!! polyamory !!
caritas, poker, and snuggle.
anyone could tell who named what cat, and which cat cake was who's favorite.
.
caritas was veritas' favorite, the name being an old language word meaning ' love ' although he wouldn't really admit to it. he'd told you that the cat's original name - or rather, it's classification, was lambda's friend, with blue skin and black and white filling. but the cat cake had a little gold flower on the side of it's head, too, which reminded him of himself.
caritas loves to chat with the other cat cakes. its the kind of cat that makes friends with other really quickly, so it's always chatting with poker and snuggle about something throughout the day. their conversations can range from anything about how warm the bed is to the best spot in the living room to see the three of their owners dancing together in the kitchen with music while you were trying to make dinner.
ratio absolutely loved to note down their conversations whenever present. it surprised him that such a creature was so articulate, even able to properly express its desires. he'd concluded that the cat cakes had the intelligence of a young toddler with a rudimentary but understandable grasp on language. you and aventurine liked to tease him sometimes for treating the cat cakes as children sometimes, trying to teach them as a parent would, although this was something that ratio would deny wholeheartedly.
" they are an interesting new species. they are ruan mei's creations, and yet she doesn't seem to understand their full potential. i believe it's imperative that we study them and possibly teach them things they otherwise wouldn't know without our interventions, " ratio reasoned, while he was holding the little cat cake, cradling it like it was something precious to him.
.
poker was aventurine's, the name coming from one of his favorite card games to play, even though he rationalized it by saying that the cat was particularly swatty and liked to cause trouble by batting at things off of the edge of tables. " it likes to poke things until it drops off of the table, so the name poker makes sense, doesn't it ? " yeah, okay aventurine, whatever you say.
poker loved to meow in the dead of night and startle everyone out of sleep in the most inopportune times. ratio has a lecture early in the morning for the intelligentsia guild ? poker is making it's boredom everyone's problem. aventurine has a meeting with the other stonehearts ? oh boy, poker is right there sitting on his face meowing incessantly. if you've got something important to do, well, sorry to say you won't be getting very much sleep that night no matter how early you go to bed. it was bratty, sure, but it was ultimately just an average grey cat cake with nothing special about it, and seemed to have an overwhelming fear of being left alone.
no matter how annoying the cat cake was being that particular night, there was only one way to stop it from meowing. of course, ratio tried to reprimand it and teach it other ways to relieve its boredom at night, but nothing proved effective. you would just try to get it to calm down by playing with it for a little while, but that really only worked until you left it alone, and then it went right back to meowing. aventurine, however, had the magic touch. he would grab the cat cake and bring it into bed, and he would just.. talk to it. in a quiet voice, just chatting about whatever popped up into his head. he'd talk for an hour or more. sometimes it was about sigonia, sometimes it was about his job as a stoneheart. sometimes it was just different gambles and how he ended up winning them.
" so, of course, i had to prove that i was much more than he gave me credit for, " aventurine had been yapping for about an hour now, when he looked down at the cat cake in his arms and realized that it was sound asleep, purring against his chest. " ah, looks like i've done it again. you're welcome, you two. "
" thank you, 'churine, " you mumbled, half asleep as you leaned over to him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, your head falling back down to rest on his shoulder, already falling back asleep. ratio didn't say anything, and when aventurine looked over at him, he couldn't help but smile. he'd put ratio asleep while just chatting, too.
.
snuggle was your trash cake cat, and there was really no deeper meaning behind the name. it was a snuggly cat, and loved attention. loved anyone and everyone who was willing to give it attention. sometimes you would wake up with it resting on your chest, sometimes you would see ratio lazily carrying snuggle around, and other times aventurine was playing with it making it chase a feather around. snuggle was the attention whore of the trio.
snuggle loved to follow you wherever you walked, especially to the bathroom. whether you were getting ready for the day or just trying to spend a few minutes doing human business, you had a pair of eyes watching over your ever move, making sure that you were never far from its sight, almost like it was protective over you. you couldn't help but compare it to your two partners, lord knows how often they were checking up on you in their own ways. ratio wasn't afraid of shooting you a text whenever he had a free moment while you were away to make sure you were okay, and aventurine was constantly on the phone with you through his headpiece.
