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#groin tear
s0larseraph · 11 months
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im so confused why was links final outfit that
like i dont understand. i dont get the reasoning. why not the obvious choice of his starting fit in the opening, or the archaic tunic to match with zelda, or the charged set since it would match rauru (something something rauru and sonia i dont Know.) like its not a matter of "oh well. you might never complete the sidequest for the champions leathers/hylian hood so it wouldn't make sense" those dumbass trousers are not required !! if that were the case then the charged armor set might make the most sense since its tied to one of the mainline quests. and even the archaic tunic set might work bc even though you don't have to find it, chances are you probably will. hell, it appears to be the most popular, even though thats not something nintendo couldve predicted. anyway. all this to say im confused. boy aint you chilly. put your peepnis away son.
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chapst1ckmcdyke · 2 years
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Being a (broke) fat bitch during swimsuit season is HARD
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tojisun · 3 months
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!! female reader; dirty talking; breeding kink; slight overstim play; unrealistic sex x’>
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thinking about how simon’s the type to keep saying filth to you when he’s balls deep. how, in the throes of his pleasure, so pussy-drunk, simon begins to wax poetry about the way you make him feel.
he’s got you folded in a mating press, his lips ghosting wet kisses along your trembling legs. “god, baby,” simon murmurs, his voice a drunken slur. “i need t’wife you up, i swear.” he punctuates this with a thrust, before his fingers pinch your clit.
you choke at the feeling, your legs kicking from where they’re slung over simon’s shoulders. your head thrashes against the pillow, not knowing how else to tether yourself from the stinging pleasure, your mouth falling open uselessly as garbled moans spill out.
“oh this,” he says, distracted by your reaction. “cute little thing, isn’t it?” he looks at your pussy almost with a starry-eyed gaze.
jesus-
“shu-ut up, si!” your voice breaks, weakened from the moans, but simon’s already looking too far gone, his eyes blown wide and his face flushed because of his pleasure.
“y’just squeezed me tighter, baby.” simon rips his eyes from your cunt to look at you with a sort of giddy trance. “y’like it when i play with–” he circles his thumb on your clit, making you squeal. “this? yeah? oh, lovie, you’re gushing.”
he pulls out, torturously slow, teasing, then he’s slamming back in. your ears ring at the resounding wet slide, his pelvis meeting your own with a goddamn squelch, and you scream, clawing at his back at the sharp pleasure that razes through you.
“going t’stuff you w’my cum everyday, baby.” simon giggles. “going t’make you so full.”
he nuzzles his nose on the side of your tear-soaked cheek. “y’want that, yeah? want t’feel sore because of how much cum’s stored in you? want t’be fucked until it takes?”
what-
“si! si!” you cry, mushy mind trying to understand what he’s insinuating. “wha- wh-…?”
“oh but you’d be so gorgeous, baby,” simon groans, his hand leaving your oversensitive clit to hike up along your body, dancing past your groin to plant just below your belly button. simon nuzzles close again, tracing the shell of your ear with his lips, then, “you’d be so pretty carrying my kids.”
those words make your body lock up, something in your mind just shifting right, and then you’re cumming, squirting all over simon’s cock and spraying on his legs.
simon outright moans, pulling back just enough to slot his lips against yours. you couldn’t even kiss him back, still so busy cumming, all cross-eyed at the intensity of your orgasm. it doesn’t matter to him, anyway, not when simon begins pistoning harder. faster. rougher.
every drag of his cock back in your pussy pushes more gushing squirt from you, and simon rumbles with a pleased groan, looking so blissed out as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. you dig your nails at his back but simon doesn’t even register the prickling pain, too busy chasing his own orgasm through your cunt.
“s’right,” he coos. “nothin’ else could make me cum, baby. nothin’ else but y’r pretty pussy. y’r tight pussy. god, it’s such a delicious pussy, baby, how am i so lucky to have you, huh?” his words mingle with the thwap-thwap-thwap sounds of his body slamming against your own. it makes you dizzy with pleasure, ragged rasps of breath is all that is passing through your parted lips.
simon croons. “how’d i chance luck and end up w’such a delight?” another wet sound from your pussy rings amidst his words. “mmm, hear that baby?”
you nod, you think. or you moan a reply. honestly, you don’t even know, not with how dizzy you are at the peaking pleasure because there’s no way you’re cumming again–
“that’s the sounds that a happy wife makes,” simon purrs, replying to his own question, and the weight of his words washes over you like the pleasure that’s racing across your synapses. “that’s the sound that someone makes when they want to be bred.”
“simo-nnnnn!” you scream, the sound guttural and ragged, and your eyes can no longer see anything, and your ears are ringing, and- and–
simon laughs, the sound curling into something so, so fond. “y’r so pretty when y’cum, baby.” he kisses your wet cheek. “one more? f’r me?”
fuck-
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
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When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.
And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—
"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.
When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"
Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."
The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."
Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.
--
Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.
But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)
His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.
"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."
It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.
And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.
The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.
He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—
And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."
He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.
The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.
He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.
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Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.
Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.
Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.
Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.
"Mornin' LT."
A grunt is his only reply.
Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.
"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."
He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."
Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.
"When?"
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coryosbaby · 8 months
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Down & Dirty
Fandom: “Outer Banks”
Pairing: mean! Rafe Cameron x fem! Pogue! Bimbo! Reader
Cw: dark themes— dubcon, angst, manipulation, nsfw . Gunplay, dumbification, mud scene, codependency, subspace, anal, breeding, daddy kink, extreme domination, size kink, predator/prey dynamics
A/N: bro I was fuckin FERAL writing this .
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Fear courses through you as Rafe Cameron’s hand covers your mouth and he drags you away towards his truck. You knew it was a bad idea to come here by yourself, but you went against your better judgement.
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” He calmly but scarily murmurs as you struggle. His bottom lip peeks out and his eyes are almost vacant.
You’ve always known that Rafe is somewhat of a bad person, given the torment he had always given you being Sarah’s best friend— but now, with his grip tight and mean, gun barrel pointing at your skull, you know now that something has shifted inside him — something dark and unforgiving. The hands that had once been soft on your skin, the eyes and body that had comforted you once or twice, regardless of Rafe’s violent tendencies with your pogue friends, we’re now aiming to end your life .
“Rafe, please…” You plead with him, as he yanks you by your hair.
“Rafe, please,” he mocks. “Jesus, you’re fucking pathetic. You’re lucky that I haven’t put a bullet in that pretty fucking skull yet.”
Tears well in your eyes and you kick him in his groin. It makes him groan, and he drops his grip from you. You run away from him, at a certain point having to stop and take your favorite pair of heels off. You were incredibly stupid to wear them here.
Rafe catches up to you quick. He tackles you, and with a loud sloshing sound you both land in the mud on the ground. He wrestles you down until his hands are around your neck. You gasp, trying to run away again, trying to get away from this guy you had once recognized as a form of comfort for you, but to no avail.
“You fucking bitch.” The gun has been lost somewhere beside the both of you, but that doesn’t make the boy any less threatening. “I never wanted to hurt you! You did this to your self- stop fucking squirming!”
You sob as his hands loosen a bit on you. He looks down at your supple chest, your bra now peeking out of your tank top from all of the movement.
“Even now you’re dressed like a fucking slut,” he growls. Your brows furrow. You’ve been avoiding eye contact with him, but now you meet his once again. He looks like a predator about to catch its prey.
He looks angelic, almost… a fallen angel. You breathe out, and with enough strength to pull forward, you kiss him.
You don’t know why you do it— sex is the thing that most men want from you, so maybe that’s why. As a way to plead for your life.
His tongue finds its way into your mouth for a moment, his teeth clacking against yours, but as if pulled out of a trance he rips himself away from you. Mud cakes his face and arms as he gets up to his feet.
You let out a tiny whine as he looks down at you, from frustration or fear you don’t know. Probably both. You flimsily move up on your knees, doe eyes looking up at him with a begging expression.
Rafe’s eyes dart to the other side of you, and he catches sight of the loaded gun laying in a heap on the ground. He grabs it and shoves the barrel against your skull. With one hand he wraps it around your neck and pulls you closer to him.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” He says with a disgusted tone.
You don’t say anything, just let out a little whimper. He catches sight of your tank top again— and a small smirk glazes his features.
He grabs the strings of it and rips the flimsy thing right down the middle. When it settles in what’s about to happen, a wet spot forms in your panties.
You might die right now, covered in mud and grass, but you’re fucking horny.
