#but they’re…pretty good about being good

[tonycries]

Like a Dog!

Synopsis. Jealous? How cute. He’s yours - and he’ll fúck you until you won’t forget it.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, jealousy s, marathons, NÉEDY BOYS, dúmbifícation, proposals, creampíes, praise, GOJO’S POWERS, márking, they’re YOURS, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s tattoos, cervíx kíssing, fitting it, talking you through it, p slápping, p talking, ex-husband!Toji, spítting, comfort, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Wedding vows!

“Soooo…” Toji’s sneaking long, languid drags of his fat thumb up and down your sappy folds. And it makes your breath hitch, your thighs quivering just in time for him to sidle two staggering palms underneath and stretch. Wide open. “-still...jealous, doll?”

Ruining you for what seemed like copious hours upon hours non-stop, that very same question left Toji’s scarred lips in cloudy little pants like a smug mantra. 

The bed was recklessly creaky at this point, splinters cracking with every sloppy pound that had your sanity doing much the same. 

And Toji’s crushing you against the clammy mounds of his Herculean pecs, heaving. Gasping. So, so needy that just about all you can do at this point is bumble out an embarrassed little, “Wh-why?”

“Because m’yours, mama.” Whining as his sheeny-lathered lips snicker from right beside your tender ear, and his mushroomy tip grazes right down his favorite target of your treacly slit. Slow. Steady. “And I hafta prove it.”

Nevermind the fact that he was talking like he wasn’t your ex-husband of just a few days. 

Nevermind the fact that you��re sure the pulpy depths of your poor cunt was already utterly bruised and battered with the exact bulky circumference of Toji’s proud crownhead. Because Toji Fushiguro could never dream of being with another.

He’s tugging you even more pliably into this mean full nelson of his, squeezing out a thick few dewdrops of buttery pre that lather your puckered hole. Rotund, curvaceous mound of his fattened head swirling patterned circles at your snug hole around and around-

“Don’ tell me this pretty pussy’s hngh- forgotten about me already?” He’s murking out, planting exactly three simpering swats! to your slick-flooded entrance before sinking in- “Heh- yeahhh that’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

Because your drooling cunt was always so greedy for him - your bloated pussy lips struggling and hungry being opened oh-so-widely agape. It made your slackened maw lather with a fresh wave of saliva at the sheerly raw stretch.

“Good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.” Toji’s huffing out, head tilting sleazily to the side to take in every inch of the heavenly bouquet envisioned right below him. “Bet ya missed me all deep inside, huh? S’that why you’re gettin’ all jealous over some rando?”

But, of course, the silent treatment never worked on Toji - and you’re finding him cooing, “Awww, c’mon my wife-” Such pointed, loving emphasis, “-talk to me. Lemme hear those pretty noises.”

And you hate the way that his rumbling baritone tilts into something mockingly higher. You hate the way that his bludgeoning tip rims around your gooey slick-filled entrance and makes your voice crack.

“T-talking about ah- jealous-” You’re managing out, and Toji’s willowy eyes widen ever-so-slightly at the way you can manage out coherent syllables even through each punctuating drill. “-but I ngh- saw the way you looked at my coworker, you green-eyed m-monster.”

He’s scoffing, spanking your overstuffed pussy once. Twice. Thrice just for good measure. “Feisty, aren’t you, mama?”

And every minute wiggle is dampered helplessly by the way that he’d curled two large forearms - muscular and veiny - around your legs to embrace you tightly. Chin rested over your head, “He was only bein’ nice-”

“And nice isn’t gonna get your hngh- cute cunt sucking like as slut like this.” Toji’s rolling his eyes, “Don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. No need to be shy.”

Massively engulfing hands of his crown the topped curve of your dangling knees and mold you to every one of Toji’s lecherous whims until you almost do feel shy. But there was absolutely nothing shy about the way that he was now leering at you.

Hot breath wafting with the sound of a low whistle, “Shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh? Don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya? Why the fuck would I ever wan’ anyone else? Silly girl…”

“S-stop- staring—” You’re whining out, fingers tangling through the tresses of Toji’s darkly silken bangs and pulling. A blasphemous little action that earns you a heavy-handed thud of his bloated head into your soppy cervix. 

“How can I not stare, mama- she’s mine, isn’t she?” And there was something in his tone, something…edged and rough- and you swear that Toji was the one that sounded somewhat jealous. Sounded gone. “And I’m yours, of course.”

Ruined every time his ruddied tip was skimming past the syrupy adhesive-like maze of your insides and thumping right into the targeted bullseye of your cervix. 

He’s so hot underneath you - feverish. The ridged ladders of his washboard abs slipping and sliding a lewd massage underneath your back. And the feeling is so heavenly that you’re wondering why you ever signed those divorce papers in Higuruma’s office in the first place.

“No needa worry- M’yours, doll-” Grit out. Harsh. Punishing as much as his deep strokes were messing up your poor insides. Making sure that you won’t forget. Voice seeping with something wild, “H-heh. Divorced or not- a d-divorce which won’t last for ngh- long anyway- I got every part of ya ah- fucking memorized, y’know? Think I’d do that for hngh- anyone else?”

“E-every?” Your legs and voice are wobbling like jelly at his words.

“Every.”

As if to prove his point, he’s thumbing gluttonously over the rounded outline of where he was rummaging your sodden walls. Shooting out a few wiry spatters of pre that almost fill you up to the brim - so much of it - once he’s gliding over with a few cocky touches.

“My favorite spot s’always here-” The tremors of his recoiling bounces into your spongy womb rattle your melty mind. You feel the jitters of his thick thigh muscles when he arches into a curve up, up, up. “-knock knock.”

“S-so…” Mumbling, shit- Toji was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough of you. “-filthy.”

He’s rolling his eyes at that little comment - you like it, anyway if that warm geyser streaming from between your mushy folds told him anything. 

“N’ I remember that your hngh- favorite spot was here…” Oh, you knew what he was doing - you knew exactly the way in which Toji’s dark brows would scrunch with rude delight when his strawberry divot slurs right past that magical spot. “Orrrrr…here-” Ramming resoundingly with his left-leaning girth in exactly the opposite way from the spot that only he could reach so well. Toji’s tongue pops out to lap at his sneaky dribble of saliva - he was loving this. “Whoops…maybe-”

“F-fuck-” You’re all but begging, your whimpers going straight to that forevermore bloated shaft of his. Pumping in a few horny ounces that make him grow even thicker, “-fine- fuck! Please-”

“Hm…” Toji’s tutting, bangs sticking to the plane of his prespired forehead as he shakes his head understandingly. Mockingly so. “What’s that?”

“Please-”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

He’s lolling out his tongue to lap at the salty pearls of tears beginning to waterfall from your fluttering eyes, “Say ‘please- husband.’”

The embarrassment and pure irritation curdling in your veins was strong, but your need - your throb from the wet patch between your legs, and that spot was even stronger. Shit, you needed him. “P-please…my husband.”

Ah, the words are barely spilling from your mouth, barely even reaching our own ears before Toji’s making you see white-hot pleasure flickering behind your lids. A drawling keen dragging out from your throat as soon as his curvaceous cockhead nuzzles up in a sweet, sweet hug into your g-spot. 

And your ears can only thunder with your heartbeat, your spine bowing as your husband plaps his fat cock into your most candied spots over and over and over-

“One more thing.” Something cool touches your face, and only seconds later do you recognize it to be a phone. Your phone. “Tell that lil’ loser of a coworker that yer hgh- married. And-” Another deafening pap! “-expecting.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Yours, always.

“I…I’m sorry, my love.” Nanami hisses - he heaves the moment his buttery-topped tip was sinking past your puckered entrance. And there’s a dangerous furrow between his neat, blond brows, “But I can’t have ya sayin’ anything bad about my wife.”

And he was so serious - seriously in love with the way you were gaping up with spit-flooded lips when one of his thick, calloused digits massage over your eagerly peaked clit with the chillingly golden band of his wedding ring. Matching with yours. 

Your fingers dig into the plane of your husband’s unfairly broad shoulders underneath his blue button-up, all rippling muscles and sheer dripping sex appeal. He hadn’t even bothered to take his office clothes before helping you…feel better. “Kento, I-I’m just sayin’ your new c-coworker is so much prettier-”

Thwack!

Only for him to cut you off with a heavy-handed spank to your treacly cunt, and a rumbling growl - rasping from beneath his stern lips once Nanami grants you with a filthy, filthy glissade of a French kiss. And you could taste him - taste yourself from his makeout with your slobbery pussy just before.

Your sticky slick lacquering his gummy lips in a candied glaze, slipping and sliding all the way down the dimpled edges of his grin, his chin, down below between his cushiony pecs- 

It was like a badge of honor, and Nanami Kento gladly and proudly adorned it.

