#and then one thing leads to another and he kisses me and i was like kind of trying to be like nooo we're just friends I'm in a relationship

[kairaloi]

I'd never expected this.

I sat at the dining table my dwarf neighbor had built for me when I first moved to the swamp. A warm ceramic mug of tea between my large clawed hands was another gift from a neighbor.

The weather was miserable; pouring rain in white sheets and cold enough to fog breath.

Inside my stone hut, it was warm, dry, and cozy.

My sister sat across from me. She'd been engulfed by the massive wool blanket I'd wrapped her in. The mug was nearly too big and heavy for her to lift, so to avoid spilling, she rested it on the table and tilted it to sip. She'd lost all dignity at this point. In fact, she'd lost everything, or so she claimed.

Water dripped from her hair.

"How about you start from the beginning?" I asked, my voice low and rumbling.

Arabella flinched. Her small, soft voice was still hoarse from her trip through the torrential rain to my soggy domicile of exile. Probably the farthest she'd ever traveled, let alone unaccompanied. I was surprised she'd made it here without more mishap than a torn and muddy dress. "Father... is a liar," she said.

I nodded. "Yes. But I'm sure you didn't come here to tell me the obvious."

Arabella flinched again, lowering her head. "I'm sorry."

That was unexpected.

I sipped my tea. I'd learned how to make a few simple brews from the witch of the forest. In exchange, I gave her some of the meat I caught and scared off hunters that got too close to our part of the woods. Her face was hideous, but she was old, and who was I to judge?

Arabella's face twisted. "He promised that if you took the curse for the family that the rest of us would be fine. But Kyle has... He's turned to stone! Mother is sprouting feathers! Father is the only one untouched--but I know he's made a bargain. Everyone else in exchange for his life!"

I leaned my elbow on the table, chin resting in my palm. "Ah... Arabella, I've learned a few things while out here, so let me fill you in."

Her eyes lifted, wide and shining.

"The curse is permanent." I lifted a finger, releasing my mug to do so. "The curse requires consent. If you don't consent, it doesn't work. So Kyle agreed to take it on. Monica--"

"Mother."

"Monica. Agreed to turn into a chicken."

"Harpy."

My lips curved. "Ah--" I barely stopped myself from laughing.

Arabella's jaw clenched. She looked down.

"So unless you agree to take his curse... nothing can be done."

"But Kyle! He's only thirteen!"

"Oh. Wow..." I mused. I hadn't realized it had been that long. "Well, sorry. But it's like sex. Once the deed is done, you can't undo it. He agreed." I briefly wondered if our parents had even told him that he had an older sister. Probably not. Not that it mattered now anyway. Kyle was as good as dead... unless.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Arabella screamed, her voice giving out at the end even though she'd slammed to her feet. It was hardly impressive since jumping out of the chair made her lose eight inches of height.

"Well... The Bog Hag said that curses are a lot like locks, and any lock can be picked. You just have to figure out the locking mechanism."

Arabella's eyes widened. "Like True Love's Kiss?" she asked.

"A fae demented enough to continue making deals with Allen in exchange for his family wouldn't pick something so cute."

"Father," Arabella corrected automatically, then looked down as she carefully climbed back into the chair. "What do you mean continue?"

"Loki, as he likes to be called, told me that I was taking on Allen's debt," I said with a shrug. "This leads me to believe that Allen has asked for more favors, which has incurred more debt."

"That..." her voice faded, expression changing to one of someone putting the pieces together.

"So I'm guessing the family has had quite a bit of fortune lately?" I asked, picking up my mug to finish my tea. I stood, careful not to knock anything with my tail as I went to the stove to refill my mug.

"Please help me..." Arabella asked.

I looked over my shoulder at her. "Why should I? I'm happy here."

"But you're..."

"A monster?" I grinned. "I feel more myself than I ever did in Allen's house. You can't tell me it was easy to get here with your ribs wrapped in steel and legs bound by cloth." I set my mug on the table and leaned over her, a hand on the back of the chair she sat in. "Tell me, Arabella. Were Madam Wretched's dancing lessons fun? Were Mister Wrathful's tutoring sessions enjoyable?"

My sister swallowed. She wanted to correct me on Wreath and Willson's names, but she didn't.

"Did you jump for joy when they assigned a knight to watch you day and night so you couldn't have a moment of silence without his resentful sighs interrupting?"

She flinched, hunching down in the wool blanket. "It wasn't all bad..."

"One thing," I challenged, lifting a claw near her face. "Name one thing."

Arabella opened her mouth, then closed it. She was struggling.

"All the food. All of it looked and smelled so delicious, but you weren't allowed a morsel," I offered.

She grit her teeth.

"The garden you weren't allowed in without a wide hat, parasol, and six men carrying a tent over you at all times."

"Stop..." she begged, hands covering her face.

"The man you were ordered to marry who looks like a slime and mud golem had a child," I finished.

She choked.

I put my hand on her back, gently rubbing. "Go ahead and laugh."

Arabella sobbed, laughing and crying at the same time. I knelt and put my arms around her. She gripped my thick neck, her tiny hands buried in my wild red mane. "You're right!" she admitted, voice muffled by my shoulder. "But how did you know about him?"

"People from town sometimes go to the Bog Hag for help with... problems."

"His personality is even worse than his face!"

"I could tell by the sneer they gave him in the newspaper."

Arabella sat back, wiping her face with her fingers.

I looked up at her with a sigh. "I'm still your sister," I said, resigned. She'd only been four when I was cursed, after all. She had been my little shadow, and... being thirteen at the time, I'd found her to be very annoying. Now, she was sixteen. If I'd looked up the definition of the word Princess, her picture would've been there; blonde, blue-eyed, petite, weak, soft-spoken...

Arabella stared down at me and swallowed as her eyes searched my face. "Please help me... get revenge."

My lips curled, revealing the sharp teeth my curse had blessed me with.

Despite being cursed into a monster and being banished by your royal parents, you were happy with your life. Your home was peaceful. You always had enough to eat. You even had friends despite your appearance, so yeah your life was great. Your non-cursed sibling's life, on the other hand

[camisoledadparis]

STORY: New Year's Eve

A lonely gay man has an unexpected encounter at a holiday party.

_________________________________________________________

The party sort of droned on, an endless repetition of toasts and laughter as all the straight folks congratulated themselves on their primacy. The only other gay guy at the party was married and they weren't interested in opening up their relationship to a third. Maybe I should have looked for another party, but I didn't really care about new year's eve that much, and I figured that at least at the company party I would know everyone. Still, it sucked being the only single gay guy in the room.

I mingled and chatted for a while until it all became just too boring for words and I decided to head out. At the door that led to the lobby of the hotel we were using, I met a man and a woman, clearly a couple, and clearly drunk. “I like your wig,” she said with a slight giggle. His hands were all over her but she didn't seem to notice. “Can I buy it from you? How much?”

I had a reputation at work for loving bright colors and occasionally wore fun wigs to social events just for fun, but this was my favorite, a short, bright orange bob. “That's alright,” I demurred, “it's not for sale.”

She giggled again. “Aw, come on. I'll give you whatever you want.” She nudged her boyfriend, who promptly took out his wallet and began pulling out some cash.

“No, really, I'm not interested in selling it.”

I began to walk past them, but she stopped me. “I'll flash you for it.” Then leaning forward with a smirk, she added, “I'll flash you real good.”

I laughed to myself. If I wasn't sure they were drunk before, I had no doubts now. How else could she think that the sight of her boobs would tempt the man in a woman's wig? “Wrong tree,” I smiled, once again beginning to leave.

“Please!” she begged. “What's it gong to take?”

I stopped The offer was too good, and they were both drunk, so what the hell. I turned, giving her a smirk of my own, and answered, “How about you let me suck this guy off while you watch him cum for me.”

They hadn't expected that, and it took a moment for them to absorb what I was offering.

“I mean, if he really loves you...” Then focusing on him, “What wouldn't you do for her?”

He swallowed hard unsure how to answer, “I...umm...”

He looked at her to get him out of this dilemma, but I had framed it perfectly, and now all I had to do was watch as she did the work for me. “You do love me, don't you?” She whispered, giving him a tender kiss on the lips. “You can think of it as a warm up for what I'll give you later.”

“But if I cum...”

She laid a finger on his lips to silence him. “Then you'll really be cumming for me.” she guided his hand first to one of her barely covered breasts, then down to the hem of her mini skirt, and to the secrets beneath. She sighed as his fingers explored the offered delights, and whispered, “Please,” in her most seductive voice.

It was all too much for him. I watched as the bulge in his tight jeans began to grow. He turned to me lost in anger and lust. “She'll be there, right?” he demanded.

“Of course,” I smiled.

“And I ain't touching nothing, not your face, not your ass, and especially not your dick!”

“Not a thing. Just sit back and enjoy getting sucked off while your girlfriend watches. Then,” I added, “ask yourself, what wouldn't she do for you?”

He liked that thought, and the bulge in his jeans began to throb with anticipation. He turned to her with obvious lust in his eyes. “Anything?”

“Anything you want.” she giggled.

He kissed her hard, grabbing her ass with both hands and grinder her hips against his dick. He pulled back, continuing to grind his hips against hers, then turned to me and said, “Alright, let's get this over with so I can get on to the main event.”

She clapped with delight as he released her.

