 

[cute-sucker]

reader playing chappell roan in the car when rafe drives her places and he acts like he hates it but ends up learning all the words to all the songs because she plays it so much 😓😓

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

rafe hates when you chose the song, especially when you give him that shit-eating smile.

it's always some hyper pop, with a cheery girl singing. he's just gotten around sabrina carpenter in your car, and that happened through pure force. every single time it was your time to choose to a song, you'd either put on "expresso," or "feather," it was your little ritual. at first it was cute, the way your eyes would lighten up with happiness, your little smile widening as you sang.

rafe even found himself humming to some of the songs, "please, please, please," stuck in his head. one time you teased him so much infront of his friends, he had to toss you off his shoulder, the middle finger in the air.

"sweets, you can't tell people i listen to that-" he tells you patiently, as you preen under his touch, "nah, listen-"

"no! i like that you listen to what i listen to-" you mewl, before pressing your manicured hands on his chest. "rafe, please!"

as we already know, rafe really can't say 'no,' to you. no matter what, people always see you bouncing to another pop song, a cheery smile on his face.

"no! no, this is crazy. last night topper got me a sabrina carpenter body pillow? and then they said it was for me to sleep with-"

then suddenly you press the volume toggle in the car, glaring at him, "rafe. if you love me, you have to love my music."

and then off you go with another singer.

rafe groaned, as he stared in confusion at the new singer, "chappell roan,' it read out, and you gave him a blinding smile before pressing the toggle to start the song.

"h, o, t, t, o, g, o!" you screamed, "you can take me 'hot to go'!"

"who can blame a girl? call me hot, not pretty!" you mouthed with a faux expression, practically dancing to the music. rafe rolled his eyes, before licking his lips to put the truck in park. that was the way it worked, he tolerated your music, and you dressed up for him all cute and bubbly, a girlfriend that made him look good.

but one time, you swore you watched him hum to the music. your eyes widened with shock, "did i just hear you humming?"

rafe's bit his lips, squirming in his seat "it's stuck in my head because you play it so much," he muttered defensively, before pausing the music, "doesn't mean i like it."

"rafe. don't lie to me. i knew you'd like this music. play the next song, it's "good luck babe."

rafe grumbled, as he tried to maintain his grumpy demeanour, but you swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards as he pressed the toggle. he quickly glanced at you, as your eyes shone with triumph, and couldn't help but smile.

"yea' yea' sweets" he muttered. "gonna make me a true fan, aren't ya?"

you giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "of course!"

[etherfabric]

How to Foster Peace + Lyrics

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.

Pile 1

3 of Wands, 10 of Wands

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You have to broaden your perspective on what help can look like. You are clinging to superficial indicators that not everyone can authentically hold, and remain overwhelmed by your burdens because of it. You might have a favorite outcome and are so hyperfocused on it that you don't even consider a lot of second best opportunities. Those could relieve you bit by bit instead of one big miracle. Stop seeing certain things as "beneath you", swallow your pride and admit to your very normal human need of support in general. Let the helpers have a little more say in what that might look like and don't argue against every minute detail. They probably offer what they can give best, and you don't know the effect this can have on you until you fully let it in and be the receiver for once.

Lyrics: "Rockland County" by Regina Spektor

Condescending down the stairs I'm condescending down the stairs I look out for a moment Condescending down the stairs I'm condescending down the stairs I look down at the bottles

I just know I got something coming If I got anything coming at all I just know I got something coming If I got anything coming at all

Pile 2

9 of Wands, 5 of Pentacles

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You need to find an outlet for your frustrations to foster more peace in your life. To you, that seems like a contradiction; give in to the aggressive voice inside my head for peace? Well, it depends on how you go about it. To not hurt anyone in this cathartic process, choose a time of privacy and maybe an object to express yourself with. Punch a pile of laundry, rip old newspaper to shreds, cry into a pillow, write the word "fuck" 500 times in your journal, let yourself have violent daydreams, scream at God herself - the possibilities are endless. But you have to face this side of you. The steam is buildung up pressure in the container that is you, and believe me, you want to let it out on your own terms. Otherwise you risk something outside of your influence pushing you over the edge in an inappropriate setting. This could harm you and others way more than it has to. Surpression is a short term coping mechanism, and you have reached the limit.

Lyrics: "A Cannon" by Regina Spektor

I write you a letter, I hope you feel better I hope you forgive the transgressions I've given you love and I've given you anger as well And I meant them both

Somebody's got to tell all the people to be like the water Somebody's got to tell all the people to be like the water

I would if I could, but I can't, so I don't My heart breaks too easy, my words get all jumbled And when I wear lipstick Then no one understands me at all...

Pile 3

5 of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You have some serious intergration to do. I feel you going "Another thing?? I am already doing so much! I can't do any more!" No, but that's the thing. You are doing so much to get away from the "bad" feelings that need integration. The pain, the sadness, the grief, the despair, the hopelessness. The goal isn't to build a life without any of these things. The goal is to grasp opportunities for authentic self expression whenever they arise, observe what blockages still hold you back, and explore how they came about. The goal is to become whole again; to incorporate those aspects of yourself you weren't safe to express before.

Every human has the capacity for darkness and a need to be authentic in that regard. The question is whether we accept and embrace it in our conscious approaches, or wear ourselves down fighting ourselves. As soon as you let yourself fall apart and let nature take its course, you will see you didn't need to hold it together that tightly anyway. It will feel like being stuck forever in this pit, but just for a couple of moments. Sooner or later, everything fades. What goes down, must come up again.

The next time you feel the darkness creeping up, walk intentionally towards it instead of running in the other direction. You will survive, I promise. This darkness holds a truth about your past that wants to be heard and felt like it deserves.

Lyrics: "Just Like The Movies" by Regina Spektor

You are mistaken cause I do not bite Over the Williamsburg bridge on a bike And if he loves me then why does he leave? And if he loves me then why does he lea— Lea-ee-ee-ooh-dee-no Aah-de-da-de-da-aaaah Don't say goodbye like you're burying him Cause the world is round and he might return Don't say goodbye like you're burying him Cause the world is round and he might re—

Pile 4

The Moon, 10 of Swords

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

I see a crisis of faith in one or all aspects of your life. Doubts are creeping up, and they feel awfully truthful. The places where you used to turn to for confirmation are suddenly empty and lifeless, and you feel abandoned by a higher power.

If God doesn't send you signs, selfmade is fine. Become your own God for a moment. How can you give yourself a little faith back again? Maybe it's affirmations written on your mirror, or a ritual you designed yourself whenever you need that extra reassurance. Maybe it's that one friend who sometimes can be annoying with their constant positivity; now might be a time where you can benefit from their perspective.

Whatever it is, practice believing something intentionally. It will feel a little icky at first, like a conscious self-gaslight. Just remind yourself that this isn't a lie, you are reintroducing the truth to a part of yourself that has no emotional access to all the small and big miracles you already experienced. Let them see it with their own eyes. Start from the beginning. Make an event out of it. Like a second spring in your spirituality. This part probably saw you thriving in your faith, and now feels comfortable revealing itself to hopefully join the party.

Lyrics: "December" by Regina Spektor

We are not evacuating this house, We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew. We are not evacuating this house, We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew. We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew We don't believe in you We don't believe in you, We don't believe in you We don't believe in you, We don't believe in you... We don't believe in you

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Hopefully this was of some use to you. I love getting feedback on my readings, so don't hesitate to leave a comment if you feel called to do that.

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Are you comin’ to the tree? (Enchanted Interlude) (Vox x Faerie!reader)

Word count: 5497

CW: Heavy topics such as suicidal ideation, HEAVILY implied attempt(s), self harm, depression, anxiety, prescription medication, nooses, hangings, and you get the idea. Tread lightly and click away if any part of this starts to bother you. Authors note at the bottom.

As the days passed, I became more anxious and irritable- ready to cry at the slightest inconvenience, jumping at every noise. Now I sat in my room, alone, unaware of the Voxtek cameras there. Unaware Vox was watching me through them.

“This is fine,” I mumbled to myself, holding a pillow I’d stolen from Vox’s room tight. I was in fact, not fine. “Maybe… maybe a song will help? Yeah, yeah… a song like Mama used to sing when I was sick like this…”

A tear slipped down my face as I thought of my mom, my voice was already shaky. “No, no! Not yet, I can’t cry yet. Mama always said a song made things better…” I quickly wiped away the tear and took a deep breath, preparing myself.

Vox, currently in his office, was watching me through the cameras. He had noticed me growing more on edge and emotional over the past few days, and was keeping a close eye on me through the cameras in my room.

He watched as I started to sing to myself, desperately trying to hold back my tears. He ached to go to me, to comfort me and soothe me, but he knew I needed some space.

“Are you, are you comin to the tree?” I began to sing softly. “Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three.” I smiled, feeling a little better. Faerie songs were always a bit dark. “Strange things did happen, no stranger would it be/if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

“Are you…”

“Are you? Comin’ to the tree/where dead man called out for his love to flee?”

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be… if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

Vox listened intently to my singing, leaning forward in his chair and watching me closely on the screen. my voice was beautiful, soft and melodic. But he could sense a touch of sadness in my words, a hidden anguish behind the notes.

He recognized the song- a faerie folk tune. He felt like I’d sung it before- maybe I’d told him about it before? But he didn’t have any memory of that… it was dark and melancholy, but beautiful nonetheless.

“Are you, are you comin’ to the tree/where I told you to run, so we’d both be free?”

I could remember the strong gusts of wind… the howling of a storm about to approach. The eerie chill in the air and the heavy breathing just barely audible beyond the tree line. It was midnight, the Wild hunt was near.

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be/if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

In the hanging tree… not beneath, or near, but in.

The stomping of hooves followed me all the way there. The giggles and laughter, the flowers from the day before all but forgotten. I could hear the yelling in the distance, the screaming of-

I took a deep breath. The point of the song was to calm down, not get me more worked up.

