#o' chunks content

[o-chunks-appreciation]

THERE WAS SPM LOST MEDIA THAT WAS JUST FOUND??

[undefinedsoup]

the amount of scottish slang ive learnt from writing dialogue for o'chunks is crazy

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Twenty

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse reader, feelings of fear and panic, PTSD, references to domestic violence. Trauma, blood. Flashbacks. Dubious ethics and morality, dark content.

“Are ye comin’ inside?”

“I need a minute.” He needs more than a minute. He needs days, weeks. Needs to wind back the clock and slam it into the ground, over and over again, until the springs and hands and tiny numbers splinter into pieces.

Failure. He failed. They failed.

They failed you.

“Wait, go back.” The video pauses and rolls backward, all the way until Simon tells Kate to stop it when you step out of the elevator. “What’s in her hand?” 

“Dinnae,” Johnny’s nose is practically touching the screen. 

“The recording is pretty low quality; I’ve tried enhancing it with no luck.” Kate’s voice crackles through the speakers from the other side of the laptop, the other side of the world. This is the first time they’ve managed to get a hold of her in weeks, and even now, the connection is half static. 

“Looks like a piece of paper, or a picture?” Johnny murmurs, leaning back. 

“This is just before she bolts,” the playback continues, and they watch as you walk down the hall, bright smile fading when you reach the corner. “She’s here for a minute and then runs…” Simon is glued to the screen, forward on his haunches, and Johnny rubs his back, kneading his knuckles into that ever-present knot in his shoulder. He watches your head turn, your back stiffen, and Johnny sucks in a breath. 

Kate nods the confirmation. She’s already put the puzzle together. 

Graves.

You’re reacting to Graves, seeing Graves. Entire demeanor shifting, changing from their sweet, smart girl with newfound confidence, to a deer, shocked and startled, running from a scope. 

Graves.

It’s simple math. Plain as day. You take one look at where he’s come around the corner, running his mouth, chewing that fucking gum, and split. 

It’s Graves. 

And it all makes sense. 

“-you don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t understand. He’s chased me across the world, he always finds me, no matter what, no matter what I do”

“He’s in the military. Some sort of security work, department of defense, or something. He never really talked about it.”

“He always finds me.” 

“He has resources. Has followed me across the globe more than once. My only saving grace is that when he has to work, he has to work, and it’s usually for long chunks of time.”

“I’m originally from Texas.” 

Texas. Texas. Texas. 

There was a conversation, months ago, that slipped through Simon’s fingers. A wisp of a suspicion, one pushed away by doubt, by disbelief.  

Not possible. A coincidence. 

He was wrong, about being wrong. He was right, all along.

Johnny nearly flips the table before Simon urges him back down. “Where… where does she go after this?” 

“She gets the car,” Simon answers, timeline clicking into place, “she borrows that gits car, comes home, packs a bag, and runs.” Johnny’s hands are shaking, fingers white against his knees. 

They’ll kill him. He’ll paint the walls with Phillip’s blood. They’ll do what should have done in the first place. 

He should have protected you, should have seen it all clearly. Should have applied more pressure and made you crack, if only for your own safety. 

He failed. 

They failed. 

“That piece o’ shite, I’ll-“ 

“Kill him.” Simon finishes simply, and they exchange a look. A promise without words. Simon will shatter his skull between his palms if he has to. 

Johnny nods. The gears are already turning. Are they so different from a man who has stopped at nothing to drag you back to him? 

No. 

They'd burn the world for you, to protect you, to bring you home to them. 

Kate clears her throat. “There’s more.” More? “I was checking some records, looking at her last clock out, when the last paycheck was paid out and I pulled her personal information, her medical chart.” Kate’s tone is wary, hesitant, and Johnny straightens. 

“What is it?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, unsure trepidation that’s so unlike Kate the hair on the back of Simon’s neck stands up. 

“Kate…” 

“She’s pregnant.” You could hear a pin drop. Johnny’s rage turns to panic, and an ocean of blood rushes in Simon’s ears. 

“She’s- she’s what?” 

“She’s pregnant. By now, she’s probably twenty weeks, maybe? I’m not sure. I don’t know much about those things, but her chart notes say both of them are… were in good health. Low risk.” 

“Twenty weeks,” Johnny echoes, faraway look in his eyes. 

A baby. You’re pregnant. 

Pregnant. Pregnant and alone, and scared. Running away.  

From them. 

Simon’s trying to wrap his head around it, but he can’t. The information doesn’t fit. It doesn’t make sense. 

“If she’s twenty weeks, then she’s been pregnant since before she left.” Johnny’s talking to himself at this point, because Simon can’t force his mouth to make words. “Why keep it a secret?” Kate is telling them something about index hits and cameras, but it all amounts to nothing after you board the train, and Simon still fails to make a sound. 

And then, she piles it on. 

“Graves is in the wind.” Simon’s heart stops like he’s been struck by lightning, electricity jolting him alive. 

“How?” 

“He went offline. No traceable activity in the last week or so. Last known location was Texas. After that, I’m not sure. Yet.”

‘He can’t be in the wind,” Johnny whisper shouts, all too aware of Penny upstairs, napping. “We need to know where he is. Now.” 

“I’m doing all I can. He has resources too, you know. A lot of them.” The screen goes black for a second, before she reappears, lips pressed into a grim line. “I have to go. I’ll keep you updated. Sorry guys.”

They can only nod. 

It’s clear as day, what happened now. How you saw them in the hallway, how you drew the conclusion, one that seemed so painfully obvious, connected the dots that appeared in your mind, stringing together bits and pieces until it all made sense.

He knows what will have to happen now. They both do. 

Simon presses his forehead to Johnny’s. “We’ll find her.” 

“An’ bring her home.” 

“No matter what.” 

The rest is left unsaid. 

You’re having a dream.

It’s a lovely one, more of a memory than anything else, but a dream, nonetheless.

“This still feels like a bad idea.” 

“Isnae, ye’ll do great bun. Jus’ the ‘hawk now.” You’ve already finished the sides of his head, which were easy enough, but using actual scissors to cut hair is well outside your wheelhouse. 

“What if I mess it up?” 

“It’s jus’ hair, pretty girl. It grows.” 

“How’s it going out here?” Simon leans out the sliding door, Penny in his arms, and you try to plead with him with wide, nervous eyes. He chuckles. “Looks good so far.” 

“See?” Johnny smiles, one of the big ones that stretches his whole face and makes your knees weak. Penny loves them too, and she claps her hands together, giggling. 

“But… I don’t… I’m going to mess it up.” Johnny stands, warm hands on your arms. 

“Ye could shave me bald and wouldnae mess it up, bun.” You nod, but the acid, noxious taste of worry is still there on your tongue. 

“I just… I…” you’re starting to shake a little, fingers squeezing together. He tugs you into his chest, kisses your temple. 

“Ye’re alright.” 

“I know.” You do know. You’re safe. They’d never hurt you, never betray your trust or even yell at you, but muscle memory doesn’t forget. “I know, I’m sorry.” 

“Ye dinnae have to be sorry.” 

“It’s okay, bunny.” Simon murmurs, but it’s not. 

Is this how you’ll spend your whole life? Afraid? Shaking? 

No. 

Not anymore. 

“If I ruin his hair… it’s not my fault.” Simon chuckles. 

“We’ll blame him.” You turn back to Johnny and put your hands on his shoulders, taking a deep breath, surveying the mop of unruly brown strands, and he covers one of yours with his own. 

“It’s okay. If ye-“ 

“No, I can. I can do it.” You don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s just a hair cut, for crying out loud, but for some reason it feels like plunging into the deep end of a pool. “Okay,” you breathe, making the first snip. He nods encouragingly and you roll your shoulders. 

“See? Not so bad?” 

“Not so bad.” You cut again and again, trying to manage it all into a proper length, shaping as best you can. 

Each snip, something grows. Your hands tremble a little less, your jaw unclenches, lips flexing upward into your cheeks. You breathe deeper. 

When Johnny turns around, he doesn’t care about his hair, or the slightly uneven chunks, or the fresh clippings on his shirt. 

He cups your face, kissing you before pulling away to rub his thumb across your cheek. 

“There she is.” 

Spring rain. There’s nothing like it.

It washes away the gloom of winter. It’s the turning of a page, the spine of a brand-new book snapped open with a splintering crack. Cabin fever becomes walks in the park, lunches and coffees outside, hanging out on balconies and patios.

Dead things turned to soil now sprouting new life.

Like you, you guess.

You’ve been dead before. If someone looked really closely, they could see it in your eyes. The grey of decay, the separation of iris and pupil. Dead and brought back not quite right, every time. Sally, stitched together incorrectly, the wrong pieces of patchwork, poorly aligned.

Every time he ripped another piece of you away, you found a different one, one less like you, to put in its place.

Every time, until you weren’t you at all. Until you were a girl in a mirror. Until you were a ghost.

It makes sense that you don’t know yourself now, haven’t known for years. On the run, there’s not a lot of time to stop and consider things like that, those pieces. Coffee or tea? Chocolate cake or vanilla? Do you like snow? Do you like the beach? 

Do you like yourself? 

You could have had these answers, you think. Could have learned these things, if it hadn’t turned out the way it did. If Simon and Johnny hadn’t turned out to be a hydra, mouths open, waiting to devour you.

Sunbeam kicks. They nail you in the bladder, and you wince, rubbing over the crest of your belly. “You’re killing me, you know that?” You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, every day. The aches and pains are never ending, your back and hips screaming by the end of a shift. You can’t sleep, the heartburn makes it hard to eat, you’re never comfortable.

The whole time, you curse them, Simon and Johnny.

Their fault, it’s their fault.

And yours too. 

But no matter how tired, how sore, how cranky you are, you can’t bring yourself to regret it, and in your dreams, it’s like all the bad, all the awful betrayal didn’t even happen. You dream of a family with them, Penny holding her little sibling, the five you together. It’s all been buried in your mind, too deep and nearly impossible to dig out. The visions of them, the longing, the good memories. You’re infested with them.

You didn’t want this. You wanted them, you wanted it all, and that might be the hardest thing about it. You weren’t given a choice, this decision was made for you, taken from you, just like almost everything else.

Except little sunbeam. You wanted them, chose them, will choose them, over and over, forever, keep them safe, make sure they know they’re loved.

No matter what. 

It’s the train, always the train.

Not the long rail train, the commuter train. The one that takes you to and from work, the one that’s sometimes-standing room only, though most people offer you their seat, which is surprisingly kind, compared to where you’re from.

Regardless, you feel the gaze on the train, and no matter how hard you scan, dissect, watch the people around you, there’s nothing. All three faces, three sets of eyes, three profiles, are never anywhere to be seen.

It’s overwhelming, unsettling. The stress of this prickling unease combined with the stress and physical strain of your job is taking its toll on both you and Sunbeam, as the midwife likes to remind you.

Take it easy, take some time off, try to relax. Stay hydrated, eat well.

Yeah… okay.

You rub your belly anxiously, tugging your hood farther over your head, trying to look around without being so obvious.

“Excuse me?” You jolt, startled by a man standing at your elbow, pointing to a vacant spot on a bench. “Would you like my seat?” His smile is subtle, matching an encouraging but not overly intrusive demeanor.

“Sure, thank you so much.” He nods, stepping to the side, into the space between the seat and the divider, close to the door. You try to swing your backpack in front of you, but it gets caught, and he snags it before it falls. “Sorry, thanks.”

“Of course, no problem.” You give him another glance. Really handsome, rich brown eyes you could get lost in. He’s got a baseball cap on, but it’s not pulled down over his face like your hood, he’s not trying to hide. “I’ll move when your stop comes up.”

“Okay, it’s not for a while so, no worries.” He might be kind, but he’s still a stranger, and you’re not going to divulge anything specific. Stranger danger. 

Not everyone is a threat but… 

“How far along are you?” You blink.

“Uh, about twenty-five weeks, give or take a few days.” He nods.

“My wife is due next week; it’s been a rollercoaster.”

“Yeah, it’s not the easiest.” You laugh, a little apprehensive, but also, a little glad, secretly, to have a casual conversation with someone. He sticks his hand out.

“I’m Kyle.” Your tongue rolls with the practiced name you’ve memorized, the one you’ve drilled into yourself over and over again. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” The next stop is announced, and he moves gracefully, reaching for his bag and tugging it over his shoulder, barely giving you a second glance.

“This is me, have a good day.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t look over his shoulder at you when he’s getting off, doesn’t watch you through the window from the platform. He’s completely uninterested, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

The box is delivered on a Tuesday.

The Scottish government gives you almost everything you need. Clothes, thermometers, baby books, a changing mat, a mattress, a sheet, a blanket, the list goes on. The box even doubles as a bassinet.

You cry over it. Rifling through everything, tears drip down your cheeks and you bury your face in your hands. You didn’t get to share an ultrasound with anyone, or have a shower, or hold someone’s hand to your belly as sunbeam kicked, but there’s this. A box full of baby stuff, a box that says no matter how hard it is, you and sunbeam will have a good start. Even Sunbeam’s room is halfway sorted at this point, crib set up, dresser half stocked with clothes, collection of diapers and burp cloths and bottles starting to pile up in various places in their room. You’ve made it comfortable, slowly, mix matched furniture and all.

Every day feels like a year, but as each one passes, you slowly adjust to a new normal, a new life. Something you made, again, from scratch, for yourself, your survival.

And now, for Sunbeam.

One day, maybe it will feel like home.

You really need to stop buying so much crap at the store.

You practically have to drag your grocery loot into the elevator, bags overflowing with fruit, vegetables, cans of formula. Random cleaning products, stuff for baby proofing, a new candle.

Apparently, some call this nesting. You just call it annoying.

You lean against the wall and close your eyes for a moment, shifting your weight to alleviate the pressure on your spine.

Thirty weeks.

Ten weeks left.

Ten weeks left. It’s wild to even think about, to even say to yourself, or out loud. You’re going to be a mom in ten weeks. Going to have a whole human depending on you for every single thing, in ten weeks.

You’ll be alone, with a newborn, in ten weeks.

Alone.

It still aches. Stings. Salt in the wound-

Lit end of a cigarette against your skin.

You instinctively cup your belly, thumb rubbing over where one of your burn scars has been stretched by Sunbeam, and shiver.

You’re fine. You’re safe. Get it together.

“We’re home!” You announce to no one, no one except Gus the goldfish who’s swimming circles around his bowl. You got him two weeks ago on an impulse, following a pathetic, sad desire all the way to the pet store.

It’d be nice to have something to come home to. 

You tap a few flakes into the water and watch him gobble them up, oddly soothed by his presence in the flat.

This is how far you’ve fallen. Taking comfort in a damn goldfish.

You blow out a breath and fall onto the couch, swinging your legs up onto the cushions, dragging the pillows under your ankles, or what used to be your ankles. They’re more like overstuffed sausages now, tops of your sneakers cutting into your skin. Every chance you get, you’re finding places to sit at work, caught yourself leaning most of your weight on your patient’s beds, more than once. Thankfully, your coworkers are overwhelmingly understanding.

And when you come home, you do this. Collapse on the couch. Talk to a goldfish, or Sunbeam, or both.

The oddest trio: Mom, baby, goldfish.

You manage to limit yourself to three bites of ice cream before putting the carton away in the freezer. You’re supposed to be watching your sugar intake, apparently, not because you’re at risk for gestational diabetes, but because Sunbeam is already projected to be on the bigger side.

You look mournfully at container, spoon still in hand.

One more. What’s it going to hurt? One more bite isn’t going to turn Sunbeam into a giant, it’s-

Knuckles rap against your door.

Your blood goes cold, colder than ice, and you instinctively find the floor, crouching by the fridge, using it to shield yourself, keeping away from the door’s direct line of sight.

The knocking gets louder.

Someone’s saying something on the other side of the door, but you can’t hear it over the buzzing, beeping sound in your ears.

How. 

How? How did it happen so fast? Where did you fuck up? 

The fear you once felt for yourself pales in comparison to the true fear you feel now. You’re supposed to protect Sunbeam, supposed to keep them safe.

You’re supposed to be a mom. 

A sob claws its way out, and you clap your palm over your mouth, agony squeezing your heart, panic clutching your throat in a vise, choking off your air, throttling you until you’re gasping.

You should run, should sprint into the bedroom and grab the gun from under your mattress, should start crawling out the window to the fire escape.

You should do these things, but instead, you’re trapped, immobile, watching with horror as the deadbolt turns horizontal, sliding the lock free with a bloodcurdling click.

Your baby. You were supposed to keep your baby safe. 

You failed. 

You stand, so unsteady you have to support your weight by leaning against the counter. The only thing in here are kitchen knives, and you rip two from the block, one hiding behind your back, the other brandished in front of your body like a sword.

You’re going to die. 

But not without a fight. 

Tears wet your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you choke, sliding a hand over little Sunbeam, “I’m so- so sorry.”

The creak of the door handle is unmistakable, a metal whine scraping against the frame. You close your eyes.

“Bunny.”

Your heart stops.

The men you thought love you are standing just inside your kitchen, the sight of them turning your stomach, their eyes flicking between you and the shiny, sharp knife in your hand.

Johnny inches forward, his voice a low, gentle murmur, one that cracks your heart. “It’s okay pretty girl, we’re here to take ye home.”

“Get away from me.” The knife is practically rattling in your hand.

"It's alright. We’d never hurt ye, either of ye. We know what ye saw and-“

“N-no,” you sob, voice cracking, shoulders shaking, “don’t come near me.”

“Put that down, sweet girl, it’s alright.” Simon edges around the counter, caution and wary weighing his steps. They’re supposed to be muffled you think, soft, but they ring so loud.

“Stop!”

“Just let us explain, give us a minute-“

“I saw you! I saw you w-with him.” Your vision is blurred by tears, and you look down at your belly, desperate. “Just let us go, please. Don’t- don’t let him-“

“Listen to me, sweetheart. We have nothing to do with Phillip.” His name makes your flinch, and you inch backwards.

“You know him.”

“We do. He tried to kill us, betrayed us, on a mission. Nearly succeeded with Johnny.” The words conflict, mash together into a scramble you don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.

More lies. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know, I know you don’t. I wouldn’t if I was in your position either, but we’re telling the truth.” You shake your head.

“No. You’re just… you’re just trying to trick me.”