“Follow me,” I whispered, leading them into the lobby. “I know a place.” I led them up the main stairwell to the second floor. The smaller event rooms were not being used and the restaurant was closed for the evening, so this part of the hotel was pretty much abandoned. There were a number of public rest rooms along a back hallway, a few of which were single use and could be locked. I led them to one of these. “In here.”

They followed me in and I locked the door. “I've never done it in a public bathroom,” he hesitated. What's first?”

“Take your clothes off,” I demanded. Let me see what I'm working with here.”

He looked alarmed. “All of them? You just need access to my dick. I don't want you touching nothing else!”

“Don't worry,” I assured him, “ I won't. But your girlfriend might like to.” I offered her a smirk and she took the hint.

She reached over and slipped a hand under his tight tee shirt, lifting it as she caressed his chest. “You love it when I play with your nipples,” she whispered, tweaking one sharply as she kissed him deeply.

He surrendered himself to her, allowing himself to be stripped slowly and sensuously above the waist, and didn't even seem to notice as I undid his belt and pants and pulled them down to his ankles. His dick strained against the tiny briefs he was wearing, stretching them to their limit.

He let out a low moan as I began to massage it through the flimsy fabric, and she reached down to gauge its size and stiffness. Her gentle touch suddenly got firm, and his eyes flew open in surprise. “I don't think I've ever seen it so big,” she teased. “You like having another man down there, don't you. It makes you feel dominant, powerful.” She licked the side of his face, and whispered, “I think he might like it rough. You ready for me to unleash that monster dick so you can show him who's in charge?”

His breathing quickened as she pulled the front of his briefs down , releasing the beast. I quickly pulled them the rest of the way down to his ankles and immediately buried my face in his crotch. I drank in the intoxicating scent of his musk, licking his balls as she rubbed his cock against the side of my face. She slid her other hand across his chest, torturing his nipples at will.

He continued to moan, lost in the haze of pleasure. Then from the depths he managed to speak, but all he could say was, “Show me your titties.”

She laughed, guiding his hands to her breasts so he could release them from the blouse that almost covered them.

With her hands guiding his, I was now free to give his dick my full attention. I began by licking it, as I had been licking his balls, but I was anxious to taste it, to feel its full throbbing presence in my mouth. As such it didn't take long before I began sucking on the tip, while stroking his long veiny shaft.

Before I could fully engulf him, she pulled him away and pushed him against a wall. Holding him there with one hand, she reached the other out to me. “The wig,” she demanded, “Or no deal.”

As far as I was concerned, I had already received enough compensation for a cheap plastic wig, even if it were my favorite. Without hesitation I fulfilled my part of the bargain, and handed it over. She took a moment and put it on, using the mirror to check that it was on straight. “How do I look?” she asked, catching his eye in the mirror. “Fuckable?”

He didn't say anything, but his dick twitched and a drop of pre-cum began to drip slowly from the tip. She smiled at his reflection and said matter of factly, “Okay, get on with it. We've got a party to crash, and you've got a pussy to fuck.”

She turned to face him and began to pull her skirt up to let him see what he was working for. Pulling the narrow strip of lace that passed for panties aside, she caressed herself, allowing a finger to slip briefly inside. “Show me what you're going to do to this when we get back to my place tonight.”

I had been kneeling beside him as she egged him on. “Damn!” he growled as he grabbed me by the hair and forced my face into his crotch. “Open up, boy, I'm going in.” With no more warning than that he forced his monster dick down my throat and began fucking my face with a vehemence I had rarely experienced.

~~

~~

I did my best to go with it, but it had to be one of the biggest dicks I had ever seen. Needless to say I soon was gagging and had tears streaming down my face as I struggled to cope with the violence of his lust. I was only vaguely aware of just how verbal he was as he constantly commented on her “Titties” and demanded ever more explicit views of her pussy.

Soon I realized that she has stepped across the room and was standing beside us he had been holding my head firmly in both hands as he forced himself in, but now he released one hand, giving me just a second to come up for air. I caught a brief glimpse of the fingers of that hand slipping deep inside her, while I heard her gasp in pleasure. I heard him growl, “That pussy's mine tonight. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk in the morning.”

At this point she seemed unable to speak, so lost was she in the moment. He continued to list all the places and ways he was going to fuck her, and to brag about how rough he was going to be. I was also getting caught up in the domination fantasy he was creating, and began imagining him fucking me over and over again all night. Stealthily I undid my own pants and freed my dick, which was so hard by now that it was painful. He didn't notice, but she was looking down, watching his dick force its way in and out of my mouth, and noticed.

“Enough,” she panted, pulling his fingers out of her pussy and pushing me off his dick. “You're about to make me cum and that poor boy can hardly breathe. Give him a break.”

“I'm okay,” I protested

But before she could respond, he grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall, pressing his naked body against hers. “I couldn't care less about him, but I'm going to finish you off right. The way it's supposed to be, with my dick exploding as far inside you as I can get.” He didn't wait for permission, but forced himself in with one swift thrust.

She gasped in surprise and pushed him away. “Later,” she interjected. “For now you have an obligation to fulfill.” She looked at me and asked, “Isn't that right?”

I nodded. “I get to suck you till you cum. That's the deal.”

“Yeah, well, that ain't gonna happen,” he challenged. “I don't ever cum unless I'm in a pussy.”

“Don't lie,” she chided, “You've cum in my mouth plenty of times.”

“Sure, by my face has always been buried in your pussy when I did.”

“What's the problem?” I asked. “I don't care if you're eating her out as long as you're filling me with you cum.”

“Do you care where his cum goes as long as it's inside you?” she asked.

“Not especially, but he isn't comfortable...”

“He doesn't like to admit it, but he loves fucking my ass almost as much as my pussy.”

He looked at her in utter amazement. “I can't believe you just...”

“Oh calm down,” she chuckled. Then whispering to him in a conspiratorial kind of way, “Haven't you always wanted to fuck my ass while eating my pussy? Now's your chance. I mean, one ass is much like another, and I bet he won't mind.”

When they both turned to look at me I was already on my hands and knees with my bare ass pointed in their direction. “Not at all.”

He seemed a bit hesitant, but she quickly stepped over me, and positioned herself in a stance just above my shoulders. “I'm waiting,” she pouted, stroking herself for his enjoyment.

I felt him press himself against my ass and back as he began licking his favorite treat. His excitement had diminished somewhat during the exchange, but once his face was buried in her crotch, he began to rally. As his dick got harder it proceeded to rise between my legs until it was rubbing against my own modest member. He suddenly pulled away from her and growled, “ I said I wasn't touching his dick!”

“Then put it inside,” she reasoned. Then leaning forward to kiss him she whispered, “I love it when you force yourself up my ass, fuck me now, fuck me hard.”

Again I heard his breathing quicken and felt him lubing up my hole with his spit. “You really want it?” he asked in breathless tones,

“Do it now.” she encouraged. “Make me a happy woman.”

I once again felt him pressing against me, but this time there was a solid presence, insistent. And before I was really ready he was in. Just the tip at first, but it was going to take some time to get used to being stretched out so far.

I could hear him moaning in pleasure as he resumed his ministrations on her pussy. I could also hear her encouraging him. “Slowly...that's it...a little bit more...that's enough, back out a little...” And so she continued, watching my body for the tell tale spasms that betrayed when I had reached my limit, at least for the moment.

Eventually he was all the way in and pounding almost as furiously as he had been fucking my face. By now she was lost in her own pleasure and I think he had forgotten who he was actually fucking. I have no idea how long it lasted, but the memory is timeless. They both came together. She started first, but this immediately triggered the torrent of his hot cum that filled me up to overflowing.

She was disappointed that I hadn't cum, and when she offered to get her boyfriend to finish me off I declined. “You kept your part of the bargain and I'll keep mine. I won't ask him to touch my dick. Although,” I added with a smirk, “Your didn't seem to mind touching my ass.”

“That wasn't your ass,” he chuckled, “It was hers,” He reached around and grabbed her ass while kissing her deeply.

“Fine with me,” I said, “As long as I get to keep the cum.”

“All yours,” she replied with a chuckle, “And the wig's all mine?”

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “And it looks much better on you than me.

As her boyfriend unlocked the door and walked out, she leaned forward and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek.

“A good ending to the year,” I offered as I headed toward the door.

“Or a good beginning.” She handed me her card with a wink and whispered, “Text me tomorrow.”

I wasn't sure what to think. After all, I wasn't bi, but that guy had a fabulous dick, and I hadn't been fucked that thoroughly in a very long time. I followed them to the exit to say goodnight, and after he held the door for her, he turned to me to shake my hand.

“Thanks for the party, my friend. To be honest, I know she doesn't like it when I fuck her in the ass, She just pretends to make me happy. So I wouldn't be surprised if she invites you over to do this again. Just don't listen when I protest. I like her to think it's all about her. But that ass of yours was...Let's just say I've got plenty to think about while I'm fucking her tonight.”

Before he turned to leave, he handed me a slip of paper with an e-mail address on it. “A private account she knows nothing about. Hit me up and we can get together again sometime, just the two of us. And this time I'll finish you off as many times as you want.

With that he turned and rejoined his girlfriend who was still trying to find a taxi. As I watched them drive away I wondered what the new year would bring. I looked at my watch to find that midnight had come and gone. The new year had begun while we were locked up in that bathroom, and we hadn't even noticed. Or had we? Perhaps they both had, at least on some level, and now it was my turn to embrace something new.