“I should kill you right now,” he whispers heavily against your ear. “But that’s not what you want, is it? You want me to fuck you, right here on the dirty fucking ground. Don’t you?”
You nod your head, desperate. For what, you don’t know.
He smiles, demented. And he moves the gun down to your mouth. “Just a dirty little pogue that wants to get filled with dick, right?”
“Yes… yes, sir.” You mumble. Your tongue lolls out to lick at the gun barrel. “I wan’ it..”
And that’s all the confirmation Rafe needs. He places the gun in the back of his waistband and begins to undo his belt.
“Of course you do,” he rambles. “That’s all you’ve ever fuckin’ wanted was to get dicked down by me. I always saw the way you looked at me, y’know.”
You move closer to him when he pulls his lengthy cock out of his pants. It’s heavy, thick and long, circumcised, with precum coating the tip. A vein runs down one side of it, almost throbbing.
You reach out and lick the tip of him. He tastes absolutely divine.
“‘S so pretty..” you whisper. You drag your face along it, just to feel the warm skin and lick it all up.
Rafe, bored, grabs your face and positions his cock in front of your mouth.
“Open that fucking mouth as wide as it can go.”
You obey, mouth opening to take him; he shoves his cock in as deep as it can go. He reached behind him to his waistband and the gun is back in one of his hands again. He shoves it against your head for a third time. He groans when you gag around his fat prick, and your body naturally moves forward in between his legs. Rafe takes notice and is quick to wrap his thighs around each side of your head, making sure to squeeze. It’s too much pressure on your head, and you try to move away. But Rafe slaps both sides of your blushing face and thrusts so hard that you gag.
“Don’t fucking move. You move, I’ll fuckin’ shoot you. Do you understand me?”
You can’t nod, but you cry out around him. He holds the top of your hair with his fingers and keeps you down until you can’t breathe.
But seriously, you can’t breathe— your vision goes blurry and you’re almost close to passing out. You’re too dazed to care, But thankfully Rafe doesn’t want to kill you just yet. He forces your head away. You gasp, choking and sputtering, trying to get more oxygen back into your now sore throat. He’s back on you in an instant, though, and he’s leaking so much precum and you’re drooling so much that it’s dripping out of the sides of your mouth. His balls slap against your chin; your nose presses into his pubic hair, and he smells so delicious that you almost start rutting into the filthy ground.
He pulls you off of him when he’s about to cum. You get thrown to the ground, your head hitting the soft mud and caking your face. Rafe discards the gun again, gets down on his knees behind you, and rips your skirt and underwear down your legs vigorously. Your puffy cunt is revealed to him. He tsks, running a finger through your folds.
“So wet. And shit—“ he pulls your cheeks apart, exposing your juicy pussy and tight asshole to the warm air. You clench around nothing as he spits down in between your ass cheeks. “All your little holes are so tiny. Fuck, this is gonna hurt you, sweetheart.”
“Please..” you whimper, pushing your body back against him on your hands and knees. “Need daddy’s big cock. Need it ‘s bad.”
The fact that you’re talking in third person like this should be a bit concerning. Your mind is so far gone. But Rafe doesn’t care about that— all he cares about is ripping your sloppy cunt open.
“I know you do.” He states. His tongue goes down to your asshole. He runs it along that place there, and down to the place in between your ass and pussy. His thumb moves around and lightly massages your clit. It’s the first kind of stimulation he’s given you and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” He mutters. “Maybank ever do this to you?”
He’s referring to JJ; he has, although you don’t want to admit that to him. Rafe isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked, the first guy to finger your pussy. But he’s by far the best.
“S-Sometimes..”
It comes out low, and his fingers stop.
“Yeah? You slut yourself out to all those dirty pogues?”
When you don’t answer, his hand comes down on the fat of your ass. You sob.
“No! N-No, just JJ, I swear!”
He reaches around and slaps your pussy. It hurts, and Rafe thinks that you let out a sound like a pained little bunny. The nickname makes so much sense to him, and he’s angry as he lines himself up to your puffy entrance.
“You’re never gonna see him again.” He states. His tip sinks into you. The stretch stings, fucking hurts so bad. You’ve sucked cock but you’ve never had one inside your cunt. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. You dumb fucking bunny.”
And he pushes himself in, in, in, and you’ve never felt so full, so dirty, so claimed. He pushes past that thin little wall inside you, pops your cherry with his cock’s mushroomed head. When it breaks through blood coats his length; he knows because he begins to move quick after that, sees the red coated on his dick. You’re so tight and sweet and fuck— Rafe doesn’t think he can kill you anymore. He needs to be inside you forever.
“Mine.” He growls. “All mine.”
You’re laying there, having no choice but to take it. The pain feels good. Rafe grabs your wrists and pins them behind your back as he begins to pound you right there in the dirt.
Little ah ah ahs leave you as his balls slap against your clit. He shoves one of his fingers into your mouth. You can taste the grittiness of dirt and under that, his natural taste— mixed with the taste of hand soap, almost. Probably the one that sits back in the Cameron household’s second bathroom, on the counter. Or maybe it’s the body wash that he so often washes himself with; you know this because you use it sometimes. You like the way the boy smells.
“Little pussy’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” He groans. “Best pussy daddy’s ever had baby, fuck.”
He’s almost a whimpering mess himself. He’s not gonna last long because of your cunt— and he intends to make the most of it.
He grabs you by your throat, has bent backwards against him as he presses a messy kiss to your mouth. It’s hungry, it’s crazy, the whole situation is. But you’re both at each other like fucking animals.
“Whose pussy is this?” He demands. You lick at his bottom lip, clench around him just right.
“Yours! ‘S all yours, daddy!”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He huffs, then he thumbs your asshole and watches as you suck him in. “Gonna fuck this tight little ass after this. Gonna take you home and take you right there on my fuckin’ staircase.”
You mewl, and you can tell that he’s close. You reach around to try and rub your own clit, but Rafe slaps your hand away. He turns you over on your back. You can see him a lot better this way, and he looks like a fucking God, pounding you so good like this. He pushes your legs over your head and slides back inside your gummy walls. He buries his face in your neck and his fingers move down to your clit. When he rubs you, it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming on him with a scream. Your cunt tightening around him makes him let out a growl, and you beg him for his load.
“Please, Rafey,” you whine out. “Please cum inside me. I need your cum in my tight little pussy.. wanna be a mommy, wanna have your baby, please please please—“
He lets out an animalistic shout, and his cock squirts warm, white cream right against your cervix. He pounds you even more at the force of his orgasm. When he comes down, he slows and breathes in your scent. The sweet strawberry perfume you wear is right against his nostrils. He pulls out of you, slow. He spreads your pussy lips apart and watches his seed drip out of your gaping pussy.
“Good girl..” he coos, oddly sweet. “Daddy’s good little cocksleeve..”
Your mind is hazy, and even here in the woods you grab his hands and grab him to pull him closer to you. He pushes you away, however, and grumbles, “Don’t. Cmon, get up.”
You comply, on shaky legs. He picks up your tank top, slips it over your head. Your skirt is practically in shreds, so he just puts your panties back on. You’re too fucked out to even care that he’s dragging you to his truck, half naked, cum dripping down your legs. You don’t care.
The ride to the Cameron residence is quiet. Rafe threw the gun in the console when he got in. You fall asleep halfway there, and he turns the radio on softly.
He looks over at you. Caked in dirt, cheeks red, scratches all over your thighs. You must’ve got them from the twigs in the mud.
Something tugs at his chest. He blames it on the adrenaline.
The house is empty; Wheezie, Rafe had sent off to a friend’s. Sarah, running around with the pogues, probably trying to find you. Rose, god knows where. His dad, dead. He does what he said he would do. He sits himself down on the staircase, pulls out his cock, already hard from the way your thighs are wet. He positions you on top of him as you look down at him tiredly. You want to be good for him, though, and let him stretch your ass out on his fingers. Afterwards you move your panties to the side, grab his cock and slide it inside your heat. You bounce on him, mouth agape as you look into his eyes. There seems to be more emotion in them now. He’s calmed.
He digs his fingernails into your hips, and he grunts when your lips find his neck and you suck a bruise onto it. He spills inside you for a second time, and then he makes you go upstairs with him. He pulls you into his bathroom, the one connected to his room, that you’ve never been in. He takes off the both of your clothes and starts a warm shower. He pulls you inside of it, takes a rag and begins scrubbing the both of you down. You lean against him as he does so, leaving kisses against his now bare chest. His fingers come down to your pussy and make you cum again, an oddly selfless act preformed by the boy. A reward because you were good, maybe? He turns the water off when you’re both squeaky clean. You don’t let him out of your grasp until he gets out of the shower and you follow him. He grabs a towel and dries your used body off with it, and then grabs another and does the same for himself. He guides you to his bed, and you crawl into it.
