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#like just barely to the left of believably human
Spencer Reid x reader, Rossi is readers father, she is not part of the BAU, Curvy and much younger than Spencer at 26, loves how smart he is and likes to learn about facts she’s just not as smart, loves baking. Smut?? Maybe?? Thank you!
comfortable (spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader)
in which you & spencer discuss telling your dad, David Rossi, about your relationship
warnings: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! smut, smol age gap, fingering, praise kink, soft!dom Spencer, pet names
word count: 3658
A/N: thanks for this request 🥹 it was really fun and I think maybe a pt 2 where they actually tell Rossi could be a lot of fun, can you imagine the way Rossi’s eyes would bug out of his head 💀
He was standing in the doorway of your off-campus apartment with this goofy grin on his face. He was older than you - only by a few years, but still in an entirely different stage of life - and he worked with your dad, but you’d never felt butterflies like these before.
It felt like movie love. Like romance novel love, and not those cheesy paperbacks with the Fabio-type model on the front. But like the more modern ones, the ones with the cartoon people on the covers and the big, colorful block letters. You had about a hundred of them on your bookcase. You could go reference them right now if you really wanted to.
Spencer Reid blinked those big, brown eyes at you and your mouth flickered uncontrollably into a soft smile. “Your doorbell doesn’t work,” Spencer pointed out by way of greeting. He still had that goofy grin on his face as you stepped aside so he could come in. You locked the door behind him.
“Didn’t I tell you that?” You mused, turning around to face him. He’d been to your apartment before, but usually trailing after you. Never meeting you here. He shook his head.
Then he lifted the bouquet of flowers in his hands and your smile grew into a full-blown grin. “What’re these for?” You squealed, taking the bouquet and immediately raising them to your nose. Baby pink carnations. He remembered your favorite flower.
He remembered everything, you reminded yourself.
“They’re your favorites. You said they reminded you of your mom’s house,” Spencer said, then took one of those sharp breaths that told you he was about to bequeath upon you a boatload of information. You barely had time to swoon over the fact that he remembered why carnations were your favorite.
“Did you know that carnations were actually mentioned in literature as far back as Ancient Greece? The name is believed to come from the Latin corona - meaning crown or wreath, as it was one of the more common flowers used to make laurels and crowns,” Spencer rattled off.
“We should make flower crowns out of them,” you proposed with an excited giggle, walking past Spencer and into the small kitchen of your apartment. He chuckled and followed you, standing behind you as you took the plastic sleeve off the bouquet, holding the flowers over the sink so water wouldn’t get on the floor. “Oh,” you murmured, not realizing how thick the stalks of the flowers were. “We can’t tie these together,” you pouted.
Spencer’s hands found your hips as he stood behind you, his palms contouring to match your curves. His lips met the side of your head, between your temple and your hairline. “You could put them on your table?” He suggested.
You felt stuck with the dripping flowers in your hand and the overwhelming desire to turn around and kiss your boyfriend silly. “Vase,” you blurted out instead of speaking like a normal human being. Spencer made your brain turn into mush.
“Where?”
“Shelf by the fridge.”
Spencer’s hands left your hips, but not before he gave them a gentle squeeze, as if to say I’ll be back soon. You turned your head to the side and watched as Spencer grabbed the vase off the shelf, returning to your side in moments to help you set the flowers in it.
This relationship was still very new. It had been about three months since you went out to lunch with your dad on some random Thursday, and he brought you back to work with him to introduce you to his team. It had been eight weeks since Spencer took you out for the first time - dinner and a walk around the nearest park, where Spencer had grabbed your hand for the first time, where he’d rambled off some fact about willow trees you couldn’t be bothered to remember because shortly after, he’d pressed his lips to yours and you’d made out underneath one.
He was away a lot, which was to be expected, given the nature of the BAU’s work. But he called you when he could, and he made every effort to see you when they weren’t on assignment. You couldn’t really talk with him about work - “it’s classified,” he’d always say with a thin-lipped smile, as if to say he’d really like to tell you, but he just couldn’t.
“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer asked as you floated from the sink to set the vase of flowers on the kitchen table. His voice always pulled you out of your own head.
“Nothing in particular, really,” you told him, turning to face him. Spencer reached a hand out and took yours, tugging you to him. “You, mostly,” you teased as his palms lay against your hips. “I think it might be time.”
“Time?” Spencer asked as he craned his neck down to kiss you, briefly, on the lips. So, his mind was obviously elsewhere.
“Time,” you confirmed. “To tell my dad. About us.”
Spencer pulled his head back so he could look at you properly, his fingers dug into the soft, sensitive flab above your hip bones, and you scrunched your nose up because it tickled, resisting the urge to giggle. “You do, do you?” He asked, a playful smile crossing his lips. “And here I thought you enjoyed the secrecy.”
“No, as a matter of fact, I hate it,” you laughed breathily. “I hate lying to my dad.”
“For the record, we haven’t lied about anything,” Spencer pointed out. “We’ve just withheld information. It’s entirely different.”
That was true, you supposed. When your dad asked you last week at your monthly dinner at his house if you were seeing anyone, you just nodded and told him you weren’t ready to tell him about it yet, and he respected that. You didn’t not tell him it was his coworker.
“I guess so,” you replied, your lips pursing into the corner of your mouth.
To Spencer’s credit, the whole keeping-it-from-your-dad thing was your idea. You’d done it for a multitude of reasons - mostly so you could figure out if this thing with Spencer was going to go anywhere before your dad was in the loop, so you could go with Spencer at your own pace, get to know him without any third-party interventions.
“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. It’s not anything to feel guilty about. Yeah?” Spencer reminded you, lifting one of his hands from your hips to curl his index finger and tuck it under your chin. He guided your gaze to meet his. “You’re an adult, and you can see whoever you want to see. When and if you tell Rossi is entirely up to you.”
“I know,” you nodded, sighing softly, your arms lifting and reaching up to wind around his neck. Spencer’s lips broke out in a soft smile at the action. “Isn’t it weird for you at work, though?”
“Not really?” Spencer phrased it as a question, shrugging his shoulders a little bit. “There’s never really time for personal conversation when we’re on a case, and if there is, I usually just deflect to someone else. Although, there was a close call while we were on our way back this last time,” he began, the hand under your chin dropping and moving back to your hip, guiding you back so you were flush against the kitchen counter.
“Oh, god, what happened?” You asked as you hopped up so your rear splayed out atop the counter, and Spencer moved to stand between your legs. Despite the lack of gap between your thighs, Spencer’s lanky frame fit comfortably between them. His fingers spread palm-side down against the tops of your thighs. You were biting your lip as your boyfriend continued with his story.
“I guess I was grinning down at a text you’d sent me, the one about your Short Fiction Analysis exam,” he explained, referring to one of the classes you were taking this term. “You’d said you thought Shirley Jackson was underrated, that The Lottery was one of your favorite short stories ever and you would stone anyone who disagreed,” you snickered at this, and Spencer’s hands slid just slightly further up your thighs. “That was the same reaction I had,” Spencer pointed out with a small laugh. “And Rossi’d been the one to catch it. He said that my expression was one that could only be caused by a beautiful woman.”
You shook your head, rolling your eyes. That sounded like your dad, all right. “And what did you say?” You asked, willing the blush in your cheeks to go away. Spencer knew already that he made you feel like you were on fire with just a simple touch, but still. Your lack of experience and the fact that you were younger than him, still in college… it always made you feel even more flustered.
“I said I could neither confirm nor deny,” Spencer laughed self-deprecatingly, rolling his eyes at himself. “And then I changed the subject. I pulled Derek in the conversation and asked him about his girlfriend.”
“Very strategic,” you commented with a bob of your throat.
“But if you want to tell him, and you think you’re ready, then I think we should,” Spencer added, and you smiled just slightly at this.
“Okay,” you smiled hazily, just as Spencer bent down to kiss you. His hands traveled to the waistband of your sweatpants and your breath hitched in your throat.
“This okay?” Spencer asked just as his long fingers curled around the waistband on either side of your hips.
You’d pulled the sweatpants all the way up over your belly button, and your tummy was incredibly ticklish. So your voice was breathy and shaky when you responded. “Mmhm.”
“If it’s not, you need to tell me,” Spencer reminded you in a low whisper, his lips planting along kissing your neck, each one tacky like a postage stamp.
“It’s okay,” you reiterated, forcing your voice to sound more full. Your hands had moved to lay flat against his chest, but now your fingers curled around the crinkly fabric of his blue dress shirt. You’d never dated anyone who dressed so grown up before. “I’m good.”
“Good,” Spencer murmured as his lips traveled up to your chin. He was mapping out your entire face jawline with his lips, until finally your mouths met. He was slow and intentional at first, like he was savoring it, probably making observatory notes in his head. When his tongue teased your lips apart, you allowed him in, a small whimper escaping you.
You had scooted forward on the countertop, squeezing Spencer’s body between your thighs. Your toes curled as one of Spencer’s hands lifted to cradle the back of your head, holding your face to his like an oxygen mask. And he kept breathing you in, his tongue expertly dancing with yours, kissing you so that when he finally pulled back, you couldn’t breathe.
You were panting, your whole face red as Spencer’s hand moved from the back of your head to one of your full cheeks. His thumb swiped across your cheek and the corners of his mouth just flickered upward. “I really missed you,” he whispered, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. His other hand still rested on the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping beneath it and padding around your stretch marks.
“I missed you, too,” you murmured back, and Spencer just smiled at this lazily. “Do you… do you want to…”
Spencer’s smile slowly turned into a patient smirk. “Do I want to what?” He asked all-knowingly, his eyes meeting yours. Your cheeks flushed again, bashful and embarrassed to even ask him.
“Do you want to go to my bed?” You exhaled, and Spencer’s head dipped to press a brief kiss to your lips.
“What makes you think I can’t take care of you right here?” He smirked, and the hand on your cheek floated back down to your waistband. “Can I please take your sweatpants off, pretty girl?”
Your breath stopped and you nodded. “Yeah, but… Spence?” You pressed the pads of your fingers into his chest. His gorgeous brown eyes met yours.
“What is it?”
“If you’re going to, like, you know, right here,” you began, your chest rising and falling slowly. “I just don’t think I can, like, spread my legs apart enough for you to…”
“Would you be more comfortable lying down, Y/N?” Spencer asked. What you loved was that he wasn’t impatient about it, he wasn’t annoyed. He could just tell you were having trouble articulating your concerns and he wanted to help. He was reading your mind - well, scientifically speaking, he was probably reading your behavior and your body language - but he just got it so quick.
“Yeah,” you nodded, sighing softly in relief that he understood.
“Then let’s lie you down,” Spencer agreed. He kissed you once more, briefly, stepped back, holding his hands out to help you off the counter. Your knees were weak for multiple reasons as you wobbled towards your bedroom, letting Spencer guide you so you were flat on your back, looking up at him. “Is that better?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer hovered over you. One knee outside your leg, the other very much in between them, his hands gripping your shoulders. Spencer craned down to kiss you again, as if a car had been jump started, and you were once again lost in it, unable to think about anything else but the man on top of you and how much you loved the way he touched you.
He wasn’t afraid of your body or how you’d react - rather, he seemed to find arousal in you being comfortable. His hands moved down to your waistband once again, obviously his fixation for the day, and he asked you again if it was okay that he remove your pants. You just nodded and told him, “yes.”
Even though the word had come out softly and raspy, in the back of your mind, you were screaming for the love of god, yes. If you stop touching me, I might commit heinous crimes.
Soon your pants were off, with some strategic shimmying over your hips and thighs, and you watched with a slightly amused expression as Spencer tossed them aside carelessly. He never did anything carelessly, so the action was a nice ego boost, knowing you could cause his system to glitch just as much as he could yours.
