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#cat beggar
themapleleafdiaries · 1 month
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you have food????
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angrylittleburd · 10 months
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You are a God damned chimera, you know that you son of a bitch? 
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rastronomicals · 5 months
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6:08 PM EST November 7, 2023:
The Rolling Stones - "Stray Cat Blues" From the album Beggars Banquet (December 6, 1968)
Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm
★★★★★
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quinttyz · 2 years
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precious mods….
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queer-for-science · 6 months
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thingsinspaaace · 11 months
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They hate each other but they love ham more
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catmask · 7 months
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cats will see u eating a single bagel and look at u like your a european monarch cackling eating every last shred of food while they a poor beggar boy go off and die at war for the kingdom of a god they no longer believe in
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Me to my older cat: Have you been a good boy today?
Heath: Me! I'm the good boy! The goodest boy! You should pet me because I've been such a good boy!
Me to my younger cat: And have you been a good boy today too?
Mars: I have been....a boy today. I'd like to talk to a lawyer if there are follow-up questions.
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anseltv · 9 months
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good morning folks
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fishylife · 1 year
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might try playing nintendogs...
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mytanuki-kun · 11 months
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Say you love me too
- ☆ - Gyutaro x Reader
- ☆ - !WARNING OF EXPLICIT CONTENT- 18+!
- ☆ - 11.7k
- ☆ - a/n: my first commission! if you're interested, let me know :3 If desperate, depraved men make you horny then this is for you ♧ - ☆ - tags: fem!reader ♧ stalking ♧ dubious-consent ♧ degrading language mixed with praises ♧ lots of humping ♧ oral f.recieving ♧ blood consumption ♧ body worship ♧ inexperienced!gyutaro ♧ pussy drunk ♧ multiple orgasms ♧ obsessive behaviour ♧ some bodily harm ie. scratching, biting ♧ minor descriptions of reader but it's one or two that you can ignore ♧
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  It was you again, the one who sang in the late hours of the night. Shining beneath the twinkling lights that illuminate your balcony, the sound of your hums and incessant melodies you could half remember disturbing his peace. A nightly ritual that he first caught through the notes in the wind, a distinct sound above the bustle of the entertainment district flowing down from the upper class to the raunchy buildings he hulked on top of— a beckoning call that led him to you.
    And what a pretty thing he discovered.
  Gyutaro was quickly enthralled, stealing whatever moment he could away from his sister and tasks his master bestowed to be within a few distances of your presence.
   Though you seemed odd to him at first, plump and pretty, yet incredibly odd. 
 You laughed loudly, cooed at the ugly cat that your mistress squealed to dispose of, and bundled your silks to donate them to the beggars— not even flinching when dirty hands held yours in gratitude. Gyutaro watched in astonishment, a contorted sort of envy choking him whenever you dismissed your mother when you shared your riches with the children that cowered in the alleys others turned their noses from.
 Your kindness was equalled by your beauty. A dirty, disgusting revelation that made the demon scowl— yet slink closer to you to hear your giggles towards the deformed cat you cared for so delicately. You were peculiar that way to him— caring for ugly things, embracing your servants whenever they came home safely, especially the younger workers. You giggled, huffed and joked— your every thought reflected in your expressions, confident and bold.
  Confident people made him itch. Hives prickled his flesh at the thought of them. Clawing at his chest whenever he caught the sight of a beaming smile, yours was somewhat different.
  Your smile was warm, inviting, and kind— and Gyutaro wanted it directed at him.
 The jealousy that slashed at his face was always momentarily forgotten whenever he heard your laugh. Heat burned, a sensation that made him whinge and hump the floor the first time it pooled in his belly. A rush of emotion that made him wither in agony— unfamiliar to the sensation between his legs, thoughts of you pouring into a frenzy after that first night he saw your naked body.
 You were an addictive infatuation that stole the better part of his night, a feverish desire. His obsession maddening his senses with every night your songs called him— but Gyutaro had been careful so far, painstakingly wary whenever your gaze scrutinised the dark anytime the shadows shifted.
 Though, it was never enough, he needed to be closer, feel your skin pressed against his— lay next to your body with your fingers tangled in his locks the way he imagined when he twisted in the nest of your belongings. Your favourite purple kimono warming his body the way blood did when it gushed down his throat— you were a new craving he was powerless to ignore, a yearning that pulled him to your balcony and rummaged your drawers whenever you left so he could steal a piece of you he wished to caress. 
 Rubbing his tongue on the fabric of your panties, savouring the wayward strands of your hair from your hairbrush, and peering into your bathing room to touch your most intimate things.
  He couldn’t help himself; it was his favourite pastime, lurking around the corner of your mini hot springs, peaking at the droplets that rolled down your back into your ass. Watching you scrub your body and sink into the warm waters after a long day of whatever it was that made rich life difficult. Soaking your plump figure in essential oils that made his head swim, caressing the softness of your curves that drooled slick from his cock. It was your fault his dick hurt, your fault he had to relieve the burn with hard strokes on his hardened shaft, slicked with spit rather than your pussy— fucking the tight grip of his fist with his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. It was all your fault when he rolled his fist around the reddened tip to smooth the wetness along his length, thin veins pulsing for the contact of a wet cunt only to settle for his hand that could never mimic the suction of your pussy. It was worse whenever you moaned as if that didn't leak beads of cum from his tip, forcing him to hunch over to fuck his hand and end the torment of heated blood coursing through his veins.
   He loathed it— yet loved you.
 The spoiled life, the content sighs. 
It was an odd contradiction Gyutaro did not pay too much attention to, lest it distracted him from you. He just— just needed to be in you. In your skin, in your flesh, inside your body. He needed to feel you. All of you. So much it had him drooling into your clothes as he fucked the plushy cushions of the pillows he stole from you.
   Your scent was everywhere but inside him.
 It drove him wild. Mad, unhinged enough to ignore a kill and follow you home instead, slashing any man that looked your way and causing a scene Daki had chastised him for. 
     It did not matter anymore.
  Now finally, after weeks of sneaking and stalking, of humping and whining— he could not stand the distance between you anymore.
 Tonight was going to be a special one as he watched you from afar yet again, crouching behind a roof bannister with the shadows cloaking him from your sight. Utterly oblivious to the stench of death and decay a few yards away— but how could you be when you spent your life sheathed in the warmth and comforts of wealth scented by florals? You had no idea of the scabs that melted flesh or the starvation that would force a person to rip the meat off their friend, only to coat their dry tongue with that moisture. With your easy smile that slanted too few frowns, you still lived above those lowly creatures that washed your clothes and bowed when you walked past.
 A pretty princess sitting high on her pedestal; the sight of you twisted a thirst in his belly, and your scent— your sweet, lavender-like fragrance that masked your natural essence pulsing in your veins made him dizzy. Even your blood was high class. Clean, healthy. He could smell it from across the way— hear the rhythmic thump of your heartbeat when he closed his eyes and focused on your presence. You were delicious in every sense of the word— to consume you would appease the churning hunger most demons found insatiable— it would quench the bloodlust you triggered. Yet, you were still alive, singing your pretty songs no matter how many scars bled under his nails— because strangely enough, your death would only upset him.
 To eat you would mean the end of your song— the demise of your smile— Gyutaro would never hear your laughter again. This nightly ritual of stalking your balcony would cease, and there would be nothing else to look forward to, nothing to heat the blood in his core. You were privileged, beautiful, and a creature he admired so much that the thought of killing you disappointed him. 
   You were too precious for death, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little taste.
 “Pretty, pretty”, he sang, matching your melody, that familiar burn in his abdomen he recently discovered to be lust rising whenever he sat downwind from you— from the alluring scent that filled his core with hot blood, coursing down to his cock until it ached between his legs. A delicious ache that had him squirming, whinging into his fist to stave off the urge to devour you. To sink his teeth into that smooth, delectable-looking skin that made him scar his own, fuck, he could not sit there any longer.
 But he had to wait, sit tight until all the lights went out and you were alone. Isolated, vulnerable.
  For now, he merely listened to the song you hummed while brushing your hair, the afflictions in your tone hypnotising the demon that picked at his ears simply so he could hear you sing that much sweeter; as if he could not bear to miss a note of your song. “She's so close”, he murmured, feeling the pulse of his sex rub against his thigh. “Ne-need to-to—” He knew the word, knew the act and the mechanics of it, he watched women here work enough times to understand the basics— yet the thought of you writhing and moaning sent him into a rage, humping the thin cotton of his pants to imitate the sensations.
  He laid his cheek against his arm, staring hungrily upon your little smile when you could glide your fingers smoothly through the strands, his crooked fingers mimicking the movement, imagining the softness that would brush along his marred skin. Envy curled a sneer until his flushed cock brushed along the rough panel of the roof a little too harshly, his hips unable to stop their thrusting as he watched you undress for the night.
   “Fuck, fuck!”
  Gyutaro felt hot, agitated— restless.
 He was so— so close to you, but there was also a woman in the room setting your bed for the night and several lights flickering in the manor. He did not want to go through the trouble of spilling blood, creating a mess that would draw too much attention— he refused to see a tear on your cheek that he did not personally inflict. That meant patience and stealth until—
 “Thank you, you can go now”.
     Yes.