Your mind is still a mess. You feel alight, like you’ve been touched by god himself. But Rafe’s distance from you when he sits beside you makes you frown. It saddens you so much even, that tears well in your eyes again. Rafe can see the tears coming down your face.
“Jesus, are you fucking crying right now?”
Silence, and then a small sniffle. He scoffs.
“Need me to fuckin’ coddle you, or somethin’?”
You don’t say anything, but you do want that— you don’t know why. He had just taken you in the literal fucking mud, like a disgusting fucking animal. But his warm embrace sounds like something that can ease the headache forming in your skull.
Rafe must sense this. Because he groans, and lays himself down in the spot beside you.
“Come here.” He demands, harshly. You turn over, surprised at his words, but comply regardless. You bring your arms up around his neck and nestle in the space between his arm and torso; it’s comfortable there, it’s warm and soft. You like it. Maybe you’re losing your fucking mind.
You feel the need to thank him for his generosity— you still haven’t gotten out of that space he had forcefully thrown you into— and you need him to be proud of you, almost.
“Rafe—” you say, voice a bit hoarse.
“Did I say you could talk?”
“No..” you murmur. “‘m sorry.”
“Better be.”
He pulls the comforter over the both of you. He remembers the gold, the entire reason why this had occurred in the first place. But it can wait. Exhaustion overtakes him. After a moment a small sigh emits from him and his thumbs rub soft circles against your shoulder.
And soft, almost like an angels wings, he kisses your head with plush lips.
© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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Gojo Satoru
TW: NSFW, dubcon, yandere, bully/mean Gojo
gn reader - fem clothing
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“Summer did you good, didn’t it?”
Your ears grate at the familiar voice. So smug you can feel the smirk before turning around to see it in all its pearly glory. 
“Leave me alone, Gojo.” You sigh, taking your drink before trying to slide passed him.
But he stands close – too close, still in the intimate club – so close his thigh brushes yours where you sit on the bar stool. “I’ll leave you alone… if you make it worth my while~”
Your nose scrunches. “Gross. I’d sooner fuck a curse.”
His smile doesn’t drop despite your insult. “I’ve got six eyes, you know…  You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”
Your eyes narrow, biting out a “What?” and his smile becomes a chuckle. 
“Short skirts and tight tops. Sitting here all alone.” His black shades dip when he looks down his nose at you, a knowing look in his loud blues. “You’re fishing- and lucky you got me hooked.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you smack your teeth. “And now I'm throwing you back out to sea.”
You try again to hop off your seat, but he leans a hand against the bar and traps you there.
“Who’re you dressin’ up for then, hm?” He continues, getting in closer, bearing down until his lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering, “You know~  all guys are pigs. I guess you’re happy being slop in a trough.”
You put a hand on his chest, but it doesn’t budge him – and when he leans back again on his own, he flashes an even wider grin at you.
“I mean, hell- If I knew you were such a needy slut, I’d mercy-fuck you sooner- shoulda just said so-”
“Shut up.” You snap.
He tilts his head, feeling undeterred – actually, the opposite, offering another snicker. “Oh? Grown some balls under that skirt, too, hm?”
You make another grimace at his crudeness, deliberating throwing your drink in his face.
“What? A couple of compliments and free drinks, and suddenly, you think you’re too good for me?”
You’re reminded of the gap in your rank – why you should hold your tongue.
You sigh – defeatedly now. “Just leave me alone, Gojo-”
But he’s not done having his fun. 
“You’re nothing.” He flicks his tongue off his smile. “You’re a curseless loser- and you don’t have to have six eyes to see it.”
Hints of hurt flicker through the anger on your face, and your scowl wavers – turning into a pout while you look up at him, trying to hold it together. His grin spreads when he sees it, and his words grow colder, cutting deeper.
“Don’t kid yourself- only reason anyone’s lookin’ at yah twice s’cause it’s real hilarious watching your pathetic ass think you’re anything but a-”
“I get it.” You cut him off, voice weak. “You’ve made your point…”
You slide off your stool, squeezing past him with your head bowed to hide the tears welling in the corner of your eyes – threatening to slip if you waited a second longer.
But before you’re able to disappear into the crowd, you’re stopped once again by a hand wrapped around your upper arm.
“Before you go, just know… if you ever decide to dress up like a little slut again- I’ll take it as an invitation.”
The tears slip while you look up at him. 
He takes a second to admire it before letting go. Watching you rush out.
You stand outside in the cold and catch your breath. Wiping your cheeks with hitched cries before a jacket is slumped over your shoulders.
“I don’t think I wanna roleplay this anymore, Toru- It’s too much-” You sniffle, curling yourself against his chest with tiny fists balled in his shirt.
“I know-” He coos, wrapping his arms around you while resting his chin off the top of your head, swaddling you. “But it makes me so fucking hard. Feel-” He groans, rubbing his fattened groin into your stomach.
“I’m not in the mood anymore-” You whine in return, trying to nudge him and his boner off.
But he keeps you in his arms, hugging you tight, a whine escaping his own lips. “No- please don’t. Don’t leave me all blue-balled, angel. Please~”
“You’re so selfish.” You pout, allowing it.
“Yeah~ I’m the worst~” He agrees with a snicker, releasing you – holding your hand as he begins leading you to the car, a hurried spring in his step. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You’re not even listening.” You argue, getting dragged along.
He places you against the door. “Please, I need you. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.” He moans hotly while kissing up your neck – fiddling for the keys in his pocket before unlocking and popping open the back seat. 
You don’t fight him, getting overwhelmed when he lays you down – his kisses never-ending and hunting for all those soft spots he knows make you weak. 
“Can’t believe people dare look at you-” He breathes, almost in a growl, lifting your thighs up around his torso while nestling between them. Rocking his bump against the thin lace of your panties. Voice growing more and more rowdy. “I oughta go back in and level ‘em all.”
He sucks a hickey into your neck, then a small ring of teeth on your collar. You whine at the bruising but don’t do anything to make him stop. Instead, your small hands reach out to his belt – unbuckling it and unbuttoning him, tugging his pants down until they bunch around where he’s knelt.
He makes the last liberties and finds his place between your thighs with a sigh.
“Buncha small-fries… everybody knows you’re mine.”
You sit in his lap when you’re done. Naked with your dress bunched around your midriff. Nips stiff and perky – too cute to ignore, so every now and again, he bows his head to give them a kiss or two. It never fails to make you squeal.
“You think you can fit into your old school uniform?” He mouths against you, licking kisses from your chest up to your neck – sucking your cheek before placing a chaste peck on the corner of your mouth. “I wanna poor milk on yah like I used to~
He’s always so clingy after cumming. You try and wrench away from the neediness, but it’s obvious you don’t give it much effort – mostly just scrunching your face. “You’re such a jerk.”
He hums in agreeance, and you feel his smirk through his kisses and then in his laugh. “Don’t cry, it’s not the type of milk you’re thinking of.”
You blush at the comment, ushering out a curt “Pervert.”
But he only pushes, moaning out a “Please~” while kneading your hip and rubbing your thigh – pressing his face into your neck, nuzzling you with eyes closed and mouth open.
So clingy, you feel embarrassed and ticklish under all the attention. Shaking your head. “It won't fit- it’s years ago-”
He pouts with a grumble. But it doesn’t take long before the smirk returns, inching back onto his lips. “I bet you’d fit in mine, though~”
You grow even more shy at the suggestion. “You’re so weird.”
He only laughs. “And you’re so in love with me~ which means you’re even weirder. Hah, loser?”
You frown at the nickname, again making an effort to twist away from the myriad of kisses and lovebites. “You’re insane.”
But he catches your face in his hand. Squishing your cheeks and turning your head to look back at him. “Damn right, I am.” He agrees, then turns it into a playful threat. “So you’d better never leave me. ‘You think I was a bully in school? Just imagine what a nightmare I’d be now. I’m a god; I’d get away with anything.”
You giggle at his silly dramatics. 
“You laugh, but I’m not joking.” He continues, still with your face in his hands. His big round eyes peeled. “I wouldn’t just stalk and terrorize you. I’d destroy your life if you ever left me. I’d make you lose your job, your apartment, your friends, your clan- I’d make sure you had no one left to turn to, nowhere left to run but right back to me.”
