#and save our wombs maybe

[riewritten]

SAVE @rinamars AND ME

[gremlingottoosilly]

The Horror and the Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader]

It's time for the wedding - and the wedding night. Emperor is going to make sure you will bear his offsprings by the end of the night. Tags and TW: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator AO3

You weren’t saved from the humiliation of a public wedding. 

You weren’t saved the torture of picking the flowers as you were choosing the attire to your own funeral – and you weren’t saved your innocence by allowing yourself to ignore all the handmaidens and their horrible, disgusting picture books about penetration, pools of blood and hell that is saved between the legs of a man. 

“My condolences, dear princess. For your parents. And congratulations on your wedding. Our deepest hopes go to your coronation, Empress.” “From the king of South, we send our sheerest condolences. And congratulations on the wedding.” “May your parents rest in peace. And glory to the Emperor.” “Grief surely suits you, Dear Empress. As well as the crown.”

You think you might puke right in your royal garments, looking at all of the royal visitors. 

King Price of Southern Kingdom, with all of his knights – you do not know if you can find solace in the girl clinging to the hand of his masked knight, the stench of death filling you with calmness that you don’t know how to deal with. The girl is terrified, just like you – if you may, you’re probably the same age, that years of servitude grazing in the hands that are covered by the sheerest amounts of gloves. 

The lady – you don’t know her name, and you doubt that any woman in this hall is even allowed to have one other than her husband’s – is looking at you with understanding. You think you might actually die. 

— Lady Ryley? 

She smiles, and before you can go to her – hold her hands, ask her to disappear with you, maybe run away somewhere, you don’t even know where – the masked knight already drags her away, a firm hand on her shoulder. You’re alone, the weight of the royal robe is pinning you to the floor. 

You are dressed in black as the only form of rebellion – guests must assume you’re still mourning your parents, the grief in their eyes is mixed with congratulations on the Empire finally getting prospects of offspring – you hope you’d tore your womb from your body before König could lay his hands on you. Guests may assume that the wedding is a tab bit strange, maybe somewhat unusual for the emperor to marry someone of your status – tiny kingdom, no worthwhile resources, and almost zero prospects for trade. Maybe, you were the only treasure this kingdom ever had to sell so eagerly. 

König holds your hands because you know that you would try to run the second he is letting you go. You know he knows this, too. Guests may assume that he is being protective of his young wife – assassins aren’t unheard of in these places, after all, you were the empress now. The much smarter guests knew what kind of looks you gave him – perhaps, you had the best options at killing the notorious emperor right after he robbed you of the last remains of your dignity. 

You smile and wave like a damned pampered pigeon, pretty and useless, all dressed up in bows and black pearls, dark stones illuminating the depths of your despair – only the monster you had for a husband would even consider ordering a mourning dress this beautiful. You’re almost ashamed of wanting to paint it red – you almost feel bad while holding the butter knife and thinking about plunging it into your chest, ripping away all the delicate laces and ornaments that cut through your skin each time you breathe a bit too freely. 

— You look divine in this dress, meine Liebe. 

He smiles, you know he is – he didn’t forget about his damn hood even on his own wedding, but he holds you dearly, but he smiles with his eyes, an eerie sense of happiness that makes every guest shake in their seats. The Ruler of the Empire doesn’t smile. Not at his wife, who looks like she would rather kill herself, for sure – but he smiles as you say your wows, knowing full well you are not going to fulfill them, but he laughs when the priest stutters once you refused to say you do the first time – König has to squeeze your hands, reminding you of your place. Even your stubbornness has a limit, apparently. 

His lips are dry and chastity. 

König knows he can’t kiss you like he wants to – too many guests, too many pricks, thinking they have a look on his wife. If it weren’t for the admirers and desperate rulers of foreign lands, trying to force their songs and daughters to marry him out of a pathetic attempt at saving their countries, he wouldn’t even think about a public wedding. If it weren’t for the annoyance of constantly swatting the offers away, he would never allow the world to see you. Not how beautiful you look, not how pretty your eyes are, glistening with tears, not how much he just wanted to smother you with affection like there isn’t anyone around. 

Hells, if he knew so many people would accept the short notice for an invitation, he would invade their kingdoms while they were away at his wedding. 

König holds your face in his hands, the contrast between soft skin and his gloves is making you shiver – he pushes his hood up, even just for a little bit, and the only thing that is ever revealed to the audience is the scars on his chin and sudden dryness of his lips. He thought he overcame his childish anxiety when he was still a tiny bird stuck in his adolescence – but he looks at you, his pretty little princess, and his hands are shaking from the anticipation of a kiss. 

The guests will assume you’re crying because you love him so, so much. 

The Emperor knows better, kissing the tears from your lips like it was the sweetest treat around. 

*** You thought you were smart.

You really did. 

Such a slick motion, such an easy task – the girl coming with Knight Riley, the weak one, with trembling hands and face that spoke of innocence of lambs and with calloused hands of a fellow worker, took your hand as you were leaving. The veil of laughs and jokes about finally conceiving a worthy heir for the empire made you shiver from horror – and the girl swatted you to her side, a single sleight of hand putting…something in your palms. 

Some sort of plant – dried, smelling of something sweet and edible, flowers that would feel crispy on your tongue. She smiles softly, her hands are gentle on yours – she whispers in your ear before your respective monsters can catch you and throw you in their layers again. 

She said, it was mercy. 

She said, it would make -it- feel quick and easy. 

You hoped, it was a poison. 

It had to be, you wouldn’t accept anything else – the desire to die and fulfill the destiny of a loyal servant, the whispers of the god of dignified death – you may not see the sweetness of the afterlife with your Princess, but killing oneself to save their bodies from being violated is a worthy fate for any. You pushed the plant in your mouth as swiftly as possible, chewing on the dried grass and crispy flowers, hoping the effect would be immediate. 

You’re bathed and oiled like a pig for devour, short for the apple stuffed in your mouth – instead, you have forced a mouthful of wine, goblets after goblets. To ease the tension of the first night, the servants said, smiling understandably. You feel warm, you feel dizzy, you feel hellishly feverish, and it couldn’t be just from the alcohol – you close your eyes and hope that the plant took its way finally, releasing you from the shell of the mortal life. You’re dressed up in pretty garments, skimpy as something that the empress should never wear – you feel like a cheap whore when your skin is glossy with oils and decorated with flowers. 

Just before you started chewing on them too, your husband finally arrived. 

You hoped you’d be dead before ever seeing him naked again – but you’re forced to watch his muscles tense as the only thing saving his lack of dignity is the smallest ever piece of undergarments. It doesn’t help in hiding his arousal, the monstrosity between his legs. You knew you would have to die before he is ever putting anything in you – but you see the outline of his manhood, poking from the side of a simple cloth, and somehow, you feel hotter than before. 

You blame it on the wine, you blame it on the poison you took. The warmness is spreading in your tummy to your lower areas, forcing its way to moisture your garments, a wet spot, embarrassingly big for an Empress, is slowly spreading between your oiled, scented legs. You’re nothing but a feast for him, a pretty little snack – you knew how much he liked to eat, after all. What great talent he had in forcing your legs apart and showing his head between them, that sinful tongue of his speaking of prayers and soft little blasphemies in the sweetness of your maidenhood. 

— You’re burning, little princess. 

You hoped it’s the poison working. 

For a second, he placed his hand on your forehead and caressed it softly, accessing your temperature. For a second, the cold of his hands made you nuzzle into his palm like a cat that was fed nothing but the finest pieces of meat by the hand that was ready to skin it for its skin. For a second, you hoped that his embrace alone would be enough to kill you. 

If you die, which you must do, you wish it would be with his hands holding you softly. 

— A virgin fewer? I thought you’d know what we’re going to do by now, little prin…

— Don’t stop be from dying. 

You let go of those words before you could claim your silence. 

König’s hands are grasping you immediately, a finger lays in your mouth, making you gag – you open your lips from instinct, no matter how much you want to stop him from ever entering your mouth. He is weirdly smooth with you, the other hand going to grab your waist and press you on the bed – like you ever had a chance to stand against him and run away. Like he didn’t have a row of guards just outside the door. 

— Dying? Scheisse, dumme What did you do? 

He quickly grasped your tongue, the traces of the flower still lingered on your teeth, on the further corners of your mouth – you didn’t know if you had to spit it out or eat it whole, and you didn’t want to guess in the matters of death and loss of dignity. You gag on his fingers as he laughs – an unusual sound. First, the smiles and happiness in his voice, the rings and chains he put you in, and now laugh? Perhaps you died already, and this is your eternal damnation. 

— Let go of me! You have no…

— Were you still so scared, Liebling? 

— I wasn’t…what do you mean, Your Highness? 

The title is good, the title puts some distance between you and him. Only imaginary – he is still as close as possible, hands on your body, wiping the traces of the flowers on the silk sheets and holding you in his embrace again, as tight as he possibly can. You feel ill, you feel hot, every time he puts his hands on you, you can feel your core throbbing, the poison making you dizzy and dumb. 

You almost feel like begging him to touch you again – and again, and again. König, for one, can’t wait to watch. 

— I wonder where you got it. Such a clever Katzen, ja? Eating aphrodisiacs before her wedding night, like I would just mount you like an animal without preparing my wife? 

He laughs and laughs, hand in your hair, petting you gently like you truly were a cat. You’re dumbfounded, the fewer makes everything make less and less sense. You close your eyes, you open your eyes – you feel him on you. Looking, watching, observing, you want him to stop, and you want him to rip away those stupid garments and touch you, as he did in that dim hallway, to push his masterful, sinful tongue down your folds and treat you like a…

You whimper as you fell on the sheets, truly embracing the cat in-heat stance you were for the last few minutes. You roll on the sheets, smooth silk makes your core cool just a bit, the pressure only building with each time you try to hump the sheets, not caring anymore if you were behaving like an animal. 

Perhaps, the Knight’s maiden really wanted to make everything easier for you – just in her own way. 

— Wh…what have you done to me? 

He is bracing his hands between your legs, lingering touches on the wetness of your garments, making you both shiver in anticipation. He is forcing his tongue on you, the immediate pressure making you meow from the sensation. You hate it, you hate it, you have to hate it because if you don’t, then what the hell are you even doing. It’s too much and too little, it does nothing to relief the warmth between your legs, only making you wetter with each stroke of his wide, warm tongue. — I haven’t done anything, little princess. You just want me. 

— I would never want you. 

— I can stop. 

You snap your legs around his neck before he can withdraw his face. 

König is laughing, the sheer adorableness of your expression making him want you even more. You look perfect, so lost in desire for him – gods, he just wanted to devour you, to strip you of all you worth and make you his just as much as he is yours. But simply pleasing you with his tongue won’t ever be enough for this night – he had waited for so long, too long, disgustingly long, he had to have you in every way possible. If he won’t consummate the marriage today, he might as well just die. 

Other night, he will make you beg – plead for him to give you his cock, push the throbbing member in your trembling folds, snap the pleasure from your hands and force you to accept being his wife. The other night, he could wait and tease you for as long as possible. The other night…

He doesn’t have the patience for this night – he can’t even kiss you now, the mere feeling of your trembling lips would snap him beyond repair. It’s unfair to you, little princess, his desire is too much for someone like you to take – alas, he has to have you. Alas, he will have you, one way or the other, even if he’d have to push your pretty head into the pillows and force his manhood between your folds. 

But you plead for him, the desire in your eyes, mixed with fear and anticipation, is enough for him to laugh again, his hand squeezing your chest. You look divine, absolutely – you would look even better when properly bred, tits full of milk, and belly swollen with his little soldiers. Emperor never thought of getting an offspring, always knew his fate was to fall into obscurity with the country he created, but you have wide hips, a soft belly, and warm hands – all the requirements of a mother. But you have the submissiveness of a pet and the wit of a wife. 

But he can’t wait to push his seed into you – with a groan, before you could even lay your eyes on his cock, he is already forcing it in, ravaging all the resistance you once had. 

The plant made you warm, aroused, and wet enough to be dripping when he first pushed his cockhead between your glistening folds. You cry, the feeling of being intruded, ravaged, bot entirely painful, but now very pleasant either, is nothing you were expecting of the first night with your husband. You were expecting screaming, pools of blood, half of your organs falling out from the newly made hole between your legs. 

You just feel…intruded. The knot in your stomach is as tight as ever, even as König gives you a few minutes to adjust, the outline of his manhood throbbing in your tummy. You don’t even want to look at him, and he allows you to drift into a trance, the aphrodisiac you took doing all the job of preparation for him. 

