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smallpeniscollective · 6 months

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Raphael fuckers, come get y'all juice!!

another smutty Raphael/Haarlep blurb for a concept I CANNOT get out of my HEAD

ladies, gentlemen, and anyone else who showed up to the potluck, here’s some good old fashioned dp with Raphael and Haarlep

content: pov/2nd person, she/her pronouns, afab body parts, pet names, devil sex, fingering with claws (yeOWCH), orgasm delay/denial, p-in-v, p-in-a, double penetration, master/pet dynamic, and whatever else comes with sploinking the devil and his incubus

trigger warning for pain during sex and also for rough sex as punishment for stealing from the house of hope

(this kinda ended up Way longer than a blurb so please enjoy just some porn with barely any plot)

*~*~*

He could have whisked your clothes away in an instant with one of his usual theatrical snaps, but you could sense this was a power play, to make you feel your submission to him deep under your skin. Ravenous, glowing eyes watched as you undressed, making you feel suddenly shy and yearning to hide from his penetrating gaze.

“Oh, don’t be timid now, little mouse. You lost that right the second you entered my home without permission.”

While your terrifyingly hopeless situation had your blood running cold, you couldn’t deny that feeling the low rumble of his voice in your naked chest sent a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You continued to undress with averted eyes and shaky hands. When you dropped the last of your clothing onto a small pile on the floor, you managed to look up at him with anxiously rounded eyes.

“On the bed,” he ordered. His voice sounded cruel and cold, contradicting how intimate this felt to you.

You felt the sensation of shame drop your heart in your chest, unable to stop the panicked wondering of what your companions would think of their fearless leader degrading herself so willingly for a devil.

But your body acted of its own volition, obeying his orders and climbing into the bed rather ungracefully. You sat towards the edge of the bed on your heels, kneeling before him as if he were the answer to your prayers, despite him being the main threat to your existence in this moment.

He approached the mattress with slow and calculated steps while his tail swished behind him like an irritated cat. His wings extended out wide, encompassing you and blocking your view of anything but him.

His hand raised, and you instinctively flinched, only for him to slowly stroke his knuckles down the side of your cheek. His lips curled into a wicked grin in response to your fear. “Don’t act so scared, little thief. I won’t harm you… yet.”

Your heartbeat quickened in your chest at the promise of pain.

He gripped your chin tightly with his thumb and finger, pressing his claw into your bottom lip. When your lips instinctively parted, he dove in. You never expected his kisses to be gentle, but the scorch of his lips pulled a surprised noise out of you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let him consume you with greedy licks of his hot tongue.

His other hand grazed your cheek before tracing down the side of your neck, claws scratching against your soft skin as he slid that hand into the hair at the nape of your neck.

When your hands moved to touch him, he gripped your hair and yanked your head back harshly, prying your open mouth from his. You whimpered from the sting of your hair almost being ripped out.

“You will not move until instructed. Do you understand?”

You tried to nod your head, but his firm grip on your hair didn’t allow much wiggle room.

“Use your words, pet.” His eyes were half-lidded with lust, but the cruel glare shined through his fiery irises.

“Yes,” you squeaked. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at how weak you felt in that moment, when your entire journey seemed to have been about proving your strength.

“Yes, what?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes at you. He was searching for submission in your frightened eyes, attempting to crush any form of rebellion against him you had left.

You reactively gulped, mouth suddenly dry as you realized what he wanted. With your voice as meek and vulnerable as you had ever heard it, you whispered, “Yes, master.”

The sharp-toothed grin that spread across his face could only be described as pure evil. The hero of Faerun, the ender of the Shadow Curse and life-saver to any unfortunate soul who crossed your path, was nothing but a mere pet to their new master.

“I so enjoy that title from your lips, dearest pet,” he hummed.

Before you could think of any response, his heavy hands swiftly moved to shove your shoulders back, sending you flying into mattress. You landed with a gasp on your back, and he was quick to pull your legs towards him, spreading you wide for him.

He had been able to smell your arousal from the moment he laid eyes on you in his home, but seeing now how truly wet you were for him, slick dripping from your folds and smeared across your inner thighs, it seemed to boost his ego beyond his absurd level of narcissism. “My, my,” he mused, swiping a clawed finger along your drenched slit, “it seems you rather enjoy submitting to my whims.”

Without instruction to move, you gripped the silken sheets with quick, shaky breaths as he toyed with you. When his claw caught on your clit, you inhaled sharply and bit down in your bottom lip.

Suddenly, two large fingers were shoved into you, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you at the feeling of being stretched beyond what your own two fingers could manage. His pace was teasingly slow as he watched your body react to his touch, how your thighs trembled and your abdomen clenched. When his gaze shifted up at your eyes squeezed shut, he paused his motions. “Eyes on me, little mouse. You wouldn’t want me to take your averted gaze as disrespect, would you?”

“No,” you whimpered, opening your eyes slowly. When you met his eyes, his stare was downright predatory, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

“No?” he asked sharply, correcting your mistake of forgetting your manners. He forced his hand in deep, and you felt the tips of his claws press into your cervix in a warning.

“No, master.” Your brows upturned with an unspoken apology.

“Do not make me remind you again,” he threatened, digging his claws deeper into the flesh of your cunt.

“I’m sorry, master,” you whined. You could feel your walls throbbing around his hot fingers.

Satisfied with your reply, he continued pumping his fingers into you, letting his sharp claws freely scrape against your insides. Your moans mixed with winces as you experienced the pleasure mixing with pain in a way you never pictured yourself enjoying so much.

After what felt like an eternity of such sinful pleasure, a warmth bloomed below your stomach, pulling a string tight within you. When your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled them out, eliciting a pathetic whine from your lips as that feeling in your abdomen sizzled out.

“Fret not, dearest thief, we’re not done yet,” he murmured before stepping back from the bed and snapping his wet fingers.

A flash of bright flames sparked, and you recognized the devilish form that appeared beside the bed.

“You called, master?” Haarlep asked, shifting his gaze from the still-clothed cambion to your naked body with unbridled lust.

Raphael looked over at Haarlep, and you witnessed the possessive gleam in his eyes fade into something colder and strangely more distant in regards to his personal incubus. “I want you to fuck our little thief,” he said bluntly. “And do make sure she comes. It will make the next act of our torrid affair… easier to handle.”

His phrasing had your mind beginning to spin with worry, but before you could vocalize any concerns, Haarlep obliged his master. He crawled onto the bed with fluid movements and slithered over your smaller frame, lining up his already-hard cock with your soaked entrance.

“Wait,” Raphael barked. Haarlep turned towards his master, and you both watched as Raphael walked towards the side of the bed and snapped his fingers once more. An elegant chair appeared behind him, and he promptly sat, crossing his leg over his knee and curling his fingers around his chin as if he were in deep thought. “Now, you may begin.”

At his words, Haarlep turned back to you, smiling wickedly. “I remember you,” he said, his voice identical to Raphael’s but with more whimsy, “you were the little mouse who snuck around the cat’s house. How does it feel to be beneath his claws?”

“Haarlep, your order was to fuck her, not to make conversation,” You could hear the annoyance in his tone.

“Very well, master,” Haarlep said, before settling his hands on the plump flesh of your hips and pushing into you. The first thing you felt was the sting of the stretch, much larger than anything you had felt before. You panted between pained moans as the ridges and bumps that adorned his member dragged along your tight walls, and your eyes squeezed shut involuntarily in response.

“Eyes on me, pet,” Raphael said, and you obediently opened them once more, turning your head to face him as Haarlep ground his hips against yours to nudge his cock deeper into you. Raphael studied your face as your brows upturned and your mouth hung open in intense pleasure.

You could see outline of Raphael’s erection through his breeches; he was feeling every sensation that the incubus was as you were taken in front of him. Raphael's eyes remained on you as he demanded, “Harder,” but you could tell the order was not for you when Haarlep’s grip on your hips tightened. His claws left deep, crescent-shaped indentions as they dug into your delicate skin.

Haarlep’s sensual slower thrusting then became hard pounding, and the sound of wet skin slapping against skin began to fill the room, along with the noises he pulled out of you. Your knuckles turned white from the grip you had on Raphael’s sheets as your low moans morphed into cries of pleasure. Your eyes were still on his but beginning to blur with tears as he watched you be fucked relentlessly by his copy.

Raphael let out his own quiet groans as he felt the sensation of your phantom cunt squeezing and quivering around him. He smoothly uncrossed his legs, spreading his thighs in a deliciously dominant way and untied the string to his breeches to free his aching cock. Precum leaked from his tip as he lazily stroked his shaft.

“Touch her,” he ordered Haarlep. You grew somehow even wetter at his orders when his eyes never left you.

“As you wish,” you heard Haarlep’s voice sing out, his face just barely in your peripheral view. One of his hands moved from your hip to your most sensitive region, and you gasped loudly at the caress of your clit as he continued his hard thrusts.

At the sensation of your clit being touched and the pleasurable pounding you were taking, your knees lifted of their own accord to hold at Haarlep's hips. You could feel the bruises forming already from the ridges on his hips digging into your skin, yet that string inside of you wound tightly once more. You knew it wouldn’t take long for it to snap.

Your loud moans were music to Raphael’s ears as he stroked harder and tighter, his cock now glistening with an abundance of precum. He grunted before asking in a voice even lower and reverberant than before, “Do you wish to come, little mouse?”

“Yes, master,” you managed through your moans.

“And she calls you ‘master’,” Haarlep cooed at your use of the word. “What a delectable little mouse, indeed.”

Haarlep’s generous circling of your aching clit and deep rutting had you seeing stars. You could feel yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, and your thighs began to shake vigorously from holding it back. Raphael could see this, watching you teeter on that edge with a lick of his lips.

He waited, of course.

Pleasure turned into torture as you wailed, your fingers going numb from how tightly you were gripping the sheets. Your muscles grew taught with the exertion of holding in your orgasm.

You didn’t want to beg, but you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, master!” you cried out, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

When your cries of pleasure became pitiful sobs, Raphael finally relented.

“Go on then, pet. Come for me.”

With a strained moan, your back arched and your vision blurred as white hot pleasure flooded through you, ebbing through you in waves as Haarlep rode you through it, pounding so hard you could feel it bruise your cervix.

Your thighs twitched as your legs instinctively tried to close from the overstimulation of still being ravaged by the incubus, but Haarlep moved his hands to your knees to keep your legs pried open for him as he continued.

“Enough.” Raphael stood up from his chair as Haarlep stopped his movements, stilling himself inside of you and turned his head towards Raphael. “Up.”

You looked to Haarlep, and Haarlep glanced your way quickly to express his annoyance in having to stop before pulling himself off of you. You let out a soft whine as he pulled his cock out of you, feeling suddenly empty.

“You as well,” Raphael said, gesturing at your limp body.

You took in a deep breath and sat up, muscles already sore as you slinked off of the bed. When you stood up, your knees almost buckled beneath you, but you kept yourself up on trembling legs. He noticed, smirking to himself at your weakened state.

With another snap of his fingers, his clothes were gone, and you couldn’t help but stare at his naked form. You had seen it on Haarlep, but Haarlep’s form was a little less sharp than Raphael’s, with his slightly rounder jaw and softer nose. Raphael’s true naked form was enthralling, the divots and ridges on his body seeming sharper, more dangerous.

He took his place on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a smug expression. He gestured to his cock, still erect and glistening with his precum.

You understood the silent command, climbing back onto the bed. You crawled on all fours towards him and took the opportunity to freely graze your hands up his muscular legs, touching as much skin as you could—as much skin as you were allowed to touch. Despite how rough the two fiends had been with you, your touch was adoring and gentle as your fingertips brushed over the ridges and protruding veins.