" snuggle, i'm just going to the bathroom ! it's okay, really- " you gently protested, earning a small mew from the cat cake as it followed behind you into the bathroom, sitting patiently at the doorway, waiting for you to get finished with your business.
" hey, darling, i'm home from work ~ guess who i dragged back home with me after his lecture. " aventurine called out for you almost immediately, followed by the quieter voice of ratio announcing his presence as well.
you rolled your eyes at your partners immediately calling for you, your heart swelling with love for them, washing your hands as you walked out of the bathroom, snuggle hot on your tracks. " welcome back, guys. all of the cat cakes have been taken care of, and i started dinner. "
" thank you, i'm sure dinner will be pleasant as always, " veritas hummed, his briefcase still in his hand as he leaned down to kiss you on your lips.
" what would we do without you ? " aventurine weaseled his way in between you two, mostly because he also wanted to get his after work love from you.
.
a chatty cat cake with more intelligence that it originally seemed, a cat cake that needed to be calmed down when everyone left it alone with its thoughts, and a protective cat cake that enjoyed attention and making sure that those around it was okay.
maybe these were the perfect cat cakes for you three.
For those who don't understand the kid is screaming: "I'm here dad! Come here!" His father comes and asks him: "where is your mother?" The kid cries: "she died, she died."
Then the child explains that his foot is injured and his father tries to comfort him.
This is evil. The child literally met his dad at the hospital by accident, he watched his mom die and had to break the news to his father. What kind of power will save these children from this trauma? I know children in gaza are so strong and resilient, but children are children regardless.
Use your voice to end this genocide. Enough, CEASEFIRE NOW!
In the guaranted 5s in 24 pulls, Rafayel came home. So after that, he came home in 50 pulls!!!
On the other hand, I made a bet with my friends that if he came home, I have to write a 10k word fanfic... now I don't have a choice đŤ
Yesterday marked the 100th day of genocide. Please, do not get used to this. Our people, killed, bombed, kidnapped, stripped, executed and starved is not normal. Our kids in pieces, their body parts collected in bags is not normal.
Israel has killed 23,700 human. More than 10,300 child. We'd need 177 school bus to carry the Palestinian children killed by Israel in gaza. 10,022 fatherless child. 8,352 motherless child. The wounded have their wounds rot and die waiting in front of the crossing. Maggots seen inside alive people's wounds. 5,500 pregnant woman will give birth in the upcoming weeks. 100 Days of Genocide. 100 Days of the world watching silently.
donât stop talking about whatâs happening
Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.
Ghost
Pretends he doesnât care about the age gap, but he secretly does.
Youâd never know it, but he worries that heâs roping you into a relationship â a long-term one at that â when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.
He also fears that, in some way, heâs corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.
It doesnât matter how many times you tell him otherwise, heâs still going to worry about you.
There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.
More on this later đ.
He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and heâs already got it gift wrapped. He feels itâs the least he can do after youâve shown him that life isnât just an endless cycle of suffering â an infinitum of anguish â that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.
Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.
Expect a lot of praise in bed.
Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how youâre âSuch a good girl, taking me so well,â while he fills you with long, languid strokes.
Other times, heâs not so gentle.
Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface â one of convenience rather than comfort â with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.
His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.
âLike having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, donât you, Love.â
Heâs very protective of you.
He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when youâre out together.
Scary dog privileges.
Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.
That being said, heâs paranoid that one day youâll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better â someone you deserve. Someone younger.
Heâs damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that heâs the only man youâll ever love.
As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.
However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, heâll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.
And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.
âOh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?â he says, his head tilting. âDonât you worry, Darling. Iâll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.â
KĂśnig
Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.
But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.
Heâs the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.