He is feeling you, raw and sensitive, your maidenhood is dripping down your thighs and his cock as he wasn’t exactly gentle – he will be the next night, and the night after, and after, he will promise to take care of you, little princess, but this night is about taking what belongs to him – and he will never allow you to keep your dignity when you can simply be his dumb, adorable wife. 

— You’re so…heavens, princess, you’re strangling me. 

He laughs, struggling to push in and out, his hand finding its place on your folds, playing and tugging with your swollen little clit. The bud is wet, no matter the pain you’re experiencing – the drug won’t allow you to stop wanting it, wanting him, König knows it’s not genuine, he has to work to make you this aroused, but for now, it will work. He doesn’t want you to feel pain – and he will make sure you’re able to take him. 

— Too much, it’s…stop, wait, I am…

— You can take it, Schatzi. 

— I can’t! — You will. 

You whimper under him, you cry under him, he only continues to move, tearing your loyalty to your kingdom with each harsh thrust. You came to this room wanting to die, but now you feel your hands wrapping around his neck, your hips buckling to meet his, to bring the overcoming pleasure like König isn’t the one to tear you apart – you feel raw, you feel tainted, the pleasure in your folds is nothing what you ever had before. 

You’re betraying yourself with each moan and each whimper – you find yourself begging for him, the tears of yours is not just from pain anymore. He kisses you, rough lips on your mouth, making sure you’re as prepared for him as he is, you want for him to stop, but you plead with him to continue. 

— Stop already…I…

— I only came twice, little princess. And you – trice. Doesn’t feel fair, ja? — ‘s not, I can’t take it anymore…

— I will breed you, Schatzen. Until you’re swollen with my sons. — It w…won’t be royal children…

— Ach, my blood is enough to make a dog royal. — But…

— I will breed you, little princess. You can stop pretending you don’t want it.

You’re not even sure at what orgasm you are already – you feel like he came already, the wetness in your cunt should be evident of his already breeding you quite a few times, but the time is a blur when every time you cum, your vision blurs and your brain becomes foggier and foggier. 

König knows you will look perfect, all thoughtless and swollen with his children – not now, maybe, with a few elixirs to enhance your ability to bear children, but he can’t wait till you’re done. You might not like it at first, princesses do tend to be just a bit dumb when it comes to their duties, but there is something in your eyes that is telling him you’re going to bring him sons just like a good girl you are. Just like he expects you to do, your pretty tummy all swollen, and your body is barely handling the passion of his lovemaking. Gods, he knew you would be worth it. Even if, to his knowledge, you’re not a princess at all.

[cherrise-rose]

You mentioned you liked the idea of practicing birth so here you go !

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Elsie stands with her legs spread on either side of her husbands parted thighs. He rests his head on the swell of her belly. He pumps her favorite dildo in and out of her pussy. It's a girthy thing, almost as thick as his arm. They used to use it to prep Elsie to take his fist. Now it's going to be used to prepare for the induction appointment for Elsie to have their baby tomorrow. After nearly a week and a half past the due date he and Elsie decided they didn't want to wait for the baby to come naturally and booked an appointment to get induced tomorrow evening. But Elsie didnt want to go in blind. So he had suggested that they prepare by helping her stretch and having her practice giving birth. Elsie's hip twitches as she gets closer and closer to an orgasm. He pulls the dildo out of her wet pussy as soon as she starts coming. Oh how he wants to plunge his own dick into his beautiful wife. He pulls away and waits for her to calm down slightly. When he deems her ready, he guides her down onto the bed he'd been sitting on and instructs her to lie on her back. Then he folds up the deflated soccer ball and inserts it into his shuddering wife's still twitching cunt. Now comes the fun part. He inserts the ball pump pin into the balls hole where it peeks out between his wife's puffy pussy lips. Once it's secure, he pushes the soccer ball in deeper until it disappears from view and the pump leads into Elsie's cunt.

"Where is the ball Elsie?" He asks her to confirm.

"Mmmm, I can feel iiiit" she moans, eyes rolling back. She's overwhelmed and still trembling from her orgasm and now overstimulated from the crumpled soccer ball in her pussy. But she had to learn to deal with it. It would be worse tomorrow. Labor alone could last days, and birth even longer.

"Where exactly is our baby?" Elsie seems to focus at the word like he hoped.

She takes a deep breath before replying, "baby is right outside my womb, I can feel him nestled against my cerviiiiiiix" Elsie moans, turned on at the thought. Good. Maybe it will save her the pain.

He starts pumping the ball pump, inflating the soccer ball in his fucked out wife's sensitive pussy. Elsie's moans become whimpers of discomfort at the odd sensation of the ball inflating pressed up against her pussy. Then her whimpers turn into cries when the odd sensation tips over into the territory of pain. Her husband's pants tent at how he's still able to have Elsie screaming and writhing even now that she is heavily pregnant.

A second bump forms under Elsie's pregnant belly as he inflates the soccer ball. He runs a hand over her belly before sliding down to press on the second bump to check the balls pressure. He pumps the ball up some more. Elsie is sobbing and shaking her head from side to side mumbling for him to stop. But he isn't fooled. When he reaches between her legs to pull to pump pun out, he finds her thighs and sheets under Elsie soaked with her pussy juices. He knew she was enjoying this, probably more than he was.

He orders Elsie off the bed. They still have a whole day and tomorrow morning until the birth appointment. He tells her to go pack her bags for everything they'd need for the birth while he made lunch and watches her clutch her belly with one hand and the second bump with the other as she struggles to waddle off. Her legs are bowed out wider than before. It's good practice for when the doctor tells her to walk around with a full crowning baby in her cunt.

He forces her to sit properly to take lunch despite the ball pushing into her loosening cervix and causing her to feel extra stuffed. Then takes her out to run errands all day, not helping her walk even as passersby ogle at her. It's all practice.

Anon, this is so hot

[noellawrites]

Involuntary Celibate - Yandere!Carmy Berzatto x reader

requested & also helped by @tryingtowritefanfics <3

summary: Carmy's been saving himself for you... but he's tired of waiting.

warnings: 18+, incel!Carmy, teasing, dub/non-con, forced breeding, rape

"Yo chef, can you stay late for prep?" Carmy asks as he passes behind you.

"Of course, chef!" you pipe, turning around and smiling at your boss.

He stole a glance at the sauce you were working on and cocked his head towards it.

"Go ahead, I need some feedback," you confess, handing him a spoon.

As his lips touch your creation and his eyes brighten just a bit, you can't help but blush. After a year of working for him, you'd developed quite a crush on the man.

"Excellent, chef. Just try adding a bit more honey," he offers, looking right into your eyes.

You thought about that interaction for the rest of your shift, even as everyone else left.

—

Now, it was past ten and only you and Carmy remain.

You sidle up to Carmy, leaning over the large metal table as he works on one of his drawings.

He looks over at you briefly, his mouth cracking into a small smile before turning back to his work.

Before you could stop yourself, you reach out and touch one of the tattoos on his left arm, the world inside the measuring cup.

"I love this one," you whisper, tracing the cup's thin lines.

Carmy immediately stops drawing. Unbeknownst to you, Richie's words from the past few weeks were echoing through his mind.

"C'mon 'cuz, why haven't you tapped that yet?" "Carm, she's obviously fuckin' obsessed with you." "Jesus 'cuz, you can't be a virgin forever." "If Mikey were here, he'd tell you how much of a loser you are."

Before you knew what was happening, Carmy grabs your arm with his right hand and pins your back against the table. Alarm bells ring through your head but you can't move, your body feels numb.

"Stop fuckin' teasin' me," Carmy grits, pressing his body against yours. You can feel his hard-on through his pants as it presses against your midsection.

You have no idea what else to do, so you lean up and press your lips against his. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he deepens the kiss, groaning and bucking against you.

You let out a loud moan as Carmy works his way down your neck with his mouth. All of a sudden, you feel his big hand attempting to tug your bottoms down. You reach down and grab his hand, but he slaps your hand in response.

"You've been teasing me for months, it's my fuckin' turn to take what belongs to me," he hisses, and you immediately start to feel your eyes water.

"C-Carm, please—" you start, but he cuts you off.

Carmy leans in, lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm done with your shit. I'm gonna knock you up and leave you beggin' for more."

"Carmy, I-I'm a virgin. Please don't do this to me!" you beg, still trying to push against him in vain. He has you trapped, no chance for escape.

"I'm a virgin, too. Been savin' myself for you, so we can lose it to each other. We can start our own family, leave our fucked up ones behind," he promises, and you can hear the strain in his voice. Probably a combination of his intense lust and deep desire to get you pregnant.

"Stop, please! I'm not ready to—" you try again, but Carmy cuts you off by clamping a hand over your mouth. With his other hand, he finishes pulling your pants and underwear down.

"You're so good, all wet for me, huh? Slutty women like you are always fuckin' teases," Carmy hisses, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.

You might've enjoyed this, following maybe four dates and a label and maybe a condom. But you clenched your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were anywhere else.

Anywhere but being cornered and raped by your boss while he tries to put his baby inside you, a little baby Berzatto blossoming inside your womb.

"Hmm—mphh!" you try to speak through Carmy's hand over your mouth. He was almost fully sheathed inside of you, groaning while rocking his hips into yours.

Your extreme discomfort shifted into throbbing pain as his cock breached your cervix. You couldn't stop the tears from filling your eyes as he fucked you harder, like a man on a mission.

Pain mixed with pleasure flooded your senses as Carmy groans, painting the walls of your cervix with his cum.

"Richie and Mikey'd be so fuckin' proud’a me," he says under his breath as he pulls out of you, immediately yanking your underwear back up to keep his fluids inside your pussy.

He un-clamps his hand from your mouth as he shuffles back into his black pants and buckles his belt.

“Why did you do this to me, Carmy?" you sniffle as his intense gaze meets your eyes.

"Because I love you. You're mine now, you'll never be with anyone else," he says, a bored expression on his face.

You can't hold back anymore. You burst into tears, a mixture of post-coital emotions and terror at the very real possibility of a baby inside you.

Carmy pulls you into his chest, holding you close to him as your tears soak through his white shirt.

"I love you so much," he whispers, and you cry even harder. You're never going to escape Carmy Berzatto, you know that now.

[fantasyandshit]

Tea time

Type:one shot

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Yn sees a new kind of tea while shopping at one of her favorite shops, come to find out it’s a strong form of aphrodisiac, reverting the drinkers to ‘their most primal instincts’. Not believing it she decides to make it for her and her mate as a joke.

(A/n, this is my first go at smut. I’m so sorry if it sucks. Also sorry I haven’t posted in forever, I had like zero ideas- this why I need y’all to help me, I can’t make decisions for myself. Anyway on too the Oneshot)

Azriel is out on yet another spymaster mission, so to kill a bit of time, I stroll through the isle of my favorite tea shop in Velaris, Trixies tea time shop. As I’m looking through the different teas I spot a box I’ve never seen before, it’s red and black, with a heart on the front, looking at the description to see what it tastes like I see something…interesting.

This is a drink to give you and your partner a once in a lifetime experience. The natural roots in this drink revert one to their most natural state, all while tasting like sweet and sour cherry.

I inspect the box for a few more moments before ultimately deciding to take it. My poor Az has been so stressed lately, maybe this could help him unwind and lead to a night of fun for the both of us, also wever tried nearly every method to get me pregnant as we desperately want a little one of our own. Besides what’s the harm if it’s simply a hoax. Taking the three new times I’ve grabbed to the desk, the woman-Trixie who I’ve made friends with smiles as she looks at the red and black box.

“So you’ve got plans for tonight?” She teases softly as she tells me my total. I roll my eyes before thanking her and walking back home.

———

“Hey Az baby?”

“Yes love?”

“I’ve made some tea for us.” I smile softly as I set it on the coffee table in front of where he sits reading on the couch.

“Thank you sweetheart.” One of his rare smiles save for me graces his lips as he kisses my head softly before picking up the glass and bringing it to his lips. “Hmm, this is new? What is it”

“Oh just a new one at Trixies I saw, figured we could give it a try.” I bring my own glass to my lips and we both simply sit in each others presence until we’re done and take them to the kitchen.

I lay with my head in Az’s chest moments later, his hand absently running through my hair as he continues his book. “Is it hot in here?” He asks out of the blue, pulling at the color of his shirt.

“Yeah, yeah I suppose a bit.” My eyebrows scrunched as I just now noticed the sweat dripping from his forehead and my own dripping down my back. I sit up as he continues clawing at his shirt. As he peals it off with a grunt more arousal then I thought I’d ever had sweeps through me like a wave.

As my mate turns to me I hear him audibly growl before he opens his mouth and I see his canines sharpening and his eyes darkening. “What-“ another grunt, “-what was in that tea?” His voice seems deeper and by the mother I’ve never thought this male could be this attractive.