When Raphael's expression shifted from inquisitive to impatient, you took it as a cue to fulfill his desire and made your way to his lap to straddle his textured hips. You let your drenched folds glide over his shaft in a slight teasing manner, this being the only teasing you could sneak in before his hands seized the meat of your thighs to serve as a reminder of who was in charge.

You took the large member in your much smaller hand while your other hand landed on his broad chest for stability, and you slid the head of his cock down your slit to guide it towards your entrance. With a sharp breath, you pushed down onto him, still feeling sore from the previous pounding. When your hips landed against his with him fully sheathed, you took a moment to adjust to the sheer size of him yet again. Both of your hands on his chest now, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breathing, and he, in turn, gave your thighs an assertive squeeze to let you know he was done waiting.

Your pace was slow on weak thighs as you rocked yourself against him. But his cock nudging that soft spot deep in your core egged you on, giving you just enough energy to revitalize your need.

You let yourself fall against him, clinging to him and nestling your face in the warmth that was the crook of his neck as you chased that high once more. His hands moved to your waist, forcing you down harder against him, and you couldn't stop the whimpers tumbling past your lips, landing right in his ear.

You felt the bed dip in weight behind you, but you were too focused on the grind of your hips and the pleasure climbing in your core to pay any mind to it.

"What a naughty little pet," you heard Haarlep muse from behind you, but you didn't dare slow or stop your movements. Haarlep sat himself atop Rapahel's mid-thighs, planting himself right behind you, and you could feel his heat radiating onto your back.

"Some spittle, to prepare her," Raphael instructed through soft grunts, and Haarlep eagerly complied, deftly snaking a large hand around the column of your throat before suddenly prying you off of Raphael and pulling you back against him.

Then Haarlep took his turn devouring your lips. His kiss was much more gentle than Raphael's, and you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. Your hips ground down harder against Raphael as Haarlep beckoned your lips open with a swipe of his tongue. The second your lips parted for him, his tongue was barging into your mouth, stroking your tongue with tender licks.

When the saliva seeping down your throat made you reactively gulp, you felt your insides light up with an energy that could only be described as carnal lust in its most calamitous form. Electricity seeped into every fiber of your being, tingling all the way down to your fingers and toes. Every muscle in your body ached for sex, more and more sex until it consumed you whole.

Subconsciously, your pace atop Raphael quickened. Your moans, muffled by Haarlep's mouth on yours, heightened in pitch and intensity. Arousal pooled beneath you, leaking onto Raphael's skin and aiding your gliding atop his hips.

Raphael leaned forward, greedily taking a nipple into his mouth while his other hand groped at your other breast roughly. Your hands flew to his head, your fingers digging into his soft hair as you pulled him further against you. You practically mewled when his hot tongue ran over the bud, letting his sharpened teeth scratch your sensitive skin as he sucked.

Your core felt dangerously aflame with a mounting pleasure surging through every inch of your body. Haarlep released your lips, eyes burning into yours to watch his spittle work its magic on you. With his hand still on your throat, his other hand tickled the skin along your spine as it snuck down your back.

In your haze of primal desire, you almost didn't notice Haarlep's fingers swipe at the puddle of your own wetness beneath you, until you felt those fingers smear the slick over your unused hole. Still holding his stare, your eyes widened at the realization of what the next act of your "torrid affair" truly was.

Raphael intended to stuff you full of two cocks, both of which he would be feeling inside of you.

Your mouth dropped open, attempting to stutter out any protest you could think of in the moment, but your words—or lack thereof—were cut short by the hand around your throat quickly moving up. Your jaw was abruptly encapsulated by Haarlep's large hand, muffling any noise you could make.

"Hush now," his voice rumbled in your ear, sending more tingles down your spine. Your labored breathing through your nostrils sounded loud against his hand. "Don't you want to be a good little mouse for your master?"

At the word, Raphael released your breasts, paying his full attention to the interaction between you and Haarlep. You felt him pull away, and your frantic eyes locked with his in a silent plea. You had never had any lovers use that particular hole; you weren't ready for it to be intruded upon.

But the spittle in your veins begged for more.

The tip of Haarlep's cock pressed into the tight ring of muscle, and the feeling was... strange, to say the least. You never used this hole in any pursuits of passion, you never thought to. It was uncomfortable, but the member still being coated in your slick made it easier to take.

The stretch as he pushed in farther burned more than it did in your cunt, and low, pained moans slipped past your lips in response, still muffled by Haarlep's hand.

You stilled your movements, unable to continue grinding with this new sensation distracting you. Your inner walls throbbed around the two cocks, and you could feel the sweat covering your skin, spurred on by the heat of the two infernal bodies surrounding you. With your eyes still on Raphael's, your chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths.

"It seems our little thief needs some aid," Raphael said, his voice more gravelly than before. He removed his hands from your waist, allowing Haarlep's hands to take his place, and you sucked in a sharp breath the second your mouth was freed.

"Sing for us, little mouse," Haarlep whispered in your ear before he forced you down by the waist, plunging the two cocks deep into you.

You shrieked at the pain, and tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. The stretch, the burning, the stinging; it was too much. But you were not granted a moment of reprieve when Haarlep effortlessly lifted you and shoved you down repeatedly.

The spittle in your system felt like a godsend now, easing the pain and turning it into a plethora of pleasure as the ridged cocks ground together with the only barrier between them being your slick inner walls. You continued to wail, it being the only sound your used, feeble body could make.

Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open as your vision blurred from your tears.

But Raphael would not allow your eyes to close. He wiped the sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face before gripping your jaw with a grip that almost crumbled the bone.

"Eyes. On. Me."

The dam finally broke, and the tears leaked down your face inn warm streams as you blubbered, "I- I can't. T-too much."

He laughed coldly in your face, his broad chest bouncing with the deep chuckle. "Thieves must be punished, dear. Is this not a merciful punishment? Would you rather I skin you? Maim you, hm? Make you bleed?"

You sobbed, your body shaking. You couldn't even tell if it was cries of pleasure or cries of terror; you were too far gone as the devil and his incubus abused your frail, mortal body.

That familiar string winding tight in your lower belly once more was the hint that it was, in fact, cries of immense pleasure, the kind of body-wrecking pleasure that you could never experience with another mortal soul.

Raphael could feel you tightening around him, and the sight of his favorite little misadventurer, his dearest thief, falling apart so beautifully under his claws...

This image of you would make the most wonderful painting to adorn his grand halls.

Haarlep felt it too, and his response to it was to quicken his forceful pace of shoving you down on him and Raphael. His hold on you was so tight that his claws dug into your sides, and small beads of blood trickled down your sweaty skin, not that you even noticed in the moment.

The rapidity of being shoved on two cocks and the pressure of them digging into every soft spot inside of you had you racing towards a powerful orgasm. You could see in Raphael eye's that he was near his own end with his quick grunts and heaving chest. His hold on your jaw loosened and changed to a gentle holding of your chin, keeping your teary eyes on him throughout all of this, while his other hand sought out your clit once more. He wanted to feel you come apart.

And come apart, you did.

With one last wail, a tsunami of blindingly hot pleasure surged through you, sending every nerve into overdrive. Your walls squeezed the two cocks tightly, and every continual shove down on them resurged the bliss until your body was convulsing.

The squeeze of your cunt and sound of your cries pulled his orgasm out of Raphael, and his lips parted. In a chorus of low and sultry noises, you felt him and Haarlep come inside of you in tandem, the molten heat of infernal seed filling up both of your holes.

When they finally stilled, Haarlep released his grip on your waist, and you instantly keeled over, landing against Raphael's chest with a barely-audible whine. You were exhausted, out of breath, and slick with sweat and a faint amount of your own blood.

Raphael's breathing returned to a normal pace almost immediately, and you listened to the heavy beat of his steady heart to ground yourself back to reality. He let you lay on him for a moment and stroked your hair rather gently, unusual considering how cruel he tended to be.

Haarlep noticed this, eyeing his master with a suspicious gaze. Has the devil gone soft for a mere mortal, and a thieving one no less?

Raphael motioned to dismiss Haarlep with a wave of his hand, not even giving the incubus the dignity of a verbal dismissal.

Haarlep pulled out of you, his seed spilling out of your used hole. A whine hitched in your throat at the motion as you tried to control your breathing. He slipped off of the bed and gave Raphael one last mischievous glance before disappearing in a quick haze of sparkling flames.

Once you were alone with Raphael, his hand reached for your face, lifting your head up to meet your tired eyes. “You did very well, little mouse. You’ve proven time and time again to be far more resilient than I originally gave you credit for.”

Your arms trembled as you lifted yourself off of his chest. All of the doubt and fear you had tucked away when the pleasure rolled in came flooding back. “What’s going to happen to me?”

He smirked at your nervousness. He twirled a strand of hair around his finger while he murmured with his smooth, deep voice, "You will rest in the House of Hope tonight, little thief. And tomorrow, you will be back on the road with your merry band of misfits. I still need the Crown, and how very lucky for you that I still have your contract."

The contract. The very item you were caught stealing. You were still merely a pawn in his overarching game of chess, but he was right.

How lucky for you that your services were still needed.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 haarlep

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bongwaterbunny · 2 months

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i did NOT expect my last halsin post to blow up- i mean seriously i was just horny and posted some thoughts but THANK YOU???

anyways. heres my humble offering in hopes to appease the gods (@strawzumie and @im-eating-rn)!!

cw: facesitting, pussydrunk halsin, fem!tav, d/s dynamic, overstimulation, lmk if i missed any lol ive been foaming at the mouth over this little thought

halsin has ALWAYS been a service dom. like he doesnt even THINK about cumming until you've already finished all over his fingers or his tongue, maybe even multiple times! he just loves the sweet little noise you make when you're overstimulated. he loves the squeals and whines that leave your lips, how you mutter his name under your breath? nothing sounds better to him.

"keep singing like that and you'll make the birds jealous, my heart" but how can he expect you to be quiet when he wont even let you hide your face?? insisting he needs to see that look in your eye when you cum AGAIN, swatting your quivering hands away when you tug a pillow up to your mouth, the man is so mean sometimes! cant he see how flustered you are?

god he loves the taste of you too. he's perfectly happy to eat you out until the sun comes out again, until you're crying so loudly that the entire camp can hear just how beautiful you sound with his lips flush against your cunt, nose nudging your puffy little clit every time you squirm!

and when i say facesitting i mean faceSITTING. you barely even have the chance to hear his throaty chuckle when you hover over his face until his hands snake around your thighs, pushing you down with such force youre worried that he cant breathe! i mean, the way his eyes glaze over and you can notice them cross doesnt really help soothe your worries either, but its not like you can get out of his tight grip, can you?

"so sweet.. heavens above, you're sweeter than honey" he mumbles against your throbbing core, his words muffled and the way his lips move only serve to send tremors of pleasure shooting up your spine. his tongue is practically scooping your wetness into his waiting mouth as it gushes out of you! and god, the way you whimper and grind your hips forward once you finally get over your fear of smothering him? you just earned yourself two more orgasms right there on his face! good luck getting his head out from between your thighs tonight <3

#halsin smut #halsin x tav #daddy halsin #halsin x reader #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin #halsin silverbough

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familyagrestefanblog · 7 months

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Hey, Hero Gabe, I don't wanna steal your heroic thunder here but even as a good person ur a failure of a father, I hope you know that

Adrien couldnt be any more suicidal and self-harming, how BADLY did you abandon that boy??

ALSO

Hero Gabe, my man, light of my life

Would you kindly explain to me why your intro still shows Emilie dying from using the Peacock Miraculous, basically telling us that Sadrien is more likely than not a Sentihuman too and YOU ARE still wearing his amok object!!!

And you straight up HARSHLY excluding and abandoning your son in all of this (keeping his entire hero work secret from him), who is looking to YOU.