~~

~~

~~

[velvetvexations]

I really like the term “advantages” vs “privilege” when talking about more nuanced stuff.

I’m bi, and was in an m/f relationship when the term “straight passing privilege” was a big thing. And like… I really don’t see how it’s a privilege to have had the people in my life be brazenly homophobic in front of me until one of them figured out that I was also one of the queers, and then get split into 1 of 2 reactions:

Selective memory where they went back to talking shit and pretended I was a straight girl

Getting called a dyke and bombarded with biphobia

But, I can also see how looking like a straight couple sometimes gave us an advantage.

I’m in a t4t relationship now where my partner and I are usually perceived as both being women. (I say “women” and not “lesbians” because it’s about 50/50 whether we’re “lesbians” or “friends” with the occasional dash of “sisters”)

I never had to reassert that “yes, my boyfriend and I are dating, not siblings, we are literally holding hands right now, you saw us kiss 5 seconds ago.” I never had anyone be queerphobic to us as a couple, only to me as an individual if I outed myself or got a little too dykey without him around and a homophobic stranger clocked me.

Past me had an advantage over current me, but I still wouldn’t call it a privilege. So yeah, I really like that term! :D

Bisexual who likes the term “advantage” over “privilege” again: I just thought of another one! My partner is on his way to being able to be read as male. Sometimes, if I throw a he/him out there casually, cis people who were using she/her will switch without questioning. They never do that for me, because I’m a nonbinary they/them user who has way too many “female” traits to even confuse people into maybe thinking they might’ve guessed wrong with she/her. But on the other hand, I can pretty easily fade back into the closet in a way he can’t. When he gets read as male, he gets read as a feminine man, and put in the “doing manhood wrong” box. When he gets read as female, he gets read as a masculine woman, and gets put in the “doing womanhood wrong box.” So, he gets an advantage in having a better chance at getting gendered correctly; I have an advantage at being able to go under the radar easier. I wouldn’t consider either a privilege, because getting misgendered sucks and he’s still at a big risk for queerphobia when gendered correctly, but both provide advantages in their own right. Side note: I’ve realized that (depending on how well he eventually passes) this may eventually lead to us being perceived as a straight couple, which means back to the “straight passing privilege” bullshit for me. Yippee!

I also like that term! You've thought this out very well.

[starz4ieee]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

includes: smut, sexual game play, getting caught

the house is dark, fear and adrenaline rush through me as i wander through the darkness.

my breath hitches as the wind from the open window makes a whistling sounds, i almost give in to my boyfriend’s sick games, but i don’t, i keep searching.

this was one of his favourite games, i had 30 minutes to find him in the darkness, if i do he does whatever i want, but if i dont, well i think we all know.

i take deep breaths, frustrated and angry ‘i feel like i’ve searched the whole house, where is he’ i think to myself-another rule is no taking, the house must be quiet.

chris and nick were out at dinner with nathan and maddison, giving me and matt hours to play our games.

i act like i don’t enjoy them, but when i win i feel like im on top of the world, being in control of my possessive boyfriend is a feeling that is unmatched.

him usually stuck up and tough guy persona crumbling as he begs and whines under me, for only myself to see, that’s what makes the game worth it.

i check my phone, it reads ‘10 minutes remaining’ i rack my brain for ideas of where he could be and only one comes to my attention, i slowly make my way downstairs and into the garage, stumbling around before i make it in, my hands search around guiding by the walls,

the final seconds click and my alarm goes off “FUCK” i yell out, suddenly the lights flicker on and i look towards the other side of the garage “your getting better love” he walked over to me and held my face in his hand “oh don’t pout, you won last time, its only fair if i take over this time”

he pulls out his phone and switches the lights on and he takes my hand and leads us upstairs, “go to my room i’ll be there soon” he smirks at me and i roll my eyes walking down the hall and he slaps my ass as i walk away causing a small laugh from me.

i open his door to his room and i strip down into my underwear and bra and i lay down on his bed, my legs pressing together in anticipation.

suddenly the door opens and matt turns off the lights in his room, that same adrenaline rushing through me again.

“i wanna see you” i whisper “don’t forget who won tonight baby” he chuckles darkly “you’ll see me, feel me and taste me in no time” i feel his hands on my ankles, his large cold hands rubbing up my legs and on my thighs.

my eyes start to adjust to the dark and i see him and watch him and he massages my things, he kisses me through my underwear and a whine gets caught in my throat.

his tongue licks up to my stomach and once he reaches my belly button he lifts off me and pulls off my underwear, he kisses my stomach and presses his hard on against my newly exposed pussy, i whine at the friction and i subconsciously grind lightly on him and his hands hold down my hips

“don’t be greedy” he says looking at me in the eyes, i try to listen to him, letting him enjoy his time being a winner, but deep down i wanna fuck that attitude right out of him.

i listen to his words and his lips continue to kiss my body, his hands swing around me to unclip my bra and his head is in my neck as he sucks and nips at it

i moan softly and my eyes squeeze shut, he tosses my bra across the floor and leaves me bare while he’s still dressed in his black shirt and red and black pj pants that have a very noticeable bulge poking through them.

for the first time he kissed my lips, in a way to comfort me and ease the anxiety that i have without using words.

his legs rest on each side of my hips as he pulls off his shirt and he flips us over so that i’m on top of him

he reaches down to take off his pants, i take the opportunity and my hands caresses over his boxers making him grunt, i shimmy down until im at face level with his underwear, i slide them off and his cock spurts up, my hand grips the base of it and i stroke slowly

my tongue extends out to lick his tip in short kitten licks and he looks down at me with dark eyes “don’t tease me baby” he moans, trying his best to hide his whines, my mouth takes most of him and i bob my head, swirling my tounge around in the process, his hips jut forward and his teeth bite his lip as his head tilts back, he rests on his elbows, holding himself up for a better angle, i feel his cock harden more and his breathing stuttering “ffuckk” he moans has he releases in my mouth.

he sits back up and looks at me, i give him the most innocent face and his hand reaches down and wipes the cum with his thumb off the side of my lip, he proceeds to push his finger into my mouth “suck” he tells me, my eyes stay on his as i suck his finger, after a moment he takes it out of my mouth.

he moves to the end of the bed, his head up against the head board and he pats his lap i sit down and the tip of his cock slides between my folds, his hands grab at my hips and motions me back and forth, sliding on him.

my head tilts up and i moan out when i feel the veiny base of his dick glide over my clit over and over again “shit” i cuss and he chuckles at my whines “such a good girl, grinding on me like this, fuck i could watch you all day” his words hypnotize me, making me feel like i belong to him and his words keep me safe, i stop for a moment and i slip the head of his cock into me and i sink down onto him

“fuck baby” his nails dig into my hips “i didn’t tell you you could do that did i?” he groans “are you telling me to stop” i ask as i start bouncing on him, a string and curses leaves his mouth

his whines turn pathetic and for a moment he becomes the loser of our game, but he doesn’t last a second more

he presses me down so im stomach to stomach with him, his hands grip my ass and he starts thrusting up into me, a scream erupts out of me and i’m a moaning mess as he pounds into me until i start seeing stars, i bury my head in his neck as muffled cries are heard in his ear

he hits a spot in me that i didn’t even knew existed and my teeth bite down on his shoulder and my eyes roll back “ngh” escapes from the back of my throat and i let go of his shoulder “right there, f-uck” i moan loudly, his grasp on my ass losens and his hips start stuttering, groans leave his lips

“fuck i’m gonna cum baby” he tells me and i nod my head, my face on his shoulder, my body weak from the pleasure it’s receiving “me too, fuck keep going” after a few more thrusts i cry out matt’s name as i finish on his dick, him releasing in me shortly after.

“holy fuck” i say, rolling over next to him as im panting and trying to catch my breath, he looks over to me, his chest going up and down, but that mischievous look hasn’t left “matt..” i say to him

“get on your hands and knees baby, this night isn’t over yet” i sit up and follow his instructions, im placed in the middle of the bed, on my hands and knees for matt as he’s behind me, i look forward, not being able to see him makes me anxious on what he’s gonna do and when.

my breath hitches when i feel his dick between my folds again, my head tilts down “talk to me baby” he says to me “shut up” i say to him “shut up? don’t tell me to do something that you can’t” he laughs and i roll my eyes, struggling not to let out another insult

“i can feel your eyes from here” he tells me, i hate how easily he can read me sometimes “are you gonna stand there and talk or are you gonna fuck me?” i ask looking back at him he tilts his head to the side at the sass in my voice “oh you wanna get fucked?”

he asked, taunting me as he slammed his cock into my dripping core, i let out a scream and my back arches, my head against the bed, he slams into me, thrust by thrust

“you wanna talk like a whore?” another thrust “you get fucked like one” he pounds into me and i moan out loud, he hits a spot inside me and my throat is dry from screaming, my mouth is wide open against the sheets and only small whimpers can escape my mouth,

tears fill my eyes as my pussy is being pounded into, the pleasure is so much greater than i’ve ever experienced and i think i might die right here