“Are you, are you comin to the tree/wear necklace of hope, side by side with me?” I’d always wear my noose like a necklace, rope delicate around my neck. “Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be/if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

Vox listened silently, his heart growing heavier and heavier with each verse. He began to piece together the image I was creating with my lyrics- an image of fear and escape, of being chased and cornered. Of a noose around the singer’s neck- a necklace of hope.

Noose like a necklace…

The words sent chills down his spine. he knew I had a history of depression and suicide attempts, but I’d been doing so well for so long… was I really in that bad of a place again?

“Are you, are you comin’ to the tree,” I sung softly. We’d agreed to go so long ago.

“Where I told you to run, so we’d both be free?”

The only escape, of course… for someone who’d made an enemy of the court. Shaky breaths, messy hair. Shouting orders right on my heels.

“Strange things did happen, no stranger it would be…”

Walking uphill to meet her at the top… she’d promised an escape, a way out. A way to freedom.

“If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

The horror on my face to see her swaying up there, the rope around her neck.

Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three. Where a dead man called out for his love to flee. Strange things did happen there, no stranger would it be…

If I joined her up there, in the hanging tree.

Vox was now gripping the arms of his chair tightly, his knuckles white. His heart was in his throat as he listened to me continue to sing.

He understood me now. The tree in the song- the noose around the singer's neck- it all made morbid sense. I was referring to a memory- a dark, horrifying memory.

“Are you… are you, c-coming…” I broke off in silent tears, my voice shaky. “…coming to the tree?”

I clung the pillow tightly and buried my head in it, sobbing.

“Join me up there, swaying with the leaves…”

I could practically hear her voice still.

“Strange things did happen, dear, no stranger would it be…”

I wished it would stop. Why wouldn’t it stop?

“If you wore that necklace, in the tree with me.”

I didn’t want to remember.

“Mama…”

Vox could only watch as I broke down, sobbing and clinging tightly to the pillow. my voice trembled and cracked on each word, choked with tears.

Each lyric felt like a dagger to his heart- my suffering was palpable and raw, and he longed to be there to comfort me, to tell me everything was going to be okay, that he was there, that I didn't have to hurt like this alone.

The mention of my mama at the end broke his heart even more.

He sat there for a moment, paralyzed. He didn’t know what to do, how to help me. Each tear that fell from my face, each sob that escaped me, felt like an ache in his chest.

“Princess…” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “God, please… don’t…” was I thinking about…? He didn’t know for sure but…

“Should I, should I join her in the tree/where she brought me medicine and promised I’d be free?”

I paused remembering her. Mama.

“Strange things would happen dear, trust no stranger like you would me/Just meet me at midnight, in the hanging tree.” Those were her… those were her last words to me.

I wanted someone with me, to take my mind off things. Someone, anyone.

Vox’s heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest. His worst fears were being proven true right before his eyes and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Every word that fell from my lips was like a dagger through his soul. He didn’t want me to suffer like this, to be tortured by the memories and the pain.

“No- no, goddammit, no…” he muttered, his voice choked. “No, princess, please… please don’t…” he could only hope I wasn’t actually thinking about doing it.

“I need my medicine,” I mumbled into the pillow. It was practically soaked. I instinctively reached for my bedside table only to find my meds weren’t there. They hadn’t been- I hadn’t had any since I arrived in Hell. That’s why I’d been having such a hard time. “Right,” I said, quieter. “Right…”

Vox’s eyes widened in realization. *Medication*. I was missing my medication- that's why I 'd been struggling so much lately.

“Damnit- damnit, how could I be so stupid?” he muttered to himself. He should have realized sooner, he should have noticed sooner that something was off.

He quickly began searching his memory, trying to remember what my medication was for. He knew I struggled with depression and anxiety, but he wasn’t sure which ones I took and what dosage.

He cursed himself again for not paying closer attention. He should have known, he should have been more observant, he should have done something.

“Strange things did happen here… no stranger would it be…”

Vox was still watching from his office, his heart heavy and his mind racing. He could practically see the tension and strain in my body through the screen, could practically hear the raggedness in my voice.

I hummed the rest softly as I pulled myself out of bed. I took out my notepad of reminders- which had been on my bedside table. Concerta, lexipro… I was out of both.

I shook my head and tried to get the memory out of my mind- I couldn’t. I sat back down and did my best.

My breathing was ragged, I could almost see the tree all over again. “Please,” I mumbled. “I just… I need some help..”

He knew what I needed- medication. Proper medication to help ease the symptoms of my depression and anxiety. There was no way he was going to let me go on like this any longer. He was going to fix this, right now.

Vox quickly shot up from his chair and began gathering supplies. His brain was working overtime, thoughts racing through his head.

Medication. He needed to get medication. His tech was advanced enough to find out what I was supposed to take and get his hands on it. But he’d have to find some way to convince me to take it- no doubt I’d put up a fight if I was already in such a vulnerable state.

He grabbed a jacket and started putting it on, his mind focused on one goal- getting me the help I needed.

He knew exactly which medication to get- the ones he saw me list on my notepad. He would get them, and then he’d figure out how to get me to take them. He wouldn’t leave me struggling like this any longer.

He arrived at the pharmacy and quickly rushed inside, shoving past the other customers and slamming his hands down on the counter.

“I need a refill prescription,” he said urgently to the pharmacist. “Concerta, Lexapro. Immediately.”

The pharmacist raised an eyebrow, seeming taken aback by his forceful demeanor.

“Well, do you have the prescription?” he asked. “We can’t just give you medication without proper documentation. And even then-”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Vox snapped. “Just get me the meds. I don’t have time for paperwork and red tape, I need them now.”

The pharmacist looked at him incredulously, clearly not used to being spoken to in this way. “Sir, I understand you’re in a hurry, but-”

Vox slammed his hand down on the counter again, his patience wearing thin. “Just get me the goddamn meds, you glorified drug dealer. Now.”

The pharmacist bristled at the insult, but he could see that Vox was not going to take no for an answer. He sighed and went into the back to refill the prescriptions.

Vox stood impatiently by the counter, his leg tapping anxiously. He didn’t have time for this. Every minute in this stupid pharmacy was another minute I was suffering back in the tower.

As Vox continued waiting for the pharmacist to fill the refill prescriptions, unbeknownst to him, I managed to venture out of my room.

I made my way down the hallway, my mind still fuzzy from the panic attack earlier. I felt like a ghost, moving through the halls aimlessly, looking around disoriented.

After some time, I arrived at Vox’s office and found the door slightly ajar. I pushed it open and stepped inside.

“Vox…?” I called, my voice quiet and broken. No response.

My voice echoed through the empty office. The room was eerily silent, the only sound being the faint humming of the computer on Vox’s desk.

I looked around the office, trying to figure out where he had gone. The room was normally so neat and organized, but now it seemed like a whirlwind had torn through it. Papers were scattered across the floor, and Vox’s chair was pushed away from his desk as if he’d rushed out in a hurry.

I sat in his office chair, trying to calm down. I hugged myself tightly- it wasn’t long before I started to worry. My mind racing with questions. Where had he gone? Why had he left in such a hurry? Was he okay?

I was trying desperately to find some sense of comfort in the silence. But the fear and anxiety continued to gnaw at me, growing worse with every passing moment. I needed to find him, needed to know that he was alright. I didn’t want to be alone right now, not when I felt like this.

As I sat in the office chair, my thoughts spiraled out of control. I was terrified, alone, and vulnerable. I wanted nothing more than for Vox to come back, to tell me everything was going to be okay.

I tried my best to calm down, taking slow, shaky breaths. I reminded myself that he surely wouldn’t be gone for too long, that he would come back to the tower eventually. But the fear and anxiety clawed at my heart, refusing to let me feel reassured.

“Sir,” the pharmacist said to Vox, giving him the medications. “I’m- um, I’m going to need you to sign here?”

Vox snatched the medications out of the pharmacist's hand, his eyes scanning over the bottles as if to confirm that he'd been given the right ones.

He let out a breath of relief when he saw the labels. Concerta, Lexapro. This was it.

He took the pen from the pharmacist and quickly scribbled his signature on the form. "Thanks," he said curtly, already turning to leave.

With the prescriptions in hand, Vox wasted no time in leaving the pharmacy and heading back to his car. He could feel a sense of urgency building up inside of him, knowing that every minute he spent away from me was another minute I was suffering.

He needed to get back to me.

As he drove, Vox's mind was racing with thoughts about me. He could only imagine what I was feeling right now, how alone and scared I must be feeling without him there. He cursed himself for leaving me in such a state, but he knew he had to get back as soon as possible.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he pressed down on the gas pedal. He needed to get back to the tower. Fast.

I sat in his office, absently picking and scratching at my arms. Nobody had come in yet, and I didn’t know where he was. Had I lost him again? What if… what if he was dead?

I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened to Vox. What if he was hurt? What if he was... dead? God, what if he was dead? The thought sent a chill down my spine.

I heard frantic steps down the hallway and jumped, my eyes wide. I was terrified, not recognizing the sound as Vox approaching.

As Vox hurried down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoed loudly. He was in a rush to get back to me, my frightened face still fresh in his mind.

He wasn't sure what kind of state he would find me in, but he prayed that I was still alright. Please, let her be okay, he thought as he approached the office door.

When he reached the door, he could see that it was slightly ajar. He knew that I was probably inside, but he wasn't sure what he would find when he walked in.

With a deep breath, he gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Princess?" he called out in a soft voice.

“V-Vox?” I asked quietly, poking my head out from behind his chair. I cried when I saw him, but couldn’t bring myself to even walk over. My arms were covered in blood. “I thought- I thought you’d- I thought you were dead!”

As Vox walked into his office and saw me poke my head out from behind his chair, he froze at the sight of my bloody arms. His heart lurched, panic and fear flooding through him.

"Princess..." he said, his voice choked. "No... goddammit."

He quickly closed the door behind him and stepped toward me, his eyes locked onto my arms. "What happened to you?"

