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narrators-journal · 8 months

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Sexual healing

I hope this has enough spanking in it, I’m never too sure how to make spanking HOT enough lol. I at least had a fun time writing it? I know it’s not particularly LOVING, but tbh I always got the vibe from Machi that she was a lesbian, so I mayyyy have made a colder bitch than Illumi lmao. Other than that, just another Ao3 ask!

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober Masterlist: Here

CW: Spanking, Hisoka gets pegged, handcuffs are included. I may not have focused on the prompt, but it is spicy regardless!

Feitan and Uvogin? Healed. Dinner? Had. The members of the phantom troupe? Accounted for, and in one piece. All around, Machi Komacine considered her night free to herself. After all, her usual thorns in the side were either drunkenly passed out, or dealt with after that day’s mission. Plus! Hisoka Morrow, the painted, colorful bastard, wasn’t included in this job! She was free of him and his mind games.

So, taking down her light pink hair from its usual fluffy ponytail, Machi slipped into her sleeping bag, letting out a content sigh when the blissful comfort of a mattress seemed to turn her bones into jelly. After so long af sleeping in abandoned buildings or stolen cars, the healer didn’t care about the creaky, cheap mattress. It was a mattress.

Yet, an early bedtime wasn’t in the cards. Judging from the sickly familiar pattern of knocks at her door. Grimacing, the healer rolled over so that her back was to the door. Firmly ignoring it, only for the bastard to sing, “Macha~ Be a dear and let me in~”

So, with a mix of a sigh and a groan, Machi unzipped her sleeping bag and basically threw herself from the cheap hotel bed to stomp over and rip the door nearly off the hinges. “What the fuck do you want, Morrow? Why are you even here?” She spat, sapphire eyes narrowing darkly as she glared into those snake-yellow, smug eyes staring down at her. “I missed you! So, I came to find you.” Was the sappy response Hisoka gave, batting his lashes at her, jesus christ she’d kill for lashes that thick, and playing sweet. But, the sugar made Machi’s stomach churn. “Fuck off.” she spat again, trying to slam the door in the clown’s face. However, he was quicker, and got his foot in the door before she could entirely shut him out. ”Oh come on, Machi! Let me in, I’ll make my visit quick.” He promised, unbothered by the woman throwing her weight into the door to try and force his foot out of the way. Until, finally, she gave another groan and just caved, going back to the bed to pack up her sleeping bag. And, when she turned around, sure enough, the tall psychopath had followed her in.

The silence of his movements brought a shudder, but the healer bottled it up, knowing that any sign of how much Hisoka scared her would draw out whatever game he wanted to play, or demand he had for her. So, she turned her attention to tying her long hair back into its usual style. “Alright. What do you need sewn up.” She said coolly, ignoring how close he was to trapping her between the bed and his well-muscled body as she walked over to her duffle bag to dig out the pin cushion she kept her needles in. Making a conscious choice to crouch down instead of bend when she did. “Nothing,” He hummed, his syrupy tone dropped in favor of a more bored one. A glance over her shoulder revealing that the clown had gone from flirtatious, to more casual. Which, only meant one thing. “God damn it, Hisoka. Don’t you have a boytoy or something?! Some poor bitch you’ve baby trapped?” She snapped, standing up to glare at him again, her hands on her hips like an annoyed mother. Yet, her harsh tone didn’t seem to phase the pink-haired man, barely getting him to lift his yellow eyes from some mystery stain on his outfit. “No, everyone else is so boring. And Illumi said that if I try to bargain for sex a second time, he’d put a needle in my urethra.” He sighed, pouting at her like he wanted her sympathy for that.

Which, Machi did show. After all, while the phantom troupe were a ballsy pack of villains, even they were scared of crossing the Zoldyck family. And, personally, Illumi Zoldyck was Machi’s personal nightmare. With bottomless, soulless pits for eyes, suffocating nen that he used for a terrifying ability, and such a clinical, almost robotic personality, Machi would sooner face the devil than that man.

Though, on some level, maybe the devil was a far more likely encounter than people normally had. After all, he currently sat on her bed, giving her puppy dog eyes.

So, with a long sigh, Machi pinched the bridge of her nose, gritting her teeth in pure annoyance. “Fine. But I’m gagging you.” She told the tall man, getting a thousand watt smile that would’ve been charming if it was from anyone else. But, that aside, the healer simply turned back to her dufflebag to fish out some handcuffs, ball gag, and a vibrantly purple strap on that she kept for a more desirable partner.

By the time she turned back to Hisoka, he was already naked. His vest and pants were torn off as if he was some bachelorette stripper rather than a murderous psycho, but she didn’t bother questioning his speed or skill with stripping down. “Get on the bed. Face down, and put your hands out like usual.” she ordered, watching the scarred man eagerly climb onto the cheap, creaky bed, his ass already in the air. Machi coming over to cuff his wrists together once he was in position. “Open.” she added, a little perturbed by how readily Hisoka opened his mouth to let her put the thick rubber ball in his mouth and secure it around his head. Or, maybe it was the glitter of lust sparkling in his yellow eyes, either way, she didn’t know how to feel.

Regardless of that, though, she just went about the usual steps of their ‘hook ups’, as Hisoka called these meetings. Strolling down to the foot of the bed to kick off her sleep shorts and pull on the base of her sex toy, ensuring the silicone dildo was secure before moving to stand behind him, staring down at the round rump eagerly awaiting whatever she was going to do.

It wasn’t a surprise that Hisoka was so horny for whatever sex he could get, but it still somewhat annoyed the healer that he was so okay with being pegged, and, even after her setting such a firm rule on that being her only form of sexual contact with him, him asking for it.

"You really need to find someone else to 'scratch your itch'." Machi huffed, slapping the homicidal clown's ass, knowing well enough that he couldn't answer through the gag she'd tied in his mouth. "Like a prostitute."

Despite her complaints, though, the woman gave another slap to Hisoka's ass. At least enjoying the chance to cause the annoying bastard some pain for all of the healing he demands of her, and his general flirty pestering. If he got some sense of pleasure out of her strikes, that was up to him, but for her, the sight of the powerful man on his belly, handcuffed to the bed posts with a ball gag keeping him silent was more cathartic than arousing. But, if it kept him from dragging himself to her for free healing, she was willing to tolerate his sexual appetite.

So, she grabbed the bottle of lube and stroked a thin layer of it onto the pink silicone strap on she wore. Then, she simply lined herself up and pushed into Hisoka, thanking whatever god there was that he had been gagged when he let out a pornographic moan.

But, she ignored his theatrics and simply grabbed onto his hips when he pushed back against her and began moving. Tuning out each lustful noise and letting the pink-haired man push his ass back to meet her thrusts eagerly, only focusing on humping into him and pacing herself. After all, the last time she’d rushed one of their ‘hook up’, Hisoka had whined and purposely increased her work load to spite her. So, she made sure her thrusts alternated between slow, deep movements, and quicker ones.

Plunging the pink toy into Hisoka, clawing into his scarred skin, and sprinkling in a few harsh slaps to the meat of his ass, Machi still found no pleasure in her companion, but she did feel a small seed of pride and power sprout in her chest. After all, while Hisoka Morrow was far too annoying and deranged for her to consider dating him, he was still insanely powerful. He almost never stopped training and pushing himself, which the pink-haired woman would’ve respected far more if he wasn’t so...indescriminate with that drive. So, while she did hold a bit of respect for his fighting abilities, and maybe a little for his sadistic joy, there were simply too many factors for the woman to get more than an ego boost out of the sexual aspect of their meetings.

Finally pulling herself out of that rabbit hole, Machi let out a slow breath and focused back in on the man she had tied down on the hotel bed. Noting his dishevelled pink hair, sweat-beaded skin, and muffled, needy moans as she lifted her hand and landed another severe blow to his, surely sore by that point, ass again, getting a more emphatic moan in response. Which, she took as a good sign and switched to a faster pace. The mulling over of Hisoka’s ambiguous, confusing signals could be pushed off for the time being. For now, she focused on the joy she got out of leaving an angry patch of red on the scarred man’s ass as she fucked him.

#Hunter x hunter #Hisoka x Machi #hxh #kinktober #Kinktober 2023 #Hisoka Morrow #Machi #prompt #Ao3 ask #spicy #lemon #not sfw

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yangbbokari · 8 months

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Sweet and Sweaty

NSFW read at ur own risk A.N: Wrote it for a friend so seriously, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

It’s been over one hundred year since the families had been at war. One hundred thirty years to be exact. Coco has always been told to hate the Pepsis. “They took everything from us!” His father would say. “Colas are always meant to hate Pepsis and that’s final!”

So how the hell in the world did Coco find himself tied in Poppy’s sex dungeon being pounded by an electric dildo. Poppy was the second eldest son of the Pepsis.

Coco whimpered and cried as he felt the dildo push him to yet another orgasm. Poppy came over to his side and attached small vibrators to his nipples. Coco couldn’t process anything through his brain anymore. The overstimulation had him seeing stars.

Poppy then went around to Coco’s rear-end and whipped him. A gag in Coco’s mouth, making him a slobbering mess. Poppy slowly took off the gag and turned off the electric dildo. He kissed Coco softly all over his body. Whispering to him.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you, Coco? I wouldn’t have to kidnap you and fuck you in this way if you didn’t hate me and my family so much. But you love it don’t you?”

And he did. Coco loved this. The degradation and humiliation. He loved the way he couldn’t say no and just had to take whatever Poppy did to him.

“I’m going to put it in now. And you’re gonna take it all, just like the good slut you are.”

Coco ejaculated at that. God, what Poppy did to him. If this was how good Poppy fucked him, knowing he hated him. He would never tell Poppy how big of a crush he had on him.

“Such a whore on my cock.” Poppy continued upon seeing Coco cum at his words.

Poppy slowly inserted his cock into Coco’s ass. But his hard and fast thrust contradicted the way he slid in. Coco couldn’t help but scream, whimper, drool, and moan, all at the same time. Poppy loved how he sounded but had to keep his little toy quiet. After all, he did kidnap Coco. So he stuck a finger into his mouth. Then two, then three. Coco absolutely went feral for all he was receiving. He immediately sucked on Poppy’s fingers like his life depended on it.

Taking the small stick from the table, Poppy inserted it into Coco’s urethra. Coco could only scream from the pain.

“You can’t cum anymore until I say so and you’re gonna deal with it. Being such a little slut and thinking I wouldn’t notice. What do you think got you in this position.”

Coco couldn’t even think straight. His mind was a jumbled mess.

Knowing that he had Coco in this position, was such a turn on for Poppy. The more he thought about it, the harder he got. All the way until he shot his whole load right into Coco’s anus. But Poppy didn’t stop there. He kept pumping in and out of Coco’s tight ass.

Upon Poppy’s ejaculation, Coco could feel his high approaching again. But that stupid stick kept him from it. He tried to form the most words he possibly could.

“P-p-please…” Coco somehow panted out. “Please, what?” Poppy questioned.

Coco could only reply with, “please…” Poppy chuckled as he lifted Coco’s head to look at him. “C’mon. I know you can do it. You’ve been such a good slut for me. Use your words, bun. Go on..”

“Please let me cum..” Coco cried out. At this, Poppy chuckled and ripped the toy out, letting Coco’s cum spurt all over the place.

After the fact, Poppy peppered Coco in kisses. Thanking him for allowing him to release his cum in him. Coco then turned to Poppy and whispered.

“Did I ever tell you that I also loved you but I was too scared to approach you?”

Poppy seemed shocked at this before giggling and kissing Coco some more.

“Well you have now. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

And that was the start of there very long but secretive relationship. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A.N. Two fanfics in a row, ikr🤭

#Smut #fanfic #mumu writes #friend request

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angelicgaypirate · 2 years

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Pirate's Post OP Trans Girl Tips #1 of 5

I'm now on my second week Post OP for a zero-depth vaginoplasty, and here's some of what I've learned so far.

1: Wingless pads are your friend and angel. Everything is swollen to shit, and those wings WILL find where to chafe you.

2: When you're experiencing surgery emotions and concerning regret, just stick your hand between your legs where your old genitalia would have been. That feeling of nothing brings me joy, it may for you too.

3: Ice Packs and Tylenol are doing more for me than Oxycodone, emphasis on the ice packs.

4: Walking is easier than it feels, you have a damn good range of motion available, and the pain is from standing: If you stand, move.

5: Everything is swollen, so showering is hard, but make sure to wash EVERYWHERE. The blood alone makes ya feel nasty if you don't.