You’re just leaking from that gooey spot between your legs when he’s back to pressing peck after peck on both your lips and your cushy g-spot. Dribbles of translucent slick drenching Nanami’s tawny happy trail - and his ring. 

One that’s pushed between your lecherously parted lips to swirl around that whiny cavern of your mouth, making you just shut up-

“G-gonna-” Clawing at his strong forearms, shocked that you were being halfway choked by your dear, gentle husband. “-gonna get dirty this way, K-Ken-”

“No, don’t mind getting…dirty if it’s you.” You’re hearing Nanami gasp from above you, murky pants of his shooting out in a rasping ah! ah! ah! And his droopily half-lidded eyes just bore into yours with sweet connection, “And I hate disrespectin’ my ngh- wife, this way but…but m’not gonna go easy on you tonight, darlin’.”

Fuck.

The bed sings out splintering creaks with every thud! of Nanami’s fatly bloated tip smooching up against your spongy cervix. Every bouncy bludgeon spurting out the most dewy ribbons of his precum from the very tip of his rounded crownhead. Proud and ruthless.

You can only wring your fingers through Nanami’s golden strands, unsticking stray locks from his prespired forehead. Babbles upon babbles spill from your lips, “I-fuck! Kentoooo- it f-feels so good.”

“Good, hm? Th-tha’s right-” Freely thumbing away a few puddly gumdrops of saliva that’d begun just spilling from the corners of your maw with every hit after hit- 

And every clashing pivot of his toned hipbones sting, heat blossoming up your spine in this sloppy mess of a mating press that Nanami had manhandled you into. But he needed more- more more more-

“S-shoooo good, Ken- right there-” Lewd little strings of hiccups are bubbling from your chest and wafting up between the bustling fingers still toying with your mouth and making you suck. Tongue swirling up the cold engraved metal of his ring as if your favorite honeyed lolly, “Always feels so ngh- good havin’ you inside me-”

Too good.

Unable to help yourself from greedily clasping onto that dangling yellowy tie sticking to your sweat-simmered tits and pulling-

And oh, this makes Nanami gasp- free hand slamming! down onto the timber bedframe. This makes his hips hammer forward with a loudly ringing pap! Plummy, split cockhead probing into your cervix hard. 

Never slowing down, never stopping- hell, he doesn’t think he even could right now. 

“H-heh, my clever girl.” A kiss against your forehead. “My needy girl.” Your cheeks. Each side. “My ngh- beautiful girl- most beautiful girl in this world.”

There’s such utter and true loving in his foggy mahogany eyes that you almost feel shy. “D-don’t look at me like that, Kento.”

“Y’know I only h-have eyes for you, my love…” Accompanied by the digits rummaging deep inside your sultry mouth to reel back with a sodden plap! And dip down to caressingly pinch your plump clit, “C’mon- tighter. Mark me up. Tight.”

And there’s nothing you can do but listen to what he says.

How could you not?

Not when the ever-sensible Nanami Kento was begging - pleading - down at you to choke his velveteen tie even tighter around his attractive throat. Adam’s apple bobbing at your increasing strain, lightning bolts of veins thumping when you squeeze.

“Yeahhh- don’ be shy. Let everyone know- fuuuuck-” Bleary head falling back with every adhesive-like cling of your elastic walls - or, at least, trying to if it wasn’t for your chokehold with his tie. Nanami’s lips curl into an oh-so-feral snarl, head tilting to the side to chafe his own flesh with the ropey bruises of your actions. “-mark me up s-so that the whole office knows m’yours. And I…”

Fuck, you looked so cute fucked dumb and drooling on his fat dick like this. 

Nanami’s thick muscular thighs are shivering at this point, shovelling your own further and further upon the more he could feel himself losing his fucking mind. 

“And I’m gonna m-marry you.” Bumbling out over and over like a mantra now, Nanami was so pussydrunk that his rotund tip wasn’t even kissing up against the bullseye of your g-spot directly anymore. Breath hitching, “Gonna marry- hngh- needa marry. B-be your husband- and-” Just dragging out achy massages of his swollen length to lustre every gooey inch of you with layers on top of voluminous layers of his- cum? “Sh-shit.”

Because Nanami was cumming and he couldn’t stop. 

Heaps of weighty ropes splatter across your elastic channel, it’s swashing around in thick masses every time he’s fucking it back deeply into you. “I love you.”

CRACK! 

At this moment, you’re sure that it’s your mind splintering into a million pieces, and only many, many hours later do you realize that it’s your poor broken bedframe. Because you’re overspilling with drooling dredges of pearlescent seed and bliss when that finally pushes you over the edge, too. “K-Kentoooo-”

“Shhh sh sh- m’here Hold onto me-” he’s rasping out. Airy. Depraved. Like Nanami doesn’t even know that the words are leaving his lips. “So perfect…wanna marry you, darling.”

You can only blurt out a drunken giggle, “Ken- we’re ngh- already married.”

“Oh…then…you already know m’yours…” Nuzzling his face into his favorite hideout at the crook of your neck, Nanami’s words are almost cracking into a whine - a plea for the very first time in his life. “-body and soul.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - XOXO

“Why hello to you, too.” You flinch when Geto snickers once his sneaking fingers massage downwards to pry open your thoroughly puckered and drooling pussy lips. He wasn’t talking to you. “Wanna help me make my girl all happy again?”

And he’s humming along, throwing your pliable legs easily over his sculptured shoulders with an understanding nod. “Mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”

“You’re s-such a tease.” You’re huffing out, brows knitting in a way that only made the pretty man above you kiss away. 

“And you’re such a green-eyed lil’ monster.” He’s purring back, a rasping growl leaking its way into Geto’s teasing words. “And as much as I love that ah- jealous pout on ya, gorgeous, better know it only makes me…harder.”

Geto’s snaking a hand to pry your drunkenly lolling head to veer downwards, chuckling at the way your droopy eyes widen when you’re taking note of his staggeringly bloated cock laid right there between your legs. Red and angry. So ready to pump the heated geyser between your legs full of his inches, that he can’t help but bawl out a ribbony string of pre smearing across your tummy. Enough so that you can almost taste it-

“What? What happened to my heh- snappy girl, huh?” Inky bangs mussing up when he’s cocking his head to simply leer. Such a sleazy look of depravity taking over all of his features, “Too big?” 

You’re shaking your head - gasping, “Y-yes but I want it- want you hck! inside me so badly, Suguru—”

“Say m’name like that n’ I’ll cum.” He’s rolling his eyes, truly unabashed and greedy. With a sopping wet plap! Geto’s planting your treacly slit with a spank, only for you to be presented with the big beefy expanse of his pale forearm before you can even make a whiny noise. “Now, bite down and take it.”

You think you could sob when every long, girthy inch of his fills you up to your very brim. Bulky globular tip kissing past your gluey lips and mazing you open so widely around him, until your elastic walls were tautly stretched till you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein, every goopy spurt of warm pre that showered your melty insides. 

“Heh.” Fuck, Geto’s heart just lurches with something warm at that heart-eyed cross of your pupils. Such a pretty picture. “Can ya count how many inches f’me, gorgeous?”

Ah, you couldn’t think much less count with just how battering Geto was with his mindless ruts just to fit inside. Washboard abs flexing with every push, push, push-

You’re letting go of his heated flesh with a soppy pwah! bursting from your lungs. “E-eight?” Only to be hit with a messy thud! of his thick cockhead dragging down your mushy walls, throbbing veins thumping at your tenderized spots in time with your very heartbeat. Oh. “Nine?”

“Atta girl.” The calloused mountains of his palms covet underneath your thighs and manhandle you even closer to lock them around his neck. Tighter. “Got a whole nine inches j-just for you, alllll for this pretty pussy right here.”

You can’t help but feel like a fucking toy at the merciless hands of Geto Suguru - and he’s more than happy to pliantly jerk you around until you were halfway through sobbing at the sheer pounds after pounds.

Your glossed lips can only part open when he’s punctuating each thrust with a tug on the precious hood of your clit, and Geto was always the best with his fingers. Dipping and swirling them around dexterously to make you see flashing stars, “Sugu, it- It feels- so-”

“Louder.”

“S-Sugu-”

“Ah ah- louder.” Mahogany headboard clattering against the walls, about to break. To snap. Just as much as he was right about now. “Don’ hold back any fuck- pretty noises from me. The entire ah- place hasn’t heard ya yet.”

“Mhmm, does it feel hah- good when big bad Sugu is fucking you stupid?” Leaving a sweet little pap! of his blushing red tip particularly hard into your g-spot, you swear you could taste the bliss of his bumpy veins branding into your tenderized orifices. “When ya don’t have to think about ngh- aaaany of those silly things?”