The dynamic here is depicted clear as day, the unreachable one is still GABRIEL. Not the other way around. Gabriel is still horribly failing Adrien and the special isn't exactly hiding it.

While, if I understood this right I'm not fluent in french, Alt Adrien never attented school? But Alt Marinette knows him so he's still a celebrity child for his father's brand. Also, Adrien for some messed up reason ist still being held up to the standard of perfection (or he holds himself to it) as one of Griffe Noire's comments clarified.

So in fact, nothing is different at the core of this mess? Its still all Gabriel's fault, he even stole the Miraculous from the Supreme (seemingly both the Butterfly and Peacock) paralleling how our Gabriel found the exact same Miraculous too.

So yeah, Hero Gabe,

Please explain yourself, Mister Hero Man!

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ml paris spoilers #keeping up with the agrestes #Some things never change #And that's Gabriel being a horrifying failure of a father

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cemeterything · 28 days

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PLEASE elaborate on “davidelizabeth in alien covenant if i wrote it” they squandered her potential so bad !

okay so first all i have already talked about how i feel that covenant should have built on the sticky psychosexual gothic horror tension between david and shaw and developed it into a toxic codependent dynamic (that predictably ends poorly due to their fundamentally opposing ideological stances as well as one-sided obsession on david's side), so i'm going to attach that rather than rehash it.

but honestly if i'd written covenant i would have had elizabeth survive david long enough to establish herself on the engineer planet in hiding from him (following a "breakup" caused by his act of genocide), and have the arrival of the colonists in covenant be the catalyst that forces them to confront each other again and finish what they started. i'm not entirely certain of the specifics, but i think there's a lot you could do with the central themes of alien as a cosmic/existential horror (a story about horrifying revelations, terrible change and progress/evolution that is unrecognisable as anything but nightmarish to the human minds bearing witness), a body horror narrative focused on sexual assault, pregnancy and childbirth/parenthood, and an examination of extraterrestrial horror as this colonial mindset - the fear of being violently replaced by something that deems itself better than you and works ruthlessly to eradicate you from your places of safety which it has taken for its own - as well as the more prometheus-specific themes of parental trauma and religion (mostly christianity) by making the core conflict between david and his xenomorphs and elizabeth and humanity, like a sort of fucked up retelling of adam and eve in the garden of eden.

to tie up loose ends, since prometheus and covenant are meant to be prequels to the original alien films, i'd probably have elizabeth succeed in being the final girl (a parallel to ripley in the original franchise) but tragically go into self-imposed exile/die alone in an attempt to prevent the xenomorphs from being stumbled across by future explorers and becoming a threat again, as well as possibly out of some warped sense of guilt, both for having allowed herself to ever love david and believe him capable of change, and for failing to save him ("save" very much in the biblical sense, as in persuade him to share her point of view and abandon his descent down a dark path). needless to say, she doesn't succeed, making her "victory" all the more phyrric.

#elizabeth x david #im so fucking crazy about them

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sykosugu · 2 months

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one, two, three; eyes on me | satoru gojo

summary: husband! Satoru is tired of your bratty antics after he had to search the entire city for you all day. poor you only craved attention. but do you get more than you bargained for? (cue fall out boy music here)

pairing: husband!satoru x wife!reader

cw: established relationship, smut, daddy kink, slight degradation, impact play, p in v sex, anal play, dom/sub dynamics, brief size kink, some manhandling (again if I missed anything pls let me know)

carlile speaks: hi everyone! so this was originally written for satoru, but I was only posting h. styles fics at the time so I altered it to be for him. but this is it in its original glory. I hope you all enjoy!

“Kneel,” The tone of his voice makes your core throb as you make your way to the floor. A sense of guilt washing over you for being so turned on by a single word; a single command. You know he’ll chastise you for it once he notices. “Hands,” you reach your hands behind your back before they’re placed in the leather cuffs you’ve grown accustomed to. He pulls them snug before dropping your arms to rest against your back as he pushes you to lean over the bed. “Spread em’,” his knee comes between your legs as you slide your knees across the floor as far as they’ll allow before he attaches your ankles to the spreader bar. Your eyes are screwed shut as you hear him fumbling through the box behind you. “Do you know why you’re in this position right now?” your husband asks, voice lacking the softness he usually reserved for you.

You nod in response, a whimper leaves your lips as his favorite leather belt comes in contact with the flesh of your ass, sending you forward. “Words,” he reminds you. “You know better.”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice muffled by the fluffy comforter of your bed.

The sound of the belt making contact with your ass again is deafening; the feeling makes you whine. “Yes, what?” he chastises.

“Y-yes, d-daddy,” you choke out.

“You were a bad girl today, weren’t you?” Satoru asks, rubbing the smooth leather of the belt over the red marks littering your cheeks before he raises the belt once more, cracking it against your tender skin.

“Yes, daddy.” you repeat, a slight grin forming on your lips. You knew all along. This is exactly what you wanted; to be completely at his mercy while he did whatever he wanted. He turns back to the box, taking his time deciding what to grab next. Settling on the blue gemmed butt plug he’d picked up for you a few weeks ago. He toys with it between his fingers before he takes a stand behind you before dropping to his knees to be eye level with your core.

“Now, you’re gonna take whatever Daddy gives you right, Angel?” He asks, rubbing the plug up and down your slit to gather some of your arousal.

“Mhm, whatever Daddy wants.” You whimper into the mattress.

“That’s right, whatever Daddy wants. Now, breathe, brat.” He commands as he begins to slowly push the plug into your tighter hole, toying with you before he lets it finally slide into place and he gives it a tap, making you whimper. The stretch is almost mind numbing but you absolutely love it. “We’ll start with twenty. Count,” he says as he begins his assault on your cheeks. One. Two. Three. The sting is almost unbearable, but it turns into pleasure so quickly. Four. Five. Six. Your brain is almost turned to complete mush. Seven. Eight. Nine. Each blow stings a little more than the last; but that just makes the pleasure all the more better. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

“Thirteen,” you moan out, writhing as much as your stretched out legs will allow you.

“I think you’re enjoying this, look at how much you’re dripping.” Satoru mocks from behind you, dipping one of his fingers inside your hole, making you mewl, and push your hips back towards his hand. “I didn’t say you could move,” he sneers, withdrawing his hand and bringing the belt down again, making you jolt forward back into your rightful spot. Smack after smack, blow after blow.

“Twenty,” the feeling of the plug constantly being forced forward from the movement of your hips with each blow of the belt almost has you bursting at the seams. The belt hits the floor. Your breathing is labored and tears are staining your cheeks as his hands rub soothing circles over the reddened flesh of your ass. Your husband's hand snakes up the middle of your back before grabbing a fist full of your hair and forcing you to look in front of you at the full-length mirror that he has pulled from the corner of the room; But your eyes are still screwed shut.

“One, two, three; eyes on me,” he says in a sing-songy voice. “Want you to watch as daddy absolutely ruins his perfect pussy.” His other hand smooths down the length of your back to toy with the plug in your ass, pushing and pulling on the gem; pulling moan after moan from you. Your eyes snap open and you meet his gaze in the mirror. “There she is,” he coos, “Daddys’ bad girl.”

“Wan’ be your good girl,” you whine, “Wan’ be daddys’ good girl.” you’re wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.

“You should have thought about that before you acted the way you did today,” He says, “You’re going to watch me use your little hole to get myself off, we’re going to shower and then you’re going to bed.” He’s lining himself up with your entrance and about to start pushing in when you–

–“No! That’s not.. That’s not fair!” you protest. You wanted him to be rough with you, not to deny you. He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you up against his front.

“What’s not fair, is me not knowing where you were for six hours today because you thought you were being cute by turning your location off.” He spits, “You’re lucky you’re getting this much out of me after today.” He says tossing you back down onto the bed.

“Please, daddy. I’ll do anything.” You beg, looking at him with pleading eyes in the mirror.

“No, now take your punishment like a big girl.” He says before pushing in inch by inch, making your mouth form that little “O” that he loves so much. “S-shit, Angel. Such a tight little pussy.” He groans. One hand finds your hip as he starts the push and pull, and the other winds in your hair again. “Ah ah ah, eyes open,” he warns when your eyes start to flutter shut, making you snap your eyes open to meet his gaze in the mirror again.

Mutters of “daddy, daddy, daddy,” leave your lips with every thrust of his hips. The feeling of his cock rubbing against every sweet spot mixed with the angle of having him bump up with the plug in your ass has your head in the clouds. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so on fire in your life. “So good, daddy.. please.” you whine, “please, please, please.. I’m so close daddy, please!” Your pleas have him switching his hold and forcing the side of your face into the comforter beneath you.

“No, you better hold it.” He warns from above you, his hips still pistoning into you, forcing the plug to grind even further into your ass.

“C-can’t, daddy. Can’t do it!” You say as your body betrays you. Flashes of white lightning litter your vision as your entire body heats up in red hot pleasure. “Oh n-no, daddy, i’m sor–” you’re cut off by being torn from your spot and flipped over onto your back, bound hands still behind you. Soft fingertips make harsh contact with your left cheek, making you gasp.

“I thought I told you to hold it,” he scolds you, taking hold of your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks.

“I-I tried, daddy, I promise I tried,” you whimper beneath him, “I’m sorry, daddy, I’m sorry,” your lip wobbles as fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks. He narrows his eyes at you.

“Mm,” is all he says in response. He doesn’t put himself back in though. He reaches under you and undoes the leather cuffs and tosses them into the box. He reaches down to free you from the bar before standing again. “Turn over,” He says, tapping your hip with two fingers. You slowly turn over, mostly because of the ache in between your legs and the plug in your ass. He carefully slides his hand down before gripping the edges of the plug between his fingers, “Breathe,” he reminds you as he slowly retrieves the toy, making you whine at the empty feeling. “In the shower you go,” he says with a light tap to your right buttcheek.

“B-but what abo–” you start to argue.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, tone firm as he gathers everything he’s used tonight before walking into the bathroom and setting the toys in the sink. “C’mon,” He’s holding his hand out to you after he walks back into the bedroom and notices you’re still laying in the same spot. “Listen for once today, please.” He’s pleading with you now. You stand and place your hand in his and he guides you into the shower with him.

You’re standing as far away from him as possible inside the shower as he turns the water on. Your arms are wrapped around your chest; as you suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed that you were unable to keep it together. Tears begin to burn in your eyes as you watch him. You feel horrible. All day all you wanted was his attention, but you went about it in all the wrong ways. You’d really pushed him too far this time. He’s never been this level of upset with you to end a scene before it was actually over, or before a safeword was called. After he’s got the water to the temperature he knows you’ll like, he turns to you and takes in your appearance.

“C’mon. No need to cry.” He says, pulling you to his front, but you’re not budging. Your arms remain tightly wrapped around you.

‘M sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to,” you sniffle.

“Didn’t mean to cum or didn’t mean to act like such a brat all day?” he asks, taking hold of your arms to wrap them around himself.

“I-I just wanted y-your attention,” you whine, “I’ve just m-missed you s’all.”

He breathes a shaky breath through his nose. “There are other ways of getting my attention that don’t involve me scouring the entire city for you because you decided to turn your location off, not be where you were supposed to be, and ignore all of my phone calls.” He states, “Do you know how worried I’ve been all day?” Tears are in his eyes now. “Do you know what I would have done if something had actually happened to you?” his demeanor is cracking, “I would have lost everything,” is the last thing he says before the tears flow over, he can’t stop them.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” you cry to him, pulling him into your embrace as you guide him to the floor of the shower. You’re settled on your knees on either side of his legs, holding his head against your chest as his arms are pulled so tightly around you; like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” You’re cradling his face as he just lets the tears fall from his eyes. He’s had to keep up his strong bravado all day, but he can’t seem to do it anymore. He feels terrible inside for making you feel like you had to cause a scene in order to get him to pay attention to you, but the level of extreme you went to today had his head in a spiral. He didn’t know what to do. Being held by you now, his mind begins to ease.