Spencer’s hands went back to your hips, sliding under the bottom hem of your t-shirt, inching closer to your breasts as your pelvis lifted, searching desperately for any kind of friction, your center making contact with Spencer’s knee between your legs. He dug his knee in a little further, your underpants acting as a thin divider.
“Can I take your shirt off, beautiful?” Spencer asked, and all the nerve endings in your face went numb.
“When are you gonna lose some clothes, pal?” You asked breathlessly, taken aback by your own sassiness. Spencer was too, but he laughed, a brimful sound that would have knocked you over if you weren’t already lying down.
Spencer’s laugh still lined his voice as he looked down at you. “I guess it’s only fair,” he chuckled. “Which would you-“
“Shirt,” you tugged at his collar pathetically, your fingers shaking as you tried to undo the buttons.
That stupid smirk rose on his face and Spencer kissed your nose teasingly before he took his hands in yours. “Need me to get those for you?” He asked, and you nodded. Deftly, his fingers worked the buttons until the shirt was shrugging off his shoulders. You watched with your mouth hung ajar like a garden gate.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Spencer bent down at his waist again to continue his cartographic exploration of your neck and jaw, his kisses feather light and so, so frustrating. His hands slid up your shirt again, gliding smoothly over your supple skin, his fingertips tracing your stretch marks. “Now that we’re on a level playing field,” Spencer said between kisses. “Can I please take off your shirt?”
A sound escaped you, a combination of breathy laughter and a desperate whine. “Yeah,” you murmured. Your hands moved to run through his perfect hair. It was so soft, so clean. How did he have time to keep it so clean? Your fingertips dug at his scalp as Spencer’s knee dug once again into the space between your legs. You groaned as Spencer guided you to lift your torso so your t-shirt could be tugged off over your head.
“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, and you felt your cheeks redden. He kissed your lips, his swollen and plump against yours as his hands traveled down. He swung the knee that was in between your legs over so that he fully straddled you now. He seemed to want to be everywhere - your breasts, your stomach, your lips, between your legs. It was like he couldn’t decide.
“What do you want, Spence?” You asked him, and Spencer’s eyes snapped to yours. Your tongue jutted out to moisten your lips.
“What do I want?” Spencer repeated, looking at you with an incredulous expression. “I want to make you feel good, angel. Do you want me to do that for you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”
“God. Yes.” You huffed. Spencer’s mouth was on yours in an instant, kissing you repeatedly as his hand traveled down. Hovering over your underwear, Spencer’s thumb pressed against your fabric-covered center and you felt him groan, the sound reverberating through your mouth.
“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he observed and your back arched instinctively, needing him.
“Spence,” you rasped.
“Say it again,” Spencer’s eyes met yours and his brow arched just as you felt him dip his index and middle fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.
“Please, Spencer,” you managed to get out.
“That’s it,” he smirked, kissing your lips once as a reward before sliding your underpants down your thighs. You lifted your legs and he helped you out of them, tossing them aside like they were just collateral damage. His index finger was quick to tease at your folds, and you wondered if he had been thinking about this all day. “Open your legs a little bit more for me, angel,” he instructed.
You succumbed to his request almost instantly, and when Spencer’s finger rubbed against your clit, you had to bite back a moan. “What have I told you about holding back?” Spencer chastised you, and your eyes locked onto his. “I told you, don’t ever muffle yourself, baby. I want to hear every noise.”
“Spencer…”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No. Don’t you dare.”
“That’s my girl,” Spencer smirked, and began to pump his two fingers into you. Your legs began to close on instinct, but Spencer’s other hand pushed your hair out of your eyes. “Keep ‘em open, beautiful,” he said patiently, his fingers increasing exponentially in speed. “You hear how wet you are?”
“Mmm,” was all you could say as the filthy, wet sounds emitted from your middle.
“And that’s all for me, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you choked out as your hips bucked towards his fingers.
Spencer’s fingers were relentless as he fucked you with them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your vision going white and hazy from the pleasure, from your walls tightening around Spencer’s incredibly deft digits.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Just hang on a little longer, yeah?” Spencer cooed, his voice genuinely, tooth-achingly sweet, and you felt his lips beneath your ear. He kissed the skin there, and you felt him move his lips up to your earlobe, taking it briefly between his teeth. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he reiterated in a low whisper.
Your hands clawed desperately against his bare back for some iota of purchase, moving from his back to his hair, to his neck as he fucked you senseless. You were getting so close, whiny, needy little whimpers escaping you as Spencer continued to pump into you. And finally - finally - you reached your peak. Spencer didn’t let up, letting you ride your orgasm for as long as you could. Stars blurred your vision, and all you could see were those dark brown eyes looking so lovingly down at you.
And when you finally started to come down, Spencer’s movements slowed. He was never the type to immediately pull out. No, he merely turned down the intensity as you caught your breath, rubbing your clit gently as his fingers - soaked with you - slowly came out of you.
“How do you feel?” he asked as you panted, your eyes meeting his.
You opened your mouth to say something - anything, but no words came out. “Baby, use your words,” Spencer encouraged, and you huffed, frustrated with yourself, that you couldn’t say much of anything right now.
“G-good,” you whispered with a hoarse voice. Spencer used his clean hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Very good,” you added.
“Very descriptive,” Spencer teased with a smirk, and you were too ravished to play back.
You managed to prop yourself up on to your elbows just as Spencer moved off of you, laying down on his side so he could kiss your neck soothingly. “Y/N?” He asked.
“Yeah?” you breathed, turning so you were on your side, so you could face him.
“I’m in love with you,” he whispered, and your eyes widened. You thought for a second he might be playing some sick joke, but then you looked in his eyes and saw how clear, how serious they were. Your lips flickered into a small, tired yet ridiculously happy smile. “You don’t have to say it back if you-“
“I love you, too,” you whispered, your lips meeting his in a long, slow, lazy kiss, feeling deliriously, stupidly happy.
——
A/N 2: I’ve never actually written smut before (I’ve read plenty lmfao) so if something is weird OR if you have any suggestions plzzzzz tell me I can take constructive criticism on this front xD
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artemx746 · 1 day
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Imagine you work at a casino, it’s not a typical one, you can only play poker and the rules have become so mangled it’s basically an entirely new game but people visit regardless. One day, while you’re still working your shift, a man comes in wearing a suit, it’s purple on the outside and decorated with images of galaxies on the inside, one his left a small sheep with black wool dyed to look like it has sprinkles and on his right is a person who declares themself Anonymous Jolteon (you don’t know what a Jolteon is, it must be some sort of forgotten deity based on how they're dressed) the crowd of what must’ve been over one thousand people declare them a prophet.
You start playing and… he knows everything. The prophet whispers in his ear and everything happens just as they say. The crowd calls it dark magic as a joke but you're inclined to believe it. Eventually the prophet stops whispering to him after another pack of tarot cards are bought (I told you this casino was odd) and goes to stand in the crowd. You breathe a sigh of relief, the less that prophet speaks the better, oh how you would be punished for your foolishness. The game continues and He. Keeps. Flushing. Every single hand he plays is a flush of spades and the chips keep rising. 100,000 is cleared with ease. 200,000 is where it would've been over but he demands to keep going. 300,000. You keep trying to set him challenges that should've at least posed some difficulty but he clears them with no issue. 400,000. 600,000. e16. You stare in horror at the man as he surpasses e29 and he barely celebrates it. The prophet speaks again to give one small piece of advice and goes silent again. The man reaches e38 and still demands to go further. He starts chanting, something about turning left cards into right cards, but you aren't listening, you're staring, at the crowd, at the man, at the prophet. You begin to wonder if you've been trapped in some sort of purgatory, being punished for whatever crimes you may have committed in life. The prophet tells him to turn paper into glass, just to see how high they could reach. Again, he starts converting left cards into right cards. Converting left cards into right cards. Converting left cards into right cards. Converting left cards into right cards. Converting left cards into right cards until his entire deck is glass. A tarot card gives him a polychrome card and the prophet exclaims that not even they could do that and that the man has received all the help from them they could give. The crowd jokes that the gods would tremble before him. You would believe it. e49. He didn't even play the polychrome yet. If a glass breaks he simply makes a new one without a care in the world. He plays a full polychrome glass deck and... e58. More than the amount of atoms on earth. He gets offered a card and the prophet speaks up one last time to announce that, should he take it, the man has a definite chance of losing at some point. That was the greatest new you ever heard in your life. The man takes it and the next hand is e73. Then e74. Then e87 and the crowd cheers, that is more than the atoms in the observable universe.
He keeps going.
e88. e89. The man understands that the end is in sight and you feel like you can see a light at the end if the tunnel. e95. You're so close. You set it to e98 and the man smiles knowingly at you and just for a second he feels a little more human. He accepts that his next hand is his last and plays his cards. e96. You're free. You laugh. In spite of everything you laugh. With tears in your eyes you laugh! The crowd, the prophet, the man and the sheep all leave.
You vow to never return.
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@blorb-el i blame you for these 1 am doodles (/lh)
i think my favorite thing to do is give clark like, unnecessarily shiny anime eyes HSLKDFJH after years of having to repress the urge to add bright highlights to my characters' eyes, im returning to my roots
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smores100 · 5 months
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hey.
so. haven't been around for quite some time, mostly due to my health issues (the usual + muscle aches and joint pains, i'm having a great time), but also in part due to The Situation. it's hard to care about anything with everything that's been going on, it all seems so pointless and meaningless, i'm living in a completely different universe from everyone else here. wish i could be that privileged, but alas. it's also hard being around here, and on other social media platforms for that matter, and seeing the raging antisemitism and sheer hate everywhere. i haven't checked my dash in almost 2 months, haven't checked specific blogs like i used to either, and have no plans on doing so anytime soon. i know what i'll find, i don't want it.
i was gonna stay quiet like i ususally do, especially since i genuinely don't have energy for anything rn, but it's been 2 months and i've been biting my tongue and screaming and crying into my pillow daily and i just need to get some of it out before i implode. there's only so much ignorance and hate that one person can take before snapping, so. here i am.
i have so much i want to say, i've written a million posts in my mind in the past 2 months, but i'm too Tired to actually write them down, and it'll just be one big messy ramble anyway, so i'm just gonna reblog a couple of other people's posts and make do with that. just a couple, don't worry, i know these are issues most either want to avoid dealing with or the opinions shared in those posts are a complete 180 degrees from what's trendy to believe in today. but i have to share it anyway. for 2 months i've been terrified, frustrated, bitter, angry and absolutely heartbroken, but there's one thing i haven't been, and that is ashamed. i'm proud of who i am. i'm proud of my people and their spirit. you will never understand what it's been like for us, what it still is like for us, but let me just say this: they wanted to break us, they wanted to break our spirit. they failed. we've never been more united. they just made us stronger.
so i'm gonna reblog some stuff so i can get it out of my system and move on. at worst i hope you just ignore and scroll past it; at best i hope you keep an open mind and maybe for the first time read things from a different pov instead of just the one sided propaganda everyone is continuously exposed to. maybe you'll see it isn't all black and white, maybe you'll see there are nuances you're not even aware of, maybe you'll realize you've been fed a lot of misinformation, half truths and even lies over the years. maybe. if you have questions or want to have a mature and civil conversation about it, feel free to msg me and i'll try and reply when my health allows me to, i'm open to discussion. if you want to unfollow me after this, feel free to do so. i'm not gonna force my truth on anyone, but i'm also not gonna change who i am for anyone either.