“Princess,” I repeated quietly. “Vincent, we- I never gave you my name, did I?” I gave him a halfhearted laugh and strained smile. I wouldn’t exactly trust him with it, either.

Vox took another step forward, the sight of my arms making his stomach churn. He noticed my demeanor, how desperately I was trying to be nonchalant, but he couldn't bring himself to feel relieved.

"Don't... don't joke about this," he said, his voice low. He wanted to reach out and examine my arms, make sure I was okay, but he didn't want to frighten me.

“It’s not a joke,” I said, quickly collecting myself. I took a deep breath in, feeling better now that he was here. “I missed you,” I said, softer. I tried to stand but my steps were shaky. I just wanted to be with him right now.

Vox watched me carefully as I stood up, my steps still shaky and uncertain. He knew I had been struggling, knew that I was far from alright.

But seeing me trying to hold myself together broke his heart. "I missed you too," he said, his voice soft and gentle. He wanted so badly to reach out and hold me, to tell me it would all be okay, but he wasn't sure if I’d let him.

“Then why are you so far away?” I asked, looking up at him. I needed to be near him, then I’d be alright.

Vox froze for a moment, the question hitting him like a punch to the gut. He hadn't realised how much space he had unknowingly put between us.

He silently cursed himself, feeling like an idiot. I needed him, and here he was standing halfway across the room like a dumbass.

"Can I..." he trailed off, his voice hesitant. "Can I come closer?"

“Yes. Yes, please,” I said, trying to take another step towards him. I couldn’t really think properly, my mind was a mess. “Please.”

At my words, Vox didn't hesitate. He closed the distance between us in a few long strides, wrapping his arms around me in a protective embrace.

He held me close, his hold on me almost gentle. He could feel me trembling in his arms, my body taut with adrenaline and fear. "God..." he whispered, his voice thick. "You're shaking."

“Don’t remind me,” I mumbled.

Vox held me tighter as I sank into his embrace, feeling the tension slowly release from my body. He knew I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his arms wrapped tightly around me. "I should've been here. I should've been here when you needed me." I should've been.

“Don’t,” I said sternly. “Don’t do that. You couldn’t have known, you couldn’t have guessed.”

Vox nodded, swallowing back the guilt and remorse that tried to claw its way up his throat. He knew I was right, he couldn't have known, but he still felt responsible for leaving me alone.

I softened again, melting in his arms. Getting blood on his suit. “Just… don’t let go.”

But he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on my words. "I won't," he promised. "I won't let go. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He held me closer, feeling the warmth of my body against his clothing. He didn't care about the blood staining his suit. All that mattered was me.

We stood there in silence for a long moment, Vox holding me close and letting me lean into him. He could feel my breathing slowly start to even out, my trembling slowly subsiding.

He gently ran his hands along my back, trying to soothe me. He could tell I was exhausted, my body drained from the adrenaline crash.

“Why’d you go?” I asked softly, trying to break the silence. It was unsettling to me.

Vox sighed, his arms still holding me tightly. He had been expecting this question, but it still made his stomach twist.

"I had to," he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I needed to get some medication for you. Something to help with the panic attacks."

“How did you-?” I looked up at him, surprised. “How did you know?”

Vox hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt at lying to me. But he didn't want to tell me about the cameras in my room, not yet anyway. "I heard you from the hallway," he said quickly, trying to keep his voice casual. "Your door was open, and I could hear you from there."

“I don’t leave my door open. Vox- I know you’re lying. You can’t lie to a faerie,” I said, with a small laugh. I paused then gave him a smile. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

Vox mentally cursed, he had forgotten about my fae abilities. Of course, I’d know he was lying.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping a little in defeat. "Damn it," he muttered. "You’re right. I can’t lie to you. Not about this, anyway."

He paused for a moment, feeling torn about what to say. Should he tell me about the cameras, or keep it a secret?

“I’m just glad you’re here, now,” I said, absentmindedly picking at my arms again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Vox winced as he saw me picking at my bloodied arms again. He gently reached out and took my wrists, holding my hands gently in his own.

"Please, stop," he pleaded, his voice soft. "You’re hurting yourself."

I paused for a moment, then realized he was right. “Oh,” I said, looking at my arms. “Sorry… I didn’t… it’s habit, I guess.”

Vox's heart ached as he heard my casual tone. It was like I was used to hurting myself, like it was just a normal part of my life. It made his stomach churn.

"It’s okay," he said, gently letting go of my wrists. "But… maybe you should try to break that habit? It’s not good for you."

I shrugged noncommittedly. “I dunno… it’s never really worked before, and Mama said it wasn’t worth the effort.” I looked away for a moment and sighed. “I can try but… don’t get your hopes up.”

Vox felt a pang of anger at my words. Whoever my mom was, she clearly didn’t care about my well-being. Not if she told me that hurting myself wasn’t worth the effort to stop. At least, that’s what he thought. It never occurred to me. I never thought of it that way

He shook his head, trying to push down his anger. He didn’t want to get upset right now, not when I needed him.

"Well, it’s worth the effort to me," he said firmly. "I don’t want you hurting yourself. I care about you too much."

“Oh,” I said softly, accompanied by a small squeak. I looked away, unsure of what to say as the tips of my ears turned pink. “I keep forgetting that… I’m not used to- to having someone… so consistent.”

Vox couldn’t help but notice the pink tinge on my ears and the shy way I looked away. It made his heart flutter a little.

He knew I wasn’t used to having someone who cared about me so consistently. Hell, the fact I had assumed he had abandoned me was a testament to that. But that just made him more determined to prove me wrong.

"Well,” he said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You have me now. I'm not going anywhere."

“Don’t make any promises just yet,” I said, only half joking. I tensed, knowing that he had no way of knowing whether he’d stick with me.

He smiled weakly at my half-joking demeanor. But he knew beneath the facade of nonchalance I was terrified, scared that he would abandon me like those before had.

“I… I should probably get cleaned up, shouldn’t I?” I asked, looking at my arms again. The sight didn’t bother me at all, it seemed only natural.

Vox cringed as I looked at my arms again, still covered in blood. "Yeah," he said gently. "You should get cleaned up. I'll go grab some supplies."

“No, no! It’s fine, I’ve got this,” I said quickly. I snapped my fingers and a glass bottle appeared in my hands, with a deep green salve inside.

Vox raised an eyebrow as a glass bottle materialized in my hands out of thin air. He knew about my abilities, but it still gave him a small startle every time.

“Magic! My healing spells aren’t that great, but I can make a helluva healing potion. This is a salve, so it’ll have to be applied directly to the wound… then I’ll be fine.”

He watched as I explained my healing potion to him, his heart twinging at the casual mention of applying the salve directly to the wound.

"Wait," he said, reaching out to gently take my wrists again. "You’re going to apply it yourself? No- let me do it."

“Oh! Uh, okay. If you insist,” I said, a bit startled. No one had really offered that before. “Just be careful, I don’t want to ruin your suit any further.”

Vox couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at my surprise. I wasn’t used to having someone care for me like this, he realized. It made him even more determined to show me that I was worth caring for.

He nodded in response to my warning, his expression a mix of resolve and concern. "I’ll be careful," he assured me. "Don’t worry about my suit- it’s the least of my concerns right now."

He gently took the bottle from my hands and examined the salve inside. It had a unique scent, distinctly earthy and reminiscent of fresh herbs. Without wasting any more time, he applied the salve carefully onto my arms, gently rubbing it into each cut.

As he worked, he carefully observed my expression, monitoring my reaction to see if it hurt or not.

I was avoiding eye contact, fidgeting lightly. I’d started humming the same song from before again, without realizing.

Vox couldn’t help but notice the avoidance of eye contact and the familiar tune that escaped my lips. He recognized it as the song from earlier, the one I’d been humming in my room.

He focused his attention back to my arms, gently applying the salve and rubbing it in. He couldn’t help but wonder what made me so uncomfortable with eye contact.

As he finished applying the salve, he gently released my wrists, his touch lingering for a moment before he moved away.

He noticed the salve was working quickly, the wounds starting to slowly close up and heal usselves. It was fascinating to watch, seeing magic work its power.

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be…” I sung to myself, not realizing he’d finished. “If we met at midnight, in the hanging tree.”

He listened to me sing, feeling a pang of pain as he heard the lyrics. “If we met at midnight, in the hanging tree.” The idea of me finding comfort in a song about such a dark topic unsettled him.

He watched me quietly for a few moments as I continued to hum, unable to shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. I seemed so casual about everything, so nonchalant about my wounds and the dark meanings behind my song.

Vox hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "That’s a pretty dark song,” he said gently. "Why do you like it?"

“Oh, faerie songs are usually dark,” I said casually, a bit startled. I hadn’t expected him to interrupt- I’d almost forgotten he was there. “This is a play on an older one- this specific version is what…. It’s the last thing my Mama ever said to me.”

Vox froze as I explained the song's meaning, his heart skipping a beat. The last thing my mother said to me? That was... he didn't know what to think. It felt almost too dark for him to handle.

"The last thing?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip on the bottle of salve tightened a bit. "Why..." he began, his throat suddenly dry. "Why was that the last thing she said to you?"

I shrugged and looked away again, continuing the song. That within itself was the answer.

“Are you, are you comin’ to the tree/Where I told you to run, so we’d both be free? Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be/if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

“Are you, are you comin’ to the tree/wear necklace of hope, side by side with me? Strange things do happen, dear, no stranger would it be/if you hung at midnight in the tree with me.”

As I continued to sing the lyrics, the full extent of the message became clear to him. His heart dropped as he realized the meaning behind the song. Meet me at midnight, and we'll be free...

Vox felt a pit form in his stomach, his mind racing with the implications of the words. Was I contemplating... no, I couldn’t be. Right?

His grip on the bottle of salve tightened even further, his knuckles turning white. "That song... it sounds..." he trailed off, unable to find the words.

He paused for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. He didn’t want to scare me, but he had to say something. "Princess," he said, his voice soft but urgent. "Do you... do you ever think about... doing what the song says? Meeting at midnight... and hanging in the tree?"