And you couldn’t worry about anything - not that too-flirty new member of the association, not your jealousy - not when Geto was fucking each and every thought out of your poor mind. 

Barely even registering it even once one engulfing hand curls gently at the back of your neck to hide away your prespired face into the clammy crook of his neck. So pretty and supple when he’s guiding you to bite, “C’mon then- heh- mark me. Use me. Show off that m’yours.”

“Y-you’re enjoying this-” you’re whining, though, nosing away to pinprick littering bites that blossom and bloom, and show off even if he had his traditional robes on. 

“And you’re turned on.” He’s finishing off your never-ending mewls, head lolling backwards drunkenly to give you an even bigger canvas to work with. “Feeling me all deep inside-” Splaying out a palm along your tummy to feel for that cylindrical outline of something hard. Aching. Bumping up in wet smooches into your deepest spots. “Such a possessive lil’ thing milkin’ me. I need you to fuck me. Fuh-fuck me.”

Muttering, “Ngh- should- should fuck you in front of the whole cult to l-let them know.” Your murky huffs are laced with something grumbling that makes his fattened tip twitch. 

It’s only then and there that you hear notorious clan leader Geto Suguru whimper. For the first time ever in his life, breaking at the seams when your nails rake pretty red valleys down the mountainous expanse of his Adonis-like back. 

Flexing and rippling and fuck-

Fuck, Geto thinks he could almost cum right then and there at the awe-strucken expression smeared all over your face. The way your lips were curling with trickling rivulets of drool and you barely even realize.

“That’s right-” He’s cooing at your nonsensical babbling like it was his favorite conversation, and you’ve never seen him so fucked. So much like putty underneath your hands as you leave marks for days. Maw slagging open with a smirk, heady lids so heavy and hypnotized that they’re practically closed. “That’s right, that’s riiiight- That can be arranged.”

Your greedy fingerpads tangle with his silken locks and jerk in shock, syrupy sap leaking sobbing between your pursed lips and forming a little ring right at Geto’s hulking base once you’re registering what he said. “Can be- arranged?”

And ah- Geto knows he loves you. He really, really loves you. Marked and yours, he’s whispering, “Anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-I’m yours…”

And not even the way that poor Choso was buried vulgarly deep into every syrupy nook and cranny of your pretty pussy would stop him from rambling those whimpering words. In fact, it was the opposite. 

He was so thoroughly pussydrunk that just a few sloppy sucks of our glutinous walls makes Choso’s heaving chest stutter mid-fuck. Drooling maw falling pathetically open at the sheen sprays formulating around his swollen, rose-pink shaft. 

So glossy and pretty that he feels hypnotized.

“Cho…” Only snapping half-awake once your trembly fingers dive into Choso’s slightly dampened chestnut locks. And the flutters of his long lashes are so adorable, “D’you ngh- mean that?”

“Of course! Don’t be silly, my baby–” And he can’t even believe what he’s hearing - you? The light of his life? Fucking jealous over a too-flirty sorcerer? God, if it wasn’t for the way that his breath hitches at the dewy cling of your mushy walls exactly around his sensitive underside, then Choso would’ve thought that he was dreaming. “You know you’re the ah! only one for me.”

And he meant it with every pound after papping pound of his plumpened, ruddy crownhead drawing spattered gashes into your rubbery channel. 

Rubbing over one slender thumb to trailway the peak of your buttony clit, Choso can’t hold back his keening whine at just how much wetter that makes your already-slobbering pussy. Swirling pressurized gyrations over and over, he’s muttering away, “G-gonna prove it- g’na make you cum- ngh- have to- ah fuck-”

“Oh- shit- B-baby, I can’t stop-” You’re whispering at the fountained squirt of your slick flooding the sultry non-existent space between you two - you’re so responsive today, and Choso thinks he could cum just from this. 

“Fuck me-” he’s dribbling through roughly parted lips, nose crinkling with utter bliss. “Fuck me- ngh- Yeah yeah yeah, milk me and make me yours, baby- only ever want you to milk me.”

You’re snickering with such utter loving in your eyes that it makes him shy. “H-heh, so cute when you’re fucking yourself so hah- deep in me like this, baby.”

He could whine, could beg your cute cunt for more. Could feel not even a mere inkling of embarrassment as his tongue lolls out like such a slut to slide glazy digits all the way into the back of his greedy throat. Dewy eyes shuttering at the sugarcoated taste of your sweet, sweet juices-

“Oh, but you sh-shouldn’t ever need to be jealous. I w-wanna…” he’s starting off with a tremoring wobble of his jutted, strawberry-pink lips. Thickly viscous coatings of saliva and your slick hanging off of them like a sticky second skin, “-wanna s-stuff my face between your pretty legs forever and ever, baby–”

And Choso couldn’t fucking believe the words were spilling from his mouth - he was supposed to be making his poor girl feel better. Supposed to be comforting you.

But these are so sinful that it makes your beloved boyfriend burn a bright blossoming red, such a pretty flush eating one the apples of his cheeks. One you can’t help but cup, “S’that all?”

Shit, Choso can feel his buttery pre coil out in a few soppy splotches that puddle at the end of your pulpy cervix, split-ended shaft making such a mess. His hefty breeder balls clench tautly at the teasing tone of your voice- dammit. He can’t cum before you.

“N-no.” Pearly white teeth sinking into his gummy bottom lip, Choso chews away as if it was his favorite candy. Trying so-very-hard to hold himself back. “Wanna fuck her- ngh-” And just one look– just one sneaking spy down at where he was disappearing back and forth always left him stupidly speechless. “-her…p-pretty lips until I…die. Think m’ngh- addicted, baby—”

He was so precious.

Tear-streaked face nuzzling the crook of your neck, dexterous fingers knotting around the bulky base of his length. And the only thing that Choso’s heavy tongue can jumble out is a mixture of your name and please- please please-

“Aww, Cho–” You’re prying his sweaty face away to gaze down ravenously into yours, and just the sweet eye contact is enough to make his skin even more feverishly blushing pink. “Are you close?”

“N-no…”

A lie - and both of you knew it.

Because Choso’s streaks of thumping veins down his sensitive cock always throbbed so much harder when it was building up. His dark lashes lacquering with a salty layer of tears, sculptured abs flexing and pulling tight when his sloppy hips pap! pap! pap! into your fleshy mounds like such an animal.

Choso has never felt more out of control - more and more like his sanity was fraying away with every bumpy nudge of his dewdropping rotund tip into your bouncy sweet spots. With every drag of your raking nails down his scalp in a way that makes him think he would fucking purr if he could-

“I…I lied.” He’s confessing like his greatest sin, one arm wrangling around your waist to smush your naked tits against his cushy pecs. Cozy. “M’gonna cum-”

“Cum f’me, Choso.”

Biting back a shrilling mewl at the lecherous use of his full name, he’s already feeling the white-hot shockwaves of his tightly teetering orgasm swirling around in his thwacking balls. Urgently latching two soft-padded fingertips onto your clit, Choso pinches-

And then you’re both cumming.

You don’t know who was first - but in the depths of your lust-filmed mind, you’re sure you tied for the hardest. Because you’re seeing ivory - or make that was just the thickly viscous globs of seed that verspilled from your knotted cunt. 

“Fuh-fuck me-” he’s gurgling out, reeling you into his glimmering, toned body so tightly. Usually so conscious of crushing you with his weight, but now you’re being pinned to the soaked sheets with every ounce of him. He’s melting into you, abs against your tummy, thighs against your own, head dripping into your throat to bite. “Love you- love you love you love- love being yours. And yours o-only.”

Clingy wads of seed sloshing out of you with every sensitive buck, Choso’s still fucking you through your high. Fucking you like he can’t stop the steaming hot piles of cum being poured out into your cozy pussy until you were flooded to the brim.

And through your black-tinged vision you can make out the hypnotized figure of him dipping down two ravaging fingers to smear the clingfilm of lustrous creamy white. Swabbing a generous helping before popping them into his dribbling mouth-

“Baby, did you know curses mate for life?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Cross my heart

“Hah- what was that again, silly human?” Sukuna’s crossing over his big beefy arms exactly how he knew you liked, and the way you’re ogling the powerful flexes of his biceps is just so darn cute. “Jealous? Repeat that f’me- for your king.”

As if you could. 

As if Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just fucking you stupid right now - for what seemed like hours and hours and hours. The fat globe of his bawling cockhead drawing a few trickles of sap down your battered g-spot each and every time. Every vicious rut arching perfectly off of his luxurious throne to leave wet plap! after plap! after plap! on your poor stinging mounds of flesh.

You were supposed to be riding him - but, of course, the king of curses had to steal your thunder. Had to shut up your shrilling whines by bumping his hips into you mercilessly. 