6: it's going to feel like they took your old genitals and just tucked them, they didn't, but the sensation of the tip of your urethra being near your ass or your scrotum being in three places at once takes time to get overwritten. (Clarified in comments)

7: Pooping is going to be terrifying. You might feel like you're going to pop a stitch, and you might rip something, but you have to poop. A stitch popped isn't as big a deal as not pooping for an extended period of time.

8: Peeing is going to be weird, and your stream is gonna go to weird places. Remember that everything is swollen and much of it works itself out (Mine shot up my ass crack yesterday, and today it's way right). Also pee regularly, you're gonna feel it more after the catheter and with a shorter urethra it's harder to hold it.

9: Remember that you're recovering from surgery. With low pain you're gonna feel like super woman. You aren't. You're a piece of glass that thinks it's bulletproof, don't put that to the test. Get bed rest and drink lots of water and cranberry juice.

10: Aye, the pain is gonna piece through you sometimes. Just cause you thought you made the wrong choice while in pain doesn't mean you're right. Post OP emotions are wild, and sometimes you need to ride them out. Having someone nearby to help you will be useful.

11: Akin to what I said earlier, everything is swollen. Nothing looks like it will in the future, it looked different two days ago to today. Give it time, and wait to assess the final product for a while until it's settled into your body.

12: The unnatural feeling like there's plastic wrap down there will fade. It comes from the area your touching not being where you expect. Akin to phantom pain, except this will fade as you re-align your senses to the new anatomy.

That's all I've got for now!! I'm keeping a detailed journal like the librarian I am so I can try and help some others through whatever I go through. I'll post another one of these in a while when I have more!

-Pirate

#vaginoplasty #trans #trans woman #advice #WHY DO PADS NOT FIT ANY UNDERWEAR #OH THATS RIGHT... M E N #journal entry

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transtalk · 3 years

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“Here’s some stuff I’ve learned in my ~12 years since I started transitioning”

*Posted with permission from a Redditor who chooses to remain anonymous. I am over 10yrs into my transition and agree with most of these points. Thought this was a great share to help our younger transmen.

I’m 26 and I started transitioning at 14. I recently passed my 10yrs on T recently and I figured I’d pass on some random knowledge I’ve accumulated in my experience.

Physical stuff:

-Be prepared to outgrow any clothes you buy in the first 5ish years on T. You might think you’re in the clear after a couple years, you’re not. That includes shoes.

-Looking at your father and brothers for an idea of what you might look like on T isn’t always accurate. My dad and brother don’t have much body hair, I’m a damn werewolf. On the other hand, they have full heads or hair. My hair has decided to migrate from my head to, well, everywhere else.

-Mature hairlines are a thing, doesn’t necessarily mean receding. My dad has the former, I have the latter.

-Not all hair follicles grow at the same time. Your beard after not shaving for 2 weeks is not the same as your beard after not shaving 2 months and then trimming it to that same length. Ive had a thick, full beard since I was 20. I had to shave for a neck surgery and for the first month I was back to my patchy teenage beard. Right now, wearing a mask is a great opportunity if you want to try growing it out without looking ridiculous.

-Still train all of your body if you’re trying to get a more masculine physique. You may worry about having a bigger butt or thighs but trust me, it’s still important. Also, it’s not all about shoulders, chest, and arms. The lats and traps are often overlooked.

-Penises sit lower than you think and are smaller than you think. Take that into account when packing. I haven’t been in the market for many years but I pray that there are more options now that aren’t 5+”.

-If you get a hysto, hold a pillow over your belly when you cough. Trust me.

-If you have surgery in general, you’re probably going to be thirsty when you wake up. Go slow when they finally let you have water. I’ve puked on a few nurses… sorry guys.

-If you have bottom surgery with urethral lengthening, you might have extra drops of pee that get stuck. The way your urethra is situated has a different angle so more pee gets trapped in there. Press up on the gooch to get it out. Some cis guys have to do it too, it’s called the taint tap.

-Athletic fit pants are great for big booty bros.

Social/emotional stuff:

-It can be hard to see it sometimes, but plenty of cis guys have the same features you’re dysphoric about. Baby face? I’ve got male coworkers older than me that look like teenagers. Wide hips? Some dudes are bottom heavy. Short? If you pay attention, there’s short guys everywhere. The average guy doesn’t look like Channing Tatum.

-There’s a thin line between dysphoria and dysmorphia. What you see in the mirror could be totally different from what people see when they look at you.

-It’s fine to pee in the stall. Standing or sitting. Nobody gives a fuck. Even after phallo I pretty much exclusively pee in stalls. Less splashback, privacy, and pee time is me time.

-There’s another step to transitioning you might not realize: becoming confident in yourself as a man. It’s easier said than done and it can be a pretty long process. You are a manly fuckin man (or a feminine man, but you’re still a Fuckin man) and you are no less of a man than any other. You will be much happier once you can say that to yourself and truly believe it.

-You don’t owe anything to the trans community. There’s no denying there can be negativity. If it’s taking a toll on your mental health or causing more dysphoria, it’s ok to step back. You’re not obligated to involve yourself just because others in the community have helped you. You owe yourself happiness. It took me way to long to learn that. I pop in online once or twice a year in places like this sub where it typically is a civil environment but I limit it to that.

-Along the same lines, it’s ok to be stealth. You are more than your gender and it’s ok if you don’t want others to define you by that. Again, you don’t owe anybody anything. You can support the trans community without disclosing. Vote in support of trans rights, call people out on their bigotry, donate to charities, etc. And unfortunate as it is, your voice is sometimes more heard as an ally than as a trans person.

-Even if you finished the required therapy to get hormones/surgery it’s good to stick with it if you can. I know it’s not possible financially or time wise for everyone, but if you can, you should. All of your struggles don’t magically disappear when you medically transition. It’s good to have a professional help you process everything. I honestly think most people in general can benefit a lot from therapy.

-You could still have some dysphoria even when you have fully transitioned (whatever you define that as for yourself). Many don’t but it’s not a guarantee. I’m sorry to break that to anyone who is just starting their transition but it’s important to realize. If you recognize it, you can learn to cope. I still feel some dysphoria occasionally about the things I cant change. Mainly that I can’t be the biological father to my children. I have to remember that it’s not genetics that makes a father, it’s love and care.

My experience obviously isn’t going to be the same as everyone else’s but I hope this can help someone a little bit.

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shorkbrian · 4 years

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I wasn’t sure where to go with this, I’ve never dabbled in microphilia but I have been THINKING

(Warnings - obvs microphilia, very NSFW, unsafe sex, noncon. pls do not read if any of the squicks you out)

so like tinker bell quirk? You is small, maybe like the size of a hand (6-7 inches mebbe?). You can turn small for 2-3 hours at the most, but depending on your energy level you’ll stay small no matter what (even if you want to be big) for like an hour. It’s inconvenient in fights, and you wish you were able to turn small AND big at will, but it is what it is.

So I can really only see Bakugou being this depraved (You’re right about Kiri having big thicc balls, but he wouldn’t be this mean). Bakugou would catch you during moments where you were stuck waiting to turn big again, tucked into a corner, hiding away in your room after training - it’s not like you can hangout with everyone or study when you’re this small.

He’s attentive, and since his focus is almost always on you, so it’s impossible to sneak away without him noticing. He’ll go looking for you, searching in corners and small places you might’ve scurried off to. When he finds you, you’re getting snatched up immediately.

The first time it had happened, you’d screamed loud enough to make Bakugou flinch. It was useless, the man only had to threaten to squish you under his shoes if you didn’t behave to make you go quiet as a mouse. You had to do whatever he said.

And Bakugou made it clear; If you refused him, there’d be hell to pay. Would you like to get tossed into a washing machine, with no way out, just waiting to get big again? It’d hurt when you did, all scrunched up in the now too-small machine, waiting for someone to come along and help you out. Or maybe you’d wanna get locked in a freezer, turned into a popsicle for him to suck on?

At least he hadn’t threatened to flush you down a toilet yet.

He whisks you away to his room, stuffing you in his pants pocket if he passes anyone in the halls.

Once in his room, Bakugou isn’t afraid to get creative in how he uses you. Because, well, he doesn’t give you a choice in anything, and you’re only there to serve one purpose to him. You’re there to get him off.

Maybe he’ll sit down at his desk, get all his things out so he can study, then cruelly shove you down into his sweaty boxers. It’s dark, musky, and it smells gross, plus you’re pressed up against his half-hard dick. You cry the first couple of times. Bakugou just pats his crotch (you’re buried in there somewhere, he knows) and tells you to shut up and get to work.

It’s impossible to get him off like that.

Sometimes, he’ll strip completely, lay down on his bed, and drop you onto his chest. As you stand and try to get your bearings, he's pushing you with his middle finger down towards where his dick lies hot and heavy against his belly button. You’re instructed to suck him off - well, essentially just lick and drool and fondle his giant dick with your tiny body. If he’s feeling especially mean, he’ll bark at you to take off your clothes, then pick you up and place you on the flat underside of his dick, holding the tip down with his hand - tells you to rub yourself off on him. It’s humiliating.

Worse is when he deposits you onto his desk, strips out of only his pants, and stays standing. The desk is at the prefect height for him to use his cock to mess around with your small size. He uses his dick to push you around, makes you wrap your hands around him and vigorously jerk him off. Makes you play with his balls too, sits them down onto the desk top and instructs you to give ‘em some love.

You didn’t know what he wanted you to do the first time, so you got a vicious pinch to your ass that you swore left permanent damage. Bakugou wanted you to slobber all over them, push and pull with your hands, slide over them, even get up and try to walk around over them, whatever. Just something. The man wanted stimulation.

Because honestly? He’s not super interested in getting off when you’re this size. Even when you’re regular sized, he isn’t desperate to cum. No, for Bakugou, it’s more about the feeling of power he gets. You’re so small and helpless, he feels like a god when you scurry around, trying to achieve whatever he commands. It’s how obviously humiliated you get whenever he makes you do something - that’s what gets him going.

A couple of times he’s even told you to lay down near the edge of the desk, just so he could gently drop his ballsack on you, watch you almost disappear underneath it. He’d laughed at that.

Bakugou plays with you until you turn big again.

Once you’re big, that's when he finally gets his rocks off, tired of being edged for however long you’ve been small. He wants to cum, and you’re gonna get him there.

He always ends up fucking you, because even when you're “big”, compared to Bakugou, you’re still tiny. His cock makes your tummy bulge out on each thrust, and he presses his thumbs over it while he holds you by the waist. It’s his favorite.

The man has only blown his load when you were itty-bitty once. You had been suckling on the head of his cock, laving over the tip, sinking your tongue deep into his urethra. You had pulled back, decided to be mean for once, and boldly lined up your entire arm with his slit. You had seen porn - men had plus that they shoved in here all the time, right?

Bakugou’s rough, hoarse shout when you shoved your arm inside him was satisfying. It was less satisfying when he pulled back, and your arm fell out of slit covered in precum. Apparently, the shout had been one of pained pleasure, not pure pain like you had hoped.

It was disgusting when his hand flew to his cock, stroking at it furiously as it began spurting out thick cum. The liquid splashed all over you, and at your current size, you almost drowned. It was horrifying. You choked on the amount that shot into your mouth, crying at the taste and viscosity. it settled low in your stomach.

After Bakugou finished cumming his brains out, he smirked down at you, slipping and falling and crying in a puddle of his cum. He was always nice enough to only cum when you were big, were you trying to change that?

You begged him to keep it that way.

So Bakugou only came when you were your regular size. Unfortunately, he never pulled out, too caught up in seeing the way your body stretched and bulged when he filled you up with his thick seed.

He never offered to clean you up, or even help you cum. This was all for his pleasure, and you couldn’t do a thing about it. It was awful.

You could only throw on some clothes, waddle to your room, and cry as you cleaned his cum out of you in the shower.

And if you got yourself off after that, frustrated by Bakugou’s refusal to make you cum while he violated you? That was between you and your showerhead.