Your giggles die down, leaving a small smile playing on your lips before you press them softly against his. 
“And here I was thinking you’d just settle for sending creepy letters…”
He chuckles under his breath, “Childsplay.” Then kisses you again – this time a little longer. Giving your cheeks a squeeze before releasing you softly. Resting his forehead against yours with your noses touching.
His voice is a little more solemn now, genuinely serious this time. 
“But you would never leave me, right?”
The wet traces of his kisses cool in the absence of his lips while his thumbs feather your flesh so delicately. Holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the entire world.
You tilt your head and kiss him again – chastely and sweet.
“Never.”
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volensnolenss · 9 days
Text
𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄
summary: working as a doctor is so exhausting, especially at jujutsu tech, however, when your man is around, everything becomes different;
content: nsfw!mdni, mention of blood, riding, nipple play, dirty talk, praising, clothed sex, blow job, creampie, cum eating;
characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento;
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GOJO:
“don't lie, i know perfectly you can heal yourself with reversed cursed technique” you roll your eyes and examine the wound on his chest; a maroon stain protruded under his t-shirt, “sugar, you're not going to leave me to die?” gojo is watching the movement of your hands, which lift his clothes. you just click at him in response, and he grins at your outraged face.
you don't have time to put your palm to his wound, as suddenly it disappears, and satoru grabs your hand, pulling you to him, “missed you so much” he murmurs, burrowing into your hair, “oh, really?”you flirt by putting both palms to gojo's face, and his eyes immediately light up with fire.
“yeah, baby, keep it going" he whistles animatedly at you while you ride on his cock, capturing its entire length, “so good” you whisper, moving your hips and arching your back, creating the perfect angle for your pussy, “then go ahead, pretty” the corner of gojo's mouth stretches out and his hand squeezes your chest, making your nipple tense.
“ngh... satoru, you're- mhh” getting lost in your own growing sensations of his thick cock against and spreading your walls, your pussy throbs as he licks your breast and slightly biting your nipple. “come on, baby, make a mess on my cock” he smiles and his abs are straining with every thrust you make — his shaft is pounding you so deeply that you can feel every inch of it, “i'm cumming” you moan, digging your nails into gojo’s chest
“that’s it, sweet…” his voice is strangled and tense, experiencing his orgasm, he looks at your cunt soaked in your juices. you’re groan and stood up, trying to clean yourself up, “so fast?” he gets dressed and arches his eyebrow at the fact that you look like nothing has happened, “don’t forget who i am” you grin.
GETO:
he quietly came to you and crept up unnoticed, suguru's hands lay on your hips, “suguru” you stretch out his name and turn to him and, smiling, you kiss briefly, “is something bothering you?” you address him while he adjusts your hair, “just you” he grabbed you by your waist.
geto pushes you to your desk, pressing his groin against your ass, “that's a problem” you were dazed by his movements — he lifted your skirt and roughly tore your tights with a bang, “mhh, suguru” you're meowing when his fingers rub your aching pussy, “so wet for me already?”he grunted, pushing your underpants aside, and a slight chill washed over your skin.
“so pretty for me right now” he stroked his hard cock and pressed his tip to your soaking wet cunt, “ahh, suguru-” you whine while every inch of his length thrusts into you, “fuck, baby, you're so tight” suguru grumbles, accelerating with each thrust. your soft walls embrace his cock, moans come from your pouty lips from each of his tireless movements.
his hand roughly squeezes your wrists, fastening them to your back, continuing to bang his hips against your ass, “you're taking me so well, sweetheart” suguru coos to you, listening to your whimpering and watching you squirm under the pressure of approaching orgasm, “i ca-an't, suguru, feeling good” tears have accumulated in the corners of your eyes, “wait, baby, I'm close just wait” he growls, spasms run through him, cumming profusely into you.
geto gently removes the tears from your eyes, settling between your legs, which are still slightly shaking, “my girl, you were great” his hands gently stroke your skin, relieving you of tension.
NANAMI:
“nanami, honey, what happened to you?” your eyes widened when you noticed a reddening spot on his side, “i've miscalculated,” he sighs, answers briefly and unbuttons his shirt. you can't look away from his perfectly chiseled muscular figure. men like him are really one in a billion.
of course, kento knows that you are a sweet girl and she is excited by your slightest touch every time, and this time when you treated his wound, he tensed up, especially when you touched his abs, “everything is okay?” you're surprised he wants to leave so soon,“ i have a lot of work today. thanks” he's about to get up, but you notice a bump on his trousers and giggle softly, “relax, i'll help you.”
“does that feel good?” you wrap your hand around his cock, pressing your thumb on its tip, smearing pre cum, “darling, i think-” nanami bites his lips, his cheekbones become sharper when you kiss his shaft. a moan escapes his lips, his fingers grab your hair. you're doing it perfectly — kento can't express it by focusing on how you swallow his fat cock more and running your hand the rest of the length.
“yes… yes, like that” he whispers, looking at your moist lips and lowered fluffy eyelashes. you shake your head and moan softly when his cock rests against your throat. nanami swallows, his hip slightly rising towards you. you lose your composure, moving away from him, you run your hand more sharply over his wet cock, pushing him to the edge.
“hell, I'm close-” his cock throbs in your hand, he swears under his breath when his cum covers yours and tongue, continuing to lick his swollen tip, “i need you more often” he grinned, rubbing your lips and tracing their contour with his finger, he pushes it into your mouth.
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sleep-0-deprived · 2 months
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Toji x male Himbo reader nsfw thoughts
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Female aligned dni, 18+ only content below
Toji who bends you over the kitchen counter roughly fucking your eyes into the back of your head because you were wearing a pair of shorts that he said where “too revealing”
Toji who watches ever movement you make and every slutty action you do with that dumb doe eyed look on your face making him wanna press his cock to your lips, forcing you to suck until tears while you press your crotch against his leg trying to get some friction for your painfully hard bulge
Toji who sees you in your revealing shorts during summer, hugging your curves and body in public making him only stare at you coldly just to push you into an alley making you yelp in confusion before pushing you against the brick wall degrading you calling you “fucking whore, I bet you wanted this?, wanted me to fucking use you like the slut you are boy?” He grins and whispers in your ear while pulling your shorts down as the fall down to your ankles and he rough fucks you against the alley wall, your thighs around his hips as he holds you fucking you harshly until you can’t think straight just to make you pull your shorts up afterwards like you aren’t leaking his cum from your abused hole feeling your bloated stomach from his seed earning a grin as he licks his scar
Toji who fucks you stupid, your face pressed down in the pillows your lips parted wide as you brokenly moan his name earning a harsh slap on your ass while he degrades you calling you “personal whore, cock drunk slut, and his boy” while your eyes hazily roll into your head and tear up from pleasure not being able to think straight while he roughly fucks you
Toji who reaches down and strokes your cock while he takes you from behind, his large fingers teasing your sensitive tip as it leaks pre cum all over yourself earning a whorish whine from you making him slap your ass in the process
Toji who grips your thighs to the point of bruising as he hangs your legs over his shoulders forcing you into a mating press while his other hand running up your chest squeezing your pecs and twisting your nipples telling you hushed words like “such pretty breasts, boy” he whispers in your ear such feminine names for you while you brokenly plea “n naht bre sts~” only making him grin and fuck you harder degrading and feminizing you until you can’t moan any words
Toji who makes you suck his cock after his work outs, placing hid leaking tip against your pouty lips smearing his pre cum as you look up at him making you part your lips as his heavy cock sits on them forcing a few cat licks on the tip before he shoves it fully in your mouth, his rough hand in the back of your head as he bobs your head up and down on his cock pressing it all the way to the back of your throat forcing your face pressed into his groin as you sloppily suck him off with your drool running down your chin looking up at him with lidded eyes feeling desperate for him to bend you over again
Toji who after fucking you leaves you whining and twitching in overstimulation your cock all red and puffy with cum staining your stomach and plump pecs while your hole twitches trying to clench around the air while his cum leaks out of you down your thighs making him lick his scar and press his tip back against your leaking and abused whole as he pushes back in again leaving your jaw slacked and your face ruined
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mysicklove · 8 months
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cw: sub! gojo, heavy edging and then heavy overstimulation, hand job, crying, lots of crying and withering, gojo being cute bc i love him
wc: 1.1k
a/n: wrote this in like 30 mins. good for me. and techically by my standards this is a fic, not a drabble bc its more than 1k. wooooah
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"Make it stop!" Gojo yelps, throwing his head back against the headboard, heaving as sweat drips down his temple. His lower half was naked, and he was wearing just a simple white t-shirt, now slightly sticking to his chest from the heat.