“Please, never do that again,” He pleads with you. “Never do that to me again,” his forehead comes to rest on yours.

“I-I won’t. I promise, daddy. I promise.” Your hands take hold of either side of his face as the words leave you but he shakes his head.

“No, baby. I don’t want to be daddy right now. Want to be Satoru; Want to be your husband.” His hands finding a soft grip on your wrists, his eyes searching yours; pleading with you to come back to him. The longing in his eyes snap you out of it.

“Okay, Satoru,” you nod. “I’m here, baby,” your hands moving to grasp at the nape of his neck, angling his face towards yours as you place soft kisses all over.

“Can’t lose you, baby,” he whines, “Not ever,” his hands begin exploring the expanse of your water slicked skin; easily gliding along the surface of all his favorite spots before they stop on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

“I’m right here,” you soothe, “Not leaving you, Toru,” you press a kiss to his lips, “Never,” you whisper against them before you pull away to look at his face.

“Gotta feel you, baby,” he rushes out, “C-can I, please?” his tone leaning on the side of desperate; hands moving to the plump flesh of your ass as his fingertips dig into the still sore skin, making you slightly wince. “Need to feel my wife," your head spins at the reminder that this man is in fact your husband. He knows you love it.

“Okay, y-yeah,” you breathe out, “Whatever you want, baby,” lifting yourself up on your knees before he stops you.

“No,” he says, “Want you to want it too,” he reaches up with one hand to lean your gaze down to be level with his.

“Always want you, Satoru,” you tell him before covering his lips with yours. His hands return to your hips as he guides you further up on your knees, before he reaches down to line himself up with your pulsing hole, and guiding you back down his length. “G-god,” you whine, “s-so big, Toru.” The stretch has you feeling delirious; a delicious sting you’ve been in love with for many years now.

“Yeah?” he grins, “My little wife can take it, though,” he says, pulling you flush against him, letting you get adjusted before you begin to bounce on his cock. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. His face is tucked into your neck, whispering sweet praises of adoration, against the skin of your throat in between the open mouthed kisses he laid on the surface. The delicious sting of his cock rubbing against every nook and cranny inside of you; he sets your skin ablaze without even trying. But something switches in your mind. You want to make him feel good; you want to make it up to him for making him worry so much all day just because you wanted some attention.

“Oh–haah, fuck–Satoru,” you whimper, snaking your hand up to the front of his throat and grasping with a light hold.

“Oh?” He inquires, lighting flashes in his eyes as he searches yours, “Does my wife want to take control?” He’s teasing you, a sly grin evident on his face, “Do you really think you can handle that?”

“Uhuh,” you confirm, “Know I can,” you say, speeding up the movements of your hips.

“Prove it then, baby.”

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kaidatheghostdragon · 2 months

Text

That trope where danny and jason meet during jason's six months dead? That, but with good fenton parents.

Jason is either the same age or a year or two younger than danny (between danny'and ellie's age). The fentons know danny is a ghost and have already adopted ellie. Team phantom includes the entire fenton family and valerie (and obv sam and tucker), maybe even valerie's dad.

Vlad is either reformed (post agit with teen dan?), blackmailed into submission, ran out of town, or "dealt with." The giw have been run out of town, and may or may not still exist somewhere licking their wounds. Peaceful ghosts are openly welcomed in the town, which is phantom's haunt, the fentons plus red huntress deal with the troublemakers, and the phantom siblings handle the biggest threats. May or may not be an everyone knows au.

Anyways, danny runs into the ghost of robin and is all, holy shit, a teen vigilante died, and immediately drags robin home to get all the overbearing comfort and love the fenton family can provide.

Somehow, that transformed into the fentons adopting the ghost of robin as one of their own. Jason even starts going to caspar high. Everyone knows that jason is a ghost of a kid who died too young and may be considered an honorary phantom, only team phantom knows that he's robin, and may have learned a concerning amount about batman from jason, depending on how open he is.

The joker disappears a month after jason joins the fentons and the fenton parents have solid alibis to prove they werent involved (having access to phantom's ghost allies is a large boon).

After six months of living (excuse the term) with the fentons, its as if jason has always been part of the family. So his sudden disappearance is a shock. Its treated as a ghostnapping, and the fentons are quick to use the boomerang to track him down.

They find a near-catatonic, but very much living, jason either wandering gotham, or just as he's being carted off by talia. If the latter, wrecking the league of assassins probably becomes an entire team phantom affair.

Jason is brought back home, and between the fentons and frostbite, they find a way to treat jason, learning that his living body is developing into a halfa in a similar slow manner that vlad did, but with jason's ghost core already fully developed.

That's four different halfas created in four different ways (five for five if teen dan exists), plus the increasingly liminal population of amity park, and the human members of team phantom so strongly liminal that they all have protocores and will probably become halfas when they die.

At this point, the story can go multiple directions.

If the fentons wrecked the league of assassins, either they discovered damian or talia dropped him off with bruce a few years early, when tim is just starting out as robin. If the fentons have damian, serious discussions about informing bruce of his biokid ensue, and the fact that theyve also adopted his undead son will inevitably come up and whether jason wants to deal with that mess of emotions.

If damian is dropped off with bruce, bruce is gonna hear stories of an orange man that can bust through walls, his teal assassin wife, their fiery daughter, and pair/trio of loyal white haired pit demons (assuming jason's ghost is white haired, and whether or not he's well enough to join), that wrecked ra's shit and sealed away the pits. He *will* investigate. Also, damian and tim will probably have to be kept separated, probably by having tim patrol with dick while bruce wrangles the feral child. This is smack dab in the middle of the worst period of the batfams social dynamics, but otoh, damian being younger will ultimately be better for him as he'll probably be deprogrammed a lot easier.

If the fentons never cross paths with the loa, another avenue is still open with the giw. If they've been run out of amity, but the anti ecto acts still exist, the justice league still have a chance to encounter them. Perhaps after amity ran the giw out, a formal complaint was filed to the justice league (they finally broke through the giw's blackout), but it was labelled a non-emergency (because the complaint described how the town couldnt get the message out until *after* they dealt with the problem) and was never investigated for being labelled a low priority. Baby robin tim found the file while exploring the bat computer and asked bruce about it, kicking off an investigation.

On the flipside, the giw try to convince the justice league that hostile entities have taken control of a small midwestern city, maybe the league is convinced right up until batman comes face to face with jason and is willing to hear him out.

If none of the above, jason could start talking about how he wants to return home to help crime alley, and the fentons support him all the way. You could even have jason still become red hood the crime lord, minus the family drama and joker ultimatum, and the training he would have gotten from the league is covered by ghost hunting, halfa powers, and the fenton parents' ecclectic skillset. Cue gotham being slowly invaded by team phantom as each child in turn goes to gotham U for college to be near and support jason.

Or jason is perfectly happy to stay in amity forever, but jazz goes to gotham U for its psychology program. She tries to keep her head low, but batman at this point runs a background check on every psychology major in gotham U (maybe bruce wayne funded a reform of the program - the reason why its now lauded as one of the best in the nation - to try to prevent more rogues being created.) Jazz pings a few warning criteria because her parents match a handful of mad scientist traits, so batman is now doing a full investigation on her family and finds a picture of jason.

Ignoring all of that, maybe jason keeps tabs on batman and is extremely upset that he's taken on another robin after the last one died. He's emotionally stable enough, and the fentons emotionally competent enough, to get him to talk and work through his emotions, but everyone agrees a wellness check for the new robin is in order. They go to gotham and confront batman, realize he's an emotional mess and that tim forced his way into the role and decide that the bats are all fentons now, no batman, you cannot escape. Assimilation is inevitable. We *will* get you to work through your grief and make you a better vigilante because of it. And tim has been abandoned by his parents and is living alone? That wont do. We're going to assume for your benefit that you were too grief-stricken to notice bruce, but you will not be making any more oversights like that under our watch.

There are probably a dozen other directions this could go, but mostly i just wanted to provide some prompts/ideas with ghost/halfa jason as a fenton. I need more fluffy fenton dynamics and jason fluff.

#dpxdc #dp x dc

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claymorexpunisher · 6 months

Text

Brats Have More Fun (CH. 3/?) (18+ Fic)

Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately, so if you choose to click on my work regardless, use your own discretion. Thank you for the love always and enjoy this cheesy porno! 🥂

Pairing(s): Randy Orton/Fem. Reader

Summary: Bratty Reader pokes fun at Randy for referring to himself as "Daddy" on tv. Randy quickly reminds her why he felt confident in doing so.

Tag(s): 18+, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, primal kink, biting, wrestling, scratching, spanking, sadism/masochism, Daddy kink, Dom/sub dynamic, bratting.

Word Count: 882

Prev. Chapter

“Why would you call yourself Daddy in front of the entire world like that?” I asked Randy, my tone teasing despite the fact that I was eyeing him with poorly concealed desire as I straddled his lap and we began to wrestle on the padded mat.

We had decided to work out at home rather than go to the gym, but eventually we got distracted by, well, each other.

“Are you kinkshaming me?” Randy asked, barely winded as we wriggled around on the ground, something akin to amusement colored his tone as he immediately took control and flipped us over.

I didn’t go down easy, using all of my strength to switch our positions again, but to no avail.

Still, I persisted, letting out frustrated huffs as I willed my core to help me push him off.

“I would never, Randy.” I replied, pointedly not calling him Daddy despite knowing that that was how I should address him when we were in private.

As I saw something shift in his expression, I let out a winded and devilish giggle.

“What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong, Randy?” I asked, my chest heaving as I smirked up at him, our movements now slowing to a halt.

This is usually the moment where I’d be running.

Running from whatever punishment would be in store for me for such a smartassed move,and with Randy’s heavy frame straddling my hips, there was seemingly nowhere to go.

I knew he wanted me to run as I felt his body loosen a bit, giving me the opportunity to actually use my strength and push him off as I finally made a run for it.

“Too slow, Randy!” I taunted, making the mistake of pausing before I made a run for it again.

I let out a squeak as Randy’s strong arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me back into our weight room.

Just as quickly as I had run from him, I was plopped back onto the mat flat on my back.

Wrestling around definitely got our adrenaline pumping and the more we wriggled around, trying to assert our positions, the more aroused we became.

I couldn’t help but roll my hips against Randy’s, moaning softly as my thin leggings allowed me to feel a zing against my clit as it grazed his hardening cock.

My movements were quickly halted and my body and brain turned into mush as Randy’s hand suddenly wrapped around my throat and I heard him growl from deep within his chest before he sank his teeth onto the part of my body where my neck meets my shoulder.

Despite me wanting to put up more of a fight, the sharp sensation of Randy’s teeth sinking into such a vulnerable and sensitive part of my body caused me to immediately go pliant underneath him.

Breathing heavily, our lips met in a sloppy and hungry kiss, Randy’s hand never easing its firm grip on my throat.

“Are you fuckin’ done, you little brat?” Randy murmured, watching my eyelids flutter shut for a moment before my bright, glassy eyes met his. “Hm? Are you ready to stop acting up? Are you gonna address Daddy like you should?”

“Huh?” He taunted as he used his free hand to yank my sports bra up to tweak one of my nipples hard, making my back arch off the mat, my hands obediently resting at my sides even as Randy’s lips closed around one of my sensitive nipples, sharply biting the tender bud before he took it into his mouth again and released it with a soft pop.

“Y-yes, Daddy…” I relented, and I smiled upon hearing him release a pleased chuckle.

The smile gave way to a soft hiss as Randy dragged his blunt nails down my torso, adding to the already intense sensations coursing through my body.