You knew it would happen all over again tomorrow, might as well relieve some tension now.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou #bnha bakugou #baku #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo headcanons #mean kat #cruel Katsuki #yandere bakugou #gross bakugou #yandere bnha

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multistanman · 3 years

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Suncream

Fromis_9 Seoyeon x Male Reader

1930 words

Had a rush of ‘inspiration’ after seeing this photo. I can only apologise for my style potentially being jarring or any other issues. I think it was only an hour or so but it’s hard to know when in a ‘boner haze’

Mondays sucked, no two ways about it. Fortunately, you had managed to get the day off work thanks to the manager suddenly having to call in sick due to "unforeseen developments" the night before. So whilst everyone else was going to be stuck inside of a cramped office building on such a fine day, you decided that you were going to spend some time relaxing and taking in rays on the beach. As you had predicted, the beach was mostly empty because, well, who on earth goes to the beach on a Monday morning. There was only one other person present and they seemed quite happy to mind their own business listening to music. With the hope of preventing any unwanted confrontation or awkward interaction (the fateful last words), you put down your towel behind and just right of the other person. But, of course, your luck ran out and you dropped your water bottle straight onto your foot, immediately suppressing the outrageous string of vulgarities you were about to release. Evidently, the attempt was not good enough as the girl lying in front of you turned around, curious of the muffled bottle on human violence occurring behind her. She pulled down her sunglasses for a better view of what was going on. Her eyes were quite stunning, with subtle dark circles surrounding her hazel irises, making her look sort of like a panda. No doubt you looked quite insane in this moment. A man on a beach on a Monday morning bouncing up and down cursing underneath his breath with no apparent cause staring into this random girl's eyes all the while. The girl, however, seemed entirely disinterested, tutted at you and returned to her music and tanning. You eventually got yourself settled onto your towel, taking special care not to drop anything else in slight fear of panda eyes tutting at you again. You stared at the ocean for a wall before you saw the girl moving in your peripheral vision. She had sat up for a drink of water but seemed to be struggling to remove the lid of the bottle. As a chivalrous gentleman, you moved to offer to help. At which point, she did manage to get the bottle open but not in the way one would typically open a bottle. With all the force she was putting into removing the lid, she ended up jerking the bottle upwards when it finally came loose, dousing herself in water. You stopped in an squat halfway between standing up and kneeling, not sure quite what to say or do in the situation. Your knowledge of chivalry only extended so far. A gentleman should not interfere when a lady has gotten wet after all. You both remain still in the end until eventually the girl begins to dry herself off with the towel, looks at you in your strange half squat and tuts again. That was now two tuts you had received in the space of fifteen minutes from this same girl. In a very strange way, it was sort of refreshing to see someone with such little care. Some more time passes as you both return to your original positions until you are once again distracted by her movement. This time it seemed she was re-applying her sun cream. She sneaks a quick glance at you before shaking the bottle up and down and popping the lid up. She squeezes a sizable amount onto her free hand and begins to work it into her abs and stomach. You had become quite entranced by the sun cream-centric performance happening before you as she sensually rubbed the remaining cream into her skin. The girl then moves onto covering her thighs, seemingly not realising that you are watching the whole ordeal with your mouth agape. In order to get her thighs, the girl decides to sit on her knees, giving you a wonderful view of her ass in her denim shorts. Her ass swayed from side to side as she massaged the sun cream into her thighs. It was at this point, that she finally caught you peeking as she looked over her shoulder, clearly feeling your eyes undressing her from behind. You panicked and grabbed the book that was lying next with the goal of looking as smooth and relaxed as possible. You tried to seem as nonchalant as possible as the girl walked up to you and asked "You like what you see huh?" "Yep, I mean this book is amazing. Crazy that you've read it as well, I mean what are the chances of that?" was the best response that you could think of under pressure. She clearly called your bluff as she pulled her sunglasses down so you could see those cute panda eyes again. But, instead of tutting at you again, she hands you the bottle of sun cream and turns around, beginning to tie her hair up into pigtails so that you could properly cover her back. Given that this girl was even talking to you after you had so blatantly ogled her, encouraged you to try and use up all of your luck. You took the bottle and poured some sun cream onto both of your hands. You massaged the sun cream in between the girl's shoulder blades and worked your way up to her nape making sure you to press your palms into all of the sensitive areas. You thought you heard a slight moan but it could have been sunstroke getting to your brain. You finished up the application with some professional masseuse level karate chops and went to hand the bottle back. The girl takes the bottle and you sit back down, still wondering if that was an actual moan that you heard when rubbing it in. That question was quickly answered when the girl straddled you, once again handing you the bottle as she motioned towards her breasts and chest. "How rude to leave a girl uncovered like that" she added before leaning back slightly, inviting you in. You obliged because you were not going to pass up the opportunity to essentially feel this beautiful girl's breasts as she was sat on your lap. As you poured more sun cream onto your hands, the girl removed the mesh top she was wearing leaving her only in her vanilla bralette, shorts and a necklace hanging perfectly between her breasts. Her breasts were not the largest but they were pushed up nicely by the top and they fit her smaller frame nicely. By this point, she had also removed her sunglasses and was sat looking expectantly at you with those damned panda eyes. You tentatively began to rub the sun cream into her chest but she grabs your hands and pulls them onto her tits and starts massaging herself with your hands. She bites her lip seductively and pushes you down onto your towel. You both look into each other's eyes as you feel her hands work up underneath your shirt feeling up your chest and abs. Your lips locked as she caressed your upper body and your tongues collided in an unholy mess as she tried to assert her dominance over you. You were quite happy to take the backseat and let her do the work on top of you. She got tired of your mouth as her hands walked their way down to your shorts, unbuttoned them and pulled down both your shorts and boxers just enough that she could pull your now erect cock out. Without any hesitation or adjustment, she takes your whole cock into her mouth and looks up at you. It seemed strange to admit but the panda eyes + mouth full of your dick really was a good look for her. She twisted and jerked the base of your cock with her hand as she sucked up and down still maintaining the eye contact. You felt your toes stretch and crunch as she ran her tongue up the underside of your cock and finished by licking your urethra and you knew you were coming close to cumming. You relayed this information to the girl and she immediately stopped sucking your dick, edging and teasing you. The girl gets off your lap but only to remove her own shorts, revealing the lack of underwear underneath. She once again straddles your lap this time with her naked vagina lips lined up above your cock. She slowly lowers herself down, allowing some adjustment this time as you lustfully buck your hips upwards trying to bury your hilt further and further. She continues sinking down until your penis is fully inserted at which point she starts bouncing up and down on top of you. During this, the girl starts massaging her own breasts and adjusts her previously-formed ponytails, unsure where to put her hands. Seeing this, you push your back up slightly, grab hold of the ponytails yourself and pull her down towards you as you engage in another chaotic makeout session. This elicits a cute giggle from the girl on her way down as she continues riding you and you try to match the rhythm by bucking your own hips upwards, pushing as deep as possible. You match her tempo perfectly and she has to stop kissing you to moan right into your ear. You were already close from the edging earlier and that moan just about pushed you over the edge. You tapped the girl's back and she seemed to instantly catch on to what you meant as she got up off of you. You were expecting her to kneel down and keep jerking you but instead she rolled you off your own towel and lay down in your place and whispered two words that you could not have been happier to hear. "Paint me" You stood up and jerked your cock as the beautiful girl you had just randomly met on your day off lay below you with no bottoms on and waiting for you to cum on her. It didn't take much as you sprayed white streaks of cum, initially, on those succulent abs that you had watched her rub sun cream into earlier before working your way up to her face and neck. The girl smiled the whole way through as she sat up with your cum starting to run down her nose and lips. She thanks you as she rubs the cum into her abs as if it was sun cream. She allows the cum on her face to stay there as she redresses herself with the discarded clothes. You stand there in disbelief at whatever has just happened. The girl goes back to her bags and fiddles around with something for a bit before coming back over to you. She walks straight past before giving you a love tap on your naked ass before telling you to pull your shorts back up and then just leaves. You quickly restore your dignity, not wishing to be caught naked by some stranger. Although, thinking about what just happened with that girl, maybe it wouldn't be a such a bad interaction. As you go back to relax on your towel and gather your scrambled thoughts you feel a piece of paper in the pocket of your shorts. "Thanks for the cum, stranger. Much better than sun cream ;) Thinking about going camping soon, hmu (0XX-XXX-XXXX) Seoyeon" There was a cute little panda face scribbled at the bottom of the note and you put it back in your pocket, making a mental note to call that number later on. Mondays sucked a whole lot less now...

Thank you for reading, any feedback welcome. Wrote it quickly just because I had a rush of inspiration really.

#smut #fromis_9 #seoyeon #fromis seoyeon

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secretsniper2 · 3 years

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Part 3: New Home

You wake to the sound of an engine, and the strong hum from the toys lodged deep in your body, your still waking up after finally passing out last night but your well aware, when you completely wake up you'll be back on the edge of more orgasms and can barely move a inch to show your desperation. Moaning loud you don't expect to be heard over the combination of the engine and the device your sealed inside, clamped shut your body lays flat in the form, externally it looks like a sleeping woman with her arms by her side, inside your not sleeping, and your far from willing either. Muscles tensing uncontrollably in your pussy and ass and even the muscles in your urethra, you didn't know those muscles could shake so hard till now, but it only serves to push more of you down on the buzzing toys.

Rocking back and forth as the ride bucks you around in your rigid cast you can feel your body shift to a weird angle, your driving up a hill now. Even with your body shaking from the motions of the car, your holes shake far more than you would want them to. After what seems like hours, locked inside this hot cocoon covered in your own sweat, the engine stops and you catch your breathe as you barely hear movement outside your confinement. your eyes slam shut as a helpless “MMMPPPHHHH!!” is wrenched from your throat as fresh juices gush from your abused pussy as your body fully awakens to the savage stimulations you have been assaulted by, your mind locked only on the possibility of having a orgasm, you have been on the edge of a massive orgasm for a full day now, with no rest or stop in sight not that you could see very far with these contacts stealing your vision.

A sudden movement jolts you out of your overstimulated haze as your cruelly rolled around onto your chest, breasts pushing hard against the lid of your prison, continuing on your glad to at least be on your back again, breathing would have been hard with your breasts squeezing your lungs, feeling your body lurch forward your encased feet dig into the ground. turning on your heels your pulled by the head of your case at a uncomfortable angle, too far back to lay on your back and not up straight enough to stand, you resort to ramming your lips with your knees a few times but due to the tight fir your only able to pathetically tap against the lid, barely audible and likely would only make the sick fucker laugh at the attempt.

“How much longer will he drag me?” and “where the fuck am i?!” are the only 2 questions you want answers to right now as you continue your journey to nowhere good. At long last your placed on the ground, your thankful he didn't just drop you to the hard ground, a few clicks and your greeted with a bright light, even with your contacts dulling your vision, your straps are loosened and your eased out of your prison and set, shakily on your toes, still having your toe crushers locked to your poor feet, you teeter on the stones you stand on. Having a collar and leash locked around your thin neck your pulled forwards while you squint, desperate to recognise even a small detail that would clue you in to where you are now, you can make out a large building ahead. “Welcome home slut!” he says with a slight laugh, repulsing you at your very core, your home was a beautiful place, with everything you wanted and needed to get by, now your forced to walk in the only item you actually own.

Pushing the door open your pulled inside by the neck as you stumble to keep your balance as best you can, for what you can see, its dark and has a very foul odour, you take a light breath through the tube in your mouth, the filthy air moving over your tongue and makes you gag a little, shuddering you resort to breathing through your nose, however unpleasant it may be. Pulled suddenly your led around a corner and the man pushes a bookcase aside, revealing a door which you are then led down. The man is having a easier time walking down the stone stairs than you are, for 1 he is wearing boot and your walking on your toes, Eventually landing on a flat surface your leash continues to tug at your neck as you follow in the darkness, your eventually left to stand alone in a dark room in a house you cant escape, in heels you can barely walk in, the stairs behind you would tear your legs muscles apart if you tried to run up them. A arm wraps around you from behind, he grips your firm breast with 1 of his large hands as his other hand trails down your exposed back and rests on your ass, you involuntarily shake your ass in fear as he now has you at 2 ends and is happy with your condition.

“i hope you enjoyed the ride down, I'm sure you did in 1 way at least” he remarks as the hand cupping your ass moves between your legs and slides through the juices you likely trailed through the house till now. “i guess i don't need lube for here, I'm really going to enjoy fuck this tight cunt!” he says in your ear, shaking your head weakly as he speaks results on your nipple being seized hard and squeezed painfully forcing a gagged “mmmpppphhh nnnnnnhhh” from your mouth, the strap between your legs serving its purpose as the toys are held in deep, your womb shaking as the toy vibrates inside. Rocking your head back as your pleasure hits another peak without release your captor pushed you from the small of your back as well as pulling from your nipple, your directed further into the darkness, your contacts making sure that even if this mans eyes can adjust to the dark, your will never be able to. Your knee bumping into something hard your pushed forward as you scream out in fear, only to be caught by a bed, landing face down in its embrace you inhale deep in surprise only to regret in mere seconds later as the bed itself makes upstairs smell like a thanksgiving roast!