When he feels like it.
He treats you like youâre innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.
Sometimes he has to remind himself that youâre a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.
You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.
Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his âMinnie Mausâ, and treats you as such.
Pls sit on his lap, heâll only be able to die happy once you do.
He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isnât a moment where youâre without him at home.
Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bitâŚfunny.
A little bit silly.
And by silly, I mean thereâs a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.
Especially if heâs seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.
One of the few times heâll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.
He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.
Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of KĂśnigâs gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.
Once you get home, heâs on you before you can even shut the door.
Itâs times like these that KĂśnig doesnât feel insecure about the age gap between you.
Because he knows, no matter how little youâre willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.
âDid you like that boyâs attention earlier, Maus?â he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.
âIs my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?â
His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper â primal â in the low glow of the bedside lamp.
âNo matter. Iâll make you remember how much you need me,â he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.
âInch by bloody inch.â
Valeria
Youâre her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.
That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.
Sexual or otherwise.
Sheâs particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when sheâs walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and sheâs grinning from ear to ear.
Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.
In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.
âDonât go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,â she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.
âOr next time I wonât just stop at your throat.â
She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.
She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know theyâll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.
Valeriaâs mood can fluctuate in bed.
Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of youâs left bleeding as Valeriaâs panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.
Most of the time, sheâs loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.
Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know sheâd do anything for you.
You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would âScorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.â
You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.
Price
Heâs so father-coded fr.
He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie â anything that highlights your fragile nature.
Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what theyâre missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs â the pinnacle of which shadowed by Johnâs shirt â and watch something they can never have, never touch.
John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.
Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.
The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are Johnâs world.
When you can tell Johnâs feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.
A kiss to the temple and the promise that heâs the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.
On the rare occasion it isnât, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.
E.g. screaming Johnâs name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.
He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when heâs like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you heâs the âOnly one who can make you whimper like a fuckinâ dog,â
âSuch a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,â he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.
âGod, youâre so beautiful â soâ fuckâ gorgeous.â Heâs panting, gasping, growling.
âAnd all mine.â
Horangi
Youâre the only thing that matters to him.
At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.
Calls you ěę¸°ěź (Jagiya â Honey, Darling).
His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.
In case you couldnât tell, heâs highly protective of you.
You can make him do absolutely anything â heâs at your beck and call.
You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call âkitten eyesâ eyes.
Even if youâre being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.
Unless you push him too far.
At which point, he wonât hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.
Heâll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.
âDonât start crying now, ě기 â you brought this on yourself.â
He never fails in the aftercare department, though.
Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.
Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him ě¤ëš .
A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.
Even if you donât understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.
Silly enough to know that heâs not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal withâŚsomething.
Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.
âI need you, (Y/N),â he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. âAnd Iâll have every inch of you.â
Alejandro
Pre-established passionate lover.
One who is fiercely protective over you.
If anyone â and I mean anyone â catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.
Heâll do whatever it takes to make sure youâre 110% satisfied, regardless of context.
You want a new wardrobe ? Itâs done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it canât wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.
He calls you âmi Princesaâ and makes sure everybody knows youâre his and heâs yours.
A thorough lover is how you might describe him.
Especially after heâs so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.
You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.
Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.
Alejandro likes to play a game whenever youâre riding him.
He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.
âLetâs see how long you can hold on for, mi CorazĂłn,â he says, flashing you a sultry smile before heâs bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.
âHolding onâ can mean anything from not being pounded off Aleâs hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.
Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When heâs all teeth, a sharkâs grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to âTrain your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?â
Needless to say, youâll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.
Rodolfo
His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.
As he should.
You want it ? You got it.Â
In abundance.
You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.
That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.
He omits the more gruesome details, fearing heâll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesnât.
Speaking of lap-sitting, itâs your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.
Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you âWhat a good girl youâre being, mi amor,â
Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.
It doesnât matter if Rudyâs topping or bottoming, heâs going to let you know how youâre making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.