“matt, fuck” i say in a pleading voice “what, want me to stop?” he’s just trying to get a rise out of me but i feel so weak that it’s working “no” i say softly “what’s that baby?” my words are caught in my throat as his cock continues to push deep inside of me “don’t stop” i say in a pleading voice “don’t stop? whatever you say princess”

one of his hands rests on my hip, the other rubs my ass cheek before giving it a smack, a loud gasp leaves my mouth and i groan at the feeling “you like that don’t you? hmm baby?” i nod my head “tell me how much you love it” he slaps my ass again “fuck-i love it so much!” i scream cry into the bed

“fuck i’m close, harder” tears coat my eyes as i feel a knot in my stomach “yes baby, fuck” my walls squeeze around him and i feel myself building up “you should see the way your squeezing on me right now, your so fucking hot” the headboard is slamming against the wall and i’m thanking god that no one is home

i feel myself come undone and i yell out and matt rides out his orgasm with me, he collapses on me and breaths out heavily

, his hands wrap around my waist and he lays us down, he spoons me for a few minutes and my eyes flutter open and closed at the exhaustion and comfort from matt’s arms

“let me get you some water and a towel to clean you up my love” i nod and he stands up, a cold feeling against my back, i wrap my naked body tight in his sheets and i fight off sleep while i wait for matt.

matt walks out of the room after putting on his pj pants and grabs his phone scrolling through his missed notifications while he walks to the kitchen he hears a cough and his eyes widen and he looks up

“hey guys..” matt looks at his two brothers and two of there close friends “i thought you were getting home at 11” he says “we did, its 11:15�� nick says matt nods his head “cool cool i’m just gonna” he points to the cuboard and grabs two water bottles “just keep it quiet for the rest of the night?” chris asks and matt chuckles “don’t worry i’m pretty sure she’s passed out” chris and nick groan and matt laughs as he walks back to his room.

i hear as the door opens and i groan against the pillow, it seems like a cloud right now “i got you water love” he says to me and i look over at him and groan again

“sit up for a minute baby” i sigh and do what he asks, he pulls the sheets from off my body and hands me the water bottle, i take a small sip and matt grabs a lightly damp towel and holds one of my legs over his shoulders as he cleans up our mess.

he gets back in bed with me and i take a few more sips of my water and he does the same with his and we put them beside the bed, he spoons me again and kisses my temple “goodnight love” he whispers “goodnight” i mumble.

[stunted-boars]

Tumblr deletes content under a cut when someone deletes, shoutout to the wayback machine! Doing this on my phone this time, as per usual if i-am-the-altman is out there somewhere and wants this taken down my inbox is open!

Edit: ok so on my end this post is completely out of order, I tried editing the post to no avail. Will take another look at this in the morning/on my PC-_-

ThAshe Fluff that took way longer to write then I thought it would

Transcription under the cut! Lmk if anyone catches any mistakes, it is not easy doing this on a phone

Some SFW ThAshe fluff that @wolfcat-hybrid kind of requested. I hope it was worth the wait! It probably isn’t

Spoilers for like every arc of TI. 

Ashe was exhausted. There was no other way to put it. The ache of bone deep weariness had become all too familiar during her time in the Ban village… From learning the language with Iggy, to the occasional sparing session with Horaven (and sometimes the Bat-masked Ban), her personal time had been severely neglected.

It didn’t help that the only bar in town was somehow staffed by Old Inny. She had little inclination to put up with Old Inny’s senility for alcohol.

With the sun beginning to kiss the horizon, Ashe let out a sigh. Where am I going to get a drink in this place?

As if to answer her question, a commotion outside of a house caught her attention. I wonder what’s going on…

As Ashe drew closer to a crowd of Ban that was growing by the second, the indistinct noise grew clearer, and she recognised Thog’s raised voice. Gods know, I’ve heard it often enough.

“I can’t deal with you when you’re like this!” A pause, and then, “Oh yeah, real mature.” Again, silence. “You know what, fuck you too!” Parting aside the crowd, Thog stalked forward, and Ashe caught a flash of pure Menace. I guess that solves the question of who he was arguing with. She stepped forward, and raised a hand, “Hey, Thog. Rough day?”

“Ashe, you don’t know the half of it. That bat-masked jerk has been pissed at me about something all day, and won’t tell me what the fuck I did…” His shoulders slumped as he fell into step beside Ashe.

“Sounds like you need a drink.” Ashe said, gently elbowing him in the side.

“I need several…” They lapsed into a companionable silence that suited the quiet village and their footsteps lead them Thog’s door. “Speaking of drinks, Ashe, I… uh, liberated a nice vintage from Old Inny and I was wondering if you’d like to… share it with me…” Thog looked at the ground and fidgeted nervously.

“That’s really nice of you, Thog, but you’d just be wasting your ‘vintage’… I can’t get drunk, remember?”

“Ashe, there’s more to drinking than just ‘getting drunk’. Sometimes, it’s about sharing a moment with friends, or remembering those we’ve lost.”

“OK, Thog, but I’m warning you, if you do anything embarrassing, I will remember.”

Entering Thog’s temporary dwelling, Ashe was struck by a bolt of nostalgia. “Hey, Thog, do you remember the last time we got drinks together? Back at Meadshire?”

“Ashe, that period of my life was a constant haze of regret and booze. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Getting comfortable on the low sofa (It was nice, and fit the room very well. Whichever Ban Thog had kicked out of here clearly had good taste) Ashe spoke again, “Well, it was shortly after the disappearances started, but before things got too bad. The tavern had closed up early, and we scrounged up a barrel that wasn’t all paint thinner. It actually looked like ale. Or at least, the idea of ale.”

“Oh, fuck, I completely forgot about that!” Thog stopped rummaging through a drawer, and turned around, a bottle in his hand, “We were shit-talking everything in Meadshire!”

“Haha, yeah!” Ashe’s face brightened at the memory. It was one of her only non-depressing ones from her time there.

“Huh. Interesting…” Thog was peering quizzically at Ashe, one eye brow raised slightly.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Frantically scrubbing at her cheeks, Ashe could feel herself beginning to blush. It’s not my fault Xin is always in the hot springs!

“What? Nah, it’s just… That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in a while. Not to mention how long it’s been since you’ve laughed like that.”

Thinking about it, Ashe realised she had been pretty serious lately. I guess I’ve been so busy trying to figure out what I am, I forgot to be myself… “Well, thanks for pointing that one out Thog. I’ll keep that in mind…”

“It wasn’t a rebuke, Ashe. Unlike some of our friends-” With a cough that sounded suspiciously the name “Inien”, Thog set the bottle and two small glasses on the table “-I can observe without criticising. Besides, you aren’t someone who needs to smile to…” Thog’s voice abruptly cut off.

“Needs to smile to what, Thog?” Ashe crossed her arms, her brow creasing.

“Ugh, I’ll tell you later, can we just start drinking already?” Thog said, as he poured two glasses. Picking them up, he offered one to Ashe.

“Fine, but I consider that a promise. I expect an explanation.”

“And you’ll get one. Don’t sweat it.” Raising his glass, he proclaimed “To absent friends, I guess.” The alcohol swiftly disappeared down his throat.

“To absent friends.” Ashe echoed, following suit.  “Woah, that’s some strong stuff! I think I almost felt something.”

4 drinks…

“Well, I don’t know how Markus keeps his hair so shiny.” Ashe accompanied her statement with a burst of laughter. “I’ve asked, but he just throws a hand-full of glitter into the air and walks away.”

“Is that so… No wonder the bar floor’s always covered with the stuff. I’ll have to have a talk with him sometime…” Thog frowned slightly, “But that’s a worry for later. Pour me another drink, would you?”

7 drinks…

“… and that, Asheling, is why cutlery is so important in Alarani culture.” Thog was not inebriated enough to start slurring his words, but it was a close thing. His shoulders had begun to slump, and his hand shook slightly as he refilled their glasses.

“Interesting. Is that why the bar doesn’t have any?”

“Shut up and drink.”

11 drinks…

“So there I was, elbow deep in a vat of magic potion, Gregor bleeding out on a table-’ Ashe gestured wildly as she recounted the tale of their time under contract in Altreia “-and for all I knew, Markus was being torn to shreds by rabid golems outside.”

“Well, I’m… sorry you had to go through that…” The drinks were clearly catching up to Thog, as he chose his words extremely carefully. “I wish I had done more…”

“Thog, you were responsible for securing us our freedom. You’ve more than made up for it.”

“I guess, but I still feel bad…”

“Would another drink help?”

16 drinks…

The bottle fell to the table, empty. Thog was really out of it, reclining on the couch right next to Ashe. She knew she wasn’t drunk, but Thog’s exhaustion was contagious… I don’t even want to get up. Though she had to admit, there was something comforting about his firmiliar presence beside her. Leaning her head onto his shoulder, she felt herself beginning to drift off to sleep. Right before she slipped away completely, Ashe heard a voice, quiet and far away.

“You aren’t someone who needs to smile to be beautiful, Asheling.” She felt an arm wrap around her shoulder and pull her close. “I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, Thog. For everything.” Ashe mumbled, returning his hug, as she felt her consciousness slip away.

Originally posted August 6th 2016 #Thrilling Intent #I wrote a thing #ThAshe #Alcohol use #Sorry it took so long!

ThAshe Fluff that took way longer to write then I thought it would

Some SFW ThAshe fluff that @wolfcat-hybrid kind of requested. I hope it was worth the wait! It probably isn’t

Spoilers for like every arc of TI. 