 The woman smiled, bowed her head, and left the room. Taking the candle with her to illuminate her path down the hall— one by one, the other bedroom lights snuffed out, and the manor fell still for the night. Gyutaro waited, chewing on his bottom lip as the anticipation stirred. He listened closely, waiting for the whispers of the servants to dissipate in the walls until he made his move.
 He stood and leapt across the roof, landing soundlessly on your balcony railing. Gyutaro hid his weapons, hunching his shoulders as he crawled to the doors, clicking them open, eyes glowing, smile leering.
   Oh...
 You were right there, nestled in your covers, breathing even and soundless, expression soft. Gyutaro could see you as clearly as if the moon shone directly on your delicate features, a dreamlike glow illustrated for him. For his eyes only. The same eyes that analysed you carefully as the demon crawled to your side, peering so close he could feel your gentle breaths part your lips and warm his face. He hummed, shuddering from the sensation. Your body was warm— emitting a heat that welcomed him, coercing him to finally have his touch. 
    His first touch.  
 The demon raised his hand, crooked fingers twitching mid-air, nervousness swallowing his breaths, inching closer and closer until a crooked finger pressed on your cheek.
  Gyutaro moaned a throaty sound that slinked his body on top of yours, hunching and hovering above your sleeping figure— careful not to disturb you as he palmed your cheek with a tenderness he didn’t know he could express to a human.
  “I’m touching her”, he gasped, sighs of wonder fanning your face, “she’s so soft”.
 His entire palm engulfed your cheek, claws gently grazing your hair as he shook to keep himself steady and not fall on you from sheer excitement. It was as if the contact shot kindles of pleasure through him, tingling his body with sensations that had him keening— desperate to feel more. So he peeled back your covers, exposing you to his hunger-blazed eyes and the grin that stretched his face, your pretty figure vulnerable and at his mercy. 
  Finally...
 Quitely and ever so carefully, Gyutaro lowered himself down on top of you— gangly limbs outstretched and smothering your body, his erection pressing on your belly as he settled his weight on you. “ohh”, he mewled, nestling his nose into your soft hair, “so warm”.
 For one blissful, serene moment, Gyutaro was embraced, and it felt safe.
  “AHH—”
 He stifled your scream with a rough hand, shushing you by squeezing your face painfully and stilling your thrashing limbs with his superior strength. “Don’t scream, I— ohhh, wow, ahhh- that’s so nice”, he grunted, cock jerking from the friction.
 You fought against him in your panic, panting and withering in a pitiful attempt to free yourself from his grip but only managing to make him moan — rashly pushing your thighs between his legs and accidentally rubbing against the heated bulge that had him thrusting his hips into you. “fe-feels good, pretty”, he panted, rolling his hips in time with your thrashing, “keep- yeah, ohhh, ohh, fu-uck, ple-please don’t stop”. His grip flexed over your mouth, masking the shouts as he humped you roughly with his pants scratching against your naked skin. His strength was too much for your human body, even when his bony hips pressed into your plushy curves— the softness was too arousing to stop. “‘m sorry, so-so sorry- It’s not my fault”, Gyutaro lied through clenched teeth, his smirk too wide as he attempted to calm you, “shh, don’t-don’t cry, nghh- you make my- ahh, ahh- my cock feel s-so good, I-I can’t help it”.
  Gyutaro's movements were clumsy, only chasing the contact of your bare thighs withering into his fat bulge, the softness better than the pillows he fucked in the dark. But it was okay— he didn’t need them anymore, never again— you were here now, crying and pulsing with hot blood he could feel through the loose garment of his pants— sweat beading on his brow from the contact of your body flush against his. You were better than anything he had ever imagined— you touched him, excited him— all those nights of watching you sleep as he fucked his fist over your face were nothing compared to your pillowy thighs squishing on his shaft. Even with his pants in the way, the friction was too delicious to stop, blindly rutting into your body as you fought for control against a demon that was helpless against his own desires.
 To him, you made the sweetest sounds. Intangible noises puffed while you fought against the creature crushing you. “You make my dick feel so good”, he whined loudly, “imma put it in you later— it’ll feel so good inside, but jus’ wanna feel you now, jus’ a bit”. Gyutaro cried your name through his groans, revelling in your choked sobs that smeared his palm, inhaling the aromatic scent of your fear. 
  You heaved, shoved and bucked your hips into him, unintentionally driving the demon to mutter profanities and desperate noises as he quickly neared a depraved release he could not control. Not when your tits pushed on his chest like that— not when your soft thighs squished on his sex, and you gazed at him with wide, glistening eyes watching him use your body for his own pleasure. His satisfaction, his fulfilment. A selfish, perverse desire that dribbled from his tip and dampened his pants so much you could feel the slick rub on your thighs.
  “You feel so-so warm”, he groaned, humping your sweet body frantically, “can’t wa-wait to fu-uuck you, pretty girl. Bet you so wet and hot, hot-hot— ahh, yes, touch me! Right th-there, jus’ like that! You make my-my dick hurt, pretty. You’re so-soo pretty”.
  Gyutaro trembled, cock heavy, wet and incredibly sensitive. You only stimulated it further with your jerks, muffled pleas drowning as he salivated above you— eyes wild with lust, his hips reflected in their frantic jerks. “Cum, cum, cum!” He squealed, hunching over you as he fucked your thighs. His belly fluttered, “I’mma cum! Ohh, ple-ee lemme cum on you”. Hard strokes on your thighs had him whining on top of you, rubbing his cock until it hurt— until his back arched, his teeth clenched in his jaw, and ropes of milky cum spilled from his flushed tip.
 “ahh, fuck— no, no!” He cried, trembling through his pathetic orgasm as threads of cum splatter all over his pants, “No! sh-hit, ple-no! No!” Gyutaro rocked into you desperately, shaking through an orgasm that ruined his lap and warmed your thighs, a pitiful sight as he blubbered dejectedly, “I rui-ruined it— stupid- stupid! Wanted to cum on your pretty thighs, shit-shit-shit!” He panted through clenched teeth, shame curling from the sticky residue coating his dick that already began to cool— taking a moment to calm his erratic palpitations before yellow eyes fixated down at you with a smile that made your belly flutter.
  “hush, hush”, he purred, rolling his hips into your body lazily, “I’m not gon’ hurt you, precious. Relax”.
  He held you down tighter, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck in his attempt to calm you— but really, it was a selfish indulgence to kiss you. Though his kisses were messy, wet pecks of his lips across the expanse of your neck and shoulder, whispering endearing praises as he pressed you into the mattress, until eventually, your struggles ceased.
  Gyutaro paused, lifting his head to see the fight leave your eyes, chest heaving from the effort of your pathetic struggle. For a moment, the two of you only stared, laboured breathing shared between you as he lay an inch from your face. He noted every twitch and form of your expression— a mixture of dread and something close to curiosity gaping back at him, drowning in the amber of his eyes as you wondered about the creature looming over you with sticky cum coated between you.
 But you weren’t disgusted, not in any way Gyutaro could sense.
You were frightened, rightfully so, confused, naturally, violated, of course— but not revolted. Not outraged or sickened. You seemed... perplexed. Horrified yet fascinated, your heart thumping so loudly he could feel it against his chest.
 That was uncommon for him— you were being odd again.
Gyutaro peered at you a little longer, sliding his sharp eyes over you— and then he released you— swiftly crawling back away from your bed to stare at you from the corner in the familiarity of the shadows, curiously peering through the dark where it was safe, away from you. And to his wonderment, you didn’t scream again— you sat up and stared.
   Neither of you said a word.
 The air was stilted, the manor was noiseless, and the room was deathly sombre. You didn’t scream, insult, or chastise his actions, something Gyutaro paid extra attention to, anxiously waiting for the crying and hurtful rejections he was used to— yet none came.
 This silence was unnatural. It unsettled him and created an awful pit in his stomach; it made his cock ache. Gyutaro held his breath, listening to the thud of your heartbeat for any indication of your next move, only for you to ask in a soft voice;
  “Are you the one who has been following me?”
 Gyutaro nodded, albeit taken aback by your calmness, while he shuffled in his soiled pants, “You- you noticed?”
  “Not at first”, you whisper, fixating on the glow of his mix-matched coloured eyes and the recognition of their intensity. “But I could hear you sometimes when I was alone”. 
  “Humans usually can’t tell”.
You fidgeted with the wet patch that seeped on your nightgown, “I...had a feeling”, you say, oddly calm, “I could feel it most nights, like tonight”.
 “What kind of feeling?” His voice was breathless, eager— you thought about him too, noticed him in the dark? Anticipated his arrival? He pressed you for answers, “When?”
  You flinched, “I-I don’t know. Like, a cold shadow on my back. The smell of blood, but—”
  “But what?”
 “It— you—” With a stabilising breath, you answered honestly, “You felt sad kind of. It was a lonely feeling, a miserable one, stuck to my shadow. As if— as if I was dragging it everywhere. At first, I thought I was imagining it— but then, I saw you”.
 His breath hitched, a sort of anxiety mixed with shame.
 “I saw you, at the hot springs— I thought I heard something in pain, like a cat or something. So when I went to check, you were there hunched over and fidgeting. I thought you were hurt, but then you made a noise”. Your face flushed from the memory, “I ran back to the bath, I don’t think you noticed— you were…preoccupied. But ever since then, I noticed the smell would be in my room, and my stuff would go missing”.