and on a more personal note, i wanna say thank you again for the msgs i've received last time and haven't replied to (due to health, Situation etc), and for the ones i've gotten since (will get to those soon i hope). i do feel the need to say this tho - i did have a peek or two at my dash and on twitter earlier on and saw some things. i was in a super sensitive state at the time and it was pretty disheartening ngl. it's hard nowadays, with all the hate going on and public opinion being what it is, to know whether or not you're still welcome in these spaces, whether or not people still like you and care about you, or if you've officially become persona non grata. most days it feels like the latter tbh. i just don't know where i stand. i said i'm not gonna force myself on anyone and i'm not, so if you're still ok with me…i guess the ball's in your court? 🌻
thanks for reading. thanks for sticking around, to those who decide to do so. take care y'all. never again is now. am yisrael chai. 💙
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bo0zey · 1 year
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being the oldest daughter raised by a narcissistic emotionally abusive father is just…👩‍🍳👌💋
#i don’t know why i always end up crying when i know exactly what to expect from him#the constant belittling then turning around and crying victim on how i ‘hurt’ him bc he can’t accept the fact that he did something wrong#i know i shouldn’t expect anything from him but it’s like this stupid fucking useless part of me during these moments is just#so heartbroken and frustrated because it’s not fair the child in me just wants to have a dad that cares and sees her as a human#nobody fuckjng cares if they hurt me and i don’t care if they hurt me either that’s why i hurt me too#he’s supposed to be my dad he’s my only parent left and he never should’ve been a parent to begin#i can’t believe how easily he turns things on me saying it’s my fault i never come talk to him and it’s like how the fuck#you were barely basically nonexistent the first 5 years of my life then barely there from then on out#how could i ever come to you how could i trust you just because i’m your daughter by blood doesn’t mean you’re not a stranger to me#you’re supposed to be the adult you’re my father you’re supposed to come to me and guide me why are you such a helpless fucking child#i do everything on my own i have nothing to say to you just like you have nothing to say to me#small talk only does so much i don’t want to talk to him i don’t care about our relationship#i’m just literally flabbergasted at the audacity he has to gaslight and manipulate me and ply victim when i’m the one he keeps hurting#it just reinforces the idea that my feelings are invalid my feelings have been invalid to him for the past 23years#i wish i was emotionless and unfeeling i wish he didn’t have the power to affect my emotions so strongly#i’m such a little kid i wish my mom was here i wish someone wanted to protect me and talk to me and at least try to understand me#i can’t wait to be dead i just want this to be over i’m just wasting time taking up someone else’s space#i think the only time i’ll be genuinely happy is when i’m dead#i don’t remember the last time i was actually happy unless i’m distracting myself#i’m constantly maladaptive daydreaming and when i’m not i’m at work trying to be a functioning an adult#but as soon as i’m home i’m back in my dream world where i don’t have to think about me at all#when gerard said When i grow up i want to be nothing at All that man read my my mind#ramblings#vent
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electriccenturies · 2 years
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...why... why has the mcr fandom suddenly decided it's okay to call ppl slurs???
the misgendering is old news by now but the constant f*g f*ggot f*g f*g is new and AWFUL. it is NOT progressive or okay??? you get to reclaim it for YOURSELF, it is still a slur if you say it about others!!!! especially about ppl who have specifically asked you to not speculate or talk about their sexuality... and ppl who have almost certainly had that word used to hurt them.
like i cant speak about fr*nk or r*y but the w*y bros have both talked about people thinking they were gay in high school and being bullied for it. the 90s were NOT like now, it was not SAFE. that is also why ppl call m*key GNC btw since ive seen ppl complain about that. yeah what he wore is p normal NOW, but it was not back then??? you can't just remove context from things??? so yeah, m*key wearing super tight girls jeans and eyeliner and doing whatever the fuck he did to his hair back then (and even just being openly touchy feely with dudes??? like those heychris pics) WAS gnc in 2005. so, so wild to me how people have latched on to g*rard being the "true f*g of the band" or whatever when m*key was also pretty openly doing gay shit too. it says a lot about what people actually care about: making g*rard a paper doll to project onto — he was talking about YOU!!!! — rather than actually being excited to have successful, gnc, probably lgbt icons like that.
i just dont get how people can convince themselves they're being Good People and treating LGBT people well while they act like this. like trans is not a slur, she is not a slur, but it is 100% misgendering to call someone trans or she/her if they have never asked you to??? why is okay to misgender g*rard as a 'joke' but not misgender YOU?
it's because you treat transness as a joke, sorry!
#i have blocked so many ppl for calling g*rard a girl/trans/transfem/she/a f*g that theres barely anything left to see#I truly dont know what to say to ppl who think thats okay... how can they claim to 'love' and 'respect' g*rard#while blatantly violating his wishes? he has said over and over to STOP forcing labels on him#its not okay to misgender people i dont give a fuck if you're trans#its not okay to force ANY label on real human people or to call them slurs??? WHAT?!?! idk how this fandom got so twisted#g*rard has made it super fucking clear that his identity is none of our business and if he IS trans he clearly doesn't want to come out#(he's also clarified what he meant by he/they but ppl who take 'i identified WITH girls' as 'I identify AS a girl' dont care about that)#like ive said this before i think but believing he legit uses he/they pronouns also means that you think his brother and friends dont care#enough about him to do it since they ONLY ever use he when refering to g*rard#if he actually asks for smth then yeah of course ppl should respect it! but he HASN'T and he's straight up done the opposite#u think he's gonna ever feel safe coming out now that his words have been twisted and ppl think its cool to call him a trans woman?#idk its just Gross. it is the exact opposite of progressive and kind#think whatever u want like i have a Theory about a member of MCR but u know what? i dont fucking TELL people unless they bring it up first#and then only in DMs!!!#keep it to yourself if you have to talk about it!!!!!#im bitter about how ive been treated btw but i am trans positive... just not cool with THIS version of the 'trans community'#just if anyone was gonna throw that at me... i want changes but i do very much want trans ppl to be able to transition... ANYWAY
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inmaki · 4 months
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number one sorcerer (and virgin) .
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synopsis: req! in which your boyfriend — notorious for boasting about how good he is in bed — turns out to be all bark and no bite (until you give him some guidance, at least).
pairing: virgin!switch!gojo x f!reader
wc: est. 6k?
incl: unprotected sex, pull-out method, lots of dirty talk, a bit of teaching gojo, petnames, manhandling, size kink, clit play, praise kink, edging (himself), teasing, mocking, fingering, oral (f + slight m), cum swallowing
a/n: ty for awakening smtn in me anon it was nice to be writing a full fic again!! hope im not too rusty,, this is straight up filth tho so mdni
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back when satoru and you were just friends, he liked to make it very clear to your circle of peers that he wasn’t just good at sex.
no, according to himself, he was some kind of sex god — to match his power level in sorcery, of course.
and obviously, who was anyone to think otherwise? the great gojo satoru; such a cocky and confident demeanour paired with angelic white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a tall sculpted body that other guys at the gym double-take at. him..? a virgin? hah! good one.
satoru believes that he’s done a rather spectacular job at keeping his reputation sky-high.
the only problem was.. now he had a girlfriend with high expectations to please.
since the day you’d gotten together — going multiple months strong — satoru was starting to sweat more and more knowing that his rather crucial fabrication was bound to be brought up sooner or later. you had your needs just like him, and satoru wouldn’t blame you if you were a bit worried about why he hasn’t initiated anything; y’know, since he was supposedly eros in human form and all that.
little did you know your boyfriend felt equally frustrated. for slightly different reasons.
“bro, it’d be hot if she was a virgin, but me?!” flopping back against the armrest, gojo lets out a theatrical groan while his best friend — the only other person to know of his dark secret — snickers against the cushions nearby.
“everything’d be fine if you didn’t pretend to be some incubus that makes girls cum with a snap of his finger,” geto quips unhelpfully.
satoru lifts his head, sneering when he realizes that the raven-haired man was much too busy scrolling on his phone to notice how he’s resting a pair of dirty shoes on his white couch. “that would be pretty cool..” when he only receives a disgusted glance, he huffs, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable as his thoughts wander further. “how’m i even gonna tell her? what if she doesn’t trust me anymore?”
at last, suguru looks up with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “you know y/n isn’t like that. just.. wait for her to initiate something and go with the flow,” he advises, lips curling into a knowing smirk.
“you find a way to be good at everything, anyway, toru. she’ll be begging for you in no time.”
as usual, geto knows him too well, because those last few words have gojo shooting up from the sofa with a grin. “ya think so?”
“hell yeah, man.” the two idiots end the discussion by dapping each other up, a confident gleam in both of their eyes.
only a couple days later, satoru discovers that going with the flow isn’t as easy as suguru advised. with your plush lips sucking his bottom one through occasional moans, along with a delicate pair of nails scratching perfectly at his undercut, he already felt himself getting breathless and aroused like a teenager.
perhaps you’ve put him under a spell; how is it that he lasts through prolonged battles while barely breaking a sweat, but having your cute hand move to rub up on his abs and pecs send his nerves into overdrive? it wasn’t like making out wasn’t uncommon for the two of you, this time it just felt so passionate with the way your hips moved to straddle his, tongue practically begging for entrance while the movie on screen was left long forgotten.
gojo can’t help but groan as your muscle explores his mouth, core ever so smoothly grinding on his bulge and igniting heat through his entire body. even as you pull away to take a breath, his grip on your waist remains stable as if you’d disappear at any moment— growing even tighter with the way you bore into his eyes hungrily. “satoru..”
your unusually seductive voice makes him audibly gulp. “y— yeah?” he whispers, glancing to the hand thats now moving down over his grey sweats. shit, this was too much, was he dreaming? he should do something, pinch himself before—
“touch me, please?” as you voice your request, you squeeze his dick so nicely that satoru swears he nearly explodes in his boxers.
he swallows, words getting lost in his throat. “i— i uh...”
for the first time in history, satoru has been rendered speechless, and you visibly panic at this realization. yet when you try to carefully maneuver off his lap and give him space, the clutch on your waist intensifies. “what— are you okay? what’s wrong?” you murmur, brows creasing with concern.
though you never brought it up, satoru’s worry about your confusion was correct; you’d been expecting him to jump your bones a week into your relationship, but seeing how he never forced anything and remained respectful was cute.. at first. after a month of rejection and being pushed away whenever things got too heated, insecurities were bound to start brewing inside you.
he better have a damn good explanation.
“i’m fine,” he reassures, “it’s just— i should probably tell you something..” refusing to meet your eyes, the sorcerer resorts to drawing shapes against the skin under your t-shirt. in other situations, this would feel soothing, relaxing even — but currently, his lacking and lingering touch made you want to rip the hairs off your head.
all you wanted was to finally get a taste of your steaming hot boyfriend. what could he possibly need to say right now? you ponder, hasn’t he been dying to finally show off how amazing he is in bed?
“yes..?”
“it’s actually a funny story, ahaha..” he stalls, chuckling nervously as you turn his jaw to make eye contact. a feeling of impatience and neediness pulls through you, but you contain yourself with a deep breath.
“spit it out, satoru.”
there was no going back now, right? “so.. i’ve uh— i’ve never actually done this before.”
you blink.
“you’re a virgin?”
it was difficult to believe your own words; it sounded wrong no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around it. satoru being inexperienced? the satoru with a rock hard 6 pack? the satoru with biceps that bulge out of his shirts and a face sharp enough to be sculpted by aphrodite herself? your satoru?
it sounded ridiculous, but the ugly pout rising across his lips tells you that it wasn’t a prank after all. “hey, don’t call me that, now it sounds way worse!”
a sigh escapes your lips, arms folded across your chest. “so all those never have i ever games and stories you told about one night stands were— mph!" before you know it, a large hand is covering your mouth.
“listen, how about we talk about this after having some fun?” a surprisingly determined gleam shines in your boyfriend’s icy blue eyes, making your thighs clench together in excitement.
who were you to say no to that?
next thing you know, pillows support your back as a shirtless satoru lies directly in front of your clothed crotch, hot breath making you wiggle around impatiently.