Keep reading

[purplepixel]

So.

I read issue 44 of idw.

[blindedguilt]

//Was thinking about posting this on my alt, but since I figure I've spoken about this frequently enough on this blog and it's THE dedicated Leonard Space™️... //I'm throwing up and crying thinking about how leonard had never gotten to experience romantic or sexual attraction (or will ever GET to experience those things, unrequited or not) without complete dread and self-blame and guilt and how that must have been growing up with the hope and expectations of "Being in love must be so nice, I hope I'll be able feel that one day" and not ONLY having that hope gradually dwindle as he grew into the "expected marriageable age" watching those around him go on with their lives and attain those things in a way that seems so natural but is so foreign to him and the absolute sadness of the point the notion of "attraction" and "falling in love" turned to complete and abject horror and disgust when he realises that this is what his mind has decided is "Normal" for him, and all possibilities and aspirations he may have had of a child, teen, young adult, etc. up to that point of even the bare minimum is now a complete impossibility. //how it fully sets in he'll never experience love. never find his own family or someone to be interested in and care about in such a way or even feel attraction without that weight attached.... like idc, actual relationships are one thing but if ANYTHING you should at least be able to know the joy of falling in love if even for a SECOND without any strings (Disgust, guilt, self-hate, etc.) attached!!!! guys!!!!!!! //HE'S WAY TOO KIND AND GENTLE AND HANDSOME AND CARING AND HUMBLE AND A GENTLEMAN AND HANDSOME AND HIS VOICE IS WAY TOO SEXY FOR THIS SHIT, HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS!!!!! LET HIM LOVE!!!!!!! HE'S SHOWN TO HAVE SO MUCH TO GIVE IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS (Parental, familial, just being an empathetic person towards his "enemies" in general) AND YET HE DIES HAVING NEVER KNOWN IT...... WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HIM........... ouuugughhh.........

[grimandghoulish]

.

[swearimnevergivingup]

so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.

he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.

and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.

the world blurs around you.

all you can think about is this very moment.

the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again. 

breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.

his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.

“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”

you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.

“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.

“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”

you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”

“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”

oh.

your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”

for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.

but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry. 

“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”

your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice. 

“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”

“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”

one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.

the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt. 

nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.

i love you.

i still love you, after all this time.

he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time. 

but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too. 

a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)

there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.

comment if you would like to be tagged! <3

edit: some snippets here!

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Y'know, there's this gripe I've had for years that really frustrates me, and it has to do with Love, Simon and people joking about it and calling it too-pg and designed-for-straight-people and all the like. (A similar thing has happened to Heartstopper, but that's another conversation.)

I saw Love, Simon in theaters when it came out my senior year in high school. I saw it three times, once with my friends/parents on opening night, once with my brother over spring break, and once with my grandparents.

On opening night, the air in the room was electric. It was palpable. Half the heads in there were dyed various colors. Queer kids were holding hands. We were all crying and laughing and cheering as a group. My friends grabbed my hands at the part where Simon was outed and didn't let go until his parents were saying that they accepted him. My friend came out to me as non-binary. Another person in our group admitted that she had feelings for girls. It was incredible. I left shaking. This was the first mainstream queer romance movie that had ever been produced by one of the main five studios, and I know that sounds like another "first queer character from Disney" bit but you have to understand that even in 2018 this was groundbreaking. Getting to have a sweet queer rom-com where the main character was told that he got "to breathe now" after coming out meant so much to me and my friends.

But also, from a designed-for-straight-people POV (which, to be frank, it was written by a bisexual author and directed by a gay man, this was not designed for straight audiences), why is it a bad thing that it appealed to the widest possible audience? That it could make my parents and grandparents see things in a new light? My stepdad wasn't at all interested in rom-coms but he saw it with me because it was something I cared about and he hugged me when we came out of the theater. My very Catholic grandparents watched it with me and though my grandpa said he still didn't quite understand the whole 'gay thing,' all he wanted was for me to be happy and to have a happy ending like Simon did. My Nana actually cried when Simon came out and squeeze my hand when his mother told him he could breathe.

And when Martin blackmailed Simon, my mom, badass ally that she is, literally hissed "Dropkick him. Dropkick him in the balls" leading to multiple queer kids in the audience to laugh or smile. Having my parents there- the only parents, by the way, out of my group of queer and questioning friends- made multiple people realize that supportive adults were out there. That parents like those in Love, Simon do exist in real life.

When people complain about Heartstopper not being realistic or Love, Simon being too cutesy, I remember seeing Love, Simon on opening night. I remember my friend coming out and my stepdad hugging me and my mom defending us through this character. I remember the cheers that went through the audience when Bram and Simon kissed and the chatter in the foyer after the movie was over and the way that this movie made me understand that happy endings do exist.

Queer kids need happy endings. Straight people need entry points to becoming allies. Both of these things can come together in beautiful ways. They can find out about more queer culture later, but for now, let them have this. Let them all have a glimpse at a better, happier world. Let them have queer joy.

[cherienymphe]

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, mentions of prostitution, mentions of infidelity

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

summary: turning your life around is easier said than done when you tempt the very man meant to lead you to salvation.

♱

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned…”

The familiar words tumbled from your lips, and your gaze remained on your lap, eyes following your finger as you traced patterns into the solid black skirt on your frame. It kissed your ankle as you shifted your feet, and the reminder of the long fabric had you swallowing down less than gentle thoughts. You slowly reached up to touch the collar of your shirt, eyes briefly falling closed as you cleared your throat.

You’d spent hours agonizing over how you’d leave the house…

“It has been seven days since my last confession. These are my sins.”

Like clockwork, you listed the time you cursed for some accident or another and the time you took the Lord’s name in vain and the brief impure thought about that attractive man you’d seen in the grocery store. Every week, it was the same. Sins that you yourself would never have considered as such months ago that you were now hyper aware of. They climbed out of your throat seamlessly, remembering every single one until only one was left.

The silence between you and the man just on the other side of that wall stretched—a familiar occurrence—and you took your lip between your teeth. You could taste blood as you worried it, swallowing it down before clearing your throat again. You smoothed your hand over your skirt, and you furiously blinked, struggling to blink away the tears that had started to collect. As you sat in silence, you wondered why you were trying so hard to impress people that had already written you off?

“I’ve had…some hateful thoughts as well.”

You struggled to get the words out, always struck by just how emotional this made you. You looked up towards the ceiling, eyes roaming, and you hadn’t even realized that your breathing had started to pick up until he spoke.

Father Mayhew.

“Take your time,” he gently encouraged. “Speak when you are ready.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words, recalling your first ever confessional and how you’d cried. It was as embarrassing now as it was then, but it was necessary. You were determined to live differently now—to be different, now.

��Although I have abandoned my former life and…occupation…” you thought you heard him shift. “...I feel as if I will never truly be forgiven for it.”

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“...will never be accepted.”

You recalled the eyes that often found their way to you during mass—the judgment, the disdain, the way in which some stared at you as if they didn’t know how to place you. 

Every sunday it was the same. You’d wake up and agonize over how to present yourself in a place as holy as this. You’d fret that this skirt was too short and that dress was too tight. You’d fiddle with your hair for far too long and every lipstick you wiped off would stain your lips a little more than the last. You were constantly at a crossroad, torn between wanting to look nice for church and concerned about looking like…well…a whore.

You struggled to swallow.

“I see the way they look at me,” you eventually whispered, staring at nothing. “I can’t hear what they whisper, but I know it’s about me.”

You touched your throat, hating how tight it felt.

“It’s…discouraging.”

You didn’t want to use that word, but it was the only word that was appropriate. It made you sad, and you often wondered why you kept returning to a place that made you sad. Surely a church wasn’t necessary to ‘find God’...right? You didn’t think so, but you had wanted to start somewhere, and considering that none of your friends even owned a bible, they had been of no help. Stepping foot into a place that had only ever served to be ominous and oppressive in your eyes was the most terrifying thing you’d ever done.

…but then you had laid eyes on Father Mayhew.

He’d been the only one in the church at the time, and you would never forget the curious glint in his dark gaze. You’d had no doubt that he could see you were scared and unsure and in an environment you were wholly unused to. You’d appreciated the gentle way in which he talked to you, guiding you towards a pew in the front as you asked him questions that some people had answers to their entire lives. He hadn’t treated you like you were stupid, but more importantly, he hadn’t treated you like you didn’t belong.

You were willing to bet that he hadn’t even known about you then.

Although, months later, you were willing to bet that he did now…even though you’d never told him.

“Humans are flawed,” his smooth voice reached your ears through the wall. “We all fall short—even the most devout of us—and we find ourselves falling prey to the temptation of judgment…pride…lust…”

You intently listened. After all, he’d never said these words to you before, always giving you some speech about God’s love trumping all.

“I have no doubt that it is trying, but I am sure you will come to give them grace for their sins just as they will give you grace for yours. We are all God’s children striving to lead a life in his image…”

His voice lowered at that, and you frowned slightly, looking towards the wall and thinking to yourself that he almost seemed to be talking to himself now.

“He wants his children to love one another, a feat that is not without difficulty I’m sure you know…” that actually made you hold back a chuckle. “...but God’s love is powerful and he always grants forgiveness to those who genuinely yearn and ask for it.”