You pull back your hand, admiring the globs of precum on it. You bring it to your mouth, kitten licking it and groaning. "You really need to eat better Satoru. Taste so bad."
"Please," He breathes, eyes lidded and watery. You take another glance at his groin, his cock weeping against his stomach. It's flushed red, dripping pathetically, but other than that, cute.
He has been just one stroke from reaching his high a total of five times now. His body has grown tired, slumped against the headboard, and twitching occasionally.
You watch his hand grab your wrists, and you raise your eyebrows, intrigued by the action. He doesn't say anything, aware of your gaze but choosing to ignore it as he cups your hand into a makeshift hole and brings it back to his cock.
You chuckle at him, letting him do what he wants for a moment. He bucks his hips up into it, eyes slightly rolling back from the feeling. It glides down without much trouble, his precum from earlier lubing his entire length, and making a lewd sort of squelching noise.
He doesn't say anything because he knows he's moments from cumming. In fact, he doesn't even make eyecontact with you, trying to almost sneak by.
It was cute, pathetic and stupid, but cute. You pull your hand away when you see his body begin to curl over.
His mouth hangs open in a broken gasp and his hands twitch. He buries them into the sheets before he gets the idea of trying to touch himself. "Y-Y'know I love you, but I fucking hate you right now," He murmurs, blue eyes peering into yours with a wobbly grin.
You laugh at him, not suprised, and ruffle his already messy hair affectionately. Then you maneuver yourself onto his lap, straddling him. He peers up at you, slightly confused, but you just hum, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His dick twitches at the attention, and he pants into your mouth.
Your soft hand comes back down to his cock, stroking the head a couple of time, watching the way his whole body seems to jerk and the breathy gasp he lets out. Suddenly, your pace is merciless, jerking him quickly and with full force. His eyes widen and his back slightly arches, his fingers digging into the sheets as he tries to process the intense sensation.
"Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum. F-Fuck! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, dont stop please!" He pleads, throwing his head back with a high-pitched, almost feminine moan. He stays true to his word, cum shoots out onto your hand and his stomach. You watch as your lovers abdomen contracts, and the way his whole body trembles under the force of the orgasm. It was an intense one, probably due to how many times he was edged.
Your hands dont stop moving through it all, and his body begins to jerk with the stinging sensation of overstimulation. "'m done," he whispers, hand reaching over to pull yours away.
You slap him away, continuing at the same pace, and he turns to you with frantic eyes, processing the situation. "N-No. No. No. No! I cant!" He pleads, tears welling up in his eyes as the sensation gets more and more painful.
You kiss away the first tear with a soft smile. "Yes you can! Cmon Satoru, all you wanted earlier was to cum. You can do it again!" You tease, kissing his neck when he looks up to the ceiling and begins to cry.
His whole body withers under you, jerking sporatically to escape your hand, and he begins to laugh. Its a mix of a giggle and a cry, sort of like someone was tickling him. He always did this when you overstimulated him, and it was always so endearing to watch. "S-Stop. Hurts. Hah! Oh fuck!"
You are stuggling to stay on top of him, his hips moving from side to side are threatening to knock you over. But you ground your knees into the sheets and use both hands to jerk him off. Wet squelching noises fill the air, mixed with his cries and helpless laughs.
But through it all, you just admire him. His pretty body that twitches and tries to escape your hold, his wet eyes that make the light blue color even brighter, the tear stained cheeks that are the prettiest red color. Everything about him was so pretty.
"I'm going to cum. No. Oh god! Too much. It's too sensitive! Im cumming. Im cumming again!" He rambles, unable to think coherent thoughts. The words just come spewling out of him, his head spinning.
Cum oozes from the tip, more pathetically this time, and he orgasms with a sob. His whole body seems to curl into himself, withering and trying to make himself as small as possible. The top of his head accidentally knocks into your chin, and you laugh, while he cries into your chest.
Your hands jerk him through it all, and the second he feels you going even a second longer after his high was over, his nails dig into your back and he pleads, "No more. Please, I'm begging. No more."
You obey his command, and let go of his cock, watching it fall back onto his stomach. You reach to grab the washcloth, wiping your hands and his stomach off. "Well that was fun."
"Fun?" He screeches dramatically, pulling himself away from your chest and using the back of arm to wipe away the excess tears. "You almost killed me!"
He goes under the sheets, pulling the blankets up to his neck with a pout. "Little dramatic much?"
"I'm not talking to you for the rest of the day," He threatens, falling limp against the pillow and staring at the ceiling.
"Alright."
A couple of minutes go by, and you hum to yourself, preparing for sleep. You listen to the sounds of Gojo tossing and turning in bed, glancing at him with amusement.
He turns to you, and narrows his eyes at you. "Do you think I can cum three times in a row?"
You pick up the lube. "You wanna find out?"
His smile falls in an instant, and he is waving his hands in front of his face. "Nope. Actually goodnight. I love you, dearest!"
You bark a laugh, and set the lube down, crawling into bed next to him. "Yeah, yeah, love you too, you kinky bastard."
"Hey!"
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peachdues · 2 months
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Levi Ackerman can and will blow your back out, but he’s also the type to lean in and press his lips hard against your forehead when you’re in the middle cumming so prettily for him.
He has your legs bent and nearly pinned to your ribs beneath the solid mass of his body. His arms are braced on either side of your head, one hand loosely fisted into your hair to make sure you keep your eyes on him and him alone. Every bit of his weight bears down into you, and it strikes you that between the fullness you feel from his cock and the pressure of his body against yours means there is no part of you that isn’t being thoroughly and completely consumed by him.
He curls one arm over your head, caging you in against the pillow while the other shoves between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to play with your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues hammering into you, allowing the blunt head of his cock to push repeatedly against that spot deep within that makes your vision turn white and your toes curl.
“There you are — oh,” he smirks at how you begin trembling beneath him, and the vibrations of your body only magnify as he rubs his hand in time with each hard grind of his hips as his cock continues bullying deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. “That’s the spot, huh, pretty girl?”
His smug, mocking smirk is a front; you know it by the way the muscles in his shoulders tense, signaling he’s summoning every bit of his own will power to fight off his own release, far too invested in savoring yours.
You’re also trying to hold on, and he knows that; he can sense it in the way your nails bite into his back, can see it in how your teeth sink into your plump bottom lip.
You want to cum — badly. And he’s more than eager to see you fall apart.
A growl, low and possessive builds in his throat. “Go on then — be a good girl and give me what I want.”
He gives another sharp, pointed thrust of his hips, burying himself all the way to his hilt before grinding against you, hard. “Let go,” he orders, his voice firmer and you know the leash he has on his own restraint is rapidly fraying.
Levi exhales a quiet swear of relief when he feels your cunt finally seize around him like a vice, and he is transfixed by broken staccato of his name that falls from your pretty lips as your climax washes over you like a wave. A surge of pride wells in his chest at how you manage to keep your eyes locked with his, even though he knows your instinct is to let them roll back into your head as you float among the clouds of pleasured bliss only until he can reach in and haul you back down to earth.
“Atta girl,” he coos, and the pace of his hips slow from those relentless, bruising thrusts to a gentle canting, each roll into your heat deep and purposeful. Then, he feels a surge of your wetness gush over him, dampening the coarse hairs of his base as the walls of your cunt continue to flutter and pulse around him, and Levi somehow finds himself becoming even more smitten with you than he already is. “Oh — it’s a big one, isn’t it?”
And when you look up at him with those big eyes of yours — wide and sparkling with tears of pleasure and exhaustion- and you nod, lower lip quivering, Levi can’t help but lean forward to press his lips to your forehead, as he continues fucking you through your high.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against your damp forehead, his groin churning torturously against yours. “Good fucking girl, cumming for me like this.”
Each grind of his coarse base right against your clit sends sparks additional waves of electrifying pleasure rocking through you until your legs are twitching and spasming beneath him. But Levi only chuckles, the sound dark and rich and so distinctly him.
He continues to guide you through the dizzying ripples of your orgasm, and when the last, gentle wave flickers out like a candle flame, Levi imparts one, final kiss against your forehead.
And then he pulls back, but he is not finished — no where near it, in fact. One by one, your legs are pushed over his shoulders until your knees are pressed to your chest, and his lips curl into something between a grin and a sneer.