 Gyutaro chuckled nervously, clawing at his cheek in embarrassment, unaware of how the skin tared and bled until he saw you cringe when the flesh hung from his face in red streaks. He stopped. His face healed rapidly, your eyes widening as you watched the tissue repair itself so efficiently.
  “What are you?”
  He shook his head, “You’d scream if I told you”.
 “I haven’t screamed yet”, you answer plainly, which was true— you hadn’t so much as demanded he leave or even cried about his dirty humping— so when he confessed what he was, the word demon thickened the tension, and your heart skipped a beat.
   “Oh…”
  You stare even longer this time. Analysing the demon through the darkness it slinked into to avoid the scrutiny, the undivided attention of your stare made Gyutaro squirm. No one has ever looked at him this long without a word.
  Gyutaro could feel your gaze run across his body— so in a moment of bravery, he stood tall— using his power to flicker the candle on your nightstand, allowing the fiery shadows to dance across his form for your viewing pleasure, and though his shoulders hunched the way they usually did, he was still a hulking monster. A powerful one, emitting the aura of his might and blinking at the way you shuddered from it.
   He was grotesque, strong, beastly— and you still stared. Silent.
 A demon with glowing eyes, blemished skin and rippled muscle that disappeared past his broad chest. The rest of him was gangly, wretched, with protruding hips and sagging clothes.
  You still had not said a word, wide-eyed and clutching on your covers, the scent of disgust non-existent, or at the very least smothered by the overwhelming fear that made his cock weep. 
 Gyutaro whimpered. He could hear how your heart stuttered as you raked your eyes over his body, unintentionally searing him with the memories of cruel words and prickling feelings of inadequacy of another woman's judgement— pulling him out of the comfort of your scent and into the jeering ghosts of dead hecklers. He didn’t like the attention, the way your gaze wandered without disdain or horror— it was too exposing, intimate.
  Panic began to rise, a jittery sort of alarm that brimmed heavy tears filled with murderous rage— a violence plagued by old wounds no amount of demon blood could heal. He was despicable, disfigured— dirty. Gyutaro sobbed, sinking into his knees when the shame overpowered his fury.
 “Don’t look at me!” he cried, startling you. He did not deserve to be looked at, not with your pretty eyes. Gyutaro cowered behind his hands, nonsense whines of his insecurities coming out in high-pitch cries as he wrecked his face bloody.
  He had to fix it, destroy it— mutilate and disfigure it.
 Claws hacked off the skin that made him seethe. His flesh peeled in sickening squelches, “Don’t lo-look! Don’t look!” He sobbed, tears and blood blotching his face, pouring out of his wounds and staining the wooden floors of your bedroom as he crouched into a pathetic fetal position— unaware of how you scruffled out of covers and inched towards him.
  “Ugly! Dis-disgusting! Ugly, ugly!”
 He was pitiful, hideous— blood streamed down his cheeks as he slashed, ripped and mauled his skin, “need-need to-to fix it!”.
 “no, no, don’t cry— stop hurting yourself”, you whispered in what you hoped sounded comforting, cringing as you patted his head awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to stare”.
 Gyutaro snatched your hand, your shout being ignored as he cradled his bloodied face with your warmth, using your hand to comfort himself the way you so foolishly offered to the crying demon. He babbled and sobbed into your palm, pressing kisses that were more tongue than lips. This felt right. You were holding him, consoling him— worrying about him. You were warm, and you shared it with him.
 Gyutaro calmed instantly. His skin repaired rapidly again, the torn flesh dissolving from the floor, but not before your hand was coloured in his sticky blood. You flinched and squirmed in his hold, but not enough to fight back or free yourself from his grip. Instead, you hummed to him, doing your best to minimise the noise of the distressed demon snivelling in your hand.
  “I-it’s okay, shhh”, you reassured him, heart in your throat, “d-don’t cry”.
 The sobs eventually subside, hiccups softening as he licked your hand clean, murmuring apologies into your soft palm.
  “I’m so’rry, im’m ‘orry”.
  “shhh, there, there— you’re not, I meant—”, you sighed, struggling to find the words, “you just surprised me. I-I’ve never met anyone like you”.
  “‘orry, ‘m sorry”, he sighs, pressing another kiss to your palm before releasing you, and then feeling a pang in his chest when you scruffle back to the comfort of your blankets at the other side of the room— away from his reach. Gyutaro simpered, lowering his arms and flexing his fists to mimic the warmth he lost.
 When his sniffles seize— you find the strength to continue, “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to meet you”, he says, fiddling with his dirty pants sadly.
  “Okay…”, your eyes darted towards the door, “you met me, c-can I leave?”
 His head tilted to the side, brows furrowed as he considered your words curiously— as if he was unable to understand why you would want to leave. Seconds ticked past, indicated by the slow drip of the candle that glowed your face in a pretty golden light before he snapped out of his daze, and his crooked smile tugged his lips.
 “No, no you can’t”.
   “Why not?”
 “Because— because you belong to me now”, he said sweetly, as sweet as a rasp could sound, “I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry”.
  “What’s your name?” you ask tentatively after a beat.
 He pauses momentarily, eyeing you carefully before responding, “Gyutaro”. He tries not to shudder when you whisper his name back to him— he’s never heard it said so delicately before. As if you breathed life into it.
  “How-how old are you?”
He blinks at the question, then eventually shrugs, “stopped counting— only notice the bodies now”.
 “...Bodies?”
“The ones I eat”, he said with a giggle, scratching his cheek again.
  “Are—”, your breath hitched, trying to force the words out, “are you go-ing to kill m-me?”
 His laughter startled you, a high staccato flutter that started from his throat and stretched his grin, “No, no, silly! I jus’ wan’to taste you”.
  “Taste?” You squeaked, shuffling away from his reach and banging against the wall.
 He nodded, curls bouncing in excitement when your eyes dilated. “Your skin, your legs— the tasty smell right there”, he pointed between your thighs. “Wan’ to taste it all”.
  “Why?”
 He frowned, “why? cause you smell nice”, he answered as if that was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. “Cause you’re pretty”.
 “And that’s-that’s why you’ve been following me?”
He nodded, his smile somewhat endearing, “I’ve never met anyone so pretty before”.
 Your heart stuttered again, making him smile that much wider as he watched you curl your knees up to your chest protectively. “Thank you”, the words come out in a soft breath, startling even yourself as the emotions flicker in your eyes.
   Dread, apprehension, exhilaration.
 Gyutaro slinked towards you, the flutter of your heartbeat calling to him as he inched closer and closer until he lay at your feet, peering up at you with glowing eyes. “Can I have my taste now?” 
 You gawked at him, “you’re asking me?”
“It won’t hurt”, he pleaded, big eyes shining, “I promise”.
  “B-but…you eat people?”
“Yes”.
  “An-and you’ll eat me?”
  “No, no—” he shook his head fiercely, a conviction as strong as any other, “I would never, not you. Promise ”.
  “Why?” the apprehension twists, reflecting in your voice, “I don’t understand, you want to taste me— you’re a demon, an-and you eat other people— I—” You huff, tears beading as the fear palpitates in your chest, “You’re asking me such-such a thing—”
  “I said I wouldn’t!” He scowled, gripping your leg to keep you close when you tried to flee, ignoring your wince when his hold clenched tight. “I’ll take it—” he hissed, “I’ll rip your dress an-an’— shi-hit !” The words failed him, frustrations seeping with the idle chatter when the scent of you was clinging to his skin.
  “And fuck me?” He nodded eagerly. It was crude; the word felt dirty and foreign on your tongue, rising bile up your throat— yet it excited you. A dirty, shameful thrill Gyutaro could hear with your every breath as the demon yelped and moaned, licking the exposed skin of your leg, long tongue trailing slick up your flesh until he reached the hem of your nightie. He could smell it now, the wetness that made your thighs clench and allowed him to lick the smooth skin of your inner thigh, strings of saliva coating the plushy fat as his head disappeared under the dress.
   “Stop, now ”.
 You watched him cry again from the rejection, a desperate sound coming from the most unlikely creature as he parted your shaky legs wider and settled between them, the addictive scent of your pussy luring him to push further. Gyutaro could see how you wanted to deny him— when you shrank from his touch and glanced wistfully towards the door. Yet you sunk into the mattress anyway, weakly nudging at his shoulders as if that would stop his advancement. Mumbling no's and please's that sounded weaker than the soft breeze from the window. He purred from the revelation— you liked it. Your halfhearted protests, your gasped sighs, and your twitches were telling enough. You wanted this, wanted him.
 Though, your rejections still swelled his cock, a degrading attraction making him feel small in front of you despite the power imbalance— blindingly seeking your approval when he knew he had the strength to crush you. It was rousing; you truly were precious.
  “Stop”.
 “No”. He sounded firmer, authoritative, sure of himself now that Gyutaro knew how much you liked it when he pressed his tongue on your clothed cunt.
  “I’ll scream”, you eye him carefully, tensing your thighs against his head when his nose bumps against your clit, “I-I’ll call for help”.