“jus— just take it off me, toru. so damn slow—“
“baby,” he scolds, looking genuinely upset, “this is my first time seeing a pussy in real life and you’re ruining it with your lack of patience.”
you can only roll your eyes and groan, head flopping back against the cushions in boredom. there was no way to predict how satoru’s first time would go, but you never expected it’d be this agonizing on your end — nor that he’d be so bossy.
though luckily, after another deep breath, your panties are gently tugged down your legs, and satoru can only inhale as he watches your poor hole clench around nothing. it only made sense that after all that dry humping and making out that your neediness increased, and it didn’t help that you could clearly see the way satoru was not only rock hard, but much bigger than average through his grey sweats.
“ooh.. oh shit..” like the invasive pervert he is, satoru moves even closer to the point where your thighs rest on his muscular shoulders before taking two fingers to spread your lips apart. this way, he has a clear view of the place that needs him most, and it makes a furious blush blossom on your cheeks.
“s— satoru.. what are you doing?” now you felt like the virgin, desperately attempting to shut your legs with no avail. damn this big idiot and his strength.
suddenly, his piercing eyes snap up to you, a feral look in his gaze. “shit, how’m i gonna fit in this little hole?”
you can’t deny the way his dirty words does something to you — not that you’d ever admit it. “that’s why you gotta prep me, toru. y’know..” you gulp, “fingering, or like.. eating me out.”
in response, you get a cheshire grin. “sounds fun. show me how you do it, sweets.”
“w-what?”
satoru leans back, attemping to hold in a mischievous smile. “how else am i gonna learn?”
even masturbating alone makes you flush in slight embarassment, so doing it in front of someone else — your cheeky, shamleess boyfriend no less — had you drowning in nerves. the bigger problem was that his words held a strong point; you’re supposed to be teaching him for his first time and ensuring it’s as enjoyable as possible.
these reminders make you mumble out a gentle fine, breath stuttering as you spread your legs further for the man in front of you.
satoru is now resting his weight on the palms of his hands, looking laid back and relaxed, but evidently still focused at the way your fingers move to unclasp your bra with skill. “damn..” as your tits are freed, he finds himself needing to adjust his sweatpants and nearly letting out a pathetic noise you would definitely tease him for.
you gulp, trying to ignore his blatant gawking. “it’s good to.. y’know, tease a bit before getting straight to it. makes it feel better — for me, at least,” you explain while massaging your chest, hiding surprise at the way he sternly nods in understanding.
now that you think about it, something tells you this is the most focused satoru has ever been in a learning environment.
after a bit more pinching and fondling, your hands slide down to your stomach and thighs, trying to get your breathing to relax. having gojo watch you do something so private was.. surreal, but you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet before, if that meant anything.
once you finally move down to your most intimate part, satoru takes a deep breath. he watches as you use your fingers to reveal a small bundle of nerves, pulsing and desperate for attention. “this is the clit, toru. s’very important.”
his eyes light up. “oh, i know that one!” he announces proudly, “i remember suguru saying i have to.. uh, worship it or something.”
you snicker at the thought of geto giving out sex pointers. “mhm, sometimes penetration isn’t enough, so you need to give it attention or i can’t really finish.”
gently, you start massaging the bud in circles, humming at the feeling of finally getting some type of relief. you move down to your hole to collect some of your wetness before bringing it back up, letting out a moan in satisfaction.
the way satoru licks his lips as you finally plunge a finger into your wetness has you shivering, but you remind yourself that for now, this was simply a demonstration and that you’d get a taste of him later.
after adding another, you attempt to reach your sweet spot by curling upwards, but it seems that even your hopelessly inexperienced boyfriend could tell that it was getting nowhere.
“aw,” he pouts teasingly, “lil’ fingers can’t reach anything, huh?”
“shut— shut up, satoru.”
before you know it, he’s moved onto his stomach again, face to face with your pussy and gripping your now soaked fingers. “you use these pathetic things when y’masturbate, huh? imagining my dick while having such tiny fingers up your cunt? kinda offended, babe..”
you feel your tummy flip, where did he learn to talk like that?
“do you have to be so vulg—“ you’re cut off by a choking gasp as a warm, wet muscle licks a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit.
“thanks for the lesson. ‘think i got it from here,” is all satoru says before he’s diving in, slurping up as much of your essence as possible before latching his plush lips right onto your poor little clit.
you can’t help but wiggle around at the jump in stimulation, but that only lasts about five seconds before a muscular arm presses you firmly against the mattress, rendering you trapped and unable to escape to his ministrations.
“hey, slow down!” your words are coincidentally yelped out right as he wiggles a much bigger finger into you. it explores your insides eagerly, caressing and feeling up what satoru believes will be his new favourite place.
“wow..” sluuurp, “so warm n’ soft in here..” he happily mumbles against your pussy. the vibrations of his now deeper voice shoot through you like electricity, eliciting another choked whine from your throat.
it felt like he was just toying with you; looking way too content drinking up everything you offered, fluid rushing down his chin and nose pushed firmly against your pelvis to inhale your scent.
suddenly, he’s jabbing his fingertip right into that pocket of sunshine that makes your eyes roll back, a loud whimper leaving your throat before you could stop it. “satoru, right there!” he swiftly seperates from your clit just to mumble out a here? in confirmation, prodding your sweet spot over and over in record breaking speed.
when you nod, he grins smugly, now adding another finger to stretch you further. “mmmph, this is pretty fun. could lie here all night.”
luckily, you barely process his words, much too busy enjoying the best finger-fuck of your life — and this was only his first time, you remember, what will the bastard do to you once he’s got some practice in?
a shaking hand tumbles into his snowy locks, attempting to pull him back weakly. “wait, m’gonna cum, toru—“
gojo growls almost animalistically, tugging your hand back onto the sheets. “then fuckin’ do it,” he demands. “c’mon, i’ve earned it, right?” then, he sucks even harder, fingers slamming and curling and making the loudest squelch you’ve ever heard.
“see?” he continues, “lil’ cunt wants to cum so bad for me. knows who 'er owner is already.” his filthy words definitely take part in the way your orgasm hits like a train, body shaking and toes curling as you let the feeling of bliss take over you. you flinch at how swiftly his tongue licks up everything you give him, the fingers in his hair tugging harder in overstimulation.
“toruuuuu..”
he simpers, tasting his cum-covered lips. “yeeees?”
“this— this is your first time, i should be making you feel good.”
slowly but surely, your eyes reopen, meeting your boyfriend’s relaxed gaze as he rubs your thigh affectionately. “dunno what you’re talking about, i felt pretty good just now.” when you only pout further, he snickers, pushing some of his bangs back smoothly. “c’mon, there’s lots of time for you to get me off later. m’ too excited for the main event..”
at last, he reaches for his sweatpants, more than excited to tug them down and finally give his aching cock some freedom. satoru doesn’t think he’s ever had a more painful boner in his life, but it was all worth seeing you release all over his tongue and fingers.
right as he finishes untying the knot, pale fingers drifting up to the waistband, you’re smacking him away to make room for your own hands. he watches with an open mouth as you pull his boxers down along with his pants, leaky, hard cock springing free and nearly hitting you in the face.
shit, of course his dick is perfect too. with a bit of white hair at the base, bulging veins adorned the entirety of his massive length, and the tip — shit, the tip was even bigger than the rest, mushroom shaped and angry red. his balls looked equally agitated and full — the epitome of breeder balls, and you gulped at the thought of him filling you up with everything they had.
now his question from earlier made sense, and he seems to be enjoying the realization on your face from his spot kneeling on the bed. “like what’cha see?” he coos, one big hand lowering to relieve the aching in his balls.
“toru, i don’t know if you’ll even fit. why— why do you have to be so big?” it’s annoying, you want to say — but the white-haired man has already laid back and manhandled you onto his chiseled stomach, a yelp escaping you at his suddenness.
he’s smiling so hard at your little dilemma that it’s almost sick, hands resting behind his head cockily. “tell me more while you ride me, baby.”
after processing that all you’ve been doing is feeding his size kink and inflating his already massive ego, you frown. “i’m serious, toru!”
“what!? i’m serious too!” the man defends with fake innocence, blue eyes shining in glee. “you’re the expert here, remember? ‘supposed to be teaching me how it’s done.”
all you do is grumble whilst moving down to sit between the sorcerer’s thighs, lightly prepping him with your fist and a dribble of spit from your mouth that has the white-haired male biting his lip. “fuck..” satoru can’t recall how many times he’s masturbated to the mental image of this exact moment, but now that it was finally happening, he promised himself to savor it as much as possible.
when you move to finally straddle him, hole hovering just above his length, he begins bucking his hips up desperately. “hurryyy…”
“are you in heat or something?” you snort, giving him a dirty glare as if you weren’t about to let him inside you.
“for you? yeah.” satoru offers you a cheesy wink and grin that dissipates the second your warmth encloses his aching tip. his hands slowly move up to grip your waist, jaw clenching in an attempt to not slam you down to his balls right then.
“ngh… fuuuck, baby,” he groans as you ever so carefully move down another inch. “jesus.. you’re sooo damn tight. dunno’ how you’re even taking me..”
you squeeze your eyes shut in attempt to bare the discomfort for him, a slight crease growing between your brows. “satoru, fuck— hurts..” he immediately reopens his eyes in worry, searching for a way to take your pain away.
yes, he could already tell that he enjoyed being meaner with you in bed — but it’s never fun if you don’t feel good as well. though he luckily recalls your lesson from earlier, moving a soft thumb down to massage your clit in tight circles.
when you jolt and nearly faceplant into his neck, he only grins proudly, now using one veiny hand to help push you further onto him. “theeere we go.. aw, feel better?”
“mhm, feels full..” you mumble back, looking down to see that you — unbelievably — still had a couple inches to go.
satoru feels like he’s about to burst on the other hand, thriving in pure ecstasy at the feeling of your walls massaging him just perfectly. he can’t help but thrust up and force his last inches inside you, an echoing smack! of skin against skin singing through the room and eliciting a startled yelp from your throat.
“toru!” despite your scolding, you can’t deny the perfection in which his tip kissed your g-spot effortlessly. his hands felt ever so soothing, comfortingly running up and down as you sat impaled on his cock, wiggling around to get comfortable and ruining him in the process.
just as you start to adjust, you feel yourself being lifted up. “m’ sorry sweets..” gojo suddenly voices, “i can’t..”
“huh? what do you m—ah!” you’re flipped onto your back before you know it, knees resting on the shoulders of your boyfriend who has a gleam in his pupils that you’ve quite frankly never seen before; he looked feral.
satoru carefully pulls out until only his tip is encased in your warmth, and everything is calm for a moment. you both take a deep breath, and he smiles down at your already fucked-out face with pride. “satoru—“
then he’s pushing back in with all the strength his massive hips can produce, and you think if it weren’t for his hands wrapped around your thighs, you would’ve got pushed off the bed entirely. you unintentionally let out the loudest sound of the night, and this sets him off.
now he was getting brutal, bullying your cunt with hit after hit against the spot that has drool dripping down your cheek and eyes crossing. you can’t even stop the pathetic noises and symphonies of right there! that leave your lips, no matter how hot your cheeks flush in embarrassment. it felt as though every time his dick jabbed back in he was right up in your tummy, veins pulsing and ensuring your pussy is molded to the perfect sleeve for him.
“toru, shit— nghh, faster, please! feels s’good!”
“nghh, toru, faster! ahaha..” he mocks you — of course he does, but picks up the pace nonetheless — now holding your lower body up so that your knees dangle higher over his shoulders and each stroke is angled exactly where you want him. “so cute when you’re gettin’ stuffed full, baby.”
he leers as you send him the harshest expression you can manage, reaching down for your clit and giggling as you start squirming in an attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure. this bastard is having way too much fun, you realize, moans being forced out of you almost tauntingly.
tonight you discover that satoru’s way of fucking is rather animalistic, frantic, thrilling, and with the sole purpose of making you both feel as good as possible. if you want him to go slow or make love to you, you’d probably have to ask beforehand — or perhaps tie him up so you could have your fun in peace.
if your insides weren’t being rearranged, you’d grin at the thought of your boyfriend restrained and at your mercy. another night, you promise yourself.