Holding your head into the mattress you gag uncontrollably now as your forced to keep breathing the revolting scent, feeling his hot breath against your ear he whispers “yea, that's right, your not the first cunt to be fucked down here, but i like you so much you'll be my last, at least for the next few years!”. Eyes open wide as he puts his weight down on top of you your forced further into the bed, its still damp in some places! “i fucked a nice young cunt on this very bed, i think it was 2 days before i saw you actually! she's gone now though, don't need to worry what happened to that slut, i know she enjoys her new life wherever she is!” he grunts into your ear, “this bit here” he pushes your face directly on a particularly wet spot, “this is where i finally broke the bitch, she came harder than ever and it all soaked in right here! you can practically taste her pussy cant you!” he says as he rubs your face into the wet spot before pushing you onto your back and up the other side of the bed. At least your not being forced to smell the other poor girl, but now your face is looking up as he reaches behind your head and unclips your gag, pulling it out of your mouth your ungagged for the first time “HHEEEEEEELLLLPP MEEE!!” is all you manage before your mouth is covered by his hand. “really pointless move there cunt, were deep underground in a private house in the middle of nowhere, and even IF your voice made it out of the house there wouldn't be another person around to hear you!” he whispers in your face, tears streaming down your face.

Your leash is attached to the top of the bed and the man pushes your legs open, not really having much strength to fight after your constant edging, you feel your crotch strap loosen and your vibrator removed from your pussy. it takes little effort on his part to pull his cock out of his pants and even less to push his hard cock in your flooding pussy, thrusting straight to your womb you blink back tears as he continues to hold your mouth closed, lowering his head to suck on your rigid nipples as he thrusts inside. Uncovering your mouth you whimper as he continues pounding your abused pussy with no care for your needs, your little button desperate for a touch, 1 touch to cum is all she would need in this state, but where every thrust would slam his body on your button, the shield now blocks that, constant denial is all you get as he cums hard inside you without stopping or even slowing down.

Seems like a lifetime passes, but its only been a hour, a whole hour of him ramming your sore pussy with load after load pumped directly inti your womb, “don't worry about the mess, i got something to clean you out every day, your going to love it!” he says with a laugh at the end which makes you believe otherwise, your going to hate every second of whatever he has to clean you with which only serves to make you clench in a mix of fear and anticipation oddly.. The man returns with something in each hand, dropping a cold metal thing on your chest you hear him open a can, “id offer you a drink but i don't have cum in a can, ill pick some up for you tomorrow though.” he says as he takes a drink of his beer. “this thing here is a shower head, its going to be inside your cunt when i turn it on, you'll be a waterfall for me every night!” he says with a loud laugh and all you can do with cry out “p-please don't..” which only serves to make him laugh more and answer with a “keep begging slut, your making me harder than diamonds!” causing more tears to run down your face.

Sitting on your hips the map begins to unstrap your straightjacket, pulling your weak arms from the bindings its quickly strapped in leather wristbands and locked to the top corners of your “new” bed your arms now lay against some rather sticky stains you shudder to imagine what it is.. laying on the bed your ass and urethra continue to hum madly inside you, “please let me cum” you manage to say through a sore throat, “i need to cum” to which he looks at your shielded clit and taps the case, “you want me to play with this little thing don't you” he says, clearly pointing at your covered button, nodding furiously at his question. “be a good little slave and i may make you cum on Christmas!“ the man laughs as he slaps your pussy harder than ever, “its all about me down here, you got that? i don't give a shit if you don't cum, your cunt is keeping itself all lubed up and ready for a fucking anytime! why would i ruin that so you can have a fucking orgasm??” the man was clearly not going to let you cum its as simple as anything could be.

Pushing your vibrator back inside your throbbing pussy he rams it back into your sensitive womb and walks away, leaving you to the mercy of the 3 powerful toys pulsing away inside you. “PLEASE!! PLEASE LET ME CUUM!!” you scream as you hear a door close upstairs. your all alone again with your holes filled with strong toys, held on edge once again but at least your mouth isn't gagged, but if what the man said was true, there isn't anyone around for a long time and you don't know how far he took you in his car! your just laying on this seedy rape bed while your only form of clothes would be your toe crushers still adorning your feet. Hearing the door open once again the man returns to your bedside with a hose in his hand, “i think I'm going to put your cunt to sleep early so i think ill clean it out now, while pumping you full is on my mind!” he laughs as he connects the hose to the showerhead he mentioned earlier, removing your vibrator he lines up the long, cold metal dildo and slowly pushes the freezing cock into your pussy. “Stop PLEASE IT COLD!!” you start to scream as the man continues to push it slowly inside you, your womb swallowing the tip greedily, betraying you.

Getting the dildo in as deep as it can go your rewarded with a blast of freezing water in your womb! cramping ever muscle you have your pussy clamps down hard on the metal cock as the man begins to brutally fuck you with it, pumping constantly as freezing water gushes from your pussy, the pain and numbness setting in as fast as the water flows, the tap it turned off and the water stops. its over for now.. but you remember he said this was your new daily routine.. “please don't.. not again!” you manage to cry out only to be met with laughter, “if you don't shut up its going in your ass next! how long till the water runs out your pretty mouth i wonder!” your mouth slams shut instantly at those words, you don't know and you never want to know… Hearing him stand and turn he call to you as you lay on your bed, legs and pussy covered in freezing water, muscles all over your body cramping constantly, “now gets some sleep cunt, your going to need it!” as he closes the door, leaving you alone again to do as he said.. your eyes close and you drift to sleep quickly, clearly exhausted after a day like this with tomorrow only promising fresh new horrors.

#Stories #Custom

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joshslater · 4 years

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Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I would normally be able to roughly keep track of time by how thirsty I was. Master didn't usually tie me up, but there had been many scenes planned by others that had kept me in different kinds of bondage for many hours. This was different on a whole new level. The penis gag kept leaking small amounts of something not quite water. It was the same viscosity, but it tasted more like cum. Perhaps diluted cum, but that wouldn't taste as much as this did, I would guess. It would slowly drip from the end of the rubber dick, back in the mouth where you could easily accidentally inhale it instead. And since you are gagged you can only cough out the liquid through your nose. You quickly learn you can suck it and get a full shot at once, and then nothing for like a few minutes until it starts to trickle again. Makes it bearable, but keeps you awake. I'm getting off-topic I guess. I'm exhausted. I would think that's understandable as this has been by far my longest session, days possibly. I have no way to tell.

This isn't the first time they've changed something or moved my position, but this is the first time they are letting me walk. What a sight that must have been. I could feel them remove the restraints and the other things, one by one. All except the gag, the hood, and the chastity cage. God, that cage has probably been worse than any of the other stuff they did. I have no idea what nasty stuff they smeared on my dick, but I would happily fuck a tube of bengay instead any time. After they smeared the dick in whatever that was they slipped on the tight cage, the kind the also go up the urethra. I've been caged before many times, but pretty soon it just sits there, keeping you horny and impotent. But this shit, it acted as viagra gel, constantly keeping my dick struggling to break free. I can feel it's still trying. But I'm rambling again I guess.

It's the mental version of what pathetic spasms I do when they help me up to walk once the bondages were off. There are at least two of them I can feel, one on each side helping me up, and supporting my steps forward. I feel my mobility is getting back, though we are slowly going somewhere. I can't see where though, for the black sock or whatever covering my head. We are indoors, but it is a bit chilly. That might just be me being naked and suddenly have a blood flow. The floor feels like concrete, I think. Hard and cold.

We walk pretty far, only turning once, and the sound I hear sounds like echoes of a corridor. We turn right and walk into a new room. I can hear more people here, though no one is speaking. After a few turns my guides stop me and something is rolled towards me from behind. I can hear them fiddle with something, then they grab me again, and one of them tells me to sit down slowly. They still hold me, guiding me to whatever I'm supposed to sit on. I suddenly feel a blunt point going up between my ass cheeks. Another butt plug or similar. I slowly lower myself onto it. It is well lubed, and I have had far bigger things up my ass just in the last hour, so I manage to impale myself easily and sit myself down on the modified office chair. It might not be a very thick plug, but it goes deep. Hands grab booth my ankles and pull them backward on either side of the central pole below the seat and I can feel them being secured in some sort of padded, stiff shackles mounted below the seat. Finally I hear a wheel on the side of the chair being turned quickly. I feel the butt plug slowly expanding in my ass, forcing me to sit more and more upright. Certainly more than what I would have liked with the legs folded back the way they are. Then they leave.

I'm more or less naked, secured to a chair, but my arms are free for the first time in I don't know how long. I had cuffs on while master took me to this place. I'm fighting the urge to stretch my arms. I don't know what this is, but if it is a test, I want to succeed. I suppose I could remove my face sock in one quick motion, but that would definitely be a fail. I don't think I want to touch my dick. As painful as it is right now, I don't think it will be any better if I mess with it. Nothing will improve, and then someone will see it and punish me. Who are the other people in this room? I can hear breathing. Are they spectators, or are they secured to furniture like me?

This is worse. When you are tied up you are helpless. You can test the strength of your bondage, but they have so far been rated far above what I can muster in strength. But here you are just sitting almost free, with no idea what to do with your arms. Just waiting, listening, and sucking rubber dick. How is it still feeding liquid by the way? I try to lean back, to see if there is a backrest to the chair, but the buttplug makes it impossible to lean that far back. I know it isn't possible, but it feels like the plug is reaching all the way up to my lungs. Or is it possible?

There's a distant sound getting closer. Several steps getting closer and closer. Once they get into the room, somewhere to my right, I hear them walk to a spot just next to me. Then the same rolling sounds, and the same voice telling the person next to me to sit down slowly. I guess the other people in this room are in the same situation as I am.

They complete the same procedure as was done to me, best I can determine from the sounds. Then they leave, and it's all calm and silent again. You would think I would be used to that by now, after having master tell me to sit somewhere and wait, only to be gone for hours. He doesn't allow me to watch TV or read books, so all I have is to think about what has happened recently, what I'm feeling right now, and on the rare occasion what was long ago. That's on purpose of course, so my thoughts center on master, myself and nothing else, but I can't help thinking like something has been taken from me. Thoughts I might have had.

Footsteps again, lots of them. How long was it since they left us? I tried to keep count of how many times I suck the gag dry, but gave up when I came to about eighty for the third time. I think it was the third time. They don't talk. Their steps all sound the same. It must be at least four of them.

I'm completely unprepared when someone behind me pulls the sock off my head and the light of the room burns my eyes. I haven't seen any light since master put a gym bag over my head, however many days ago. The entire wall on the left is windows. This is a run-down classroom, almost stripped bare. The green blackboard is still on the wall in front of me, and on the small elevation where once a teacher's desk stood a man is standing. There is a desk in front of me, out of reach, with some papers and a pen neatly placed on top of it. There's a line of desks. I look to my sides and see five other naked men locked to modified office chairs. All have a gag secured around their head, with a transparent plastic tube attached to the gag in one end, and a drip bag hanging on an IV stand next to them. This isn't just a weekend at one of master's friend's home.

The man in front of us simply stands still, observing us. Handsome, muscular, short hair, black boots, blue jeans, and white T-shirt. Once bored with our puzzled looks he starts to speak to us.

"Congratulations. Your master has decided to improve you to better serve him. I don't know your master, or what he has done to you before, but I'm pretty sure this next part of your life is going to be your toughest so far. I'm not going to tell you how long this training program is. I'm not going to tell you what you will learn and unlearn. I'm not going to tell you what alterations will be made to your body. But I am telling you that your master knows the answer to these questions, and have handed over you and a sizeable amount of money to implement these changes."

He makes a sweeping gesture in our direction.

"These are your classmates. You will never learn their names, should they still have any." He made a crooked smile. "Though I guess you will be very familiar with what each and every one of them smells and tastes like. While the majority of the program here is the same for all of you, there are some customizations that are unique to you, as per your master's wishes. Parts of the program have already started. No doubt you have reflected on the uncomfortable feeling in your dick and balls. As you know all too well the point of a chastity device is not only to control when you get hard, but also to create an ever-present low hum of horniness, so you are always ready to please. A side effect, though some see it as a bonus, is the ever-shrinking dick size after prolonged wearing."