 “I’ll rip your throat”, he murmured, busying himself with the panties obscuring his prize, fingers digging painfully into your legs to keep them steady as he ripped the fabric with his teeth. “I’ll kill anyone that walks through that door”. Gyutaro inhaled the tattered cloth, groaning loud as you watched him tongue the wet stain that held your pussy seconds ago. “ Fuck, mmm— I can hear them all in their rooms. I can hear your mistress with the cook”. His eyes gleamed, “Can we make that noise too?”
 You squirmed, confused with his calmness when he spent the majority of the night crying and whinging. “Then why ask me?”
 He shrugged, pocketing your panties as he struggled to find the words. “You make me sickish—” he confessed awkwardly, his scratchy voice contradicting the timidity of his words. “You look at me, an’ I hate it, an’ I wan’ you to never stop. You’re so pretty an’ you look at me”, he breathed, “It makes me crazy, makes me wanna eat you, breathe you in, be inside you. Wan’ to have you on me, all over. You smell so fuckin’ good it makes me dizzy. I-I can’t think with you. I wan’to take and hurt and fuck, but make you look at me. Say yes to me, jus’ once. I-I wan’ you to feel me”.
 The words were lost to you. Gyutaro palmed his erection as he gauged your reaction, nervousness and lust buzzing in his core as he stroked his hardened shaft through his wet pants. Your chest heaved, tits bouncing with your heavy breaths, eyes wide, and mouth parted into a small o he imagined spreading with his cock. You were staring again, thighs open and fingers clenching the covers with the demon looming above. Gyutaro shivered at the sight of you. You were a dream, and you were looking at him, just like he wanted.
 “You make me so hard, pretty”, he sighed, when you said nothing, “an’ ’m gon’ fuck you, ‘kay? ‘it’s gonna feel good, or not, I dunno, we'll try together”. Gyutaro crouched back between your thighs, taking the time to caress every inch of your skin with his tongue, wet kisses shining where his lips touched. Up your feet— your calf, to your knee, and then switch to give your other leg the same attention. His lips were chapped, feeling rough against you, but even with his strength, Gyutaro held you delicately. Like a precious doll— all his and at his mercy.
 You were stunned, terrified and captivated by him— sighing while bucking your hips whenever his erection pressed against you, gasping when his hands gripped your hips with the claws piercing your flesh. It was a dance of control— Gyutaro’s gentleness not to break you and your heated attraction to the demon that moaned from your touch. It was exhilarating for you both, a charged tension neither of you could deny. Though Gyutaro was not denying anything, he knew what he wanted— what he hungered for, and it coursed through your body with a melodic beat.
  “Will it hurt?” the question escapes, wincing when his teeth nick your thigh.
 “Do you wan’ it to?” His words were muffled, suckling on the trickling blood with pleasure building, “mmm, your blood’s’so good ”. He needed more.
  Gyutaro didn’t hear your response, not when he clamped his jaws into your flesh unexpectedly, smothering your scream with his other hand as he swallowed the rush of blood that poured from the wound— Gyutaro moaned deeply, eyes rolling as the hot liquid burned his throat. It was bliss, an ecstasy better than any substance as it flowed into his veins, pumping into every muscle and tendon and feeling it fuel his power. His pleasured mewls tugged you closer, lost in the cadence of your pulse beneath his fingertips. 
 “Delicious”, he cooed, lips stained red. Gyutaro flickered his tongue against the wound, shivering from your croaks of pain as he pinned you down to have his fill. Holding you tight, drinking in your essence and allowing it to warm his belly in all the ways the demon dreamt as you twitched beneath him, clenching on the sheets as you cried under his palm— until a warm rush of euphoria tingled your body as his saliva healed the torn skin.
 Your body melted into the bedding, a low hum purring from your throat as the pain softened into a dull throb infusing you with a warmth that misted your vision— throwing the room into a spin. It became hard to decipher anything past the gentle kisses he pressed into the healing wound.
 Gyutaro smirked, watching your eyes roll in bliss as his tongue smoothed the teeth’ indents— only pierced your thigh enough for the blood to freely seep for him to have his fill. And as the saliva did its work— he pressed his face into your pussy, inhaling deeply, releasing your mouth to grip your hips and squeeze the supple curves in his greedy hands. “fuck, you’re like a dream”, his husky groans pulsated against your sex— a sound infused with the urges that made his promises come out hoarse as Gyutaro swore to take care of you. To make you feel good— that a pretty girl like you deserved the world, and he intended to give it to you. All breathed into your bare cunt that drooled on his tongue, hungrily licking your wet folds.
  “G-gyutaro?”
 He keened at the sound of your voice like a cat seeking affection, “say my name again”, he pleaded, teasing your pussy lips with idle strokes of his tongue. Savouring the taste as if it were an exquisite meal. 
 Your fingers tangled in his locks, tugging and twisting his head up from your thighs, listening to his mewls from the discomfort as you seized control over your trembles. Doing your best to not succumb to his coercive touches despite the drunken fog his healing gave you. Every kiss and caress tingled through your core, shallow breaths indicating how your fear began to dissipate as the fascinations kindled, especially when he cooed praises into your cunt.
  “Gyutaro”, you whispered delicately, “Use your words, tell me what you want?”
“Your pussy”, he panted, swiping his bottom lip of your blood, “your ass too”.
  “Have you ever—”
“No, no— but you jus’-”, Gyutaro sighed heavily, fidgeting with the nestle of blankets rubbing on his clothed dick as your hot blood rushed to his core. “I can’t help it. You tasted delicious, better than anythin’. You’re so close, an’ I can hear your blood, the pulse on your pussy. She's calling to me. I can hear it, smell how wet you are”. His desperation cracked his voice, “I wan’ to taste more— so so bad. I’ll use my tongue on you, make it good, fuck you nice”.
 You swallow your nerves, a sick smile twitching at the sight of him, “what if I say no?” He freezes, and you clench your grip on his hair and yank him up to meet your eye, “what if I tell you to leave?”
  Fuck, his cock throbbed when you pulled his hair, “I’ll take you with me”, he rasped, “I wan’ be good for you, but I’ll take it. Make it hurt so good no one will touch you again. Ruin you. Wreck you,” he smiled sinfully, flashing his teeth, “have you ever been fucked?”
 What a dirty question that came from the cruellest eyes brimmed with tears— it made him look pitifully adorable. He was ugly, disfigured and murderous, and Gyutaro still sighed and kissed your leg, waiting for your answer.
 “No”.
“No you’ve never been fucked”, his claws dug painfully into your skin, “or no I can’t taste your pussy?”
 “No”.
 Gyutaro shuddered, “my cock hurts whenever you say no”. He leered, “wanna feel it?”.
  “...No”.
 He smirked, moaning softly for you, “you’re dirty too”, a statement that had you twisting his hair again to make him yelp. Gyutaro snickered. You were intoxicating— more than he could have hoped. “do’ya like it when I say that? That I watch you bathe and touch my cock thinkin’ of you?” He tilted his head, "Is that why you haven’t called for help?” You said no again, though it was a much more breathy sound as if the lie could not form quick enough. Gyutaro giggled over your blush, “pretty girl is nasty”, he sang merrily, “pretty girl wants to be fucked by a demon”. His laughter grew, bold enough to run his hands over your belly, following up to your tits, calloused fingers stroking the soft breasts as he marvelled at how you shivered from his touch.
 “Is that what you want?” He mused, practically vibrating from glee as he groped you, “to be fucked? I know y’like when I touch you”, crooked fingers rubbed on your nipples, relishing in your gasps as he kneaded your tits like a depraved teen. “I can smell it. Your heart does a lil’ pat pat when I get closer. Ahh-haha”, he crooned, grinding his bulge against your leg only so he could hear you prove his point. “See? Nasty girl likes it, wan’ me to fuck you. Fuck you hard, mm? y’like it hard? When it hurts an’ makes your legs shake? I see other girls cry from it, but you’re prettier than the other girls. Your crying would be beautiful. But I’ll try to be gentle”, he smirked, relishing in your drumming heartbeat over his nasty words, confidence building with every pinch of your soft tits. “I never fucked anyone before”, he says with a faux sigh, crooked teeth peaking from the smile, “but I heard men talk about it before, how to make a pussy wet”, His eyes glowed tauntingly, “I did that, I made you wet”. Gyutaro sniggered playfully, a wicked gleam replacing the tears that shined in his eyes earlier, a dark contrast that made you wince much to his delight. “that’s dirty, princess”.
  “No, I—”
 He shushed you gently anyway, patting your cheek and coercing your grip off his hair— then yanked you harshly towards him, “I wish you could smell it, how delicious you are— feel how badly my cock hurts for you. No one's ever done that before, makes you special, princess”. He grinned sickeningly, looming over you, ignoring your huffs of protest that smacked at his chest as he ripped your nightie, “I heard that you like nice people, so I wanted to be nice, be good for you, try and make you happy”. Though the niceties were straining his patience. Gyutaro tore through your clothes until you lay beneath him, bare and vulnerable. The picture of all his desires. “I jus’ wan you, precious. I can't help myself anymore”.