“I-it said its to bring us to our most primal instincts-I didn’t think-I thought it was a hoax.” I’m panting as all I can think about is the man in front of me turning me into his bitch, filling my womb with his seed and giving me his babies.

“I think-I don’t think it’s a hoax love.” The last word growls and an involuntary moan leaves my lips as a smirk graces his features. “I don’t think-gods you don’t know how badly I want to put you on all fours and make you my bitch, get you nice and round with my babies. How much I want to fill your womb as you beg me to stop.”

I crawl to the male like a bitch in heat. “Do it Az. Make me your bitch.” I’ve never sounded more desperate or horny in my life as something flickers in my mates eyes and he lunges for me with a growl like a predator to pray, his hand landing on my throat as the other wonders my body.

“I’m gonna make you my bitch, gonna have you begging for my babies. Do you want my babies? Want to be big and round for me?” I nod breathlessly as his hand squeezes the supple skin of my thigh. “Words baby.” His hand squeezes my neck, just enough to have me struggling slightly for air.

“Y-yes sir. Please, fill me with your babies, get me nice and round.” Just like that the weight of his body is gone and all I can do is whine, my body feeling almost heavy.

“Take off your clothes and get on all fours.” He grunts as he takes his painfully hard cock from the restraints of his pants, that’s when I notice it, a swelling knot at the base of his dick. I make quick work of slipping from my restraining clothing and getting on all fours, my Butt slightly raised and pointed towards the male. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.” His face goes to my neck as he rubs my back and thighs.

A yelp leaves me as he sniffs my pulse point before biting down. Hard. Just as he does this his hand shimmies to my clit, rubbing softly before delving to my folds, spreading the soaked lips and feeling around them as I moan uncontrollably. He takes his fingers and brings them to my lips, “open.” I immediately obey and he sticks them in my mouth, I moan at the taste of myself on tongue as I suck his fingers like a whore. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk, I’m gonna fill you with my seed and make sure you know who owns you.”

“Yes sir.”

“Say it again.”

“Sir.”

A throaty moan leaves my mate just before he pushes into my slick folds and my head falls back in pure ecstasy.

Azriel pounds into me, his lips assaulting my neck as moans and grunts leave us both, at this point he’s fucked me in nearly every position, his cum dripping down my thighs as he pushed in again and again from behind me where I lay on my stomach. Bite marks litter both our skins, particularly near our pulse points where a delicious scent I’ve never smelt before radiates from him. “Gonna, gonna cum baby.” He sighs as he furiously drags himself in and out of my tight pussy, a ring of cream at the base of his knot. His words finish off my building orgasm as I cum hard enough to see stars. Azriel lets out one last chesty moan before his knots slips into me and I get dizzy, never have I been this full as he paints my wall with yet another load.

My mate falls to his side, me going with him seeing as we’re attached, however I don’t think I would be able to move on my own without him anyway. Az pulls me tight to his chest, nuzzling his face in my neck softly as he slowly falls asleep, snores falling from his parted lips.

——————-

I know it sucks but I tried ok. Please give me ideas guys! My suggestion box is open and in need of some good ideas. Love y’all.

[readingcoco]

Mood board credit: @rivetingrosie4

So after months of reading everyone else's work, I finally got round to finishing this one shot inspired by the wonderful @rivetingrosie4! It's the first thing I have ever written so any critique will be highly cherished. This is hopefully a good practice run for a longer story I will be working on for the rest of the year.

Taglist: @photo1030, @rivetingrosie4, @redwritr

🍑PEACH FLESH🍑

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI | 5067 words | Ao3 Link TAGS: Plus-Size Reader, Oral Sex, Fake Marriage, Internalised Fatphobia, Squirting

The door almost swings off its hinges as you and Arthur stumble into the second-best suite Strawberry’s Welcome Centre has to offer. Despite being a dry town, you were both half cut and giddy from the two bottles of brandy shared over dinner with the newlyweds you hoped to rob blind first thing in the morning. 

The room is womb-like, lit dimly with low wooden ceilings and dark red baroque wallpaper lining each wall, in the centre stands a grand four poster bed adorned with more blankets than you know what to do with, set diagonally facing a little wood burner that radiates out heat that stings slightly against your mountain chilled cheeks. You haven’t been around such finery in years, the excess of it all feeling somehow grotesque when compared to the simple pleasures you’d now learnt to love. 

“My Lady”, Arthur bows as he raises his arm, gesturing to the empty room. 

“Husband”, you giggle, door closing behind you. The ridiculousness of that word still not losing its novelty. 

“I’ll be sure to let Hosea know we’ve got a regular little con artist on our hands.”

Your body is vibrating with energy, the thrill of the past few hours still coursing through your veins; how you’ll sleep tonight, you don’t know, even with the promise of such a comfy mattress to lay your head on. You’d been terrified of letting everyone down ever since Dutch had summoned you to his tent to inform you of the job he had lined up for Arthur and the role he expected you to play. You were sure there must have been some mistake, but when he explained that your upbringing made you the ideal candidate, you couldn’t see a way to protest. So now you were here, just you and Arthur, and things were surprisingly going to plan for a change. 

“I can’t believe how naive they were. Was I really so soft when you first met me?”

“A little”, Arthur smirks as he sits on the oak trunk at the edge of the bed, pulling roughly at the puff tie around his neck, eager to free himself of the restrictions of such formality. You had been shocked at how naturally he found getting into character after spending half the ride there grumbling about it. “Suits you, though, a bit of softness. Glad we ain’t fully sullied that good name of yours just yet.” 

You bristle a little at the mention of your name, all the good it had done you when you’d drifted from town to town, relying on the goodwill of others to keep you from starving. Your name hadn’t saved you then, but the Van der Linde gang had. It was them to whom you owed a debt, not your family. 

“We best get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

You nod as Arthur moves to hang his dress coat in the wardrobe, and you catch sight of him over your shoulder in the large cheval mirror that stands to the side of the bed. He looks different somehow, here away from camp, more at ease maybe, less burdened by thoughts. This was the longest you and he had spent one-on-one, and you had found it surprising how quickly you had both fallen into an easy rhythm. You had always got on well in camp. You shared a closeness with him more akin to one of the girls than any of the other men; he’d bring you fresh peaches whenever he could, knowing them to be your favourite, and you would craft tonics and bitters for him to take on his travels. A trade between friends. Truth be told, if it wasn’t so implausible, you might have wanted to take advantage of the sleeping arrangement that now presented itself - Karen or Mary-Beth wouldn’t have given it a second thought! But as it was, that was a delusion, and Arthur had already courteously agreed to sleep on the floor.

Your reflection distracts you then as you compare the neat up and down of his form to your own inelegant roundness in the mirror. What was the word Grimshaw had used? Fleshy? And more on display this evening than you had ever elected to show to the gang.

When Trelawny had taken you to the dressmakers, your eyes had almost bugged out of your head when you saw the mannequin donning the dress he had selected for you. An off-the-shoulder, deep emerald gown with a swan-like bust made from velvet. Quite possibly the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. You begged Trelawny to allow you to wear something, anything else. But he would hear nothing of it. To con an heiress, you would have to look like one. The ridiculousness of that notion forces a snort of laughter to escape your mouth. Arthur turns to you, lips preemptively curling upwards, expecting you to share your private joke. 

“Somethin' tickle you?”

“Nothing, it’s silly.” 

But his face doesn’t let up. You hesitate, trying to find a way to make him understand without sounding foolish. 

“It’s just, I didn’t expect any of this to actually work. I went along with it because… because I wanted to be useful. I didn’t actually think anyone would believe that we were married.” You laugh, but Arthur looks confused. 

“Why not?”

You giggle, gesturing back and forth between you like it’s the plainest thing in the world, but he still stares at you blankly. 

“Don’t play dumb, Arthur! Look at me, and then look at you!” 

“I’m lookin'.”

Your smile falters a little, realising that he is going to make you state the obvious, that unspoken truth that you have been biting your tongue not to scream out loud since Dutch revealed the con two weeks previous. 

“Arthur, please…” Your voice is quieter now, traces of humour all but evaporated. “There ain’t no way a man like you would ever take someone like me as a wife. It’s just not the way of things.” Your eyes are now firmly rooted to the ground. Shame coursing through your body for putting such a dour end to a fun evening. Wishing desperately to go back to the teasing and lightness of moments before. “You're deserving of a fine woman, not a stout, plain thing like me.”  

Arthur rears back on his heels as though slapped.

“Ought not to speak about yourself that way or judge whose hand is or isn’t deserving of mine, calloused and scarred up as it is.” 

You laugh quietly at that and lift your head back up at him, where he hooks you in with a look so serious it catches you off guard, brows knitted together like he is weighing up some great debate. He sniffs-

“You looked beautiful tonight, Mrs Callahan.”

He steps towards you slowly, as one might approach a spooked horse, head tilted and low, looking up at you with sparkling pools of tranquil blue. You feel the overwhelming urge to bolt, but something about the assured look he has on you keeps you tethered to the spot, unable to move as the space between you grows smaller. 

“Don’t tease me, it ain’t kind.”

“I’ve not been able to take my eyes off my pretty wife all evening.” 

You search his face for some small hint of insincerity, half expecting him to rear back at any moment and mock you for not seeing his obvious joke. But he doesn’t pull back. Unyielding in his approach until he is close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath on your crown. The smell of brandy and tobacco smoke wafts deliciously in the air. You hesitate to look up, not sure you could withstand the heat of his gaze without melting into the rug. 

“You know, I’ve not seen you wear anything like this before,” Arthur gently raises a hand up to your exposed shoulder and fingers some of the lace appliques around the rim, his chapped knuckles lightly grazing your skin. Your eyes close, and a faint sigh escapes your lips as you lean into his touch. “Caught myself thinkin’ about how much more of your loveliness you’ve been hidin' away.”

You are still unable to lift your eyes higher than the buttons on his shirt. But then he’s tracing a line up your throat, resting his thumb on your chin and gently manoeuvring your face to meet his. To be invited to view him up so close and personal this way is a delight you want to savour. The white lines around his eyes from squinting in the sun, the crook in his nose, badly set, smattered with freckles, the chip on his frontmost tooth, the face of a man who has only known hard work and fresh air. But the exchange of looks goes both ways and suddenly, you are reminded of the indolent, dumpy girl he must view. 

“Arthur-” 

His lips press into yours so keenly that your overthinking brain only has room for the sweet sensation of his insistent kiss, opening you up to him, coaxing you deliberately with his brandy, rich tongue. A needy whimper is spilled from your mouth into his, which he drinks from you, like a man parched, tasting your lips and then deeper, lapping you up. Your shaky hands find purchase on the plains of his broad chest, and you fist at his shirt to pull him closer. 

As though that were the signal he was waiting for, Arthur grunts out a low groan before dipping his head to kiss at your neck and cushioned collar bone, hands running along the stiff shape of your corset, reaching around your sides, your back, searching blindly for some hidden opening. You have never seen him this feral. 

You pull backwards, struggling to catch your breath, lips swollen, hair all but falling down. 

“Wait,” You gasp. “You’re drunk, you don’t really want-”

“Woman, if you don’t stop tellin' me what I do and do not want.” He laughs, but there is a seriousness that underpins his tone. “Now, if you don’t want it, that’s different.” He lifts an eyebrow in question. 

“It’s not that. I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.” He offers you a look that could almost read as exasperated if it wasn’t so filled with fondness. Your chest is pounding, you're not sure that you have ever wanted something, someone, so much in your entire life. Your eyes dart around the ornate room and land on the glowing gas lamp behind Arthur’s head. “Maybe if it were dark?”

He laughs dismissively. “You’re still not gettin' it,” He pulls his hand down his face before interlocking your fingers in his as though trying to work out how to explain something simple to a small child. “You think I would be here kissin' on you, actin' a fool, if I weren’t attracted to you?”

You don’t know how to answer him, so you remain silent. Chewing a loose strip of skin on your lip.

“You think I ain’t noticed you're bigger than most?” Your cheeks burn red at the acknowledgement of your body, something you have taken great pains to draw attention away from for as long as you can remember - modest clothing, intricate hairstyles, humour and helpfulness. His thumbs rub soothingly on the pulse point of your wrists. 

“Ever considered that might be something I might like?” In truth, you hadn’t because how could it be? You had never seen images of women who looked like you in catalogues or advertisements unless it was to market some magical cure for the ailment of looking like you, never read about them in books unless they were some wicked aunt or old crone. How could Arthur be attracted to such a thing?

“Turn around.” 