I shrugged again, not wanting to talk about it. I just repeated what I’d said before. “It’s just the last thing my Mama ever said to me.” I glanced at him and forced a smile. “Maybe you’re looking a little too into it?”

Vox frowned as I shrugged off his question again, my forced smile not fooling him for a second. He knew there was more to it than I was letting on.

"Maybe," he agreed, trying to keep his tone casual. "But I can’t help but worry about you. This song... it sounds like it’s about... giving up. Ending things."

“It’s just a song,” I said, looking at him directly now. That was exactly what it was about, but… “I have no intention of leaving you. Not again, not after- just- never. I wouldn’t leave you.”

Vox felt a pang of relief as I looked him in the eyes, my words like a lifeline. "Good," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm glad to hear that. The idea of losing you again..." he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

But then he frowned as he registered my words. "Wait... 'not again'?"

I cringed internally. I’d hoped he wouldn’t notice that slip up- it was something I couldn’t bring myself to explain now. He didn’t know, he didn’t remember. Now wasn’t the time.

“Just a slip of the tongue,” I said. A faerie couldn’t lie, so… well, he had to take my word for it.

Vox could sense that there was more to my words than I was letting on, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “A slip of the tongue?” he repeated, studying my expression carefully.

But… he knew fairies were bound by their nature, that they couldn’t lie. If I said it was nothing, then it had to be nothing. Right?

He tried to push the uneasy feeling aside. "Right," he said, forcing a smile. "I guess everyone slips up now and then."

“Yeah…” I reached up to scratch at my arm again but stopped. All my wounds were gone now- the salve had done its job. “Oh. Right- I forgot about that. Guess I’m a little scatterbrained today.”

He was glad to see that the salve he'd applied earlier had healed all my wounds, leaving no trace of the injuries I’d inflicted upon myself.

He chuckled softly at my statement. "Yeah, you could say that," he teased lightly. "But it's alright. Everyone's scatterbrained sometimes."

A/N: before anyone comments on the way Vox acts- he’s a demon and died in the mid 1900’s he sure as hell doesn’t know what to do. As for issues on whether or not the pharmacy thing was accurate? It’s Hell and he has a hypnotic eye. Now! Onto the more important thing.

Yes, this was written based on some of my own experiences. Definitely not all of it. I put a little bit of myself into this piece, yes, but I can assure you I’m doing just fine right now. The prescriptions mentioned in the story are what I’m currently taking- the Concerta is more for helping me focus but eh. Details, details.

Vox’s guilt and thought process is what I picked up on from the people around me when I struggled with similar issues to the reader in this fic. How he acted, how he felt powerless, how he wanted to help, the guilt he felt? I can’t speak on it, I’ve not been through it. This is just what I imagine it to feel like. He’s not at fault at all, not for any of this, but that doesn’t change how he feels.

The singing thing? I know it may seem a bit cringe to some people. This is also based off of me. The song itself is from the Hunger Games (as far as I’m aware) with some slight alterations on my part. I have a habit of latching onto songs and listening to them for months on end- for the first three months of this year, all I listened to was Eyes on Me by Paranoid DJ. And I listen to music a LOT.

This means I often associate songs with specific parts and times in my life. Promised Land is a song I associate with a time around Christmas when I was put in a mental hospital for the first time. Bitter Choco Decoration is a song I associate with my struggle throughout my sophomore year of high school, trying to get good grades, constantly worrying about how I’m perceived, and hiding my gender identity from my parents, who weren’t particularly accepting at the time.

It may seem a bit weird, and I can completely understand thinking that. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Just be mindful of the fact that this specific fic resides very close to home for me and try to be respectful in comments. As always, feel free to reblog! I don’t mind people sharing my work or being inspired by it, even on pieces like this.

Tag list for fics: @vvzhyxx @your-silly-vox-stan @noodlemaaaan @angelplayzgames @alexartink @nerdyblog8 @kaleowu @gooseissoepic @triple-moon-rp @superwholatacohunters @rosiethevoxobesser @thenumberonephoenicafleecityfan (YOU CHANGED YOUR USERNAME ON ME) @pringlesaregoodngl @thyvessel @azullynxx

[mustainegf]

→ masterpost

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏

WARNINGS: mention of abortion, angst, breakup, slight arguing, pregnancy

My footfalls were echoing in the empty hallway, with a scent of fear hanging on my nostrils; it was strange being here, under these fluorescent lights, waiting for information that could change my life within seconds. I had already been crushed by the loss of James and now this gnawing worry about my health chewed into me like a relentless beast.

Sitting in the plain white room, I felt all of that pressing down on me. Here I am alone as James is halfway around the world thrashing his guitar and screaming into his microphone. We had just recently ended our romantic relationship with each other.

There was no worse time to end things but he’d become distant, besides we were torn apart by endless touring and my own lack of confidence. I missed him so much that it hurt, a dull pain radiating from my chest throughout my whole body.

The doctor walked into the room, her face looking grave. My heart missed a beat. This won’t go well, I thought, and prepared myself for the worst.

“Miss,” she started, her voice firm but compassionate. “The tests came back… You’re almost a month into your pregnancy.”

I felt wind knocked out of me as if someone had punched me in the stomach. Pregnant? I gazed at her without hearing anything. A surge of emotions swept over me at the speed of light while my mind raced in circles.

“But…” I mumbled to myself more than to her. “How?”

We took precautions, didn't we? Yet here I am carrying our baby.

The doctor kept talking, telling me what my options were and giving support and advice, but her words became a faint hum as they got lost in the storm of thoughts inside my mind. I responded mechanically, said thank you to her and walked out of the hospital tiredly with a haze of confusion and fear in front of my mind.

I have no memory of how I actually made it home. The city rolled by on autopilot for me in a smear of color and light while my mind was stuck in an endless loop of ‘if’ or ‘why’. How would James take it? Can we save the bits and pieces left of our relationship?

As soon as I reached home, reality hit me like a jackhammer that would slam right into my face. My legs visibly shook when I crossed the door frame. Every step I took around the place echoed. Finally, I stepped into my room, which was where I hid most of the time.

I fell onto the bed, letting the tears stream down my face. I curled up on James's side, the side still scented with him, his cologne scent faintly in the sheets. It wasn't really his side any longer. It hadn't been since we broke up. But to me, it would always be his side.

My body was soon overcome by sobs, everything kicking in. There was a baby inside me, a tiny little life that James and I had brought into this world. How could this have happened? I just buried my face in the pillow, allowing the fabric to feed on my tears.

He was halfway around the world, living the life of a rock star, and I was here, alone, carrying his child.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold myself together, but it was no use, I was shattering.

But for now, I just lay there, crying into James' pillowcase, the smell of him somehow both a comfort and a torture. The future was wide open, and I just didn't know what was going to happen. But there was one thing I did know: I wasn't alone in this. I had a little life inside me, part James and part mine, and that was something worth fighting for. Right..?

I was beyond sobbing, but inside, the storm still raged. I lay on my bed, gazing at the ceiling; and suddenly a new thought entered my head, a thought even darker, for the first time: get an abortion.

The question hung my unspoken breath, oppressive. It had been a practical solution, one that would have made things easier, make the world make sense once more.

Was I really capable of ending this life growing inside me? The life that was made up of me and the man I loved? My stomach twisted with the thought. This baby was conceived out of a love that was deep, and real, even though it had recently gone silent. A love that was no more, at least for him.

I remembered the smiling face of James when his eyes lit up atop a radiant joy. I remembered how he held me, protectively, as if I was his world entirely. Now here I was thinking about ending a life that carried a part of that love inside it.

The more I thought about it, the more abortion sounded like betrayal. Betrayal not just to James, but to myself and my future child. I covered my stomach with a hand, and found a strange connection with the life there, growing.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't end this pregnancy. The thought of disrupting something so pure, something created from the best parts of us, made me want to crumble. Again, my eyes welled up, but this time they were not the same. They were tears of acceptance, of a decision made.

I lay in our bedroom, well, my bedroom, wrapped in silence, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that this decision would determine my future and that no matter what, really, I would walk the line, for James, and for the little life inside me.

It should have been just another night. The moon was low outside, shining silver through the window and painting my pacing figure in the cramped living room. The suffocating silence of our flat closed in around me; I felt like my own personal caged animal. James was late again.

When the front door finally creaked open, I whirled to face him. He stumbled in reeking of alcohol and smoke, his eyes glassy, unfocused. There was something about seeing him like this, disheveled and far away that was the thing that broke me. My heart twisted between anger and sorrow.

"You're late," I said. My voice shook with the effort of still holding it in.

He scrutinized me, the flicker of irritation running over his features again. "Got held up," he muttered, kicking off his shoes in the direction of the kitchen.

"Held up? James, you're always held up. Touring, partying, drinking, it's always something. Do you even care anymore?" My voice was rising with each word, frustration spilling gradually.

He spun around to me, his eyes narrowing. "Don't start. I'm tired."

"You're tired? What about me? I'm tired of waiting on you, of being made to feel like I'm second best behind everything else in your life!" The tears were there, but I struggled to hold them off.

He let his breath out in a whoosh, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "This again? You knew what you were getting into when we started this."

I felt his words hurt. "What I knew was that I loved you, that I believed in us. But now.now it feels like you're slipping away, like I'm losing you to this- this lifestyle."

He took a step closer and his face softened just a bit. "Baby, it's not like that. You know I love you."

I threw my head back, the tears now running down my face without hindrance. "Do you? Because I don't see it anymore. I miss you, James. I miss that boy I fell in love with. I miss my Jamie."

The gentleness touched his eyes, replacing quickly with defensiveness, his jaw ticking. "I told you, I've told you a number of times. This is my life. It's who I am."

He was lying. When I met James he wasn’t like this. He was the sweetest and shyest boy I’d ever seen. And now, we’re here…

"And what about who we are?" I sobbed, my voice cracking. "What about us? Are we just supposed to fall apart because you can't balance your life and our relationship?"