I wasn't sure what the rules were, but one of my hands sought its way down to touch my cage. I got a wave of dull ache in response. The man's eyes shifted to me, but he showed no change in expression and continued to talk uninterrupted.

"The process you have all started will rapidly accelerate this, both in terms of horniness and dick shrinkage. When you leave here you'll have not much more than a circumcised dick head rubbing against your panties, leaking precum, and keeping you horny. You won't need a dick cage. You'll be unable to play with your dick anyway without a vibrator."

Suddenly someone behind me pushes the chair forward, stopping just behind the small desk. Everyone else has been moved forward as well.

"In front of you is a contract waiving any rights and objections you might have to this education and to any modifications done to you. Nothing done so far is irreversible, but once you graduate we will have done our utmost to make it impossible for you to go back to a normal life. We're talking permanent physiological changes. You think it is water you're sipping on?"

He made a pause, letting it all sink in. I love my master, and this past year with him has been lovely, but is it all I want out of life. What does he mean by physiological changes? Can you actually develop a dependency for sucking dick? Is that what he means?

There is a spray of mist coming out of the man to my right. Sounds like he tried to not swallow any more of the liquid after what he just heard. He makes horrible noises while he recovers. No one moves an inch towards him to help him.

"Read the contract if you want. Put your initials on every page. Sign the last page."

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13atoms · 3 years

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Deep Focus: Chapter 3 [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Summary: Tom is a successful porn director with a romantic streak which proves very popular with his female audience. His resident porn actress and business partner has been with him through thick and thin, the two of them growing completely inseparable, even as her own career starts taking off. But working in such close proximity is intense, and burgeoning feelings threaten to complicate their professional relationship.

Mature, smut, porn director!AU, ethical porn production discussion, porn-star-and-coworker!reader. Friends to lovers, slow-ish burn. This chapter: no smut, light hurt / comfort, all fluff. Warnings for usual stuff + UTI talk [6k] Ao3 link

You woke up in agony. With an ache through your entire lower body, and that distinctive, painful need to piss that made you want to cry. After a few dazed moments in the bathroom, you realised what was wrong, and bit back tears as at the overwhelming sensation cramping through your entire lower body.

Before you’d even googled the symptoms, you knew Urinary Tract Infection would be at the top of your screen. Next to it, a new message from Tom, asking some question about a file he couldn’t find.

Fuck off, you wanted to send back, crawling back to bed and struggling to focus on the words as the burning sensation refused to subside. Another message followed it:

Tom: Actually no rush, we can go over it in the office.

A few more seconds, and he’d sent:

Tom: Does 12 still work

Tom: I’ll bring snacks :)

That stupid smiley face. He still couldn’t work out emojis. Usually it would endear him to you, but instead it brought tears to your eyes, your duvet both a comfort and unbearably stifling as you wrapped yourself around it, desperately shifting your hips to find a position which might numb the burning pain from that fucking UTI.

You were hungry, shaky, and you knew if you wanted painkillers you’d have to get food. But it was so far away. And the thought of cooking food made you want to throw up. Or scream into the pillow.

Your phone buzzed again.

Tom: ?

It wasn’t his fault. You knew it wasn’t his fault. Even if he had written the script and directed the scene and then trapped you into a heartwarming conversation which had definitely given bacteria the chance to destroy your urethra and bladder after hours of being fucked and fingered and you were going to kill him if he sent one more fucking text.

Grumpy and in pain and curled up in bed, it felt exhausting to even compose a short text which was polite enough to not hurt his feelings.

Sorry, don’t think I can make it in. Need a sick day.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and considering just sucking it up and going in to the office. Maybe if you could grin and bear it, it might take your mind off things. Then you needed to piss again, pain pulsing in your entire lower abdomen, and you cursed the day you ever took the damn job. As you limped to and back from the bathroom, grabbing a huge glass of water on the way, the insistent buzz of your phone interrupted your pity party.

Of course it was Tom calling you.

You thought about not picking up, but you knew he’d only worry more. And some small part of you wanted the sympathy, as you forced yourself to chug water you knew would burn on the way out and lamented the bloated pain in your bladder.

“Hey, Tom.”

A second after you picked up, he was already in a full blown speech.

“Hey! Are you okay? What’s going on? You should have said you weren’t feeling well yesterday, we didn’t need to shoot. It’s – ”

He trailed off, and you smiled at the sound of his huff down the phone, his frustration at himself as he realised he wasn’t giving you space to talk. Even as the pain in your lower stomach demanded your attention, you caught yourself smiling.

“I’m fine, just feeling a bit worse for wear.”

For a beat he was silent, but you could imagine the furrow in his brow, the way his eyes would soften with concern if you could see his face.

“What’s really wrong?”

His voice was so soft, laced with that rare kind of sincerity that left you feeling like he truly, truly cared, and suddenly you realised you were crying. Stumbling over your words, face screwed up from discomfort, you knew you should be mortified to be sobbing down the phone to him. But Tom wouldn’t care.

“I’ve got a UTI, and it really fucking hurts. I should have peed straight after the shoot yesterday but I forgot and I don’t think I can get out of bed. I’m really sorry, I’ll – I’ll make up on the work. Email me what I need to do I just… I can’t do it today,” you choked out.

On the other end of the phone, you could hear Tom was moving.

“Oh, darling. Don’t even think about the work. You don’t need to apologise. I’m… what do I need to do? I’m on my way over.”

You wouldn’t expect anything less, the unguarded concern and tinge of panic in his voice catching you off-guard with how sweet it was. He was really worried. The conversation from yesterday loomed large in your memory – was he just worried about losing his biggest talent? You knew that wasn’t true, cursing yourself as soon as the thought flitted through your mind. He really cared.

Background noise leaked through the call as he put his phone on speaker, the jangle of keys and the sound of doors slamming telling you he was getting ready to leave.

“Tom, it’s fine. Please. I don’t need you to look after me,” you protested, “just the day off is great.”

He said your name lowly, almost a whine, and you knew he wouldn’t be discouraged whatever you said.

“I’m fine…” you returned, equally stubborn. You expected him to laugh, but instead the phone was returned to his ear, his voice clear as glass, with all of his decisive firmness.

“You said you couldn’t get out of bed. I’m coming over.”

It was enough to forget the discomfort you felt, your heart clenching at his protectiveness. You could keep fighting him – some part of you didn’t want him seeing you sick – but in truth it sounded really nice to be looked after. You curled up tighter in your bed, the screen of the phone cooling against your overheated cheek.

“So I’ll ask again,” he continued, “is there anything I can do to help?”

“Could you grab some cranberry juice on the way over? And maybe some junk food?”

“Of course. You should have just asked.”

“Thank you.”

Your voice sounded impossibly small, some admission of weakness, but Tom didn’t acknowledge it. He chatted for a bit longer, the sounds of the city playing in snatches alongside his baritone as he walked through the streets, blathering and giving you advice and smothering you with sympathy as he rushed over. It made you smile as you just listened, distracted a little from the pain and pressure in your bladder, as he offered completely vague and generic advice about looking after yourself.

It was nice. To have someone care for you that much. He was completely forgiven for his hand in causing you all that pain to start with.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to a doctor?”

You heard him stop walking, no longer distracted from his worry as it leeched into his voice. You could imagine the little row of shops he was standing outside of, the faded shopfronts he was staring down.

“I’ll be fine, Tom.”

“There’s a pharmacy on the way –”

“No!” you laughed, imaging his frustration as it was accompanied by the beeping of traffic lights.

He only hung up as he entered a shop, promising he wasn’t too far away, and as the line went dead you realised you’d been smiling for the past five minutes.

When Tom arrived you were just leaving the bathroom, rushing to the door and drying your hands on your sweatpants, fighting to stand normally even as a fresh burning pain demanded your attention.

He was juggling bags as you let him in, one in his arms and a backpack weighing him down.

“Hey!” he greeted, bustling past you to the kitchen, leaving you to close the door behind him.

You privately liked it when he was like this – on a warpath. It happened on set quite a lot, everything else forgotten as he found a goal and the blinders went on. You were usually there to balance him out – to remember to talk to people and do the boring stuff.

His current warpath was rummaging through your cupboards, muttering about all the things you needed to be given to feel better. He turned to face you slightly out of breath, a completely over reactionary panic in his eyes.

“I got you breakfast too, I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten.”

As he set his backpack down on your kitchen counter, unpacking pastries and painkillers and snacks, you wondered what you had done to deserve Tom. Without thinking, ignoring the fact you were just wearing sweats and probably needed a shower, you hugged him. Pulling you closer to him without hesitation, you felt Tom smile against you.

You blamed the pain, the hunger, the stupid bacteria, for the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you murmured into the hug.

Tom squeezed you just a little bit tighter, one hand tensing where it splayed flat against your shoulder blade. He refused to let you go first.

“Of course,” he murmured back.

Finally you stepped back, ducking you head to avoid his eyeline, turning your attention to the stuff he’d brought. Tom seemed to take a second to snap out of his daze, his overwhelming energy momentarily sapped, allowing the moment to fade away.

As he started to unpack the bag, you realised just how overboard he had gone. Every brand of cranberry juice you could imagine. You got a narrative of everything he bought as he stacked it in front of you, batting your hands if you tried to help.

“I know you said not to, but I spoke to a pharmacist on the way over. He said you don’t need to see a doctor unless it’s bad for another three days, then they might give you antibiotics. I got you paracetamol too – he said that was best.”

Two boxes of pills emerged from the bag, followed by chocolate.

“Since you feel rough,” he explained sheepishly, before pulling out more pills, “and I also got Vitamin C tablets. Those are supposed to help. Snacks for lunch…”

He’d practically bought you the whole corner shop, and you bit back a fond smile as he filled the fridge.

“…and cranberry juice. As requested.”

You were about to thank him, the words trapped in your mouth at just how overboard he had gone, but Tom was already speaking again.

“I know he said just to give you painkillers, but if it gets worse I will take you to see a doctor. Your kidneys might be at risk if it doesn’t clear up soon –”

You sat down heavily in the kitchen, pulling your legs closer to yourself as the pain spiked for a moment, making Tom twist to face you in concern. It fucking hurt, but you wouldn’t let him see that. With a huff of laughter, you tugged at his arm to sit beside you.

“Tom! You are mothering me to death,” you teased, feeling your cheeks burn hot at his attention.

“I’m hopefully mothering you to make you feel better, darling.”

Damn him, for being so sweet. You felt yourself blush under the attention.

“Just because you need me to find that file!” you shot back, trying not to stare at the way his teeth worried his bottom lip.

His eyes met yours intensely, purposefully, and for a second you remembered his uncanny ability to be so sincere it felt like he was staring right through you.

“It’s not just work. I care about you,” he told you candidly. You almost couldn’t bear to listen to it. “I was so worried when you said you were sick. I hoped you were just hungover or something.”

Snorting a laugh, you tried to break the heaviness of the atmosphere. It sounded horrifically unnatural. Tom didn’t even crack a smile.

“There’s a reason we start at 12 most days,” you teased, before sensing you’d somehow gotten the mood entirely wrong. Tom stayed quiet.

“Thank you,” you tried again, voice more sincere as you tried to match him, wincing as you shifted your hips, “I do really appreciate it. So much. I was just going to lie in bed and be miserable, and this is actually making me feel better.”

You’re making me feel better. The thought went unsaid.

“I’m glad.”

The pair of you ate in silence for a while, Tom working on an orange as you munched through the breakfast he’d brought you. Every few bites, you caught his concerned gaze on you.

“You should have told me straight away. And we’ll get you the week off work.”

You went to protest, but he’d strategically spoken as you had a mouth full of food. He ploughed on.

“No arguments. We can reschedule the shoot on Thursday, or hire someone else.”

“Tom, no. I’ll be fine once I’ve down the… three cartons of cranberry juice you bought. How much do I owe you, by the way?”

“Not a penny.”

“Tom!”

He ignored your complaints, silently moving to stand instead. As Tom searched for a glass, opening random cupboards, you picked a carton to chug cranberry juice from with all the grace of a frat boy. Tom laughed at first, before resting on hand on your arm as you forced yourself to drink as much as you could.

“You’ll make yourself sick!” he protested, and you finally conceded defeat and put down the remaining half of the carton.

“Better than this UTI,” you grumbled, “cranberry juice usually clears them pretty quick.”

He left you to it for a while as you forced down the sickly sweet cranberry juice (not your favourite brand, you decided, but it would do) and finished your breakfast.

Assuming he was responding to emails you sat quietly, letting him focus while you enjoyed the food, until you caught the banner of WebMD at the top of his screen. You sighed, and Tom’s focus was on you in a second, worry in the lines of his forehead.