“Are you sure?” Randy purred and I damn near mewled as I felt him release his cock from his sweatpants and he ran the leaking tip along my swollen pussy lips over my leggings.

“Yes, Daddy.” I replied, injecting all of my arousal into my response.

Going off of the primal need surging within us, Randy flipped me over onto my stomach and I instantly lifted my hips so he could remove my leggings.

My hips stayed where they were, elevated and presenting myself to Randy and I let out soft whimpers as he ran his big hands over my thighs and up my body and back again.

My legs shook as I resisted against grinding back into his cock and I could feel my essence making his sudden entrance a smooth one that had us both moaning loudly.

“You can fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock if you promise to be good..” Randy said and I didn’t have to be told twice.

“I promise! Please, I can’t-” I whined.

“Okay, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Show Daddy how much you want it.” He coaxed.

I gasped as Randy’s palms struck down on my ass cheeks as I fucked back eagerly.

The noises that were coming out of our mouths were unrecognizable and I came with a harsh groan as Randy’s teeth once again sunk into my flesh, this time between my shoulder blade.

Daddy was definitely home…

Next Chapter

#randy orton #randy orton x reader #randy orton x female reader #wwe smut #wrestling smut #wwe fanfic #forgive me if this is subpar #its literally been about a year since ive written for randy lmao #randy orton fanfiction #randy orton fan fiction #wwe one shot #randy orton oneshot

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ashersanity · 6 days

Note

more sister fucking king🙏

— “TONGUE TIED LIES.”

— summary. it’s only natural to. at least, that’s what you insistently keep reminding yourself of to convince your ever growing guilt lurking deep within the shadows that is your mind — that this is fine. completely fine. is it not?

— content warning! full on incest, non-con? dub-con? it varies really, piss. yeah, you heard me, baby sister pussy pissing all over reader’s cock cuz’ it’s just fun, y’know? cream pie, mentions of.. breeding? toxic sibling dynamic, manipulation and past abuse implied, shit writing, mean, big brother reader who’s a borderline yandere and little sister penny.

— word count? just a short drabble, really. might’ve gotten carried away on certain parts.

— asher’s note : “know this isn’t exactly what you asked for probably, anon.. but, I had to. I fucking had to when the opportunity was right there. still hope this is to your enjoyment though even if I might have accidentally inflicted you all to my piss + humiliation kink combo.”

Kind, dependable and charitable. Those were the various terms the homely town of Pelican would proudly refer to you as. The sort of boy they could wholeheartedly count on regardless of the variable situations at hand. The one to follow suit when given a manual task like lifting the numerous, heavy bottles of milk shakily knocking against one another in the narrow, wooden container. That welcoming neighbour that’d shoot familiar smiles their way to whoever; the one envious mothers would openly compare their rebellious sons to whenever they caught sight of you down the street. Hell, even the local shut-in, Sebastian, known for his relatively indifferent attitude would greet you with the occasional nod whenever you two consequentially crossed paths by chance.

A friend of all. Charming boy you were, that’s precisely what the entirety of the town-folks knew you for. Repetitively expressing their endless gratitude towards you and namely, your younger sister Penny that’d simply nod along in agreement with that recognizable, sweet smile plastered onto her rosy face. After all, who couldn’t possibly believe so when you proved them wrong time and time again? Everyone did. Not a single one had managed to slip past the thinly veiled mask of deceit you had carefully put on for all to see, figured that automatic smile of yours was merely a sham to conceal your actual, truthful nature simmering deep within your core.

Yeah. Well, for that statement— That wasn’t entirely the case. Someone had indeed wormed their way through.

Oh, sweet little Penny. Always a hitch in your plan, isn’t she? Discreetly sneaking where she wasn’t supposed to, thus leading to this unfortunate predicament solely placed upon her foolish little self. Only has herself to blame for this, doesn’t she? Not like she didn’t plainly ask for it either, those provoking sniffles of hers paired with the glistening tears freshly rolling down the length of her scarlet cheeks. Any man would’ve done the same in your position, in your dutiful role as the older, responsible brother here. It’s only natural to. At least, that’s what you insistently keep reminding yourself of to convince your ever growing guilt lurking deep within the shadows that is your mind — that this is fine. Completely fine. Is it not?

Really, you’re not the one at fault here! Look at how pathetic she appears before you right now. Resembling that of a shivering bunny encircled by the protective grasp of your arms tight around her smaller waist, a prey right within the drooling maw of its awaiting predator. Pathetic and oh, so helpless without the ‘well-intentioned’ guarding of her older brother, quivering figure sat atop your comfortable lap. Sibling bonding, you’d happily call it. Yet, if anyone were to catch a glimpse of such a scene, they’d surely know that this isn’t just some regular ‘sibling bonding’ between brother and sister. Fuck, far from it with how her tight little cunt is wrapped so nicely around the veiny girth of your pulsing cock, freely dripping slick onto the fuzzy carpet below.

The same one your shared mother had notably complained about constantly being messy due to the various, wet spots found on it at times. Ah, speaking of — You should probably deal with that recurring issue before she drunkenly barges onto that little sick act of yours and properly disowns you for being caught balls deep in her fucking daughter. That’s a sure fire way to be kicked out of this area, detested by your previously homely neighbours.

An amusing scenario to ponder on nonetheless, you suppose. However, more pressing matters require your undivided attention at the moment, starting off with your younger sister’s stifled whimpers echoing faintly throughout the trailer. Always been such a noisy one, hasn’t she?

“What’s the matter? Not comfy?” It’s more of a rhetorical statement than it is of genuine curiosity, knowing full well by the predictable squirms of her legs raised high that no— it’s sort of difficult to be considered at ease with this position, huh? Poor thing, can’t even muster up a response to utter out in return with how fucked out she stupidly is, cunt merely squeezing back around your leaking cock to signal her ever approaching climax.

And well, wouldn’t you be such a mean big brother if you were to blatantly refuse her of her well-deserved reward as promised? Greedy thrusts accompanied by the firm grasp you have around the flesh of her hips, relishing in the hiccuped moans uselessly spilling out of her needy, little sister mouth. What a dirty bitch, really. Claiming to detest this when her baby sister pussy is clenching so eagerly down your full length, practically begging you to continue on further, to fuck yourself deeper in her wet hole. “P-Please—“ A measly attempt at begging on her part, sneering openly at the way her dainty hands find home to place onto your spread legs — because despite being the one partially responsible for her suffering here, you’re also the only one who she can potentially seek out whenever. The one to find a twisted sense of comfort in the possessive embrace of your arms as long as you remain by her side. That is enough for Penny. It’s dumb, really.

“I-I can’t—“ She sputters out mindlessly, those pretty tits of hers bouncing with every steady roll of your hips, further sending the two of you down the debauched path of depravity between mere siblings. Ah, can you really blame yourself when she’s so fucking warm? Shit—

Knowing exactly what she’s pleading for, yet you prod for a more coherent answer, y’know— just to be fuckin’ mean. “Please what? I can’t hear you if you don’t — hah, speak up for me.” A particular harsh thrust in the warm heat clamping around you so well has you both collectively gasping like a bunch of whores, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your grip remains locked tight on the fat of her thighs. “Fuckin’ cmon, I know you can do better than that, Pen.” Hasn’t she learned how to properly speak through the choked babbles endlessly escaping her? It’s a shame, though it serves as proof that you should be training those lips more often now, stretch her pussy to the hilt till she grows familiar with it, learns how to perfectly take it. Molding her to your preferred likings.

All you’re given in return between the softened whines of feels weird! and too much! is the pitiful expression spread along her delicate features for you to appreciatively gaze at. Oh, is this a vain effort made by your dearest little sister to plead with your cruelty? Nice try, but you’re not such a sensible man to stupidly fall for baseless trickery. At least, you would’ve normally thought so in any other manner, yet you’ve silently decided to relent a tad bit in exchange for her faithful obedience thus far. “What? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” A gentle chuckle drawn forth from your chest has her noticeably relaxing within your grasp, that recognizable, boyish grin you’d present to the other residents peeking its way through. Not the one Penny truthfully knew under that faux layer of kindness, the smirk you’d flash her whenever she found herself alone with only your presence to keep her company. Those helping hands praised for their dexterity, riddled with purplish bruises that’d shamelessly grope at the smooth skin of her legs beneath her flowing skirt at the dinner table. That soft voice known to appease wild animals deep within the forest, sweetly whispering utter filth in the shell of her ear late at night as you hungrily palmed at her breasts.

Yes, all of those she painfully knew. All of you, without the layers and without the theatrics as if you were on stage with the spotlight directed entirely on your frame to catch your every movement in their wake. A wolf in a sheep’s clothing and she was the trembling bunny caught in its claws.

How ironic, really.

Your relationship was evidently far from the norm with its hidden ‘benefits’ as you’d so cheekily call it, muttering about how lucky she should feel to be able to practice with her far more experienced, elder brother — in case she ever does get a boyfriend which will never happen under your watchful guise. An empty reassurance to soothe her reluctant doubts, give her the underlying impression that this is what all siblings do together in the privacy of their own respective homes.

Now is not the time to really think about it though, not with the growing heat in the pit of her stomach, that sudden, awfully familiar sensation forming between the slicked wetness of her plush thighs. “Big— ah, big brother, please— I-I can’t—“ She tries pathetically, tears brimming to stain at her fluttering eyelashes with every shaky inhale to skillfully control her steady intakes of air. “I really, really need to go to the— hmph! bathroom! Please, I promise I won’t do anything funny! W-We can keep hugging after, just let me—“

“What’s that? Can’t you hold just a little bit longer for me, Pen?” Cruel and relentless is how she knew you best.

Ah, of course. Of course, you’d say that — that that’d be your answer to her frantic pleading, a sickening jolt passing through the entirety of her body as you instead draw rhythmic circles on her swollen clit with the pad of your thumb, disarming her concentration not to cum early or whatever disastrous accident may occur out of this. “N-No! I really need to go, it’s urgent!” But is it really? Perhaps the worst in all of this is how you do in fact know what awaits you, very much aware of the consequences at hand if you were to deny her once again. Deprive her of relieving herself, similar to how an owner would strictly train a puppy not to do its business whenever nor wherever. The comparison almost has you grinning snidely at a closer focus of your dynamic, the one who withholds full control here and has the authority to plainly tell her ‘no’. That’d be so mean however. Why do such a thing, huh?

Why? Cuz’ it’s fuckin’ fun, obviously.

Baby sister wants to piss so bad, huh? Well, she’s going to have to patiently wait for you to finish on your end firstly, wait for big brother’s cooed permission to finally ease out the tension subtly straining on her filled bladder. Sob all she wants about it, it’s only till you fucking allow her such privilege — dammit. And honestly? It’s borderline disgusting how appealing you find the mere idea of your younger sister wetting herself all over your fat cock — Throbbing balls earnestly tightening in response as an alarming reminder shot through your spine that you’re about this fucking close to bust a thick load in her eager, awaiting cunt. “Fuck— God, who ever gave you the right to be this tight? You’re so warm— shit, baby—” Maybe even knock her up if you can, make her belly all full and round for y’a, yeah? Would make such a good mommy, that’s for sure — with the way she carefully tends to the children surrounding her, following her every step. A man can wishfully dream as he pleases.