A command given so soberly that you find yourself spinning without thought. He pulls your back flush to him as he scoops the fallen tendrils away from your left ear, lips pressing into newly revealed skin. Your eyes find each other in the mirror as he trails a path of wet kisses down your neck to the tip of your shoulder. Unfolding you in his arms as if to show you off to the two figures staring back longingly, enjoying their own embrace. 

“You see?” He traces the length of your arms with his rough fingers, ghostlike as they make their way down the curve of your arms, one wrapping tightly around your waist while the other seeks out your breast. He finds you heavy and full in his palm, and your bodies roll together in a languid moan released in unison. 

You observe Arthur’s eyebrow hitch momentarily in the mirror, and his eyes darken as you feel a tug from your side and realise too late that he has found the opening of your dress. He wastes no time unhooking each clasp one by one, your breath coming in heavy as you watch him work, peeling the right side of your wrapped bodice away from your corset, the swell of your breast revealed, covered only by the thin cotton of your chemise. 

You lift your hand to help with the clasps on the other side, but Arthur nudges you away as though this is his solemn duty to bear alone. He reaches around to your left-hand side until you are fully enveloped in his arms, and you can feel his heart pumping in his chest. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head falls back to meet his firm shoulder as you feel yourself going weak at the knees, like it has been the rigidity of your clothing holding you together this entire time; one more loosened clasp, and you are liable to break. 

“I want you to see what your body does to me”, Arthur rasps out as he unwraps the left half of your bodice, leaving your chest fully bared, apart from your underthings. You watch as his fingers delicately trace their way up your corset, and he takes each of your full breasts in hand, rolling your beaded nipples with his thumbs. The sensation courses through your veins as your arms shoot behind you, grasping blindly in an attempt to ground yourself for fear you will float away. One hand meets his left hip, while the other finds the tight muscle of his thigh before something more protruding grazes the pads of your fingers. Arthur lets out an involuntary grunt as he bucks into you. 

You run your fingers along his length more deliberately then, and the fire it ignites in him is enough to rival the sun. Eyes still locked firmly onto yours in the mirror, he pulls your bodice from your arms with two rough jerks before throwing it to the side to begin work on your skirts. 

“Face me.” 

You turn, as he pulls you into a deep kiss, fingers hooking behind you to undo the ties at your waist. His hands glide down your back, over your ass and hips, skinning the fabric away from you until it bunches up and falls to the ground. Catching his breath, he steps back, panting, taking in the curves of your now semi-exposed form. You have never been looked at this way, hungrily, like your ripened flesh is the only thing that could save this starving man. 

“Goddamnit”, He hisses, more to himself than you and backs away from you further.

Without the solid touch of him to reassure you that the last few minutes haven’t been some momentary lapse in sanity, a wave of self-consciousness pulls you outside your body like some sort of uninvited voyeur, looking down at the scene, struck by the implausibility of it all. Here is this man - Adonis, even, who could have his pick of women, not just in camp but in polite society too; you had seen how the newlywed wife had looked at him over dinner, and then you, dimpled and misshapen like a bruised peach.   

Sensing the sudden shift in your demeanour, Arthur quickly steps back to you, resting his forehead on yours, blue eyes burning intensely, cupping your cheeks with both hands.

“You still don’t believe I want ya?”

You stare back at him, his lips so close you must hold back the urge to nip at them. 

“I’m sorry” you whisper. Softly, Arthur removes a hand from your cheek and finds your own covering the curve of your stomach. He hooks his fingers into yours and guides your hand lower down to the hard line of his trousers.

“My whole body’s achin’ for ya, Darlin'.” His arousal is undeniable now, and for a moment, you start to believe that he could be true to his word. Perhaps certain tastes are only acquired by a few. Your thumb reflexively works up and down the solid ridge of him as he presses his lips to yours and lets out a groan.

“Now-” He’s struggling to maintain his focus as your fingers continue to stroke him. “I’m going to sit down right here, and you are going to show me what I’ve been wantin' to see.” He huffs out and pulls himself back from you again and sits at the edge of the bed, eyeing you eagerly in anticipation. 

For a moment, you stand there, tethered to the spot, brain failing to remember the motions one must go through to undress, as though this was something entirely new and not the most ordinary of tasks. 

You close your eyes and breathe deeply to gather yourself before loosening the ties of your petticoats and allowing them to fall to the floor like the heavy skirt before it. A rumble of approval from the bed forces your eyes to open. When you are met with a look so full of adulation, it’s hard to stop the grin from spreading across your entire face. You step over the crumpled petticoats with a little skip before marching to the bed and lifting your heeled foot to rest between Arthurs's legs.

“Care to do me the honour?”

“My pleasure.”

Arthur takes your stockinged ankle in his large hands, pressing a flurry of kisses to your knee as he peels the silk down your leg before unbuttoning the pointed-heeled boot and tossing them aside. As you lift your other leg up to him, he hooks your knee and carves his hands upwards underneath your bloomers, fisting a handful of the meat of your inner thigh. 

“Patience,” you say, fully enthralled by this new sense of power you feel in your core like you could tell this man to walk through hot coals, and he would thank you for the privilege. You flick the point of your shoe towards him to undo.

Heels removed, you step backwards again, fingers tracing the shape of your body slowly, tantalisingly, noting how each swirl of your thumb, each flick of your wrist registers like a shockwave on the gunslinger’s slack-jawed face. You press your clothed breasts together, lifting them experimentally and letting them fall. And then once again. Arthur lets out a hiss. 

“Woman, you don’t know what I have planned for you.”

Your fingers ghost the eyelets of your corset, the moment you have been dreading. The barrier moulding your shape into something deemed acceptable by society. You feel without it, you may fall apart. But if his face isn’t goddamn begging you to take it off. Who are you to disappoint him?

You pull the top clasps together, and then the bottom and your lungs fill with air as your body relaxes in kind. You stand there in only your chemise and bloomers, near transparent, backlit by the light from the fire. You hitch your chemise to your waist, inch by inch, as Arthur leans forward, almost salivating. Your fingertips slide under the waistband of your bloomers as you shimmy them down to your ankles with a wiggle, exposing the thatch of hair at your sex for a split second before your chemise falls back into place. 

A thought comes to you then, and you're not sure if it’s in part to delay the inevitable shame of baring yourself to this man so completely or if part of you is starting to have fun, but you realise the power you hold stood before him in nothing more than your chemise. What would he give up to see your exposed flesh? What trade might he offer now? A peach for something saltier perhaps? You toy with the frill at your hem.

“Planned? You sound like you’ve been dreamin' on this for a while, Arthur.”

You step towards him again so that your scantily covered breasts are now at eye level. He reaches out to touch you, but you shoo him away. 

“You ‘been having indecent thoughts?”

“The worst”

You cock your head to the side in mock outrage. The giddiness of dinner, playing dress up, and make-believe comes flooding back with full force.

“What thoughts?”

“Takin' you in my tent… spreadin' you out… all pretty for me.” He can barely get his words out as your finger lifts the corner of your chemise. 

“You ever done anything about those thoughts, cowboy?” 

The rush of crimson to his cheeks surprises you as you imagine him alone in his cot with only daydreams of you to keep him company. You have so many other questions: When did this start? Why has he only chosen to act now? But they will have to wait. You glance down at his lap.

“Show me.” 

Like an eager puppy, he springs from his seat, towering over you, but you don't step back. Arthur’s disrobing is a much more efficient affair; suspenders are shrugged from his shoulders, shirt unfastened, trousers kicked haphazardly across the room until he is in a comparable state of undress, left in only his union suit. If you’re not mistaken, a similar wave of trepidation pumps through his veins, too. You eye the proud ridge of his length, straining the stretched cotton as Arthur unbuttons his union, first revealing the coarse blonde hair at his chest, which darkens with each new release, lower and lower. At the juncture of his groin, thick brown curls frame the base of his shaft, and as he steps out of the suit, cock springing free, filling the space between you, you're not sure you have seen beauty like it.

“Show me.” Your voice is a whisper now. Arthur takes himself fully in hand and slowly strokes himself while holding your gaze. You watch him intently: artful and precise like every other task his expert hands carry out. You almost lose yourself watching him before you remember your own throbbing need and push him back to his seat on the bed. You are ready now. Confident. 

You raise your chemise up your strong thighs, the curve of your hips, swell of your belly, higher still to meet your heavy breasts that fall as the fabric catches them momentarily; you pull the cotton above your head, over your plump arms, until you are stood naked as the day you were born, goosebumps adorning your skin, like velvet. They prickle as you smooth your hands across your belly, as though touching it for the first time. Maybe you are touching it for the first time with gentle hands? You smile at this private realisation and then towards the cowboy, who is near cross-eyed with want, stroking himself vigorously at the sight of your unveiled form. 

“Am I what you expected?”

“Git over here already. I’m tired of just lookin'.”

Before you can protest that you don’t want to crush him, Arthur is pulling you onto his lap, the ripe head of him grazing your clit and pressing between your stomachs. You try to hold some of your weight from him by awkwardly balancing yourself where your shins meet the mattress, but then he’s grabbing two firm handfuls of your ass and lifting you up with him. Reflexively, your legs wrap around his waist as you are suspended in the air. It feels like flying. You have not been picked up like this, cradled, since you were a child, and even then, by the time you turned 7, your papa had started to groan that you were too big. But Arthur lifts you effortlessly, kissing into your mouth as he spins you round and lays you out on your back, his body curving over yours. 

His knuckles tenderly graze the shape of your cushioned ribs, rising and falling in time with his own. He slowly lowers himself down your body, taking care to kiss an open-mouthed trail down the centre of your sternum, between the valley of your breasts, palming each on his journey. Your body arches up hungrily in anticipation of each kiss, eyes drifting shut as you feel the warmth of his breath waft against the moistened curls of your pelvis, already sodden with want. 

A flash of ecstasy pulls the air from your lungs as your eyes spring open, and you grasp wildly to pull him back up to you. He can’t. It’s too much. But the cowboy holds firm. You peer between your legs in horror as Arthur begins to feast greedily at your cunt. From the depraved sounds from his chest, you intuit that this must be another of this man’s acquired tastes. Still, the sight has you scandalised in such a wickedly licious way you find yourself biting your lip as a drawn-out groan rasps itself out of you. 

A wave of impossible pleasure builds first in your chest. Then it permeates outwards, sending vibrations down your arms and neck, catching in your cheeks, forcing you to huff out pathetic little pants. You begin to writhe and wriggle under the pressure of his tongue, brazen as it dances along your slippery folds. Long, languid licks, lapping you up.

“Ohh-” 

Your legs pull together reflexively in a vice-like grip, ensnaring his head. Still, if Arthur fears suffocation, he shows no signs of stopping, sucking you wholey on the clit until your body is quivering like that of a bow fully drawn.  

“Arthur…” You beg as another wave has your head rolling back into the mattress. “Please… I can’t.” 

“You can.” He rumbles as he pushes a finger inside you, and your legs start to tremble violently, loosening their grip around the cowboy’s head. Jesus Fuck. You jut your pelvis forward involuntarily as your whole being seeks out a deeper penetration. Sensing your rising need, Arthur slides a second digit inside you and curls them in an upward motion as if coaxing your climax to come quicker, harder. Don’t be shy, it’s alright. You're doin' so good for me.

You feel it then, pressure, unlike anything you have experienced from your own hand. Like you are a jug being filled from a fast-flowing river, you feel yourself reaching the brim and then spilling out, overflowing. Water gushing from within, swirling you up in its current and washing you out to sea. Clear liquid streams from your cunt, coating Arthur’s face and neck. As your body resurfaces the only way you know you have not drowned is through the heartbeat you feel pumping in your ears.

“I’m so sorry” You gasp, as you pull off him and quickly try to cover the sodden evidence of your release, fisting desperately at the blankets, distraught by all the new and mortifying ways your body seeks to humiliate you. But then you hear Arthur’s chuckle as he wipes his face with the back of his hand, grinning from ear to ear. 

“I ain’t never made a girl come like that before. C’mere.” Arthur takes hold of your frantic hands and pulls you towards him, scooping you up in his sturdy arms, resting your cheek against the soft curls of his chest and looking down at you adoringly. “You got nothing to apologise for. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

You silently shake your head, certain you will never be able to look at the man in the face again. He frowns then, trying to work out how to bring you back to him.

“I hope you're not ashamed on account of me? Ain’t nothing prettier I’ve seen, lettin' go for me like that.” 

“But I made a mess.” 

“Just as well Grimshaw ain’t here to scold us about laundry then. ‘Sides, if we hang them by the fire, they’ll be dry by the mornin'. No harm done.” 

You feel his rough palm tenderly cup your cheek, angling your face to his and placing a light kiss at the end of your nose. “I hope you won’t see me different now, Arthur.” Your voice is shaky as it suddenly strikes you how exhausted you feel, body totally spent, laying heavy like lead in his arms. 