“Is it bad?” he asked quietly, glancing down at the hand firmly place on your lower stomach.

“It’s not ideal,” you conceded.

He bit his lip, and you knew he was sinking further into a pit of worry.

“People have them all the time. Stop reading that, I’ll be okay!”

“I just get scared. Whenever I see what you go through at work, I – ”

“You make it sound like I’m suffering some terrible fate, Tom. It’s my job, and I have to do it. This could have happened from anything.”

You cut yourself off before you could accuse him of overreacting. He was sincerely worried. You didn’t want to mock that.

“You could get a hot water bottle, if you don’t mind?” you suggested, “That helps sometimes.”

He was on his feet before you finished speaking, rummaging through cupboards and flicking the kettle on. It seemed like a good solution, to give him a task. You chewed your last bite of croissant slowly as you watched him.

Sweet, sweet Tom. It was dangerous to admit, but you had no idea what you would do if he wasn’t in your life. You watched the line of his slim build as he strode around your kitchen, filling the hot water bottle and testing the heat of it against his hand before he guided you to stand.

“Come and sit on the sofa, love.”

One hand outstretched, a fluffy water bottle grasped against his side, curls dishevelled, you were taken aback yet again by just how rare Tom was. You often wondered if he had some secret partner you’d never heard about, some situationship or wife or something he kept hidden from you.

It just didn’t seem possible a man like this could go home to an empty house. Your heart ached for him, sometimes. His loneliness, as he fought to climb the ladder in such a harsh industry with that ridiculously soft heart of his.

Then he was calling your name, stepping closer with concern on his face, reaching for your jaw as you stood dazed.

“Sweetheart?”

“Sorry,” you blinked, trying to snap out it, stumbling forwards a little as you tried to reassure him you were fine.

One hand still rested awkwardly on your aching lower stomach, and Tom was shoving the hot water bottle beneath it, arms ready to brace you if you fell. Fuck. Embarrassment overtook your senses, tears starting to well in your eyes, as you realised just how shit you felt.

Tom was muttering about sitting down, guiding you as if you couldn’t navigate to your own sofa without help, a helpless concern on his face which was making your heart ache with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered again as he helped you sit, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to pee, by a fresh pain in your stomach. By Tom’s hands on you, the smell of his cologne and the concerned crinkle of his forehead as he knelt on the ground in front of you.

Leaning forwards, you tried to be subtle as you shoved the hot water bottle tighter against your lap and grit your teeth against the fresh wave of discomfort. Those painkillers had better kick in soon. With your eyes clenched shut you didn’t have to see Tom’s concern, didn’t have to imagine yourself weak and useless in his eyes. Even so, your embarrassment about him witnessing you like this was potent. You hardly felt like you were in your own body, confused and clumsy. You realised you were still gripping Tom’s hand, probably hurting his fingers as you squeezed involuntarily from the pain.

You let go suddenly, gasping as you remembered to breathe, hand covering your own eyes instead.

He was watching silently, and it unnerved you more than his rambling. Under the mask of your fingers you opened your eyes, seeing the fold of his knees against the floor and the wringing of his hands in his lap.

All you could hear was your breathing and his, slow and fast respectively.

Fuck, you needed to piss again. Damn cranberry juice. The knowledge that it would flush your system was all the comfort you could grasp as the uncomfortable pressure in your bladder became abruptly unbearable and the pain seemed to swell further, somehow.

You thought for a moment, your brain ticking along painfully slowly with exhaustion and pain, enjoying the darkness of your eyes screwed closed beneath your palm.

Ignore Tom. Stand up. Get to the bathroom. Pee.

In your confusion-addled brain, it felt like enough of a plan. The discomfort was so potent, it was hard to string thoughts together. After a few seconds of bracing yourself, it felt like every muscle in your body strained to stand back up again, resting a hand on the couch for balance as you swayed for a second, blinking against the sudden brightness bombarding your opened eyes. Tom was asking you what you were doing, but you ignored him. You felt drunk, nauseous, staggering and eyes still welling with tears at the sheer agony of straightening up to walk the few steps to the bathroom.

You could ignore Tom, this fresh well of misery making his words seem miles away, but as you finally got close the bathroom door his hands on your hips halted you in place.

He forced you to look at him, eyes struggling to focus on his features, the deep frown on his face deepening as he saw the tear tracking down your cheek.

“What are you doing?” he asked purposefully, overenunciating the words like he was speaking to a stubborn child, hands grounding you as he held you still.

“Bathroom.”

The words seemed like someone else’s, taking an impossible amount of effort, shaky as they fell from your lips. You realised you were fully crying, and some distant, rational part of you felt a stab of mortification.

“Okay,” Tom nodded in understanding, still using that slow, controlled tone.

He didn’t seem to have anything else to comment, guiding you to the bathroom door and opening it, letting you walk inside before holding it open by the handle.

You frowned, struggling to find the words to complain to him, desperate to pee and try to end the pain in your sensitive bladder. Tom’s face was still creased with concern, a fresh tinge of quiet authority in the set of his jaw.

“Please don’t lock the door,” he insisted, and you frowned. “I won’t… I won’t open it. I promise. But please don’t lock it. Just in case.”

You nodded mutely, unhappy, but not quite having the presence of mind to argue. Tom closed the door, and you sighed, accepting his deal as you nervously sat to pee, eyes fixed on the handle. He was probably pacing outside, and you tried not to think about how embarrassing this all was as you let your face fall to your hands, trying to scrub away the tears which had begun to itch on your cheeks.

It burned, and you exhaled shakily. You reached to turn on a tap, and hoped Tom couldn’t hear.

Fuck this. Fuck this.

The fogginess of reality was cut through sharply by pain, and the all-consuming ache which seemed to suddenly rage through your entire pelvis, your worry about the unlocked door only adding to the sheer misery this day seemed to have planned for you.

“All okay?” Tom called through the door, shocking you with the reminder of just how close he was.

With a wince you cleared your throat, trying to hide the weakness of your voice as you prepared to reply before he got any big ideas about bursting through that fucking door.

“All good!”

“Good.”

His reply was awkward, too loud and too curt, and you wondered what he was thinking. If he was lamenting some other plans for his day. You heard his footsteps retreat, and turned off the running tap.

The pain in your abdomen had lessened now, the burn finally subsiding, and after a few moments staring into space your head started to clear. A few more litres of cranberry juice, and hopefully it’d be all better.

You always forgot the kind of despair that acute kind of illness seemed to bring, the pain and the weakness. Blinking away the confusion, you washed your hands and face. Tried to fix your hair a little. Brushed your teeth. All those little things fixed, and you started to feel better.

It took you a few more minutes, and one more check-in from Tom, for you to emerge. The kitchen had been cleaned up, the hot water bottle ready to be refilled, and Tom was sat uncomfortably on the sofa – it was obvious he’d just sat down as he heard you approaching.

He jumped to his feet again, not quite sure what to do with his arms, and you wished you knew what was going on behind those widened blue eyes. You should ask, you knew he’d tell you everything straight away.

Tom was never insincere.

The movement of his lips suggested he was trying to word a question, and failing. You put him out of his misery.

“I’m feeling a lot better.”

“I’m glad. That’s good.”

He didn’t believe you, and you could see it. You folded yourself onto the couch, and he moved to refill the hot water bottle. Handing it to you wordlessly he hovered nearby, until you shuffled to indicate he could sit beside you.

It was awkward. Things were never awkward with Tom. His weight beside yours dragged the two of you together, even gravity willing you to reconcile from this strange shift in the atmosphere. You resisted, shuffling a little so you could sit up without touching him, one arm on the sofa as you faced him.

“Sorry for zoning out on you there, I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

His face broke into a quiet relief, and it broke your heart a little.

“You weren’t! I didn’t think you were being rude. You just scared me. I was worried.”

Smiling tightly, you hugged the hot water bottle closer to your torso, enjoying the comfort as much as the pain relief from the warmth. The storm of concern on his face lifted a little as he watched, hearing your quiet, unspoken thank you.

“What have you got planned for the rest of your day?” you asked softly, diverting the conversation.

Tom knew what you were doing, and you saw him bite down a laugh.

“Just looking after this stubborn woman, and not leaving her house until she feels better.”

The mocking was light, undercut by the open fondness in his eyes, and you found yourself warmed by it.

“She sounds like a pain in the arse,” you teased.

“She’s really not. Only when she pretends to be fine when she’s not.”

“Sorry.”

His face dropped, immediately reaching for your hand, and he scrambled to backtrack. You were a horrified as tears sprung to your eyes again, trying to blink them away.

“You know I wasn’t serious. I just worry, I’m sorry.”

He was still reaching for you, one hand on yours and the other gently brushing away your fresh tears, his face close to yours as you shuddered out breaths and tried to form words.

“No, you say anything wrong, I think I’m just feeling a bit…”

“Down?” Tom offered.

“Fragile.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

You weren’t sure if he opened his arms first, or if you reached for him first. But you were against his chest in a second, head on his shoulder and his arm around you, the hot water bottle displaced as it warmed both of your hips where they were pressed together.

There was comfort in the beating of his heart, in the smell of him and the cologne he’d put on hours ago, in the strength of his arms as they held you to him for the second time that day.

You apologised again against the fabric of his shirt, and he shushed your words.

“You must feel dreadful, love. You’d be well within your rights to tell me to go fuck myself. I think you were very polite, all things considered. Ignoring me was very considerate.”

When he felt you laugh against his chest you could hear Tom’s heart speed up, the rumble of his own chuckle, and you knew the two of you were fine again.

You’d always be fine. The two of you were close like that.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” you teased.

“There won’t be a next time.”

A sombre promise that you’d never get another urinary tract infection was crazy, it didn’t make sense. He was taking far too much accountability, as usual. But you let yourself sink into his confidence, into his comfort. You let yourself believe him.

“You’re so good to me.”

He didn’t say anything, just shuffled you to relax down on the couch, keeping you against him but twisting you. One hand found the hot water bottle and pressed it against your abdomen again, and even when you reached to take it, his hand just stayed there.

It took a few seconds to process that he was spooning you, the solidness of his chest against your back and one hand over your stomach. He was everywhere, against your whole body, warm and smelling amazing, his breath against your neck and his weight pulling you closer to him on the soft cushions.

You wondered if he felt it too. That strange, desperate need to be closer even as you were pressed together. Like you wanted your soul to merge with his, your skin itself to melt together with his.

Maybe you could blame the infection-induced madness for that feeling too.

The pain in your abdomen was barely there anymore, your bladder feeling less raw, the ache no longer acid-sharp. But you knew that was because of him. Because of the warmth and the distraction and his comfort, these stupid endorphins coursing through your veins, and his sweetness in bringing you medicine and sustenance and three fucking cartons of cranberry juice.

“You okay?” he mumbled against your neck.

For a second you couldn’t think of anything except a flash of irrational jealousy. The mere thought he’d held other people like this. That there were nights he might have come home from you and whispered against someone else’s neck, raised goosebumps on their skin, warmed their body.

You had to stop yourself from gasping, wondering where the hell that had come from, a strange brand of anger still burning hot in your chest. You were starting to sweat, from his body heat and the hot water bottle and the infection. Maybe a bit from jealousy.

If Tom noticed, he wasn’t disgusted. He stayed right there. While Tom babied you, you were happy to engage in moping around for a bit.

“They don’t warn you about this bit,” you whispered, “when you sign up to do this shit.”

“This shouldn’t happen,” he consoled, “I thought the studio was better than that. We’ll tighten protocols. I’ll see what we can do to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You knew he couldn’t see your smile, and you hoped he couldn’t sense the tightness in your chest at this ridiculous seriousness. A worry for your health that surpassed your own concern.

Was that what love was? You hadn’t really thought about it before.

“Risk of the job,” you dismissed.

He grumbled into your hair, his breath ghosting over your neck. You wondered if his eyes were closed. As he minutes passed his head relaxed a little, the position melting, your bodies wax under that quiet, smouldering flame which you shared.

You closed your eyes, focusing on Tom’s steady breaths lulling you to sleep.

He was still there when you woke up, a heavy arm over your waist, his hand replacing the fluffy hot water bottle which had fallen to the ground. You could feel the five points of his fingertips on your thin shirt.

You weren’t sure if he was awake, his breathing quiet and even, chest moving against your back even as the two of you had fidgeted in sleep. It was delicious, warm, but your bladder was screaming at you. You realised you probably should have drunk more before napping, that burning sensation returning, and sighed as you started to disentangle yourself from Tom without disturbing him.