Since it’s your rightful role to, sickeningly defile that lingering innocence your mother sought to shield away from the corrupted world you two miserably have to live in. No need to, really. You’re already doing a thorough job at it, calloused fingertips tenderly digging in the pale complexion of her jaw, directing her tear-stained face towards yours for your parted lips to connect. Pink tongues fervently meeting in a sloppy, messy kiss that’s bound to leave her drooling mouth stuttering. Mixing spit to relish in the breathtaking sight of her glistening lips stained with your sticky saliva, something you can definitely fist your cock to later. What remains the best truly, however, is that fucked out expression she wears so prettily — swollen nipples spilling free from that pristine, yellow shirt you had savagely stripped down to display her milky tits for your hungry gaze to brazenly leer at. “Pretty.” You audibly sigh out, unsure whether she had briefly registered your unintentional compliment or not. Not that it mattered much, utterly focused on having her convulse snugly around the hefty girth of your full length as you teasingly rub at her sensitive clit.

“Told you— hah, I told you that you don’t get to go till you cum.” That warmth building within the depths of her tummy, a tightening coil promising to unleash at the most unfortunate of instants. No, no! If she cums now, she won’t possibly be able to hold herself back in time— The horrific thought far too much to bear for her fragile dignity that somehow remains somewhat intact in the midst of this ruthless fucking. If you keep— ah, fucking into her slicked hole like that, spreading her folds apart to shamelessly gawk in awe at every glide of your weeping cock sheathed inside her warm walls. She’ll really, really finish for real! More than anything, you solely intend to have your baby sister’s tight, little cunt adorably cream around your leaking cock, spill her dumb self all over your balls smacking against her bare backside while she’s at it, huh? That’d just about do it.

And you don’t have to wait much longer to have your desires fulfilled, a soundless squeak tumbling forth from her open mouth and there she goes— involuntarily gushing filthy fluids to stain the already soiled rug below your quivering frames, reeled in by the soft groan that slips past between your lips as she milks your entire length for all it’s worth. Thick ropes of cum shot out of your hot red tip to paint her pink insides with a creamy white, stuff her to the brim. “S-Stop— Too much! I can’t, big brother—“ Uselessly sobbing at the way you merely restrain her flailing legs, deftly lock her in her rightful place which simply happens to be your goddamn lap. Oh no, she’s not going anywhere. Worst of all is the weight of your warm palm pressed flatly against her smooth tummy, practically urging her to ease out her dirty release and— and, she can’t do this! Expecting another wave of accidental squirting, yet all she’s greeted with are golden streams of warm liquid spurting out of her fucked out, wet cunt that soon trickle down the length of her twitching legs. The daunting realization setting in that she’s— pissing herself all over big brother’s cock, in front of your sharp eyes that are sure to endlessly bully her for the oncoming years yet to pass.

It’s downright humiliating! Hiccuped moans silenced by your stunned cuss that she’s actually— she really fucking pissed on you, didn’t she?? No way. Your little Penny wetting herself, not to forget on you too. “Holy shit, did you really just— ahah, fuck— you really pissed all over yourself!” You gasp out momentarily only to snicker openly at the mess she’s created. The demeaning pitch of your laughter has her wanting nothing more than to wordlessly bury the burning heat visibly red across her cheeks in the comforting escape of her palms, avoid the look that she’ll surely have no choice but to eventually gaze at.

Aw, little sister Penny is humiliated, is that it? No need to be. If anything you might’ve accidentally developed a new twisted kink along the process of this, thanks to her. Willing to let this one silently slide by just this once, gently cooing down at her in the same manner you did as young kids whenever she tripped over her own carefully made steps, bruising her wobbly knees and sobbing so cutely for her big brother to comfort her. Hm, yeah. You had forgotten about that one sealed shut memory scattered across your hazy mind, shushing her overflowing tears. “Shh, cmon. It’s not that bad, is it?” Sort of might be to her, but you don’t seem to mind so in the slightest by the lazy roll of your hips, reluctantly slipping out of her sore cunt to shift her into a different position after. Wanna see the whole thing close by this time, adore every inch of her skin whether stained with the essence of her mess or not — since in the end, it’ll all be the same. Yours truly, to sinfully mark.

“Who else will get to stay with you after all of that anyway? See, Penny? I’m the only one — hah, the only one who gets to see you like this, alright?” Muttering out such sweet platitudes all the while sparing yourself a subtle glance in the nearby clock’s direction, lips curling up in satisfaction to the revealed confirmation. “So, there’s no really need to cry..”

Ah, sun is barely setting, huh. Looks like you have more time to spare than you originally thought. All the more better though, serves you as an excuse to spend a bit more quality time with your baby sister, right? More bonding.

Lucky for her, you’ll be putting those extra hours to good use.

“Looks like mom isn’t coming back home till later and I’ve gotta admit, I still have another one left in me.” You start off in an uncharacteristically tender tone, soothingly rubbing small circles over the flesh of her hips that draws another full body shiver from her. “What’d y’a say, huh? Hah, though you look a little spent out yourself, Pen. But, we’ll make do, won’t we?”

That’s right, you always do.

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satocidal · 9 months

Note

hi I hope you’ve been doing well <3 could you possibly write Gojo making female reader! cry during s^x and her using her safeword? basically the aftermath of that as well. tysm 🫶🫶

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“Careful There!” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis:- You should’ve known better than to tease him—I mean, I don’t blame you but I don’t blame him either; so now you’re all tied up for him, and his pleasure alone. He’ll push you right over the edge—slowly, but just as carefully, he’ll bring you back too.

— word count: 2.6k

— An: Heavily, like heavily inspired from this thing I heard once💀 I mean, yk. I can’t even find it now but like core memory lmao. And also because mean Gojo is an all time favourite of mine so- sorry not sorry. Hope you like it Anon baby<3 also like it’s very stretched out and the build up is sort of a lot? The main shit is at the end so lol💀

— Tw: !MDNI!AFAB!Reader; Porn without much plot; degradation (reader gets called whore, slut, etc); implied sub-dom dynamic; impact play (like three(?) pussy slaps; spanking); hair pulling; praise; use of safe-word; Mean Gojo+ Soft Gojo; mentions of filming/pornography; mentions of Nanami; All characters are of age; use of sex toys; crying (reader cries; use age of “sir” when referring to gojo; feminine nicknames used.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you knew it everytime and yet no amount of warnings would ever be enough for you to learn- would it?

That’s how he saw it, he loved it, oh Satoru loved it oh, so much, perhaps beyond compare, when you went out of your way to tease him —but sometimes, just sometimes you got out of hands. That gentle teasing wasn’t gentle— the dirty little whispers were all too loud, the back talk was entirely rude and his reputation was often ruined.

Satoru barely cared though, most of the time, he didn’t at all for you were all that mattered to him and he, to you.

But there’s only so much a man of his temperament can take, only so much even the strongest can endure—especially if you go out, a smirk plastered on your face as you wear the smallest- skimpiest piece of clothing in your closet—the one he bought for you and then ignore him all day while you chatted away with his colleagues—With Nanami.

Arms pressed together in front of you, you bent a little too well—cleavage so deliciously evident, Satoru watched you then, an amused smirk adoring his lips—you continued making aimless conversation with the younger blonde, loving just the effect you had on him—loving just how uneasy you were able to make him with a small pout of your glossed lips and movement just to inch closer to him.

He watched still as you bounced away to seat yourself next to Kento during lunch, fingers playing with your hair as you batted your eyes at him—Satoru only watched.

He wouldn’t ever be described as a jealous man, after all, but cruel? That could find its way a couple of times.

So, He watched still as you got on your tip toes to kiss Kento’s cheek to greet him good-bye and he watched as you winked at random strangers in the street, aware all too well that with Satoru looking beside you, not a single soul would even dare to walk your way.

But then he watched still as you whimpered, his fingers grasping your hips a little too roughly- a bruise sure to be found the next morning while he lead you through the street to his house—he watched pleasantly still as your face contorted, another whimper ready to befall your mouth as he pushed you onto the couch.

“Bend,” his voice, a command and you knew everything that was coming.

There is a time for everything and you had gained experience enough to realise that being a brat was not the perfect time when Satoru lost his smile around you—and yet, a brat remains a brat.

You grinned and you raise a brow—“No,” your lips spelled out—and that was quite literally all it took before his massive form towered on you, eyes a tad bit darker than the usual.

His brows raised now— “We can do it my way or your way,” his voice was stable, “just know that neither is going to be easy for you.”

A lip bite, eyes averted- he watched patiently as he’d done all day—and a moment later you found yourself bending over the arm rest.

“The silly brain of yours is actually working Hm?” It was rhetoric, but obvious and yet you had fought each urge of yours to mutter a “more capable than yours.”

The issue lay with the fact that you fought and fought and lost, finally muttering it a second later with a grin on your face—Satoru loved it.

No words escaped him this time, rough hands working fast to push your head deep into the couch, raising your hips to get better access—spreading your legs to shame you a little too much.

“Tell me,” he mused, smirk all too evident, “if I inspect your pussy right now—will i find it wet?”

You had also learnt over the years of dating him that there was no right answer to this question—not even silence.

“No,” you lied instantly, curious to where that would lead you—he hummed, fingers just then prodding deep at your panties—soaked.

Squelch!- the room was so quiet, the sound so prominent, Satoru couldn’t help but smile wide—“Let me rephrase, how soaked would it be?”

Your face burned at that instant, eyes shying away to even look up at his shadow—“He got you wet doll?” His voice deep- fingers teasing your entrance through the material of your wet panties, “You’re so easy as to get this wet by him? And he didn’t even reciprocate your advances baby,” his words were mean, fingers meaner in the way they avoided your clit- in the way they avoided touching you just how you wanted.

“It’s not fair is it?” You could feel him squat down—face right at your panty-clad pussy, breath hot, teasing—“you tried so hard, he probably wanted to fuck you there on the table when you bounced your tits for him—” his other hand just then grasped your thigh, spreading you all the more for him—“but yaknow’,” his fingers landed a quick slap on your cunt—“I’m generous right? Maybe I should film you tonight yeah? Make the prettiest little videos and share it to him—oh, why just him? I could show my pretty whore around to everyone,”—another slap—“That’s what she likes right?”

He couldn’t see you, sure, but he knew you all too well, he knew your teeth were clamping down hard on your lips, your tight little hole clenching and moans begging to be let out.

You heard him hum again, “I don’t think you can take me tonight doll,” your eyes widened—“Toru’ please!” Another slap—sharper.

You let out a groan—“I’m sorry sir,” you instantly mumbled, “Please please please, I can take you, gonna take you so well—wanna be your-”

“-Fuck toy?” He interrupted your rambling, “Wanna be my plaything? My pet?”

You nodded immediately, then and there—any and every ounce of shame having left already—“Beg,” he got up from behind you—walking painfully slow as he admired the view of your upturned ass—“Beg just like I’ve taught my pretty slut.”

And that was your cue, body lifting off the arm rest, not even daring to pull down that tight fabric of your skirt to compose yourself—just falling on your knees instantly—Satoru manspreads all the time, an invitation to do the obvious—but you just find it 10 times hotter when he’s mad at you.

You crawled in between his legs—hands reaching up to undo his pant—to beg properly—your fingers fumbled around the button when—“Did i say you could do that?” His voice was sharp, condescending.

Your eyes widened, hands retracing their path immediately—“Sorry sir,” you muttered under your breath—he sighed.

“You’re never gonna learn, are you? Never gonna realise your place Hm?” He leaned towards you, fingers gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together—“Whores are dumb right? You’re a dumb whore right?” You couldn’t help but nod helplessly, eyes boring into him.

He chuckled at that, faux—“Do it, like I’ve taught you to,” every word was punctuated by his foot judging your thighs, “Yes sir,” your whimpered.

And just like that, you found yourself raising yourself just close enough his clothed crotch, Palms rubbing at his hard-on, “Use yourself in the right manner,” you heard him say and you sighed, it would in fact prove to be a long night.

Your face found itself moving close to his crotch, his musky scent registering inside you well, a scent you loved—all together, you could feel his fingers grip your hair gently, pressing your face roughly at his crotch. You couldn’t help but gag- your body itself trying to back off as your nose filled in with his scent, and it got harder to breathe.