“Oi oi-” Two dark-nailed digits are slicking in front of your deliciously crossed eyes to snap you out of your cockdrunken little haze, and with a sharp snap! your pulpy cervix is being bludgeoned with three thick drags of one strawberry-ruby tip. He’s fisting his other matchingly swollen length with fat fingers, thumbing down those lightning bolted veins mouth-wateringly. “Don’t tell me yer tappin’ out ngh- already?”

Your mewls come out candied and so, so needy. Bonelessly jittery arms curling around Sukuna’s thick neck, to jerk your hips mere sultry inches down his soppily glazed shafts. “I-I’m- not- I was just…”

“And now yer fuckin’ running away.” He’s drawling out, and oh, you could tell that he was enjoying this. Monstrous mouth on his stomach spilling out a few greedy puddles of saliva at that oh-so-desperate pout on your face. Grinning. “Can’t talk but- ya can ah- run away? Where are ya going, huh? Lemme escort ya, brat.”

Before you can even blink, he’s baring you with such a feral grin. Plumpish lips pulled back to show off those elongated canines, rumbling snickers shooting out from between them the very moment Sukuna’s curling a staggering arm around the small of your back. Hard.

Crushing you against the sweat-simmers mountains of his cushiony pecs, you’re at the perfect deepened angle for his second mouth to just dote on the weep tip of your clit. 

“Sh-shit-” Your head tumbles airily backwards at the roughened smooch of his oversized tastebuds down your neglected clit, so hot and greedy that it makes you see stars. Mumbles slurring with every syllable, “Kuna i-it feels so good-”

“Well, duh.” Sukuna has no qualms rolling those glowingly demon-red eyes, plumpened cock swiping copious syrupy dewdrops around and around your puckered hole. “Dunno why ya think of all this- ngh! fuck- stupid shit…Ya really think I make jus’ anyone ah- feel like this?”

You’re huffing, knowing exactly the stupid conversation that got you here. “Not m-my fault- everyone in your court is always trying to be ngh! fuuuck- a-all over you and I just got a little jeal-”

“No shit, woman.” Fuck- you should’ve expected the punishing little pinch of his plushy fingerpads around your beaded nipples. And Sukuna can only tut, “Gettin’ jealous over low-lives for ngh- what? How m’I gonna get that cute lil’ brain of yours to f-finally understand, hm?”

And it’s like he was trying to drill that idea into you. In many ways.

Sukuna’s letting a third of his massive palms pucker up your swollen pussylips. Lecherously so.

Dancing his heated fingertips up and down up and down those saturatedly puffed-up edges before letting the hefty hilt of his stacked shaft fall in a weighty smack! Once. Just enough to make you sound out a shocked yelp at the messy French snog of his second cock down your treacly slit.

Slow and languid - the complete opposite of how vigorously he was now filling you up with those exact inches. “My jealous girl- ngh- one’s not ‘nough, right? Good thing your Kuna has two.”

Yeah, his size was incredible. 

Your parted lips couldn’t stop quivering, couldn’t stop streaming out geysers of cockdrunk spit at just how close you felt to bursting. 

Because his girths were plugging you mind-numbingly full, thumping veins massaging in sweet little glissades down the most treasured sweet spots of your walls. Two of Sukuna’s fingers dip downwards to spread your bulging lips, using every ounce from years upon years of battle just to buck. Up, up, up-

“Sh-shit—” he’s hissing underneath his headily cloudy breath, jaw clenching at the velvety slide of himself stuffing you doubly full. And if Sukuna thought that he wasn’t handling this well, then he wasn’t ready to gaze with glazed eyes up at you. “So- tight. Look at that bulge. Feelin’ full, brat?”

Yes. You could almost sob, pulling on those bubblegum curls at the base of Sukuna’s neck when he’s only pivoting to sink in even deeper. Yes yes yes yes-

“Good. G-gonna make a biiiig mess- here-” You’re whimpering brokenly at the sharp throb of one index of his probing about halfway down your tummy, where Sukuna’s sweltering hot tips were scouring. “-maybe then ya won’t forget who’s yours.”

“M-mine?” You’re blinking your droopy eyes up at him, and shit- he can feel his regal cheekbones burn at the pretty sight.

Drooly little squelches are wafting off from underneath you after every battering ram of an innocent peck up into your goopy depths. And Sukuna only matches the slurping sounds back up above when he latches his lips onto yours.

“Kiss me- kiss me proper.” Your maw dangles open drunkenly with a prying tug from one of his thumbs, “Lick-” And it’s so fucking filthy that you can feel your slobbering pussy lacquer with another candied wave of slick, flooding between your legs and helping you slip and slide in lewd gyrations of his lap. A mess that his excess mouth gladly laps up. “Spit.”

You do - letting the gleaming thick wad splatter onto Sukuna’s eagerly awaiting tongue and lather his mouth even wetter. And you right along with-

With your orgasm taking you by surprise - fuck. Right at the moment your dripping cunt pecks his twin hilts. 

You hadn’t even noticed the way it was building up and up and up- not until you’re letting your eyes sprint to the sluggish back of your head with a moan. 

“I-I’m-” Barely able to stutter out, stomach piling hotly with the shockwave of your high and the pleasurably liquidly masses of Sukuna’s buttery pre. Even more as he watched you fall apart. “-cumming—!”

“I know I know, nasty girl. Fuckin’ filthy.” He’s planting heavy-duty pound after pound to permanently brand all those spots, your cervix, everywhere and anywhere with the rounded circumference of his bloated cockheads. Swiping off those miniscule splatters of remnants, grumbling - with such a content smile. “Gotta work on your h-heh aim, though. Notice anything, brat?” 

Notice? What was there to notice? You muse you could barely even think - barely even breathe with the way that your mind was still jolted with your orgasm. With the way that Sukuna’s bustling cocks were stretching your gluey walls permanently open and-

Oh.

Oh.

That’s when your lust-filmed eyes see it - the tattoo. Nothing out of the ordinary to see Sukuna with a cursed marking on his tongue, but what came right after was what had you gasping…your name. Inked right on his flesh.

“Next time ya get- tch…jealous, m’ngh- tattooing your name here-” Drifting down his clawed digits from your hips and over to his own. And then up to his heart. He was dead serious. Planting your agape mouth with a sappy kiss, “-and fuckin’ ya in front of the whole court, my silly human.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Casual?!

Sure, this arrangement with you was supposed to be casual but…one simple hangout with friends later and Ino Takuma knows you’re the only one he’d ever want to see walk down that damn aisle. He knows.

Because you’ve got your trembly legs practically padlocked greedily around the slender curve of his toned waist, your slobbery folds greedily drooling down every curvaceous inch of him. And oh, he can’t help but let off a quiet whine at the grumpy furrow in your brows, “W-wan’ more, Taku–!”

More. 

More. 

More more more that made his peachy-pink tip drivel out a few slippery douses of pre down your rubbery walls like your favorite sort of icing. Only adding to the complete and utter mess he’d already made-

“Are ya sure?” Ino’s drawling out, mean hips angling to skim just past the bruised and battered orifice of your g-spot. Slowly puckering up in a French kiss against your cervix, he’s catching a thumb down the eager globs of cum from just before that were now sloshing out of you. Teasing it into his mouth, “Yer already so f-full, pretty- Hmmmm, maybe we should just hngh- rest now-”

Ah, he knew exactly what would happen.

Exactly how it would only take three curls of his fat thumb up and down the lustrous layers of buttery seed that were staining your puffy pussylips for you to snap. To let out a cloudy pant of swears before planting your quivering feet flat on the plush mattress and flip the two of you over. 

Ino’s leaving a stinging spank once the mound of your ass rests right up against the tight curve of his rounded balls, slobbering a glossy snail trail all over his heated skin in a way that make him groan. “Ohhh, love it when yer rough w’me like this.”

“Just one more…” He’s not even sure if you knew just how lethal that pout of yours was, fingers digging into his scalp to pull on his silky chestnut locks. And Ino lets you. Fuck- he lets you. “Want to be s-sure that next time, everyone knows you’re mine.”

Oh. Ino can feel his neat brows raising, hips rummaging upwards into your gluey depths with a mindless slam! “Holy shit. I-is that what this is- you’re ngh- jealous?” Latching onto the pivoting motions of your hips, “That’s so fucking hot.”

Indeed, and who knew that a flirty waitress would leave you fucking the sanity out of him like this. 