  Gyutaro didn’t wait for your answer this time; he hauled you up by your thighs and settled them on his shoulders— bending you in half with a strength you couldn’t fathom before his mouth captured your pussy. Licking and slurping on your cunt like a man starved— his smile pressing on your flesh as you jerked from the touch of his slinky tongue stroking your folds, gasping from the wetness that smeared your slit with his messy pussy eating. You moaned for him, the sound of it tingling his spine— Gyutaro ate your pussy feverishly just to hear that sound again. And you graced him with more.
  “St-stop, ahh, st-ahh”.
 He didn’t, knowing you did not mean a word of it and not caring about your objections anyway. Instead, Gyutaro grew wilder— rutting his tongue all over your cunt with skills he didn’t possess, only grunting, rubbing and flicking the hot muscle on your outer lips. Suckling on your clit. The taste of your pussy elicited his own little mewls that vibrated against your skin and had you trembling— gripping the sheets below you as you struggled to swallow the shameful moans the demon coerced with his sharp tongue.
  “Gyu! ple- you-you can’t”, your moans choked like the lies they were, pleading him to stop and slow down when your cunt betrayed you by staining his mouth with sticky fluids. But you couldn't like it, he was— “You’re—”. You couldn't finish a word or even a thought without a little whine stumbling.
 Gyutaro ravished you, sharp teeth scraping against you accidentally until it leaked tiny trickles of blood, mixing with the fluids that seeped from your cunt— creating a dick jerking mixture that heated his core. His eyes rolled as he slathered it on his tongue, drinking it all in with your soundless gasps. Gyutaro couldn’t focus past your cunt, not when the smell wafted through him— arousal humming into his abdomen and churning lust straight down to his neglected cock drooling into his pants.
  “st-ahh, hur-hurts! Gyu!”
 He only nodded in acknowledgement— flattening his tongue and massaging broad strokes on your puffy folds to heal the cuts. “A lil’ salty”, he muttered into your wet lips, “but sweet”. He licked your pussy again, humming to himself cheerfully. “y’taste good, pretty. Like a treat all for’me”, Gyutaro slurped loudly, devouring your cunt with his whole face, jutting his chin into your hole, bumping his nose into your clit, his cheeks glistening with the mess you soaked on his face as he ate like a starved mutt— groaning into your cunt as if it were the only meal to ever coat his tongue.
 “Ohh, fu-uck, yes! ple-ease, gyu- ahh, ahh”, you cried, babbles of his name mixed with your mewls. A melody better than any song— any sound, only slightly louder than his guttural moans. Especially with the tiny beads of blood dribbling wherever his teeth pierced your flesh, only for him to kiss it better, swallowing the hot liquid and healing you rapidly with his saliva. Pain and pleasure moulding into one, keeping you steady by holding your ass— rubbing your pudgy cheeks appreciatively, the fat filling his palms in big handfuls. 
  You squirmed, rocked and sighed as a coil tightened in your belly— a sensation too intense you attempted to cinch your thighs to run from it, but Gyutaro squeezed your ass and pulled you deeper into his face. Your pleas were ignored, and the coil pressed harder, tighter— “Gyu! Wa-wait!” It snapped and your orgasm surged.
 “‘er so wet”, he rasped, murmuring praises as wetness splashed his tongue, slurping on your squirts of release, speaking directly into your pussy as if the flutters of your hole and spews of slick were answers to his jabbers. “‘ure beauti-ful. mmm, jus’ like that. s’good, good girl. makn’ a mess on me”. It was everything for him to touch you like this, and Gyutaro savoured every ounce of it, of your scent, blood and flesh as you panted. Exploring your hole, forcing his tongue inside a little just to see how tight you were— and when he felt the resistance— how your walls squeezed on the muscle, he almost came untouched. He pushed in deeper, pre-cum dripping from his flushed tip as he felt the tight rings of your pussy clamp on his tongue from the overstimulation. Shit.
 “Turn ‘round”, Gyutaro demanded, putting you back down— breaths shallow, eyes wild and bloodshot, licking his lips watching you turn to your hands and knees on shaky limbs.
  “W–what’re— Gyu! Oh, fu-ahh, not-not there! Tha-that’s dir-ohh, ple- such a goo’ boy. Fe-eels so good, hun”.
 He tittered from the praise, burying his tongue into your ass with your fat cheeks spread— he licked, suckled and kissed, listening to your moans turn non-verbal. Gyutaro humped the sheets, chasing an orgasm that fluttered in his belly while gliding his tongue into your puckered hole, his cock jolting from the tightness squeezing on him. Your walls twitched as he fucked you with harshed thrusts of his tongue, pushing at your ass until your head fell into the pillows, smothering your helpless cries.
His suspicions were confirmed— your ass was tighter, but your pussy was wetter— warmer— and he needed both. He leaned back, and your gasps stifled when he flipped you effortlessly.
   “‘m gonna fuck you now”, he rasped hungrily, his words not up for debate. Gyutaro watched you nod timidly, but there was nothing timid about that dazed look in your eye. You could tell how thick he was from the tent in the fabric, his length pushing against the cloth with a raunchy, wet stain revealing his desire. Desperate to be freed. Pretty doe eyes peered up at him as you squeezed your thighs, shuffling to try and ease the tension in your achy cunt.
   “c’mere”, you beckoned him with open arms, smiling as amber eyes glowed excitedly.
 Gyutaro tugged off his pants hurriedly, his hunger for you blinding him as he scrambled to undress quickly enough. You said yes! He ripped the fabric in his haste, his cock jutting out and slapping him in the stomach as it stood full mast, tip flushed an angry red, thin veins trailing along his shaft and the left side decorated with the black marks adorning his chest down his body. His balls were round, heavy and hanging between his thighs— the crown of his cock was bulbous— the shaft more length than width. His cock had a more heated complexion than his chest, and he was pretty. The sight of him dried your throat, and Gyutaro did not feel self-conscious when your heart stuttered in excitement, the taste of your pussy still tingling on his lips.
  “Please, please ask me”, he groaned as he palmed his erection with one hand, hooking your leg around his waist with the other— Gyutaro needed to hear you say it. His cock hurt— filled with the blood he drank from you, it was hot and achy, and it hurt. “Ask me to fuck you”. He could take you how he intended, but that pleading look in your eyes swayed him. He had to hear it from you.
  “Gyutaro”, you purred his name, taking his hand off his cock and curling your fingers together as you pulled him down on top of you, “fuck me, please? I want you to”. You could see his adam's-apple bob nervously, a meek nod rustling his curls and tickling your cheeks as he settled his weight on top of you with your thighs cinched around his bony hips. “You were right”, you say, pushing his hair back from his face, taking note of every blemish and scar, glowing eyes and miserable expression— and smiling up at him anyway. “I liked it when you watched me”. 
  The admission caresses his lips, the softest breath of words blooming affection; he could only respond with a low whine. All rationale escapes when you smile at him. He kisses you. A messy, feverish touch of lips with his tongue slinking across the seam of your mouth until you part them for him to delve in. His kiss was sloppy, wet, and filled with the adoration that drove him to grind against you— breaking the kiss to cry out when his cock skimmed your cunt.
  Gyutaro froze, breathless, cock weeping as it pressed between your folds, smearing his shaft with the sticky cum and saliva still coating your pussy. “Oh shit”, he shudders from the sensation— from your coy smile and the warmth that spreads as he ruts ever so slowly. As if he can’t quite make out what to do. Captivated by the touch of your wet slit smothering kisses on his long shaft. His sights locked on you, arms shaking as they grip your thighs, rocking back and forth with his mouth agape.
  “Your pussy is so slippery”, he squeaks, it’s silky and soft. And the sound it makes when he slips his dick on your pussy lips over and over— is so lewd. A squelch of skin rubbing together, the thick crown of his cock grazing on your clit, trembling your tits as you gasp for him. Gyutaro stares in rapture, bucking his cock again to feel your nipples brush on his chest. “‘er so warm, ‘er pussy, uhh, so wet”, sticky strings glisten on his dick— deep groans tear out of his chest as his hips jerk against you desperately. Carelessly.
   “Gyu- hun, not—”
 “Ple-please”, he says, voice rugged and croaked, thrusting into your gooey slit frantically, “don’ ask me to stop”.
 You sigh breathily, tugging on his shoulders and pulling him closer to your chest, desperate to feel his skin flush against yours. “No— harder”, you affirmed, “wan’ it harder, sweetie. Put it in”.
 But he can’t, he doesn’t know how and the sensations are too much to stop. Something sensual— hot, flushes across his stomach. It’s hard and fast, and pulls his balls tight, quickening his pace. His muscles clench, his mind melting into a drunken haze of lust. You give him this soft, little gasp every time, as if every grind of Gyutaro’s hips stutters a delightful little surprise quivering heat in your core.
  He looks down at you to find your eyes, lashes wet, lips parted and locked onto him. Your hands slide up to his chest, and you murmur something with the softest hint of desperation when you beg for more. Gyutaro opens his mouth, but only a huff slips out— his cock squishes on your puffy folds as he rubs and ruts and bucks on your pussy. “Fuck, uhh, ple-ease”, he babbles praises, rocking into you, faster and faster, the wet sheens of your skin splattering on his pubic hair— hastily humping and crying and cooing until splotches of creamy cum shoot out in thick gobs.