He must have been asleep, mumbling in confusion as your form was replaced with cool air against his chest, rolling over and opening his eyes sleepily.

It was early afternoon, the room bathed in light, and he squinted as he murmured your name. His voice was deepened and slurred by his nap, and you tried to soothe him back to sleep as you retreated to the bathroom.

“Go back to sleep, it’s fine.”

He was fully awake, rubbing his eyes, and you sighed. Pausing in the doorframe, you watched as he sat up and looked around to fix you with a stare. He had a fairly extraordinary case of bedhead, red creases from the sofa marking his face, confusion on his face as he woke up.

“Where are you going?”

“I… Tom. Go back to sleep. Don’t worry.”

He blinked, and asked again.

“Where are you going?”

You fixed him with a glare of ‘I don’t want to say it’, but he was too sleepy to understand. He cocked his head in confusion.

“I have to pee again,” you admitted, and Tom clambered to his feet.

For some reason.

He seemed more awake now, stretching to his full height as he strode across the room to you.

“Really? You’re embarrassed about that? How long have we known each other?”

“Why are you following me?”

He paused in the doorway, blinking in confusion at himself, pink creeping up his cheeks.

“Right, sorry.”

You smiled to yourself as you used the bathroom, still wincing from pain but blessedly noting an improvement, staring at your reflection in the mirror as you washed your hands. You weren’t sure when you’d started feeling differently about Tom. You weren’t sure if your relationship had changed, or if it was just in your head.

You were sure that this was new. Something beyond the close friendship you had taken for granted for years. You could get used to the feeling of waking up pressed against him. To being spoilt by him, surprised by his thoughtfulness. You could get used to that desperate sincerity, those blue eyes which saw right through to your soul.

Drying your hands on your sweatpants, you re-entered the living room, seeing Tom’s mop of curls as he sat cross-legged on the sofa, back straight and hands folded in his hands. He seemed sheepish, his position almost child-like as his eyes tracked you across the room, waiting for you to settle somewhere.

There were gears turning in that overactive mind of his, and you perched yourself beside him, waiting for him to speak. Finally he did, the words precise and practiced inside his own mind.

“I’m sorry for just barging in. I don’t know if that was too far, I just wanted to help. I couldn’t go to work alone knowing you weren’t well.”

You couldn’t help smiling. Of course that was what he was worried about.

“Tom, it’s okay. I appreciate your help so much, not many people would do that for me. I’m sorry for being so stubborn.”

He winced, lips pressed into a tight line.

“I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean that.”

“But you were right,” you admitted, “I was being stubborn. I should have just said thank you. So, thank you.”

Tom nodded in acknowledgement, but you knew he hadn’t taken the words in. He kept talking.

“I felt so bad, I knew yesterday was too much. We should’ve taken more breaks. You must be so tired. Or getting sick. Apparently if your immune system is already fighting something off you’re more likely to get ill. And I kept you talking when I should’ve made you to and clean up.”

“You won’t convince me this is your fault, Tom,” you told him lightly, resting on hand on his bent knee.

He stared at your hand for a long second, and you knew he didn’t believe you. You closed your eyes, swallowed, letting your eyes drift across to everything he’d brought. Remembering how he’d dropped everything at the realisation you were sick.

How he wouldn’t take no for an answer until he was with you, helping you. Making sure you were safe. You wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t come over. Would you still be in bed, choking down water and painkillers, debating texting to ask him to bring groceries over?

You couldn’t recall why were so averse to him coming over now. He hadn’t made you feel bad, or weak. He’d been nothing but caring and helpful and, yes, a little overbearing.

But that was part of him. What made Tom, Tom. He put one hand on his thigh, inches from where your thumb rubbed over the inside of his knee, and you took the leap. You laced your fingers which his, staring at how your hands fit together.

“I can’t remember a time anyone was this nice to me. Ever.”

Tom sighed, and you felt a moment of heaviness. A realisation that your life was about to shift. Chapters, ending and beginning. Something new taking root, as Tom met your eyes nervously.

“Then I need to do a better job.”

#tom hiddleston x reader #deep focus #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x ofc #13atoms #fic #this is a weird af chapter of fic but i thought it was a good vehicle for #forced intimacy and fluff

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iloveyou3thousand · 4 years

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Pairing: Starker Rating: Explicit Word count: 2305 A/N: This is for the @starkerfestivals Summer Bingo, and fills the prompt ‘sounding’.

Summary: Tony has something that he thinks Peter might like to try. Peter enjoys it far more than he ever thought he would.

Read it on AO3 here!

TWs: PWP, sounding, barebacking, overstimulation, top tony and bottom peter

—————————————————————————————

Tony noticed, quite a while ago, that whenever he was sucking Peter off, the boy went particularly limp when he passed his tongue over the very tip of the head, or lapped precome from the slit.

That wasn’t anything unusual, since that part was usually pretty sensitive, but the more Tony experimented with the area the more he realized that it wasn’t just general sensitivity, and it wasn’t just the head of Peter’s pretty cock.

So he made Peter an offer to see if his theories were right, and to his satisfaction, Peter agreed to try what he suggested.

The next time their goodnight kiss and cuddle turned into something more akin to heavy petting, Tony pulled back to look at Peter with an inquiring smile. His hand on Peter’s cock squeezed gently, and Peter’s eyes fluttered shut as he groaned softly in the back of his throat.

Tony loved seeing that, and it made him all the more excited to see what he thought he would see once he brought out the toys he’d bought especially for this occasion.

“Wanna try something new tonight?” Tony purred against Peter’s collarbone where he pressed a soft kiss.

Peter hummed, and it was all the verbal agreement he was going to get, for now.

“What is it?” Peter asked.

Tony extracted himself from their embrace and stepped out of bed. He made a beeline for the walk-in and returned with a small, oblong, black box, that visibly piqued Peter’s curiosity. He handed it to the boy, who opened it to reveal the six silver rods inside with silver rings on one end, only a few inches long but all different girths, from something about as thin as a screwdriver to one as thick as a finger.

Peter’s brows knitted together before he even looked up at Tony.

“What is this?” he asked.

Tony tried not to grin too widely as he climbed back onto bed and started helping Peter out of his underwear where he sat up against the headboard.

“Those, my little spiderling, are sounds.”

Clearly Peter had never heard of them before. He didn’t look any more enlightened than he had when he’d first opened the box, brows still furrowed and eyes inquisitive on Tony.

“Fetch me the lube please?” Tony asked, and gave a little kiss to the head of Peter’s cock. It hadn’t yet flagged, and Tony thought that it wasn’t going to – but they had yet to find out.

Peter did as he’d been told and twisted toward the bedside table to grab one of the bottles of lube from the top drawer, and he handed it to Tony. Tony poured some out onto his hand and spread it over Peter’s cock when he’d warmed it on his palm. Still, Peter hissed at the coolness, and Tony gave a consolatory kiss to the inside of his thigh.

Tony instructed Peter to hand him the smallest sound, which he proceeded to slick up with lube as well under Peter’s watchful, curious but cautious eye.

“Do you trust me?” Tony asked Peter.

Peter pulled a face. “With my life. Duh.”

“Good. Then let me show you something I think you’re going to like.”

Peter was quiet and just watched Tony’s hand on his cock, which meant that although he might have still been a little apprehensive, because he always was when Tony wouldn’t exactly tell him what they were about to do except for that he thought Peter would like it, he did want him to continue. After all, so far Tony had been spot on with everything new he wanted to try. Peter had always liked it. And he did trust him, very much.

Tony positioned the dull end of the pin to the little hole in the head of Peter’s cock and circled it gently, and Peter immediately gasped at the sensation.

It was true that that particular spot had always been more sensitive than the rest of his cock. And now Tony was taking advantage of it. Slowly but surely, even if not entirely consciously, Peter began to realize what it was that Tony was going to do with all of those little silver dowels.

And sure enough, soon Tony stopped the circular motion, and gently pushed the pin inside, and Peter watched astonishedly how it disappeared inside his cock.

But the sensation was what really did it for him.

He could barely stop his writhing, his toes flexing and muscles tensing and legs twitching as he felt how the cold travelled down his urethra, slowly inching toward his bladder. It stopped when the ring touched to Peter’s cock, effectively blocking him up, and Peter moaned when Tony linked his finger through the ring and subsequently twisted it.

He threw his head back, pushing hard against the pillow behind him as if that would ease the wonderful pressure that the toy inside of him was creating. It was in vain.

“Fuck,” Peter hissed, hands not quite knowing where to grasp but trying to grab at whatever he could reach. One hand found the bedsheets, while the other found Tony’s arm, the one with which he was now slowly twisting the pin. He wasn’t trying to stop him though. Wouldn’t dare. If anything, he wanted him to continue, and give him… “More. Please.”

Clearly, Tony didn’t have to be told twice. He grinned, and kissed at the head of Peter’s cock once, just next to the ring, and he slowly began pulling the toy out again.

It was arguably an even stranger feeling than when it went in, but still so very good, so very welcome. Peter nearly doubled over with the pleasure of it, cursing again until the toy was fully out, and his cock dropped against his belly when Tony let go, thick and aching.

“Good to see you’re taking it so well,” Tony purred, “That was only the beginning. The first one is always easiest.”

He took the second one, lathered it up same as the first, and wasted no time getting it into Peter. And like he’d said, this one didn’t go as smoothly, needing a little twisting and turning and gentle prodding before it sank in like the first one had. Peter was mesmerized watching it disappear into his cock, his little peehole stretching around it, helpless. Nothing like this had ever been done to it, and Peter wondered if it would ever be the same again. Especially if they made it to the biggest dowel.

It should have frightened or disturbed Peter that he frankly didn’t care what would happen to it at all.

It felt too good. Far too good. And Peter didn’t want that feeling to go away.

When he’d gotten used to the second size, with Tony slowly pumping it in and out of him, movements always cautious and keeping a close eye on Peter in case he was uncomfortable and he needed to pull out – but Peter showed no signs of discomfort. Only pleasure.

The discomfort only really came with the fourth pin. The third was manageable after Tony had taken his time with the second one, but the forth seemed significantly larger in size, and it took Peter’s body some getting used to. He had to adjust. The stretch was magnificent, he had to admit, but he was growing more and more sensitive.

Tony took his sweet time and eventually the toy settled all the way inside Peter, who now lay panting against the pillows, already boneless but still grabbing at the bedsheets, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

He’d never been more hard in his life. He knew that much.

After seeing how much Peter struggled to take the fourth size, Tony suggested they leave it at that, but Peter was greedy now. He’d seen himself take this, so now he wanted more. He wanted to see exactly how far he could go, how far Tony could stretch him. He was starting to realize that if there was one thing he always seemed to like, it was being pushed to his limits. And this was definitely pushing his limits.

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” tony eventually conceded, and took the fourth toy out to the sound of Peter’s wanton moans and got the fifth one ready.

Peter couldn’t believe his body took it. He couldn’t believe that his cock stretched around the dowel like that, time after time, adjusting to the size and allowing the new coolness to travel down. So much lube had been added that he was almost convinced he could feel it in his bladder, and that, too, was something he never thought he’d find as arousing as he did.

Peter screamed when Tony forced in the sixth one. He didn’t allow Tony to stop though. And if the look on the other man’s face was anything to go by, Peter could say with confidence that Tony liked it very much, too. Hell, he’d seen him rut against the mattress or his own thigh a few times. He could imagine that Tony was hard as a rock himself.

It surprised Peter that he hadn’t come yet, because it had built up past the point of orgasm and into something he couldn’t quite explain. Overstimulation was at the heart of it, and yet Peter didn’t want Tony to stop.

“I want to fuck you,” Tony told Peter breathlessly when the toy was finally in and tears were running down Peter’s cheeks, his expression pinched and breath coming quickly.

“Please,” Peter could only breathe out the words, voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t move on his own volition even if he tried, so Tony helped him put a pillow under his hips and angle him in a way that would allow him easy access. He kept one hand around Peter’s cock with a finger through the ring keeping the sound in place, while his other hand pushed down his jeans to reveal that he was, indeed, hard and leaking. He lubed himself up quickly, and nudged the head of his cock against Peter’s hole.

The feeling of being breached unstretched was nothing compared to what was going on with his cock. And Peter was already crying anyway, overwhelmed with painful pleasure. The feelings combined would have thrown him over the edge if it hadn’t been for the toy inside of him, effectively keeping him from doing anything until Tony allowed him to.