Ino’s finding himself keening at the smaller digits of yours staking your nails and your claim all over his pretty tawny hair, his throat, his pecs. Marks upon marks upon marks-

“Hah- fuuuuck- you jus’ feel so ngh- good, baby—” you’re practically purring, jerking your hips to mush his fattened mushroom tip into your sweetest spot with practice. Up and down and Ino can’t look away. “Makes me wanna k-keep ya all to myself.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s quirking up one brow, and you can’t help but find it so rawly sexy the way he does it. “S’that what you hngh- want? Wanna keep me until ya-” Both of you hissing when he’s grazing his soft fingertips across the creamy wads of cum spilling from your soppy slit. Before pushing it back in- “-until ya milk me dry, pretty?”

He was always so mean with his mouth - but the way that Ino was arching his spine the perfect curvature off of the drenched sheets was even meaner. 

Choking out through long, unsteady heaves of his pronounced pecs, “Shit, greedy girl. D-don’t know if I even can cum anymore, y’know?”

“Just one more?”

“Dammit…dammit! Ya know I can’t- ah- resist ya.” He’s tutting, “Just oooone more for m’girl?”

Deep, vulgar strokes plap! plap! plapping! against your own sloppy staccato. Vicious. Hard enough that the excess ribbons of cum smear and sludge all inside your tight entrance. It feels so completely lecherous that you don’t even hesitate before craning one set of fingers behind your back to graze over his puckered ballsack.

Tender touch making Ino’s jaw drop with a whine -  a whine. 

“Y-you vixen–” Soft hair splaying out across the pillowcase like a halo when he’s throwing his head alllll the way back, matching the way his eyes slide behind until all you can see are those ivory whites. “Fucking take it then, always ruinin’ me with this p-pretty pussy o’ yours.”

“S’that so?” You’re musing, teeth sinking into the tender spot right at his left earlobe. And Ino’s face is so sweaty and flushed nuzzling into yours, streaked with a cherry-red blush that looks oh-so-cute. “No need to be shy about it, Taku–” 

“F-fuuuck- don’ say my ngh- name like that.” And there’s something in the way he giggles all pussydrunkenly, “Gonna make me- cum again- Fuuuck, only you could m-make me like this.”

Oh?

So very drunk off of you and the clingy smooches your sloppy cunt was leaving on his rock-hard length that he just couldn’t stop babbling. Faster. Couldn’t stop running his kiss-bruised mouth with every thwacking thrash! against your magical spots, dotting gumdrops of dangerous pre with every single jackhammer. Sloppier. 

And that smile on your face is heavenly. “Say that again, baby?” But your words are devilish.

As if to whisper his deepest darkest secrets in hoarse, breaking whimpers into your ear, Ino’s curling his dextrous inches of fingers around your throat. Hauling you greedy centimeters closer until his heady breath was bouncing in warm puffs off of your features, in awe taking you in. Drooling. Blushing. Syllables drowning in embarrassment, “Only you can ah- fuck me stupid like this- o-only you…m’yours.”

“Gonna hafta let hngh- everyone know then-” you’re humming, voice so silky smooth but Ino’s ruddied cock could feel the sweltering hot gushes as you only got wetter. “-I’ll be ah- showing you off then-”

“Mhmm– yeah- yeah, whatever you say, sweetness.” He’s sighing underneath his breath when your bounces only grow more vicious. “Proper name, place name…backtory stuff.” Face drooping into the strained crook of his neck and- oh.

And then you bite him and Ino thinks he sees the gates of heaven.

With you, straddling him right then and there like the angel you are. Your needy pussy swallowing up torrential ounces and ounces and ounces of his ribbony cum. The sappy masses mixing and meshing with the already-filthy puddle that he’d made before.

There’s just so much spilling from that strawberry pink divot peaking at his crownhead, that Ino’s entire body hunches over. Sweat-dampened forehead sticking to yours, shivers sprinting down his spine to where he was maintaining a vice-like grip plugging you full of his swirling cum.

Bleeding into his words when he’s muttering up at you through long, fluttering lashes, “C-can we hold hands when we go out now?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - WEAK

“M’not weak.” He’s spitting out, long snowy lashes fluttering with every sheeny glissade of your puckered pussy lips rovering up and down his achy, overused cock. Up and down up and down up and- “So ngh- m-mark me up.”

And it was just about the only thing that Gojo Satoru wanted - the only thing he yearned for - right after proving to you and everyone else that he was yours. 

He’d just finished smearing your prettily puckered lips with a thick lipstain of sappy cum, before manhandling you on top of him to ride him for hours and hours and hours. You’re so gorgeous milking his fucking soul, with Gojo’s own velvety blindfold dangling off of your neck.

Planting a long, exaggerated snog of his plump rosy lips on your sodden mouth, Gojo’s pulling away with a dramatic pout. “Wan’ to show them how the ah- strongest fucks. For everyone t-to know how well you- hngh!”

You’re proving exactly his point with a clingy clench of your glutinous walls hugging his rummaging cockhead. Slipping and sliding between his leaky mushroom tip between your saturated lips oh-so-easily with just how soaked you were.

With a stinging smack! of his slender, six-inch fingers onto the arched curve of yours ass, Gojo’s helping your bulging lips swallow up every one of his fucking inches. Greedily. 

“Why?” You’re huffing out a clouded pant, hitting Gojo’s playfully loving features. Words taking on a whiny tone that you only ever saw used by your boyfriend himself, “S-so that even more girls could flirt with you when m’right ngh- there-”

Swat!

Once. Twice. Thrice until Gojo was sure that your sharp mouth was reduced to flooding with nothing but needy whines at his punishing little thwacks. 

Reminding you of how he’d turned down anyone and everyone else that flocked to him.

You can only watch when he’s curling one big, beefy forearm around the pivoting small of your back. Sapphire eyes rolling up at you, “Girl, as much as I hah- looove that feisty hngh- mouth o’ yours. You think just anyone s’gonna make the st-strongest theirs?”

Before you can answer, he’s swabbing out a caramelized wad of translucent saliva, dipping down to your neglected clit and leaving off a pressurized spank.

“Silly lil’ thing. The answer is- no-” He’s humming away, like he wasn’t just driving your body oh-so-feral right about now. Prattles of praises dripping with every dousing dab of his globular tip opening up your gooey depths, “-so no complainin’ now, my girl.”

And it was so true.

With a few copious more kisses lingering on your tongue, Gojo’s blessing your tastebuds with a wet thwack! of his drooly saliva. Pecking away the overspilling spatters beading at the corners of your lips, “See how well ya take it? So no need ta get ngh- jealous, sweetheart.”

And maybe it was high time that you’re asking for a break, high time that you’re breathing in heaving gulps of air to try and organize your dazed mind. 

But the only thing you find yourself doing is carressing your palms to give Gojo’s bulging pecs a good firm squeeze. Digging your nails into the plush muscle in a way that makes his nose crinkle with a whimper.

“C-can’t help it, Toru–” Head throwing back with the roaring pap! of his clammy skin sticking to yours with each bounce, you’re stuffing your snug cunt so unbearably full with his massively large inches. And it only makes you want more more more- “-you’re just so pretty…”

Oh.

“Yeah?” Gojo’s letting his head splay-out into the pillow with a woozy grin smeared all over his ruined features. One set of his biceps rippling when he’s resting it sexily behind him, the other twitching when he’s curling one finger underneath the blindfold at your neck and dragging you until you’re mere sultry inches away. “Ya think m’pretty, huh?”

Your blood curdles in your vein with embarrassment at what you’d just babbled away cockdrunkenly - what you were still babbling out. “Y-yes. Unfairly pretty.”

Fuck, Gojo was just twitching his bulked rotund tip into your goopiest depths. Still so sensitive. Earning you a low whine puffing from between his lips, and the sweetest of kisses against that tender g-spot. 

“H-heh…” And if you were in a better state of mind, you’d have sworn that the great Gojo Satoru’s suave voice trembled with such an obvious crack. “M’gonna marry ya- I swear.”

And that massive diamond ring bunched up in his drawer to be mentioned later, you’re feeling the burning sting of his pampered fingernails raking bruising lines down the curvaceous arch of your spine. The sheer bend of it sending Gojo licking his lips, eyes craning to admire the bumpy pathways of his perfect work.

You’re hissing your own crescents drawing the very same thing all over Gojo’s Herculean front the very moment his jackhammers get too much. Strawberry red lines against his peachy flush. Plummy split-end probing deeply into all your treasure trove of geysers that it felt like just the slightest bit of recoil parting your gluey flesh made him mad. 

“Ohhh, girl-” The smile you’re bared with is so wild - unrestrained. Showing off his sharpened canines like such an animal, drooling and gleaming with mouth-watered sap. Breaths staggering out in hot pants, “-the way you hah- stake your claim on me is sooo sexy. Because m’yours, huh?” 

And maybe if this was any other time then you’re sure you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you’re hurtling into your orgasm headfirst with just those words and the bruising twang of his fingers pinching your clit.

Yet, it feels so good - Gojo Satoru was always the best at whatever he did. 