He leans down and presses his mouth to the shell of your ear, and you’re not sure whether it’s the heat or his breath or the severity of his promise that sends an excited chill down your spine as he hisses, “My turn.”
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Banners from @/benkei-bear!
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drefear · 9 months
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Imagine reader artist, who loves to draw Miguel. And the other day she's just drawing naked Miguel's body. He saw it and just smirks and say: "I've got bigger than that" or "I could show/pose for accuracy"
TW: raunchy smut, Dom!miguel, fem reader, smut with no plot.
A/N: I wrote half of this while at work and a little drunk. So here ya go. Also currently in the process of writing a part two.
Miguel’s face filled your sketchbook, his back in his spider suit, his mask, every angle you could find him at. You often sat in his office for hours while he did reports, sketching him and drawing him. You loved using different mediums and colors, giving him new features and styles. You specifically loved practicing drawing his broad body and sculpted as-
Ahem. Legs.
Yes, ok, fine, you had a small crush on your boss, whatever, no big deal.
You would purposefully finish all of your work as fast as possible so you could sit back and draw him. And because you weren’t loud or annoying, and everything was always done on time and orderly, he let you.
But one mission in particular made him stressed out, and as you watched him filling out data about the anomaly he’d just captured, he glitched his suit down his torso and injected himself with that mysterious green liquid, entrancing you for those glorious few seconds.
It was very obvious he had a nice body, duh. But you never let your mind go too far in imagining him out of his suit, scared to go into a territory you couldn’t back out of.
And now you did, drawing his torso and pecks, shading his abs, and this got you curious about more.
Lower.
Biting your lip, you sat in the cafeteria a few days later. You purposefully sat with your back to a wall, making sure no one could sneak up on you and see what you were drawing, as you drew him laying down. His arms splayed behind his head, face relaxed, as you defined his leg muscles. As you finished the piece of art, the only area you’d avoided was his groin.
And now you stared at the empty area of art, knee bouncing from anxiety about how you were supposed to draw this. You had no reference for him. Yes, you’d seen dicks before, obviously. You lived in a universe with unrestricted internet access, so it’s not like you’d never been around the block, but here you were, blushing like a 15 year old just because of a dick.
Drawing and then erasing and drawing, you repeated the process a few times before you heard someone click their tongue in front of you. You’d been so consumed by what you were doing, you didn’t even feel your spider senses or hear them come close.
Miguel stood with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, eyeing you curiously. “Why are you so jumpy?” He asked and you snatched the book in front of you to your chest, stuttering some bullshit answer about too much caffeine. He just nodded and continued giving you a new order.
You got up from your seat and moved to follow him to his cold, dark lair area. As you were about to step onto his platform, you tripped and your hands flew out to stabilize your fall. As you did, the notebook flew across the floor and slid as your vision blurred from how fast you’d collapsed, getting up slowly and rolling your shoulders. You reached to where the sketch book had fallen, but it was no longer there.
No.
NO.
It was between his fingers, as he flipped through the pages slowly, eyeing your work with his brows furrowed, focused. You jumped towards him and he just turned his back, making you feel like you ran into a wall. You reached around him and he webbed your wrist to the table beside you, still not tearing his eyes from your work.
“Stop, that’s private! Give it back!” You shouted and he rolled his eyes briefly.
“It’s all drawings of me, I think I’m allowed to see-“ and his words stopped as he flipped to the newest page.
The nude drawing of him.
You gulped as his expression became unreadable, stoic, and your eyes flashed between the art and him. “I-I was just practicing forms and poses-“
“It’s… inaccurate.” He spoke lowly before your eyes blinked for a moment, confused.
“What do you mean?”
He walked to you and stood tall, bending down slightly to stare directly into your eyes. His mouth turned up at the ends and his eyes glittered with something you’d never seen in him before.
Turning the book back to you and showing you your own drawing, he smirked deeper.
“I’m much bigger.” His eyes were almost challenging you, making your blood run ice cold, and you felt his hands yank your body against his. “Do you want to see for reference?”
And then his watch made a loud sound, Lyla popping up to explain some anomaly on earth number whatever. He groaned and turned to walk out. “I’ll be back once this is done. Don’t go anywhere because When I do return, we’re continuing where we left off.”
Then he was gone and you stood, mouth agape from the whole exchange. You thought it might take a while for him to capture this anomaly, so You’d decided to go back to your own universe in preparation, showering and fixing yourself up. You bit your nail nervously as you thought about it all. Was he serious? No way, right…?
As you stood in the bathroom mirror, the sound of a portal opening cut through your mind like a knife, making your body rush into your living room. You gripped the towel tight around your torso as you saw Miguel walk out of the colorful dimension behind him and into yours. The portal closed and with that, his mask disintegrated so you could see his face. A bit tired, he still had a less-than-enthusiastic expression on.
“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He repeated and you stood stuff as a board, now a bit scared. He took slow, calculated steps towards you as your head tilted back to continue watching him. “Inaccurate and disobedient. I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” His index finger hooked under your chin as he smirked and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you into your bathroom. He looked around for a second before hitting a button on his watch and letting the fabric disappear.
You bit your lip as your eyes took full advantage of his exposed skin. “You- it-“
“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, bending you over your counter with your hand breached against your back. “Now I want you to really study how I fuck you, so that you get a good look at how big I am, and how easy I can maneuver this body.” He whispered into your damp hair and pushed down, then ripping the towel away and throwing it out of the bathroom completely.
His eyes stared down at your weeping cunt and he licked his lips. “I’ll be tasting you another time. Today, I want you to really feel my size.” He was cocky, and he had a right to be. His dick was huge, almost alarmingly big.
The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you clenched your jaw. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll go slow. That way you can feel good and still learn.” He cooed in a teasing tone and your eyes found his in the mirror, watching intently as he began to push into you. The sudden width he was stretching you to was mind numbing and your knees began to buckle, but he just held you up with one hand, the other still guiding himself into you.
“Coño, your sucking me in so nicely, might not even need to slow down.” He spoke and your eyes were rolling back from his words, to which you snapped out of once his hand that was holding you up held your face harshly towards the mirror. “No slacking, little girl. You better keep your eyes on my cock.”
Halfway inside, and you were already fluttering around him, on the verge of orgasm. “That’s it, sucia, cum on my cock. It’ll be the first time of many.” You shivered at his words, feeling him sink in further and immediately orgasming. The rolls of pleasure washing through you made him grunt as his hips couldn’t help but rut into you harshly. The lack of prep had you feeling everything he was giving you, hyper aware of your insides wrapping around him.
“Mm, wanna fuck me back? Grind back onto my cock? Paciencia, Nena.” He instructed as you kept trying to get him in further. Wrapping a hand around your torso, he tweeked at your nipples and made you gasp from the sensation. “That’s it,” he mumbled.
Finally, smirked, he chuckled darkly as you tried once more to thrust backwards. “Fine, you asked for it.” He met your eyes in the mirror, now blood red and swirling with the threat as he snapped his hips forward and forced the rest of him into you, making you gargle out a strained sound in shock and pleasure. The pain was beautiful, and began to subside quickly as you felt him twitch. He hit every spot and more, feeling new depths and points of pleasure.
Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as he started a slightly faster pace. Your body jiggled from the movements and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your apartment, your mouth hanging open as your eyes never left were his dick was buried into you. He smiled, enjoying the way you watched his cock disappear into you over and over, and you felt the pressure building once more. How he bullied your cunt and grinned while doing it made you burst, tears breaking free and a scream ripping through you as your pussy squeezed him.
“Fuck, so tight.” He groaned, head now falling back and he kept going, beginning to chase his own high. Your mind had shut off now, fucked practically stupid on his cock and he rocking into you mercilessly. His speed was unmatched and he moved to pick up your hips to meet his, closing the gap your height difference had created, and finally having him slam into you until his hips met your ass, making you choke on your own oxygen from the absolute brutal beating he was giving your cervix.
He slid one hand to the back of your neck and pressed you further into the counter top of your sink, forcing your pert nipples to meet the cold marble and you cried out more, barely able to push back against him now as you were trapped between his body and your bathroom’s confinements with only your top toes touching the floor. Your face was streaked with tears as he grunted and let out ragged breaths.