“We’re not,” Johnny murmurs, “We’ve always told ye the truth, bun. And we’d never hurt ye.” He steps forward. It’s too close, way too close, and you pivot, both knives still clutched in your hands.

“Put them down.” Simon instructs, a little bit of steel in his voice now. He can obviously see the one behind your back, and your heart starts to sink.

There’s no way out. You should have run when you had the chance. 

Stupid.

The girl in the mirror stays silent. She says nothing.

For all you know, she’s dead already. Killing blow dealt by your own hand.

You think about Sunbeam, all warm and safe, protected from the world, and despair swells in your chest, an entire ocean beneath your feet, waiting to swallow you up, drag you down and drown you.

“Now, sweetheart. We don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You laugh. It’s a sickly, nervous thing, too tinny and high pitched.

You’re falling apart. You’re not a fighter, you’re a runner, shot lame in a race rigged against you from the beginning. They’re closing in, wolves stalking the bleeding lamb between them, predators about to fall on prey.

 “Don’t,” whisper, fingers tightening around the knife in front of your body, unable to hold it steady through the trembling.

“Bunny, listen to us, please.” Johnny is reaching and you get trapped in his gaze, spiraling into the swirl of misery and fear, mirroring your own. “I love ye, we love ye. Ye belong with us, at home, where we can keep ye safe.” You slam your eyes shut, trying to block him out. “I’ve loved ye since the day I opened m’eyes and saw ye leaning over the bed. We’d never hurt ye, we jus’ want to take ye home.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Simon moves. One powerful, huge step, and he’s on you, grabbing your arm, applying pressure to your knuckles to release the knife.

You scream. It’s instinct. Everything shuts down, narrowing down to one objective.

Run.

“Johnny,” he half shouts over your keening, holding gentle pressure against your arm as you try to rip yourself free. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You thrash, trying to twist out of his grip, shoulder shrieking in pain, and he goes with your momentum, providing slack so there’s no tension in your arm. “Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself sweetheart, you’re okay.”

You’re not. 

You’re not okay. You’ll never be okay. 

The walls close in, and it all becomes so clear. Your future, what will happen if they take you, if you leave here with them.

They’ll take Sunbeam. They’ll turn you over to Phillip, throw you out like trash, and you’ll die.

Are you going to let it happen, just like you let everything else? Are you going to roll over? Let it all be stolen, again and again? 

No. 

Simon reaches for the other knife and you swing it wide, slicing through the air until the blade meets flesh.

He hisses. Blood spills, drips down the handle, coats your fingers, and you stand there, frozen, gobsmacked.

Did you- 

Did you just- 

“Johnny,” he barks, but it barely registers, you’re too transfixed by the blood, hypnotized by it, too entranced to even register Johnny at your side, too stunned to see what’s in his hand.

A needle. 

He whispers your name, cradles your face-

And then everything goes black.

[ki2rins]

⟢ SUGARBOT - pjs

"WELCOME TO SUGARBOT - HOW MAY I HELP YOU IN SEARCHING FOR YOUR SUGAR?"

pairings : sugardaddy! jay x sugarbaby! reader

genre : smau, fluff, angst, crack, swearing, suggestive, smut (mdni), strangers to lovers

synopsis : jay, a work oriented man who spends most of his time on work and yn, a broke college girl majoring in stem. what could happen when they stumble upon sugarbot, a sugardating platform where people could find company.

warning : BRIEF SUGARDADDY MOMENT ONLY, 6 years age gap between jay and reader, swearing, sexual content and jokes, kys jokes, the use of the word 'gay' etc. please do not read if any of this content makes you feel uncomfortable.

start : 4/2/25 end : ---

rin's yap : smau for sugardaddy! jay YAY!

taglist! : closed!

@kaykay11sworld @jvngw0nlvr @meowseong @enhaz1 @jakeswifez @nshmrarki @ice-dandan20 @ziiao @minawannabealone @enhamonsterghoul @d-dilemma @urmomdotcom5678 @starry-eyed-bimbo @r1kixss @jensyed @notab1tchwho @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @jooniesbears-blog @seongiewon @jayyvvhxss @younjo @siimplestar @suhwife @immprettywhenyoucry @machambrx @luvleyylina @maniluvzyou @ezekiel-bublz @lovingjongseong @in-somnias-world @strayy-kidz @xoaumin @wonnieluv @rairaiblog @dark-moon-light02 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @lelestarmy @trinxt @parkjjongswifey @liliansreality @letwiiparkjay @rodelalaland @melodiessvy @millis-diary @antisocialties @jayhoonvroom @nuki-riki @planetmarlowe @k9llgalner @whateveridontcaresheesh @eonchy @celestialen

users from here onwards would be tagged in the comments!

@ilovehoonie @maozal0v1es @kkamismom12 @honestlyatomicpanda @1-itsneverthatserious-1

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧

PROFILES

one - take my shift pls

two - im just a natural babe magnet!

three - bro wtf is that bio???

four - stupid [redacted]

five - charity work

six - hugs and apologies

seven - hugs and apologies pt 2

eight - venti sized cold brew / riyal or fakeh

nine - #mlm and i support

ten - jjongie

bonus #1 - the dinner interrogation

eleven - phone call

twelve - the weekly debrief

thirteen - RIZZLORD123

fourteen - fucked up

fifteen - im sorry

sixteen - HUNK OF A CHUNK???

seventeen - jjongie pt 2 / teenage angst

eighteen - the j word

nineteen - the first meet

twenty - T W O hours

twenty one - sweetheart, love and baby

twenty two - the first date

twenty three - scared her with your riches

twenty four - why would i hold your hand if i DONT LIKE YOU?

bonus #2 - different ways of showing affection

twenty five - new sem is gonna kill me, intern is gonna WRECK ME

twenty six - TELL ME IM NOT SHELDON.

twenty seven - what an incredible monday morning

twenty eight - sealed with many kisses

twenty nine - shitting bricks rn

thirty - bob, i need you to do smth RIGHT NEOW

thirty one - i really do wholeheartedly

thirty two - NOOB SIT DOWN LITTLE GIRL

thirty three - oml my boyfriend is evolving

thirty four - my girl, so so pretty, and all mine

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧

© ki2rins 2025, please do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[kyojurokoibito]

"LET ME PAY YOU!"

Pairing(s): kyojuro rengoku x reader

Synopsis: how kyojuro met his civilian wife

Genre: fluff

Warning(s): n/a

Kao's Notes: just something to put out there while i work on requests in the meantime :) enjoy! <3

"EXCUSE ME, MISS!"

"OH MY G—!" *BANG* "OW!"

you hit the top of your head on the bottom shelf of your stall as a loud voice rang through the night. you ran a popular food stall in the small, lovely town you call home. people loved coming by your food stall for the service, the food, and for a chance to talk with a beautiful lady. each day, you decided to try a new recipe, and everyone was eager to see what you'd be serving every day.

"forgive me," the loud voice called again. "it was not my intention to startle you!"

"i-it's alright." rubbing the crown of your head with a slight pout, you rose to look at the owner of said voice. "i–um–wasn't expecting many people to come by this late, so you caught me by surprise."

taking in the man's appearance, you quickly gathered he was a demon slayer. the distinct design of his haori, the nichirin blade at his hip, and the obvious uniform was a dead giveaway.

you smiled, "would you like something to eat while you're here? i'm making gyu kushi(beef skewers) on top of rice, along with some mochi tonight. you'd be the final person i'm serving!"

the man's smile nearly blinded you, "yes! i would appreciate that very much!"

"great!" his smile was so contagious. you couldn't help but to deliver one as well. "how many orders would you like?"

"that depends," he stated loudly, excitedly slamming his hands on the counter and smiling at you. "how many are you willing to make?!" that's...the first time you've received that response.

"o-oh...uh..." you looked beneath your stall again. "well, i could make the rest of my inventory for you..." you lifted your head to look at him with a nervous laugh. "although, it's a considerably large amount of food, sir."

he laughed, "if you are willing to make it, i am willing to eat it! and no need to call me, sir! i am rengoku kyojuro!" you couldn't stop yourself from laughing along.

"then i'll be happy to make it for you, rengoku-san!"

kyojuro watched you gather the ingredients and quickly get to work on prepping his food. it was clear this was like second nature to you. you worked so diligently and moved with unwavering certainty.

"so," you began as you continued cooking but kept your gaze on kyojuro. this caused the hashira to look at you. "what brings you by this late?"

"a mission," he stated proudly, his smile never leaving. "it is completed, but i always stop by to check on towns nearby!"

"well, that's nice of you," you stated before finishing his first plate of food and handing it to him. "here, have a taste before i make the rest."

he loudly thanked you before placing the beef skewer between his teeth, pulling one of the chunks of meat off with his teeth.

"TASTY!" another bite. "TASTY!" a bite of rice. "TASTY!" a bite of mochi. "TASTY!"

you clapped your hands in delight, overjoyed that the hashira found your food so tasteful.

"so, everything tastes okay? would you still like to have the rest, rengoku-san?" you asked, although you're sure you already knew the answer.

"yes! i would love the rest!" he began fishing around in his pocket. "how much would it be?!"

"oh no," you quickly shook your head and quickly began preparing the rest of the food with a content smile. "i never charge the slayers that pass through. it's the least i can do for you all."

"please!" he slammed a pouch of coins onto the counter, causing you to shriek at the loud noise. he leaned forward, eyes boring into you with conviction. "ALLOW ME TO PAY YOU!"

"i-it's no trouble, really!" you jumped back from the close proximity. he only leaned in closer.

"THIS AMOUNT OF FOOD WOULD SURELY MAKE A GREAT PROFIT FOR YOU!! LET ME PAY!!!"

"b-but, the sales i've made today are more than enough already!!!"

"TAKE MY MONEY!"

"i don't need to!!!"

you two continued back and forth like this as you finished cooking the remainder of his food, packaging them nicely in cute boxes, which only fueled his desire to pay you. as you had given him the last box, he beckoned you to him.

"if you will not let me pay," he placed his free hand on his hip. "then allow me to escort you home!"

placing a hand on your chin, you paused to mull it over. it was pretty late, and you did live on the other side of the town. even if it was small, it would grant enough time for a demon to stake its claim on you.

"alright," you finalized with a greatful nod. "sounds fair!"

on the way, you both engaged in a quiet, lovely conversation. topics ranging from your cooking, his work as a slayer(at least the parts he could tell you), or your childhood, the atmosphere around you was peaceful. now, the current subject of the conversation was family.

"yes, you're right," you respond with a smile as rengoku concluded a story about his little brother. "it can be difficult to care for little siblings. especially if the parent is...more or less present." you cringed at your lack of better term, but kyojuro didn't mind at all. "my parents, unfortunately, fell victim to a demon, so i understand."

"very much so, and i am sorry to hear that! my condolences to you!" he responded with a solemn nod before asking his next question. "i take it you have a sibling then?"

"mhm," you nodded with delight as you drew nearer to your house. "i am the eldest of seven."

"SEVEN?!" he immediately fished the pouch of coins back out before shoving it in your direction. "SUCH A LARGE FAMILY! NOW YOU REALLY MUST TAKE MY PAYMENT!!!"

"i told you already," you pushed it back toward him in defiance. "i don't need it!" he tossed the pouch towards you, leaving you no choice but to catch it. "hey! take it back!" you tried to hand the coin pouch back to him.

"my apologies," he exclaimed after using his other hand to hold the food as well, even though he didn't need to. his smile never faltered as he blatantly ignored your attempts to return his money. "but my hands are full! i can not hold anything else!"

"but you were carrying it one-handed this whole time! you can just–"

"my hands are full!"

"but–"

"i can not carRY ANYMORE!"

"ren–"

"IT IS A PERFECTLY LEGITIMATE REASON AS TO WHY YOU MUST KEEP IT!"

you gave up.

kyojuro–1

y/n–0

upon reaching your house, you turned face kyojuro and gave him a polite bow.

"thank you for walking me back, rengoku-san," you stood straight. "you really didn't have to...nor did you have to pay me."

"it was no trouble at all," he smiled down at you. "and please, call me kyojuro."

you opened the door, and entered the doorway to your home chorus of "NII-SAN" called out to you. fondly shaking your head at your siblings(who were supposed to be in bed by now), you turned back to the hashira and returned his smile.

"alright, well," you placed a gentle hand on one of your little brother's heads, who'd been tugging on your shirt to get your attention, and replied in a hushed voice. "goodnight, kyojuro. have a lovely evening, and please travel safely."

he visibly brightened once he heard his name fall from your lips, and a gentle smile was bestowed upon you.

"goodnight to you as well, and thank you."

as you closed the door, kyojuro happily went on his way but stopped. he couldn't believe he forgot such an important piece of information.

oh well, he'll simply have to find his way back to you because he never got your name.

[tiramissyoucake]

HIIII!! i js read ur thing ab the different roles w the variants (the bakery one n the idol one) and they were so good!!

i was wondering if u could write the mohawk (OF) one n the shiesty (streamer) mark ones??

love ur writing <33

Heeey thanks! I had a feeling someone would ask, I'm not rlly proud of Shiesty Mark's part here since I didn't know what to do wit it but I hope ya'll like it.

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, this has nsfw on Mohawk's part (shocker!)

CW: masturbation, dildos, nsfw videos

Based on this

Pt. 1 here

Mohawk Invincible:

There always was a certain guilt that gnawed at him whenever he spent money on not safe for work content, though Mark never had an issue shoving aside his conscience, he had an issue shoving aside the discomfort when the content wasn't catered to him enough, did people on OF just forget how to be sexy?

One thing he dislikes for 2 seconds and he scrolls. It turns him off immediately. He spends more time cringing at his phone with his dick in his hand trying to find someone, *anyone* that can scratch that itch just right.

So imagine his pure euphoria when he spots your face, gets through your paywall and sees just how well you cater to him.

God, your angles, the setting and your noises, he has to pace himself and refrain from fisting his cock so quickly and cumming to soon, he wants to savor your videos and pictures.

He has notifications turned on for all your socials, he's the first to pay for your content, the first to comment. Anytime his dick hardens even a little bit he immediately pulls up your page.

Mark sees you take commissions and practically works overtime to make his request happen, a grin tearing through when the payment is accepted and in less than 3 days, a video was already up labelled 'commissions'

This time, he didn't have to get through a paywall because it was sent to him the moment it was finished.

The details were simple: he wanted a personalised boyfriend experience video, you had to use a dildo as a replacement but fuck, you were so good at convincing him it was real when you moaned his name.

He was glad he let you post it, these chumps needed to know who was your best supporter.

"Missed you all day, Mark..." he bit his bottom lip harshly at the whiny tone from the video, watching you fuck yourself to please him gave him such an ego trip. Money well spent.

The way you called out his name repeatedly and so sweetly was enough for him to coat his stomach in white spurts, hissing in pleasure when he realised that he timed his orgasm with yours just right, thank God he tipped you.

. . .

Hearing a cry for help from a desecrated building, a blood-thirsty smile came across Mark's features as he followed the shouts asking for anyone to help. This was his favorite; pose as a helping hero, outstretch a hand to help before killing them shamelessly.

Something about that voice was familiar, like he heard it before. He blamed it on the acoustics of the surrounding rubble and smoke, he found the source, a store toppled over and broken into bits of concrete, he could see a head of hair and one outstretched hand

"Please! Anyone! I'm stuck!!"

"Are you now?" His boots came into your view as you strained to look up, not exactly Invincible himself... "have no fear, citizen." He mocked with a grin, effortlessly removing a large chunk of stone and throwing it God knows where, lifting you out from underneath.

He paused, looking over your physique and expression, the voice was freaky but this was... freakier. Something stirred in him.

"... Oh. Ooooh." He laughed, holding you closely as his eyes raked over you. "Holy shit, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

Perplexed, you tried to separate from him only to be met with an unmoving grip. "You went off the grid in my dimension, y'know? Just. Poof! But damn! No one could really make me cum like you did!" He almost sighed romantically

Your face contorted to a cringe as you tried to shove him away. "What're you talking about?! Let go of me, you pervert!!"

"Oh, you have no clue." He grinned, his hands branching out to grip you wherever, landing on your ass his fingers squeezed and kneaded the flesh as he looked over your shoulder, hissing through his teeth as the memories came flooding back "I could never forget this ass either.."

Your face flushed in embarassment, his grip too tight for you to break free. "Mmh, this is better than that vid I commissioned. I threw so much money at you, baby!" Mark was well aware you didn't know what he was referring to, you weren't the same person but this was definitely the same body. Like you were made from the same mould.

"Let's go somewhere private, I'll show you just how well I know you."

♡

Shiesty Mark:

College was boring, studying was worse. Music did not help him focus and podcasts on topics he cared about just ruined his focus, Mark scoured the Internet for any sources, anything that he could play while absentmindedly focusing.

It was only when he came across a tiktok of yours playing some overly pixilated game that his interest was piqued, nonsensical commentary was everyone's cup of tea nowadays, so, by pure coincidence, he found you were live when he looked for your channel.

You were playing a horror game, Poppy bedtime or whatever, he didn't. The way you reacted to the scares, your cocky attitude when you solved a puzzle, the way you focused on boss fights was charming. It wasn't long before he managed to go through all the slides needed for his quiz and you were still going, vowing to finish the game. A comment wouldn't hurt.

MarkG_: I finished studying for my quiz and ur still playing lol

To his surprise, you noted his comment through the handful of viewers. "You finished studying? Oh, good luck on the quiz! I'm actually happy this chapter is longer, The last one was so short!"

Maybe a few more comments wouldn't hurt, soon enough he was a regular who commented game suggestions or simple friendly jabs, he never really crossed a line with you given you started as a distraction and he insisted you still were.

You played the games he recommended, greeted him when he made his presence known, his heart pounded in his chest every time you did because it meant you were keeping him in mind during these long streams, not those other losers, but him.

Someone did cross a line at some point, a self-proclaimed and entitled 'fan', putting your safety in danger and ultimately causing you to apologise and go offline for a while for your safety. That time was painfully quiet, other streamers were too boring or too loud, he understood your need to put some distance between you and entitled fans but fuck, he was tired of watching old vods.

It didn't really matter, being Invincible soon swallowed up so much of his time he didn't check back to see you when you returned.

. . .