At that, you did smile.

You told him that you were truly sorry for your sins, and he told you to say ten Hail Mary’s, and you stepped out of the confessional feeling better than you did thirty minutes ago. You didn’t know how long the feeling would last though, and so you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could, but you knew from experience that was easier said than done.

You touched the crucifix around your neck as you stepped out of your building.

It had once belonged to your mother, and despite how long she’d been gone and how down on your luck you’d been ever since, you could never quite find it in you to pawn it. It was real gold—probably the only real piece of jewelry you ever owned—but you just couldn’t do it, and you supposed that you were never meant to. Despite the many years you’d lived life as the complete opposite of a God fearing woman…it felt right sitting just below your collarbone.

Even if many would not agree.

You were no stranger to several men in this town—and the ones who often passed through on their truck routes—but that had not stopped you from seeking solace and guidance from a place you’d never stepped foot into in your life. You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel…strange to be in the same building as some of the men you’d serviced before, their wives and children at their side as they furiously avoided making eye contact with you. It felt even worse to watch the way the women would congregate together after church, excluding you all the while talking about you.

It felt somewhat pathetic for your only ally in the place to be the priest.

Although you sometimes wondered how true that was these days. You’d never once confessed that you used to be a prostitute—although the kids called it sex work these days—but you weren’t stupid. As godly and devout as they claimed to be, you knew that the church was filled with gossip and there was no telling who’d let it slip to the dark haired man. You knew when he knew though…

…because he looked at you different.

It wasn’t a bad different—thank God for that—but just…different, and while it wasn’t necessarily bad, you still didn’t think you liked it. Confession—being anonymous—never allowed for you to tell him your name, and considering you’d only ever spoken to him once outside of confession months ago, you didn’t know if he ever knew it was you he was talking to. You didn’t know if he knew that the woman he spoke so gently with each week and listened to cry on the other side of some window was the same woman who often shrunk under his heavy gaze as he looked down on his congregation.

You never felt like he was judging you, no, but you also never felt like he was looking at you as he did that first day, a gentle curiosity in his eyes. He wasn’t your friend—far from it in fact—but he felt like the closest thing you had to one in this church, and so you often forced yourself to find excuses for it. He watches you because he wants to make sure you’re settling in okay. He watches you to observe how other members of the church are treating you. He watches you because he’s wondering if you’ll ever come to confession, convincing yourself that he’s never recognized your voice all this time.

That is why he watches you, you told yourself.

No other reason. 

“You always come to pray at least three times a week…”

The familiar voice startled you as you stood, hand lowering as you’d just finished signing the cross. Your hand was still on your chest as you turned to face him, a small smile on your lips as he stood directly in the center of the aisle. You hadn’t even heard him make a single sound, and you wondered how long he’d been standing there.

He slowly returned your smile with one of his own, although it was smaller, and the silent way in which he stared at you reminded you that he’d said something to you. 

“Yes,” you finally said, moving away from the altar. “It helps with…um…really everything.”

He blinked at you, and you noticed that a strand of his hair was threatening to go rogue. He always looked so neat and perfect that it was hard to miss. Father Mayhew was handsome—if anyone had seen enough men to know it was you—but he was handsome in a way that you would categorize as flawless. Divine even. In a way that was untouchable and only meant to be admired in the most innocent of appreciation. 

He slowly nodded at your response, and you didn’t miss the way he studied you—dark eyes drinking you in and taking note of every stylistic choice you’d made today.

“You know, I think I might see your face far more than those who have been coming here for years,” he lightly told you, a slight laugh on his lips.

You laughed with him, only offering him a shrug.

“I’m still new. I’m sure it just seems that way because you aren’t used to seeing me.”

He started to shake his head before you could even finish talking, and you watched him move closer.

“No,” he murmured—so low you almost didn't hear him. “I think you are perhaps my most…devout congregant.”

He touched your crucifix as he said this, dark eyes tracing the shape of it, and he was so close that you could smell his cologne. You blinked at the scent, finding it strange to know that he wore cologne. It shouldn’t be strange, you supposed, but you realized then that you didn’t quite view priests—view him—as human. As normal…

His eyes lifted then to finally connect with yours, and a crooked smile danced along his pink lips.

“It’s admirable,” he whispered. “More of my congregation could stand to follow your lead.”

You couldn’t ignore the way your chest bloomed at those words, almost hating how much validation you wanted from this place. Validation that you were a good person…you weren’t who you used to be…that you were worthy of something more, you didn’t know. It just felt relieving to hear such a compliment from Father Mayhew when no one else in the church would even give you a chance.

“Thank you, Father,” you quietly replied to him. “That means a lot to me.”

You watched him slowly inhale as he dropped his hand, and he seemed even slower to step out of your way. When you walked past him, you could feel his gaze on you—always watching—and you smiled when he called out to you, telling you that he looked forward to seeing you on Sunday.

No one was more sad than you when you had to disappoint him.

An unexpected cold had you bedridden for days, and while you knew that an illness was a perfectly valid excuse to miss church, you couldn’t swallow down the disappointment. You hadn’t missed a single Sunday since you first started going, and you thought to yourself that the first thing you’d do when you returned was explain your absence to Father Mayhew.

You had never anticipated him showing up at your door to get it himself.

No one ever knocked on your door these days, so the sound had taken you by surprise. Your friends—while supportive of the direction your life had taken—didn’t quite understand it and so you didn’t see them as often, and as for anyone else… Well, there wasn’t anyone else who would come knocking on your door. You didn’t do that anymore so no customers were going to be greeting you on the other side with their money in their hand and an eager grin on their lips, and you doubted any of the women in town would want to sit down for a chat anytime soon.

Your shock at Father Mayhew’s presence was all over your face.

“Father,” you stated, the lilt in your voice hinting at your surprise.

He looked just as you were used to seeing him—clerical collar still on, not a hair out of place, and a hint of a smile on those pink lips. You stood there gaping at him for all of five seconds before it struck you how rude you were probably being.

“I…I’m so sorry. Um…come in,” you told him, stepping out of the way and widening the gap in the doorway.

He didn’t respond nor move right away, looking past you into your small house with a look in his gaze that you couldn’t name. If he were anyone else, you might worry that he was judging where you lived. You watched his jaw briefly tighten, a noticeable strain in his face, and it only just occurred to you that maybe this wasn’t appropriate? Although you were positive you’d heard of priests and pastors visiting the sick before, and while you certainly weren’t on your deathbed, you didn’t see why this would be different.

Before you could say another word though, his foot crossed the threshold, and you closed the door behind him.

“I do apologize for the unexpected visit,” he said to you, gazing around before his eyes landed on you again. “...but when I noticed that mass was absent of a face I’d grown to look forward to, I became concerned.”

You couldn’t stop your smile at his words

“Oh,” you softly said. “Well, there’s no need to be concerned. It’s just a small cold that will be gone in a day or two.”

You watched him exhale at that, nodding to himself, and you studied him, surprised to see that he looked genuinely relieved at that.

“I’m glad to hear that’s all it is…”

At that, your brows furrowed, and you watched him slowly walk about your living room.

“I had feared that some of your fellow church goers had scared you off.”

Your lips parted at his words, and he turned and looked at you.

“They often fall into the temptation of judgment, after all…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t know how to react with the knowledge that he knew it was you who came to see him once a week. You’d only spoken to him face to face twice, and you swallowed, looking away.

“I thought it would be a shame if they scared you off,” he confessed, and you noted that he was closer now. “I wondered what I would have to do to convince you to come back. Drag you, perhaps.”

You gave a soft laugh at that, although he didn’t join you, and it awkwardly faded. He stared at you in silence for what felt like a long time, and just when you were considering asking him if he wanted anything to drink, he reached out to touch the crucifix around your neck again.

“So devout,” he quietly said to himself. “It almost makes me ashamed…”

At that, you gave a heavy laugh, wondering how you could ever shame a priest.

“Why?”

“...because I see why they flocked to your door…money in hand.”

His gaze lifted as he said that, and you were still as you both just stared at each other. His words made you blink, and you were suddenly very aware of his hand practically on you. You couldn’t stop the slight frown that fell over your face, and for the first time in months—since you first stepped foot into that church—you felt…wrong.

“I see why their eyes trace every inch of you when you’re not looking…as if to relive the memory of what you felt like—tasted like.”

You finally took a step back, hand coming up to cover your necklace as if protecting it from his touch.

“What memories they must have of you…”

You wrapped your other arm around yourself, mind whirling to reconcile the man before you with the same man who’d always been so welcoming and gentle. Not once did you ever think he judged you for your past, and you supposed that you were right, but not once did you ever think he also might…

You hadn’t done that in over a year, but had it really escaped you so quickly that a seemingly devout man was still…a man?

“Father, I think you should-.”

“I don’t say any of this to offend you,” he interrupted, tilting his head. “I say it because I fight the urge to touch you every time you’re in my presence.”

You moved by him to make your way to the door, but like an ever present shadow you only just noticed, he was close behind.

“You can cover up as much as you’d like—wear skirts down to your ankle and shirts up to your chin…” his hand on the door halted your movements. 

You felt his chest just barely grazing your back, and his lips followed suit, the softness of them brushing against your ear as he spoke. That familiar cologne invaded your senses.

“...but none of it can hide the temptation you pose by merely existing.”