  Gyutaro squeals on top of you, burying his face in your shoulder while you whisper reassurances, selfishly moving your hips to catch his blushed tip on your clit despite how he shakes through his release. Murmurs of good boy coax him out of the blissful dream— the one where he painted your pussy lips with his cum without even fucking you properly. It was wretched, and you still pressed kisses on his cheek.
 “uhh, my cock still hurts”, he pouts, grinding his shaft harder into your cum soaked pussy, sloshes of white combining with your slick lewdly squelching between you. His cock was stiff and leaking more cum than ever despite the orgasms he spewed through the night— satisfaction not nearly enough when he hadn’t even fucked you yet, only festering a deep seeded arousal no amount of petting and humping could satiate. He needed to be in you, in your skin— in your pussy, feel your walls clasp his cock and pulse upon his veins. Gyutaro needed it so much his teeth cracked from the tension in his jaws as he struggled to thrust into your hole, his inexperience beading sweat and shame.
  “Fuck! How- I can’t put it in”, Gyutaro wailed, palming your waist to hold you steady. His body nudges into yours clumsily, the fat head of his cock slipping past your hole every time he attempted to push inside. “It won’— ughh, it won’t go in!”
 “Relax”, you pat his chest in an attempt to calm him— your words lost to him as he grows increasingly frustrated, gripping your waist too harshly you grimace when he pushes excessively roughly. “Gyu- wait, hun. Relax, no, not like that. Right here, wai-wait. Listen”.
 He doesn’t. Gyutaro does not hear a word you say or bother to pay attention, entirely too raptured by the obscene sounds your bodies make as he ruts into you awkwardly— growling, huffing. “Go inside!! In-in-in!” He shouts with every thrust, “It won’- ahh, uhh-shiit”. Gyutaro sinks in with one hard stroke, and his eyes roll back from the tension that seizes his shaft, your pussy sucking him in, softening to the size of his thick cock. Spreading warmth as your tight walls quiver on his dick. “Fuu-uck, ‘er so hot, ahh-hahahaha”, he cackles to himself, a manic laughter that drowns the wild claps of wet skin slapping skin. Your own moans and sighs are saturated by his babbles that crack his voice through every other thrust.
 “nghh-tight! ‘m fu-ucking you! ah-haha, sh-it, shit-shit! can’t stop, pretty! so’so warm, y’squeezing on my cock, ohh-uhh, ahh, yes! y’like it? ‘m fuckin’ you so-so good, mm? uhh-ahh, my dick feel good pretty? yeah? mm-hmm, pretty slut y’kno how to take dick, ahh-feels nice an’ big in ya’lil’ cunt. pussy so wet fo’me, she like it, yea? uhh-huh, she do- sss’uckin’ wet, nghh...Does-does it hurt? lemme make it hurt fo’you. make it hu-rt s’goo. jus like that, y’so pretty, takin’ my cock like this, cry fo’me. yea, yeah, cry-cry! Fuck-fuck-fuck! Imma-uhhh! Imma cum! Imma-‘mma cu-um!”
   “Gyu—”
  He seized your throat with both hands, capturing your breath and watching your eyes mist over with tears while he fucked you through his quick release. Howling as sprays of cum froth were your skins meet with every plunge. “Look at you”, he grunts, “so messy. Nasty girl”, his giggles wheeze when he plunges in deep into your spongy spot. Gyutaro barely slows down— rings of white smear his cock through his chaotic strokes into your cunt— he can only growl as your walls palpitate upon his shaft. Fumbling through a rhythm he can only hear in his head— yet every slam of his hips ruts his nestle of curls on your clit enough to make your chest heave. He doesn't note your anguished wheeze or the smacks you strike on his face to release his grip. Gyutaro stares at you with bloodshot eyes and drool hanging off his bottom lip burning a frightening leer that makes it known that he is a demon.
 Selfish, powerful and rotten. Though a demon that cried for your touches, cooed about your beauty and kissed your soft skin throughout the night. Nonetheless, he was a demon too mesmerised by the heated arousal in his core and your blood warming his throat to care about your unfortunate lack of oxygen. He needed you still— his cock ached and twitched inside you. His mushroom tip pressed into your cervix like it was made for it. His balls slapped your ass with every thrust, yet they were still heavy— needy. Desperate to empty inside your warm cunt.
 “‘mma break you, my lil’ cutie. make you full an’ round with my cum. fuck”, he growled, grin slanted. Ignoring your huffs to slow down when none of it mattered to him— especially not when he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your body writhing as your cries gagged when he flexed his grip on your throat. Groaning brazenly, piercing your flesh, licking the bloodied skin and marking the other side with the same bites. You could feel his length stirring inside your silky walls from the visible evidence of his ownership— clamping more bites on your tits and collarbone, violent kisses that he admired by caressing his thumb on the indents of his love.
 “y’like that? mmm, y’look so good fo’me, gon’ fill you with lots an’ lots of cum. ahh-uhhh, all-all leaky and wet- hahaha you cry so pretty. pretty girl cryn’ on my cock it makes me so-so hard. shit, make me cum again, shit-shit! y’feel so nice an’ hot on my cock. y’love my cock dontchya? nnggh- its why ‘ur makin’ su-such a dirty mess on me. nasty-na-asty girl, uhh-shit! do-don’ worry, I’ll cle-ean it up fo’ya. cause ya’my lil’ princess. mine-mine- mine!”
  “oh, god”, you choke, black spots dancing across your vision, his voice far away as he rasps and snickers his dirty words, your body at the mercy of his pleasure with your lungs shrinking tight from every breath he denies you. Matching the brutality of his thrusts, delving in deep and stretching you wide, leaving a permanent imprint of his cock into your cushy walls. Bearing a cruel smirk as your mouth parts in horrid gasps, frantically holding onto consciousness while it continues to slip away— stutters of “oh god” are the only sounds you can manage beneath him.
  Gyutaro snickers. “Nah”, he smirks, licking the tears off your cheeks, “is jus’ me, pretty. There is no god”.
  Your pleas fall on deaf ears while the pain throbs in all the best ways— the pressure knotting in your belly soaking slick all over his cock, mixing with his gooey cum and foaming a sticky mixture that splashes in your cunt and smears all over his pubic bone. His thrusts jostle your body beneath his as sweat and cum cling you both together. You mutter his name incoherently, another orgasm building in your core, thighs shaking against his hips— strokes of his cock pushing deep in your belly in three thrusts until a voiceless scream rips from you and wet squirts gush on his dick.
 “ahh-uhh, su-uch a dirty girl”, he purred, rocking with your trembling body from the intensity of your wet spurts splattering on his girth, “makin’ a big mess on me. ‘tis okay, y’did so-so well, s’goo fo’me. shhh”.
 Your orgasm subsides, and the world around you darkens— limbs go lax and heavy, sinking into the blankets until his glowing eyes dim in their shine— shrouding in the darkness shading your vision.
 “Princess?” He shook you gently, blinking away the fog, thrusts shallowing in their ferocity as Gyutaro took a moment to clearly look at you. And you looked stunning; the hair you spent earlier in the evening brushing coiled into a nest of tangles on your pillow, and your supple skin was now an ornamentation of his passions. With bruises, scrapes and teeth indents yet to fade. Red flecks of dried blood marred your thighs, clothes torn, lashes wet with tears— the sight of you was captivating, and Gyutaro finally released your throat.
 You gag in heaps of air, splutters of coughs and spit choke from you as you struggle to find your breath, blackness fading into colours that bleed together, but the only thing you can register is yellow.
 “c’mere, pretty girl”, Gyutaro pulls you into his strong arms and settles back on his heels, nestling your trembling body on his lap while brushing your tears away, “‘m so’rry for hurting you, princess”. Kisses flutter on your neck, licking the inflated skin as his way of apologising, allowing his healing to fade the dark colours into pretty shades he admired. Gyutaro hummed into your shoulder, idly bouncing you on his cock in slow glides as you catch your breath in his arms, “I couldn’ help myself, ‘m so sorry”. His kisses held the faintest imprint of a smirk, the apologies lacking sincerity despite how they caressed your heated skin.
   “Did I hurt my girl?”
 You nod timidly, curling your arms around his neck, deliriously seeking solace from the creature who caused your discomfort and leaning into his heated touch as he stroked your back in soothing circles. You shouldn't have, but you melted into it— into his kisses and his faux apologies, allowing him to lift you up and down his cock lazily. Taking the time to explore every column of your neck with his wet tongue. The new angle made your cunt hug every inch and ridge of his dick, greedily suckling on the sensitive flesh with his balls tight beneath your ass and a mess of combined frothy cum sticking on your laps.
  “One more?” Gyutaro giggles when you shake your head, “yes you can”, he insists, pecking your cheeks with wet kisses, “yes you can, pretty. cum one more time fo’rme, yea? yes, my pretty, pretty girl with the pretty pussy. ya’pussy love me, I know she do, I know she wants one more”.
  Your hair tickles his cheeks when you shake your head, hoarse objections triggering more of his giggles, “Gyu, no, please- ‘tis too much”. You shuffle closer, chests pressed, thighs resting around his hips, your own kisses fluttering on his jaw in sweet pecks as a way to entice him to let you sleep. To breathe. And though your bodies rock gently together, you can feel his rigid erection inside you, whereas the exhaustion exuded from your every pore. “Gyu, let’s rest, kay?” you tiredly murmur while you run your fingers through his curls, moaning through the jerks of your bodies with the stench of sweat and cum stirring in the air, yet none of it registers to him the way it does for you.