Another pathetic squirming hero, another embarrassing defeat. Mark held the 'hero's wrist with a bored expression behind the loose face covering as he crushed the hero's wrist. "Seriously? You guys are lame, y'know there's like 20 of us?"

He didn't wait for a response as he lifted and launched them into whatever structure was in view, grinning at the impact as the hero crashed through a building and succumbed to the debris. "C'mon! Is nobody in this shithole worth it?!" He almost shrieked, waiting for a beat to see if anyone would try to refute him, the destruction can wait.

A rock flew through the air and decked him in the back of his head, it didn't hurt but it pissed him off, eyebrows furrowing and turning to look.

You stood with an arm outstretched, holding a metal pipe from where he was sure was the destroyed city, you looked terrified. "... this some kinda joke?"

You lifted the pipe, if you'll die you'll go out fighting like hell, no man impersonates your close friend without you beating the shit out of him. "What?! Hotshot alien too scared to take on ONE human?!"

He noted your features, you looked different without a camera at one fixed angle. Realisation came to him, you were that cute streamer he followed back in his world.

"No shit, of course you'd be here." He came closer, asfalt and dirt crunching under his boots as you readjusted your grip. "Back off!"

"Of fucking course, because why not? Let's make it more of a pain in my ass! Give me someone I don't wanna kill in this stupid town!" His rambling unnerved you, but you stood your ground. The moment he lifted a hand to grab you, your arms reacted and swung as hard as you could, the pipe connecting with his head. Nothing.

Mark stayed quiet, the resounding echo of the pipe connecting with his skull disappearing as his hand clutched it and tore it from your hands, bending it in his grip like it was some pretzel and throwing it aside. "Got it outta your system?"

"Fuck you!" You spat out immediately, you were more hostile here, that's for sure.

"Maybe let's get to know each other first." He grinned behind the cloak-like covering. "Don't struggle."

You gasped as he bent down and easily threw you over his shoulder, your fists immediately beating his back. "Let go of me! I'll kill you!" You were so cute.

"Sure, I'd love to see you try to wrestle me down, hun." He chuckled, glancing around the ruined town. "Hold on tight, I fucked this place up too good."

He'll find a little corner to be able to talk to you properly, he hadn't heard your voice in so long, he almost felt guilty taking pleasure in your screaming as you held onto him while he soared through the sky.

"We'll get real close and personal this time, alright?"

[baniisharur0tte]

Dirty Laundry ♡

(ch. 2 here)

synopsis: you dropped your panties in the hallway on laundry day. little did you know, your dear friend Tanjiro Kamado found them. and he's never giving them back!!!!!

word count: 13.3k !!! <3

content: VILE FILTH !!!! 18+ !!!!! smutty as all hell. lemonade for all. panty sniffing!!!!!!! oral sex (F!receiving) P->V penetration, an absurd amount of masturbation, mentions of light choking, mentions of oral sex (M!receiving) some cute fluff, the L Word, lots of tears bordering on dachryphilia, mutual pining, degradation (self-inflicted), shame kink, Virgin!Tanjiro corrupted, public masturbation

characters: Tanjiro Kamado, You, Inosuke mentioned, Zenitsu mentioned, Shinobu mentioned.

(authors note: pretend he has long luscious hair cuz RIP WHY DID U CUT IT, he's like 24-25 and so are u. ur character is studying under Shinobu and working as a care taker at the Butterfly Mansion. okay byee have fun!!1!1!!!)

☆♡☆★♡☆★♡☆★♡☆

he woke up to the gleaming sunshine trickling in through the slatted window above his headboard. stretching and swinging his legs off the bed, he rubs his eyes and pushes his hair out of his face. it was late summer, the cherry blossoms around the courtyard bearing small fruits and gently turning yellow as fall gets closer. slowly, with the gentle morning haze, he gathers his toiletries to head outside to the bathhouse. as he steps out into the dorm hall, it's already bustling with caretakers carrying baskets of laundry from around the mansion-

it's laundry day again.

he turns back in to grab his white wicker basket from behind the door, and places it outside his room to be collected. he would bring it himself, but he got scolded the last 3 times he tried to help. he rounds the corner through the caretaker hall with their dorms, and steps out onto the grass, still wet with dew. the early morning light peaking through the tall wooden fences, it was still cool out before the afternoon sun beat down onto the courtyard, loosening collars and mopping brows. he took a deep breath in, admiring how peaceful it was outside. his linen pajama pants flowing, the cool breeze was gentle on his face.

once inside, he brushed his teeth. splashing the cool water on his face, he hears others enter behind him. inosuke laughing maniacally running past him, pushing open the double doors to the baths with his head. as they swing shut, he hears a giant SPLASH. he looks up into the mirror smiling to himself. through the mirror he can see zenitsu trudging in with his towel slung over his shoulder. he looked droopy and mopey, complaining loudly about how unfair it was that they always had to be up so early to train. as he passed through the double doors himself, he was tackled and thrown into the water by inosuke, screaming "fight for me underling!!! there is a monster at the bottom of the bath, we shall vanquish it together!!!!"

the crashing and squeals of protest from behind the door as they swung shut made him laugh to himself- if they were anything, they were always themselves, weren't they?

walking back inside, he sees you pulling your own laundry basket out of your dorm room to take down to the washing station outside. your white wicker basket is nearly overflowing, spilling rogue socks and undershirts all over the hallway.

you awkwardly bend down to pick them up with one hand, supporting the basket with your other arm and your knee. you straighten up and try to close the sliding door behind you with limiting success. he slows down as he passes you, watching you struggle to carry the heavy basket with two hands, and shut the door with your foot.

he lingers on the thought of the day he realized he had feelings for you. the year before in spring as the cherry blossoms bloomed, he was sent to the infirmary for the millionth time. he had taken a huge chunk of rock the the face in an explosion he could've easily avoided had he trusted inosuke to jump out of the way in time. but he always wanted to protect others first, his comrades were his family now.

their safety was his peace of mind.

his lip was bruised and split open, cheek slashed, and his jaw was dislocated and needed to be reset. he looked like a bloody swollen mess when he arrived- drooling blood and unable to speak.

he was laid down on one of the soft white cots, the kakushi who carried him in was folding down his collar and laying his arms at his sides.

you swiftly took your place on the stool on the side of the bed, shinobu coming around the other side to inject a numbing agent into his jaw and chin.

you assessed the damage, his jaw crooked and unable to fully close.

"tanjiro, you dislocated your jaw. i'm going to reset it but this is going to hurt. i need you to stay still, okay?"

he nodded, looking up at you with the eye that wasn't swollen shut and purple.

you reset his jaw with a loud POP. he hissed with a small "aah!" but kept true to his word and held still.

you held his jaw closed, your hand cupped under his chin to help alleviate the pain. after a few seconds you remove your hand and have him move his jaw. you check for any breaks or irregularities, but it looks to be alright. next, you have to clean his lip and stitch it closed. the bleeding had slowed, but his wound was caked with sand and dried blood running down his neck. you took a towel soaked in hot water and gently cleaned the blood and grime off his neck and lip.

as you stitched it back up, he kept his eyes trained on your face. wincing occasionally, but otherwise he maintained studying your expression.

a look in his eye, almost like he was quietly saying closer, please.

your touch was so gentle, your face scrunched up with concern. you muttered about how he was stupid, how he was lucky he didn't break his jaw, how he needs to be more careful.

your words were sharp, but your hand was gently holding his opposite cheek. your thumb rubbing small circles as if it were an unconscious second nature to you.

he always knew you were kind, gentle and smart. you were brave and strong, you were warm and your presence was inviting. whenever you spoke to him, your very nature made him feel like you cared only about that conversation. so charismatic and captivating.

but in that moment, your strong, soft hands holding his face so lovingly, something bloomed in his chest. something he ached for so painfully, something he couldn't quite identify. something he felt like he lost a long time ago, and would fall to his knees in the dirt and scream at the sky demanding it back.

he spent that night searching in himself for what it was, what wound had you touched inside his heart? whatever it was, he longed for you to come back to hold him again. he wanted to cry in your hands while you comforted him.

since that day, his heart skipped a beat in your presence. he looked for you in large crowds, and wondered how you spent your days when he was away from the mansion on missions.

watching you struggle with your basket, he said "you need any help with that ?" smiling warmly at you.

"actually, if you wouldn't mind shutting my door, i can't seem to get it myself."

he pulls the sliding door shut behind you. you set down the basket, puffing at your hair that's hanging in your face. 'you off to train this morning?' you say, giving him an up and down, taking note of his pajamas.

"ahh, yes. i forgot to bring my uniform into the bathhouse this morning, but it's fine. i'm changing and headed down to dining. you working laundry today?" he says gesturing around at everyone.

you sigh, "nope! i'm on gardening this morning! but the cicadas were loud last night which means it'll be really hot this afternoon. but that's alright, i have plenty of snacks and water." you say patting your apron pocket, he can only assume it's packed with small candies and a bag of dried meat- your two favorite snacks from the snack shelf outside the kitchen.

"well it sounds like you have it all figured out then!" he chuckled brightly. as he says this, you wave to someone over his shoulder.

"it seems i do! i gotta go-i know i'm coming!-i'll see you later! good luck out there today!" as you lift up the heavy basket and whisk down the hall.

"thank you, you too!" he waves as you scurry away. he watches you as you leave, smiling warmly. you are so cute, he always wishes you could stay and talk longer.

as he looks down at his own clothes remembering he has to change for training, he spots a small bunch of clothing on the floor. as he picks it up, calling to you "hey, you dropped this!' you couldn't hear him from the other end in all the noise cluttering between you. he starts to walk towards you and call out 'hey! wait up! you drop-" he stops as he looks down and realizes what he's holding.

your dirty underwear.

oh, fuck.

a hot spike runs down his back.

what am i supposed to do??? i can't bring this to you, that would be so embarrassing.

as he stands frozen, staring at his clenched fist, his face grows hotter by the second.

he's clenching your worn, used panties in his fist in the middle of a busy walkway.

the smell emanated from them was.... amazing. they were so soft.

shaking his head trying to clear his mind, he felt his palms clam up and a stirring in his stomach.

i didn't know you smelled so fucking good.

he thought to himself, his mouth watering.

"tanjiro! tanjiro! hey, c'mere! i need your heeellppp!" zenitsu calls from a few doors down. startled, he whips his head around and shoves your panties into his pocket along with both of his hands in an effort to appear casual.

'tanjirooooo!'

nervous and sweaty, he runs away and books it back towards his dorm.

he barreled into his room slamming the door shut behind him. he tossed himself onto his bed, with his hand smacked over his hot, red face. his hand in his pocket clenched around the soft lacy fabric. he was stiff as a board, nearly shaking with how tense he felt. his mind was racing like he had committed a crime.

well, technically i did. i stole from her. i stole her... panties. oh my god, that's disgusting.

the thought welled up in his stomach like hot lava. he could throw up. it was so perverse and wrong, it was so disrespectful to her. but what was he supposed to do now ? he couldn't just return it to you. imagining the look on your face as he hands over your panties, it was enough to make him nauseous. you would never speak to him again. why did he take them??? he panicked, that's all. he didn't want you to be embarrassed by him telling you that you dropped them, so he was gonna get rid of them for you. that's all. yes, that's what he did. he got up, and walked over to the little trash can next to his bed and he held his hand out with your panties over the trash can. his eyes squeezed shut so he wouldn't see them again, he tried to drop them. but his body wouldn't move. there was a sweet, warm smell in the air. it smelled so good, he knew what it was and it made him sick. he was a monster, he needed to get rid of these. he felt himself throbbing and pushing on the waistband of his pajamas, he was so overwhelmed with lust. he stood there for a long time, what felt like hours. eyes clenched, hand hovering over the trash can, cock throbbing in his pants. it was too much, his eyes started to prick with hot tears of embarrassment. it just smells so good, you just smell so good. he slowly opened his eyes, lowering his fist.

just once, then i'll throw them away.

he thought to himself, his hands shaking. he turned over his palm and looked at them again. the more he relaxed his hand, the stronger the scent was in his room. a balmy, warm smell. it was musky, and smelled almost like vanilla. his knees felt weak, he couldn't take it anymore. he slowly sat down on the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on the fabric in his hand. he slowly, shamefully brought them to his face. he slowly covered his mouth and nose with them like a chloroform rag, and with it he fell back onto his bed. without even realizing what he was doing, he was already groping himself through his pants. they were so tight, it hurt. the ache was too much, he had to relieve it. quickly, he untied them with one hand, the other pressing the fabric into his face harder. he was already groaning at the smell, the feeling of your panties on his face. he had his hand down his pants fucking his fist. it was a fast, feverish pace. he was so overcome with lust and shame, all he could think was

i'm such a pervert

i'm such a pervert

i'm such a pervert

over and over again. but it only made him harder to know what he was doing was so foul. the images flashing through his mind were something hed never seen before.

he saw himself running his hands up and down your naked back as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, licking and biting your collar bones. such vulnerable positions you could be in, your ankles by his ears. on your stomach, your throat in his hands. hearing his own whimpers and grunts muffled by his hand, he could only imagine what you would sound like. do you touch yourself ? do you think of me?

it was too much for him. it was so disrespectful, but he couldn't stop. his mind brought him back to a few months ago. on a cold night in february, he had a fever and a wound on his hip. his stay in the infirmary were longer than the others, so he spent many nights alone. cold and hot and cold and hot, restless and in pain. he was in and out of sleep, the moonlight bathing half the room in silvery light keeping sleep away. it was a hazy memory, but your touch was electric. you quietly opened the door and padded into the room. you pulled the stool out from under his bed, and placed a small bucket of hot water on it. from your apron pocket, you pulled out clean white towels and set them on the nightstand. he was so tired, one eye half open. to you, you still thought he was asleep. he closed his eyes, feeling his head swim. you peeled his blanket down to his mid thigh. he shuddered and winced at the cold air. in a low, soft voice, you said "don't worry, i'll keep you warm. i just have to clean your stitches. you'll get your blanket back. it's okay."

it comforted him, and made him feel warm inside even if his hot skin felt freezing. you gently pulled up the hem of his shirt to his ribs, and the waistband of his pants down enough to see the edge of the wound. it ran from just under his ribs, to the point of his hip bone. you gently pressed a firm hand on the middle of his stomach to steady his shivering as you cleaned the wound gently with hot water. he stirred in his sleep, making a soft, weak moan as you touched him. he was in and out, but he remembered smelling, embarrassment? not quite, but something similar in the air. the only thing he was truly aware of was the awful moonlight keeping him up, and your warm touch on his stomach. when you finished cleaning his stitches, you fixed his clothes, tucked him back into the blanket, and took another towel and gently wiped his forehead and neck. you pressed a hand to his cheek, and left wordlessly.

feeling your touch on him, your hand on his stomach. he remembers it so clearly, and he wants more. more. more. more.

he inhaled sharply and deeply, that warm smell haunting him. his shame was only fueling his frenzy, he didn't understand. he couldn't stop. he was panting and grunting into his fist, he tried to shove his knuckles into his mouth. his fingers tangled in the fabric, he ended up accidentally stuffing your panties into his mouth. his eyes shot open, tasting you. with that, he came violently into his tight fist. he choked on his own hand, trying desperately to keep himself quiet. there were so many people in the halls right now, the worst possible thing would be someone catching him sniffing your panties and abusing his cock to them. he ruined his pants, he probably ruined your friendship, but he had never cum so hard in his life. as he came down, the shame overtook him. he stripped of his ruined pajamas and changed into his uniform, balling up his ruined pants tightly and throwing them into a pile where his laundry basket would be. he sighed, looking down at his bed. your underwear tossed in the middle of his blanket. he wordlessly opened his bedside drawer, and took out a small white bag. inside it, was some jewelry he took with him from his family home. he laid the small beaded necklace and the silver ring gently in the drawer, and stuffed your underwear inside the bag. he pushed it to the farthest corner of his drawer, and shut it tight. looking down at his feet, he felt so much shame and guilt. thinking about having to come face to face with you after what he just did, it made him break out into a cold sweat. but he knew he could never throw them away now.

he collected himself, putting his hair up into a bun and tucking the loose strands behind his ears. he left his room and met with the others for training, having skipped breakfast hiding in shame until it was time to meet outside. he pushed himself hard that day, trying to forget about how he spent his morning. however, in the back of his mind like a buzzing itch, all he could think about was when he'd get another chance to be alone in his room, locking himself away to pleasure himself again. he had never felt such intense urges like this, and it scared him a little.

why were you so distracting?

he knew what sex was, at least mechanically. he understood the process, and he understood the appeal- pretty girls wanting to be so close to you. and he touched himself when he needed to, if he was restless and couldn't sleep, or if he couldn't ignore the ache in his pants anymore. he thought of little things when he pleasured himself, like pictures of pretty women he saw on clothing adverts at the train station, or once a cut out from a lewd magazine that zenitsu gave him, snickering saying "if you've never seen something like this before, it'll change your life."

but none of these things were what made him restless at night, or made him ache and throb. they were simply a solution when the night was long. to him, pleasuring himself was like bathing. you did it when you needed to, some days it was a chore and some days it was a comfort. regardless, it wasn't important or a distraction.

until you.

that night he tossed and turned in bed. everything was uncomfortable, his whole body was buzzing with energy. his legs tangled in his blanket making him cry out in frustration shoving his face into his pillow. "leave me alone, just let me sleep!!!"he whined, muffling his anger.

he turned over, staring at the ceiling.

you know what would fix this. you know what will help you sleep.

no, i can't do that again. i can't use you like that, you aren't some thing i can pull out when im restless and shove back into my drawer when im done. that's terrible, i can't do that.

he tried touching himself, closing his eyes and thinking of you. a few weeks ago, he saw you sitting on a bench under a cherry blossom tree in the courtyard chatting with your friend who works in the dining hall. it was hot, the air was thick and heavy. the buzz of the cicadas falling over the grass as the sun began to set. as he walked over to talk to you, you began unbuttoning your uniform jacket. you wore a thin white undershirt with a low neckline. fanning your face and shifting the clothing around your shoulders, not taking off your jacket but not exactly wearing it. he stopped for a moment. you weren't allowed to remove your uniform. you lived here, but you also worked here. as a groundskeeper and a caretaker, there was no such thing as off duty. you had days where your responsibilities were less, days where you could wear street clothes into the market or spend a day out with friends, but the butterfly mansion was your whole life. you lived in that jacket, even in the heavy heat of the summer. he realized he'd never seen you in anything other than your black jacket, or white apron. of course he understands, it's hot and the air is so muggy.

i won't tell anyone, you can take it off. i'll keep your secret for you.

his face grew hot as he realized that what he was thinking, if anyone had heard it somehow, would sound so inappropriate. but he didn't mean it like that, he just meant that it's hot. he trains without a shirt every day, even in colder months. sometimes, even in the winter. he gets to strip down to what is comfortable, why can't you ? before he could turn around to leave, embarrassment heating his face, you notice him and wave him over. he comes over to you, greeting you. as he does, you begin to button your jacket back up. shamefully, he feels disappointment. he really, really wouldn't mind if you got more comfortable. your thin, white undershirt. it was tight, and it clung low on your chest. he could see the curve of your waist, the dip of your ribs below your breasts, your stomach looked soft and strong, he wanted to know what you tasted like. trailing sloppy kisses from your neck to the waistline of your pants, pulling them down with his teeth-

"how was training ? it was so hot today, im sure it was tiring." you say.

what ?

what did she say ?

training.

yes.