“I sees you for who you are; that ain’t changin.” He says earnestly, “We should rest, though; we've got an early rise.” You can still feel him hard as a rock against your hip and wonder if it causes him discomfort. As your eyes trail downwards, he lets out a knowing laugh. “Plenty of time for that after tomorrow.” 

After tomorrow?

He lifts you up to sit on the chair in the corner of the room, wrapping one of the unsullied blankets around your shoulders, another around his waist as he strips down the bed. Thankfully, your release has only soaked through the quilted throw, leaving the linens underneath untouched. He pulls back the sheet and beckons you over. 

As your head hits the pillow, you feel the pull of sleep dragging you towards it, but then you realise Arthur has yet to follow suit. You sit bolt upright, eyes searching around the room for him needily.

“Hey, I’m just here. I weren’t sure if you’d want me in the bed or not. I didn’t wanna assume nothin'.” You practically roll your eyes at his honorableness, as if he wasn’t buried tongue-deep in you no more than five minutes earlier. You reach out a sleepy hand towards him.

“I couldn’t rightfully allow my husband to sleep on the floor now, could I?” you smirk as Arthur finally makes his way over to the bed and tucks himself in tight beside you, wrapping you up underneath his chin.  It’s not long before you are drifting off into a deep sleep, with thoughts about what happens after tomorrow filling your dreams. 🍑

[lefarte]

I wanna know how funger boys will be like as a father :3 (if they are even there and not for the milk)

This is a long one but a good one

(I did not do the funger 1 cast because we basically already know what they’d be like as fathers but I can do that in a seperate one)

Daan

I think he would cry when the child is born.

He would drop smoking for the baby, you wouldn’t even notice until suddenly all the cigarettes in the house are gone. He doesn’t want his kid to grow up seeing him smoke, nor drink for that matter.

I think he’d worry a lot about being like his parents, so he’d overcompensate by hovering around the baby 24/7. You’d hardly get any chances to change the baby yourself because the moment he hears a cry he literally jumps out of his seat and goes RUNNING.

For the first few years he’d be very overprotective of both you and the baby. Especially the first few weeks, where he would not even leave the house. The only way to convince him to go outside would be together, while taking the baby in a stroller. And he wouldn’t want to walk far… what if the baby gets tired…

Money is no issue. He’s been living off the Eihner’s inheritance for quite a while. While he’d still have to go back to work eventually (he wants to save most of that money for the kids) I believe he would be a full time dad for at least 4 years.

He sometimes lets his baby wear his eyepatch.

Levi

Well, he doesn’t exactly have great sex ed, and times were different back then, so…. Becoming a teen father is entirely in the picture here.

He’d be terrified. He’s an addict, he has no job, he’s homeless, there’s not a penny to his name. He can’t support a family. But it’s not like he can just drop the kid at an orphanage, especially knowing everything that happens there.

I think the first thing he would do is try to find work. Sell everything that he has, sell his army uniform, sell his gun, hell he’ll even steal if he needs to. It’s one thing if he lives in poverty, but he can’t let his kid go hungry.

He’d have to work long hours suffering from withdrawal. But at least you can rest easy knowing that he’ll never go back to drugs. He doesn’t want his baby to even know that he used to be a soldier or anything that happened in his past.

He’s really fond of the baby. He has a quiet way of showing it, but he speaks to the child very softly, holds their little hand and watches over them when they sleep.

A nice thing about Levi as a dad is that he sleeps and moves so lightly that if the baby ever cries at night he can get out of bed to check on them without you ever waking up from your sleep.

“It’s so nice that our baby always sleeps through the night!” “Yeah…. 😐”

He would struggle as a father, he would not be the perfect dad, but he would try his hardest and would definitely not leave.

O’saa

He is so proud of the baby all the time even when they’re doing absolutely nothing. Like, bragging to everyone about how he has the smartest baby of all time when they’re just sitting there chilling and playing with toys.

After the birth he would want to host a celebration, to let the baby meet their family back from Abyssonia and your family as well. (Maybe a week or so after the birth as to not overwhelm you.)

His parents would spoil the baby (and you!) rotten with gifts. You’d have to beg them not to spend their whole salary on toys for them. I think Osaa would be a little embarassed as well.

One thing about Osaa as a dad is that he doesn’t do ‘baby talk’. He talks to the baby straight out of the womb as if it’s a fully grown human being, having full conversations with them.

“Gagaga….” “I see 🤔” “bababa ga ba” “and then what 🤨?”

So when the baby learns to speak they talk JUST like him. They don’t babble they go “Hello. May I have the juice.”

If the kid has long hair he’d braid it in very intricate styles, with beads of their favorite colors and everything. And he’d dress them up in unreasonably expensive clothes for a toddler. Like, why does the 3 year old need 200$ shoes…..

Overall, he’d be a little strict as a father, but a good father nonetheless.

Tanaka

When the baby is born, he sees how tiny they are and tears up on the spot. He makes a sacred vow there at the hospital to dedicate his whole life to making his baby smile.

He wants to spoil his kid and give them everything his father never gave him growing up. So that means he’s a complete sucker. Every toy the baby wants, they get. They want ice cream? They’re getting ice cream. They want to play at the park? Well, now you have to put your shoes on, because you’re going to the park.

He doesn’t let the baby meet their grandparents on his side.

He would only have about a month and a half of parental leave. On the first day he has to go back to work he hugs the baby goodbye and sends the baby into a crying fit, only for him to come back in like 4 hours because he took the absolute smallest amount of work he could take.

He spends at least an hour every day teaching the baby Japanese, so now you have a baby that speaks a language that you (probably) don’t understand. Now the kid is saying stuff like “キャンディーが欲しい” and every single time you have to explain that you don’t understand that before they start crying.

Group hugs every time he gets home from work!

Marcoh

The baby’s whole hand could barely fit around his pinky finger…

He’s always afraid that the baby will be scared of him so he speaks so quietly and gently around them. So as a result the baby has a soft voice when they talk. I think they’re also a naturally quiet baby just like he was as a kid, they don’t throw tantrums or scream.

You have to convince him, no, the baby’s not scared of you, it’s literally YOUR kid.

He tells the baby stories of his home in Vatican City and the memories he and his sister shared together. He gets a little quiet when the kid asks if they can visit someday.

It’s been nearly 20 years since his parents died. He doesn’t grieve them anymore, but sometimes he prays and wishes they could give him advice on how to be as good of parents as they were. He wishes the baby could meet them, but he can’t even visit their graves.

Also, his sister is going to hang around. Your kid and her kid are going to be raised close to each other. Keeping his family close is important to Marcoh so you’re going to have to deal with Christmas celebrations, thanksgiving, etcetera.

When the kid gets old enough to go to kindergarten Marcoh will want to teach them a bit of self-defense, just to be safe. It’s a good way for them to bond, and it’s funny seeing the tiny kid beating on a huge punching bag.

Henryk

Sobs when the baby is born, he can’t even pretend he’s not. He never wants to let go once he holds them.

The baby lives a good, cozy life in a small house in the countryside of Rondon. They’re not gonna be rich, but they’re gonna be comfortable all their life and have a happy family.

He doesn’t like his kid to sleep alone, he’s putting the crib as close to the bed as possible so he can keep an eye out while he sleeps.

The baby’s grandma is going to be very active in their lives. It’s good for you two, it puts a lot of pressure off for if you ever need someone to babysit, and the baby loves her too.

Yes, of course, the baby will learn how to cook. It’s only natural that they’ll see him working in the kitchen and want to ‘help’. Of course he keeps them away from hot stoves and knives, usually he just holds them up on his chest and allows them to stir a pot or something while he supervises.

I can imagine him trying to encourage them to play outside by playing tag or some kind of ball game and totally getting his ass kicked. Like not even “I let them win because they’re a kid”, totally destroyed. Embarassingly so. Next time they’re doing something indoors like coloring books.

Your house is gonna be right next to his restaraunt, so when he goes back to work, your kid is gonna be that kid doing math homework on one of the restaraunt tables.

Pav

I’m going to be honest with yall. Pre-Kaiser injury, he’s leaving for milk and not coming back.

He does not want the kid to grow up with a father like him, who’s a Bremen soldier, a drunkard, a smoker and a womanizer. He has shit to do, he could die literally at any time, and he’d be a horrible father. They’ll be happier without him. So he’ll leave you with some money for the trouble and walk out.

Post Kaiser injury, he’s more… somber. He can’t remember having ever held a baby. Having his own feels strange. The kid will grow up to resent him when they learn his past, and that’s hard to bear.

He will just ask you directly, “Do you really want me to raise this kid?” And if you say yes he’ll stay. You did save him after all. He could at least do one decent thing for your sake.

Money will be an issue. After he was mortally wounded, holding a steady job will be difficult. And it’s not like he has any family to support him. For a few months until he recovers you’d probably be living off what he made as a lieutant plus him doing some odd jobs, which is not exactly great, but keeps you afloat.

As inexperienced as he is, he’s pretty overprotective, especially during the younger years. He’s constantly holding the baby like someone is going to take them from him. The only other person who’s allowed to hold the baby is you and whoever you hand them to. And when you hand them to somebody, he stands upright with his hands behind his back like he’s on guard duty. (He gets embarassed if you mention it.)

Like even if some poor old woman tries to pinch the babies cheek at the supermarket he straight up growls, you have to make him stop.

He’s physically affectionate, he likes to play fight with the kid (he lets them win to make them feel stronger), poke them and ruffle their hair. He also likes the whole family to sleep in one bed to preserve warmth, that’s how he was raised.

Bonus, the kid knows how to say “fuck” and “shit” by 2 years old.

August

August is already a father, and he’s a little old to be getting you pregnant. So, yeah.

Caligura

He leaves you. And not only does he leave you no child support, he STEALS your money. Negative child support.

[the-californicationist]

Dearest, I find myself once again on my knees, hoping to scratch your brain for any crumbs of The Old Way universe. Just, have you had any thoughts on that au of how the characters are, what they're up to, or what dynamics have been built or are/would be shaping up to be?

I'm the same anon that asked a while ago and truly ignore this if this too much or annoying. I was just hoping if you could spare any crumbs of your goregous, genius mind. ilysm 🧎‍♀️💕 (also I'm in love with how you wrote priest/vamp price, amazing work on that!)

Hey anon! I’m so glad you liked vampire priest price! He was a fun one.

As for The Old Way, boy howdy, do I have thoughts!

Cause like, chapter two is obviously a hyper realistic exposition on the actual tradition of the bonded mating ritual between reader and Price, right?

Maybe this is a hear me out moment, but Omegaverse fics intrigue me for three main reasons which I will outline below and elaborate on in way too much detail:

1. The fuck-or-die element of the heat/rut cycle

2. The fantastical/unrealistic physical stretch required to take a knot

3. The fantastical/unrealistic duration (and lack of a refractory period) that a knot remains inside of its hole

To clarify…

As for the first, this is the true animalistic element, imo. And what’s hotter than sexual need, right? Like the feeling of sexual starvation being sated??? It makes my brain turn into literal mush. The first bite of food after a fast. The first sip of cool water after a march through the desert. The first gasp of air after swimming up from the deepest depths. The first touch of skin on naked skin when you’ve been writhing and needing and alone. Ugh. Fuck me up with that shit.

As for the second, I mean this is sort of personal preference and self-explanatory but I’m a girth>length fan. As is immediately obvious when you read anything I’ve written. But specifically in this fic; here’s a man who feels unworthy of love. His fat monster cock hurt someone he cared for. As fun as it is to haul around the State Fair Blue Ribbon schlong, no one likes being left out (or 13th-wheeling in Price’s case). And when he finds his glass slipper of a mate, he feels whole again. She saves him, and she saves the day, and it’s the happily ever after of my dreams. Yay, love!

But. Here’s the kicker. Number three. Number three keeps me up at night, y’all. It plagues me. It’ll sneak into my thoughts while I’m in the middle of my daily tasks, sucker-punching me right in the chest. Idk about other Omegaverses, but the idea that we could be stretched out and stuck on John Price’s Texas-sized dong for hours (and that there is a fantastical/unrealistic element of a pain-free, pleasurable experience on our end?) is delicious. Imagine, he’s trapped himself deep within you, oozing hot come, giving you that incredible feeling of fullness, and you are just basking in it together, enjoying the sparkling electricity of every twitch and jerk of his phallus. He’s reading Yeats to you and you’re grooming his soft, curling hair, he’s keeping your energy up by feeding you grapes and honey and wine and mead, he’s sharing his hand-rolled cigars with you, letting you feel the high of the nicotine and kissing you languidly, his lips so soft and pliant that you feel as if your two bodies might melt together like smooth chocolate, homogeneous in a way that no one else will ever know. All the while, your womb is full of his heavy load, stuffed and ladden with his seed, making your belly just the slightest bit round. He feels it with his wide palm, and you can’t help but imagine how you might be thus revered when you’re heavy with his child instead.