“tightest pussy ever f’my first time baby.. haah.. can’t believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.” for once, something praising comes out of his big mouth, breathes getting cut short every time you involuntarily squeeze him harder. he swears there’s no better feeling then what you were giving him right now, not even singlehandedly resurrecting himself using the reversed curse technique.
and while no injuries have ever left a scar on gojo satoru, he decides that the claw marks you’re ruthlessly digging into his back will stay as long as his body allows — why should he hide how good he’s made you feel despite being a virgin an hour prior?
maybe if he’s in the mood to brag, he’ll show them to suguru later.
“feels good toru, fuckin’ me so good,” you feel the way his whole body reacts to your praises, a deep growl melting from his lips as the sounds of skin slapping increasingly grows in volume.
“babyyy,” he pants, legs being held higher while he digs deeper into your guts, “m’gonna cum.. need you to cum with me.“ the twitching of his length inside you gave away the fact that gojo has practically been on the edge ever since he pushed into you — and while he knows it’s completely normal to cum prematurely on your first time, when has he ever not gone above expectations?
in a split second you’re flipped onto your hands and knees, veiny hands pushing you into a deep arch while your boyfriend gives his body a moment to relax, pinching his base (a rather perverted method he’s learned by edging himself while masturbating) between his thumb and pointer.
when you needily wiggle your hips in an attempt to find his cock again, he grins boyishly. “lookin’ for this?” he sings the words right before plunging his entire length back into you, abusing your g-spot while a lanky finger impressively finds the bud between your legs right away (a skill that most ‘experienced’ men you’ve previously been with fail to achieve), circling and pinching in a frantic attempt to make your orgasms arrive in sync.
“fucking hell.." you whine, the new angle making his tip bump against spots that have never been rubbed before. “can feel you so deep..”
“oh yeah?” his bicep pulls you up so your head rests on his broad shoulder, now victim to the filth being whispered directly into your ear. “m’ i doing good? fuckin’ this lil’ pussy nice and deep like she needs?”
when you nod, he beams like a maniac, seemingly encouraged to pound you even harder as his hips pick up the pace. “damn, ‘think i’m already a pro at this, huh?”
for the sake of your sanity, you ignore his bragging. “toru, don’t stop. i’m— i’m gonna..”
“you’re gonnaaa?” he derides, kissing the corner of your lip sweetly. “tell me, baby.”
“gonna cum for you, please.” satoru almost decides to fill you up at those words, but his self control is just a bit stronger. he feels the way your cunt is pulsing, body practically shaking as you get closer and closer to release, and he’s determined to help you reach it.
his thrusts get a bit sloppier, and you’re too busy basking in your own pleasure to see the eye-candy that is gojo biting his swollen lips, sweat dripping down his temples all the way to his solid abs, snowy bangs a tad bit moist against his forehead. he looked like the definition of temptation; straight out of a wet dream with stamina that seemingly never declined.
“me too, baby. c’mon, cum on this dick. s’all yours to ruin.”
you moan as you allow yourself to let go, toes curling and nails digging into his toned forearms ecstatically. “thaaat’s it, good girl.. ahah.. such a good girl f’me.” he talks you through it as if he’s done so a million times, both of you looking down to watch your release coat his dick and the crumpled sheets below.
at his praise, you squeeze him just a bit tighter, making his lips curl up in interest. “my girl likes being praised, huh? yeah.. doing so good makin’ a mess on me..”
he pulls out, carefully lowering you to the mattress before tugging on his dick in hopes of reaching his own peak. satoru forces himself to open his eyes just enough to admire the view of you fucked out below him, body shaking slightly as you recover from the intense waves of your orgasm.
“y/n,” he abruptly whines, patting your shoulder with a subtle urgency in his voice.
“..mhmm?”
“where can i cum? quick baby— please, i’ve been holding this for way too long—“ this has your body moving, eyes popping open as you swiftly bend down so your mouth hovers directly in front of him.
you replace his fist with yours as soft lips move to suckle harsly on his leaking tip, and now it’s gojo who has his eyes rolling back; whimpers flying out of his throat every time your tongue massages the delicate underside, sending visible shocks through his body. “fuck!” he can only curse and run his fingers through your hair for support while you pump him dry. “just like that, good.. haah.. good fuckin’ girl, shiiit.”
you’ve never seen your boyfriend — the strongest — look so pathetic and desperate, but it only spurs you on further, enjoying the way he continues to blabber about how pretty you are and how he’s gonna fill your mouth like he would your pussy. in response, you greedily hum around him, licking through his slit as if you were pleading the little hole to give you what you deserved.
and only moments later, satoru’s words become reality; though he attempts to keep revelling in the feeling of your warm lips and hands, his body stills in place instinctively, one last warning tumbling out of his throat as your mouth is flooded with rope after rope of bitterly sweet fluid.
it seems like your accusations about his breeder balls were correct, because once it starts it seemingly never ends; cum now overflowing from the corners of your lips as you struggle to swallow frequently enough to not choke on how much he deposits.
meanwhile, gojo feels like he is quite literally ascending, everything becoming unimportant next to you and the feeling of pleasure being forced through him like an overwhelming earthquake, pulse after pulse as you suck him for all he’s worth.
“thas’ right.. take every damn drop, baby.” when satoru looks down and earns a glimpse of the white fluid trickling down your chin, his dick twitches in your mouth. “god, you’re so sexy..”
once he was done, you both flop onto the bed in exhaustion, and while the vulnerable moment has utmost potential to become something cute and memorable, a certain blue-eyed bastard decides to open his mouth once again.
“what’re you huffin’ and puffin’ for?” he sasses, shamelessly eyeing the way your tits rose and fell with every breath you took. “all you did was lie there while i had a full body workout!”
you take a very deep breath. “i just let you put your dick inside me. shut the fuck up.”
at your reminder of what’d just occurred, he grins like an idiot. “you’re right, thank you.” they’re soft, but he ensures his words are as audible and genuine as he can make them.
satoru isn’t exactly the best with words, but he knows damn well that — despite all the bullshit he'd spouted at those parties — you’re the only person he wanted to have his first time with, and the fact that you allowed his wish to become reality is something he’ll forever be grateful for.
“i love you..” you soften. “even if you’re a pillow princess.” you stiffen again.
nothing could stay lovey-dovey with him for too long.
a fake cry is pulled from his lips as you rudely smack his shoulder. “i tried to ride you but you flipped me over after ten seconds!”
“it’s not my fault you're as slow as a fuckin' snail!”
somehow, you both make it to the washroom despite all the banter. just as you bend over in hopes of starting the shower up, a mean spank is delivered to your ass.
when you turn to meet the culprit, he only narrows his eyes at you playfully. “round two, m’lady?” it’s almost like his voice lowers on purpose, dirty words rumbling in his throat, knowing what it did to your body.
you do your best to send him a disappointed glance anyway. “day one of not being a virgin and you’re already the horniest man i know.”
after following you inside, his fluffy hair flattens from the steamy water before nudging you back, encasing you between him and the solid wall.
“i might be willing to overlook the fact that you know other horny men if you agree to some very loving, extremely intimate making out,” he requests with a smirk, sleek nose poking yours in a much gentler way than expected.
you still send him a distrusting raise of your brow. “only making out, huh?”
the dirty smirk he sends you is all you need to know, along with his hardened dick pressing against your thigh as he moves in to kiss you.
what have you gotten yourself into?
Tumblr media
mlist! gojo showing off his back scratches! <- if you enjoy silly virgin gojo pls lmk in the reblogs, comments, or asks <3
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
tags: @gojoallmine @allofffmypeaches @haitaniholic @pandoraium
8K notes · View notes
gamblersdoll · 2 months
Text
tw: size kink, sex talk.
when sukuna sees you for the first time as his true form, hes even more in love. he has to look down or even crouch down to your height and is still barely eye level. his arms suffocate you, and his hand is bigger than yours.
hes been waiting for this, holy fuck. he cant get over how small and beautiful you are. he only wondered how strong you could be now? can you even land a single blow on him?
eventually, you did, while using his OWN weapon? how you managed to do that, hes amazed. and youre overtop of him and hes finally healed, but he is still so intrigued by how you are able to do it with his state now.
“you truly are worth my time!” he laughs maniacally, smushing you face in his larger hand. hes so much bigger than you too, that hadnt left his mind during the whole fight, probably why he slightly even doubted you– never again.
so now hes got you in a compromised state, two arms on your hips and two arms on your shoulders. he barely got the tip in, you somewhat suck him in, and hes just… in awe.
your body is just astonishing to him, and hes grinning ear to ear.
“hoo fuck!” hes growling, is he even human? hes not, and he spits a fat glob on your pretty cunt. thats what does it for you, and hes able to get about halfway inside you, your tummy bulging and he sees the outline of his fat dick, dont even remind yourself about the second dick you may have to take either in your cunt or your ass. and thats a whole new level.
hes head over heels, over the moon, debating on would he allow you to boss him around for taking him? your almost at the base of his dick, and what sounds like degradation is him praising you.
“youre such a fucken whore! look at you, takin all of me!”
“im gonna have to be so so gentle, or i might just fuck up your uterus..”
and he’s going so slow as he can, (newsflash, its barely slow!) and youre biting your lip as it slightly hurts because of the sudden stretch, although having experience. hes wiping your tears with his tongue, kissing your cheeks as his belly mouth is eating and lapping up your clit as hes balls deep, so you have some type of lube.
hes laying on top of you after having a strangled climax, only making sure he pulls out and nuts on your tits (he doesnt believe you should take his cum yet, you could barely take a few strokes.) and hes overwhelming.
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clan-ackerman · 1 month
Text
-----mdni-----
------18+-----
🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸
Human!Alastor x f!reader
blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot
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Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.
"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.
"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.
"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:
"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."
"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.
"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.
"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.
"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."
"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.
"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:
"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."
You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.
"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:
"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.
"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.
"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.
"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.
"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.
"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.
With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.
"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"
Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.
Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.
When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.
You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.
"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.
"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.
"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.
"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.
"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.
"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.
Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.
"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:
"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.
With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.
"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.
"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.
"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."
"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.
"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,
"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.
"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.
"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.
"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.
You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.
It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.
His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.
"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.
"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.
"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.
He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.
"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.
"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.
"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.
It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.
His fingers deftly slid through your slit.
"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.
"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.
"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.
"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.
"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.
"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:
"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.
Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:
"I want you and you alone."
His smile against your neck was almost infectious.
"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:
"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:
"A-Alastor..."
When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.
"Tell me."
"One."
"How far?"
You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.
"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.
"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.
"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.
"Understood?"
You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.
"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.
"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.
"That will hurt." He looked up at you.
"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.
"...where...?" He quietly inquired.
God, please, everywhere.
"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.
"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.
"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.
"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.
"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.
"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.
"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.
"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.
"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.
"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.
"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.
"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.
Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.
Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.
When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.
"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.
"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.
Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?
In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.
"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.
"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.
"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.
"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.
"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.
You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.
"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.
With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.
"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.
Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.
Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.
"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.
Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.
The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.
You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:
"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.
"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.
"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.
"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.
"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.
With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.
"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.
He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.
Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.
Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.
"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.
Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.
For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.
Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.
"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.
"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.
Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.
"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.
"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.
You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.
"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.
"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.
"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.
"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.
As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.
Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.
You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....
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Part 2?
2K notes · View notes
radiance1 · 4 months
Text
@puppetmaster13u You called Danny a space whale in the tags of one of this post.