And right now you can feel your throat burn with the wrenching call of Toru— your hips stuttering down into his almost-thunderously. Riotous, vicious drags to plumpen your favorite spots with the curved angle of his thick cock, so drag out your high for far too long-

But Gojo wasn’t done. Of course, he wasn’t.

Not until spearheading few determinedly roughened thrashes up into your soppy cervix with a gritted slash of his mouth. 

“Yeah yeahh- y-you can handle it, girlie-” Swab after swab after swab that made your second and third orgasms cash into one. “Gotta s-suck me ngh- dry now, m’kay? Make aaaaall of Toyko lose their fuckin’ electrcity- ah- instead of worryin’ that pretty lil’ head with stupid things. Okay?” Final, heaving slopes of his thrusts- “Gotta take eeeverything th-this big cock takes like a champ, m’kay? Because it’s all yours heh…”

And then you’re milking him and you’re milking him until he’s gone. Ruined. 

The strongest reduced to nothing but a lecherous mess of whimpers and feral twitches of his ruby-red tip. Flooding your poor cunt over and over with waterfalls of his creamy sap, so fucking overstimulated that he can feel his footfalls planting down firmly on the mattress. Eyes watering, spine hunching-

CRACK!

Ah, Gojo’s cracking his leaky lids open to a dim bedroom, air murky with sex and buzzing jujutsu. Exactly how he wanted it - for everyone in every ward of Tokyo to know who made him feel this way. So good. To know how he was yours.

Gojo looks up at you, cock jerking ever-so-slightly at your heaving figure straddling him and oh, he’s in love. “Let’s take out the lights in all of Japan this time.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Soulmates.

“Cummin’ on my haaaah- cock for the fourth time and still not ‘nough?” And perhaps for the first time ever in his life, the ever-stoic Higuruma Hiromi sounded breathless. Words hitching into a needy lilt of his voice, “-still want fuckin’ more, greedy girl?”

Yes. The answer was yes yes yes yes - and it was bleeding into your every action. 

Steadying your precarious hands on the cool mahogany plane of his office desk. Important law documents rustle and fall with every single motion of your hips pivoting backwards against Higuruma’s toned ones, wrenching out resounding paps! of clammy skin-on-skin. Saturated lips puckering up around every solid, girthy inch he could give, “...J-jus’ want you, Hiromi.”

“Hm, s’that right, angel?” Planting a sudden spank of his thick digits down onto the jiggling mound of your ass. And if you crane your head over your shoulder just right, you’d catch that simpering dimple at the end of his curling grin. “Such a needy girl- bet ya can’t stop thinkin’ about me, huh?”

And- shit, Higuruma wasn’t expecting his lovely angel to actually nod. 

To let your head tumble up and downwards like you were out of control, mewling out affirmative yeses.

Without a second thought, he’s tugging the tattered rest of your tight silken skirt cleanly off. Engulfing palms smoothing over your stinging flesh and spreading your puffed-up pussy lips so wiiidely agape.

Your squirmy hips are being pinned down with one of his strong arms, and the forever-deepening angle of Higuruma hiking up a singular thick thigh. Neat black garter only digging into his supple leg muscles and making them look even bigger. “Take this fuckin’ cock now- no need to be shy.”

What a pretty sight.

Of your sheen-slicked folds struggling and yearning to take up more more more of him. Slobbering out sweltering hot geysers of sickly sweet slick that drizzle between his digits and down to that neat, black happy trail. You were so needy right now and Higuruma has never loved anything more - well, other than his love for simply you, of course. 

“Not a single ngh- inch left- hah- ya really are made f’me, huh? All this for jus’ me?” He’s hissing out over the knocking thuds of your knees bumping into the wooden furniture with each pressurized thrust. But of course, Higuruma couldn’t have that- bending his legs with a grunt to lift your own boneless limbs ever-so-slightly midair. And you take it so fucking well- “M-maybe I hafta make ya ngh- jealous of overtime more often.”

You’re mumbling, “Hiromi—”

For which you’re shut up by the pads of his rounded fingertips rolling over your pulpy clit with a patterned heart. “Kidding- kidding, angel. But I wouldn’t s-say no to ya barging in my office n’ takin’ this fucking cock more ah- often.”

Pump and pump of his vigorous shaft, you feel like you can only perch your hips higher and take it. 

All the while Higuruma’s babbling away pussydrunkenly like he doesn’t even realize it - and he doesn’t. He can’t. The only thing running through his saccharine sweet mind being you you you-

“Awww, nothin’ for ya to be worried about, dear–” Those overstimulated pearls of wet tears gathering at your droopy eyes are lazily wafted away by one of Higuruma’s thumbs. “M’a married fuckin’ man- not to my work. To you, my soulmate.”

“B-but–” Your lower lips juts out in a pout that makes his strawberry pink cockhead jolt like he’d been zapped with a million fucking volts of electricity. Mind too intoxicated to really even register what he said - married. “-makes me feel so lonely n’ jealous some ah- nights, baby–”

“My poor angel-” His face nuzzles into your tear-clammed cheeks, and the miniscule bristle of his five-o-clock shadow makes your trembling orifices only wetter. “-my poor, poor angel. Y’know what we can ngh- do?”

Blinking up dazedly, “What?”

“What if I…” And oh, he’s planing over the middle of your tummy, fingers teetering sensual little circles right above where his rummaging fat cock was making such a mess of your goopy insides. ‘-pumped ya alllll f-full right here.“ Just those sweetly tender words in your ear was enough to make your lips part parchedly, as dry as a desert. “N’ gave our little family a-another hah- member…or two.”

It’s as if as soon as the idea is dropped into your needy head, it’s all that you can think about. 

“Wan– ah-” You’re mewling, “Want it- want it so bad. I-inside please–”

Plummeting your hips in an even sloppier slew of grinds against Higuruma’s, it’s no surprise that his sculptured skin where your ass is meeting and smacking into his is angry and red. But he doesn’t mind-

Fuck, in fact, it makes Higuruma even fucking harder. Every ounce of hot blood in his body bloating up to balloon his swollen crownhead even puffier, and he’s skimming over the sensory pads of his digits over and over your womb to feel for that nudge- that little probe of his ruthless shaft into your depths.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He can’t help but snicker in an uncharacteristically sleazy way at just how eagerly you’re nodding, “‘Course it does- my- ngh! good girl takes it all, doesn’t she?” He’s so filthy with his mouth, driving you closer and closer to the edge, even more so when he’s finally uttering. “N’ m’gonna give my all because m’yours, angel. All yours.”

He was fucking you all the way through your high like he meant it - and was driving the very message into both your gummy cunt and your stupefied mind. 

Over and over in such salacious grounds of his bulky cylindrical shaft swirling into your pudgy cervix. Kissing you hello and goodbye each n’ every time until he can’t hold it in-

Can’t stop. Can’t even falter when the arm manhandling you flatly onto your front sags with the weight of his entirely powerful body. Hunching over with a low groan, Higuruma’s filling you up to the very brim. Even past that with the utter viscous volume of seed treacling past your puckered slit. 

It’s so soppingly soaked that you’re feeling your thighs slip and slide past each other with every squeeze, lathered in a sugary frosting of his cum. Packed and plugged safely inside your goopy depths.

Higuruma can’t help but let his heart twist with utter pride at the way he could feel the matted masses cream and knot around his throbbing shaft inside of you. Ready to keep you locked up in here as long as possible for it to take. 

Overtime be damned, he was on a mission to prove that he’s devoted - that he’s yours.

Which is what finds him sneakily tugging open the second drawer on his desk while you busy yourself trying to catch desperate breaths. To steady yourself. To fucking open your eyes after this thorough ruination of your insides - only to see something big, and glinting on your left ring finger. 

A big, expensive diamond in exactly the design you’d off-handedly mentioned liking years and years ago.

Your mouth drops, and Higuruma’s crooks into a simpering smile. “If that didn’t prove m’all yours- maybe this will, my wife.”

A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG SIS-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[etherealmelodys]

Kang Dae-Ho

NSFW ALPHABET

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Have yall seen how this man acted in the show? He’d definitely be a master at aftercare. Thanking you for allowing yourself to be at your most vulnerable with him, making sure you’re not in any pain, hot bath, whatever you wanted this man would do it for you asap. And trust when he’s done making sure you’re okay? Immediate cuddles and praise.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part on you and themselves)

I feel like for Dae-Ho, his arms or hands would be his favorite body part. The arms he uses to cradle you in your most intimate and vulnerable moments, keeping you safe at all times. His hands are so much bigger than yours as well, always making you feel so so good. For his partner, I don’t think he’d have a specific body part he likes about you more than the others. Everything about you is perfect, so why should he have to choose one thing?