And how long?? I mean, what’s possible here — even if we abandon plausible? An hour? Two? A night? And how often? Would his rut drive him to mate with you repeatedly in a self-sacrificing/mindless sex-driven fury? Would bonded mates be capable of something more than normal ones? What are your true powers as the Apex Omega? So many questions.

So anyway. Sorry for the hear-me-out. I recognize that not everyone is as zealously curious about the implications of an Omegaverse as I am. I just think there’s so many different ways it could go. The universe itself has so many variable possibilities and that makes it easy to create and to be creative with it. It becomes even more interesting when you compound the sexual complications with the socio-cultural context of a community dealing with that sort of hierarchical environment. Just a world of interesting knots to untangle (pun intended and weaponized).

But, I’d also like to explore the other interpersonal relationships between our lovable companions. What’s Johnny’s big loving family like? How do the kids interact with each other? Is there a leader emerging from the MacTavish clan? What about Gaz and his three Omegas? Ghost and his mini tactical squad? All of them together? What drives them to help other clans? What’s their underlying mission? How will they ensure peace across the land? How do they allocate the obviously limited resources?

It would be a fun project to navigate. I’ve written scenes here and there for it but I’ve gotta finish these other long WIPs before I start something else.

Thanks for asking! I hope this answered your question.

[hxhhasmysoul]

Okay so I have read this other translations where sukuna said kenjaku sealed his finger in yuji making him cg player by birth and to strengthen his body as host so yuuji carries a part of sukuna's soul . If you want panel I can send you.

What you said about reincarnations is right and gege also pretty much followed the similar route.

The hair thing yuji has might be because of assimilation of sukuna's finger in him coz body=soul and this kind of make me want to consider yuji as similar to cursed corpse... And we still haven't seen jin hair color and wasuke was old .

Another thing I was reminded by your ans was, it was always said maki chose HR and rejected jujutsu first by maki then sukuna implying she did it out of her own volition but when could this have happened, now sukuna's eating his brother in womb statement reminds me of a phenomenon in certain religion where they say babies retains memories and when in womb but forgets after their birth . I am saying this coz both maki and sukuna are twins so they might be conscious enough to do things while in womb.

Not to forget womb / pregnancy itself is a significant theme in jjk and of course womb realm...

Lol I am babbling at this point coz I am happy that yuuji is not twin and not even biologically related as I wanted him to be..

Your ask and this reply by @cursedvibes got me to reread what Sukuna says. His words may be mistranslated, the official translation isn't out yet and I don't have the raws, but he could kinda hung up on his first murder.

The hair thing was a joke, you're absolutely right that we don't know if Jin's hair is peach, I hope it is :D

As to the finger the translation vary whether the finger sealing and the culling games player things are connected.

But the womb thing.

I kinda think it's funny how Sukuna talks about his twin in some of the translation and I'm curious what it looks like in the original. He talks about consuming part of himself, but then the translation says "our soul" and "his soul". If he really use some for of "we" and a third person pronoun (gendered or not), it's really interesting.

He kinda bounces between acknowledging his twin as a separate being and talking about the twin like something that belonged to Sukuna. I also don't think he's ever before justified a murder he committed. He uses the circumstances as a justification, he puts blame on his/their mother.

He first says he rejected the fate of being a twin and it sounds like: I did it for power. As if he knee back then that being a twin in the jujutsu world sucks. So maybe he was actually conscious in the womb, he had memories, memories of jujutsu. Of course he might be rationalising here something the regularly occurs with twins, aka one absorbing the other without any conscious decision being involved.

But then he talks about self-preservation. He never says he killed his twin, he absorbed part of himself which also kinda sounds like a justification. If he sees the twin as part of himself, if it's "their" soul, he saved them both by consuming the twin. If he didn't eat his twin, all parts of him would've died. He and his twin.

He also seems to see Yuuji as a separate being from himself. A vessel made for him, for sure, someone related to him, but not like with his twin, not like a part of himself. Yuuji has inherited things from Sukuna's twin and Sukuna acknowledges it, but I can't imagine him thinking that he and Yuuji have the same soul.

He also doesn't seem mad that his twin's soul lead a separate life from him. And he doesn't seem to see it as his own life. It's also interesting how all his disgust and annoyance is at Kenjaku, he never questions that his twin had kids with Kenjaku. He never considers that his twin might hold a grudge against him, regardless whether it was how the twin felt or not. Is it him being selfish? Emotionally inept? Protecting himself from the thought that his twin might hate him? Thus from the thought that he'd done wrong by him?

It kinda makes me think he's got a lot of feelings related to the twin and to what happened between them in womb, consciously or not, and he's just refusing to feel these feelings XD

[cambria-light]

"Gojo-sensei," Yuuji's head appeared in a door entrance, "may I come in?"

"Oh, sure, Yuuji!" Gojo stopped checking his students' tests and placed his glance on exact beloved student. "Do you want something?"

Yuuji entered and closed the door. He was sweating out of worry despite they two were dating for a long time and Itadori isn't ashamed of Satoru now. Boy head to Gojo, who is sitting on a chair, next to him.

"Ah, actually..." Yuuji was a bit ashamed of asking for that, but his state wasn't really healthy for some time, "I'd like to skip next lesson. I don't feel really well and don't know why. Maybe I should visit Ieri-san"

Gojo took a look without blindfold at his boy. Then he smiled.

"That's because you're pregnant, Yuuji-chan" Gojo stands up right in front of Itadori.

Yuuji didn't believe.

"Satoru, this isn't funny. I ate something bad and that's why..."

"Yuuji, I see our cursed energy mixed in your belly You're really pregnant"

"Yeah, Satoru. Cool joke." Itadori crossed arms. "I'm male. That's impossible. Of you want to break up then you should say that directly. I remember how you told me that you don't want a family"

"No, Yuuji-kun, listen" Satoru hugged Yuuji extremely tight. He wants to show his support and love. He wants to comfort Yuuji. "That's, probably, because you are womb for Sukuna's cursed energy and maybe that played a trick with us and you managed to save my cursed energy when it flew into you with... Eer... I hope you got, dear. I clearly see my cursed energy in a your cursed energy place. And they are mixed. I saw something like that in other pregnant sorcerers"

Yuuji. Yuuji doesn't know how to react. What will be next? He is only student. He is too young. No, he likes kids and wanted one, but Satoru... Tears appeared on Itadori's eyes.

"Hey, darling," Gojo swiped wet eyes. "I'm here, with you. We will overcome that together. But if you don't want a child then we will do..."

"No! I... I want child... But... You..."

"You are worried about my words earlier?"

Yuuji nods.

"Silly," Gojo smiles warmly, "I wouldn't leave even if you got pregnant right the next day after my words"

[democratthatlovesguns]

Jesus Is King

A shame that JD Vance participated in a well orchestrated plan to use religion to manipulate people.

If it wasn't so obvious, maybe we could try to believe the entire narrative was a happenstance. But it's as clear as the bribes for votes Elon Musk is handing out.

Reconciliation of God, the Holy Spirit, and Man is a matter between God, the Holy Spirit and every individual. Because our relationship with God is the most subjective experience we will ever live, we should not allow ourselves to use our religious beliefs to determine a matter whose nature requires objectivity of the highest degree, such as the law of the land.

We can live and let live, as followers of Jesus Christ. To be clear, I oppose abortion personally, as a matter of faith. However, if a woman I laid with became pregnant and unfortunately she miscarries or experiences an ectopic pregnancy, I would have no reservation with her deciding to abort our child to preserve her life. I would equally support her if she decides to do everything in her power (take any risk including losing her life), to save our child's life.

I understand, there are many women that share the experience of Wendy Davis (Forgetting to Be Afraid). A woman that wanted nothing more than to birth a healthy strong baby, but unfortunately her baby could not survive outside her womb. And Wendy had to endure the devastating experience of watching her baby fight to breathe, until her baby choked and died in her arms. I am in no place to judge Wendy nor to shun her for wanting to make that impossible decision; a decision many woman face on a daily basis in America and around the world.

If someone tells you you're not a true follower of Jesus Christ because you do not want to support them politically, ask yourself this: are they truly followers of Jesus Christ if they support being a false witness of the following:

Bigoted belief that nonwhite immigrants are eating cats and dogs.

Bigoted belief that Jewish people (and political opponents) control the weather and use it to harm others.

Gross belief that refugees are an infestation to be marginalized and their actions criminalized, justified through the verifiable fact that a small minority of them may commit criminal acts. How many Native Americans were brutally murdered by early settlers (the original refugees)?

The even grosser belief that followers of Jesus Christ and even non-followers would execute a child after birth.

Win or lose, I will continue to pray for an America that is a haven for all women. A place in the world in which women are free to express themselves and be themselves as much as any man. A place in which no government has the right to regulate a woman's body as adamantly as they do not regulate a man's body.

A place in which God is Always King on a personal level, while the law is free of any religious doctrine.

[arabellaa222]

that the one who cares less has the upper hand always is what my mom says and only unfolded disasters can stem those assertive convictions cause she's just like her doomed womb that birthed her second daughter. second.the one who's underlying. yk like weeds in a crop. the kind which is direly and sadly undesired. agony and disparity that echoed from a hospital room 20 years ago. look where you got me holy mother. salt streams are springing on a silk pillowcase softer in theory but a fucking con irl .these mirrors can't help but reflect back my eyebags in dim mauve light that look godly when swelled with morosed disposition of past lives. and well of course, decades long of captivation from self and unrequited desire to be the one. heart beats are reaching for peaks except I am bedridden and freezed. my mom loathes to admit she's just like me. what does even separate the soul from the bones. she's going with me to my grave but I don't think she'd stand that test. she scolds me on the phone while I'm anxious pacing in my dorm room for giving too much of me to people who think of me barely, people who have buried me beneath the grounds of apathy. we pull the blame game on one another shouting "why are you mad at me what did I do wrong?"but she's right though she has seen it all and I see her violets glistening like dead winter snow, slipping through the cracking bricks of our house walls, a justice not so poetic, and turning to obliteration, effaced by the loved and the best mates I scream and bellow like a feral fucking wolf. she nods like she understands and "I told you so" oozes out of her plain expressive eyes. I get it, she doesn't want me to turn out like her. but mom im already on the road of apocalyptic dark blues. im halfway there im afraid im too far gone to be saved. if only someone could pull me out,just listen to me please and maybe this time let the weapons where they lay. passing years would cut me through like a machete I was unaware. none of the rivers are flowing like perfect streams and merging with estuaries. I'd be bitter and saline and exotically misunderstood and im ashamed to say the least to just sit here and watch everyone reach new skies while excuse me gotta rot in a well crafted reverie. "I love you more! take me back!"perusing my bedroom floor waiting for a damned phone call. like a wraith of you and me by the door. just gonna watch and touch and fucking leave this once too.

[ink-sunflower]

Beauty day (Choso x Reader)

One short How about to let Choso try some skincare products.

Choso x Reader Words: ~700 TW: No spoilers, Fluff

"What is it?" Strong arms envelop me from behind. The voice belongs to no other than the powerful death painting womb, the eldest of them, Choso. Though, one of his titles now is “my significant other”.

Today is one of the few days, when I can spend some time for my own pleasure. Life as a jujutsu sorcerer is one full of adventures for sure, though it's not always a perk. What is a good way to wash away traits of numerous battles and let your body and soul finally take a breath of fresh air? To have a beauty day! 

So, I prepared a whole set of skincare products from toner to face roller.  

Choso's interest piqued a mask that I was about to apply on my face. His face might not show transparent emotions, but his facial expressions are always genial. Just like now, the glint in his purple-brown orbs is shining like a beacon in the night.

(a/n what is the colour of his eyes? In anime it’s blown, but in manga purple. Or maybe I got something wrong?)

An idea pops into my mind, just like Gojo Satoru when he hears his name in a conversation. 

"Choso, I think you should learn at first hand." A mischievous grin graces my face.

He stares at me with a hint of bewilderment and uneasiness but does not object when I take his hand and lead to the couch. I gently push Choso down to let him completely occupy the soft place. 

"Now Choso you have to unconditionally trust me. Even you feel itchy, ticklish, cold or any other odd feeling on your skin." Teasing him, I close Choso's eyes. I stroke my hand on over his pale skin, caressing with my fingertips the mark on the bridge of his nose. My fingers linger on his lips for a few seconds, and when I feel him taking a deep ragged breath I take my hand away. 