His silence was a deafening confirmation of my worst fears. He averted his gaze, looking away from me, and in that single, simple act, something inside me broke.

"I can't keep doing this," I whispered, the words almost too painful to say aloud. "I can't."

He turned back to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. "So what are you saying? We’re done?"

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat almost choking me to death. "Maybe. maybe we need to."

Then James just nodded, his eyes resigned. "Maybe you're right," he said softly. "Maybe we should stop. This… isn't working."

His words were final, and they hit me like a slap. We stood there facing each other, two broken people. I wanted to reach out, pull him close, and make everything better, but we both knew deep down that was much too late now.

"I love you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But I can't hurt this way anymore."

He nodded, letting a tear trace down his cheek. "I love you too. More than anything."

With those words, the last thread holding us together snapped. I turned away, unable to bear the sight of his pain and walked toward the bedroom. I could hear him moving there, the sound of his footsteps echoing in an empty room. He paused at the doorway, seemingly wanting to say something, but then he was gone.

I fell onto the bed, crying into the pillow. His side. That was his side, but it wasn't anymore. The bed felt huge, empty, bereft of what we had lost, and I cried until no more tears would fall, the emotional exhaustion finally dragging me off to a fitful sleep.

He was gone by morning. A note on the kitchen counter, a few hastily packed bags and the silence of an empty apartment. This was real, and it hit me harder than I could have ever imagined.

I keep the note on my bedside table.

“I love you, I’ll see you again. -Your Jamie.”

The days turned into weeks, and it didn't hurt any less. I missed him so much it physically hurt. Missed his laughter, missed his kisses on my skin. But deep in my heart, I knew we had done the right thing. I hoped.

The memory faded, and I was returned to the still quiet of the early morning. I clutched James's pillow, the faint scent of him still lingering. I missed him so much, a deep ache that never seemed to go away.

Light seeped through the curtains and filled my bedroom with its soft glow. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The now very familiar wave of nausea swept up inside me. Morning sickness was routine for me. But it had different meaning now. I knew what it was from now.

I rolled over, clutching at my stomach, and closed my eyes.

Slowly I sat up and wiped away the tears that had begun to stream down my cheeks. I had to be strong, for me and this baby. I had made my choice, and now I had to live with it.

I stood and made my way toward the bathroom. There wasn't going to be much about the path ahead that was going to be easy. That meant morning sickness in the belly. For now, one step at a time.

And maybe, just maybe, we'll find our way back to each other.

[multishipperofgaydeadwizards]

"I've never done this before," says Dorcas.

Barty chuckles and shakes his head. "C'mon, it'll be fine, 'cass. Don't you trust me?"

Dorcas ponders. Does she? Of course, she trusts Barty... perhaps a bit more than she should.

She eyes Barty suspiciously. This is dumb. Very dumb. Maybe even the dumbest idea Barty has ever had—which means a lot. He only ever has dumb ideas, after all.

"...okay," sighs Dorcas, "I'll do it—but if you end up with a bad infection, it's not my fault."

Barty nods and gives Dorcas one of his famous grins. It looks a little sumber than usual since he is missing one of his front teeth. Dorcas told him about the tooth fairy when it fell out. In return, she got a weird look and a bunch of questions she'd rather not answer.

That's how Dorcas learned that purebloods have never heard of the tooth fairy. She finds it a bit pitiful that those children won't even find money under their pillow.

Slowly, Dorcas moves closer to Barty. She picks up the needle sitting on the small coffee table and puts the tip into the fire.

"I read that this sanitizes the needle," explains Dorcas at Barty's questioning look. "Even if I hate you, I'd rather not have you be all sick and whiney—you're annoying enough as it is."

The boy laughs, obviously not taking the tiniest of offense at what she's saying. Dorcas finds he never does. Barty is quick to act out, alone in his first week he'd broken three jaws, but he never acted out at Dorcas. He once screamed at Regulus, but after watching the boy flinch and cower, Barty never did it again.

Sometimes she thinks about it. How is that she can do whatever and Barty never even get's remotely mad at her?

Dorcas doesn't understand. Maybe she'll never will. Or, maybe one day she will. Surely, there must be an age where she knows everything.

But even if there is an age like that, she doesn't think she'll ever understand Barty. He must be one of those mystery's her mother always talk about. Mystery's that have no answers. The kind of stuff that's only there to give people headches and make them mad.

...now that she thinks about it, that does describe Barty. So yeah, perhaps Barty is one of those mystery's. Maybe she shouldn't question him then and just simply pierce his ear. She'll understand him eventually.

Probably.

Whatever.

[six-of-ravens]

I seem to have abruptly hit the "if one more person tries to guilt me into care about something and/or guilt me for something I'm not even doing I'm going to start screaming" point which I think means I have to delete my social media and news app for a while

[yellowocaballero]

so claude is byleth and byleth is claude. what a fun and weird ending!

Thank you for the message! A lot of the fic is about how Khalid is a unique person in his environment, a perpetual outsider, and his struggles to carve out a place to belong. I think both he and Byleth begin their stories as people who are very different, unable to be fully understood by others, but where Byleth is always reaching out a hand in an attempt to understand, Khalid (and Yuri) locked themselves down tight and tried to hide. Hiding's safer, but it's lonelier, and once you are shown warmth the cold becomes intolerable. You start to chase that feeling, that person, and you find yourself opening up your walls and pursuing belonging. It's definitely much scarier and a little humiliating, but confronting that fear is a major part of growing up.

Khalid grew up a lot over the course of the story, and that growth was motivated by wanting to become more like Byleth - and more like Hilda, Yuri, and Dimitri. Separating yourself from others keeps you intact and perfect, but it bars all possibility of change. Relationships with others invariably change us, and some people - no matter how briefly they were in our lives - leave the largest of impacts. A good teacher especially.

The second act of the story is just really sad, because it's about a bunch of impressionable and lonely kids struggling to accept death. Byleth dies in this story, and although I wanted a hopeful ending it would always have to be hope despite that death. The person Khalid loved is gone, but somebody who needs him is still here, and because of the person who is gone he can become the person who is needed. It doesn't bring her back, but it's what moves him forward.

Some of my favorite fictional depictions of love identify it as giving all of yourself to somebody, who gives you all of themselves in return, and in doing so you both gain something more than the sum of your parts. I think it's how two lonely characters like Khalid and Byleth finally find understanding and acceptance. And it's not a kind of love that dies when once person dies. It grows you, whether or not the other person is still here.

Um. When somebody in my life leaves or dies, I pretty much start pretending that they don't exist and have never existed. I avoid thinking or talking about them, looking at anything that reminds me of them, completely. It's like I draw out a nuclear waste zone in my mind, and I place the person as far away as I can. I'm jealous of Claude. I would like to see the world as somebody who was changed irrevocably by somebody who's no longer here - to feel comfortable with that fact, and honored by it, through becoming the person who changes others as you were changed.

In a stupid metaphorical sense, Byleth has passed the game to Khalid and asked him to become a player - an active participant in his own life, somebody who seizes his moment. Byleth is, of course, the avatar: they are you. The player is Byleth. So when Khalid becomes the player, that means that he's becoming Byleth too. That's the role of a teacher, and a player.

Very grateful to everybody who read & enjoyed that very weird and niche story. Thanks for the ask!

[wineanddineloseyourmind]

i try not to be jealous of other people’s transitions but i met someone last night who i hadn’t seen for a few years and i literally did not recognise her (but she recognised me) 🙃🙃🙃

[noxtivagus]

T__T final fantasy

[angelxcz]

“𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐧.”

ᥫ᭡. jjk men making you cum through your panties

characters; gojo, toji, geto, nanami, choso

content; smut, daddy kink, thigh riding, vibrator use, pussy eating, needy choso, petnames, praise

gojo finds it so cute how wet your are for him. when he crawls in between your legs to see the wet spot on your panties he smirks. his hands gripping both your legs and spreading them apart. “i think we can have some fun like this.” licking a stripe up your clothed pussy.

you became a moaning mess when he kept licking hungrily at the soaked fabric. groaning into you as he let his tongue taste your sweetness, occasionally stopping to suck at your sensitive clit with a hum. you mewled, your back arching off the bed as you reached down to grip his hair. “f-fuck, satoru.”

gojo grunted, placing a small kiss to your clit before lifting his head slightly to smirk up at you. “wonder if i can make that pretty pussy squirt just from this.” wasting no time before getting back to sloppily licking and sucking.

“nngh- ahh, satoru—” you whimpered, your toes curling as your head fell deeper into the pillow. yes. yes he could make you cum just from this. “o-oh- cumming! ‘m cumming.” you cried, your body shaking as your pussy gushed. squirting streams of your sweetness into gojo’s awaiting mouth.

you breathed heavily in an attempt to catch your breath. your body jerking when your boyfriend teasingly slapped your sensitive cunt. “shit. didn’t think it’d work.” he mused.

toji makes you squirm for the entire day before allowing you to get yourself off. kissing you softly with a smirk as he watched you desperately rut your hips back and forth on his thigh. the huge wet spot on your panties rubbing off onto his skin as you moaned and whimpered. “t-toji, nngh- daddy.” you mewled, gripping onto his shoulders in an attempt to speed up your pace.

“that’s it doll. that’s a good fucking girl” he groaned, “ya look so hot when you’re all desperate to cum.”

you could only let out a cry, your pussy clenching around nothing when your eyes met his. a string of shaky high pitched whimpers falling past your parted lips as you neared your high. “o-oh f-uckk— ahh, ‘m cumming. daddy ‘m cumming.”

“s-shit, go ahead doll. make a mess f’ me.” he breathed, his cock straining against his pants as he watched you fall apart. your head falling back as your body trembled, your back arched and your moans broken as you messily squirted in your panties.

the liquid drenching your boyfriend’s thigh as you continued to grind onto him. you let out a satisfied breath, your puffy folds sticky and wet with your slick as you cane down from your high. “t-thank you daddy.” you bit your lip, toji grinning before taking hold of your waist and pinning you roughly onto the couch. “my turn.”

geto loves fucking you. but he also loves seeing you fall apart under a vibrator. holding you against his chest, your legs held up in the air by one of his hands while the other pressed the toy to your clothed clit. the loud whirring filling the room as pleasure shot through you.