"yeah, it was pretty hot, i had to take a few breaks to have water inside but it wasn't a problem. what about you ? i saw you doing laundry out here earlier, you must've been hot too." he said rubbing the back of his neck.

"it was no problem! i spend most of it sitting in front of the wash board so it's fine. the worst is when you get sweaty from scrubbing the stains, but the cold water feels great on your arms. i just wish we had short sleeve uniform tops. the summer clothes are lighter, but having to keep pushing my sleeves up and getting them wet is the worst. what about you today, in dining?" you turned to your friend.

he nervously fidgets with his hands in his pockets, it's so hard to focus. apparently the kitchen in the dining hall gets disgustingly hot in the summer, the steam from the pots boiling noodles, it seems. he's not really paying attention. he keeps catching himself wandering around your frame. his eyes lingering on the angle of your jaw by your ear, your hair off your neck, exposing the twist and turn of your neck muscles as you nod, listening to your friend. your twisting the ring on your right middle finger, your fidgeting too.

do i make you nervous ? can you tell you make me nervous ?

he's lost in thought, until her friend breaks through. "well, im off to the baths. i'm on for breakfast tomorrow so i'm gonna turn in soon. i'll see you later! bye tanjiro! it was nice seeing you!"

she turns and heads inside, leaving you two alone. you sit next to her on the bench, and you can smell her so strongly now. that warm comforting smell, kind of like vanilla. she's still fidgeting with her ring.

"can i see it?" he said gesturing at your hand.

"see what ? my ring? oh, sure."

a light wash of pink grows on your cheeks as you hold out your hand. he takes it and examines your ring. your hands are soft, and smaller than his, but they are the hands of someone who works hard. soft as they may be, your nails are broken and you have callouses on your palms. you devote your life to maintaining the butterfly mansion.

her hands are so beautiful. i want her to hold my face again..

"the ring is my mothers, she gave it to me before final selection. she said it would bring me protection and good luck. i survived because i was fast, not because i was a fighter. my mom was the head cook here before she retired, and i wanted to be a caretaker here too. i've trained in the basics of combat, but really i always wanted to live here. i want to meet people and hear their stories, i don't want to have many stories myself. yknow?"

he gently turns the ring on your finger, letting his thumb rest on your knuckles.

"yeah, i understand that. before this, i made and sold charcoal for my family. my job consisted of chopping wood, burning wood, shaping the coal into bricks, and walking down the mountain to sell it in town. i met lots of great people, and i became friends with almost everyone in the village. i helped them fix things in their house, or mend clothes with their mothers. i heard all about people's lives, it was really nice. the only reason i ended up here is because of nezuko. if none of that had happened, if i hadn't lost my family, i wouldn't have become a demon slayer. i wouldn't have ever picked up a sword. i was very content with my life, making charcoal and helping people in town."

"it sounds selfish, but i'm glad you're here. i like talking with you, and i'd be sad if you never showed up here and i knew i would've never met you.' you blush and looked down at your lap, pulling your hand away to twist your ring again. 'i don't know, that sounds stupid. i'm trying to say i'm... i'm glad your my friend."

he smiles warmly, and reaches out for your hand again, you smell like that Almost Embarrassed smell again, like that night in the infirmary.

"i'm glad your my friend too."

he wanted to touch you more. he wanted to run his hands up your arms, up your neck, cup your jaw and kiss you. he wanted to kiss you, taste your lips. your tongue, anything. he wanted to put your hand on his chin, he wanted you to touch his lips. he wanted to taste your fingers, he wanted to kiss those hands that work so hard. he wanted to help you relax. help you release something. tension, stress, that feeling he keeps smelling on her, whatever it was, he wanted to wash it from her.

recalling that feeling of utter desperation to be touched by you, the shame he felt from thinking of you so lustfully when you unbuttoned your jacket, it filled his mind as he tried to please himself without your underwear on his face. but it wasn't enough. he had never let himself think about you before. any time he had lewd thoughts of you cross his mind when he touched himself, he pushed it away with ease. his goal was to relax, he didn't want to dwell on fantasies he couldn't fulfill. masturbation was like bathing- it was a chore some days and a comfort on others. he always wanted to remain focused on his goals, his training, his sister. he didn't have the time nor the energy to spare on this mindless self indulgence. but now, it was different. suddenly there wasn't anything that could satisfy him. he indulged himself to push further into that memory, relishing in the way he ate you with his eyes when he saw you in your undershirt.

what else ? what else did i want ?

he wanted to push your shirt up over your chest, groping and pawing at you. hearing you whine and moan as he pinched and licked your nipples. he wanted to pick you up and put you on his lap, tightly gripping your hips and grinding you into his hard cock with his face buried in your chest, trailing dark red hickeys from your neck down to your stomach. he wanted to hike up your skirt (wait, weren't you wearing pants?) and push your panties to the side, and feel your soft warm pussy on his fingers. he wanted to taste you on his hands, make you taste yourself on his fingers.

he could feel himself getting closer, he was fighting so hard to make himself cum. he needed to sleep so bad, he wanted to put all of this behind him. he was furiously stroking his cock, eyes screwed shut, panting and groaning into his empty bedroom.

what else?! what else do i want??

he thought hurriedly, trying to conjure up anything that would push him over the edge so that he wouldn't need to use your panties again.

i want to sprawl you out on my bed, pull your panties off with my teeth, and taste you. i want to suck on your clit, watching you writhe around in pleasure. i want you to use me, pushing my face deeper into you. i want you to pull my hair as you cum, moaning my name as you force me to drink all of you.

"i want to make you feel good... please please let me make you feel good"

he whispered to himself, finally cumming into his fist again. he made such a mess of himself, cum all over his hand and his stomach. catching his breath, he gets up to clean himself off with a towel. laying back down, he closes his eyes to try to sleep, finally feeling relaxed.

but still, it wasn't enough. that night he dreamt of you. messy, disconnected dreams with no plot, no context. just endless snippets of biting flesh, throaty moans, dark rooms. visions of sparkling summer days being sullied by foul, perverted fantasies. he fucks you by the koi pond in the courtyard. you ride his face on a table in the dining hall. you ride his cock in the infirmary, using him over and over again to make yourself cum. an empty, an unmarked hallway he doesn't recognize, you push him against a wall, on your knees sucking his cock. his dreams, cut short every time he's about to cum. he wakes up sweating and moaning into his pillow. he's face down, dry humping his bed. a wet pool of precum stains his sheets. he sits up frantically, his cock throbbing so hard it hurts. tears prick his eyes in frustration, he doesn't understand what's happening. in about 18 hours, it felt like he came down with a horrible sickness.

or an agonizing addiction.

he had never been so possessed by anyone or anything before. nothing had overtaken his mind so quickly and so viciously. he is utterly haunted by you, all of this over some dirty laundry. angrily, he slams open his drawer, grabbing the small white bag. pulling the strings open with his teeth, hurriedly pulling out your panties.

fuck it. i need you.

he shoves them to his face and begins furiously stroking his cock. it's slick and wet with precum, he's so close yet so far from his release. angrily, bitterly, he huffs and pants desperately trying to get you out of his head. your smell floods his brain, all he can think about is your gushing pussy cumming all over his face. his cock. his fingers, his thigh. biting your lower lip and pulling back as you moan into him, fucking you into his mattress.

angry, bitter lust.

"just let me go-fuck, oh my god-i need you so badly. why can't i just sleep???"

he whines into his fist. he shoves your panties in his mouth again, hoping to trigger his orgasm. he tastes you on the thin soft cotton, and it pushes him even further. but still, he can't be satisfied. he needs to move, he needs to physically feel like you're here. he needs to fuck something. he would fuck a doorknob right now if it meant he would have peace. he gets up, grabbing his pillows. he lays them one on top of the other, spits on his hand to wet himself more, and shoves his cock between them. he's so embarrassed and ashamed of what he doing, he's fucking his pillows like a spun out loser. hot waves of shame wash over him but it doesn't matter. if he can sleep after this, he can just pretend it never happened. maybe he can throw out these panties after, maybe this will be enough to rid him of this horrible plague. it's not tight enough, so he lays on the pillows fucking into them, sucking on your panties. it's a horrible, disgustingly lewd sight. he's whining and whimpering, grunting like an animal.

he's lost all composure.

he fantasizes about your tight wet pussy sucking in his cock over and over again, your tits bouncing around under him as you moan his name. seeing your stomach rise and fall with every thrust, fucking deeper and deeper into you. slow languid strokes turning to frenzied animalistic thrusts. he fantasizes about his hand on your throat, feeling you swallow and choke on your words as you cum, your pussy gushing and squelching and squeezing around him, your pretty face twisting into a look of pure pleasure-

its enough to send him over the edge.

he cums even harder than he did the first time. his vision spotty and white, his orgasm lasting so long it's painful. his cock twitching and throbbing as he dumps so much cum between his pillowcases. he makes a sound he didn't know he was capable of, some sort of grunt? scream? something near inhuman as his release washes over him, choking and gagging on your panties.

he collapses on top of the disgusting mess he made, too exhausted to even feel ashamed. he throws the pillows onto the floor, pulls your panties from his mouth, now wet with drool and puts them back in the bag, and gently puts them back in his bedside drawer. throwing off the rest of his clingy, sweaty clothes, he collapses on his bed finally sleeping soundly until morning.

to his horror, this was far from the end of his torture.

every night like clockwork, he would toss and turn restlessly until he was forced to pleasure himself. if he didn't, he would wake up dry humping his bed with an angry throbbing erection he'd have to get rid of anyway. he would always go through the same routine, ignoring the hole burning into his bedside table by your panties tucked away amongst the clutter, trying to fuck his fist hard enough to satiate his needs.

when that would inevitably fail, he would shamefully pull out your panties to sniff and suck on them until he came. if that didn't work, he would find something to fuck. the disaster he made with his pillowcases was a hassle.

the next morning he had to scurry into the bathhouse and wash them in the early morning light before putting them in his laundry so nobody- godforbid you- found them covered in cum.

so that wasn't an option.

he often resorted to just humping his bed, or balling up his sheets at his waist and fucking those. but it came with the same risk, what if someone found them? eventually he resorted back to fucking his pillows again. if felt the best, and he could steal extra pillow cases from the linen closet in the hall and keep washing the ones he ruined in the bathhouse before anyone woke up. as long as it wasn't often, he could manage that.

but none of that eased his shame.

your panties were losing their smell, and seeing you around the mansion made it so much worse. the days he saw you, those were the nights where he was forced to fuck his pillows like a pervert.

he was running out of options.

he can't cum without your underwear smothering him, and the gentle touches you'd leave on his arms and back as you walked by, greeted him, talked to him about your day, they went straight to his cock. being around you, just smelling the air around u was torture. you smells so sweet, so warm. you were gentle and brave, you were kind and thoughtful. you brought him snacks and water while he trained, you told him about your family and what you liked to do when you weren't working. you listened when he shared his insecurities, not sure if he would be able to become a hashira or cure his sister. you were such a great friend, and he ruined it by being such a disgusting pervert.

one night, he tossed and turned until his restless legs brought him out of bed. the cicadas chirping outside his window, the moonlight pouring in between the slatted windows. his eyes would not stay closed, no matter what he did. his sexual frustration wouldn't subside and he was sick of abusing his poor body with no satisfaction. as his legs carried him in paces around his room, he began gathering his things to head to the bath house. by this time, it would've been empty for hours. some warm water and the tranquility of the water lapping over the edge of the small pool will soothe his frenzied nerves, surely.

padding out across the grass, he moves quietly so not to disturb anyone trying to sleep with open windows.

walking around the side to the men's washroom, he takes a few slow deep breaths.

this is gonna soothe him, it's going to be okay.

the warm light of the bath house welcoming him, he strips of his pajamas and steps into the shower. the cool water washes over him, already whisking away the heat of distress on his skin. stepping out loosely holding a towel around his waist, he slings his bag of clothing and toiletries over his shoulder. as he approaches the large double doors into the bath, he can hear the water stirring. he pauses trying to figure out who it is. the air is clouded by the smell of wisteria and floral soaps, he can't make anything out. assuming it's just someone else up for a late night soak, he walks in. he's already made the decision he will just have to politely decline small talk, he's in no position to socialize at the moment.

he steps inside, the hot medicinal steam hits his face. so warm, he already felt a little calmer. as he is about to drop his towel and get in the water, your head pops up out of the water. your eyes meet, and you both let out surprised yelps.

he clutched his towel tighter as you quickly sink back into the water covering your chest with your arms.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???" you both screech at each other.

oh my god, she's naked. her slick wet body, hot and sudsy from the bath. dear god, this is the last thing i needed right now. fuck, im already getting hard just knowing she's in here.

he quickly turned around, giving you privacy to get out and grab your towel.

his face, beet red and sweating as he stares intently at the wall listening to you scurry out of the bath splashing water onto the floor and dripping onto the tile as you hurry to the bench nearby to wrap yourself in a towel.

"i-im sorry i didn't mean to interrupt you. i didn't think anyone was awake, i can leave if you want." he says quickly, his voice about two octaves higher than it usually is.

"no!!! ahem-no, it's okay i was getting out soon anyway." you say as the shuffle of your towel echos around the room, "i'm covered now, you don't have to keep staring at the paint on the wall now."

you let out a gentle laugh, trying to ease his tension.

he slowly turns around keeping his eyes trained at the floor and his towel tight to his hips, hands in front of his hard cock trying to hide it under the bunchy plush fabric.

slowly he peels his eyes up and meets your face, only to quickly look back down at the floor.

even with your towel on, he could clearly see every gentle curve of your body. your breasts spilling slightly over the top of your towel, the small slit running up your side exposing your upper thigh and the point of your hip. your shoulders still wet and steaming, your entire body glossy and wet. wispy strands of hair cling to your forehead, slicked down around your face, your cheeks were flushed. your looked so soft.

he could feel your gaze on him, his taut, scarred body beaded with water and his hair wet and dripping onto his shoulders.

do you like seeing me like this?

he wondered selfishly.

you moved a step or two closer to him,

"i'm sorry i embarrassed you, i was just having a hard time sleeping so i thought a bath would help me relax. are you okay?" you say, trying to catch his eye.

trying to look up to meet your face again, he replies quietly "i couldn't sleep either so i had the same idea. must be the cicadas i guess. i'm fine, im sorry i interrupted you."

he bows stiffly in apology, still white knuckling the front of his towel to pin down his throbbing erection.

"really, it's okay! no need to apologize! i'll leave you be, i hope it helps you feel sleepy. i'll see you tomorrow!" you said cheerfully.

you gather your belongings, adjusting your towel. to his delight and horror, letting small slivers of your skin peek out as you move.

it was torture. the last thing he wanted was for you to leave, but if you didn't get out he was going to embarrass himself. he wanted to drop to his knees sobbing begging for you to touch him, and if you didn't leave that minute he just might do it. as his eyes followed you out, he squeaked out a weak little "see ya!" he watched as your short towel hiked up the curve of your ass as you walked, your soft shiny thighs rubbing together.

at this point, he might as well throw himself face first into the bath and wait until he drowned because there was no way he was sleeping anymore.

the doors swung shut behind you, leaving him in the ringing silence of the bath house.

he stood there frozen for a few moments, feeling your noticeable absence from the room. it felt like someone sucked the air out of his lungs. you were so close to him, within 5 steps. you were dripping wet and naked 5 steps away from him.

and now you were gone.

he dropped his towel and smacked his hands onto his face letting out a frustrated cry. he hard cock sprang free and smacked his stomach with a heavy thwap!

his hands and feet felt tingly from all the adrenaline of embarrassment. rubbing his eyes and dropping his hands, he sat down on the edge of the water sinking his legs in. it was hot and soothing on his muscles, but the warmth only made his sexual desire worse. the bath you were in just moments ago, empty as he slid the rest of his body in. sinking up to his shoulders, he instinctively grabbed his cock as it throbbed painfully under the water. gently stroking it trying to alleviate the pain, he let out a small whimper.

this is disgusting, i'm pleasuring myself in your bath water. what have you done to me?

he was overtaken by his fantasies, desire ruling his every move.

quick images of your flushed face panting as he bent you over the arm of the bench and fucked you stupid flashed under this eyelids.

he thought about taking you back into the showers and falling to his knees, throwing your leg over his shoulder and eating your sopping wet pussy until you gushed onto his face.

fondling and sucking on your plump round tits, pink and swollen from the hot water.

she just got clean, i want her to come back so i can ruin her.

quietly whining, he leaned his head back on the lip of the pool screwing his eyes shut.

he began to quicken his pace, the waves of movement created by his shoulder began lapping on the edge of the whole bath, radiating away from him.

why did you have to be in here?

he thought to himself, distraught over how exposed you were to him.

he wanted to cry, he wanted you to come back. he needed you to come back to the bath house and touch him. his own hands were rendered worthless to him, they didn't bring him the release he needed so so badly.

tears once again began welling up in his eyes as he furiously beat his dick under the water.

"please, please, please. i need you, please come back. i can't keep doing this alone." he quietly cried to himself, getting closer to cumming with each tearful beg he confessed to the empty bath house.