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He’s definitely a big fan of cumming inside you. He sees it as a way to be more intimate and closer to you. If you’re not a fan of that, he’s always down to cum on your stomach and thighs. The way the milky substance coats your abdomen and thighs really gets him going.

D - Dirty Secret ( Self-explanatory)

He’s really into you taking the more dominant role in the bed room. It’s not that he himself doesn’t like to, but the thought of you bossing him around and using him for your pleasure really gets him hard.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

I think he’s relatively experienced, not as experienced as someone like Thanos, but he knows what he has to do to get you to cum as much as he’d like.

F - Favorite Position (What positions do they like the most?)

He’s definitely the type to love any position that gives him a good view of all of you, and welcomes as much eye contact as he can get. The best for these would be missionary, rocking horse, or the happy scissor.

G - Goofy (How serious are they in the moment? Do they tease you?)

Dae-Ho would try to be as serious as possible during the act. He sees it as one of the most intimate acts you can have with another person, and he wouldn’t want you to think he doesn’t take it seriously, or you serious. Now if his partner is more playful during the act? He’s all for it.

H - Hair (What’s the hair situation down there)

This might be me being bias, but I think he has quite a bit of hair down there. Now it’s not a jungle mind you, but he just doesn’t feel the need to go bald when nobody’s complained about it before. For his partner he does not care at all. You could be as bald as a Siamese or as hairy as a rainforest, he still gon eat!

I - intimacy (How romantic are they in the moment?)

I feel like regardless of his mood, he’s always going to bring that romantic energy. Whispering praises in your ear while he slowly thrusts up into you, holding you so close to him to the point you can feel each other’s heart beats.

J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)

If he’s with somebody, he definitely jacks off more than he would if he was single. Just the thought of you gets him so hard and whiny, he never feels the need to jerk off to porn or anything like that when he has you.

K - Kinks (What are their kinks?)

He definitely doesn’t have any crazy kinks, he’s pretty vanilla. Praise, overstimulation, and hair pulling, while be it lightly, are his major ones, he’s not a fan of anything that could harm you in any aspect.

L - Location (Where do they prefer to have sex?)

He’s not into anywhere public, he’s too nervous about potentially getting caught, most importantly anyone seeing you that vulnerable. The bedroom is where he’s the most comfortable at, but anywhere ranging the shower or couch is fair game too.

M - Motivation (What turns them on?)

Just seeing you in general gets him going. Whether you just got off of work, sweaty and exhausted from the days events, or if you just woke up in the morning, bed head and all groggy. He thinks you look sexy no matter what state you’re in.

N - No (What are some things they’ll never do?)

He would never do anything to intentionally hurt or degrade you. Being raised with sisters really instilled his respect for women. Degrading, choking, anything similar to that is out of the question.

O - Oral (How do they feel about oral? Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

He definitely prefers giving to receiving. While he loves the sight of you on your knees gagging on his dick, what he loves even more is the sight of your arched back and fucked out face as he licks and sucks at your clit for hours. He’s definitely a service top, putting your pleasure above his own.

P - Pace (How fast/slow are they?)

He definitely prefers a slow and sensual pace compared to a faster one. He just loves the face you make, one of pure bliss feeling him slowly fill you up and pull himself back out again, the way you look at him as if he hung the stars in the sky, and the way you thank him for making you feel so good.

Q - Quickie (How do they feel about quickies?)

He’s not the biggest fan of quickies, he prefers to take his time with you and wants to make sure you feel good to the fullest potential. But if you’re desperate and beg him for it? Who is he to deny you.

R - Risk (How willing are they to experiment? Do they take any risks?)

Like I said before, he’s not a big fan of taking risks, or anything that might get you caught. He is however game to experiment in the bed room, but he’ll never initiate it himself, you’ll have to do that.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they do? How long can they go for?)

Due to him being an ex-marine, I think his stamina would be extremely good, at least above average. Expect him to do at most 2-3 rounds before he starts to get tired. But before he does, it’s always his top priority to make you cum as many times as you can handle.

T - Toys (Do they have any toys? Are they willing to use any?)

I don’t think he has any of his own toys, but he’d always be down to experiment with the ones you have. He wouldn’t go out of his way to purchase any, especially for himself seeing that he has you already, so what’s the point?

U - Unfair (Do they tease you? How unfair are they in the bedroom?)

Just a tad bit, he loves you too much to do it excessively, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do it at all. Just when you guys are in a more playful mood does he really get into the role of teasing.

V - Volume (How loud are they?)

He’s fairly loud, he doesn’t do a lot of grunting, mainly whining and moaning. He’s always encouraging you to be as loud as you want as well, telling you the sounds you make are so pretty, telling you how it makes him wanna fuck you for even longer just to hear more of you.

W - Weird Fact (Self-explanatory)

He’d definitely want to try pegging, just once to see if he really is into it. But only with a partner he’s been with for quite a while.

X - X Ray (What’s it looking like in those pants.)

Dae-Ho is around 5’11-6’0 tall, and he’s quite beefy. He’s definitely above average, but he’s not huge. I’d say he’s around 6.5 inches, considering the average size in Korea is 5.3 inches. His tip is definitely a reddish pink color, about #EE9B9D, with a slight curve to the left. He had a few veins running along his shaft, noticeably a thicker one on the underside of it.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive? How often do they have sex?)

He doesn’t have a super high drive, it’s about average, about every other day. He’d prefer doing other intimate acts with you, such as cuddling, watching a movie together, or just being around you in general in a non-sexual context

Z - Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)

He usually falls asleep after a little bit of pillow talk, and of course making sure you’re comfortable and content with his performance in bed. He’d only be able to rest after making sure you’re fulfilled

(Thank you guys sm for waiting on this, I lwk fell asleep due to being sick half way through but I pulled through! This will be my first fic on this app so enjoy😼)

[cthulum]

These movies exist! I beg of everyone complaining about mainstream movies not being weird or subversive enough : watch other movies.

Go at the theater and get a ticket for that movir you haven’t seen any trailer for. Open whatever streaming service you use, legal or not, and click on the movie with a pretty poster you’ve never heard about. Go to your local library and borrow something the workers there recommend. Watch movies from other countries, watch movies from other decades.

Get on YouTube and watch short movies! They’re often just as good! And usually go way weirder!

You might not like it. Weird things are not made for everyone- a movie made for ‘everyone’ feature eighteen celebrities in the cast. But you might just find your very own flavour of weird in there.

[silverspek]

After Game ‘Meditation’ 𝜗𝜚

Pretty boys who lay their head in your lap pathetically with no shame, pretty boys who apologize as they’re fucking into you, pretty boys that need you to praise them >>>

warnings … nsfw, f!reader, praise kink, oral (r), pull-out method, dom!reader + switch!rin, penetrative unprotected vaginal sex, oralking!rin, established relationship, nicknames, he’s mean but nice <3

Sex with Rin is truly best after he loses a game. You would never tell him this of course, fully aware of his deep rooted pride that is the source of his ego. He’s the best and he doesn’t need you to tell him that … until he does, till it’s just you and him behind a closed door.

Emotions simmer beneath his fluttery teal eyes; anger, frustration, and disappointment readable as his brows furrow and knit together. It makes your skin crawl knowing you can see it reflected so clearly despite him trying to cover his face with his hair, rare is it to see him so vulnerable. “Rin baby, talk to me about it,” you attempt to coax his woe from him.

Your fingers tread in his silky tapered hair as he lays his head expectantly in your lap, seeking comfort. Although he’s much bigger than you are, you don’t mind succumbing to his needs.

Rin Itoshi needingly swaddles his face between your lush thighs whilst he works on his ‘after game meditation’, “hmm…” he merely groans in petulance. Not just yet ready to process his feelings of utter failure. Due to his pride, he stiffens from unnecessary blame that your sweet hands inevitably massage him free of.

Fine. You roll your eyes teasingly. His grip on your thighs and ass tighten as he sighs, his fingertips digging into your meaty flesh while he exhales. Despite this soft and weak side of him, you’re reminded of his restrained strength in these moments. “I watched your game y’know”, you watch all of them, “I couldn’t take my eyes off you Rinnie,” no one else commands attention quite like he does on the field. His ridiculously over complicated method of playing soccer.

“That game was lukewarm, no, room temperature at best actually.” It comes out as mumbles though, his lips and cheek pressed into your warm and supple skin.

You swipe Rin’s dark bangs away from his eyes, tucking his hair lightly behind his ear. This reveals his dramatized lashes and softening features at your sweet words. Rin Itoshi certifiably has a kink for praise, “you’re a star, my star,” you say watching his ears perk up and turn red in response. He’s unbelievably receptive, even the tops of his shoulders flush at your flattery.