And that… Oh, god, that. That was it.

Peter keened when Tony’s cock brushed up against his prostate, sending a fresh wave of desperate tears down his cheeks. The man’s hand started to move up and down his cock, stroking him while the toy was still inside, and occasionally pulling it out an inch to give Peter the illusion of oncoming freedom only to push it back in again.

He did that for a little while, stroking Peter’s cock with one hand and toying with the ring with the other while he rocked into him to chase his own pleasure. When he pulled out completely, Peter nearly yelped, his breath catching in his throat at the sudden feeling of emptiness, and when he looked down he just about caught sight of his hole, stretched out and slick with lube – but that didn’t last very long. Tony grabbed at his cock with one hand and promptly, without any kind of warning, shoved his index finger into his abused urethra.

Peter cried out. Tony’s finger was thicker than the toy, and would only fit until the second knuckle, but it was a different sensation altogether.

And it was… oh. Oh, it was wonderful.

Tony pumped his finger like he was stretching him up, as if Peter was about to take his cock. He knew that it wouldn’t be possible, but god, part of him kind of wanted it to be possible.

Peter was shaking, tears blurring his vision and his body limp with exhaustion, but his muscles still protested on their own volition, twitching and jumping and trying so desperately to force his body to come. But as long as Tony didn’t allow him to, it wouldn’t happen.

Tony fucked into both holes until Peter was absently aware that he was showing signs of nearing orgasm. And when Tony came, he promptly pulled his finger out and stroked Peter’s cock roughly while pushing his pulsating cock up against the boy’s prostate deep inside of him, and there was nothing else for Peter to do except follow him suit – spilling hotly across his own stomach, the spurts slow and thick, dribbling out of his abused peehole until he was absolutely spent.

Tony slowly pulled out, and as the cherry on top, dipped down to take Peter’s wrecked cock into his mouth to suckle at the damage he’d inflicted, and help Peter through the aftershocks.

He cleaned Peter up, and cleaned the toys before storing them away, and when he came back to Peter in the bed and glanced at the boy’s cock, he was satisfied to see that it was already relaxing back into something a little more normal.

Peter looked more satisfied than he’d ever been.

“How was that?” Tony asked when he went to lie down next to him and pull him close, which Peter happily allowed, giving a contented sigh.

“I have no words,” Peter replied sleepily, “Just wanna do it again, and again, and again, and again, and again…” He trailed off, and Tony laughed softly.

“So the finger wasn’t too much?”

Peter moaned for emphasis. “It wasn’t enough.”

Tony thought about that for a moment, and with a grin, he pressed a loving kiss to Peter’s forehead.

“That’s great to hear, baby. Next time will be fun. I have a cute little bullet vibrator that I think you might like.”

#starker #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #starker fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #starkerfestivalsevents #tw overstimulation #nff #tw sounding

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secretsniper3 · 3 years

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Part 3: New Home

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nostradamousse · 4 years

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A short story time about how the NHS might have just saved my vagina. A lot TMI so scroll away if you don't want to read me talking about my urethra.

I'm on mobile so I can't put a read more.

Read at your own discretion.

I tend to get cystitis fairly often. Insanely often. I had mechanical cystitis with all most of my sexual partners so far**, despite respecting all the best practices when it comes to vaginal health and sex. Sometimes I get it from sitting down on cold surfaces. At this point when I get it I just sigh go get my hot water bag out.

Anyhow I got it again 2 days ago. For the second time this year. I didn't want to get antibiotics so I started with my trusty anti-inflammatory meds and all the water of the universe as soon as I got the first signs of what was coming. Nothing was helping and I spent two days curled up in my bed in pain incapable of doing anything. This morning I was again extremely tempted to just go ahead and get myself every antibiotic on earth. Trying to still be a reasonable person I Google what to do again, for the forth/fifth time in the past 48 hours. This time in English for whatever reason. (I've been doing my research in Italian because I wanted to be sure that if anyone were to recommend any product I would be able to get it since I'm in Italy)

I get the NHS as the first result. They said to get some ibuprofen (which I couldn't take*) or paracetamol. I've been using a urinal health specific anti-inflammatory so far so I legit laughed at their advice.

Not like i have anything else to do so I go ahead and try out the paracetamol.

It's been about 6 hours and I finally had my first normal pee in 3 days. I'm still in some pain, I still need to pee a lot but I'm better bitch!! I survived bitch!

I love them so much I want to cry.

#*my period just ended and i used ibuprofen for the pain for it and while technically it wouldn't be wrong of me to take it #because there would have been a 4 day pause between me living off of the max dose of painkillers still...#don't want to go there #**not in the 'every time i have sex way' but in the 'if we have sex more than once it's going to happen sooner or later'#not that safe for work

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alo-piss-trancy · 5 years

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Yusuke Alt Ending (P/5 omo Snippet #5)

(( This was going to be an alternate ending chapter for Piss is Prohibited on AO3 I wanted to post as a surprise, but I could never decide on the ending 😿 AU where Akira was too bladdershy to go in the alley. ))

"I-I, uh, don't guess we could bolt in and ask him really nicely?" Ann squeaked out, crossing her legs tightly.

Ryuji scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Are you kiddin'!?! He wants to sue us, we can't get within two feet of that door! Yusuke's still effin' pissed too-"

"Don't say that word, geez!" Ann moaned. "What's the closest place then?"

He was wracking his brain, but this place was kind of an out-of-the-way dump. That was Madarame's whole 'humble' thing, after all. They usually had to take a train or walk here, and it was a decent journey.

"I hate to say it, but, um, the station's kind of far..." he murmured, tightening the grip on his uniform pants. He was already about to burst, and the mere idea of a walk like that had his bladder throbbing more urgently. No, he really couldn't hold it for that long!

"Screw it, I'm findin' an alley or somethin', I can't walk that far!" Ryuji huffed, already storming down the road to scope out the area.

"Ryuji, there are still a few people that come around here! Like fans from the art show, o-or that reporter we saw a while back-"

"Do ya' wanna piss yourself?!?"

"No, b-but..." Ann whined, leaning her head back to stare at the sky. "I've been on magazines before… if a reporter saw me… I'm gonna try and think of something else. If you wanna go with him though, Akira, I'll be the lookout." she offered.

He pressed his thighs together more tightly, feeling the perspiration beginning to bead on his forehead. "I..." Oh, if only he could take the easy route and just go with Ryuji. "I can't."

"Huh? What do you mean 'you can't'?" She must have seen the look on his face though, because she shook her head. "Forget it, it doesn't matter. What's important is that we go before we totally burst..." she groaned, biting her lip. "Screw it, Madarame shouldn't be home yet with that art show going on. I'm asking Yusuke! Come on! Mona, make sure Ryuji doesn't get in trouble. We'll be back soon."

With that, Ann had grabbed his shoulder, tugging him along as she marched (well, more like staggered) over to the doorway. She pounded on the door immediately, hopping around and bringing her hands down to rub her thighs while she waited for a response. Within a few moments, the door had cracked open to reveal a familiar face. A face that clearly wasn't pleased with their arrival.

"You again. Leave the premises now, or I shall be forced to call my mentor. Goodbye."

Ann shoved her foot into the opening before he could slam the door, leaning to grab the doorframe. "Wait wait wait! We aren't here because of any of that!" she gasped. "The station is really far away, and we were in the neighborhood, a-and, uh… Prettypleaseletususeyourbathroom?"

"What sort of ploy is this?"

"Kitagawa-kun, we need in ASAP! It's really really bad… Y-You, um, you wouldn't let a girl walk all the way to the train in wet pants, w-would you?" She tried batting her eyelashes, but it didn't quite have the desired effect when her face was stuck in a grimace. "I know what went down before was bad, but I know deep down you're a kind, forgiving soul, right?"

"Do you honestly expect me to believe this after all of your previous deceit? Isn't asking to use someone's restroom the oldest trick in the book?"

"Ann!" He hated that the word was such a high-pitched squeak, so different from his usual deeper murmur, but he really felt like he was going to lose it any second now, and it strained any sound he attempted to make. No amount of leg-crossing or crotch-squeezing was easing the burning sting as it ran to the edge of his urethra, and he'd already leaked twice in the time she'd been talking, a softball-sized wet patch rubbing against his hands. His face was absolutely on fire now, and if he didn't already know such an action would be pointless, he would have turned around and ran to try and use the alley anyways.

"Please, Kitagawa-kun, it's an emergency!!! I swear we'll leave right after, and we won't snoop or anything!"

Kitagawa stared at them for a moment more, the slight clench of his jaw the only indicator of emotion, but he finally sighed. "Very well, you may both enter to use the facilities. You are not to explore anywhere else, is that clear?"

"Crystal!" Ann gasped out, already squeezing through the doorway as the man stepped back to let them through.

"I'm afraid there is only one restroom, located once you take a left at the end of this hall. The other one of you will have to wait in here until the first returns. I will be keeping an eye on you to ensure no one wanders."

Shit. Only one?

He could see Ann's grateful smile drop, her eyes clouding with hesitation as she squirmed in place, tightening the grip on the jacket she was tugging over her crotch. "Oh, uh… Akira, d-do you wanna-"

"Go on."

"Are you sure? I-I know you really-"

"It's fine. You're in worse shape, and this was your idea. Go." Just hurry.

"Thanks! I promise I'll be super quick! With that, she hobbled down the hall in the direction Kitagawa indicated, the sound of a door slamming indicating she'd reached her destination.

Trying not to cringe too obviously at the sound, he backed up to lean against the wall, crossing his legs more firmly (not that it helped much). He was already deeply regretting letting her dart in first, but he also wouldn't have forgiven himself if something… happened to her. Especially since he'd been the one who'd let Mona drag things on for so long in the first place. If he'd just manned up earlier, none of them would have even been in this mess.

He could wait for the whopping few minutes it would take her to come out.

His body seemed to be trying its best to contradict that thought only seconds later though, another urgent wave of pressure forcing him to squeeze himself tighter and hunch over, a pathetic whine slipping out from his throat. Oh God, I have to piss so bad, holy shit...

It was then that he became acutely aware of their host's gaze on him, glancing over to see blue eyes running up and down his body with… was it bemusement? Or just irritation? Whatever it was, it was intense, practically boring into him and making him far too self-aware of how ridiculously he was acting. Feeling his breath catch in his throat, he glanced away, nudging his head as he did so to allow his bangs to shield his eyes. "I… er, I-I'm sorry about this..."

He felt no guilt at all about what they were doing in the Metaverse, but… he could sense the all too familiar sting of being an unwanted presence here, in this moment. This wasn't the worst thing they'd done in this shack, but it was still an inconvenience, and towards someone who was already under a lot of stress and unease. The lack of response to his apology didn't ease his nerves.

He could feel a bead of moisture building, threatening to slip out, and he swapped his legs so that they were crossed the other way. That barely helped the shudders and tingling stings, and soon he was hopping from one foot to the other in between leg-crosses, resorting to a full-out desperate dance. Hurry up! Please please please! I'm gonna explode!

"If you're going to wet yourself, I would highly prefer if you moved onto that tarp in the middle of the room."

As if this wasn't mortifying enough already, he had to go and say something like that?!? Kitagawa seemed to be entirely serious though, fixing him with a narrowed gaze as he stood there with his arms folded.

"I-I'm not going to..." He let the mumbled argument die on his tongue, simply ducking his head and hobbling over to stand on the paint-splattered plastic. It was even worse now without any surface to lean his weight against, and he bit his lip, strongly considering sitting down. If he took that course of action though, even if it helped lessen the urge in the present moment, he doubted he'd be able to get back up to bolt to the door when it opened. Better to stay standing, ready to run...

"You're a good deal quieter than the others, aren't you? Come to think of it, I don't believe you said a single word to me the last time you came here. It was those two that did all of the talking when things became heated… and yet, you seemed to stand by them. Do you truly share their opinion?"

"I..." That was a touchy subject, wasn't it? It was probably best not to anger him...

"Relax. Your answer will not affect your restroom privileges. I simply wish to know how you feel about the situation."

What he felt? Right now, the only feeling he could focus on was the agonized shrieking in his bladder.

He still knew the answer though, even if it came out as more of an anxious groan. "I do. Wholeheartedly."

"I see..."

(( I could never decide if I wanted to stall and let Akira make it or have him lose it right before Ann got out. I also couldn't think of much dialogue between him and Yusuke to fill the time until then, so this is pretty much it RIP))

#omocute #fandomo #fictomo #omorashi #persomo #bearfic

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