You heard him ‘tsk’ at your attempt and his hand pulled your head roughly away from him—“What have I told you doll?” He sounded like a disappointed guardian with his tone, “You can gag all you want, cry too, but never back away yeah?”

You nodded, remembering his instructions well, “Sorry,” you muttered and he shook his head- “Let’s do it again yeah?”

His voice was so gentle, so opposed to how he was in the moment as he bucked his hips into your face, tears lining your eyes as you did your best to keep your face pressed to his crotch.

“Good slut,” he finally muttered, as he let you back away slowly, “This what you wanted to do to him yeah?”

“No,” you shook your head quick, “Never.”

He scoffed—“get up,” he prompted- watching lazily as you scampered around him, “To the bed and I wanted you naked and in position,” it wasn’t anything new- you’d heard him say it all the time but just the way this time he didn’t smile, just the way it wasn’t a text either, just something about everything told you that it would be a different night.

———

Your teeth bit down on your lips hard—the pressure building on your cunt slowly, ever so slowly, it ached.

“Toru’” you whined—a sharp sting—your head tilted to the side while your cheek beared redness form his slap, face scrunching in pain.

“Sorry,” you mumbled—voice barely audible—you lay there on all fours, naked, ass raised in all its glory—red and marked with his handprints—his.

“And I dared to think I've taught you better doll,” his teeth were gritted, jaw clenched as his hands pumped his own cock slowly—savouring your sight.

“Such a needy cumslut you've proved to be hm? Just begging for attention— can't even take my name right,” another sharp slapped he landed, grabbing and squeezing your ass roughly—“so wet and messy when I haven’t even used my damn cock,”

You could only groan as the slow buzz of the vibrator in your cunt increased.

“Sir please,” you begged, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease wanna cum so bad I’m so close,” all falling to deaf ears as he did nothing but squeeze your ass.

No words—before you could even realise what was happening you felt his fingers spreading your folds—so pink and puffy and pretty, he sighed at the sight.

Your shame and embarrassment only grew as he got close, nostrils inhaling your scent and he spat on your slit—“Don’t even need it, do you?” He voiced our loud—“Greedy little slut.”

You couldn’t help but let out a high pitched gasp the moment his tongue contacted with your clit right after his words—your back arched, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks as you tried holding onto your release.

“Gonna cum sir—please,” your voice was shaky now, the feeling was overwhelming, and you knew you were approaching your limit.

But not yet- you could take more, right? And so Satoru continued, tongue lapping onto every last corner of your folds—the vibrator long forgotten and removed.

“You cum tonight without my permission and this whorehole of a pussy you’ve got will not milk me anytime soon yeah princess?” He’d pulled you up now, closer—sweat and tension heavy in the air as he grasped onto your throat and pressed your back to his chest.

You wanted to shout no, you wanted to say you’d be his good girl but in the way his fingers bullied your pussy—his cock had not even touched you yet—the angry tip leaking Precum—in these ways you could only babble.

Soft moans and whispers of his name leaving your mouth, head almost empty of all thoughts.

He didn’t seem to notice yet—not for a while, you already had shifted though, slowly losing control over your body.

“Turn,” he prompted—you complied accordingly, dying to be validated, dying to hear him call you his good girl.

He pushed you into your back instantly—your eyes were still puffy, tears and drool marking your face—“such a needy, filthy one you are huh?” His voice was meaner now—your eyes, dazed.

“I could replace you, you know,” in an instant—too mean—what did he mean? Your thoughts spring fast—replace you?

“I’d have a million people lining up you know, far fucking better at this,” tears lined your eyes again, not of pleasure or pain this time—hurt.

Your thoughts ran wild—had you been that rude to him? You wondered as much as your tiny fucked out mind could manage—was he really angry at you?

“No,” you whimpered—his cock lined up at your entrance finally—and just as you were getting what you’d care we all day, you didn’t want it.

Not anymore.

But you hadn’t said it yet- not your safe word—Satoru continued, his vok pushing deep into you.

Your eyes rolled back, fingers clutching onto the bed sheets beneath you as you but your lip—“Toru!—Fuck, s’much, wait,” your pleas seemed empty, hollow.

He thrusted in again, deep—almost pulling out before coating his cock with your slick and pushing in deeper—you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Red!” You screamed—his eyes widened, pulling out of you instantly, guilt all too evident.

Silence crept in slowly, for a good minute only the buzz of the forgotten vibrator sounded in the room.

Satoru held your form close, palms sweaty and clammy, the scent of sex heavy in the air—“You alright doll?”

You shook your head, his heart sank.

“Shit,” he began, “I’m sorry I didn’t- I didn’t notice-”

“-would you actually replace me?” Your voice was small—eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you—“what?”

Confused—until it came crashing down—“Of course not princess,” he smiled, hands stroking your hair, “You’re my only one you know that right? Only one.”

His voice was firm—eyes scanning for any bruises that may make you uncomfortable as he kissed your forehead—“Anything I say during sex is highly superficial ok?”

You nodded—he chuckled, “I’m sorry,” he paused, “did I get too rude? Mean? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head again, earnestly, “You couldn’t,” he smiled, “sorry,” he mumbled again, softer against your skin.

“S’fine,” you mumbled back—“let me get you cleaned up?” His eyes gazed at you—“unless you wanna…?” A mischievous smile played at his lips—“still haven’t given my princess her climax, have I?”

You giggled—you loved him.

“I’ll take that as a yes alright?” He giggled this time as he fared his hand through your hair, “you’re the prettiest and the best girl you know?”

You smiled, so did he.

“And I’m so proud of you too,” he continued, laying you with your back on the bed, “Such a brave little doll yeah? My doll.”

And let’s just say if he didn’t get you to cum instantly on his fingers, with all that praise you’d have done it anyways.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

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cruciomione · 6 months

Text

yin and yang: carmy and sydney's creative processes + menu planning

what i love about analyzing carmy and sydney is the way they mirror each other. their similarities and differences, and how they have the potential to complement each other well. truly make each other better at this.

this is most evident with the way they approach creating a dish.

sydney's creative process

evidenced by sheridan (s01e05) and sundae (s02e03), sydney is very imaginative when it comes to creating a dish. the editing in these episodes gives us an intimate view of her creative process. recipes often come to her in dreams/daydreams.

sydney gets inspired by her passion for cooking, her family history and her city/world around her (architecture, nature, other restaurants in Chicago). this really fits into sydney's motivations as a chef.

Sydney uses food to make people happy. She likes to take care of people. someone on here explained the significance of sydney wanting exactly one michelin star, which would signify affordable high quality food that normal everyday people have access to. in braciole she mentions to marcus that her dad and her didn't really go out to eat so when they did, they made it count and it was special. she wants to create an experience like that with her own spot (the Bear).

so naturally that is reflected in her food. its not simply a great meal, but a fabric/archive of her culture, history, worldview and entire character.

while sydney has a very imaginative creative process, she often just jots down her ideas in her little notebook(s), for later reflection.

carmy's creative process

carmy has a more tense relationship with cooking. while sydney and carmy are both amazing chefs, carmy seems to be more jaded and detached from his work.

for carmy he grew up in a household where food was a big part of his family. his mom, mikey, and nat can all cook well. he is naturally very great at it. he uses food to be closer to the people he loves. thats why in the face of rejection from his brother, he goes off and becomes one of the best chefs in the country out of spite. why he uses the beef to try and fix his relationship with mikey. why he was so devasted when syd quit and why he started his dream restaurant with her after she came back.

because we dont get an intimate look into carmys psyche when creating a dish, its harder to say but based off his monolouge in braciole (s01e8) and the way he uses food to connect with people he loves rather than having passion for it independently i can surmise that carmy isn't imaginative as sydney. food is more like a math equation (ironic)/a science.

“he’s the best bc he didn’t have any of the bullshit”, emotional ties/relationships of any kind. his career esp at EMP were isolating, rigid and cold. he was the best bc he was calculating, precise and competitive. which breeds excellence in his field while straying him further away from love and true passion.

i imagine carmy to be more pragmatic with creating a dish.

but carmy is a creative person at his core and while creating a dish might not be as colorful as when sydney does it. we do know that carmy can draw and visualize his ideas onto paper. "Sistine Chapel" level drawings according to syd.

sydney + carmy - potential true partnership

on my 3rd rewatch, i couldn't help but feel so dissatisfied with their partnership. granted this is on purpose since the show is only 2 seasons in and they are trying to do a slow burn in all aspects, not just romantic.

it really hit me that carmy and sydney have never - at least on screen - created a meal together. in s1, we never see the risotto come to fruition, we just get carmys input but never the finished product. in s2 finally, carmy and Sydney work together now that their dynamic has changed from boss and employee to partners. we get like what? 4 scenes of them creating the menu, and having this amazing professional chemistry but ultimately leads to two failed dishes, which would be ok if they worked together after that. but they dont...

instead for the rest of the season, we see them (mainly Syd) working on the menu separately. the menu is....alright. mainly has carmy written all over it (he has a the seven fishes + cannolis, weird homage to one of the worst nights of his life).

*putting on another pair of shipper goggles to say this makes the whole "you make me better at this" confession, even more mind-boggling bc better at what? you guys haven't even worked together all season. this = life , i rest my case*

in s3 and beyond, im excited for them to truly start working together as partners and actually see them create a dish together.

i want to see how their approaches to creating a dish can help the other.

how sydneys creative process can help carmy

besides the obvious romantic implications of the palette cleanser outing, the potential for them to understand each other on a deeper level in regards to food is something i mourn everyday.

after sydney goes on her trip solo, we see her ride the ferry and just take a look at her surroundings. shes thinking about the food she ate, shes looking at buildings, windows, looking at the snow. all inspiration for a dish.

imagine if carmy was there with her. he would be curious about what she's thinking about, get insight on how she creates and maybe want to learn to see food in a less practical way.

i mean he hadn't drawn in years it seems until he was inspired by sydney and the chaos menu to draw again....now imagine if he didn't ruin the moment by bringing up claire (LMFAO). the point is, sydney naturally sparks creativity and passion in him, even when they aren't together.

i know many people are theorizing that carmy will leave the culinary industry (and i agree most of the time) but i also think sydney is slowly but surely helping him discover/re-discover a passion for cooking. i think that carmy likes that sydney likes to take care of people because subconsciously he knows he does the same thing or has the potential for it (i.e making tiff sprite from scratch when she was experiencing morning sickness). evidenced by fishes (s02e6), care often feels like an obligation (he takes care of drunk donna when shes going through an episode) but it doesnt have to be this way. and now carmy wants to get a star for her....their interests are slowly aligning.

how carmys creative process can help sydney

this isn't as concrete as the one above but i found it interesting thinking about how carmys more pragmatic approach and sydneys idealistic approach can work in tandem.

first scene in pop (s02e5) shows sydney and tina late at night working on the tasting menu. later in the episode we find out that carmy has been pushing back menu planning leaving sydney on her own. she trying an elements concept which is extremly creative and impressive but even tina says, which sydney later agrees, that its a lot for a tasting menu.

im stretching maybe....but based on carmys comment on her risotto from the season before (needs acid) + his practical approach, it seems like he acts like a buffer when sydneys ideas get "a lot".