“nngh- o-oh shit— suguru.” you mewled, attempting to arch your hips as the strong vibrations were sent directly into your clit. “f-fuck.”

geto watched with a smirk as you moaned loudly, your eyes filling with pleasurable tears when he pressed it even further onto the sensitive bud. your breathing sped up, head falling onto his chest as the wet spot on your panties grew bigger.

your eyes rolling back and your whimpers becoming shaky as you neared your orgasm.

“there we go. look at that. look so pretty like this.” geto cooed, bringing his lips down to neck as your body began to tremble. your eyes rolling back and your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“that’s it- give it to me.” your pussy clenching around nothing at his words before you were cumming uncontrollably, your back arched as your squirts seeped through the fabric and onto his thighs. geto only groaning as he kept the vibrator in place. “good girl, now give me another one.”

nanami sometimes likes to make you cum with his fingers on your clothed clit. laying you down on your bed and pressing his lips to yours while his two fingers rubbed small circles on the bud. the blond man swallowing your moans and whimpers as your back arched.

you let out a small cry when nanami started to kiss down your chest. settling his mouth on your breasts with a groan of his own. sucking one of your nipples into his mouth while he twisted the other with his free hand.

“ahh- kento,” you moaned softly, letting out a string of pretty whines as you grew closer and closer.

“that’s it sweetheart, cum for me when you’re ready.”

you could only mewl, your lips parted in heavy breaths as his skilled fingers worked you off the edge. your body jerking slightly as you shakily breathed his name. letting out another moan when his teeth grazed your nipple.

nanami smiled as you came, feeling you wet your panties with your slick as your body quivered shortly. you panted, nanami coming back up to press his lips onto yours. “gonna fuck you so good now sweetheart.”

choso is needy. so when you tell him he can’t stick it in for reasons he didn’t bother understanding, he finds another way. thrusting needily into the fabric of your panties as he moaned, his precum adding to the wetness of the fabric.

“nngh— f-fuck, so good.” choso whimpered, his hips moving rhythmlessly in attempt to make himself cum. something that he could do even without contact. “b-baby- ahh, does it feel good baby?”

you nodded with a mewl, feeling your boyfriend’s tip bumping into your clit with each of his thrusts. his parted lips and teary eyes making your pussy clench as you moaned out. “feels good baby- nngh— really g-good.”

choso smiled down at you, his hands growing weak as he came closer to spilling. his body laying flat onto yours before he buried his face into your neck. his drool coating your skin as his cock desperately rubbed against you.

“baby,” choso breathed, “i’m so close- are you close too?”

“mhm!”

“f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum- let’s cum to- ahh— together okay?” he let out a high pitched mewl.

you nodded with a cry, your back arching as you made a mess in your panties. drenching the fabric in your wetness making choso groan. his eyes rolling back and his body trembling as he came, the sticky substance spurting onto your clothed cunt as you both panted. “again, please.”

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

You’re a puppy!hybrid that is a bit younger than your wolf!hybrid lover, so he keeps letting you get away with being annoying/mischievous. You steal bits of his food or chew on his things and when he starts growling you whine and say, “I-I’m just a puppy! Don’t be mad…”

But you’re NOT just a puppy, you’re a woman. You’re just small and cute and he lets you get away with the puppy excuse because he finds it endearing…

Then when you go into heat, he teases you, playing with your chubby puppy cunt through your soaked panties. “Just a pup, huh? A pup that wants my knot in her cunt, wants to be heavy and swollen with my pups… but you’re just a pup yourself, aren’t you?”

You whine and jump his hand, tears rolling down your cheeks. “N-not just a pup… w-want it!”

He can’t tease you for too long, he wants you just as much as you want him. Your scent alone is enough to have his cock bulging agaisnt his pants, ready to be set free.

“Alright, pup… shh, shh…”

He mounted you, pressing his thick cock into your pretty, fat pussy. You whimpered, attempting to tuck your tail between your legs, but he grabbed hold and used it as leverage to fuck into you, tugging just enough to make you yelp and moan into the pillow.

“That’s it, puppy, gonna breed you good. Just be my good little pup and take it, okay?”

By the end of your heat, your lover was addicted to the feel and taste of your pussy. Now, he let you get away with even more mischief… but instead of it being because you were using the puppy excuse, it’s because he would never punish his pregnant little mate.

You may not be a baby puppy, but you’ll always be treated like a delicate, little thing by your loving mate.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @chubbumblebee @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @omgbrcat @murder-hobo @leiselotte

[screampied]

Sorry this is super specific but angry mean and sloppy hate sex w the jjk boys (specifically nanami) is all I've been thinking about 🥹🥹🥹

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ SCREAM, NO BOLOGNA ! ’﹒⺡

sukuna, toji, gojo, nanami, geto

જ warnings. fem! reader, hate séx, implied multiple órgasms, praise, dirty talk, facefucking, hair pulling, choking, overstim, squìrting, implied breeding, daddy kink, the bed kinda… breaks, mdni.

𖬺 — NANAMI KENTO.

“now now sweetheart,” he’d coo. his voice had such a sugary rasp as he spoke. you moan, feeling him casually bend you over with just one hand. you felt him softly caress the soft edges of your ass, lovingly stroking a thumb against your sheer skin before bringing his leaky tip towards your soaked folds. “was that little fit you threw earlier in the mall necessary? told you to wait until we got home.”

“don’t…care,” you huff out with furrowed eyebrows. your breath wafts against the soft material of the cushioned pillow as you pout. nanami raises a brow, making you arch just a little before your lips part. “i was bored all day. just f-fuck me, kento. s-stop bein' all nice ‘n just be rough with me.”

“my oh my, what a filthy mouth you have,” he clicks his tongue, and nanami purposely leans up close to you. you mewled once he grabs a fistful of your hair. he has a good grip before giving it a slight yank. you let off a whimper once the head of his cock skims past your entrance. not once but twice. his words were so rich, coated with pure tease before he lays his weight right up against you. “rough she says,” he whispers, and he brings his free hand to grip your waist. nanami was so precise and slow with his hand movements. you let off a gasp the minute he starts to ease his way inside. “if you wanted me to treat you like this, you didn’t have to be such a—”

he gets cut off by creating a single sloppy thrust against you and you sob out a whimper from how thick he was. a few good inches and you then started to feel yourself stretch. “…brat,” he concludes, and you even hear nanami’s voice get a tad bit lower. his tie tickles against your spine as he starts to move and your eyes didn’t hesitate to quickly rolllll into the very depths of your skull.

nanami didn’t mind being rough, especially if you asked nicely. whenever he was though, his thrusts were just godly. so good…

your maw dangles open as he’s just whacking you in all the right spots, all the right places.

he still had his work clothes on too—you couldn’t wait, you needed him now. his girth stretched you out in every way imaginable, you dumbly jerk against the bed before letting off a cute squeal. “k-kento, harder. choke me. harder pleaseee.”

nanami kisses his teeth, cocking his head to the side as he intakes a sharp concise breath.

“you’re somethin' else, you know that?” and you feel the warmth of his fingers wrap around your neck. his fingers, so thick. you hit back and forth against him—your pussy just squeaking a high pitch tune out in harmony. “rougher baby?” he huffs out, and you moan once he caresses the middle part of your neck. “you—you like bein' arched over like this for your husband?”

“y-yes,” you’d whine out, feeling his gentle touch graze against the fat of your ass. he loved caressing every inch of your body, so gentle. the tips of nanami’s thumbs gingerly press into the sides of your hips before he delivers a mean two second stroke. you gasp, wanting more, more of him being so spry and vigorous with his hips. “fuck me h-hard, ‘ken.”

nanami grows quiet, watching how your torso cutely gets propped up against him.

you were just aching . . . soaked for more of his thick inches plugging inside of your sweetened cunt. he loved the view. such a pretty wife being all arched for him, taking round after round. he wanted nothing more than to just lean right up to you and run a hand down your spine.

he adored getting under your skin, making you all shy and timid. once nanami starts to get ruthless, you’re making all types of noises, such noises reverberate across the entire room — ricochet after ricochet, just bouncing off the walls.

“jus’ like that, kento,” you’d whimper out, and the feeling of his thick cock delving all inside of your walls had you so wet—you were drooling all against the bed sheets. he hit it just right, nanami’s breath became rough and raspy. you wanted him to be a bit rough, so he was more than happy to oblige. you squeezed down against him and he groans, watching your chest slam and jolt against the beat cushiony mattress.

“g-goddamnn,” he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. you had him going feral, he was enticed with how good you made him feel. vice versa, you swallowed him whole. your cunt was just sputtering out sweet noises that made his ears practically pop. he liked seeing you like this, drooling for more cock. strands of saliva seep from the corners of your mouth solely based on how deep he reached inside of you. “sweetheart, you’re gonna—make a mess out of me.”

his voice was so low, it was sweet. how he spoke so rich and smoothly yet his thrusts against your aroused core was the entire opposite. you moaned, momentarily after a while you started to feel a sudden tension build up. a rush of waves went through you, and you whined once his tip kept smacking against your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again, constant loop. your walls had him in a tight chokehold—quite literally, you were gripping around him like a vice before you squealed out a, “k-kento, o-oh my godddd. i feel, ‘m gonna— right there.”

he chuckles, deepening his hits against you. your cute words were suddenly broken, you couldn’t fully speak a sentence without choking up. he had you throbbing, slick running down your thighs with your jaw cutely open. he was so hefty. his base just rams right into you, it had you dizzy, toes curling and eyes just crossed. your ankle shook before you gasped at the abrupt feeling of you finally reaching your peak. “fuckkk kento,” you’d sob, and you only then realized you’d just squirt all over his cock.