"please, please-oh fuck, god please yes" he gasped as he came into the water, praying nobody came to use the baths before they got drained at 5am.

exhausted and ashamed of himself, he got out of the water and showered off in the washroom.

this has to be the most pathetic thing i've ever done in my life.

he trudged back to his dorm and collapsed asleep on his bed.

however, this was not the last time he would pleasure himself in such a risky manner.

it got so bad sometimes, he needed to stop training to jerk off in the bathroom. he's catch you on the outskirts of the training field watching him. he would get flustered, wondering if you liked watching him the way he watched you. he saw you carry large buckets of water to the laundry outside, you were so strong.

did you think the same of him ? did you like watching the way he moved ? he was getting faster and more agile by the day, did he impress you ?

all of those questions just brought him back to those dreams he had, those anguished lustful dreams.

would you scratch up my back in ecstasy? would you bite my neck and make me yours?

he would excuse himself from training to hide in a bathroom, now carrying the small bag with your underwear in his pocket, no longer hidden away in his bedside drawer. he would pull them out to hold to his face while he quickly pleasured himself so he could survive his day.

weeks went by, your panties having long lost their scent, at this point being more of a comfort to him than anything else. still, he couldn't cum without them. he slept with them tucked under his pillow, falling asleep with them tangled around his fingers. in a way, you were there with him. he would lay awake wondering what you were doing, fantasizing about you bathing after a long day, brushing your hair before bed, how soft your pajamas would feel against his body as he held you while you slept. he wanted to comfort you if you woke up with nightmares, gently pushing your hair out of your face and telling you that you're safe, you are loved.

loved?

is this love?

he had been so consumed with the shame and guilt over his unending lust for you, he didn't really allow himself to dwell on how he longed for you romantically. he wanted to hold you. he wanted to kiss your forehead, pet your hair. he wanted to comfort you. he wanted to take care of you. he wanted to listen to every word you had to say. he wanted to start a simple mundane life together. maybe someday he will make charcoal again, this time with a family he gets the chance to keep safe.

this wasn't what he had planned, but it was already getting in his way. his perverted nightly rituals eating up his time, sneaking off to the bathroom during the day to furiously masturbate, it was already forcibly making room in his life.

i should talk to her. even if she doesn't feel the same way, maybe telling her will end this. maybe putting it out into the universe will bring me peace.

that night, he decided he'd find you the next day and tell you how he felt.

that morning, he saw you in the dining hall eating breakfast with your friends, as you usually do. you were laughing and nodding along to a story someone was telling- your favorite. he liked to listen too, maybe someday you'd tell him more of your stories. he walked up to you, greeting you with a wave. you smile sweetly and say "good morning tanjiro! did you sleep well?"

"uh yeah, i did. what are your plans for the day? are you busy around lunchtime?"

"well, this morning i have a study group with some friends from my pharmaceutical class, usually i'd work until i was done and eat lunch after but i can break when your training is over. what for?"

"oh nothing important, i just wanted to catch up if you're okay with making the time."he said, looking down at his feet.

you smile again, "i'd always make the time for you." your face quickly reddens and you blurt out "i mean, for anyone really, i am just always so excited to have lunch with my friends."

he smells true embarrassment on you, and he softens. you feel flustered around him, just the same as he does around you. maybe if he tells you, you'd feel the same way. either way, this will bring him peace. it has to.

lunch rolls around and you meet in the corner of the courtyard. 3 large cherry blossom trees are tucked away against the tall fences surrounding the property. the shade feels cool and smells like damp grass. you sit on the wooden bench next to him with your box lunch in hand. you chat for a while, talking about how your days have been and he tells you about the most recent time inosuke acted like a deranged animal in public. you laugh, it feels easy and light. his face grows more serious and he clears his throat.

"honestly, i did have a reason to ask you to spend your lunch with me today. i have something i wanted to tell you, if that's alright."

you grow a bit nervous, what if he's leaving? what if he's sick? whatever it is though, you want to hear it. "okay, yeah go ahead."

he turns to you more deliberately, setting his box lunch on the ground. "i don't know how you'll feel about this, and i don't expect you to feel the same way, but i wanted to tell you anyway. the truth is, i didn't sleep well last night. or the night before. i fell in love with you last year, and it's been growing heavier on me for a while now. you've been taking up space in my mind, keeping me up at night. i thought maybe if i told you i'd finally sleep a little better. i didn't tell you before because i really enjoy your company, and if you thought i only saw you as a pretty face, you wouldn't want to talk to me anymore. but if you'd still allow me to be your friend after knowing how i feel, i would be more than happy to remain friends with you. and even if i don't sleep any better after this, if i still get to call you my friend, i will always be content with that."

he felt like he was lying a little, of course he would be happy to remain her friend, but 'content' was not the case. he would still suffer his anguished, lustful dreams and fitful nights of insatiable neediness, but it wouldn't matter as long as you were still around. he would put up with you haunting his every move if it meant you would still give him your attention.

your face was red and you fidgeted with your ring incessantly, processing what he just told you. you look to his face for reassurance that you don't have to respond yet, and you were met with a look of patience and a soft smile. he didn't mind waiting for you. and he didn't mind your response, whatever it may be.

"i..." you start slowly, "i have felt the same about you, since your second week here. i was crying outside on the porch of the dorms, and you comforted me. i was afraid because my mother was sick at the time, and you held me and made me feel stronger. you asked about her often, and when i told you she got better a few weeks later, you were genuinely happy to hear it as if you knew her yourself. you are ... bright and w-warm and i like being around you. i wat- i notice you training sometimes, and it makes me feel... braver. it can be scary seeing you come back home- back to the mansion, i mean- hurt all the time. but you get stronger every day, so it makes it easier to put away my worry. i... i worry about you when you're gone and i-i.. miss you. i miss you when you aren't here."

he shifts in his seat, rubbing his palms on his thighs, "wow, that's amazing to hear' you are so kind to me but i always thought you were kind to everyone, that it wasn't personal. i can't believe it! if it's okay with you, i want to tell you a little more about my feelings for you." there's hesitation in his voice as he looks to you for permission.

"of course, i'd like to hear your them. id like to hear all of them, actually." you say sheepishly, looking at your lap.

all of them?..

his mind floods with all the perverted fantasies he has for you, every sleepless night spent writhing in sexual frustration, desperately fucking his fist or his sheets or his pillows, rubbing his cock raw trying to push the vile indulgence out of his mind, tortured by thoughts of pleasuring you over and over again.

not that, obviously.

"i-um.. sorry, i got lost for a second there." he shifted in his seat, trying to hide a growing bulge in his pants. "i think you are so kind and warm. you and i are very similar in a lot of ways, we both find beauty and peace in the mundane. like how you enjoy the cool water of the laundry on hot days, and i like watching the sun rise every day. i like it when you are the one to take care of me when im hurt.... i-i miss your touch when you leave." he said, choking out that last bit.

your eyes grow wide, your cheeks flush. he can smell that strange emotion on you again, the one he could never figure out. it was much stronger now than before. it smelled like embarrassment, but there was something else there. it was... urgent, almost.

"you miss me??" you squeak out, looking like you wanted to crawl under the bench and die.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to embarrass you, i shouldn't have shared that" he says grabbing your hand trying to comfort you.

that smell grows stronger as that emotion grows within you, he doesn't know what to do to help calm you down.

"no no, please keep going. i want to hear more, i really really do. please believe me, i am thrilled to know that you miss when i- miss me when im not around." you stumble over yourself, holding his hand just as tightly as he's holding yours.

"okay," he says, scooting a little closer you to you, "but only if you tell me what your feeling right now. you smell like you are embarrassed, but i know that's not quite right. something is wrong, and im worried im overwhelming you."

"i'm not embarrassed, im just a little flustered!! i've had feelings for you for a long time, and your telling me not only do you feel the same way, but thinking of me keeps you up at night. i want to know those thoughts, i want to share my own. i'm just embarrassed of how i feel a little, and i don't want you to think i'm weird or anything."

"why would i think you are weird? i think the world of you, you don't have to worry about any of that. if anything, im worried about the same thing."

"it doesn't matter, im just nervous is all."

that emotion smells warm, and musky, almost like....

his heart begins to beat out of his chest. the small white bag begins burning a hole in his pocket, as he realizes.

you feel that same burning pull of desire that's been driving me insane.

"if you are too nervous, i can stop." he says gently, tilting your face up to meet him. he's leaning in closer, inches away from you. his words are soft, but there's a darkness behind them you can feel.

you meet his eyes, your eyelids low and your breath getting ever so slightly heavier.

"no, please don't.." your eyes flutter shut as you lean in to kiss him. you start small, gently pressing your lips together. he pulls back to admire your face, when he kisses you back with more force. he cups his hand around the back of your neck, letting go of your hand to pull you in by the small of your back. his kiss is passionate and urgent, but he's clearly holding back. he bites back a groan as you bite his lower lip, pulling it into your mouth to suck on it.

you let go, pressing your forehead to his, "can you tell me more about how you feel about me ?"

his mind was racing, he needed more.

your lips were soft and warm and they tasted so good, his cock was throbbing against his waistband. he had so much he wanted to tell you, so many ways he wanted to please you, he had no idea what to say or where to start.

"i can tell you i've wanted to kiss you for a really long time. that day we sat together in early summer, on the bench across the courtyard ? you were showing me your mothers ring and all i could think about was how badly i wanted you to hold my face again, like when i was in the infirmary."

you reach up and cup his face, running your thumb over his bottom lip. his breath catches in his throat, and he begins breathing a little heavier. he leans his face into your hand, pushing into you as if to feel your touch more somehow.

his lips part slightly and he gently bites your thumb.

"i think..." he said, barely above a whisper, "that you have the prettiest hands.."

he takes your hand off his face and places a sloppy kiss on the inside of your wrist, "and i can see how hard they work."

he kisses your wrist again, licking it slightly. "and i can tell you that when i can't sleep, i am kept up over thoughts of how.... to please you."

it was too much. your thighs were clenched so tight, you were so wet it was smearing down your legs and you couldn't stand not being closer to him. you jumped up from your spot on the bench, startling him. you grab his wrist and drag him away, hurriedly saying '

"come with me, please. we gotta go somewhere else."

you drag him into the dorm hall, down the caretaker hall. you throw open your bedroom door, it slides into the wall with a loud thunk. you turn to him in a puff, "do you want to come in? with me, i mean?"

without hesitation he steps in behind you and says "absolutely."

he grabs your face and kisses you hard, exploring your mouth with his tongue. he hooks his hands down under your knees and lifts you up. as you hook your ankles around his waist he lets out a stifled moan, feeling your body on his was like sticking his fingers in an outlet. he had punished his cock endlessly over daydreams like this, and here he was, sinking onto the edge of your bed with you in his lap.

his mouth leaves yours, and begins leaving urgent, red marks down your neck. you slowly start grinding on him, and he's fighting back whimpers and moans. it's perfect. it's everything. he needs more. he reaches for your collar and tugs on it, whispering in your ear "may i?"

you nod, softly moaning as he continues kissing, licking and biting your neck from your earlobe to your collarbone. he begins unbuttoning your jacket and peeling it off you.

your thin, white undershirt. this is heaven.

he slips his hands under the hem, feeling your stomach, your back, stopping right at the curve of your breasts. "can i- touch you- more please ?" he says desperately between kisses.

"god, please" you say breathlessly.

he lifts your shirt up over your head, stopping to admire your body. "you are even more beautiful than i imagined" he said as he began squeezing and sucking on your chest.

you cry out in pleasure and quickly slap your hand over your mouth. "you-ahh fuck- you thought of m-me like this ?" you whisper, already knowing answer.

"what do you think has been keeping me up at night ? you haunt me, my love. i am tortured by the thought of pleasing you."

he lifts you up and gently tosses you onto your bed. he grabs you hands, lacing his fingers between yours and holding you hands above your head. he kisses you, sloppy and desperate to taste more of you.

more.

more.

more.

it's all he can think of.

his strong, muscular body is sprawled out between your legs. he pulls himself up until he can grind his cock into you.

soon, the friction from his pants is too much. he pulls away, asking if he can take his clothes off. "can i take them off for you?" you ask shyly.

he smiles and lifts his arms. you peel off his shirt, and you are still enthralled by his beauty. you've seen him topless plenty of times, between spying on him during training and treating his wounds in the infirmary, you've seen enough of his body to make anyone blush.

but never like this.

never in the hushed frenzy of hands and tongues in your room.

you trace the scar on his hip, a sad look flashes over your face. he notices and grabs your hand, he places it flat on his stomach. "i'm okay now, don't worry. i remember, im better now because of you."

he peels off your pants, leaving behind your underwear. he does the same for himself, leaving behind his. he lays back on top of you and begins kissing down your neck again, down to your chest, but this time not stopping there. he drags long stripes with his tongue down between the valley of your chest, biting and kissing your stomach on the way down. it's every fantasy he'd had about you all crashing into him right now. he was so hard it hurt but he ignored it.

this wasn't something he wanted to push away or rush through.

he had spent months agonizing over every little detail, every way he wanted to please you. he was going to do all of it. he stopped at your underwear and sat up, lifting your thigh to his mouth kissing and licking down it until he reached your ankle. he wanted to worship your body, the body that works so hard to keep the mansion running, the body that houses the girl he loves. he drops your leg and sinks back down to the hem of your underwear, hooking his fingers around them on your hips. "can i take these off?" he said quietly with heavy eyelids.

"y-yes please. i need you too." you whispered in response, lifting your hips to help him get them off faster.

he pulled them between his teeth, his breath tickling your stomach, causing more butterflies to erupt inside you. he slipped them down to your knees with his teeth, then tossing them aside with them hooked around his finger in one fluid motion. sticky strands of your wetness cling to the fabric, smearing on your thighs as he pulled them off. he cleaned you up quickly, licking the wet spots down your thighs.

this is so much better than sucking on her panties.

unconsciously palming his throbbing cock through his underwear. he leans his cheek on your thigh looking down at your dripping pussy. "god, your even more beautiful than i imagined you were. look at her, your pretty pussy" he says as he lays back down, kissing from your belly button until just above your clit.

squirming and writhing with impatience, you whimper out a small "please, tanjiro."

your eyes meet.

that was all he needed, the last straw.

he dove in hungrily, sucking and slurping your dripping wet pussy, burying his face into you. you let out a gasp, clamping your hand over your mouth as you let out a deep groan from the bottom of your stomach.

he reaches up to pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers, he just started but you already feel close.

so much anticipation, so many times you've watched him train, watched his rippling sweaty body in the sunlight- trapping those thoughts for later when you'd rush into your dorm after a bath and play with your pussy until you were too exhausted to continue.

that night he found you in the bath house kept you awake for hours after.

you look down at him, his deep red eyes staring up at you full of lust, something so dark behind them. he plunged his tongue into you so deeply, fucking you and slurping on your gushing wet pussy. "c-can i tell you something ?" you gasp out breathlessly trying not to scream from the pleasure.

"of course-you can" he replied between thick wet kisses on your clit.

he eased up, gently nibbling and sucking on it so you could respond easier.

"i touch myself almost every night thinking about you in my room like this. i- i even stole one of your shirts from the laundry once just so i c-could have you closer while i did it." you let out a raspy moan as he sucked harder.

he let go and sat up for a moment, eyes darkening. a smile creeps up his face as he asks, "can i tell you something then ?"

you whined at the lack of stimulation, but nodded softly.

"you dropped your panties in the hallway around a month ago. i wanted to give them back, i really did. but i couldn't. i punished my body with them for weeks, soon i couldn't finish without them in my mouth or on my face. they are in my pants pocket right now."

he shifted up to look at you easier, and smiled wickedly," i've been carrying them around for 13 days now."

your eyes grow wide, as it dawns on you. all those sweet, innocent interactions.

all those pleasantries and small lingering stares, the whole time he had your dirty, soiled underwear in his pocket.

he stuffed them in his mouth when he came.

he was a panty sniffing creep, and he was all for you.

you grab his face and pull him up, crashing into him. his face covered in your slick, creating a sloppy wet kiss.

you accepted him, not only that, you seemed elated at the idea that he stole your underwear, forcing himself to cum over and over with them. god, you were everything he could've ever wanted.

"hold on, hold on, im not done. let me keep going for a little while longer. please, i need to." he whispered into your lips.

you nod, as he sunk back down to gently place a kiss on your clit. but that gentleness didn't last long, he quickly became consumed by you again. the smell of your pretty pussy had filled the room the minute he took your pants off, the lust emanating off your body was palpable in the air. he was devouring you viciously, his eyes darkened and hazy.

he was unconsciously grinding against your mattress, moaning into your pussy.

"you taste- so fucking good. god i love it" he mumbled into your soft wet lips.

you began to feel your orgasm coming on, and quickly. 'ahh-fuck, wait- slow down- i'm gonna-'

"say it."

"i'm gonna cum! fuck-i'm gonna cum tanjiro!" your whole body grinding into his face, as he pushed his jaw into your wet throbbing pussy.

he growled and gripped your thighs tighter, pulling himself even deeper into you. one of your hands smacked over your mouth to keep you from screaming, the other laced it's way into his long dark hair, gripping it and using it to twist his tongue around on you. you gush onto his face, panting and moaning into your hand. he shudders and groans, over and over saying "mhm, mhm~" encouraging you to use him.

your stiff, shaking legs relax as you come down, slumping back onto the pillows.

he slows down with you, matching your body language. he pulls off you, placing gentle yet firm kisses on your clit, helping you ride out the end of your orgasm.

"thank you." he says, his eyes still dark and low.

you blush and hide your face in your hands, "i don't know what your thanking me for."

"for letting me please you. it's all i want to do. i want to worship you until my body breaks down. i want to satisfy every craving you have. can i keep going?" he says, as he places long sloppy kisses on your thigh, leaving red marks up and down them.

"yes please, i still need so much from you" you reply breathlessly.

he dips back down and begins sucking on your clit again, but this time he brings one of his hands around and gently rubs your lips with his fingers. he spreads you open and slowly starts sinking one of his fingers into you. just that small amount of stretch felt so good, you felt yourself clench around him, your body desperate for more of him. he groaned into your pussy, muttering something like "fuck, you're pulling me in~" but it was hard to hear over your own raspy moans and whimpers.

he pulled out his finger to add a second one, stretching you further. his fingers felt large, and rough, worn from battle. he began slowly pumping them in an out, noticing how your moans would get higher and quicker the more he ran his fingers over that nub of flesh inside you.