âI love you,â he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.
âI love you, I love you so muchââ He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.
âIâll never let anyone else have you.â
Graves
This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.
Calls you âBabydollâ, âBabygirlâ, âLittle Ladyâ, etc.
He unironically refers to himself as âDaddyâ.
E.g. âYou were eyeinân up that necklace for a while, DarlinââŚâ His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.
âMaybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, heâll get it for you.â
Heâs actually very caring. Heâd buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.
He never expects anything from you in return.
He just canât pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.
Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.
Calls you âyoung thingâ when heâs feeling humourous.
On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.
Heâll be very condescending when heâs mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.
âIf youâd just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that Iâm doing whatâs best for you, we wouldnât be in this situation!â
On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point intoâŚdubious activities.
#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.
Heâs a switch with top lean, what can I say.
âCanât do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.â Itâs not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. Heâs pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.
Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.
âIâll make sure you canât even think without me by the time Iâm done with you.â
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost
AO3 Wattpad
Caleb who fantasizes about having sex with you, like in a gooner kinda way đđ who sniffs your used boxers when youâre done from the gym
Caleb who literally begs you to have sex with him, and after a LOT of pestering you finally let in.
and heâs so giddy too the day of, until heâs in front of your door, thoughts empty and throat dry.
youâre on your bed, shirt off in a pair of sweatpants, gesturing him to get on your bed. and the funniest part is, he sits in the corner, quiet and meek with a red face because he just short circuits in this situation.
caleb who kinda likes being in a breeding press, your strong arms that has him in a chokehold while you tease him about how much heâs wanted this
tbf on him if one of my crazy rude ass blorbos said that to me id think theyre crazy
from the series of thoughts that I only have during the night: I really find it incredibly erotic to fuck a man who, for whatever reason, whether it be a cock ring, a chastity cage or just tiredness/stress, can't get hard. judge me, I don't care. top!male reader and bottom! geto suguru below, no specific warning, but this is a bit angst and dark. minors dni. if you haven't seen part one of season two or haven't read the manga this contains spoilers.
Suguru was tired. Exhausted to the point where he wouldn't even consider dragging himself to the bathroom and letting the icy water that threatened to freeze his bones help with the ever constant tension in his shoulders. The phantom taste of the cursed spirit that lingered in his mouth, consistent even when it had been days since he'd swallowed it. He wanted to vomit. Wanted to pass out under the stream of water. Wanted to sleep for hours at a time, not even considering waking up. It was easy to search for just one word: disappear.
Instead of all that though, he was seduced by your hungry eyes, by your deft fingers always touching him with mastery - and a gentleness that never failed to make him sick. You undressed him as you took his mouth in a deep, sweet kiss that erased the sourness and bitterness rising in his throat, not commenting on the deep, dark circles under his empty eyes, or the decreasing frequency of times he returned to what you called 'home'.
You trailed kisses down his neck and shoulders, your every hurried, warm movement giving away just how much you wanted him. And you didn't even point out loud that Suguru wasn't even hard for you.
"It's okay." Suguru opened his mouth to say, using all his remaining strength to touch your wrist where for the last five minutes you've tried to bring him to hardness. Suguru really wanted you. He couldn't think of a better way to take away the darkness that roamed the corners of his mind with memories of the past rather than with your cock inside him. But he knew he wouldn't get hard, It didn't matter how much you tried.
Suguru spread his legs wider around your hips and apparently the look he gave you - desire beneath the exhaustion - was enough. You warmed up the lube and started prepare him with your fingers.
The first finger went in easily, there was nothing but temporary discomfort, yet Suguru felt as if his skin were on fire, the stretching sensation tensing his legs. Familiar noises began to fill the room; three fingers pushed their way inside him and Suguru thought he was close to losing his mind. It felt good, very good. Your fingers opening inside him, making a wet noise each time they moved in and out of him, driving deep, rubbing his prostate. Suguru still wasn't hard, but he didn't care and he knew you didn't either.