“oooooh,” nanami hums, and he slows down just briefly. he ends up finishing around the same time as you, painting on your your spine with a gorgeous canvas of his own seed. it shot out in thin ropes on your back, you felt so warm and yet empty once he pulled out. nanami had such mahogany eyes full of love, running a hand down your waist once more before having a shy abrupt expression. “did . . my wife just squirt on me?”

a question, a simple question you couldn’t answer but he already knew. he smiles, soft chocolatey irises lingering towards your sopping wet pussy. he brings a hand towards it, giving it a sweet pat.

“mm. appears she did,” he answers for you, and he couldn’t be rough and mean to you for that long. he loved you too much, especially your body. nanami groans, feeling you wriggle your hips up against him, a sign that you wanted him to keep going. nanami’s lips tug up into a smile before he flips you over, slowly prying your legs open before humming. “can you do that again, my love? show me how much of a messy wife you can be.”

𖬺 — SUGURU GETO.

“woah. easyyyy now angel,” geto smirks, and he’d be laid back against the soft cushion of the driver’s seat.

he had you propped up right on his lap. it was tranquil, the two of you being surrounded by a secluded spot with a few streetlights making the scenery a bit more bright. your bottom lip quivered, hovering over his angry tip before swallowing thickly. “hm. i know you’re my ex ‘n all, but with a look like that i’d say you’re still in love with me.”

“just— shut up,” you’d grumble. he chuckles, bringing two rough hands towards the sides of your waist. he loved more than anything to touch you, to run and strum his svelte lengthy fingers all against your skin. it had you weak, he had you weak. geto and you were on and off, sure. but the pent up annoyed intimacy was always amazing. toe curling even, you try to hold back a moan the moment his cock starts to kiss against your folds, his tip gradually going inside. “fuck you.”

geto leers at you before a sly smirk compresses against his pink lips. “…girl, bye,” and his sassiness catches you off guard. with an eye roll, he moves you closer towards his chest—reaching against the left side of the seat to make it recline back. “all this talk for someone who still struggles to take me, even with prep. get serious.”

you glare, not knowing how to reply and he snickers at how quick he made you shut up. your glare turned into a cute eye-widening expression, because that’s when you start to feel his cock massage your inner walls.

“s-shit,” you’d gasp, unhurriedly feeling him sink inside. geto was always so thick, a perfect fit for you. that grip you always gave him. he loved it more than anything.

he still also loved you more than anything, but no one had to know that. “s-so fuckin’ big, suguru.”

“gotta be to stretch my favorite pussy,” he breathes, feeling you start to rock your hips—you moan at how quick he reached you so deep. geto had an upward curve, never failing to locate your most secretive and tender spots with his plump tip. he massaged your gummy walls so good it had your thighs already spasming. it was embarrassing, he had you wrapped around his finger.

you hated it, you hated him, is what you kept telling yourself. alas, you hated him enough to ride him into complete oblivion. “mhm. tug on my hair a bit, angel. always love when ya do that.”

you moue at him, forgetting how much of a slut he was. perhaps an even bigger one than you. you grab onto his silky healthy hair, giving it a nice tug before he slips off a moan. “heh. aw, does me moaning for you turn you on? felt you squeeze all against me jus’ now.”

“s-shut uppp,” you’d huff out, your voice starting to become a bit nervy. geto’s fingers trail against your waist before you start to grind against him. as his seat was reclined—he had such a pretty view of your face.

whilst you’re wrenching and jerking strenuously against him. his dick expands all inside you, his sheer girth, his cockhead that was dragging all through your folds. the more you moved, the more you coated his entire lower shaft with your glistening slick.

you made sure to use your hips in such a sensual motion, rotating them before swerving back and forth. geto grows quiet, your cute moans being the only sounds in the car — replacing the vehicle’s deafening silence with your sweet murmurs.

“still mad at me?” he suddenly whispers, your rhythmic movements driving him to the first street of plain insanity. you always knew how to ride him just right, hands of yours roamed all down his abs that poked through his white tee. “i can see right through that pretty bratty expression. you just wanted to fuck me. admit it.”

“stop—talking,” you’d grouse cutely, narrowing your eyebrows at him. you knew he was right though. geto groans, feeling you start to bounce on his lap . . the lap you were happily straddling. your eyes ran down his perfectly structured body, he wore a simple leather jacket with a white tank top underneath. a pretty figure, his abs were clenched and tightened all because of you. you moan, feeling his dick brush and swipe against your g-spot. it didn’t even take that long. geto’s taken by surprise the minute your fingers wrap around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze.

“well shit,” he gruffs out, giving the right part of your hips a squeeze. slender fingers of his go towards your ass before smacking it. you moaned, and geto hums. “got the audacity to choke me? kinky girl,” and as his pitch grew low and husky, you felt your pussy throb. it was pathetic—just a few words from geto’s mouth and it’s already enough to have you drenched. “if you’re gonna choke me, at least do it harder. i like it rough in case you don’t know, girl.”

he was such a brat, and you thought you were the problem. you didn’t even know if that was possible—you glare at him though, giving his neck a slight squeeze and he moans. “now fuckin’ ride me. and stare at me the whole time too,” and he then grabs you by the neck this time, pulling you into a deep sloppy kiss. it was a mixture of many feelings. a low groan gets caught in his mouth as he feels your hips gradually speed up. geto’s tongue runs against yours, and he can’t keep his hands off you — off your ass. “fuck me. fuck me, f-fuckkk,” and his last words were a bit slurred. you were taking him fully, grinding your hips to where he even starts to stutter.

geto’s ego gets ahead of him, so much so to where he ends up cumming early. it shot out so much that he’s taken aback. dark hooded eyes staring into your soul practically. geto’s out of breath, losing track of time as your spongey walls soaked him for all that he was worth.

“and you call me the brat,” you’d pant, leaning in to press a slovenly wet kiss against his jaw. you paused your hips, letting off a soft moan once you felt him overflow your cunt with a dump of his cum. geto’s the one glaring at you now, and then he stares at you once you kiss near his neck. “still finishing early like always.”

“hmph,” he pouts, not wanting to face reality that you’d have the one up on him. geto was so cute and pouty, beads of sweat racing down the sides of his forehead before he mumbles a pouty, “i’ll take you outside this car ‘n fuck you on the hood, don’t play with me.”

“do it.”

“my girl,” he slyly says.

𖬺 — SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“foolish woman. the nerve is beyond me,” sukuna growls.

his nostrils flair up, witnessing as you’re happily on your knees for him. not even the slightest bit scared. albeit, you were a bit irked that he pulled out his shaft only to make you—in his own words, ‘clean up your own mess.’ he’d snicker, watching your pout turn into a cute scowl before leaning in to bring a kiss towards the top part of his dick. “oh good. ya know exactly what to do. thought i was gonna have to lecture you.”

as your knees bury themselves into the ground, you take a brief look at the cursed shaft right in front of you.

you stared in awe for a moment, so lengthy. such a pretty swollen mushroom tip, just glistening with droplets of his seed that was just inside you nearly a moment ago. “shut up,” you’d loll out your tongue, tasting the bitterness that resided against his frenulum. “mhm.”

sukuna grunts, the vibrations you purposely made to make him feel bundles of nerves stir up inside. he grips onto the crown of your head before a side of his pearly white canines show.

“watch that mouth ‘n tend to your meal,” and his voice was raspy, a tad bit shaky. you could hear it in his voice how sensitive he still was. his recent release took quite a lot out of him—that much was a no brainer. sukuna had a near curve to him, length decorated with markings all over his skin.

you ran your tongue in each particular spot, staring at him the entire time before giggling. “teasin' whore. stop wastin' time ‘n get it wetter for me. spit.”

with a glare, you part your lips, spitting right on his tip before leisurely taking him into your mouth. again. he was just so thick, sweet girth included. “cute little pout ya got goin' on. what’s the matter? don’t like being told what to—do?”

you abruptly gag, feeling his tip prod against the very back of your throat. sukuna sneers, watching how much of a messy girl you already were for him. so sloppy, strands of spit were already starting to run down your chin and decorate your chest. you kept him so warm inside your mouth, swirling that pretty tongue of yours against the plump front part of his dick. that spot, it made him nearly give your hair a mean rough yank.

“s-shit,” he’d roughly breathe out, and once sukuna starts thrusting his hips into your mouth. you hold onto his clenched thighs, making an attempt to relax your jaw. you felt a vein that ran alongside his fat cock twitch alongside your tongue. he groans once he sees your eyes flutter. “this the only way to get you to s…stop talking back to me, princess? fuck your sloppy mouth until you’re drooling all over me, huh?”

being bratty, you give him a nod and he glares. his glowering gaze quickly turned to a caught off guard look and your tongue’s so playful, skimming all against his tip—sloppily having all kinds of strands of spit run down the crevices of your lips.

“my nasty girl,” he huffs, rolling his bright eyes at how easy you made him get so close again. his thighs started to ache, and he’s still got a firm grip on the crown of your head. “nasty. nasty. nasty,” he enunciates between each vigorous thrust into your mouth. he liked hearing your noises, gulp after gulp. cute lashes fluttering and all.

your spit paid a huge role, contributing to making him all slick — so filthy.

a glistening cobweb of your own lewd saliva trickled off your lips. sukuna grabs your chin, smearing it all over your lips before his own bottom lip quivers. he had a pout. sukuna ryomen was pouting all because of you. he wanted to kiss that bratty mouth, it irked him. you were so pretty, having your tight throat be stuffed like this.

“fuckkk,” he growls, feeling his thighs start to tremble. you always knew right when he was about to finish. his breathing with get irregular and his voice would be super deep and husky. thrusts against your face began incredibly sloppy while your lip gloss smeared all over your lips, ruined. “relax that fuckin’ jaw for me. gonna paint that throat white just how ya like it.”

not even long before he says that, sukuna ends up finishing again. you don’t even realize how soaked you were between your legs, cramped up fingers playing with yourself while your mouth was being salaciously occupied. a nice load coated the tip of your tongue—he pumps a good amount into your mouth, sweet sweet ropes of cursed cum.