"ahh-fuck, oh my god' you cried, 'it's so much, fuck it feels too good. please, faster, im gonna cum!!"

he sucked harder on your clit, pushing his jaw into you again while pumping in and out of your dripping wet pussy. you were clenching and throbbing around him, sucking his fingers back in. he was shuddering and grinding into the bed again, desperately trying to hold back cumming himself.

you cried out, calling his name over and over as you came on his face and hands, you squirted all over his fingers, gushing down his jaw and neck.

god, you made such a fucking mess.

he rides it out with you, easing up and slowly pulling his fingers out of you.

sitting up, he sticks his finger into his mouth sucking them and licking his hands down to his wrists, cleaning himself off. he wipes his face with his hand, and reaches into his pants to smear your cum all over his cock.

the air was thick and heady, his head swimming from all the pleasure in the air.

on his knees, he looked down at you pleasuring himself. the wet spot in his underwear growing as he touched himself. his eyebrows scrunched, and his jaw hanging open, he let out small guttural moans. he fell down onto you, propping himself up over your face his long hair hanging around you as he continued stroking his cock inside his underwear. "please.... can i take them off? can i please fuck you?" he begs, never taking his eyes off your face.

you hook your fingers around his underwear and pull them down enough to let his cock spring free. it was red and twitching and angry desperate to be inside you. you grab his hips and roughly pull him down onto you, the hilt of his cock wetly slapping onto your pussy with a squelch. "please fuck me, i have needed you for so long." you whisper as you grab his face and kiss him deeply, as if he had been gone for days.

his breath catches in his throat as his cock finally makes contact with you for the first time. without thinking, he began grinding into you, thick wet sounds reverberated around the room. you were so wet, so covered in cum that his cock glided so easily on you. he could've cum from this alone, but he couldn't. he was so close to getting what he needed, he had to hold back. he hooked his arm under your back and pulled you closer. he moved from your lips to your neck, sucking on your earlobe, gasping and moaning in your ear. "c-can you put me inside you? if i watch im going to cum. i-hah fuck- i need you to do it." he said through gritted teeth.

you reach down between the two of you and grab his cock. he stifles a moan as you give it a few cautionary strokes, before rubbing the tip between your lips to gather some of your wet cum. you angle it into yourself, and grab his hips to slowly push him into you. his eyes shoot open and lock with yours, letting out a loud "ohhhh fuuccckkkkk~" as his eyes roll back a little and his jaw hangs open.

you keep going, whimpering as it stretches you out. you reach the base of his long, thick cock, the red puffs of hair tickling your clit. you grind down onto him, slowly rocking your hips back and forth trying to get used to it. he's frozen, choking on his own moans trying to comprehend what he's feeling.

it's exactly what he thought it would be.

no, it's so much better.

all those nights spent fucking his pillows like a creep, when just one hall over the sweetest, tightest, wettest, prettiest pussy was getting fingered and played with to the thought of him. it was almost cruel, realizing that as your pussy clenched tightly around him, he could've had it sooner.

he slowly started rolling his hips with you, every bit of friction on his cock, every throb of your pussy felt like overstimulation. he needed it so badly for so long, now that he had it, it's overwhelming. he pushes past the urge to cum and begins pumping long, slow, deep strokes into you. every time he bottoms out and feels your cervix around the head of his cock, you both moan in unision. you were both breaking down under the weight of your lust for each other.

"fuck, your cock feels so amazing. it's better than i thought it would be!!" you cry out, tears welling up in your eyes.

your praise goes straight down to his cock. looking down at you crying over the pleasure he could give you, it was crippling. his elbows buckle, no longer able to hold himself up to watch you bounce under him. he wraps his other arm that's not under you around the back of your neck and starts biting into your shoulder "god, your-fuckfuck ahh- your pussy is p-perfect, you keep sucking me back in. it's so wet and tight, i can't take it!! it's-god, fuck- it's too good!!" he wells with tears too, you are both so overcome with pleasure you are crying and clawing at each other.

you leave thick red scratches down his back as he continues to fuck you hard and slow, leaving bite marks and dark purple hickeys all over your neck. you drool into his shoulder unable to speak, mumbling and moaning loosely about how good it feels, how badly you need his cum, how you dreamed of him fucking you like this.

but with every sound you make, he gets closer and closer to cumming inside your sweet little pussy. he begins to fuck you faster and harder, drilling his hips into you as he sits up and spreads your thighs open for him. his face looks angry and dark as he tries desperately not to cum. "oh my god, yes-fuck!!! i'm gonna cum, tanjiro!!! im gonna cum on your cock please keep going!!!"

thank god, he thought. he was not going to be able to keep this up much longer but he had to make you cum before he did. your bouncing tits and your slack jawed, fucked out face was making it so much harder for him to keep up. he looked down at the mess you were making on him, your wet slick running all the way up to just under his belly button, matting down his happy trail, and dripping down his balls. there was a creamy ring of your cum all over the hilt of his cock. every wet smack and squelch of your tight little pussy was ruining him. he felt you begin to shake and clench around him, sucking him in even harder. your pussy was milking his cock for cum and it was too much.

you both crash into each other in a tangle of limbs and guttural, animalistic groans as you both cum so hard you are seeing stars. you squirt all down the length of his cock, splashing up onto both of your stomachs as he cums deep into your pussy. you feel the throb of his cock as it pumps deep against your cervix as you clench around him, milking him for more.

he whimpers and drools against your shoulder as he comes down, you shudder and weakly grind your clit against him as you fuck the last of your high off. you both lay there in the sticky mess you made, just breathing in each other for a while.

he pulls you in tight, holding you close against him. "i meant what i said, i fell in love with you. i fell in love with your kindness, your serenity. you are a blue spring, you radiate a warmth that i don't think i've gotten to know since i was a child. i love you, i wasn't just saying it."

you push him off a bit so you could see his face, and cup your hands around his jaw. "i know, and i love you too. i'll always be here to take care of you."

he slowly pulls his half-hard cock out of you, watching his cum spill out onto the bed around you. he gets up pulls a towel from your closet. he cleans you off and lays down next to you, lightly tracing circles on your stomach.

"so, what do you think our excuse should be for never coming back from lunch ?"

☆♡☆★♡☆★♡☆★♡☆

part two here

(authors note #2: this was my first fic!! weeeeeee!!! if u liked it and u want a follow up kinda diving into the start of their relationship please let me know <333 thank u for reading!! byeeeeee<33☆)

[owuwi]

LOTTIE MATTHEWS.ᐟ

➤ lottie matthews x gn!reader

.ᐣ her attempt of helping the group perhaps wasn't the most adequate one.

⤷ cw: yellowjackets s3 ep7 spoilers, mentions of blood and brain.

──────────────────────

it all happened way too fast.

you got lost in the crackling sound of the fire, the air lightly buzzing in your ears—creating a haze in your mind—. your body moved on its own, wild chants leaving your lips without a doubt in the world. if it wasn't for lottie's scream, you wouldn't had even noticed their presence.

if she said they didn't belong there—that it didn't want them there—, then it must've been true.

though, was nailing an axe through his head necessary?

lottie didn't understand the other girls, didn't understand why they believed at times and then suddenly didn't. for her, the wilderness was real, it was real, and it wasn't something she could simply ignore. even when she felt like it didn't want her anymore, didn't need her, deep down she knew she would never lose that connection they had.

as the man fell down to his knees, shakily pulling the axe out of his cranium, lottie was oh so proud of herself. her gaze immediately found yours in the midst of the girls' reactions, hoping to see you proud of her; so the look of horror in your face wasn't what she expected.

when everyone left to pursue the woman and the armed-man, you stood there—terrified, eyes darting between melissa's injured form and lottie's confused one.

you knew lottie was going to need you the moment you saw her kneeling down next to the dead body, yet you still chose to go with the others and ran after the unknown visitors.

the last thing you saw before disappearing into the woods was your girlfriend tenderly caressing the man's bloodied head, covering herself with his warm blood and spreading the crimson-red liquid all over her face.

your body ached as you ran, your head fuzzy and filled with concern for her. you were already aware of how everyone would react to seeing her like that; how they would judge her, calling her fucking crazy for doing what it wanted—because they would immediately stop believing in the wilderness after witnessing the way lottie acted.

you couldn't justify her acts because you weren't like her, you didn't understand it. the wilderness was a belief you took as a coping mechanism, to have an answer to all the questions you had 24/7. lottie could tell you were strong, could tell you could have a bond with it if you truly wanted to, but you didn't have the heart to tell her you didn't think like she did.

shamelessly, you couldn't help but blame her schizophrenia at times for the changes she suffered.

as the sun came up, you and the rest of the team found your way back to camp, though with the addition of someone new.

the way lottie's sun-kissed skin was coated with dry blood made your stomach churn. her whole face—even her mouth—was painted, your body trembled as you noticed chunks of brain in her hair and clothes.

no one mentioned anything—not even when standing right in front of her—, but you could tell she wasn't as content as she was when you last saw her.

after hannah introduced herself, you took some steps closer to your girlfriend and hesitantly grabbed her hand. "c'mon, lott, let's get you cleaned up." you said as you slowly began walking towards the lake, your heart clenching as lottie tried to complain before ultimately following you.

"you understand it, right?" she broke the odd silent as the two of you sat down on some rocks by the lake, her voice quivering faintly as she stared at you. "it needed to be done." she then added.

you dipped your hand into the cold-ish water before delicately wiping away the blood from the girl's face. "mhm... o-of course." you replied some moments later, trying your best to hide how badly you wanted to throw up.

she softly placed her hands on your lap—not caring about staining you—and closed her eyes as you continued. "it will all get better, don't worry about it..." she murmured before leaning in, placing a little kiss to your dry lips—once again, not caring about staining you—.

[angelbarelywritesslashers]

♡ lay all your love on me (leather and lace part ii) | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; second person pov + gender neutral language where possible w/ afab genital descriptors. reader wearing a dress from part one.

♡cw; still a stockholm syndrome ass relationship, age gap ? (thomas is in his late thirties iirc), explicit content, lil bit of blood, oral (on v)

♡notes; technically part two to this but works on its own too!

it ended up a pretty short fic but i was struggling with getting more on the page for way too long. i like what we have at least :v

still in a 70s/80s music mood thus the abba title

uhhh no promise on a part 3 but maybe? if i can get over this writers block

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Thomas locked the door, checking out the window once, then twice to make sure no one was around. The shed was dim and dusty but had plenty of room, even with the work table taking up a good chunk. There were worse places to be doing this…none that immediately came to mind, but you weren’t going to be picky. You leaned against the wall with a hum, watching him put a chair against the door for good measure.

You couldn’t help a soft chuckle watching him fret and he perked up; almost as if he forgot you were there with him. He slowly approached, staring down at you intently and cupping your cheek. You leaned into his touch with a hum, looking up at him through your lashes “Cmere?” You pulled him down, eagerly kissing him as soon as he stooped low enough.

He growled softly- not a warning but eagerness, hand tangling in your hair and getting a good grip. You gave a soft purr as he lightly tugged, then a moan as he bit your lip. He swiped his tongue against it to taste the blood he drew, breathing heavily. It felt wrong. He was a stranger - he was older- god he was a murderer. But you didn’t care. Even if it was wrong, you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach as his free hand trailed down your side, to your hip and tracing towards the lacy hem of your dress.

You pulled away slightly-thankful that he let you and gave a quiet hum “Tommy? I’ve never actually- I’ve only ever-“ You squeaked as he dropped to his knees in front of you without hesitation, dark eyes never leaving yours. Even before you like that he made you feel tiny, his head coming to your stomach - hell nearly to your chest. He pushed the skirt of your dress up with a grunt, before seeming to get annoyed and peeling it off you completely.

You weren’t sure if it was cold or the way Thomas stared at your newly exposed flesh that made you shudder, but you didn’t have long to think. He quickly pushed his head between your thighs, licking you oh-so- slowly through your panties. “Oh my god-“ You whimpered, knees wobbling at the first touch. He quickly tugged the thin garment off and pulled your leg over his shoulder, leaving you more exposed than ever but at least a bit more steady.

He stared at your cunt a long moment, almost drooling before he practically buried his face between your legs, lapping like a man starved. You were thankful the gasp you let out was so high pitched it was nearly silent, clamping a hand over your mouth as he found your clit. You weren’t sure if he’d done this before or if you were just that fucking touch starved, but it felt good.

“O-oh my god- Tommy- it’s too much—too much-“ You mewled out after what seemed like an embarrassingly short time, grabbing at his hair. You knew from long, lonely nights with your hands tucked into your panties you were close, breathing coming out in short gasps.

He gave a low, possessive growl and pulled you against him so there was no chance of arching away. His eyes bore into yours as he hit just the right spot again- there, right there and-

You cried out sharply as you saw stars, legs going out completely. Your hands had absolutely nothing on the man still between your legs, keeping you from falling. Thomas licked his lips, mask glistening from your slick. God it looked dirty…you quite liked it.

You gave a bratty little whimper as he stood back up, kissing you sloppily and making sure you tasted yourself on his tongue. “We all done?” You teased softly as he pulled away.

He gave a soft grunt and stood, the bulge in his pants quite evident- but he moved the chair from the door and nudged you out of the shed. Still jelly legged and flushed you found it hard to focus “Oh- Tommy-“ You began to protest.

He pulled you to sit again, this time on his lap- and no sooner than he did his mother crested the hill, on her way back to see the two of you.

“…oh. I owe you one.” You giggled softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He grunted and shifted you in his lap- letting you feel how huge he was. You had a feeling he would definitely hold you to that…

[annievrse]

types of kisses

multiple bsd x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb includes: dazai, chuuya, fyodor, ango c/w: suggestive content: chuuya & ango [mdni], fyodor calls reader dorogaya, dazai calls reader bella. a/n: oh em geee fifth post this week??? no ok ngl i'm feeding u before i lock in for my last semester :o surprise!!

DAZAI —ᡣ𐭩 you're so pretty kisses

"don't look."

"can't," dazai says, and you shake your head at the dismissal of your joke. he has a blindfold on, so you'd expect him to be a little suspicious and, by extension, unwilling to participate in your dumb antics.

the setting sun blankets dazai in a warm orange, making his skin glow and his hair the colour of rich chocolate. you're sitting on the floor, facing him, when you fumble with the ribbon as you glance at him. you've always known his beauty despite his distaste for such compliments.

once the baby pink satin is tied, you push onto your knees and waddle over to him.

you bump into him slightly, and he cowers away, hands up in front of his face. "what was that?"

"me, idiot. now be still."

dazai sighs loudly before relaxing, though his shoulders are still near his ears when he feels you pick up a chunk of his hair.

"you're not cutting it off, are you?"

you scoff, tying the hairband that holds the bow around the brown strands. "i would die if you cut your hair."

dazai nods. "good to know."

rolling your eyes and huffing in faux annoyance, you finish tying off the band and lean back to get a better look. you make a sound close to a squeal after you position it and then sit back down. you're basically bouncing with excitement.

"and... open!"

dazai rips the blindfold off with lightning speed, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "what did you do to me?"

tilting your head, you giggle. "nothing."

dazai looks to the ceiling before standing. he makes a beeline for the bathroom, and when he gets there, he groans.

you cheer when he returns to the living room. "you look so handsome!"

dazai's eyes widen, and his cheeks turn pink, his gaze everywhere but on you. "shut up."

you beckon him over to sit back where he was previously, the light a deeper amber than before. you stare at him; if this were a cartoon, you'd have hearts for eyes. he looks exquisite.

"stop looking at me like that, it's creepy."

"baby, you look so pretty."

dazai shakes his head. "you're the pretty one here, bella."

you lean forward and press your lips against his forehead. "my pretty baby."

dazai scoffs, but it's weak. you get back up on your knees and wrap your arms around his head, kissing the top of his head. his large hands grab your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. you lift his chin with your fingers and smile widely.

kissing his lips, you feel dazai relax under you. pulling back slightly, you press your lips to both his cheeks, forehead, temples, and nose. he scrunches his face, and a laugh escapes him, the sound calming your racing heart.

"you're the prettiest ever, osamu." you know he'll never see himself the same way, but you'll continue to tell him for eternity.

dazai sighs and nods. with his hand on the back of your neck, he pulls your face down to his. "whatever you say, bella."

CHUUYA —ᡣ𐭩 angry kisses

"—fuck," chuuya chokes out when you shove him against the wall. your fingers are twisted in the fabric of his dress shirt, his coat and vest strewn across his office.

"you said you'd come back uninjured," you say, and the grip chuuya has on your hips tightens. you bring his mouth back to yours, the kiss is hard and hungry as you pin him still as best you can with your pelvis.

chuuya pulls away slightly, his breath heavy and warm against your nose. "you think i go into things planning to get hurt? dumbass."

you furrow your eyebrows at his snarky response, but you're caught off guard when he flips you around, your shoulder blades hitting the wall. you glare at him, but your gaze hardly holds the malice you intend.

chuuya's eyes flicker between yours, and his fingers soften against your waist. your hands slowly unravel from his shirt, and you exhale softly, running your palms up his chest.

"i hate seeing you hurt," you whisper.

chuuya sighs and kisses your cheek. "i know. but i can't help it if some idiot shoots me."

your breaths mingle between you, and you finally acknowledge how swollen his lips are. you run your thumb over his bottom lip and watch it bounce back. your face warms smugly.

"i'm sorry, okay?" chuuya mumbles bitterly, but you see through his attitude. you smile and card your fingers through his hair.

"good."

slowly, the fire returns to his irises. "good?"

you nod, eyebrow raised. "you wanna go again, big boy?"

a sound comes from deep in his throat before chuuya steps back, detaching himself from you completely. he tilts his head and looks you up and down, and you pull at your clothes to straighten them out.

"don't get shy now, doll," chuuya smirks, pulling his bolo tie from his neck. "the fun's only just beginning, no?"

FYODOR —ᡣ𐭩 hello kisses

the front door of the safe house clicks shut silently, but you hear it from your spot in the living room anyway.

fyodor told you he'd be home in two months. it's only been one and a quarter, and this is the first you've heard the main door open. fear clutches your stomach and you shakily stand from the lounge.