He opened his mouth to beg for your cock, his throat dry. Only ineligible noises came out, a jumble of letters that didn't make sense along with your name. "Dema me ur psua [name]," he muttered. "[name] [name] [name]."
Somehow you got it, how could you not when Suguru was writhing in the sheets, feet tucked into the mattress working to sink against your fingers?
The tip of your cock pressed against the taut edge and began to thrust inside; thick, perfect. Suguru's eyes fell closed, a sound that was a mixture of wail and sigh left his lips and his back collapsed against the mattress, as if all the remaining strength left him.
There was barely any burn, but he still felt every nerve in his body ignite with the sensation of your length pushing its way inside him. The tight walls made way for you, his hole molding itself around you. Suguru searched for your lips like a starving man in the desert.
The sound of the waves as in a distant dream faded, taking with it the flashing memories of Riko Amanai, deeper, the smiling face of Haibara beckoning to him faded away into the darkness under his closed eyelids, only the wet sound of skins meeting was left, the grunts that came out of your mouth, the feel of your fingers digging into his thigh, the reality.
The shadows are gone, only an inexplicable calm remains.
Suguru's cock was limp against his stomach without any sign of coming out of it, even when you once again took him in your hand and started to stimulate him. It felt good, so Suguru didn't tell you to stop. He surrendered to you, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as you began to move, in and out of him, each time faster and stronger until you were fucking him mercilessly into the mattress in an uncomfortable position that pressed his knees close to his head.
One of your hands moved up his taut stomach and began pinching his nipples hard, eliciting groans from him. Suguru knew that the next day his nipples would be sensitive, his hole swollen and red, but he didn't care, in fact he wanted this desperately: to carry the marks of your belonging on his body, so that he could remember the heat, violence and control of your touches.
His hole tightened with rhythmic contractions, the feeling of being full, of having you filling him to the brim was too much. Suguru gasped against your mouth, barely finding the will to pull away from you, even if it was a mere kiss. He pulled your lower lip between his teeth and urged you to do the same, to take all your frustrations and tiredness out on his body. He needed this.
Words weren't necessary.
Your teeth sank into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood, your thrusts became faster and deeper, nails digging into his skin. Suguru knew how to make you hurt him and he knew you wouldn't stop if he didn't tell you to. All of him craved the pain and anything else you wanted to give him. The admission was a dark and heavy veil: Suguru was yours to take and he was broken.
Desperately, he mentally begged: please hurt me more. Hit me, scratch me, bite me, pull my hair harder, fuck me until I bleed, fill me up until I taste you in my throat. Make me feel. Remind me that I'm not alone.
So, let me guessâ you just started a new book, right? And youâre stumped. You have no idea how much an AK47 goes for nowadays. I get ya, cousin. Tough world we live in. A writerâs gotta know, but them NSA hounds are after ya 24/7. I know, cousin, I know. If there was only a way to find out all of this rather edgy information without getting yourself in troubleâŚ
Youâre in luck, cousin. I have just the thing for ya.
Itâs called Havocscope. Itâs got information and prices for all sorts of edgy information. Ever wondered how much cocaine costs by the gram, or how much a kidney sells for, or (worst of all) how much it costs to hire an assassin?
I got your back, cousin. Just head over to Havocscope.
((PS: In case youâre wondering, Havocscope is a database full of information regarding the criminal underworld. The information you will find there has been taken from newspapers and police reports. Itâs perfectly legal, no need to worry about the NSA hounds, cousin ;p))
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Cowboy || Boothill x G/N Child! Reader (PLATONIC) - Honkai Star Rail
After he had lost his precious daughter during the IPC attack on his planet, it was no surprise Boothill would be oddly overprotective over his dear ones. Especially over you.
You were a child much like Boothillâs daughter, but you being only a tad bit older since she was only a few months old at the time. Once you had came in, Boothill made a silent vow to himself that he would protect you like you were his child, not even letting you out of his sight for a second. He just didnât want to lose you like he lost his little girl is all!