*in chemistry buffers are solutions added to resist pH changes when acidic and basic components are added*

so if carmy needs to be more creative and sometimes sydneys ambitions gets ahead of her....

sydney is the heart, while carmy is the brain (???)

one cannot work without the other. when they truly come together to create the menu, they both need to learn from one another to elevate the restaurant. not to mention with carmy's italian american roots and syd's Nigerian-Caribbean/southern roots, they have the potential for amazing fusion dishes and real partnership. i and others want the menu to physically reflect both of them.

conclusion

i literally dont know where im going with this. sorta kinda meta but its more like hopes and dreams for next season and me wanting to type my ideas down.

they complement each other well ok? and have potential for a great partnership once they communicate better. i like this part of the definition of yin and yang: Their interaction is thought to maintain the harmony of the universe and to influence everything within it.

carmy and Sydney are the leaders of the bear, their relationship is foundational to the success of their restauarnt and team, once they work together truly, play to their strengths and weaknesses, then will come true harmony in their universe.

bonus

more sydcarm parallels/similaries/differences/yin yang moments:

carmys gold chain, syds silver earrings

carmys white t-shirts, syds white button ups

carmy is bad at math, syds great with numbers

carmy wasn't really great at school, this is sorta fanon but i can imagine syd excelled in school

both wear birkenstocks (more a chef thing but i still think its cute)

sunshine x grumpy trope but like better...usually the sunshine (syd) is more emotionally vulnerable making a space for grumpy (Carm), but they switch positions. carmy allows sydney to be more emotionally vulnerable often initiating deep conversations, while syd is more closed up/guarded

overall tho i think its cute that they are both shy/emotionally stunted but i do think purely aesthetic wise, sydney has a softer exterior ( doe eyes, colourful scarves, awkward) while carmy is more intimidating (tats, smokes, looks angry all the time)

both fight dirty - i.e their individual fights with richie (review, the bear)

carmy tho is more prone to outbrusts of anger/violence while sydney lets that shit shimmer until she explodes on you

both their passcode being 11111

carmy having dark mode on his phone, syd having light mode in s2

their matching clothes moments earlier in the second season and in bolognese

if theres more, pls comment/reblog, bc i always think of this shit and need more to cry about

fin!

credits: gif 1&2 , gif 3 and gif 4

#the bear #sydcarmy #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #sydcarmy meta #carmen x sydney #chefs kiss #its so late man i dont even care if this doesnt make sense im rambling #the bear meta

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paragonrobits · 6 months

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the unspeakable, unfettered rage i feel when i see that apparently a trending opinion on twitter is that Optimus Prime shouldn't be written as kind and compassionate but only an unfeeling warrior, how do you misunderstand a character that badly, how do you not get that the entire REASON this character completely redefined a major archetype and has kept a grip on the hearts and minds of fans for over 40 years is BECAUSE he is a kind and compassionate person who always extends a hand even when it'll get him hurt, who has been fighting an eternal war against tyranny because its the right thing to do

HOW THE FUCK DO YOU GET AWAY SPEAKING SUCH SLANDER, SUCH WRETCHED WICKEDNESS, YOU [remainder of post excised as the incomprehensible gibberish of rage cannot be conveyed in actual words]

OKAY. Okay.

so anyway I think this is a serious problem in media comprehension actually because you keep seeing these people on Twitter saying stuff like that, complaining about Optimus being tearfully horrified at the fragility of organic life and calling him weak for it despite his compassion being the core of the character; if you remove it, you literally remove the entire concept of Optimus' personality, motivations and reasons to do anything

and you keep seeing in with those takes because they have simillar opinions about Superman and similar characters motivated by heroism and kindness; these are the kind of people who obsess over power scaling and curbstomps, who have no interest in character dynamics deeper than 'who beats who in a straight physical fight'

#queued #optimus prime #transformers

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cherryblossomchronicles · 29 days

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I'm halfway through the show, Queen of Tears, and something that I've seen floating across is the anti Hyun Woo sentiment regarding how he treated Hae In initially and was just trying to do it all for the will.

Something to understand here is that in situations such as his, where he was emotionally empty and just a shell of himself who was just functioning, he didn't have the bandwidth to understand the gravity of situation that was Hae In's terminal illness.

In Hyun Woo's mind, he didn't have Hae In's support anywhere, be it against his in-Laws or in the company. She is silent against her family and hostile and argumentative in the company. He doesn't know what all she does for him on the sly or in backstage. He is not aware and Hae In never made the effort to change that situation.

All that pressure, anxiety, gear and emotional drain took its toll on Hyun Woo's emotional capacity. Stuck in a state of constant negativity, his initial reaction to Hae In's illness might be a form of self-preservation. He shuts down completely, unable to process the additional emotional burden of her mortality.

Something to remember is also the fact, that although he was thinking of it, the one thing that pushed him to draft the divorce papers were the talk of their child, whose entire identity and life was being decided by Hae In's family while she had no opinion on that and couldn't care less. This entire situation fueled the fire of resentment burning within Hyun Woo. Here was Hae In, seemingly indifferent to the future of their potential child, the very thing that initially distanced them. It felt like a repeat of their early struggles, where her family held all the cards and Hae In remained silent, leaving him to battle alone.

This perception, however flawed it might be, explains his impulsive decision to draft the divorce papers. Exhausted and emotionally hollowed out, he saw the child issue as the final straw, a symbol of their inability to stand together. He might have been grasping at a desperate solution, a way to force a change in their dynamic, a cry for her to finally fight for him and their future.

Of course, this doesn't paint Hyun Woo as a hero. His actions were undeniably hurtful, a clumsy and emotionally charged attempt to solve a complex situation. But by understanding the immense pressure he was under, the constant negativity seeping into his core, we can see a flicker of vulnerability beneath his anger. He craved Hae In's support, her voice alongside his in the face of adversity. Perhaps, the divorce papers were a twisted plea for her to finally break her silence, to acknowledge his pain and fight for their future together.

Here's where empathy becomes crucial. While his actions are undeniably hurtful, it's important to consider if they stem from malice or a desperate attempt to cope.

Think about it this way: Imagine a cup overflowing with negativity. Hyun Woo's daily struggles with his in-laws, the lack of support at work, and the constant emotional strain have already filled his cup to the brim. When Hae In's illness is revealed, it's simply too much for him to handle at that moment. He doesn't have the emotional space to understand the gravity of her situation, let alone offer support. in fact, it's easy for him to consider her death as an easy escape since his capacity for empathy or his love for her was essentially buried under all that negativity.

#It was not that he didn't love her #its just the fact that he is tired and had easily given up on their relationship #there is also the fact that for all his calm he does have passive aggressive tendencies #He tends to avoid conflict so it all results in him reaching for the worst conclusion without arguing or hearing another person talk #as evident in the show the more hae in talked and was vulnerable the more he was reminded that he indeed love her #he was also easily jealous of eun seong inspite of not caring much of her #according to him #which just proves that he did love her but in all their struggle that love was lost #honestly #for all his smarts he is a disaster #how did he even graduate from SNU #baek hyun woo #hong hae in #baekhong #queen of tears #kdrama

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cillyscribbles · 2 months

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munkuposting (metastrap?) for the jellinclined (i am so sorry)

you tell me i'm insane but i know my truth and my truth is that munkustrap wants to help her. he wants to reach out and help her up like he just helped jennyanydots during her song. he leans down and it's not just so he can look at her better. it's not just cause there's no point to his defensive stance here except for her to see, for him to communicate she's unwanted, and he knows it. shit dude the guy can't look her in the eyes for longer than 5 seconds.

like come on. munkustrap's running after old deuteronomy and the rest of the older/less agile cats so much in this goddamn film he might as well be Munkustrap the Mobility Aid Cat. man knows what he wants in life and that's going on as many walks with senior citizens hanging off his arm as physically possible and neither god nor the heaviside layer will stand in his way.

his responsibility's a whole different thing, though. look at the lad puffing up when grizabella shows up. that's a guard he uses against perceived threats like macavity and it's well and warranted then, but what in the name of ye olde cat gods is the old lady gonna do? garbage stink them all to death? it's performative as hell on purpose. both of them know she's not gonna jump him and he doesn't need to protect himself or his fellow cats from her physically.

in the macavity scares, odd as it might look on a person, The MunkuStance™ is a genuine threat. he's up above everyone else or he's one of the few cats on the stage, he's spreading himself out to look bigger, he HISSES lmao.

look at the lad. hissssss lmao i love him.

not only is he saying i won't hesitate bitch he's also establishing himself as The Guy You Fight. if you're an outsider looking in, you're probably not gonna notice Mr Mistoffelees Scampering Through The Pipes Again, but you sure as hell are gonna see the Snarling Tabby Fresh From Hell hopping around in the middle of the stage with his legs 16 kilometers apart at all times. and okay, doing that for the entire musical sure is a Choice, but it's a Character Choice, and mr michael gruber the man you are. the star that you are. i want to send him flowers and chocolate and a card. i would greatly like to do that.

with grizabella though? jesus christ she's about as threatening as a patchy sock. it's not even his first instinct to go Tall Big Puffy when he's trailing after her because there's genuinely nothing to defend against there.

he just sort of slowly stands into it as though he's forgotten he was supposed to be Protecting for a second. the stance, the threat, all that's only there to set a dynamic. it's there to say you're not one of us, we don't like you, please go away, but he's half-assing it so much it loses all its i won't hesitate bitch and turns into i have never hesitated so hard in my entire life. he still establishes himself as The Guy You Fight, but it's obvious grizabella isn't about to fight anyone, so now he's just The Guy She's Staring In Incredulous Longing At, and he can't even hold her gaze for long enough to pretend it's not getting to him because at his core he's not a bad person and he knows that all this is kind of a Dick Move.

this is what makes munkustrap so dummy god tier as a character to me. he may wish he could help grizabella. hell he may even want her back, if not as openly as old deuteronomy does. when all the cats scuttle away and turn their backs to grizabella before memory reprise, munkustrap never even fucking bothers ?? like he's straight up just watching her, and then later watching old deuteronomy watch her like with the most somber wee eyebrows up so can we finally do something about this expression i've ever seen on a performer lmao.

but that means nothing without the approval of the entire tribe! absolutely nothing! because munkustrap, in that regard, is exactly like old deuteronomy: what he wants comes second to what the jellicles want. it's harder to see in him because old deuteronomy is mostly up on the tire being cat jesus and munkustrap mingles with the rest of the ensemble way more, but it's really obvious when you look. they defer to his leadership, but he defers to their collective decisions.

he moves mistoffelees away from grizabella (just like the rest of the older cats) because mistoffelees doesn't know any better and grizabella is untouchable, but then he stalls and waits when demeter reaches out to her. like, i'm pretty sure he would've just let her touch grizabella right then and there. had demeter been a little less aware of the fact that this was the first 30 minutes of the musical, i'm pretty sure she would've just taken grizabella back in right then and there and memory wouldn't have even been necessary. munkustrap sure wasn't about to do shit about it.

he's actively leaning back to give her space!! (i know logistically that it's mr michael giving an opening for ms aeva to execute her Conflicted Scuttle Away but munkustrap is still leaning back however you put it so i'm right automatically. haw yee)

i'm fascinated by it specifically because this way it's almost as though munkustrap is an extension of the jellicle collective, if that makes sense. obviously he's the narrator so we can't give him a complex emotional storyline if we want to keep the aryas in single digits, but in turn this means that now he's a character who chooses to forgo his own feelings in favour of those of his community, and that's just, man, that's just. man. ca(s)t of all time for real. a guardian and a weapon and a storyteller and a teacher and not one of those for his own sake. Man.

tl;dr, old deuteronomy can be hella proud of his kid, and i can eventually stop crying. also here are the gifs of him finally getting to comfort grizabella a little. experience emotions with me.

unfortunately i have similar (if slightly less rambling) thoughts on tugger and why he's constantly being such a massive cunt to grizabella lmao. if you guys are unfortunate enough i may subject myself to the giffing and writing of that post too. toodlepip ✌️

#jellicle cats #cats 1998 #cats the musical #munkustrap #grizabella #cilly.txt #because lets be honest this isnt much in terms of art or writing lmao #woe. long post be upon ye #but tumblr usually shortens these one these days anyway

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