"fedya?"

you try to steady your voice, but being alone, you feel helpless. taking one step toward the side table, you snatch the candle stand—it's better than nothing, but only if the intruder is human.

shuffling continues out of sight, and you tip-toe to peek around the corner. being stuck in this house has you reading countless novels, many horror. and it's a well known fact that the person who investigates first always dies, but here you are, feeling (almost) unstoppable with your brass weapon and a dream.

"dorogaya?" the familiar drawl has you dropping the candle holder, the clang of it against the wood floors deaf on your ears.

you laugh in shock as you rush toward fyodor. his cheeks are pink, but you believe it's because of you and not the winter wind outside.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. your breathless voice makes him shiver. fyodor laughs deeply, and his arms circle your waist, quickly picking you up. you bury your face in his neck, holding onto the feel of him so warm and familiar.

"mission finished early; had to see you before the next one."

he spins you around before placing you back down. you blink away tears and curse when one slips, but fyodor's there to wipe it away with his gloveless thumb. nudging his hand away, you push up on your toes to kiss him, your hands in his hair while his fingers press into your cheeks.

the house is silent around you, but you can't stop smiling, and fyodor's face displays the first genuine grin he's had in months. he pulls you closer to him, his heart rate slightly higher than usual. "hello, dorogaya."

you choke out a laugh amidst the onslaught of tears that decided to break past your waterlines, and the sound is music to his ears. "hi, fedya."

ANGO —ᡣ𐭩 heated kisses

"i have to get back to work."

you roll your eyes and pull ango closer by the lapels of his jacket. your lips explore his jaw, and his fingers desperately clutch the fabric of your coat.

"baby, please shut up," you say, pressing your lips to his. he groans into your mouth and sticks his knee between your legs; the feeling has you stuttering against him. pulling away to look down at where you rest on his thigh, ango throws his head back against the wall. you take it as an opportunity to press kisses down the column of his throat.

a strangled whine leaves his lips, the sound making your stomach flip. you push his jacket over his shoulders, and he does little to contest. when you lean back to glance at him quickly, ango has his eyes screwed shut.

you giggle breathlessly and whisper his name.

ango looks at you lazily before dragging his eyes to his wrist, where you know he's checking the time. the storage closet you pulled him into is unlike anything you've done with him before, but it didn't take long for him to warm up to the idea despite his usually stern nature.

"we have loads of time," you run your hands down his torso toward his belt. you can tell ango wants to disagree, but when you kiss him again, he turns to putty.

pushing his glasses over his hair, you continue your attack on his mouth, nibbling and nipping at his bottom lip. ango gathers you in his arms, pulling you higher on his leg and pressing your chest against his.

you pull your face half an inch away from his, panting, and swallow. his dark eyes follow your throat bobbing, and his tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth.

"god, i don't think i can go back to work." you giggle against his mouth and nod in agreeance, feeling the obvious bulge in his pants.

"be quick," ango mumbles, his chest heaving. he looks otherworldly when he's drunk on you. his hands slide up to your neck, and before you can do anything, ango presses a dizzying kiss on your lips.

"nevermind, we're going home."

[o-chunks-appreciation]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPM ON THE WII!! It’s o Chunks birthday :^3

Tornado sirens went off while typing that, uhhhh hrm

[undefinedsoup]

i drew o'chunks on an old walmart receipt (because i can)

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 8

content warning: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, some mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI, thigh riding 😙, thigh fucking 🤪, public indecency??? exhibitionism???, katoptronophilia aka mirror sexy time (thanks for the word jelly 🪼), just overall a really good time

word count: 4.4k, not proofread (we're only gearing up to what I assume will be another giant chapter 😷)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who does some sets of push-ups, sit-ups, and leg raises in place of the gym. You watch him while you wait for room service, encouraging him from the side. Your presence was especially needed during the sit-ups when you sit at his feet, holding them down and giving him kisses when sits up.

GymRat!Miguel who sings loudly in the shower after his workout. You have to answer the door with an apology as the server laughs at Miguel belting out Britany Spears.

GymRat!Miguel who finally decides to respond to his texts. He’s had enough time to cool off and your presence was like a calm breeze, kissing away at his skin.

He discards his empty plate, placing it back on the cart. You’re still chewing away at some fluffy pancakes, enjoying the views of the high-rise hotel as the default channel played soft jazz.

GymRat!Miguel who lays in your lap while you eat some fruit. He has his phone in his hands ready to type, but he opens his mouth, silently begging for you to feed him grapes and pineapple chunks.

He hums to himself happily when you comply, combing a hand through his hair. He felt so peaceful like this. Serene.

GymRat!Miguel who sighs as he opens the message app. Here we go.

Abuela 💕:

“Abuela I’ll call you tonight”

“And there will be no babies. Not now”

“There better not be!”

Pa:

“Gracias pa”

“I’m glad you were able to meet her”

“She means a lot to me”

“I can tell”

“Mijo you pack a big punch!”

“Uno más!!!”

“You got that from me 👍🏽”

“Sure did pa 😭”

Gabri 🤡🤏🏽:

“You’re such an instigator”

“It’s not instigating. It’s reporting 😌”

“‘It’s reporting ☝🏽🥸’”

“Shaddap”

“You think I’m letting a member of the robotics team bully me?”

“You have perfect pitch and play the saxophone”

“You’re not winning this battle”

“Aren’t you supposed to be entertaining my girl? 🤨”

“Direct this clown act to her”

“Not sure how she puts up with it but I’ll free her soon”

“Stfu”

“A real man would be doing OTHER things but I digress”

“Did you really have to send a pic”

“You hate me”

“It’s clear to me now”

“Anyway what’s this about Tyler punching things”

“OHHHHH”

“He got him good”

“Square in the face”

“A bloody mouth to match his nose”

“TWINEM”

“Good”

"Pa said he granted me the ability to punch"

“He can dream on about that”

“Because where tf is my strength 😒”

"He punched Tyler before"

"Your time will be soon"

"😕"

"Also Ik about Nancy cheating already"

"Tyler told me in high school"

"I didn't want to be the one to tell Kron"

"Ur better than me"

"I would have told him that after that punch"

"YOUR MOM IS A HOMEWRECKER!"

"That's not what that means but ok"

Dana:

“Does your bf know you’re lusting after others?”

“Not if you don’t tell 😙”

“….I don’t think I want to give you her number”

“You’re perfect for Gabri”

“You’re both unbearable”

“What’s unbearable is I’m not talking to your gf rn”

“It’s too many O’Haras”

“Too much testosterone”

“SAVE ME MIG’S GF”

“MIG’S GF SAVE ME!!!”

Dad….Tyler:

“It’s ok. For what it’s worth, I can tell that you had good intentions.”

“Gabri told me what happened”

“I apologize for acting out of order and punching your son, but I couldn’t let him disrespect my girlfriend and my mom. No matter how difficult she may be, I’m the one who should tell her about it. Not him.”

"I completely understand that. You did what you thought was right, and that's far more admirable than what Kron did."

"In another reality, you and Kron could get along. For now, I will aim for cordial. I will make sure that he apologizes to you, your girlfriend, and Conchata."

"I don't want an apology if it's not genuine."

"Let's move on from that. You said you wanted to make it up to me? I saw that you added more dates to the hotel. Thank you for that, you didn't have to."

"Yes! If you are willing, I would love for you and your girlfriend to meet with me. I actually arranged something for you, Gabriel, and your girlfriends. I want to hear your input before I finalize the details."

"Sure thing. Is this afternoon ok?"

"That's perfect. I'll see you then."

Ma:

Read: 11:10 AM ✓✓

“Ugh,” Miguel groans, shutting his phone off and closing his eyes.

You stop rubbing his hair and look down, “What’s wrong?”

Miguel grunts as he moves your hand to continue, “My mom wants me to come home. Not sure if I want to do that right now. Not unless I know she’s ready to be accountable for once, which I highly doubt.”

You hum in understanding, “She’s still your mom, though. You’ll have to see her eventually.”

“My mom or not, she had no right to talk to you the way she did,” Miguel said reaching his hand up to your face. “It was cruel and…strange coming towards you. She doesn’t know you. Not yet, anyway.”

It’s not like she was trying to know you, either. Miguel seemed to understand this in your silence.

“I have to go grab some clothes so she might just get her wish,” Miguel says, turning his head towards your stomach.

You look down at him, “You don’t have to. Today is my last day here.”

“Well, lucky for us, Tyler extended the stay for a few more days,” he grinned. He started to move your shirt to fondle your skin.

Your stomach twitched as his breath brushed your skin. He started to kiss along your front, head disappearing under your sweater. He hummed as he started to tug at your underwear with his teeth.

“Hey,” you say, watching his head moving around through the material. “Stop that and finish talking.”

You pulled your sweater up to reveal him, his teeth still holding the band of your panties and eyes like a cat that got caught.

He let the band go close to your stomach so it wouldn’t snap, “This visual is making me forget everything.” His eyes are heavy and wandering.

You look to where he’s looking to see that you’re essentially flashing him.

You drop your shirt in embarrassment, letting out a sound of panic.

“No, no, baby let me see.”

“No, you’re at such a weird angle.”

“All art must be viewed up close and personal.”

Miguel sat up from your lap. He watched as you huffed and pinched the neckline of your sweater, moving it for air.

"You're so confident from afar, but when I'm near you like this, you get so shy. Even in public, you can be so bold. It's just you and me here."

"It's just," you watch Miguel as he crowds your space. His mouth goes behind your ear to press his lips into your skin. "I don't know. It feels like...more when it's just us. More real."

"Does it not feel real when we're in public?"

Miguel sits back, eyes wondering to yours. There's a pinch in his eyebrows, so faint you almost miss it.

"It does! That's not what I mean."

"Then, what is it? Tell me. Talk to me."

"I want to do more with you."

"But?" Miguel holds your hands in his, stopping you from picking at the loose threads of the sweater. He rubs them with his thumbs, itching to pull you closer.

"But, when you look at me like that, I feel like I could pass out. I get overwhelmed and nervous. I don't want to say or do anything stupid. It gets harder to control myself. I feel crazy."

Oh.

Oh.

"Then there are moments when my brain fools me into thinking that you don't like me in the way that I like you. Moments when that girl from not so long ago comes back, ashamed of herself and her body. A small part of me that thinks you could date anyone else and you're settling."

Miguel takes a moment to process your words.

He takes a breath, then opens his mouth.

"You really don't understand how much you affect me, do you?"

Miguel pulled you in his lap, fed up with this charade.

You grip his shoulders, steadying your balance with how fast he grabbed you.

"Miguel-"

"I don't know everything that your last boyfriend did to you and I don't know everything that you've experienced because of your body. Baby, I don't even know what you've seen all this time to make you think you're not worthy of love and respect, but I'm here to squash it."

"I meant it when I said that I love you. I'll learn it in a hundred languages just to remind you. I'll even tattoo it on my forehead for you to be reminded of it every single time you see me."

"I don't think you need to go that far," you say, eyes warm.

"No, I think I should. Anything for you to understand me. Anything for you to see you like how I see you."

"Letting out my deepest darkest secrets here, but do you know what I did when we first met?"

You shake your head, curious.

"I had a dream about you that was so good, I fell out of my bed. Peter never lets me live it down."

"A sweet dream?"

"Now, you and I both know it was more than that. Two cold showers should answer your questions."

You hide your face in his neck, heartbeat drumming through you, "Did you really?"

"Hand to heart. I understand your feelings. I acknowledge them too, but I need you to understand mine as well. Trust me when I say that you are unbelievably sexy. I love you and your body. My eyes caught your appearance before I came to know your personality. Anybody would be lucky to have you, but I'm the luckiest because you chose me."

Miguel hugged you close and kissed your head.

"Now let's rewind. You said you feel crazy when you're close to me?"

You groan in his neck.

"Uncontrollable? Heated?"

"Miggy, stop."

"My girlfriend is head over heels for me," Miguel hummed as he rubbed his hands down your naked legs. "She wants to ruin me."

"No, I don't."

"She's still wearing my clothes with nothing underneath but her panties and is leaning all over me. Her thighs are around my waist and she just told me that she wants me."

"You put me here," you lean up and stare at him. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were dewey.

"She's looking at me like she's upset, but now I know that her heart is going crazy. I want to kiss her."

"Then do it," you whisper.

The kiss is sweet, the taste of fruit and syrup still on your lips. You finally relax in his arms, body melted against his. His hands slip under your sweater, dancing over your back. Your skin is soft and warm, a blanket over Miguel's figure.

The time where you two connect extends deeper and longer. You let your hands venture further than the nape of his neck, roaming until you brush across his chest. Miguel's breath hitched as your nails raked his nipple, chest jumping at the impact.

You break for a second, wanting to get air, but Miguel leans back in, desperate. He's whining, groping your body all over. His noises go straight to your core, twitching above him. He matches your pace, dragging your hips across his, reveling in how fast your body was reacting to him.

When he leans back, there's a string of saliva connecting you two. He's breathing hard as he watches you.

"Can I take this off? Please," Miguel grips the bottom of your sweater, eyes pleading.

You bite your lip and slide the sweater over your head, dropping it to the bed. You bring your hands over the top of your chest, arms framing your breasts.

You can't look Miguel in the eyes, too shy, "Is this fine?"

Miguel's eyes almost turn as he watches you, so shy but so seductive. He reaches out to cup your breasts in his hands, groaning when they plush through his fingers.

"You're so," Miguel rubs his thumbs across your nipples, enjoying you twitching and gasping in his hold. "Fuck."

His gaze burned into you, hungry as you lapped his tongue around your nipples. You let out a whimper when you feel him pull your skin in, mouth hot. It doesn't beat his pleased hum, voice like a man finally getting relief.

He massages your vacant breast, movements getting harsher. His grip is like a vice making it harder for you to second-guess yourself.

You hiss and rake your hands through his hair, "B-baby, be careful."

"Lo siento, mi amor," Miguel says, kissing across your areolas. "'M sorry."

You find your breath, fighting to steady your voice, "You're on me like we didn't just do something earlier."

Miguel paused and placed his cheek on your chest, "Baby, I'm a virgin and a man, not a prude. With practice, I could go all day."

The thought of that has you tightening your legs around him, hips stuttering. Miguel shifts to pull you over his left thigh.

"Does that excite you, baby?" Miguel smirks.

You close your eyes and nod, hips rolling over his thigh, keening high as he hikes his thigh closer to your sex and grips your waist. His muscles feel so good against you, the sounds getting wetter and wetter with each swipe.

"God, you're so pretty like this," Miguel sighs. "My gorgeous girl."

Your movements are becoming more frantic, Migiuel's voice in your ears spurring you on. He was sucking into your neck, growling as you scratched against his shoulder blades.

"That's right, baby. Keep going. Use me to get off," Miguel helped your hips keep a steady pace, pulling at your briefs to a makeshift thong. The tightness of your underwear combined with his thigh and his voice sends you into overdrive.

"Miguel!" you sob, hands gripping his hair. Your body trembles as you squeeze your thighs around him, cunt pulsating around nothing but your underwear, release leaking onto his leg.

Miguel cooed as you dropped your weight against him, body limp and hips fluttering with aftershocks. You panted as you kept your head on his shoulder, willing yourself to calm down.

"Are you ok?" Miguel asks, kissing your temple, your ear, your cheek. He feels you nod into his skin, blissed out.

"I like how you called me the needy one and you're the one who came three times today," Miguel mumbled, laughing as you swatted at his pec.

"I already confessed what you do to me. This shouldn't be shocking."

"Didn't say that. 'M just happy you feel more comfortable around me. It's what I want." One last kiss to your face seals his joy.

You lift up on shaky knees, hands holding onto Miguel for dear life. Your thighs were still shaking and your underwear was ruined. Miguel's cock twitched at the essence that seeped onto his leg, watching as sticky lines dragged from his skin to yours.

He grabbed you by the waist with one hand and wiped at your slick with another.

He's about to swipe at it with his tongue until you stop him.

"Miguel! Don't do that," you say, flustered.

"What? I'm just enjoying the fruits of my labor," he pouts as you grab some napkins and clean off his hands and thigh.

"So close to eating you, yet so far," he sighs miserably. "One day."

You ignore him and look down at his erection, taking a knuckle and lining the side. It was your first time really paying attention to him down there, now that you weren't distracted by his advances.

"What about you?"

He twitched as you walked along his clothed shaft, pre-come leaking through the fabric.

"As much as I want you to continue, we have to get ready for today," Miguel jerks as you continue your ministrations with a pout on your face. "And, I need condoms if you want to take this any further."

"Not even a blowjob?" you peer at him with your deer eyes again.

Miguel took a deep breath, "I was right. You are trying to ruin me."

GymRat!Miguel who lets you know that Tyler wants to meet you both after you both have changed clothes for the day. Something about a surprise.

"I love surprises!" you say turning to Miguel with a smile on your face. "As long as it's nothing like last night. I think it'll be ok."

Miguel matches your smile and presses his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who stops at his home briefly, trying to get in and get out. He manages to fill up his travel bag, drop off his laundry, and give Gabriel a heart attack all before his mom notices he's there.

"Where are you going?" Gabriel asks with his hand over his heart, headphones lopsided around his neck.

"None of your business, nosy."

"Uh, it kind of is my business. You think you're grown when you're really not."

Miguel rolls his eyes. He didn't really want to tell Gabriel, but sometimes he couldn't say no to him.

"We're going out to see Tyler. He has a surprise for us. He also said he arranged something for us including you and Dana."

"Oh shit! Ok. And if mom asks where you are?"

"Tell her I'll come by tomorrow. I'm spending the next few days with my girlfriend."

"Alrighty," Gabriel sing-songs, placing his headphones back on his head. "You kids be safe. Don't scare my girl away."

Miguel smacks Gabriel across the head and runs out the door before he can catch up.

GymRat!Miguel who just laughs at your face while you frantically unlock the car to let him in.

"Baby, what's wrong?" you ask, voice in a panic.

"A string bean is trying to attack me," he responds, giggling as Gabriel runs out of the house.

"I'm getting you back for that you oaf!" Gabriel yells as Miguel backs out of the driveway. He stops his anger to wave at you, which you return with a sweet smile.