"I'm not sure if I want to partake in it," though Choso's statement does not meet with his actions since he makes no move to get up. 

I go to the bathroom to bring my discarded face mask and jade roller. 

I apply carefully a sheet mask to his face and began to smooth it with a massager. He does not look, but lies quietly, obediently savouring it.

His strained and stern posture dissolved into the soft sofa cushions, allowing himself to relax under the fresh sensation. 

"So, how does it feel?" I ask my boyfriend when I notice a small smile of satisfaction blooming on him. 

"It's not bad," he replies promptly.

"I have one more thing for you, but maybe it's enough for you then." With humour in my tone, I tease him.

"No, please proceed," he murmurs, eliciting a chuckle from me. 

I keep on moving the roller over his face for a further couple of minutes and removed the mask.

"I think I'll like the next part," I tell from the bathroom, preparing the next step of his skin care.

"Is it a kiss?" 

"Huh, no. Not yet, at least. " 

He just hums at my answer, but the smile widens.

Opening the pack, I pull out a set of patches and place them under his eyes. I chose ones that shimmer with gold. 

I can't take my eyes from the view. Choso, wearing eyepatches, placid, with a slight smile on his face, relishing every moment. I should, no. I must, I must save the image of it. 

I pull a phone from my pocket and take some pictures. After Choso realised my intentions, we ended up getting a whole photoshoot. 

That's how I get a dozen of pictures 

Looking through the results of our photoshoot, now without beauty products on our faces, Choso tenderly hugs me closer to him, and hovering over my face, he sweetly whispers:

"Do I get a kiss now?" 

…..

How was it? It’s been a while since I wrote something. Please, please, leave feedback 🙏

[muffinsin]

Could you maybe expand on the Cassandra tentacle aphrodisiac thing? Like maybe the eggs that hatch need to, god how do I phrase this, climb back into her womb for like…. The warmth/liquid? And maybe they produce aphrodisiacs idk sorry- 🥚 anon

Yet more to our lovely monsterfucking series! Let’s get into it! ;)

(Part 1- here, part 2- here, part 3- here)

Masterlists

Cassandra awoke from the sound of large raindrops falling down onto the water surface. The sound was muffled, yet unmistakably there.

She still felt the large tentacle inside her ass, stuffing it and trapping all the cum that had been shot inside of her in the stretched hole.

To her horror, she felt herself “healing”, her ass tightening again while the monstrosity of the monster’s tendril was still inside of her.

She felt precum drool from it as this seemed to almost milk the tentacle, adding to more cum trapped inside of her. She wondered how it didn’t come drooling out from her other holes yet, really

Upon looking to her side and seeing the broken eggs, her eyes widened. Whatever was in had now hatched, she realised.

She startled at the loud noise from above the water- thunder? Yes, it sounded like that, even from below the surface.

To her horror, however, she was not the only being startled by it. Golden eyes widened when many little organisms came swimming to her, looking hardly bigger or different than tadpoles save for the small tentacles that stuck out.

She gasped when they settled all on her chest, and shrieked underwater as tiny teeth pierced her skin and small suctions, almost, latched onto her enlarged nipples.

What?

She groaned and shivered, attempting to swat the things off. In return, they merely latched onto her sore breasts harder.

She realised, these were the small things that must have hatched from the eggs. A dozen or so hatched, at this moment clinging to her chest.

She shivered as the water grew a little colder due to the storm.

And again, Cassandra was not the only one to notice it. She jumped when suddenly all little tadpole-looking organisms swam about, sliding down her body and between her legs. With her widening eyes, she came to realise their goal.

“Wha-AH! No! Wait!”, she shrieked, her hand coming down to cover her stretched and bred pussy desperately. Yet, it seemed to barely be of use.

The little hatchlings sought comfort and warmth back in her womb, it seemed. And she was unable to deny them, for even as she covered her cunt, they still slipped through her fingers and the small gaps left.

Cassandra moaned lowly as she felt them bump against her, the tickling sensation of their small body sliding down from her breasts and to her thighs, some bumping against the round cheeks of her ass and getting lost, others immediately aiming back for the poor, sensitive woman’s womb.

She gasped as the last one too slipped inside of her despite her futile attempt of blocking them out.

“U-Ughh, out!”, she demanded, panting and feeling teased yet again. She clenched around the tentacle keeping her ass stretched as she felt the beings inside of her, content in the warmth her womb offered.

She felt it, then, the warmth suddenly overtaking her.

“Whaaahhh, wha-aat!”, Cassandra gasped breathlessly, her eyes pressing shut and sweet lips falling open as moans tumbled from her. She felt so warm suddenly, and wet. She dared slide a fingertip through her slit and gasped again at how wet she is.

No, not merely wet. Entirely soaked. The bred woman whimpers at the aphrodisiac induced wetness again, her entire body yet again set aflame. She felt her arousal, and grew overly alert of the tentacle deep in her.

Upon looking to the side, she noticed the creature was unmoving. She was unsure if it slept, but either way it seemed to not have taken notice of what happened yet.

Cassandra mewled quietly as she slipped two fingers inside of her and small, tentacle like limbs reached out and grabbed two more to pull them inside of her.

“Great..”, she gasped, her legs spreading carefully as she tended to her soaked pussy. She felt the hatchlings in her, and felt as though the tiny tentacles sticking from them drooled more and more of the aphrodisiac inside of her.

She whimpered helplessly, for even her four fingers didn’t feel like enough after the brutal stuffing she had gone through.

Cassandra realised with a blush, she was utterly ruined for anyone else, including herself. She needed this monster’s tentacles inside of her, badly.

With shaky hands she grabbed the tendrils below her and lifted herself, moaning as the tentacle in her ass slid more and more out of her.

Perhaps, if she was only careful enough, she could get it out and push it inside her tightening pussy?

She felt so needy, her poor nipples erect and aching. Cassandra reached up to cup her own breast with one hand, her thumb sliding over the neglected little bud.

Her lips parted as a low, breathless moan slipped past. It seemed, the aphrodisiac drooled in her womb was even stronger than the one shot down her throat previously. Or perhaps simply more effective, considering it was where Cassandra wanted pleasure the most.

She winced as she lifted herself a little more, her tight ass clinging onto the tentacle harshly.

She groaned at the wet cum moving about inside, as well as the tadpole-like hatchlings rubbing up against the inner walls of her womb, seemingly basking in her warmth.

Cassandra whimpered when more and more of the tentacle slipped out of her, and with it large amounts of cum that simply slid down her ass cheeks, thighs and legs.

Only a little bit of the tentacle was left, merely the tip! Yet, when Cassandra tugged on it, it suddenly curled within her, causing her to shriek in surprise.

She gasped in surprise and shock when tentacles moved about around and below her, grabbing her slim ankles and pulling them apart. More tendrils slid up her thighs and hips, slinging around her stomach and wrapping around her sensitive, perky breasts.

Cassandra moaned and gasped helplessly as she was trapped yet again, her hips grinding senselessly, her pussy clenching around nothing and her ass drooling cum that was previously shot inside of her.

“Please…!”, she begged, although in her hazy and horny state, the poor brunette had no idea whether she begged to be released or fucked harder than ever.

It seemed, the beast chose for her.

Cassandra groaned as the tentacle pulled out of her ass, stretching her once more as the tip moved out, and squeaked when it slapped against her round ass cheeks roughly. “Sto-op that!”, she shrieks, attempting to squirm as she was disciplined for her sneaky attempt of secret pleasure.

Cassandra cried frustratedly as a tendril moved between her spread lips, the slimey tip moving and forcing itself down her tight and sore throat.

She ached to feel something inside her sopping wet pussy, so much so that tears covered her cheeks and begged helplessly despite how it made her feel like a mere whore for the monster.

It seemed to take pity on her, or perhaps merely followed the primal wish to breed her yet again. Cassandra choked out a moan and groans as a tendril tip slid between her soaked pussy lips, gathering wetness until it eventually pushed itself inside her stretched cunt.

She felt her sloppy wet southern lips parting around it and groaned against the tendril in her mouth as it slide inside, stretching her along its way and rubbing up against her inner walls in a way her fingers never could.

“Mghnnnmm!”, she moaned, her head thrown back and eyes closed even as her ass was smacked over and over again. She felt even hotter at the pain, upon knowing of the marks the hard slaps would leave on her.

Her legs twitched, her arms tugging to stop the tentacles when she felt her orgasm so embarrassingly near already.

They had barely just slipped inside! Yet, she was overly sensitive and needy due to the aphrodisiac warming her body and womb.

She shrieked when the tendril inside of her pussy thrust deeper, inside her womb and enough to make the hatchlings scatter about.

Cassandra felt them move within her as she was fucked, the smaller tentacles and tiny bodies rubbing up against her inner walls as they clung to them.

At last, when her ass adapted a nice, red-blue colour and the creature seemed satisfied, it pushed itself back against the tight hole.

“Mghmm! MHMM!”, Cassandra screamed, yet her complaints and shrieks were all silenced when her throat was merely fucked harder and faster.

More warm tears ran down her cheeks as her breasts were squeezed the small suction tentacles returned to her nipple and clit. She felt so sensitive, so overwhelmed that she came with the next few thrusts of the tendril inside of her pussy.

It seemed, though, Cassandra had made a mistake asking her monstrous “lover” to help her relieve the ache between her legs, as when she hit her orgasm, it merely continued pleasuring her, thrusting deep down her throat and expanding it.

She felt her breasts and limbs squeezed and stroked, her little clit and thick nipples sucked and toyed with. Cassandra groaned at the bulge in her lower stomach caused whenever the tentacle hit the back of her womb.

All too soon she felt her second orgasm chasing the first already.

Cassandra gagged on the large tentacle in her mouth, golden eyes wide and teary when the thick head of the other tendril pushed against the once again relatively tight, soaked hole of her ass.

She felt it’s tip push inside for a moment, merely enough to stretch, then, with a scream falling from her stretched mouth, it pushed itself back inside, curling and sliding, pumping in and out of her.

“Mghmmmm! MHNOOO!”, She screamed, right at the edge of her second orgasm already.

Had she not been held tight by the tendrils around her, surely her body would bounce like a rag doll at the harsh treatment.

Cassandra felt herself be turned, the tendril slipping from her mouth and patting her cheek instead. She groaned as she was held in a doggy position, fucked on her restrained hand and knees as the tentacles kept pushing deeper and harder and rubbed her inner walls and G-Spots sore.

She was moved closer to the creature, golden, teary eyes looking up at it as she was pushed towards a tentacle she had never seen before.

A size twice the one of the tentacles inside of her and rivaling the size of both her arms, it was pushed up against her face.

The poor, stretched and claimed brunette knew; she would not last much longer.

Cassandra attempted to stretch her lips mouth wide, yet the tip even was too big to fit inside. She feared what would be done to her, how it would leave her utterly gaped should the monstrosity be forced into her.

Alas, she was lucky, when yet another tendril merely wrapped around her neck and pulled her downwards, her tongue and mouth smudged against the fat tip of the the tentacle, the soft, round head warm against her face.

She whimpered as she licked and lifted it with her tongue, licking and kissing the thing while her two roles were ruined.

She shivered as she sucked as best as she could, the pleasure between her legs and on her clit nearly unbearable.

Cassandra felt the monstrosity thrust against her face as she orgasmed, screaming and drooling for it just the way the creature seemed to like it.

With teary eyes she stared up, panting and gulping as the tendrils shot cum inside of her and against her face and chest.

She knew, this was not the end.

[no-gram]

ACT1 Bizarre Poems

Hey, you. You know, don't you? Outside of this dream system of ours. A character that doesn't exist. A curse. A little tea party. This is a kind of boundary that is about to break.

Thinking back, it might have been the same at that time.

In the middle of the night My heart pauses for a moment That's when I have scary dreams.

There is a wall between me and those girls. I'm not talking about distance. There is a literal wall. I've been here so long, it feels like I've been here since birth, but I still clearly remember being brought here by her. Today I dream again that tomorrow I will be killed.

One day, there was a crack in this wall. Another day, the crack got bigger. I don't know what is beyond this crack, because there is only a mercury lamp here. But I can see the glittering neon lights on the other side. Maybe it's heaven on the other side.

When you want to kill one person When you want to kill someone You're the only one? and you come to me

the sound of something cracking in my head. 　I wish I could go on and on and on and on and on and on …… and …… the sound of me laughing

'ohohohohohohohohoho' 'yihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihi' “hahahahahahahahahahaha” “huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh.” Rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle. Rumble-rattle-rattle-rattle. Rumble, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle. Serves you right

From the corner of the blue sky “from the corner of the blue sky “who's staring at me and wondering what I'm doing. You did it with flair. I would have died otherwise. What are you going to do now? I'm gonna kill all the xxx except you. I'm not gonna stop you. I'm not a admin. What are you going to do with this? Let's get her in there. I won't help you. She's not that bad. She's the one who locked me in there, and more importantly, she won't have it herself. She deserves at least a parting gift. I see.