Now what if that was literal?
Hear me out, Danny outlives his friends, parents, sister. Danny becomes a literal whale.
Well, not a literal one because he's a ghost, but he takes the shape one of at the very least. He's just a giant, glowing white whale that looks pretty divine not going to lie.
Danny leaves earth. It wasn't safe for him anymore, what with the GIW and all that as even the ghosts found it not even worth anymore to visit the mortal world.
Except for Desiree and Spectra, but that's besides the point.
But Danny doesn't retreat to the zone, he's always longed for space, but because of his new half humanness he doesn't get believe he could've ever gone because, well. Yea.
But Danny goes fuck it and goes anyway. His form shifts from human to that of a giant whale, and he swims out into the vastness of space.
Years pass, and Danny does start getting bigger as he aged. He explored the vastness of space, marveling at many things, the different planets, the stars, the formations of rock and other things.
Then he encounters someone he never though he would've.
Vlad.
Well, he knew Vlad was left behind in space by his father but he didn't think he would find him again and Vlad seemed... different, from what he remembered.
For one thing, he didn't even know where Vlad began and space ended. He got only see those red eyes that even hinted at it being the man. His body was void black and filled with stars upon stars, all glittering from his body and Vlad barely even seemed to notice him, or if he did, he didn't seem to care at all.
So, Danny took him.
He was both curious and felt a bit bad about what happened to Vlad, even if he didn't know exactly what happened, and he couldn't just leave him there either.
So on his back Vlad went, and his travels continued.
It seemed to be the correct decision, really, because slowly overtime Vlad seemed to be regaining his awareness. Then slowly, tentatively, started to speak with him through ghost speak.
Vlad only seemed to vaguely remember what he was before space. He remembered hating a man, loving a woman, wanting a son, loneliness and a boy with white hair and toxic green eyes.
Even though Vlad was his former enemy, his nemesis, and someone who took the world hostage.
He couldn't help but feel pity for him.
Then their travels continued.
Years pass unnoticed, when in space, with Danny slowly getting bigger and bigger as the two travel throughout. They've come into contact with various civilizations, some hostile, some peaceful, some neutral.
The hostile ones never lasted long, even if Danny never lifted a flipper to do anything most of the time, Vlad made sure of it.
They came at went as they pleased, and Danny believes that they've gained a bit of a reputations over their adventures, but neither he nor Vlad knew exactly what they said. It did prove useful in some cases, however.
A few more years, and Danny feels that this system is vaguely familiar. Which happens sometimes, considering he's been travelling for so long. He then finds out why it was so familiar.
He came across Earth and, oh. When was the Earth so small?
Well, not small really, but when was he just only a bit smaller than it?
Did it shrink when he was away? Or did he just grow?
That doesn't matter though. What does, is the fact that currently seemed to be an invasion going on, on his home planet thank you very much. He did not like the fact that there was a massive fleet parked right outside his home.
So he spoke to Vlad, expressed his displeasure, Vlad responded back knowingly and went off to make the source of his displeasure disappear. That doesn't Danny was idle either, the fleet was big and, well.
It's been a while since he's stretched himself in a fight.
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snaileer · 5 months
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Wrong Number? Wrong Answer.
It was the usual deal that the Justice League Dark dealt with… way too often honestly.
Initially, it had been just Wonder Woman, investigating a cult that had attempted to abduct her earlier in the month.
Diana had defeated them. Easily. Of course. But upon questioning them, their reasoning had concerned her.
They had attacked her for a ritual to open the ‘Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep’, a ritual which required ‘a blade blackened by the ichor of time.’
Once again, she was being targeted for her parentage. Did it ever end?
Of course, she questioned them further, what other ingredients did they need, what artifacts they would be hurting others to create.
A ring carved from the bone of an unfreed slave.
A crown made of lava untouched by human hands.
And sand directly from the pouch of Dream of the Endless themself.
It was an eclectic collection of items.
And yet, they had told her that only the blade remained to be created.
Again, it was concerning.
So Diana left the fools to be taken care of by men’s authorities, and focused on tracking down just what they were doing and if necessary, how to stop it.
After depleting her academic resources, and her connections within with nothing to show, Diana finally called in her friend through the league, Zatanna.
Zatanna had been frazzled by it, showing up in her living room before they’d even finished the call.
Together they tracked down the cult to Gotham… which was also a problem.
It was the reason why Diana was running through the caves beneath the crime ridden city with one of her closest friends in men’s world and a magician by her side.
All too quickly, they were surrounded by fanatics, each carrying sharp blades solely focused on her.
Working in sync with Batman and Zatanna throwing spells above them, Diana believed it would be a well-won battle.
Until a golden light flashed across the cave, blinding her for a precious second as she felt a sharp sting cut across her arm.
When her vision cleared, her arm was dripping blood and John Constantine stood in front of her.
“Sorry about that, love,” Constantine smirks, “No harm done?”
Diana’s teeth grind together as she turns away from him, fighting her way through more followers. The one who had injured her is nowhere to be seen, and the blade with them.
Even once the rest of the swarm is beaten, their numbers no longer being replenished, Diana does not feel content. The sense of danger lingers.
“Constantine.” Batman growls, “What are you doing in Gotham?”
The Brit rolls his eyes as he lights a new cigarette, “You know I don’t actually have to tell you every time I enter the city right? But besides, that’s news to me, portals are a tricky business, I’m tracking my own problem.”
Batman glares at him.
“Someone stole from me mate. And whatever they stole it for can’t be good, so I’m here ta get it back. Thought you’d be proud of something like that, Batsy, insteada leavin’ it for someone else?”
Batman’s eyes darken, “We’re tracking a group trying to open the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep, is your artifact related to that?”
“Fucking shit it is yeah! Bollocks I didn’t think they’d be using the dream sand for something like that, what sort of mannies are these?!” Constantine exclaims, hastily grinding his cigarette beneath his shoe.
“Hn.”
Suddenly, there’s a rattling boom, the ground and walls shaking around them as dust rains down and they are all forced into stabilizing stances.
They barely share a glance before all three are running down the hall to the source, Constantine left scrambling to keep up.
The scene they come to is equal parts confusing as it is problematic.
The cultists are each in states of disrepair, crusting on the edges or yelling at their leader. The leader is the first to notice their arrival.
“You! You say you are a child of Zeus and yet your blood does not work! You lie of your ancestry!”
Diana steps forward, “I do not! I am the daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus, grandchild of Kronos! The fault of your magic does not lie with me!”
The leaders face twists, mouth open to shout, but a flash of gold slams into him.
“Z, the book!” Constantine yells, arms outstretched as he flings more spells at the surrounding people, glowing ropes binding each.
“On it! Etativel em dna eht koob!” Zatanna shouts, lifting into the air as a book the leader had been holding flies into her hands.
Immediately she begins turning pages with desperation, “Wohs em eht stsitluc lleps!”
The book flips to a distinct page, and Zatanna’s face drains of color.
“Batman, we need to be careful, this spell looks legitimate, we might still have a risk on our hands.”
Batman hummed, looking at the chalk lines of the summoning circle drawn out before them, drawing Diana to do the same. Looking closely at the artifacts placed at each cardinal direction, including a short dagger with her blood nearly completely dry on the flat of the blade.
Batman moves towards the gathered and bound cultists as both magicians whisper over the spell.
Diana continues to look out on the evidence of the ritual, confusion warring in her.
She lays a hand on the lasso at her side. She knew she had not been lying about her heritage, so then why….
‘A blade blackened by the ichor of time.’
She looks at the bloodied dagger once more. It didn’t make sense, even if they had managed to harm a godly descendent, pure ichor would be gold; and even her blood was simply a humanly deep crimson red, not black; not until it-
Diana lunges towards the knife, fingertips brushing its hilt just as her blood dries a flaky black.
Her body slams into the cave walls in the next second, percussive force rippling through the air.
She crumples to the ground, struggling to lift her head.
White boots pass in front of her eyes.
She watches as they move towards her colleague, her friend, only to be surprised as they stop in front of the cultists instead.
As the air returns to her body, Diana lifts herself up, shaking arms supporting her as the weight of the atmosphere presses down.
She looks at the being, the sight almost making her collapse once more.
Mist curls around its form like a mountain peak, iridescent light glowing near its head, pitch black night covering its body, the pinprick of stars so small you can’t see them straight on, claws like a falcon’s beak: unhidden and meant to tear apart. And more importantly, wrapped around the leaders neck.
““̵̨̮̣̀͊̓Y̷͖̊̒o̸̤͈͍͌̈́͘u̶̗̭̲̍ ̵̬̤̞̀̑ā̴̟r̸̹̝̉e̴̞̦̮͑̍ ̴̣̩̖͑̓͛a̷̮̞͍͊͆͝ ̶͍̀̈́́f̷̖̄ò̸͈̓͝ǫ̷̅̀̔l̶̹̥̹̋͌͠.̴̤̲̈́͋̀”̶̛̫̺̈́”
The voice rattles her heart within her chest. She watches as Batman continues to try and stand.
The cultist struggles against the hand, mumbling screams behind Constantine’s bind. The creature tears it off with one claw.
“We summ-moned-… the king! Pa-pariah-!“
The creatures hand barely twitches, but the cultist breaks off in a scream. She is surprised to note the other cultists react exactly alike. As if linked.
“̵̻͝Ý̷͚o̶͈͝u̷̦̐ ̶̆͜d̶͈̄ǐ̸̢d̵̲̓ ̴͖̽n̴̘̅ȯ̸͍t̵̛̯ ̴̫̐ŝ̵̗u̴̹̇m̶̨͠m̴̡̽o̴̱̐n̵̘͝ ̴̪̈h̴̨̀i̶͝ͅm̸̰͗.̴͍͆”̸͔̔ The creature growls, “À̴̳n̸̛̜d̶͒ͅ ̴̤̃y̸̬͝ǫ̸̒u̵̫͗ ̶̘͛a̴̫̐r̷̠̈e̶͂ͅ ̶͔̋ḽ̶̔ủ̷͜c̷̥̍k̴̲͊ÿ̸̯́ ̶͓́f̷͇͝o̷͎͒ŕ̴͇ ̶͔͝t̶̞̀h̸̲̉ȧ̸̮t̷̩͝.̷͔̍ ̵͙͐I̸͎͌f̶͖͛ ̶̜̇y̵̜͗o̴̩̍ṵ̶͆ ̵̫̈́h̴͛ͅā̴̼d̸̤͆…̵͍̈́i̵͍̐t̸̡̉ ̴̭͂w̷̥̔o̷̟̅u̴̪͂l̸̞̏d̵͚̀ ̵͓̃b̴̢̽e̵̗͠ ̸͕̉m̸̠͆u̶̖͘c̷̯͘h̴̤̎ ̸̥́w̷͚͝o̸͐ͅr̶̦͐s̵̨̿e̸͕͆ ̸̙̑f̴̧̂o̶̱̓ȓ̷̟ ̴̠͗ÿ̸̥́ö̵͜ŭ̶̟.̵͎̉”̶͍̀
The man whimpers under the claws.