You shrunk away from him at that, tears in your eyes as he verbalized the same fears you had every time you walked into the building. You flinched when his lips touched the back of your neck, heart dropping to your stomach, but you reached for the door handle anyway.

“Father, I’d like you to leave-.”

Your words were cut off by your own sharp scream, taken aback by the feel of his fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your throat. His hand rested on the back of your neck, and you pressed your hand to the door when his lips grazed your cheek.

“They’re all like rabid dogs…just waiting to pounce,” he mused against your skin, sliding between you and the door and forcing you further into your house with every step. “Just waiting for you to give up this charade and go back to taking their money for a quick fuck.”

You blinked, and a few tears escaped.

“...but they don’t know you like I know you.”

He grinned against your cheek, and you winced as he lightly nipped at the skin there.

“They don’t know that you come to church at least thrice a week to light candles and pray…”

You were full on sobbing now, and you could feel the cool metal of his ring against the back of your neck.

“They don’t know that you never miss your weekly confession, telling me every time you so much as say the Lord’s name in vain.”

His free hand was reaching for the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one by one, and you gasped when his fingers finally met skin. He dipped his head, mouth finding the skin of your shoulder and collarbone interesting before his hand searched for your wrist.

“They don’t know that you are the most pious woman to walk through those doors,” he purred, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your wrist. “...and that I just want to ruin you for it.”

When his hand dipped between your legs, you were quick to try and stop him, still wincing at the tight grip on the back of your neck. Father Mayhew made a noise of disapproval, and your hand faltered when he harshly bit your shoulder.

“We are…and always will be…sinners…”

Once his fingers were inside of you, it was like the point of no return. You found it funny that he likened the men in church to that of rabid dogs when he himself was behaving like the very thing he used to insult them. When your knees buckled, he followed—one arm around you and holding you in place while the fingers on his other hand curved into you.

Every thrust of his fingers made you wetter—embarrassingly so—and when he pulled your head back, he forced a kiss onto your lips. He swallowed down your whimpers and noises of protest, a moan escaping him as he tasted the inside of your mouth. With him so close to you, you could feel the muscles and contours of his frame beneath his clothes, and you were forced to recognize your predicament and his strength and what that meant for you.

When you were face to face with him again, his hair was nowhere near as neat as it was when he first walked through your door. His pink lips were swollen and reddened from kissing you and dragging over your skin. Your pajama top had long been discarded, the bottoms long ripped and pulled off of you. Father Mayhew’s—Charlie—clerical collar was long gone, his shirt pulled open and hanging off of him.

You recalled the way your mouth had parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock finally dipped into you, stretching you with every inch and making your heart momentarily stop. His hand covered a breast, the feel of his ring cooling that singular part of your skin, the rest of you so overheated. His other hand was wrapped around your throat, and you clawed at his hand as he fucked you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in your tiny home, the only sound to rival it being his harsh grunts and your strained voice. Any fight that you’d put up had been quickly squashed down, shown in the harshest manner just how strong your priest was. You hated how good it felt, hated that you didn’t want this but was now forced to enjoy it. Nevermind the fact that you hadn’t enjoyed sex for the act itself in years…

…but of all people to find yourself in this predicament with.

Father Mayhew’s hands never stayed in one place for long. He seemed determined to touch every part of you he could get his hands on, lips tasting the saltiness of your skin. Sweat clung to your frame and his, his fingers sliding over you as he kneaded your thighs and your waist and your chest. Every time you reminded yourself how wrong this was, he’d push his cock into you to the hilt, and you’d involuntarily throw your head back.

You could feel your crucifix pressing into your skin, and your eyes watered.

“I must admit that I was—am—jealous,” he dragged out, voice hoarse and throaty and wholly unlike how you were used to hearing him. “Your devotion to God inspires an envy within me that I never knew existed.”

You took note of the scars on his back underneath your fingers.

“...a desire to have you completely devoted to me,” he bit out, covering your lips with his own. “You so desperately desire forgiveness and acceptance…and all the things you didn’t think you were worthy of having.”

He harshly thrust into you, making you gasp.

“...and I can give that to you,” he whispered into the kiss.

The power behind his thrusts had you scratching at both his back and the floor, eyes squeezing shut at the way his fingers dug into your skin. It was like he was both holding you to him and trying to prevent you from ever walking away. Your chest arched up into his as you gasped, choked whimpers climbing out of your throat with every push of his hips. He growled against your skin as his lips traveled to your neck, the sound almost demonic to your ears.

When you came around him—your first orgasm in over a year—you couldn’t swallow down the noise it forced out of you. You could feel blood beneath your nails and a slickness on the inside of your thighs, but all the while Father Mayhew didn’t stop.

With one hand pressed against the floor, he pushed himself up to look down at you. His free hand slid up your sweaty frame, coming up to wrap around the crucifix that rested against your skin. He tightened his hold around it, and he pulled on it, forcing you to lift your head and meet him halfway for a kiss.

“I want you just as eager to get on your knees for me…”

[levenlike11]

his hands come up to your cheeks and hold, looking- rather staring into your soul. you smile and your cheeks in his hands squish up making them look chubbier.

"wanna bite you." he says it still holding instense eye contact. you laugh and a faint smile appears on his face. "i missed you." his head drops on your shoulder and he takes a deep breath of your perfume.

"missed you too." you put your head on his, as if it hasn't only been less than a full day since you last saw each other. he thanks the owners of the place for the dim blue lighting in the dark room as it conceals the blush starting to make itself known on his face.

his hands that are hugging your figure travels down and down until they hit your waist and sneak under your top to caress your soft skin. every inch his fingertips touch burn with excitement and leaves goosebumps on his way.

"missed you so. damn. much." he sighs into your shoulder and places a small kiss on there, slowly moving upwards on your neck. you open yourself to him and throw your head back, enjoying his acts. his hands are softly scratching your back while he keeps kissing and nipping at your skin.

"show me how much you missed me then." you whisper near his ear and peck his lobe, knowing it makes his knees weak every time you do that. his attention is now diverted to your chin, biting it tenderly. "baby-" you whine when he licks the part he bit to soothe the pain he caused.

"my pretty thing. all mine." staring into your eyes again, he touches your nose playfully with his pointer finger. you close your eyes and lean into him, letting your lips touch gently at first. it doesn't take long until he's exploring your mouth feverishly, teeth clattering and tongues brushing against each other with lust.

you push him off of you for a second to take a breath but he chases after your lips and doesn't let you leave. you can taste the drink he previously had on his tongue and it mixes with the minty taste your altoids left in your mouth. he thinks he's found heaven, right here in your arms.

when he eventually pulls back, you can't help but giggle at all the lipstick stains on the lower half of his face. (and trust my word on this one, he wears it proudly until you force him to wash it off- which leads to another make out session, in the bathroom this time.)

───��─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

eren, jean, levi (aot) geto, megumi, toji, nanami (jjk) SUNARIN, hinata, iwaizumi, akaashi (hq) reo, chigiri, rin, sae (blue lock) draken, wakasa, mitsuya (tokyorev) giyuu, sanemi (demon slayer) and anyone else you'd like!

all feedback is extremely appreciated, sorry for the inactivity!🥹🫶🏻

[aphelionwrotes11]

MDNI 18+ (not edited)

Part 2

Trucker!simon, who finds himself a lovely bird at a local truck stop he often runs through on his usual routes.

Sits his massive self at the bar on one of the small stools, glaring at any of the blokes who stare at you a bit too long.

Gives you a blank look when you check up on him, asking if he’d like anything else.

“Just anotha’ cuppa, sweet’art” he always says, sliding his mug towards you, which looks microscopic compared to his massive hand.

You think he doesn’t like you, considering he doesn’t ever talk to you much when you try to make small talk, but he always leaves you a fat tip. You figure he’s just quiet. He can’t dislike you that much considering how many times you’ve glanced over your shoulder to see him gazing appreciatively at your ass.

It’s an especially rowdy night at the truck stop that finally breaks the camels back. A real gentleman decided he wanted a feel of you. So he didn’t hesitate to grab a handful of the fat on your backside, his table and him whooping and hollering as you squealed and slapped his hand away, glowering at him as you scampered away to the bar.

You held back tears as you started up another pot of coffee, never were the confrontational type. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had taken it upon himself to put his hands on you, but it would certainly be the last. Considering how Simon was sat at the end of the bar; shaking with rage, his knuckles white from being clenched tight as he stood.

It all happened so quick you didn’t even catch it, you back had been turned. The restaurant went from ruckus, laughter, and loud voices, to silence after the sound of a sickening crack rung through the room.

You turned just in time to see the asshole’s friends jump from their seats and go for your favorite regular; Simon. The handsy asshole laid flat on the ground, out cold.

It took no time at all for Simon to lay out the other three, he was twice each of their size in pure muscle, and obviously lacked nothing in skill. Once he was done he simply turned to you, pointed to the back room and said,

“Go get yer things.”

You didn’t think twice. Passing your manager who stood in the doorway, face solemn. You asked him quickly if it was okay for you to leave, he took one glance at Simon and nodded his head. You grabbed your things, throwing on your coat and met Simon at the door.

He takes your arm, surprisingly gentle for his huge form, he looked enraged. His shoulders tense, brows furrowed, you’re certain if he didn’t have a mask on the lower half of his face he would have a deep frown on his lips.