Which was quite ironic as he had first met you through aiming his revolver at your head, thinking you were someone here to collect his bounty, only to see it was literally just a kid. He still remembers the way you almost passed out. Poor you.
So no wonder Boothill almost lost it when he noticed your tiny footsteps werenât heard behind him anymore, whatâs left of his heart instantly dropping.
Panic struck as he looked around frantically, cursing (or at least trying to) himself out for not keeping a closer eye on you while a million thoughts of what could possibly happen without his supervision on you raced through his head.
What if you had gotten seriously hurt?
What if somethingâor someoneâtook you?
What if you were stuck somewhere, stranded with a bunch of people you didnât even know?
It was odd to see the infamous Galaxy Ranger; Boothill getting all worked up and worried over some missing kid. Whyâd he care so much anyway? Was it something about you? Did he just oddly grow attached?
Or did he simply view you as someone he once cradled before it was snatched away from him abruptly?
âMr. Boothill!â
Instantly, Boothill stopped in his tracks, pausing his search for you and spinning his head towards the familiar small voice. There you were; all safe and sound, but with tears falling down your chubby cheeks as you raced over to him.
Boothill dropped to his metallic-like knees and caught you in his arms tightly, feeling your tight grip around his shoulders as you hugged him, burying your face into his shoulder.
âI told ya not to wander off, didnât I? To stay close to me? You couldâve gotten hurt all alone like that, you lilâ bratâŚâ Boothill would lightly scold you, standing up while lifting you in his arms, holding you close and pinching your cheek in a scolding matter.
His grip around you was tight as if he were worried that if he let goâyouâd vanish without a trace.
A hiccup left you in response, struggling to put your words together to which Boothill began to rub the small of your back as a way to calm you down, âI-I didnât mean toâŚ! I-I just really wanted that plushieâhiccupâover thereâŚ!â Boothill watched as your shaky finger tried pointing in the direction of the toy stand, pointing in the wrong direction in the process. But he still knew what you were referring to.
You were clearly referring to that cowboy plushie you spotted while you were walking with Boothill earlier, the one that you couldnât avert your gaze from which Boothill also called âjust a mini, knock-offâ version of him. Itâs quite obvious that you only wanted it because it reminded you of Boothill.
âBut-but when I looked back to you, you werenât there anymoreâŚ!â
You broke out in another fit of sobs, hugging his neck tighter, your cheeks all stained with your tears, and your nose stuffy. Your head was even beginning to throb from how much you were crying.
âYou mean that little cowboy you kept lookinâ at? You got your own real-life cowboy though, donât you?â
âNuh-uh! I want the plushie, so I can have two of you!â
At your silly words, Boothill had to bite his lip from letting out a snicker, knowing youâd probably get even more upset, and instead decided to indulge you, âFine, if you want it so bad that you nearly made me pop a screw, Iâll buy you it.â Boothill reassures, wiping that small tear threatening to slip down your cheek away with his cold hand. You can only sniffle and quietly nod in a meek way, rubbing your eyes.
Before Boothill can move however, you suddenly cupped his cheeks with your small hands which was pretty much the only part of his body he can feel you touch, causing him to pause and look down at you. You knocked your head against his and mumbled, âYouâre my real papa, BoothillâŚMy only papaâŚâ You ask with a small sniffle, patting his cheeks.
Boothill stood there, stunned for a brief second before he quickly regained his composure, and sent you a toothy smile that showed off his razor sharp teeth, âWhat a sweet lilâ thing you areâŚYou certainly got a way with words, donât you?â He ruffled your hair and placed his hat directly on your head to which it fell right over your eyes, causing you to quickly try and adjust it with a small yelp as Boothill made his way over to the stand you were whining about.
This time, he was sure he wasnât going to let you out of his sightâno matter how much you whine for him to let you run around. He already lost one kid of his, he canât lose another one.
clara and svarog 2.0 fr