"I̴n̷s̵t̴e̷a̵d̸,̶ ̵y̸o̷u̵ ̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷m̸e̸,̴I̴ ̶g̵u̸a̷r̶d̴ ̶h̶i̷s̵ ̶p̸r̸i̵s̵o̵n̶ ̶b̶e̷c̴a̷u̴s̶e̸ ̵I w̴a̸s̴ ̵t̴h̸e̷ ̸o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̸o̶ ̶p̵u̴t̵ ̴h̸i̴m̶ ̵t̴h̷e̸r̶e̴ ̵o̶n̵c̸e̵ ̶m̶o̸r̸e̸.̵”̴ The creature leans into the cultist, arching ever higher, angles sharpening, body distorting, "“̸̝͋a̵̱͋n̶͓͛d̵̘́ ̵̡̍f̷̱͊o̵͚̓r̷̪̎ ̴̭̑a̷̬̓s̷͙̅ ̷͍͌ĺ̵̫o̸̻͆ņ̵̀g̶̚ͅ ̷̬͌a̶̮̿s̵̩͊ ̸̫̌t̸̲̕h̸̢̉e̷̖͗ ̴̰̋c̸̹̀ȍ̸͎s̷̡̃m̵̥̍o̷̜͋s̷̗͐ ̴̜͆e̷̛̙x̸͓̑i̶͉̿s̸̹̀t̵̛̺,̴̡͠Í̷̢ ̷̣̽w̵̠͋i̶̺͒l̴̠͐l̸̮̃ ̴͍͌k̴̰̑e̸̠͐e̷̟͋p̵̲̏ ̸̙̂h̷̘͋ị̸́m̸͕̚ ̶̳̋t̶̡̒h̷̩͆e̷̪͝r̷̒͜e̵̡̔.̵̭͗”̵̮̔
There’s a dull flash as light flashes beneath the cultists skin, beneath all of the cultist’s skin, before they drop to the ground unconscious.
All too quickly, air returns to the room, pressure lifting like a deep breath into the room.
The creature turns, eyes meeting Diana’s for just a second as he turns towards the chalked lines of the circle. Diana lifts herself to her feet, drawing closer to Batman as they both watch him, hesitant.
On the other side of the room, Constantine and Zatanna also struggle to their feet, eyes filled with fear and caution as they take in the scene.
As the creature moves, mist still rolling off him in waves, his features fall away with it, gradually smoothing to a more human visage. It looks… young. Boyish.
Those same white boots crush down on the formed crown, the cooled lava rock crumbling under one step. Next is the ring, held carefully in two hands the creature whispers over it, breathy wind carrying it away as it turns to dust. He holds the blade with one hand, flakes disintegrating off as he lifts it.
Diana’s arm tingles.
Then the creature is standing in front of the last point, holding the small brown pouch of sand with consideration.
Silence reigns in the room.
Constantine, of course, is the one to break it.
“I believe that’s mine, mate,” he cuts in, stance still laden with suspicion.
“Oh?” The creature smiles, almost mockingly as he turns to Constantine, “Is it? If I wasn’t mistaken, this ritual calls for Dream’s sand. Are you Dream of the Endless, little magician?”
Constantine visibly swallows, “I’m not.”
The creature huffs a laugh, fangs glinting in his smirk. He moves swiftly, pivoting on one foot to toss the pouch at Constantine, “Catch.”
Constantine lurches forward to try and catch it, only to find it vanish in the air before it reaches his fingers.
The creature cackles, floating backwards, “What did you do to get your hands on such an amount of Dream’s sand, magician? I’m curious.”
“It was a family present,” Constantine grinds out as he turns back to the gently levitating humanoid form, “You can drop the kid facade by the way, you’re not tricking anyone here looking like that.”
The creature shrugs, “And if I’m comfortable like this?”
Diana steps in to stop Constantine from snapping back, “Who are you, spirit, to be summoned by such a ritual?”
The creature watches her for a beat, “I am Phantom of the Dead City, Protector of infinite realms. They did not bring me here, but I knew who they wished to summon and came because of it.”
Batman steps forward, voice interrogating, “The Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep-“
“Remains sealed. The Tyrant King remains trapped and at rest, do not worry.”
Somehow Diana does not think that soothes Batman, even as a great a warrior as he is.
“Hn.”
“Now, about that spell book,” Phantom turns to Zatanna, waving a hand and the book flies to him. He hovers a hand over it, and Diana watches in fascination as the chalk on the floor begins to burn away, the drawing in the book following.
Phantom looks at her once more, eyes too wise and strong for the age of his face, and then from one moment to the next, he is gone.
The book drops to the floor with a slam, cover open to aged blank pages as the last of the sigil burns away.
Hesitantly, Constantine goes to it, the rest of them following. When Constantine lifts the book with careful hands, they watch another image fade into view on the paper.
A cool colored image of Phantom rising over a city skyline outlined in green against a deep violet sky. Even on paper, his visage shifts constantly between the boyish figure and the ethereal danger of the form he’d appeared in.
Beneath the city lays a large coffin covered in chains.
The lock glows a pulsing toxic green before fading to a steely gunmetal grey and going still.
“Well that was the best encounter I’ve had with a dangerous dimensional figure and I still lost the dream sand.”
Zatanna’s slap echoes in the cave.
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
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Someone sent this to my inbox but
Simon X Uniform kink!reader🥴🩷
nsfw below the cut 💕 mdni
Normally, when Simon gets home, his first port of call is stripping off his balaclava, changing from his uniform. He leaves Ghost at the door. Your quiet, peaceful home shouldn’t be tainted by the shadow of death that lingers perpetually at his back.
To him, there’s a stigma around Ghost, around his whole career, making a life out of ending others’. Ghost gets left in the threshold of your entrance hall, dropped onto the welcome home mat and replaced by Simon. To you, it’s impossible to ignore the way he looks darkening your doorstep like death incarnate, so powerful, the epitome of brute, primal human strength. He exudes such power, such masculinity. It makes you feel weak in the most wonderful way.
Just once, you find yourself pleading for him to leave his uniform on, to let Ghost in. To take away the stigma of the thing that haunts your life. With tentative agreement and a hand on the small of your back, you’re guided back to the bedroom.
You know that Ghost will be rough, not like the soft, gentle dominance of Simon - who knows that he barely has to lift a finger to have you pliant under his touch. Ghost believes in no such thing. Ghost is a killer. A violent man who has no concept of gentleness or grace. If you want Ghost to fuck you, he’ll fuck you halfway to hell and back. The way you’re thrown down onto the bed is only a testament to how unyielding Ghost is, shredding your panties with his teeth without a word, just a growl of agreement when he sees you glistening wet.
There’s no warning when he plunges two fingers into your glistening pussy, his nails digging into the curve of your side when you cry out, a warning - a threat. He doesn’t take off his bulletproof vest, doesn’t flinch when you wrap your fingers in the velcro straps, only looking down at you with cruel knowing. Before you know it, he’s yanking down his fly, hardly bothering to pull down his jeans. He doesn’t need to. Ghost is tactical. Ghost doesn’t care for feelings.
The way his cock springs from his boxers, hard up against his abdomen, had you flinching. He makes you nervous. This Ghost is worlds away from your Simon, and it’s easy to see why people fear him so much.
You’re tempted to whine when he notches his tip against your already sensitive clit, quickly silenced by his fingers covered in your taste filling your mouth leaving you almost shamefully gagging, tears springing to your eyes.
“Been practically beggin’ me to fuck you for days now and now you’re whinin’?” He growls cruelly into your ear, his free hand finding your hip to position you. You don’t get a chance to think before his tip is thumping painfully into your cervix, leaving you crying out as you claw at his vest, his mask, anything to keep some semblance of control. He keeps a brutal pace, cruel taunts mixing with praise for how well you take him, what a perfect slut you are.
His hand pressing down slightly on the bulge in your tummy is what sends you over the edge, Simon’s brown eyes melting into stars and blinding white light as he pulls out of you, pumping his shaft and spurting ropes of hot cum on your abdomen, leaving the both of you heaving.
Ghost trickles down the shower drain along with sweat and dirt and cum, Simon washing your hair carefully as you lean your head into the crook of his neck, letting hot water pummel down your back.
“I love you. All of you.” You confess into his skin, finally content to have seen all of Simon. Not just the nice bits.
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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tw - implied non/con, extreme pet play, dehumanization, psychological/physical abuse, and unbalanced power dynamics.
commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.
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Sometimes, you really do think Suguru thinks of you as a pet.
It shouldn’t be as difficult to believe as it is. Of course you’d be less than human to him, less than equal to the god-like status he has among his followers. But, Suguru knows he’s not a god, and while you might not be the only person he claims to be superior to, you are the only one he keeps locked in a steel-barred dog crate padded only by thread-bare blankets and distant memories of what it felt like to sleep in a real bed. You’re special – albeit, not the kind of special you’d like to be. You can disregard most of his grandiose speeches about ‘complete non-sorcerer elimination’ and ‘killing off those worthless monkeys’ as the self-indulgent rambling of a deranged cult leader, but he doesn’t seem to be phoning it in when it comes to you.
He doesn’t talk to you. Communication occurs solely through blunt orders (come, sit, bark, etc.) or sweetened, syrupy baby-talk, cooed as his fingers card through your hair and pet down the length of your spine. You’re expected (something learned purely through trail and error, reward and punishment) to follow him around happily, to sit at his feet and clamber into his lap whenever his eyes find yours and he taps his thigh, that expectant smile already tugging at the corner of his lips. Depending on the day, you’re either coddled and adored like a beloved pet, allowed to walk on two legs rather than four and fed treats out of his open palm, or treated like a stray who’d wandered in off the street and refuses to leave. You do prefer the former to the latter, but it doesn’t really make that much of a difference, not if you’re being honest with yourself. Either way, you always seem to end up on your knees between his legs as he sits above you, a fist curled around your collar as he tells you to lick, puppy, lick.
Speaking of – you’re not allowed to wear clothes. You used to hate it, to steal his shirts and hide in closets, to do anything you could to salvage what little pride you had left, but it’s hard not to get used to something forced onto you so constantly. The only thing Suguru’s ever given you to wear is a simple, black, leather collar – studded with silver spikes and drawn tight enough to bite into your throat when he pulls on it, which he does often. You’re thankful he doesn’t make you wear those cutesy animal ear headbands or, god forbid, a tail, but not as thankful as you should be. As unbearable as it’d be, having him dress you up like a cat or a dog or some wide eyed, sexed-up rabbit would take the edge off. Like this, it’s harder to believe he thinks of you as an animal, as something cute and small and vulnerable that he can love and care for. It’s harder to deny that he knows you’re human – he just doesn’t see why that would ever mean you couldn’t also be his pet.
You think, when you’ve exhausted all other silver linings, that it’s (partially, at least) his excuse to keep you. You know what he does to people who aren’t like him, you’ve seen what he’s like at his worst, and you know that, if you weren’t his pet, you’d just be another non-sorcerer, another nuisance the world would be better off without. If you’re a pet, you can’t be a person, and if you’re not a person, it means he’s not going against his warped ideals when he pulls you close to his chest, when he ghosts his lips over the top of your head, when he fucks you so softly and so gently, you can almost believe he cares whether or not you enjoy it. Pets are supposed to be loved, and so he’s not doing anything wrong by loving you.
You know what would happen to you if you weren’t his pet, too, if he couldn’t make excuses for himself. You’ve seen how wide his smile can be when he comes home with blood on his clothes, how little effort it takes for him to hook his hands under your arms and carry you to his bed, already muttering about how perfect he’s going to make the world for his pretty, precious pet. You’re not allowed to leave his cramped apartment, but he talks about putting you on display for his acolytes as he ruts into you with an almost animalistic brutality, about showing all of those filthy, degenerative insects what a well-trained mutt looks like. You know that you should do more to fight back, that your humanity should be worth more to you than a few half-hearted escape attempts and the occasional pained whine, but you’ve seen see what he can do, heard about the dismembered bodies he leaves to rot in a ditch behind his temple, and—
And, no matter how much you hate him for it, no matter how much you hate yourself for it, it’s true.
When it comes down to it, you’d rather be his pet than be nothing at all.