“don’t fuckin’ swallow yet,” and you blink twice. sukuna pulls his throbbing now flaccid dick out of your mouth before getting down to your knee-level. “give me that kiss you owe me, brat,” and with a tug on your chin with one hand, you moaned, feeling sukuna sneak a rough yet somewhat passionate kiss.

he tastes the entire mess on your lips, not even being fazed before he pulls you away with a cute scowl. “did you enjoy the meal?” and he squeezes your spit-glossed lips together. you nod with cute puffed up cheeks before swallowing and he narrows his eyebrows, stroking your chin. “tch. good. because now i gotta clean you up. touchin’ yourself without asking me. bend the fuck over and face the other way. yeah.”

𖬺 — TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“soooo much back talk for a slutty arch like this,” toji grumbles. you steadily shudder, feeling him run fingers down the soft skin of your spine—you moan sweetly, gnawing on the bottom of your lip. “you claim you 'hate' me ‘n ya still get this pussy all soaked f'me without me havin' to say anything, baby?” as you spoke, you arched your back, slowly…

oh, you hated it, no…loath was probably a far more better word.

you loathed how easy it was. no matter what, toji had always found himself back in your bed—or vice versa, you in his. safe to say, he couldn’t get enough of you.

perhaps he had a bit of attachment towards you, or maybe the main thing was that he was infatuated with your sweet sopping wet pussy. “fuck you toji,” you huff out, feeling big rough hands grab your ass. he’s playing with the fabric of the string that ran down, taking in your curves before springing his weighty length out.

just feeling his fat cockhead. leaky and all…

casually smearing against your slick entrance, you felt yourself salivating shamelessly, puff after puff, the pants that departed from your lips were never ending.

“fuck you toji,” he mocks your tone, his raspy rough tone trying to pitch to yours—simply humiliating. “dumb words for a dumb little girl,” he snickers, and you gasp once he makes you scoot your ass up towards him. while your chest welts against the bed, you let off a whine once he gently starts to make his way in.

you took toji numerous times, a plethora of times, but it was as if every time was the first. toji was so thick, regardless of if he was barely in yet or fully, you always felt all of him—effortlessly expanding throughout your spongey walls like it was equivalent to an elastic band.

he was so mean and it always turned you on. the way he was the only one to memorize all your sensitive spots. he knew every inch of your body, the specific precise angle to hit with his dick to tear out those cute shrilling orgasmic whimpers from you. “just f-fuck me then. always take fuckin’ forever.”

“i’ll take as long as i want ‘n you’ll still get wet for me, whore,” he coos, burying his massive cock right into you. you couldn’t see him, but you could probably guess he was throwing his head back right about now. he loved that feeling, the salaciously delectable grip your pussy had on him, happily taking him in like it’s missed him — it did, and maybe you even missed him too. when toji’s mean, he’s fucking mean. he fucks mean, and his dialogue is always even meaner. “now be a good girl ‘n open up for me. missed my girl.”

plump lips of yours were all pretty and glossed, parted open with a little drool coming out. it was a sight. once toji’s dick figures out a sensual rhythm, you’re right back to where you started. his pace was simply mouthwatering. striking and snapping against you with such abrasiveness, you could barely keep up. toji’s stamina, it was never something to be taken light either. his hefty base taps near your ass again and again.

that makes you wet, just imagining how full he must be. “d-daddyyy,” you’d gasp out, basically being shoved right into your own mattress. your breathing was very much competitive — having an entire race with your irregular breathy pants. “f-fuck.”

“what’d you just call me, baby?” toji gruffs, and his voice was a deep low. the baritone that resided in his words had you pulsating. he cups your ass with two hands, moving it closer towards him to get a deeper and thorough angle before he sneers at your cute whimpers.

“s-said toji,” you’d whine, dragging out your words. your sweet words were all unsteady and bumpy all due to his thrusts against you. you were bouncing back and forth, mimicking his tempo.

toji sneers. “nuh uhhh,” and then he brings a hand towards the curvature part of your neck, stubby fingers stroking against your skin. “don’t lie to me. tell me what ya said originally,” and then you feel his hips pivot. toji’s dick prods against that spot, his curve brushing past your walls and you moan out. “orrrr do i gotta make this sloppy pussy tell me instead?”

you whine, feeling him bring a sharp sting to your ass. he loved giving you a spank or two, dragging out those sweet whimper from your mouth left and right. your cunt throbbed whenever his palm made contact with your ass cheek and you finally sputter out a, “daddy. called you daddy, toji.”

“yeah. you fuckin’ did girl,” he grunts, his voice was so pitched. such rude hips of his, no manners whatsoever . . snapping right into you, it was so good.

his full balls, hefty and all pressed up against your entrance, you’re in a trance. profusely drooling for him to fill you up, everywhere. leave your sweet hole dripping with nothing but his sticky cum. toji titters, seeing how you were trying to keep up with his pace. you failed miserably though.

despite that though, toji doesn’t realize how good he’s fucking you because not even moments later, he hears the wood of the headboard split. your ears twitch upon instinct, and you sort of sink further into the mattress. his bummy weight smacked right into you from behind.

“whoopsie daisy,” he shrugs, pausing for a moment. toji realizes the bed—well, your bed was now broken. with a sly grin, he makes you lean forward before pulling out to smear his leaky tip over your entrance. you whined, feeling yourself so close before he just departs. “fun time’s fuckin’ over,” and then he spanks your ass for probably the countless time, getting off of you. “mhm. my bad, doll. i’ll throw ya some cash for a new box spring the next time i see ya.”

no he won’t.

𖬺 — SATORU GOJO.

he’d come home pissed off, probably from losing a battle and he’s so annoyed. gojo isn’t used to losing, and he’d rather not talk to you about it in full detail. at least not yet.

“hey baby. was work okay?”

“princess, i need you.”

his voice was richly raspy, gojo sounded kind of needy. you stared at him, and his hair was all ruffled and tangled—a bit of his clothes had a few battling rips and spreads.

he needed you badly. his eyes roaming across your pretty physique only made things far more intense. that sundress you wore, it showed off your curves and he just only then imagined it being torn off of you. “i-i’m so annoyed, but i’ve been thinkin' about you all day…. ‘m kinda hard too.”

“come here then, baby.”

those simple four words that came from your mouth—all it took for him to go straight feral.

within seconds, he didn’t waste no time to press his hot lips onto yours.

gojo was aching, just the way your hands roamed all on his clothes made him shiver. you were the one who started to shiver next, the moment he’s got you laid flat on your back in a simple mating press.

“f—fuck,” he’d groan, and you can’t help but be so noisy. the way he’s jackhammering his thickset cock in and out of you. squelch after squelch, your legs just mindlessly sway and droop over him before you whimper. that’s when you feel gojo dip his hips even further into you. his rhythm, it had your head spinning, mind racing. it was indescribable, your pussy coated his entire length with nothing but your satiny glossy slick. “look at me,” he grumps out. you nearly throb, seeing him get all close up to your face. he’s heavily panting, heaving whilst pretty cerulean eyes stare right back at you. intently.

he was balls deep, his thrusts became extremely vulgar. soft white clouds of breath run past his lips before he grabs underneath your chin.

“damn. ‘s all her fuckin' fault,” he grouses cutely. a near pout then spreads onto his lips. you furrow an eyebrow—confused by what he meant as 'her' before with a free hand, he grabs onto your ankle. his eyes avert towards your sloppy pussy before grunting. “been thinkin’ about this pussy all day. think that’s why i lost, princess,” and his breathing was so hitched, driving such merciless thrusts into you. “got me s-so damn distracted. all ‘cause of a pussy this wet.”

“i’m the reason you lost?” you moan with a sly smile pressing against your lips. gojo’s still maintaining a grip on your chin, he then intakes a sharp breath—only then deepening his jagged thrusts against your entrance. “tell me more baby.”

he’s so careless, such vigorous thwacks going back and forth against you. it gives you whiplash. eyes nearly crosses and tasting your own sweetened saliva salivate inside of your mouth, you return his eye contact. he fucks you like he hates you—when in reality, he loves you more than an anything.

“mhm. right when i was about to get the job done, started thinkin about….about…fillin' you up,” and he swallows thickly at the thought, envisioning the entire thing in his mind. you whimper once he grabs ahold of your ankle, you’re jerking against the sofa with the stupidest expression. “stuffin' you full ‘n then plugging it back in when it spills. was so pissed when i realized i was daydreaming.”

just saying it aloud makes him palpitate. it was an ongoing race with his heart, beating quickly as he gave you such rugged hits against your entrance. your legs, oh how he loved the way they’d just jangle right beside his face. gojo found himself creating soft bike marks near your ankle, groaning out a, “you make it s-so hard to be mad at you,”and gojo’s voice cutely cracksz he can’t help but lean right into you the moment he feels in self grow full to the upmost extreme. he had so much to give you, his kisses—now they were sloppy.

as he’s plummeting solid lengthy inches in and out of your cunt that forevermore gripped him, gojo leans in to kiss you. he whines the moment you kiss back, feeling your legs lock around his slim waist, the heel of your foot skims against all of his forbidden battle scars. he was so sensitive there, he tasted sweet. enchanting.

“mine,” he groans, slowing his hips down briefly before reaching a hand down towards your tummy. his hips stutter before that’s right when he came, licking the side of your mouth before panting once he poured deep ropes of cum inside of you. “s—so pretty like this,” and his hand roams near your belly, so soft and tender. he pulls out just to stare at the pretty ring you had that coats around the base of his dick. a rich sheeny color, he licks his lips before pressing another wet kiss against your mouth. “you’d look so much prettier with a round belly. wanna give you a baby or two,” and then he moans once he feels your legs lock around his waist even tighten. “if—if you’d let me, pretty girl.”

[harrylights]

documentation of last night for future self ✨