 Gyutaro only hums, the pulse on his cock a restless arousal compared to the fatigue weighing on your eyelids— he moves you achingly slow. Canting his hips to eye how his thick shaft reappears coated in a warm layer of cum from the copious amounts he released into you, creating little bubbles at the base with every drag. As if he was savouring the touch of your pussy sliding up and down his length, basking in the comfort of your body curled into his. “Feel good, yea?” He chuckled airly. 
  “Yea”, you sigh sweetly, leaning into him, “all yours, Gyu”. The warmth you radiate seeps into his as you cuddle into his chest, kiss his face, tug on his hair and whisper his name in soft gaps. Unaware of how his smile faded.
  Gyutaro stiffened, swallowing a nasty lump in his throat from the implication of your tender words. You held him, his sordid body with black marks and spindly limbs, you kissed him as if he were something precious to you, and the sentiment overwhelmed him. His obsession festering now the more your soft lips brushed along his scars. “You’re mine now, okay?” He growled into your neck, voice no more than a tortured husk, arms clenching tight around your waist, exhibiting the adamant force of his adoration. “I’ll come for you every night, kay? I’ll come for you and make you feel so-so good, princess. I'll protect you, listen”, he gruffed, pulling back to grip your chin, forcing you to see the dark devotion burning in his gaze when he said, “You’re mine”.
  “Okay”, you mutter sleepily, the tenderness in your throat adding to the lightheaded weariness sinking your body, finally succumbing to the blood loss that twinkled spots you couldn't blink away.
 Gyutaro growled, meanly squeezing your cheeks and forcing clarity in your haze to make you witness the sinister gravity of his affections. And when you looked at him, when you settled your misty eyes on him and smiled— it bloomed a warmth that made his chest ache. “Repeat after me”, he rasped, “I am yours”.
 “I am yours”.
“And you’re mine”.
 “And you’re mine”.
“Say it”.
 You smile dreamily, tugging on his hair to make him slant his head down and graze your lips against his, “I am yours, and you’re mine”.
 “Good girl”, Gyutaro caressed your face gently, sliding his fingers through your hair exactly how he imagined doing all those nights he spent watching you. And it was everything. This time, when he kissed you, it was the gentlest press upon your forehead. “C’mon, pretty girl”, he whispered, “one more”. 
  His snickers blocked your huffs as he bent you over with your thighs cinched to your chest, mounting you into a position you couldn’t wriggle yourself out of. “Sh-it”, was the only thing he could manage, cock plunging in your sopping cunt in fast succession, sinking into the warmth of your body as the heat glowed. His strangled moans trickle drool on your lips, pitiful gasps escaping with his heavy thrusts from the new angle. “All mine, yea? yeah you are, m’girl. my dirty girl so cock hungry”. Gyutaro gazed deep into your eyes, committing everything to memory. Your shudders, moans and cries of his name, how your eyes roll when he presses into your cervix, how your chest heaves when he brushes against your clit.
  You truly were a dream, and as he pumped you full of his cock, your pussy spasming along his length, Gyutaro whispered praises. Low rasps of “pretty girl”, and “I’ll kill for you”, merge with your moans, creating a sensual melody echoed by the wet sounds of skin clapping together through his heavy thrusts.
  “th-thats it, that’s my girl. so-so pretty. cummin’ all over me. so-so wet haha- ahh, fuck-fuck! ri-ight here, fuck you like this? y’like it? dick feel goo’, yea? I kno’ it do, y’squeezin’on me again, ‘er jus’ a dirty lil’ cunt, huh? Wan’ cock so-so bad, lettin’ a demon fuck you hahaha-ahh-fuck-fuck! feel so’goo’ ahh-shit! I can’ wait to see yo’again. fu-uuck, wait for me, pretty. I’ll take goo’ care of you. yea? y’like that? wan’ be all mine, huh. mmm-shit, tight! so-so tight, uhh-uhh, yes! yes-yes-yes!”
 You nod through his babbles, answering him with yes and right there, lost in the fog of his arousal, you were almost drunk on it. Drunk on his strength, his affection, his cock pounding in and out of your soft cunt, balls slapping against your ass flaring heat in your core while praises stumbled, losing their coherency the harder Gyutaro fucked you until it all burst. Cum splashes out in wet squirts and spills in goopy sprays as you both moan through your combined orgasm, trembling together with him slumped on top of you— finally satiated.
 His body melts into yours in bliss, panting widely, body heavy as he lay half on top of you, nuzzling his sweaty forehead into your hair with a delirious giggle.
 “such a good girl”, he coos with a silly smile, gently easing out of your quivering pussy only for sloshes of mixed cum to ooze out of your cunt in thick glops. “Fuck, so-so dirty, we made a mess”, Gyutaro snickered as he fingered the white substance, mesmerised by the gooey essence coating your bodies, quietly watching you catch your breath for a moment longer. Safe and warm.
 Soft breaths sound from you both, tangled in a mess of limbs, cum and sweat— the breeze from the open balcony does nothing to soothe the heat emitting from your bodies. Not after the events of the sordid night now only filled by deep huffs and quiet giggles between the sheets. Gyutaro curls into you from behind, holding you gently with his hands roaming your delicate curves, surrendering to his desires now that the fire in his core was finally sated. Kisses litter on your shoulders, his smile evident against your sweat-coated skin, whispers of praise lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
 The silence stretches as the evening comes to an end, the streams of moonlight dimming through the sheer curtains showing the world that dawn was not far on the horizon. You hear him sigh, “I’ll be back, ‘kay?”
 You can’t help but pout, fighting the sleep in your eyes to peer at him over your shoulder, “You’re leaving?”
 “I’ll be back tonight, promise”, he declares, a crooked smirk peaking through as he stands, tugging on his torn pants, “you should take a long bath, though”.
 You nod in response, watching his hulking frame disappear from your balcony, leaving you in the mess of putrid sex clinging to your skin. You huff a laugh he can hear through the wind, letting it carry his name with it as you hum to yourself a new song with the word Gyutaro flowing in the gentlest melody.
Another tune he admired in the late hours of the night, the promise of tomorrow heavy in the air as he slinked back into the shadows.
THE END.
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tags// @olenoname @coocoocatchoo @mercymccann @404starlight
a/n: reblogs are appreciated. dm me if you're interested in commissioning a story x
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rollingstonesdata · 1 year
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ROLLING STONES SONGS: 'STRAY CAT BLUES' (1968)
ROLLING STONES SONGS: ‘STRAY CAT BLUES’ (1968)
Rolling Stones songs: Stray Cat Blues*Click for MORE ROLLING STONES SONGS 1962-PRESENTOh yeah, you’re a strange stray cat/ Oh yeah, dont’cha scratch like that… Written by: Jagger/RichardRecorded: RG Jones Studios, Moden, Surrey, England, March 1-14 1968; Olympic Sound Studios, London, England, May 13-18 1968Guest musicians: Nicky Hopkins (piano)*Data taken from Martin Elliott’s book THE ROLLING…
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wisedreamerreview · 2 years
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Considering Attachments
Yesterday while searching for the chimney brush my brother managed to walk through weeds ending up with Beggar’s Lice stuck to his work pants. For those who do not know, these are the seeds of plants. Hitching a ride being their method of transportation to other areas for growth.  My brother wondered where he had walked that he managed to get so many stuck to his pants. This time of year, all you…
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berrymeter · 2 years
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favourite vtuber who did not even listen to mcr before going to a concert got to see the cat fit... im so envious i wanna blow myself up
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the-twentieth-man · 2 years
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The Cat Litter Crisis
The Cat Litter Crisis
I’m an honest man; I merely report what I see. While going to the drugstore for my brother, a scruffy, bearded panhandler asked me for help. It seems he was out of cat litter and his poor cat was down to a little pile in the corner of his box. I said, “Most folks would just let the cat outside.” The beggar replied: “I really need some help.” I responded, “Everybody does.” As I pulled out and…
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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more gojo with curse!darling please! i lobe this concept<3
Gojo Satoru
P1 & P3
TW: abduction and captivity, mild condescension, mild coercion, NSFW hints, some descriptions of darling, but nothing too specific, a joke dissing people with blue eyes and pale skin
gn reader - fem labels (drama queen) & fem accessories (jewelry: various)
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He kept you like one would a stray cat. Leaving you be as you found places of comfort around his apartment, hiding when you wanted to be left alone – which was almost always.
You hadn’t warmed up to him yet. Understandably so.
He’d set out food for you, locking the door with seals when leaving – scoffing out a laugh after coming home only to find the dish still on the table. He keeps forgetting you don’t eat.
You may look it, but you’re not exactly human.
But you are getting thinner, unfortunately. Suppose his apartment isn’t ideal hunting ground for a curse. And as you’ve gotten weaker, you’ve become wilder – primitive in a way – hissing at him when he gets too close – feeling vulnerable. 
You’re very cute.
But, cute or not, he doesn’t want to starve you. He isn’t cruel. So he walks and wonders what it is that you would find appetizing. 