You thank him softly, following him as he leads you through the full parking lot. He says nothing, staring ahead. You tell him you don’t live far, you can just walk.

“No, you’re not doin tha’.” He says, and you don’t argue.

Helps you into the cab of his massive semi, getting into the drivers side and turning up the heat.

Offers to get you some food, “haven’t seen’ya eat a bite ol night, bird.”

You refuse, thanking him for the offer, telling him you’ll eat at home. You probably won’t, your stomach is still all twisted from earlier, if he can tell you’re shaken up he doesn’t show it. He just nods.

Takes you to the corner of your street, wouldn’t be able to drive his truck down the narrow road. You thank him again, asking him if there’s anything you can do to repay him.

“I know’a few things you can do for me, bird.” He says lowly, you feel your cheeks warm at the implication. You ask him what he wants. He grunts, glancing to the side as if he’s thinking.

“Gimme a kiss.” He says, tapping his cheek. Your eyes widen, is he serious? Out of all things he could ask for, he asks for just a kiss on the cheek? You shocked to realize you’re disappointed he didn’t ask for more.

He pulls his mask down to his chin, revealing his chiseled jaw and thin, scarred lips. You lay a trembling hand on his giant thigh for support as you lean over, and just as you are about to meet his cheek he tilts his head and has your mouth. Pressing a heated kiss to your lips.

It takes you a moment to catch up, but before you know it you’re in his lap, making out sloppily, mouths open and tongues swirling together. You sigh into his mouth, cupping his jaw as his hand cradles the back of your head.

When you start grinding yourself against him is when he stops.

“Not yet, bird. Gotta take you out first, do it the right way.” He says. The right way? What the hell.

“Take ya for dinner, treat ya real good, take ya home and fuck that sweet pussy halfway to heaven.”

He cups your ass as he whispers that nasty shit in your ear, one hand on your hip as he bucks up once against your wet heat. You let out a whimper and he just chuckles. Asshole.

Jumps out the truck and helps you down with two strong hands on your hips. Walks you all the way to your front door, smiling at your peeved expression. You were definitely gonna have to rub one out once you got inside.

Gives you a sweet peck on the cheek, gripping your chin with his thumb and finger.

“Be here tomorrow a’ seven. Wear something nice.” He says softly before turning and stalking off into the night. Leaving you flabbergasted on your front doorstep.

Note: I dunno if you guys can tell but im incapable of writing anything small. This was supposed to be just a short little thing about how sexy trucker!simon would be but i got so carried away 😭 he’s the ghost that haunts my nights, can’t get him outta my head

Simon Riley master list

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)

…I’m taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso

Black ! Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC

Gojo

Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out you’re not wearing any panties under it…welp..all plans are now cancelled

He’s a pervert and it’s your fault.

He’s never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.

“You have a very voluptuous—“

“Imma stop you right there….VO-WHO?”

“You don’t know what the word vo—-“

“No, I know. I’m confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.”

Gojo is 6’6-7” , he’s a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?

No.

No he cannot.

He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldn’t see how tight his fist were in his pockets it’d prove otherwise.

He’s so got damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on

“CAN YOU STOP.”

“Whhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.”

When you wear moomoo’s or a big shirt it is his favorite

Yup.

Moomoo.

Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.

Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesn’t sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.

He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man when he initially was a boob guy.

Geto

He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to then…eating…you…out…while you’re standing.

He loves watching you put on clothes.

Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.

If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.

One thing about Geto he’s very sneaky, he’ll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.

He can’t help it, your ass is so pretty.

Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.

The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.

He denies it to this day, but even if he did it’s your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?

Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend can’t wait to practically grind and hump against you into the cool shower wall.

He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others it’s a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , only you and him know the real intention behind it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.

Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and you’re laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it “Cleaning you up”…little perv.

“‘Was wrong?… Embarrassed?”

“YES.”

“Good, now c’mere.”

Toji

Ass eater.🫵🏾

That’s an ass eater he eat ass🫵🏾.

Toji “Ass Eater” Fushiguro

You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE

As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.

“You like my dress?”

“Hell yes, mama. Turn around for me.”

SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil

He definitely slaps and GRABS. It’s kinda hot though because he’ll do it anytime anywhere

For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.

“OOWWUH!”

“Sssh, Baby im watchin the game….what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?”

Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he don’t care he quite actually is your biggest fan.

Toji is your new seat btw.

Not just his pretty face but his lap too.

He’s a big strong man so don’t EVER think or assume you’re too heavy for him. It ACTUALLY wounds his ego more than you think.

Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure dom kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. It’s a slutty sight but he knows it’s exactly what can get you off before him

Nanami

This man here.

A KING.

Freaky king but a king none the less.

He loves every part of you.

Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you aren’t sure whether or not to point it out in fear he may stop out of embarrassment or awareness.

Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back

Nanami however does this

ESPECIALLY on date night.

Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself

“Wear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.”

“You sure it’s not, because it’s a bit tighter below the waist?”

And now hes blushing.

He’ll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.

Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.

Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.

“It’s okay, baby, honest. Use my face.”

“Kentoooo—!??”

One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but you wasn’t complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldn’t even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.

Choso

Lord bless him.

He is very….confused to say the least.

He never understood the attraction of women’s parts.

Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.

“Oh.”

“…oh?”

“You—“

You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.

Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT under all of those clothes!

“You’re sex—cute…”

Choso isn’t necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting you…

You’ve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.

Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.

So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.

Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually it’s 69 or you laid to your side.

Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he can’t help but to hug you from behind

Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.

Moans at the sight everytime

No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.

He doesn’t think he’s a pervert but from how he grinds and hump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.

If yall are wondering why I didn’t really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.

[sttoru]

‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’

☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!

satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.

ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.

though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.

“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”

you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.

“mama, go! mama go papa.”

satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.

your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.

you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.

however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.

“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”

even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.

“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.

satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.

“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”

your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.

you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.

it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.

your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.

“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.

“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”

you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.

“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.

your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.

he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.

“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”

the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.

“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”

you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.

it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.

[yuquinzel]

— nobody’s business.

feat. itoshi sae. a little sensual. 700+ wc. self indulgent :> publicizing your relationship with japan’s star player.

itoshi sae is holding onto your hand, a little more firmly than ever before. teal eyes out ahead on the field in front of you both searching for something you can’t name. you follow his gaze— it’s on the bleachers first, then hastily eyeing every player on the pitch. it’s on the spectators one second, then it’s on the cameras panning and zooming in from every direction.

sae grimaces when one such camera directs at the two of you, pulling you behind and away from the prying eyes of the media eager to catch just a glimpse of japan’s prized player and his partner who he keeps oh so hidden from the world.

he’s never denied being in a relationship. never tried to refute dating allegations with a non-celebrity, never once fazed to address the blurred pictures of him making out with someone in his car, never tried to hide the bruises on his neck that catch the eye of every fan leaving nobody wondering what it really is. he knows what they’ll do once they really know who you are— the paparazzi wouldn’t fucking leave you alone, following you everywhere. magazines would be willing to kill to get just one word from you and twist it to their likings. sae’s discreet with his words though, never gives them something to work with.

it was not until you addressed it to him yourself. just another article surfacing all around social media. something that had left a bitter taste on your tongue. ‘ itoshi sae and his supposed girlfriend ! ’ — it’s a picture of sae with a model you don’t know the name of, attending an event you weren’t invited to. he looks clearly unimpressed. but it helps little when every single comment under the article is how of well the two look together.

how well itoshi sae looks with someone who’s not you.

“you’ve already denied the rumours, so then why...” you’d said, avoiding his gaze for reasons you can’t pinpoint. “they always make up shit to write when their lukewarm ass doesn’t have real shit to sell.” he’d answered, “don’t think much about it. they’ll forget about it soon.”

when you didn’t say anything back, sae had known what he was to do. he’d known what it was you were asking of him with your silence. and for you, he was more than willing.

he’s sure a few cameras would’ve captured him with you by now, your face clear and beautiful for everyone to see and engrave on their papers and headlines. they’ll adorn you with pretty words and pretty adjectives, and he’ll have to share you with the eyes of the world now. something about it leaves a bitter flavor on his tongue, so he kisses you instead to taste the sweetness of your lips.

“don’t take your eyes off me,” he rasps between the kisses, one hand coming to cradle your jaw while the other hooks around your waist. “look at only me.”

“only you.” you say and sae breathes you in. he leans down closer, lips moving against yours more desperately than ever. he’s pleased with your answer. phantom touches of his hands slithering under your shirt and tracing the skin of your abdomen.

you forget about the match about to start in a mere minutes, about the cameras still desperate to get one glimpse of this very scene, and if you do remember that his teammates would march out any second now— sae makes you forget about everyone else when he tugs on your bottom lip lightly, “afraid? ” he challenges you with a long, languid glide of his tongue, “of what? I’m the only thing on your mind. ”

later when the game ends with the final pass from sae leading to a goal, the camera pans to you sitting in the vip section and cheering for sae and his team. another pans to sae when he notices you on the screen. sae ignores the roars of the crowd, ignores his teammates gathering around him, screaming for their win. he looks at you, waiting intently. you know what he’s asking of you — did you watch? he shifts forward ever so slightly — was i good?

you’re smiling as you mouth a clear I’m so proud of you — and only then does sae feels like he’s won.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

why am I posting this it's a year old 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️