“The perfect little pussy, so perfect for my cock. You can take it, little artist. You wanted to draw my cock so badly, now you have the perfect image to do it. Fucked deep inside of you. Draw us like this for me, yeah? I wanna see it everyday. Or should I just fuck you every day instead?” His words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche and you could feel his cock about to burst, making you teeter over that cliff as well. “That’s it, strangle my cock. Cum all over me, niña, paint me with your cute cunt.” He demanded and you obliged, feeling a shooting electric sensation rip out of you. Suddenly, you were both a bit wet between the thighs and he was mesmerized by what he saw. Your juices squirt all over him and he came instantly after seeing that, pounding into you as far as he could and forcing his cum the deepest it could be inside of you.
Both of you were unmoving as you caught your breath, a layer of sweat covering you both as you stared at each other in the mirror. No words could describe what had just happened and Miguel smiled once more, which prompted you to ask.
“What?”
“You need to get a mirror by your bed. Because I want to do this to you every day.” He watched your eyes widen in the mirror in front of you both as he licked your neck from behind and sinking his fangs into your soft skin, jutting his hips once more and making you realize he was still hard.
“For art purposes.”
Part two is out!
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dollwrites · 9 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 — 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, facefucking, deepthroat, it gets sloppy, toji’s mean, degradation, noncon, failed tap outs, suggested age gap, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ i caved and finally wrote my first toji fic i know i’ve been teasing for a while. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
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“What are you crying for, huh?” Toji’s vice on your hair was a tight fist, creating a makeshift ponytail so he could see your tears on your face. “You wanted to learn, didn’t you, girlie?” you could hear the amusement in his voice. the arrogance of knowing he was too much for you. too big. too rough. but uncaring. “Now you’re gonna boo-hoo about it?”
the best you could manage was a gargling whimper, your lips stretched wide around the thickness of his mighty cock. if your eyes crossed, you could see the shine from your spit and lipgloss smeared along the surface of his skin, giving each rigid vein a highlight. if you watched his inches disappear into your mouth, you got dizzy. the way he dribbled your head on his groin had your head spinning. back and forth, up and down, hard and fast.
“Just take it and stop whining so much, little bitch.”
Toji Fushiguro didn’t do soft and sweet.
you knew that, but you’d hoped he’d take a little more care than this.
you could feel the bones in his knuckles bat against the back of your head when he pushed you down hard, forcing the majority of him into your mouth, the girthy, reddened head threatening to push its way right down your throat, and when he yanked on your hair to pull you back, your scalp stung. you couldn’t help but whine and choke— he wasn’t giving you any choice. you’d forgotten how to stay calm and breathe through your nose, and instead twitched and squirmed.
“Fucking hell,” he grunted, and took a moment to exert his power on you, pushing you down until you kissed his broad base, the musky coarse hair tickling your nostrils and scraping against your plushy cheeks, “can’t even take a cock without being a drama queen. Stop moving around so damn much, let me get in that tight, little throat.” he held you there, trying to force his way in, but you couldn’t stop yourself from freaking out the second you felt him start to invade. bunching your shoulders, you push yourself up from where you were sitting on your calf muscles, both hands fleeing to pat and shove at his muscular thighs in a gagging attempt to tell him to stop. you felt the need to retch, and the sensation of having your air supply limited so drastically so quickly, and every alarm in your head went off to get off of him.
“What?” he barked, breathing ragged. “Want me to stop already? Can’t take it?”
you nod and Toji laughs.
“That’s too damn bad.”
for as much as you fought, Toji was stronger, and with a frustrated snarl, he grabbed your head with both hands, instead. gripping either side, he walked you backwards, mouth full of cock, until he pushed the back of your head against the opposing wall. his stance wide, heavy feet planted against either of your legs, he pinned your back to the wall. “Gettin’ real tired of your crybaby ass. Gonna have to teach you my way.”
his way was cruel, and you came to understand that as he jackhammered into your drooling, squealing mouth at a brutal pace, his heavy balls smacking against your chin. you can feel how the skin wants to stick to the gluey saliva dribbling from your sore mouth. your nails bite at his thighs, leaving angry, red scores, but he doesn’t ease up. he refuses to let you breath for even a moment, his large, hot palms clamped over your ears.
it was only after he’d battered the back of your throat and started to slip inside with each, merciless thrust, that you started to cluck, loud and helpless, squinting your eyes. even through the blur of your tears and the wincing, you could still make out his incredibly imposing, powerful figure casting a formidable shadow over you as he power fucked your throat.
maybe it was the subtle yet consistent bumping of your head against the wall, or the overwhelming scent and taste of his arousal enveloping you, overloading your senses, but you started to realize you weren’t struggling nearly as much. your hands, that had been desperate to claw your way to freedom, had ceased, your wrists going limp, as you slumped back against the wall to simply take him until he was done.
“That’s it, those are the sounds I like to hear, that feels fucking good,” he moans, baring his teeth. “Not much fight left in you now, is there? Still want me to be nice, still wanna stop?” for a moment, and much to your surprise, Toji withdrew his cock, allowing it to pop free from your abused, swollen lips. air flooded your lungs and you croaked on it, pushing globs of spit and precum out of the well to drip down your chin and stain your chest. your eyes widen, and you suck in every gulp of oxygen that you could, but you didn’t want to move, just in case he slammed your head into the wall again. weakly, uncertainly, your glassy eyes flicker up to the older man, and you give a defeated shake of your head. “That’s what I thought. You’re getting the hang of it.” he chuckled, hoarsely, running his calloused fingertips over your sticky, messy cheek before giving you a few, solid slaps of encouragement. or, perhaps, praise. you couldn’t tell. you didn’t care. you mewl and try to shy away from it, but he grasps your face hard in one hand and drags you back to look at him. “Now, sit pretty and be a good throat whore. This time, I’m not stopping until I shoot a load into your belly.”
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bluesidez · 30 days
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GymRat!Miguel Part 1
I’ve seen everyone doing these drabbles/aus and I wanted to join! 🤠
content warning: It gets suggestive towards the end so MINORS BEWARE.
word count: 719 (kind of proofread, I got excited)
Daydreaming about GymRat!Miguel x PlusSize!Reader / Chubby!Reader and the dynamic of big tall bf x shorter chubby gf 🚻
Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who started off as an awkward, lanky, nerdy teen using the gym to blow off steam. His mom felt that he wasn’t a great influence to his brother, his father wasn’t his real father, and his step-brother was an asshole.
GymRat!Miguel who’s nearly triple his weight by the time he starts college, body full of muscle. His mom has calmed down despite him previously eating her out of a house and a home. His biological dad agreed to help with any leftover college expenses and his step-dad helps him move on campus. He’s tearful when he hugs Gabriel goodbye, promising to call and play their weekly games.
GymRat!Miguel who stays loyal to his nerdy roots and aims for a Science degree with a minor in Robotics for fun. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his classes, body taking up the ends of lab tables. Even though he prefers to sit in the front of classes, he opts to sit in the back so that everyone can see. He’s constantly using office hours and lingering after class so that he can make sure that his notes are correct.
GymRat!Miguel who first meets you in one of his bio labs and is immediately enamored by you. Your clothes hug your curves, you smell sweet, and something on you always matches. Your shoes and your backpack, your skirt and your jacket, your accessories and your nails.
GymRat!Miguel who ends up being in your group for a project and watches in awe as you take the lead, helping everyone decide which parts to complete. You go out of your way to make the powerpoint colorful and creative. You’re ecstatic when he turns in his parts extra early as everyone else has gone a-wall.
GymRat!Miguel who calms you down when the deadline is near and the rest of the group still hasn’t done their part. You two meet late in the library to finish everything. He thinks you’re adorable despite how stressed and tired you are. He makes the last minute decision to delete the other two group member’s names off of the title slide, taking the initiative to email the teacher before hand.
GymRat!Miguel who walks into the lab building on presentation day 50 minutes early and sees you being cornered by the other group members eyes full of confusion. He quickly walks over asking if there was a problem. Seeing him looming over them, the two decide give up, and scramble together a last minute presentation.
GymRat!Miguel who explains everything, telling you not to worry about the others and just focus on you all’s presentation. You two have great presentation, chemistry blooming as you bounce off each other. You both get an easy A and you hug Miguel out of an excitement before the next lab starts.
GymRat!Miguel who imprints the feeling of your body against his in his memory. Your smell, how soft you were, how small you felt in his arms, how tight you squeezed him.
GymRat!Miguel whose dreams of you have him tossing and turning in his twin sized bed that was far too little for him. He scares his poor roommate to death when his body hits the floor with a big boom. The dream of you under him shattering as he collides with the ground. He groans and apologizes to his roommate, pain in his side and his groin.
GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower, too aroused to go back to sleep. He bites his fist trying to quiet his moans, not wanting to wake his roommate for a second time. He replays images of you in his mind, pulling at his length until he shutters against the tile walls.
GymRat!Miguel whose heart drops when he checks his phone after his shower. You followed him on Instagram three hours ago. He checks your page and sees that you're private, but your profile picture is a lot. It's an angle from above you, your cleavage on display.
GymRat!Miguel who stands in the bathroom ogling at the photo like an idiot. He clicks the follow back button, watching as it shifts to pending, and stares down at his body again. He sighs and turns the shower back on, banking on his roommate sleeping through everything once again.
You had no idea the effect you had on him.
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dividers by @y-onb 🩵
Leave a like and a comment! Let me know how you feel 😶‍🌫️
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astralnymphh · 3 months
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thinking about painslut!ellie who likes getting scratched up by long nails.. ✮
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nothing— and i punctuate nothing, compares to the painful bliss of feeling nails as whetted as a great white's jaw of knives tear red valleys into her shoulder blades. hell, ellie encourages you to mark up her back. not necessarily by words, though. a sort of fucking frenzy will kick in, and she'll embolden those claws to bite with her hips, rolling on yours, dragging her soppy folds all over your cunt. ellie angles herself in various ways; draws her groin under yours to hump your clit directly, positions and splays her pretty bush as she bounces on your bud, plasters her pussy full–on and circles the skin 'round. an unorthodox aim to get you wailing, "yyesss ellie!" as you cum against her puffy pussy and straightaway, without hesitation tracing your fingertips up her supple, dry–scored skin, you dip pressure beneath the jut of her shoulder blades and shred the flesh. "fuck! fuuck!" els' winces to your ear, growlish on the lobe as she nips it, "yeah, make me fucking bleed baby, fuckin' bleed." almost knurling her back into your clawing palms, seizing and clenching up her rump on your cunt as her cum spills lubricous and frothy inside your pussy lips, hiking herself up just so you could visual the honeyed webs keeping you two connected. "hurts so good, mhmm, so fucking.." but she is nay of breath and hazy of her heart and eye, the added zap to her climaxing core and the throbbing affliction of fresh crimson dashes oozing tiny beads of blood, sanguineous delight, offering of the pale mistress moon— has her merry to pass out. collapsing, her orangey sweat breasts fall to yours and squish like two pancakes, damp waist laying next, and lastly her chin hooking a home upon the nook of your neck, parting breaths she longs to not be livened of soon enough. "thank you.. thank y' thank— mhh, thank you." ellie recites a push of praises through your collarbone, her hand draped limp on your bicep wiping it's thumb so gentle with care, the ghostly graze dithers your brain a second— a moment you skip and fuzz the realization of a warm drip streaming on your rib during, the grasp of what that dribble was hitting you like a brick. "ellie, ur' back— y'need to.. huhh.. band-aid.." exhausted, little heaves clog your throat through the words, but ellie slacks her head up and renders them useless regardless, "mh–mm, it's fine. don't need 'em tonight." she gauzes your light worries in a tone that sifts through you, relaxes you, crafts you a reason to wonder 'why bother', and lie there lackadaisical as her kisses pepper cold on searing skin, a dozing meadow under the twilight sky of her sleepy gaze and in her arms like earth crust and soil fertile. sprouting in you a drug–like miasma that eats your thoughts and lulls your physical senses into a numb horizon, the last thing perceptible is the wash of air above you and a weighted thump beside you, leading you to believe ellie had bet on falling asleep as well, happy as a parakeet with liquid–iron proof of her bloody lovemaking flowing like a waterfall of bitterness down her back.
however, that proof had leaked and dotted the bedsheet come virgin daylight, adding one more thing to the laundry basket. ౨ৎ
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anantaru · 4 months
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sucking diluc off in public is my dream
cw. oral (male! receiving), throatfucking, public syx, fem! reader
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the way diluc was whenever you two were intimate with each other was exactly how he was in real life, entirely merciless when he craved to pleasure you, but reserved when it's you doing it to him— when you suddenly realize he's been rubbing against his clothed bulge ever so often with a dizzy haze in his eyes as he yearns for some relief.
"we— ugh, shouldn't," he panics at first when you guide him towards the safe area of the angels share, "if someone sees us—" and despite his previous fear of being caught with his dick literally down your throat and his pants down, there's a pleasurable burn crawling over his groin when your mouth presses into him until your nose tickles his base, and the way he looks at you was needy, and a little wild and exciting.
diluc watches with both attention and interest as you leisurely pull back to suckle on his tip, your tongue continuously kitty licking at the underside of his cock, both your frames veiled away in the sheltered upstairs area of his tavern where customers couldn't spot you.
his eyes were fully focused on you, but mostly they caught on to the borderline painful looking stretch of your lips wrapping around his thick shaft, his large hand caressing the back of your head as you guide your mouth lower.
"angel, fuck— you feel so so good," his voice was continuously breaking under the weight of your plump lips wrapping and molding into his shape and shit— he loves seeing you like this, eager to tease him and the fact that he was the only person you'd do this to sent his body in a frenzy.
you're both so filthy— adventurous for doing this right now, and every time he hears the pesky noises from downstairs, be it the clashing of cups or the loud yells of drunk customers, his thighs violently shake under your touch when you bring his attention back with a harsh stroke of your head bobbing down.
you look up at him, hollowing out your cheeks and swirling your tongue over the tip as you pull back, making his muscles scream for more of this, more relief as you manage to give him more.
diluc wasn't necessarily the loudest whenever you were intimate with each other, while now for the first time, he has to be quiet in order to keep your bodies sheltered from someone catching up on the two of you. despite the soft grunts that will sometimes rumble in his chest, he keeps himself silent, but finds himself in trouble when you're  trying harder and harder to take inch after inch, his body reacting when your throat flexes whenever you attempt to taste more of him.
he is just so warm and big in your mouth it fizzles your eyes with tears— and your throat just loved the stretch of his member, or his musky scent invading your nostrils and taking claim of your delirious mind.
you love every bit of what was going on and so did he— from the calloused hand on the back of your head holding you against his dripping cock, to his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over whenever you let him fuck your mouth like he wanted to, and not to forget the friction from your digits suddenly sliding down south to push between your thighs rubbing together, relieving yourself off any bit of the tension going on within your wet sex aching for him.
"jus... like that doll," he hisses at you, "so good, fuck—,"
he's digging his fingers into your head and holds you down on his erection as you gulp filthily around him, your messy spit oozing from the sides of your mouth and dribbling down from your chin to the wooden floor, smearing across not only yourself but his pants as well.
his cock twitches when you squeeze his balls and massage them in your palm, his shaft thickening in a way that you can evidently taste it on your tongue as he cums with a silent cry of your name, his greedy seed spilling hot inside of you as he continues to throatfuck you.
you press your fingernails into the flesh of his muscular thighs as you swallow his gift, and diluc groans at the sight, his eyes open wide after having himself lost in the hot tightness of your mouth.
you whimper around his shaft, barely— a vibration so pathetic that he glances down at you sheepishly, his cock still crowded into your wet mouth as you meet his gaze through doused lashes.
"you did so well, love .."
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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comfortless · 4 months
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hades! konig and persephone! reader
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content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.
notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕
A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.
When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.
It should have been left at that.
She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.
He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.
Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.
Yet, she never does.
König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.
She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.
Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.
All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.
He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.
The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.
“Why does he never speak to us?”
Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.
It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.
The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.
It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.
He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.
The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.
“Look at this one!,” she calls out.
Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.
“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”
König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.
“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”
“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”
“But… I want it.”
She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.
The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.
With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.
She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.
Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.
“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.
He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.
If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.
“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.
He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.
“I brought you here.”
She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.
The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.
She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.
His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.
“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.
A mere taste wouldn’t do.
Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.
“You are to be my wife.”
That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.
“I don’t belong here.”
König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.
“You will.”
A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.
“How could that be?”
He doesn’t respond.
More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.
“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.
Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.
“Quite… yes.”
She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.
There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.
He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.
He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.
It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.
The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.
She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.
— — —
With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.
Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.
When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.
Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.
Never has she returned with a gift.
Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.
“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.
Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.
He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.
“Did you?”
She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.
“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.
“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.
Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.
She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.
“I don’t think that I understand.”
“You should.”
He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.
She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?
“To tie you to me,” she says softly.
The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.
Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.
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