Watching your behavior – how you sneak around his apartment looting – like a crow – collecting shiny objects to deck yourself in. Stealing all his rings, chains, watches, belt buckles, manchets, any gold or silver-rimmed glasses, and anything else you can use as jewelry – old coins, can tabs, all the silverware – along with everything else you deem pretty – fabrics, flowers, decorations, all his silk shirts. 
You rob anything and everything of value, making a nest of it all in the tub. 
His theory is that the bathroom is the shiniest place in the house and, therefore, where you feel you most belong. You sleep there despite him having given you a room – coveting all your findings.
He’s never really thought about how a curse can have such behaviorism. It’s not too odd to keep tamed ones as pets, but still, he’s never thought about why one would aside from utilizing them in combat. But you weren’t made for such intents and purposes. You were… just fascinating to have. Not far off from being an exotic pet.
But even for a curse, you’re unusual.
It’s not fear or death you thrive on. It’s… something a lot more innocent, actually – which is probably why you have no malicious instincts to hurt him – not that you could if you tried. But he can tell… you don’t want to be a curse, do you? In fact, those few times he has nicknamed you curse, you’ve scowled at him a little more than usual. 
No, what you desire is devotion – to be worshipped. 
What you want is to be a god.
Quite like him, actually. You like having your ego stroked. 
It’s your pride that needs feeding, and he can only asses that it feasts on people’s mad desire for you – of which he has plenty to give.
But you reject it.
“I won’t rely on the pity of a filthy jujutsu sorcerer. I’d rather starve.” You tell him with a sneer, curling yourself up with folded arms upon your chest – pouting with eyes closed, drowned in your treasure bath as though everything wasn’t nicking your skin, trying to ignore him.
He slants his head to the side, crouched down beside you with his arms resting on the tub, a smirk on his face – playing cute as he reaches a slim finger out to touch your cheek.
“Won’t you let a filthy jujutsu sorcerer worship you a bit? Trust me, a curse has never made me feel so weak before. Don’t you think I’d make for the best beggar?” 
You grimace, brows deepening into a vexed frown without opening your eyes, but you don’t flinch away. “I won’t be patronized. You keep playing with me like I’m your toy.”
“Maybe a little,” He chuckles softly. You’re such an honest and expressive little curse. “But I do think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen~”
“Naturally.” You reply simply, the furrow in your brow softening, but you don’t offer much more.
“Come on, pretty curse.” He drawls. “Let me help you before you waste away.”
You scoff. “Tch- foolish, selfish human… you really are such an ugly thing to behold.” The furl returns, but still, you keep your eyes closed. “Do you honestly think that your rancid touch is going to save me?” Then you laugh – harshly and mockingly. “Please, don’t flatter yourself. A god requires offerings left at their shrine, not the filthy touch of the peasants that leave them.” Your nose scrunches suggestively. “You should consider it a blessing to even be allowed to look at me.”
Vain and stubborn, he thinks. You are the curse of beauty. But still, he's never experienced rejection before.
Suppose he has to try a little harder…
He soon finds himself courting you. Trying to make you comfortable.
He starts giving you gifts – first, silver silk bedsheets that lure you into sleeping in your bed instead of the bathtub, along with other changes that make your room more appealing – ornate wallpaper, canopy drapes surrounding the bed, and a smaller chandelier for the ceiling. Happy to see you abandon your former treasure in the tub in favor of your new dwelling.
Then he gifts you other pretty articles – clothes and such that actually fit you – patterned silks and lace. He attempts to give you clothes you can use to cover up more of yourself, but you seem partial to wearing less – most comfortable in just an elegant kimono you can easily discard on the floor.
You’re confusing like that – walking around his apartment half-naked but hissing and scowling at him when he stares.
It’s more the jewelry you enjoy wearing – crowns, earrings, necklaces, body chains, rings for your fingers and toes, bracelets for your wrists and ankles – everything in abundance. Jingling when you step about.
You seem healthier after receiving his presents. Also, a bit less skeptical – now engaging in conversation with him – although often about what his next gifts will be and if he can buy you diamonds and rubies for you to bead your hair.
“Sorry, but the banks closed. I’m not giving you a single dime, your highness.” He laughs one day, eyes bright and smiling, watching the puzzlement befall your face before the spread of horror that soon followed after hearing his next words. “In fact, I’m gonna start taking things away.”
“You wouldn’t-” Your voice had dropped into something so weak it was adorable, no longer having that strident overconfidence you’d built up.
It makes him feel almost bad watching your face drain and become so distressed like a spoiled little brat who’d just been told no for the first time.
“Oh- I would.” He grinned like it was all only a cruel joke to him – something just for shits and giggles. “Satoru Gojo giveth and Satoru Gojo taketh away.”
“But-” Your lip wobbles, and he can spot the tears brimming in your eyes already.
He doesn’t let it bother him. Or at least he doesn’t let it show.
“I think I’ll start with all your jewelry- how about that necklace you’re wearing right now?” He threatens, pale hand reaching towards your neck to pull your pearls off – but you shrink into a ball on the floor before he has the chance to.
“No, no, no, don’t-” You start sobbing, and he thinks it’s the first time he’s seen a curse be so sad and desperate.
Not to mistake those countless curses he’d made cry and plead for their life, but that wasn’t what you were doing. You were grieving. 
You’re really such a simple thing, aren’t you?
His smile softens into something not so cruel. Crouching down to your level, placing his hand atop your head where you’re bowed and bawling, petting you soothingly. “Okay then, drama queen. Stop your crying. I’ll let you keep it.”
You raise your head, hopeful. Looking at him with terribly puffy eyes - cheeks streaked with teardrops hanging off your lashes. Looking so pained and vulnerable, it made his heart ache at the sight. 
You don’t say anything but he can tell there’s a question on your lips you’re unable to voice.
“Under one condition.” He answers. 
You flinch when his hand slides from your hair to cup your cheek, holding your chin as he rolls on his feet and places a kiss on your salty lips.
You gasp and allow it for a second but then abruptly push him off – falling back on your butt. “No- you’ll make me filthy.” You rush out. “Beauty is meant to be admired, not reaped. It’s not right. You can’t-”
He watches you blush and stutter and thinks it’s silly how he hasn’t thought about it before. But now it’s become clear. Curses spawn from human fears, after all. It’s not strange that they’re so similar. But still… he’d never think a curse would be afraid of losing their virginity.
“It’s okay,” He coos, setting his knees down softly – crawling forward to where you sit, hiding your face behind small hands decked in too many rings. “I’m not gonna stain you…” He promises, his breath warm on your skin. “I’m gonna make you feel like the most desired diety in the world.”
Your breath shivers as he takes your hands and uncovers your face – eyes wide looking at him.
“And after I’m done admiring you, I’ll get you more diamonds and rubies than you can count.”
You swallow – eyes skittering from one of his blue ones to the other.
“Really?” It’s below a whisper.
“You bet.” He answers with a smile, flashing you a smirk. “I’ll get you enough to swim in.”
Your nose does a little twitch like it usually does, but this time, it’s not to express disgust. “Do you promise?” You bite your lip – staring at him.
“Let’s make it a binding vow.”
And that’s the arrangement.
You let him admire you in ways you’ve never let anyone else before, but only if he fulfills all your greedy heart’s desires.
He doesn’t mind. It’s nice to have something to spend money on that’s worth it.
You’ll lie next to him and he’ll get to study you up close – finding things that betray you – model details that aren’t in line with human imperfections. Missing bone structure, flawless symmetry, hairless skin devoid of any and all accent of mark or spot – just smooth milky texture without a single fault.
He says it’s sad – that the standard for beauty isn’t even achievable, to which you reply that it’s only fair everyone should be subject to the same disappointment, never to achieve perfection like you.
He asks if you think he’s really that ugly. And you say yes.
“Liar.” He accuses. Head propped on his hand, his hair a tousled mess lying in the bed beside you.
You’re looking up at the ceiling but close your eyes insouciantly at his comment. You tip your chin a bit as you speak – lips pouty and proud. “Lies are an ugly trade- in which I don’t partake.”
“Oh, really?” He rolls on top of you and you give a whine. Looking up into his sparkling blues and how his pearly hair falls loose and wispy. “Then look me in my eyes and tell me I’m ugly.” He dares.
“Puh-” You scoff, folding your arms above your puffed chest, looking off to the side, still with eyes closed as though to dismiss him like you so often do. “Men with beady bright blue eyes and pink skin look like pigs.”
You sneak a peek with one eye when he doesn’t answer. He’s still looking down at you – still daring you. 
And you continue. Raising a finger to nudge his nose up. “Say oink-oink, piggy.”
He brushes your finger away as he leans in closer. Now with his nose rubbing yours.
“Tell me I’m ugly.” He repeats – his voice dipping low into that serious tone that makes your breath tight and your stomach flurry.
“You’re-” You try but it ends up swallowed, stifled beneath those big worldly blues. “You’re…” You try again but it’s worse than the first time, making you bite your lip. He’s not budging.
You look away. Feeling defeated and mopey because of it.
“You’re not as pretty as me.” You finally sulk.
So cutely grumpy with your pursed lips and vexed brow, he just has to laugh. “Tch- now that we can both agree on.”
And then he forces you to laugh too – beginning to snort like a boar into your ear, placing sloppy kisses to your neck while you scream out that it tickles.
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P1 & P3
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