Why didn't you say so earlier? Because it wants you to be whole. I can't go against that. Then I've done the worst thing I could ever do to them. Not really. I'm just optimizing it over and over again. What about you, what do you do? I'll just optimize. If it brings you peace. Well, I guess this is goodbye. Maybe we'll see each other again soon. We are not the cause of this ＿＿＿＿ hatred, and there is no one here to hate. “Happy birthday to you, even though it's not what I expected at all.”

Oh. What a horrible torment. This beautiful, delightful island is now a skunky hell. Oh, God. Oh, God. Why don't you just kill us both at once? …………

…… everything is a fetus's dream. …… that little girl's scream… …… this dark ceiling… …the sunlight on that window………No…no………Everything that happens today is like that……… ……I'm still in my mother's womb. I'm suffering from algae scratchings from this horrible “fetal dream”. ……

……How about it……Do you remember……your name…… ……huh Still don't get it……? ……. AHAHAHAHAHAHA. That's because you still stuck in the habit of thinking with my brain's marrow.

The real prelude went something like this, and the next time I woke up, I knew what I had to do. The number of precious things lost will crack, and the idol will be broken. I don't want that anymore. Even if no one understands me, I won't make a mistake next time.

So, so please… don't make a mistake. We have done nothing wrong. No one has made a mistake yet. The hatred that needs to be directed is in your world.

The one-winged angel, the one who doesn't want to be saved, the one who was burned by her fallen love, the one who tormented me, they were not wrong. There must be a way.

A revisionist and monstrous work, based on a quote from a monster who speaks the name of a certain dream and an afterimage from a bygone era.

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[leodoriya]

100 prompts stolen from my friends and i

(100 prompts stolen from my friends and i)

“taps the sign that says guys please let me know when you get injured i trust exactly none of you to keep yourselves alive and well” “taps the sign that says hey i never did sports” “taps the sign that says boobies” “TAPS THE SIGN THAT SAYS FINE I WILL KILL YOU ALL”

“fuck you” “SIR YES SIR”

“i so badly want you to see my piss platoon in COTL”

“p.s. do you still have your ears pierced?” “mhm!” “not for long.”

“wait would tax fraud count as adultery?”

“[name] tanking radiation poisoning for the sole reason of why not. more news at 7”

“in THIS world, it’s either SHUT up or SLUT up and i ALWAYS slay!!”

“you are like the pinnacle of every Don’t instruction on a medical ad”

“when i was young, i too once had nipples”

“and they say white people have no culture. look at all these phrases”

“you texted me and called me a slur” “yahoo!!”

“allow the mundanity of your life to be filled by them. you will find love in your kitchen on a saturday morning when they’re frying eggs and you’re figuring out how to be a person over your coffee, and though you’re bone tired exhausted you’re still well aware that they’re there by the sizzling of eggs and you like that, even through your exhaustion you like that. you will find it when you take off your shoes and place them right next to theirs by the door. when you are loved, you will find love in every place that held nothing”

“to be loved is to find joy and love and care in what otherwise seems like the mundanity of life. like. like. words. words. uh. to be loved is to settle into the comfort of the mundane because you know that youre loved and cared for and the world is beautiful”

“if i was an orb with nothing else to do i’d ruin some childhoods too”

“one of the babies has breached containment”

“i want to put every cat in my mouth”

“i can’t stop writing my fingers don’t wanna stop fingering and these words just keep wording”

“[pet] has become catholic”

“ah yes, my favourite animal: the gun”

“i will eat the fetuses of your inhuman children you have hatefully inserted inside my chicken eggs with the prideful knowledge that i am saving the teeth of future children to come”

“you monster… i like how your mind works”

“what on earth happened i was playing mario kart”

“maybe i am a little coo coo guys…….. shakira shakira……..” “no the right person will love you for your alpha male swag”

“well, that’s what happens when you swipe a waterjet”

“also, he gives off bad vibes like an over cooked fish!!!!!!! remember!!!!!!!!”

“there is a small, air-filled blood cave in my foot” “as usual”

“YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOULL GET HIT BY A BUS >:)”

“[name] don’t fall for his tricks. he’s evil. a conniving little guy. with a bowl cut”

“i think you’re a culinary mad scientist”

“i’d love to punch you in the throat… but not like this, brother… not like this…”

“pissing on a dead guy rn btw” “rock on brother”

“everyone wins!! the femboy killed the business!!!”

“so i have a feeling it should be kicked into the corner like a failed organ harvest”

“current score is furry-1, god-0”

“guys…. come on…. we cannot have more than one loserfailure in this house please…..” “we’re all autistic?” “we all combine to make the loserfailure supreme” “LOSERFAILURES ROLL OUT” “we combine voltron style” “with the super long sequence” “i’ve had enough of your mouth!”

“[name] calls me milkboy because they can’t handle my milkboy swag”

“penis” “????? PENIS???????” “i’m helping you. you’re gay so i’m giving you penis. for emotional support”

“thank you for being suicidal so i can stim with your self harm scars”

“you have interesting flesh” “I HAVE INTERESTING FLESH?!”

“pull that milk cup a little bit closer so it can be like our baby…. it’s our little baby [name]….”

“STOP FOOTING MY TITS”

“i’m like a meat bullet”

“why are you so small?” “i miss the warmth of the womb” “you’re autistic”

“you are literally a dead victorian child” “don’t out him”

“half a year of man cum” “now what is wrong with you?”

“girlhood is defined not by misogyny or toys or violence but instead by stalking”

“YOU ATE MY CORPSE FIRST MAGGOT”

“sorry i’m trying to electrocute a man rn and i need both hands” “WHO???” “UHHH OWL???????? WDYM???????”

“girl relationships are kinda more complex than hieroglyphs tbh so maybe they thought that pedophilia would be the safer route idk i’m just a gaggot”

“hey girl new slur just dropped!!!”

“this song doesn’t just fuck it impregnates and raises the baby with gentle parenting”

“YOURE FRENCH AND GAY? faguette”

“YOU DOUBLE DIPLOMA DICKHEAD”

“he’s against killing unborn children but not living children?” “he likes to look them in the eyes when he kills them”

“[name] look at the dead 30 year old soul lingering in the eyes”

“LLLLLL RIP BOZOOOOOO BOOOOOOO NERRRDDDD BRO HAS AN INJURY LMAOOOOOO SKULL EMOJI TIMES SEVENNNNM” “i’m still taller than you in this wheelchair, boy” “not for long”

“[NAME] NO. you’re supposed to rest” “well maybe they should’ve thought of that before inventing capitalism”

“[NAME] HOW ARE YOU GUYS ALIVE?!”

“you’re like if a normal person got sliced in half and the legs grew their own new torso and head”

“unless you’re [name] but that’s only because [name] said i was making male whimpers and objectifying my pain” “YOU WERE”

“yeah that’s what i thought you sleepless beast”

“my boobies are bisexual i can use both to type but not very well unfortunately”

“GODDAMNIT IS THAT THE FUCKING TORTOISESHELL”

“[name] will you be my hillary clinton?” “yes i will consider you as my close personal friend”

“i love kaijus” “PACIFIC RIM? KAIJUS? SHAKES YOUR HAND” “YES” “YEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! oh the concept of being drift compatible….” “FR!!!! YOUR BRAINS!!!! MATCH UP!!!!!! assigned soulmates at brainwave technology” “LITERALLY!!! i was so normal about it when i watched pacific rim for the first time” “PREGNANCY IS SCARY!!!!” “Y YES? YOURE ON T MAN DONT WORRY” “i wanted to join in on the brains matching up but i don’t know anything about pacific rim”

“the probability of mpreg is low… but never zero. keep that condom close and your heat suppressants even closer”

“i’m finished! has [name] survived the shame yet?” “no” “lol rip bozo” “i’m going to go live in a lake house and pretend i like kissing women”

“you are all out to get me” “yeah”

“i’m just the worst person ever, huh? should i just get pregnant and give abo birth??? i guess everyone would be so much happier if i started being heterosexual??? you all think i never do anything scrumdilly yum yum for anyone, right??? that’s fine. i’ll just do what everyone wants me to do anyways. see you in five years when i’m shaped like a lizard from eating all those carrots. i hope you’re happy now.”

“OH FUWCK YOFF AL OF YIU!!!’m! I HOPE YORUE SHOWS MAKW SQUELCHWING NOSIWS WHEN YOH WALK RHOUGH THE HALLWAYS IM GONNAQ FUCKTUNG SHIT IN TWHM”

“i thought village people invented the ymca”

“guy whose body is an enigma”

“that reminds me of when [past event]” “wait. wait what the fuck. wait”

“attacks josh hutcherson with the spirit of christmas musiAUGH FUCK”

“there’s a part of me that just wants to [plan]- HOLY SHIT THAT ACTUALLY WORKED”

“i’ve gotta catch some dudes and get my beauty rest”

“leave me alone!!! my dick is tiny and the sex is bad!!! i have stale morning breath!!!”

“my grandparents are going into a home” “that, i can promise you”

“thanks man! clutches my sleep meds tightly in my toes!!”

“PENIS MAN LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO”

“STI (Strong Toes Institute)”

“you should send her a bag of organs”

“get spinned metal boy”

“HINGED [NAME] NOOOO sprays you with water”

“a brother, perhaps. one not by blood, but by shared sin. what does he know of our secrets, blanketed by the cover of night? why does he grin so eerily, as though mocking the monster i once was? now i am but a mere man, a hunter turned hunter. i fall prey to the evils that once lay on our tongue.”

“[name] do you know how scary it is to tell a joke and not hear my cackle echo back at me. nothing. just silence, and debussy.”

“what do you mean i am a respectable member of society right now that is not okay”

““i stole your mind” he says. just like that- this grey matter of mine is but an empty vessel, the pinky-white fluid leaking into her hull. as captain, i protect the oath i swore to her; my ship, my love, i go down with you. may gentle waves and great tides alike wash upon the shores: our bodies, together. once one, we are now two, as he thieves away the treasures. useless boon, worth not a pebble; but he knows, he knows- you are what made me complete. “i stole your mind” he says, but it is, too, my heart that he has plundered. not to keep or return with vows; nay, a single toss across the seas! it skips, once, twice, before the sandy bed lulls my boat to sleep.”

“good luck man i’m just gonna be over here feeling existential about my face not being mine. is this what it’s like to be high”

“i’ll remember something and instead of imagining a flash bang with something like “HORSE FROWN” in neon block letters popping out of the white i have to experience an emotion for longer than three seconds.”

“how i bagged my girl (snow day): PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OLEASE PLEADEPLASE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASE” “LET ME GET WHAT I WAAAAANNTTT” “I AM BEGGING EVERY DEITY HOLY FIGURE”

“gay man talking about bagging a girl + lesbian being a theatre major + buddhist that is only buddhist because of ethnicity and agnosticism” “THAT WAS A THE SMITHS SONG” “That Is A The Smiths Lyric” “in times of desperation humanity’s true colours shine” “[NAME] I CANT BELIEVE YOU” “the smiths have the same level of drama as a cishet theatre company so it’s fine” “damn ok”

“I WAS NOT A FUCKING DOMINATRIX FUCK YOU i just spinned people really fast on the playground until they said it ticked and was too fast and begged me to stop- wait yeah okay thats.”

“WHY ARE YOU IN BLOOD HELL??”

““be not afraid” if i saw you in the woods i would be so torn between hiding and running that i might die on the spot” “smash” “smash” “GUYS COME ON- THIS GUY???” “not that guy. the tree guy” “THAT IS THE TREE GUY” “i could make him trans”

“heh. wouldn’t you like to be liver suckled, cock boy?”

“can i trust testsigma.com?” “no” “MAN”

“ohhh now i know why you lost your nipples”

“I WILL ALTER YOUR SKIN IN WAYS THAT CANNOT BE REVERSED NOR HIDDEN. MY TOUCH WILL IMMORTALIZE ITSELF IN YOUR BONES, AND LONG AFTER WE ARE GONE, YOUR VERY ESSENCE WILL SCREAM WITH MY VOICE.”

“WE'RE FINISHING OFF WITH MY BODY MOD HOBBY???????????????????????????????????????????”

all thanks to the troop 🫡: @striderman @thevoidsflame @xansa-e03

(also PLEASE tag me or message me if you use them so my friends and i can consume it)