"Baby, you're encouraging him."

GymRat!Miguel who guides you through the doors of a cafe that Tyler recommended. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his stark white hair and light clothing. The only semblance of color on him was his silver jewelry.

He sat there, typing away at his phone, oblivious to the people around him who found familiarity in his form.

"Dad," Miguel said, the word funny on his tongue. He tried to make an effort to refer to him as his father in public, something Tyler appreciated greatly.

"Son!" he got up and engulfed him in a hug, giving you a softer version afterward. "It's good to see you both."

"It's lovely to see you again as well, Mr. Stone," you say, giving Miguel a smile when he pulls your chair out for you. "Thank you so much for thinking of us after all that's happened. Thank you for paying for my stay as well, the hotel is very lovely."

"Anything for Miguel's loved ones," he smiles in a way that has a hint of Miguel. You feel better going into the rest of this meal.

GymRat!Miguel who almost chokes on his coffee before Tyler can finish his sentence.

"A yacht?!"

"Is it too much? I can do something else to your liking," Tyler frets, wiping his hands on his slacks. "I'm not sure what all kids your age like nowadays."

"I've never been on a yacht. so I don't even know how to react," Miguel responds.

The two of them are sporting the same deer-in-headlights look.

"I'm sure it would be a great experience for all of us. If everyone doesn't mind, I'm sure we can get together and have a great time," you say, helping the two of them out. "Something nice to start the summer off."

"That's great! I will have everything ready by the beginning of next month then," Tyler says, mood lifting immediately. He was a lot like a golden retriever. "With that in order, I'd like to grant you this."

He takes his wallet out, reaching in to grab a card.

As he slides it across the table, your eyes grow big.

It's a black card with T. Stone pressed across the bottom.

"What's this for?" Miguel asks, staring at the card with building curiosity.

"You all need clothes for the trip, don't you?" Tyler asks. "And I'm sure you need more clothes to wear this week. Please take this, I don't mind. I trust you not to go overboard. I'll let you know when to give it back."

Miguel took the card in his hands, the weight of it heavier than any of his own.

"I guess it's time for a shopping spree," Miguel said, a smile growing on his face.

GymRat!Miguel who drives you straight to the mall. The windows are down as you both laugh and sing to the song on the radio. Miguel wishes he could record this moment, but for now, he dials it back to replay in his memory.

GymRat!Miguel who is happy to carry your bags and encourages you to buy more. Whenever you start to feel like you've gone overboard, he just whispers "black card" in your ear like a devil on your shoulder.

GymRat!Miguel who convinces you to walk around the name-brand stores. He did have Tyler's card, but he was also thoroughly watching what you gravitated towards. He locked away so many gift ideas for later.

GymRat!Miguel who joins you in the mirror of a shades shop. The both of you take pictures with coordinating glasses and you giggle as Miguel makes silly faces in some of them.

GymRat!Miguel who becomes your doll as you pick out outfits for him. He's smiling down at you as you put different shirts up to his body, mumbling to yourself as you make decisions. So pretty.

GymRat!Miguel who waits while you try on some clothes, giddy whenever you show him a new outfit. You managed to find clothes that coordinated with his and you're super excited about it.

"Close your eyes!" you yell through the door.

He does so and listens for you to walk out. After you take a while, he opens his eyes a little.

"Baby, no peeking," you chastise.

He huffs and waits a little longer.

"Ok. 1, 2, 3, open!"

His eyes land on you in a dress that hugs your curves like no other. Your chest fills out the top perfectly and seeing your stomach through the front is driving him mad.

"Do you like it?" you turned around, giving Miguel a grand view of how your ass was sitting in the dress.

"Do the dressing rooms have a time limit?"

You blink at him owlishly, "No? Why?"

GymRat!Miguel who drags all of your bags and you back inside of the dressing room with lightning speed. As soon as he locks the door, he's attached to your lips, kneading at your ass and hips.

You gasp in his mouth, shocked at how fast he's moving.

"Miguel, what- oh," you sigh as he leans down and pulls your dress up, face buried in your neck.

"You look so good, mi amor. I can't help it."

GymRat!Miguel who almost cums when you pull his dick out. Your eyes grow along with his erection, watching as he twitches in your hold. You've never taken anyone this big and from your hesitance, Miguel can gather this much.

"We don't have to do anything. In fact, you don't have to do that here," he pants.

"You mean take you down my throat?" you ask, running your thumb over his head, watching in awe as liquid seeped out. Miguel bit his hand to quiet his moans. "I'll wait until we're somewhere more private and less noticeable that I'm on my knees for you."

Miguel looks at the open space under the dressing room door, "Yeah that's probably for the best."

GymRat!Miguel who places you in front of him, both of you facing the mirror. Your dress is bunched up and Miguel is rocking his cock in between your thighs.

He's bent down, biting lightly on your shoulder so that he doesn't shout. Your thighs were so warm and plush against him and his pre-cum was spewing out of him like a fountain.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," he moans a little too loud after a few minutes.

GymRat!Miguel who watches you in the mirror. Your tits were so close to slipping from the top of your dress, the impact from his hips jerking your entire body. He grabbed at both of them, watching as you moan at the contact. His slaps got louder and louder, milky fluid running down your legs.

GymRat!Miguel who is overcome with need when you turn and run your tongue across his earlobe. He convulses as his release spurts across the room, landing on the mirror. He grips your hips and breathes hard into your skin, the tempo of his heart moving quick.

You pat his head and praise him, heavy eyes following your hand as you rub his tip that's still rubbing through your thighs. He whines, sensitive, but not moving away from you.

GymRat!Miguel who wipes you down carefully with some wipes you have in your purse. Luckily you both haven't ruined yet another pair of underwear.

He kisses you softly when he finishes, little confessions of love traveling from his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who checks the dressing room one last time, making sure he's gotten any evidence of his removed from the area. Your green dress is in his arms and you've changed back to your outfit.

The area is clean, but there are fresh hickeys on your neck, something he got carried away with.

GymRat!Miguel who walks out like nothing happened. You on the other hand, hand over some extra clothes you didn't like to a worker in slight embarrassment. He eyes you both with a look of horror.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you Auntie Anne's in the crowded food court. You hum happily after each bite. He dusts cinnamon off the corner of your lips with a smile.

GymRat!Miguel who moves from dusting to leaning across the table to lick the crumbs off when a table full of guys keeps eying you.

"What was that for?" you asked, oblivious to the hound dogs around you.

"Nothing. I just love you, baby."

dividers by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I got a very useful lesson on condoms and BJs while writing this chapter. It won't ever be applied to this fic, BUT it was still kinda fun nonetheless.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! Leave a like, a reblog, and COMMENTS if you did!!! 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

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[solaiced]

CASE 29: NANAMI KENTO'S PUNISHMENTS ARE SO HARSH!

!content!: continuation of day 14, spanking, implied multiple rounds, and not beta’d (it’s getting repetitive.)

wc: 560

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Never had you thought that your boss was such a crude while fucking. But you also never thought he'd sleep with you, so that's something done.

Here you were, pinned down on a cool wood desk by the Nanami Kento, ass pressed to his drool-worthy abs. His hot breath on your nape as his cock drilled into you mercilessly from behind and his rough hand came down on your already red asscheeks, so much pain and pleasure at the same time...

"N-Nanami!" You whimper at the latest branding, legs shaking because you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, too weak.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh reverberated through the room, so loud, it filled your ears.

“What is it? What more do you need, you filthy slut? I gave you what you wanted, and you still want more, you whore?" Nanami's hand slides into your hair, grabbing a chunk and pulling roughly, making you arch your back.

You try to shake your head, tears lining your eyelids. “No, no, please, 's sho good!" You mewl, tightening around his spearing cock inside of you.

He hums, I acknowledging your begging, “think you should-hah! you should apologize, sweetheart.” Nanami whimpers in your ear after saying that in the most honeyed tone one could muster up.

You shiver, delighted at the proximity. "M ... I'm s-so... I'm sorry- Mr Nana- ah!" You yelp at another harsh slap on your ass.

"It's 'Kento’, to you." He huffs in your ear while slowing down.

“I’m so sorry, Kento!” you sob, another, albeit softer, slap landing on your reddened ass.

"Sorry for what?" Nanami snarls, it's almost as if he had something against you and what you are.

His lovely assistant, the one he wants to put a ring on.

"W-what? A r-ring?" Comes your breathless question, and he realizes he said it aloud.

“Fuck yeah.” The man grinds his hips into your behind, teeth gritted. "You should be ashamed... Of your beauty!" He groans as he reaches his orgasm unexpectedly, pulling out to cum on your half-bared back.

Nanami paints your shirt and lower back with his semen, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Your name is half-groaned, half-gasped, his swollen lips forming an 'o', cumming so hard his head hurt and he almost passed out.

You laid there, catching your breath while Nanami's body crushed you with his weight.

"Mr. Nanami?" You cautiously whisper, unable to see if he was even conscious in this position, although you felt his breath on your back, and his chest moving, so at least he was alive.

"Hold on,” you hear him say. “Give me a moment, you 'll cum." Those words felt like a threat, and your body reacted accordingly, trying to move away from him.

“Where're you going?” The man straightens himself up and grabs the hand you were using to prop yourself up and escape.

“I said we weren't done yet."

You've created a monster.

Or maybe, you've uncovered a monster. Because the Nanami you knew has never even showed an ounce of sexual or romantic attraction towards you, so why did he fuck so aggressively? And why was it so hot that you wanted more?

Nanami's large hand spanks your ass and he hums your name deeply, “don’t keep ‘daddy’ waiting, hm? Sweetie.”

Holy shit. Were you gonna die of horniness? It sure felt like it.

[squidpedia]

if it's fine with you, could you draw more aimee? I just adore them and you can draw them as doodles or colored or etc I really just wanna put them as a phone wallpaper I LOVE THEM OKAY. They're so scrunkly and yeah ALSO do you have angst planned for the future ANYAAYS BYEEEEE

1. Unfortunately i dont think these make the greatest wallpaper buttttt i do have a bunch of aimee stuff lying around!! Hereeeeee thank you for liking themmmmm (bare in mind some of these are olddd and design is a little outdated. Most recent ones is any where they are colored and have the blue colored eyebags. First image is most accurate in terms of current hairstyle)

Rambled about this to oomf recently but like when it comes to making oc’s im prone to base them off of specific memories usually. thing that inspired aimee was when family decided to screw with 9 y/o me and print out photograph with photoshopped ghost face onto it and swear it was real. Went to bed and felt sensation of something rubbing my shoulder for the next 12 hours. And also crying sobbing because i wasnt sure if “the bad man with the red eyes” was gonna get me first or the manananggal. Aimee wasnt built to survive i think

2. i think so?? I have a lot of comics i really wanna make and i just have to bring myself to finish them eventually,,,,,i think a good chunk of them count as sad but also have ok resolutions to them, i like my angst content combo’ed with promise of healing :)

[lunarw0rks]

Hello again! I love your works and it's super early to request another but I read your latest post and I loved it! So if you don't mind, could you do headcanons on 141 reacting to their s/o cleaning their car?

Like one of those stereotypical scenes where she's in a bikini or a bikini top with shorts and she's cleaning her car, like she loves her car so she cleans it alot but this is the first time they see the full scene. NSFW would be amazing if you would be ok with it :)

Thank you :]

In The Sunlight // 141 Headcanons (+Ale)

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), suggestive language/content, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.6k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? // ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

SYNOPSIS; summer hit, and it hit hard.

Sizzling atmosphere, sky-rocketing temps, and revolving fans working overtime. Every year, people complain that they miss winter when the high temps smack them in the face, but they wish for the heat when the leaves fall. For you—you would take any excuse to enjoy the hose and sprinkler, sometimes washing your car weekly as an excuse to cool off. Cold showers, ice packs, air conditioning; it wasn’t enough. 

On the bright side, it gave you an excuse to wash your beloved car. To run the hose on the vehicle, and most of all your sweating skin; all while wearing revealing summer attire.

Price

John was due to be home that day, the house was lonely, and you were miserable in the heat. Why not be outside when he comes home? You dressed yourself in a bikini to sprit yourself with the hose, spending about half the time searching for a cool off than washing your car. In your other hand, you had an drink with more ice cubes than liquid; a soothing cube to crunch on while you worked. You swirled your drink as you put another cube between your teeth, spreading the foamy soap with intense focus.

That focus broke when his car finally pulled into the driveway, revealing his attempt at an eager welcome. He was exhausted, but never too exhausted to greet you. Besides, you wearing a basically see-through swimsuit? How can he resist?

❝Don’t work too hard, sweetheart. You’ll get heat stroke.❞ John crept up to you, dropping his duffel. He leaned down and sipped from your drink, picking up an ice cube between his teeth. His lips leaned forward, tracing the ice along your neck and down your cleavage until it melted against your flesh. ❝Let me help you cool off, I missed all of you.❞ His lips found your drink again, meeting your lips with a dripping chunk of ice—a whole new meaning to a sloppy kiss.

Simon

Simon hates the heat—despises it, even. All year round, he wears dark colors, multiple layers, and most notably his balaclava. Does that stop him from ogling you? Not a bit. He can enjoy the view from inside, peering through the curtains at your soaked figure as you scrub your prized car. You lean over the edge, bikini top doing little to contain your breasts as he gets a good view down the top. Simon lets out an amused scoff at the sight, closing the curtains before you have the opportunity to spot him.

You come back inside for some water, wrapping a towel so you don’t dribble on the floor. A hand darts out of the doorway of the kitchen, Simon’s hand gripping the towel and giving it a yank until it falls to the floor. ❝Gave the neighbors a show, didn’t you?❞

He steps out from his hidden spot around the counter, giving your arm a gentle pull so you come towards him, until your face his inches from his. Normally, he leaves his teasing until nightfall, but he’s home and you’re soaked.

❝Need to get you into some better clothes.❞ His strong arms slither around your midsection, gripping intensely. No better excuse, assisting you in getting another change of clothes after he carries you to the bedroom.

Soap

The humidity constantly disturbed your slumber. You and Soap’s shared bedroom was more like a sauna, no matter how long the fans or AC ran. It was so severe you laid awake during the early morning, tossing and turning, peeling the covers stuck to your sweaty body. There was no point in attempting to sleep, you were wide awake at four-thirty in the morning, might as well go outside and cool off. Your car could use a wash, anyhow.

You slipped on a bikini and stepped out into the morning air. The sun hadn’t risen completely, so the heat wasn’t unbearable yet. The hose spewed a stream of water on the hood as you did your first rinse, then scoured cleaner on it. You bent over the hood of your car to reach a spot you missed, lips curled in concentration.

When you felt a pair of hands on your hips, you let out a squeal, quickly soothed by a familiar accent. ❝Don’t move,❞ he purred into your ear, tugging your bottoms down to your ankles. Soap knelt behind you, swiping his tongue along your folds. Your gaze darts around the dim streets, insisting a neighbor will see.

He speaks, then his licks only gained intensity and sloppiness. ❝Let ‘em see.❞

Gaz

As soon as the two of you find time to be outside, it’s an immature sight; chasing each other through the backyard, spraying one another with the hose, or on days where he’s beat, he’ll simply watch you from the hot tub. Today, it was betrayal. You were washing your car, completely believing the fact that Gaz was “too tired” for games tonight. He was too calculated to not have a battle plan, you should’ve known better, right?

As you’ve returned from refilling the soapy bucket, there’s an icy pour of ice water, over the top of your hair, soaking your bikini top, all the way down your jean shorts and legs. With an agape mouth, you drop the bucket and chase after his fleeting figure—a smug grin on his face the whole time. When you round the corner into the backyard, he’s nowhere in sight. As you creep up on the shed, he finally reveals himself, sending you both to a tumble in the grass.

Kyle constricts your arms above your head, grinning down at your hopeless struggle. ❝I didn’t cheat, you just need better eyes, babe.❞ He loosens his grip when you stop fighting him, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips. He places a knee between your legs, staring down at your soaked bikini top hungrily. ❝You look so goddamn sexy like this…❞

Alejandro

You were washing away, brows knitted in focus. Then, you remembered you had left your water bottle on the kitchen counter. The windows were wide open because you were airing out the house on a hot day, so it was worth a shot hollering for Alejandro. ❝Ale, can you bring me my water? Ale?❞ You raise your voice slightly because there’s no way he can’t hear you.

❝In the backyard, cariño.❞ His unmistakable voice replies, distant from the back of the house. You sigh and enter the house, finding your water but no sign of Alejandro, even through the paned glass windows and sliding door. In reality; he had been ogling you for several minutes, waiting for his opportunity for either you to ask for something, or him making something up on the spot. Lucky for him, your need for your bottle had everything going according to plan.

You exited to the backyard, holding a hand up to block the sun. Even if he was visible right now, he would be impossible to spot from the blaze of the star. ❝Right here, amor.❞ Alejandro crept out from out of the shade, wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You knew what this meant—it was inevitable with him. And yet, you fell for it again.

In the next second, you were plunged into the pool, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. He chuckles at your whines of contempt, pressing his forehead against yours. ❝How was that? You fell for it again, que no?❞ It’s obvious he can’t resist you in a bikini.

Laswell

There are two things Kate can’t get enough of; sunbathing and eyeing you. Sitting on the lounge chairs, reclined with a book or magazine in hand. It’s not often she’s on leave, or home long enough to spend outside. Today was different—she had some time off. She intended to spend as much time outside enjoying the heat, much more preferable than being cooped up in an understimulating base. And watching you while she vedged out? It’s a common pursuit of hers, bikini on or not.

You held your hair up with one hand, the other using the sprinkler setting to mist yourself. Kate tipped her sunglasses down slightly to get a better view, a warm beam spreading on her face. Her nose crinkled slightly as you sprayed the hood of the car, spreading the suds around on the surface.

She flicked to the next page of her magazine, soaking in the sunbeams.

Though she would never say it out in the open, she was certainly ogling her favorite parts of you; your sunkissed chest, the curves hugged tight by shorts—all a cherished image for the next time she leaves, and probably later that night after dinner. ❝How much for you to do mine too, babe?❞

To add to it, she probably snaps candid photos of you, the stream of them probably ending with you blocking the lens with your hands. She’s her own favorite comedian, your complaints and embarrassed whines are a close second.