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roturo · 6 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ CHASING THAT FEELING
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ੈ♡₊˚•. 'TILL YOU'RE MADE OF ME! gojo satoru & geto suguru (separated) ⊹˚. ♡
tags: breeding and breeding!, possesive behavior, unprotected sex, god complex, cult leader!geto suguru, crazy in love!gojo satoru, mentions of killing, mating press, overstimulation, dumbfication, tummy buldge, use of nicknames (doll, princess, love, baby, queen, house-wife), fluff if you squint your eyes to the point you can barely see. rbs & comments are appreciated! may gotten too lost writing for geto lol.
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gojo satoru
this man won’t let you chase the feeling and would give it to you in a plate made for gold. It would become too much for your own good– most of the time it happened once he came back from a long and exhausting mission he needed to take care of. he was never really in a bad mood, but this mission specifically made his eyes twitch and even raise his voice at Yuuji once he came back. 
“Can you believe those fuckers made me do that?” his voice was low, sounding almost like a demand to you, “I… I could easily snap my fingers and disappear the higher ups if I wanted to. What stops me’ I’m literally a god to them” a specific hard thrust made your eyes roll, already fucked dumb with how he was using your body, like if you were just a fuck toy made for him.
“Wouldn’t that be a better idea mhm?” a small whine came out of him when his already sensitive cock was feeling that familiar sensation that made the both of you see stars, “kill them and just stay all day fuckin’ this pussy? my pussy.” his hands gripped your hips in even a more possessive way like if you’re going to escape from him any moment. “what d’ya think so doll? make you a mommy with how much cum i would dump in you, fill you up, be my little house-wife hm?”
in less than a second he had your legs up, almost breaking you in half– his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow faster than before. you could sense your night lamp blinking and some furniture shaking– gojo couldn’t take it anymore, he was so pent up this whole week he kept imagining infinite ways to fuck you and make you pregnant so he could no longer be away from you.
“Mhmgh- this fuckin’... fuck.” with that last thrust you forgot how many times you had come in the night, thinking you really just passed out because of the overpleasure, you felt gojo’s body suddenly fall into you– heavy breathing coming out of him, “are you okay baby? this was… shit.  ‘m sorry-  guess i missed you a little too much.”
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geto suguru
he even got weirded up with himself after feeling something other than hate towards humans. but the way his heart softened each time he was you talking with mimiko and nanako made him feel that homely feeling again– he wouldn’t trust someone else to take care of them, fuck, he doesn’t even let manami  go inside his room but the he has you there inside taking not only care of those two small cute monsters but of him too.
“Ah… Shit- why i didn’t do this sooner?” there was a small bump adorning your tummy with how much cum there was inside you, each time expanding a lil more when geto’s cock filled you up again and again. “Fuckkkkk, should this be it? Make you mine? Fill you up and get you knocked up huh?” he thrusted inside you hard making you roll your eyes and fill your eyes with tears.
“I bet you would love that- All those stupid monkeys would be jealous, you’d be their queen, my queen– c’mon, tell me how much you want this baby.” his movements became slower, giving you some time to breathe and answer his question. face getting closer to yours he licked away the pleasure tears you’ve been displaying to him, “please ‘sugu- please make me yours- show those monkeys they have no chance with you, just… me” geto left a long groan at that, giving you no time to react and coming in once “atta’ girl,” that smirk appearing on his face, “i will keep fucking this pussy day and night until you’re made of me princess– ffuuckk-” you smiled at his words, cupping his face– eyes full of admiration towards to him even in this giddy state.
“fuck me until i belong to you my saviour” you whispered into his lips, before you could kiss him he answered, “I already do my love” he smiled and then kissed your lips– not in a hungry way, but in a way he could express what he couldn’t with words.
one of his hands crawled down until it met your nub of nerves, opening you eyes again to see his- “i can’t ‘sugu, s’much” -the pleasure was overwhelming, he was making sure you come dry, with no mercy he started rubbing that specific spot, making you arch your back, your pelvis touching his in the process. “the last one baby, i promise… i… i just have to make sure”
“please baby… make me a dad, make me yours, and i promise i will even kill all the remaining monkeys in this world for you to be mine too.” you chuckled at his sentence, giving a small peck on his lips “aw ‘sugu, you know that’s your purpose even before meeting me, the day i was born, i was made for you– i belonged to you.” “fuck baby, don’t say that, i’m only a god to those defenceless monkeys, you have all control over me.”
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idanceuntilidie · 5 months
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Hii! Can i request yan cheater with male reader? I really like your writing, and I also love you sm! Have a nice day 💗💗💗💗
Thank you so much I'm gonna cry, I love you too!! Sorry if this is wonky, today was a very exhausting day for me mentally. I hope you enjoy anyway <3 come again :D i made the cheater male I hope you don't mind--
Yandere Cheater x M!Reader
Requests are open
TW: yandere behaviours, breaking and enetering, slightly digusting parts including human hair and organs.
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Ciaran was quite special. Very handsome, always surrounded by people. You aren’t sure if being with him was a blessing or a curse.
He swore he was yours only, but you can’t help but feel hurt when he is flirting with someone right in front of you. There are also times where his phone blows with notifications from different people. It hurt, your heart felt like it was shattering just to be put back and destroyed again.
But the last straw was when you got a message from one of his lovers, they got a moment ofweakness, they felt bad and spilled everything out in a long message. The cherry on top were screenshots and photos of them kissing each other.
You were sure this time your heart just ceases to exist. You cried a lot that day, not ready to face Ciaran. You packed his things and left them outside of the door.
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It baffled him how you would leave him just like that, it was just a small misunderstanding. It was, he thinks, just one time thing. You got just oh so boring he couldn’t take it anymore. He still loves you! He really does.
He missed your smile, your smell, how beautiful you looked in the rising sun when you just woke up. His heart squeezes in his chest. Another night spent waiting by your door, you won’t let him in of course, but he just likes to sit there, happily humming when he sees you through your windows. It became a routine, you never called the cops on him, which means you still must like him. Hope burned in his chest, and slowly the obsession for you began.
And he will get his little boyfriend back. You don’t feel safe in your house anymore, Ciarian gave up on sitting outside of your house yes, but now you can’t stop receiving messages and calls from random numbers.
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Sometimes the caller breathes, silently stuttering your name, sometimes even moaning. Calling you his little pretty boy and shit. It made your stomach twist. You called the police many times, but at this point they just don’t believe you because of your lack of evidence. Lazy bastards. You also began receiving gifts, your favorite food, drinks, clothes that fit you perfectly. There was well, one time where your friend was over and one of these gifts appeared, with a card attached to it. A box of chocolates.
You were very tired that day, barely keeping yourself awake, you told your friend to take it. They accepted gladly, and began to eat while you went to the kitchen to make some coffee for you and them, that's when you heard a shriek and gagging sounds. You ran to your friend and saw them pulling hair out of their mouth, there was some skin attached to it. Your friend threw up soon after.
So, after that incident their gifts landed in trash. You feared what you might find out in them next. You don’t feel safe here, but you don’t have enough money to move. So like a rational person, you took another shift. The less you are home the better. It turns out you were wrong.
You came back in the middle of the night, you were practically falling asleep while standing up. You took off your shoes and headed to the kitchen for a sip of water so you can head to bed. When you turned on the light you froze in place. A beautifully wrapped heart shaped box sat on the counter waiting. You swallowed, body moving on your own. The gifts never appeared inside of your house. Hell, they are getting bolder with each gift. As you got closer to the box, a foul smell filled your senses. It was sweet, a little fruity.  Your shaking hands hovered over the opening of the box, carefully lifting up the lid.
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Your scream echoed through the house, as you fell down to the floor. Inside of the box was a human heart, carefully placed and surrounded by your favourite flowers.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, and a warm breath on your cheek.
Ciaran.
Your breath hitched, you didn’t dare to move as his bloody hands wrapped around your shaking form.
“Did you like my gift? Only the best for my boyfriend, do you forgive me now? Look how much I have done for you.” He kissed your cheek.
“I forgive you for kicking me out, I’m a better man after all of this has ended you know? Now we can be together forever.”
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sixosix · 5 months
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aether (one of the) main character(s) in hit game genshin impact hits on you.
thank u sm for beta reading @mitsies i love u and your silly comments and insightful suggestions on googledocs, wc 700, NO ONE IS ACTUALLY DEAD
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“Holy—Archons!”
Anyone would be surprised if a body materialized from thin air right in front of you, lifeless like a doll. You stare at the body, thoughts racing as fast as your heartbeat, and all the while, the man with sun threads as hair lay eerily still on the ground, eyes fluttered shut.
The man is terrifyingly beautiful, like a fallen star. A limp and unmoving fallen star, that is. Your jaw extends to the ground, terrified and—mystified? Immediately, your instincts scream at you to perform emergency measures, but—
A pixie comes barreling in from somewhere, tears running down her cheeks as she zeroes in on the presumably dead body.
“Was he your friend?” you ask quietly, mourning on her behalf. Were they siblings? The way she’s slapping his face around seems so.
“He’s not dead!” the little pixie exclaims, sniffling and shaking the apparently not-dead body.
You stare at her, perplexed. “Then why are you crying?”
“Because Paimon had to go through that trial challenge alone!”
“The what?”
Paimon huffs, slamming her tiny fists on the man’s bare waist. It seems to not even have left a mark on his skin. “You wake him up. Paimon’s upset at him.”
It’s hard to say no when tears are rolling down her face. Obediently, you poke around the man’s shut eyes, and it snaps open.
You flinch back. He blinks blearily.
“Are you okay?” You study his face, looking for any signs of a newly born zombie, but his face looks flushed and as healthy as any living human being. His eyes are bright and gold as they stare back at you.
“I’m in heaven,” he says. “Celestia has done it. I’m seeing angels, and I’m in heaven.”
Angels? Celestia?
Paimon tackles his face, shaking his shoulders and crying. “You’re not dead, dummy! How dare you leave Paimon in Dragonspine! All alone, Aether!”
“Oh,” Aether says, sounding almost disappointed. “Then…?”
“You’re not dead,” you agree with Paimon, because evidence lies before you despite the initial fright. However, his comment about angels has you a little flustered. “Um, what happened?”
“Ah,” Aether laughs sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I failed the trial, and it respawned me back here. Which is weird—I haven’t been in Bubu Pharmacy for ages!”
“I’m sorry?”
Aether jumps to his feet, startling you enough to fall on your ass. He grins down at you and offers a hand. “At least I got to meet you,” he says, pulling you up from the grass. You stumble from his strength; he catches you easily, and you bump against his chest. “Or—not meet you yet. What’s your name?”
You can’t believe the previously perished fallen star is now hitting on you. “I’m… Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeats, smiling broadly. “I’ll remember that.”
You hope that your face doesn’t betray the warmth you feel fluttering under your skin.
Aether sighs, casting a glance at the ground he was previously lying on. “Sorry you had to see that. That was probably very disturbing and decidedly not flattering for me.”
You can’t help but laugh. Aether beams. “Does that happen often?”
“When I get a little rusty, yeah.” He tilts his head, looking at you up and down, then around your surroundings. “Do you work here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Just recently.” You gesture vaguely to the side, feeling a little shy. “If you don’t see me hanging around, it’s probably because I’m always loitering the docks to watch out for exhausted tourists.”
Aether’s smile turns sly. “Nurse me back to health, would you?”
But then Paimon starts tugging on his ear and away from you, a relief for your racing heart. “Enough flirting! You can come back here after you unlock that precious chest!”
“Ow, ow, okay,” Aether laughs, hesitating, before letting you slip from his hold. He takes a few steps back, his smile as blinding as stars seconds away from exploding. “The docks, right? I’ll see you soon!”
By 'soon,' you hope he doesn't mean he'll attempt to die again immediately, but you figure you'll find out eventually. You glance around to see if anyone is watching, then decide to take a stroll around the docks for reasons no one should know.
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i cant believe mitzi's first aether fic is THIS i feel so ashamed lmfao, but TY FOR READING!!!!! <3
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