It’s like you’ve breathed new life into him, “come here and show me how good you are, Rin.” Pathetic and oh so eager to please as he wraps his toned arms around your waist in an embrace. You’re drawn closer to him, deeper into his emotional turmoil hidden beneath a veneer of insouciance. It’s addicting, just like him.

Rin isn’t always the most vocal at first, but don’t mistake his shyness for a lack of passion though; he’s a gentle lover at heart. He desires you in ways that he can’t verbalize — therefore he’ll let his mouth do the hard work — devoted to your satisfaction.

He begins to kiss down the skin of your stomach, still stationed on his knees before you. “Don't tell me what to do,” gloomy but insolent as ever while he plants wet kisses against your skin. You giggle knowing he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but the haven between your thighs, and you gasp when he starts to spread your legs apart slowly.

There’s drool practically dripping down his chin at the thought of getting to devour you and being rewarded for it with your little whines and heavenly moans. The laser focus he has vanishes into insatiable defiant lust when he removes your shorts and finds how wet you are, a string of slick connects you to your underwear. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, no sly or slick comeback when he’s in the mood.

You should be ashamed as to how turned on by him you are, he’s downtrodden and beaten by his loss, but you swear you’re conditioned by how well he treats your cunny when he’s like this.

Your back instinctively arches your pelvis further into his firm grip as he licks languid stripes on your slit, you watch him tentatively from between the valley of your breasts on the edge of your seat. “Feels good handsome, keep going,” he loves your small quips of encouragement, it fills him with the need to please you more.

You can feel his hot breath on your pussy as he eats you out, swiping his wet muscle against your lower lips and licking the spit off his chin. It's depraved, but he looks ethereal covered in a sheer layer of your slick. “You’re so good at this Rin,” you half moan half praise as he starts to suck on your clit, “fuck— keep doing that n’ I’ll cum.”

You’re sure you are throbbing against him, you just know it. It’s embarrassing how quickly he can reduce you down to your desires, but he loves it needs it like this, needs you desperate for him. “Faster, closer,” you greedily demand as your grip in his teal hair tightens. You make eye contact and the hunger is like an electric charge.

He doesn’t let anyone talk to him like this, no one orders Rin Itoshi to do anything. You, however, are all his sweetness. For you he is compliant and tamed.

Rin loves how your thighs helplessly quiver and try to push him away when he grazes your clit with his teeth; he knows what your pretty pussy really wants, it never lies. He’ll answer the ache of your throbbing core with his tongue, letting it slide in and out of your walls as his nose hits your clit over and over. It’s unclear how he can breathe down there but you could care less because the knot in your abdomen has become unbearable as he tongue fucks you.

He winces and pants into your cunny when your nails dig into his sensitive scalp, the sting ignites him with the burn to watch you unravel. Strings of curses and chants of his name leave you in a hurry, your body feeling lighter as you let yourself go for him. The crescendo of his tongue against your clit continues while you whine, “oh..! ah— my god. It’s s’good.” Your head falls back as you grind out the rest of your orgasm on his face to your heart's content.

He is so painfully hard, and even harder feeling you cum against his tongue without the use of his hands. It makes his pride swell when you run your fingers in his hair as he provides tentative kitten licks to your overstimulated bud.

“You’re so good for me honey,” you say after you find your voice. Your arms reach for him down on his knees, needy to feel his skin on yours following your intense climax. You tug his lumbering body on top of yours, caressing the smooth skin of his large biceps.

It may seem like he’s watching you with an expressionless stare but really you light his every nerve ending on fire, setting off hundreds of reactions and inappropriate thoughts with your every move. He shudders feeling your fingertips graze his clavicle. “You like when I touch you like this, right Rin?” He can barely hold himself steady above you when your legs wrap around his torso and your small hands glide down his toned chest. You swear you heard his breath hitch as you outline his abs with your fingers and grind against his hardening cock.

“Mhhm,” he groans as you kiss his neck, pulling him further into you with your thighs. Despite his aloof and unkind demeanor, Rin soaks up any positive attention you give him. A reaction between the needy and the giving.

“There’s that pleased sigh, relax lovie,” you breathe into his ear as your hands explore his bare back. Rin’s balls pulse uncomfortably with every saccharin laced word and every stupid rhyming nickname that leaves your puffy lips. Fuck, he needs you bad, all his sorrow and frustration melted away by your mere praise and attention.

But you’re quicker to act than he is, freeing his long needy dick from his boxers, lining it up with your entrance as you lay back. Somehow you always know exactly what he needs before he even says it, it gets him so hot and bothered to be desired like this. “Give it to me, I want you Rin,” you say pressing his fleshy pink tip to your cunts entrance.

Logic can’t help him, not when your hot, tight, wet body was sprawled out begging to get fucked by him. All thoughts of his loss, teammates, and game leave his mind as soon as your gummy walls gripped his cock.

“You’re squeezing baby, relax,” he reminds you in an even tone while thumbing your clit. Things tend to get tight if he doesn’t finger you, just a byproduct of his impressive length. His instincts tell him to slam into you again and again till he loses sense of himself but you seem to have other plans.

“How can I when your cock feels this good, like it was made for me.” Rin whines at your sultry tone, twitching inside you in an effort to not let your dirty words get the better of him. “Quit,” he warns with a particularly hard thrust that has your teeth chattering.

“I can take it,” you tell him confidently, locking eyes with him in a challenge before you stare at his lips. You’re so avaricious over him it drives him crazy, how could he deny you?

That’s why he’ll drag his hips in and out of your cunt, indenting your body into the mattress below with each thwap of his hips against your bare ass. He’s to shy to admit how fucking good it feels so he’ll bury his face in your chest or neck to suppress his noises.

It feels like all you can do is hang on to him as he holds your waist firmly and his strong hips piston in n’ out of you; drilling your rigid form into the opposingly soft sheets. “So full Rin,” you’re blissed out from the rate at which he slams himself inside you, causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes as your voice begins to slur from pleasure.

He doesn’t mean to, he swears he would never be so rough with your body; but he can’t help it. You’re beautiful, you’re praising him, andddd he’s utterly weak for how creamy your walls feel as he fucks you like a dog.

In his trance like state he apologizes before pushing your knees to your head, spreading you impossibly wider for him so he can feel you that much closer. The intimacy of his need makes you feel warm from the tips of your toes up; you feel yourself threatening to cum.

“Not yet, I’m not done with you.” He says, groaning as he sheaths his length in your walls, base to tip. Every whimper and thrust from him makes you cry out, but he can’t stop. Not when he’s so tantalizingly close to cumming his brains out, so he’ll apologize again and again as he bullies all mean 8 inches where no one else can claim you.

You can’t hold it, releasing all over him in slurs of ‘I love you Rin’ and ‘ah! Don’t stop.’ Seeing you at your highest satisfaction makes his toes curl and with a mere sloppy 3 thrusts, he’s pulling out to cum all over your pussy, admiring how it pools down to your slit. “I’m sorry baby, fuck— ew. Let me clean you up.”

When he returns to you with a wet rag it’s silent as he climbs back into bed. Wiping the mark of his filthy desires from the insides of your legs while you pet his head. “You made me feel .. unbelievable,” you say trying to meet his gaze, not yet done praising him for a job well done.

“I don’t need your pity, shut up and let me clean you.” There’s no bite in his voice, no sarcasm nor malice. Once he’s done he returns to his previous position, laying his head in your lap as you sit in comfortable silence. His thumb rubs appreciative circles in your skin as a way of verbalizing his love for you, it’s only thanks to you that he was able to ground himself.

[twistedpink]

Flirty! Reader x Azul, please??

Flirty!Reader is Azul’s worst enemy. No matter how many potions he takes or how well he blends in on land he’ll always bleed blue, and it takes him all the way back to his time as that little octobabe :( You telling him how pretty he looks embarrassed doesn’t make it any better! He’s a distinguished businessman, not some easy mark to get “picked up”

hngggggggh the tweels having a field day sicking you on the boss. You’re trying to be all smooth for your lucky guy, (he totally buys it) but his eels know the truth! All of you humans are feral, and they’re really into it. Thanks for spicing up the workplace :p (every hr meeting is about you)

Azul Ashengrotto vs Flirty!Reader Tickets on the weekend sale starting now!! It’s a massive struggle to drag Azul around to couple spots, especially if you’re the type to take pictures. He never thinks they’re good enough to post, but he won’t make you delete them either (the Polaroid wall goes harddddd),, He does need a personal social media paper trail to appear approachable though, so he hopes you don’t mind all the cameos you’ll have- he has fits of being very conscious of cyber security though, so the most you’ll be featured as is a tasteful hand pic (soft launch final boss)

ughhhhhhhhh making Azul trip up on a sales pitch because you’re just so good at what you do <33 leaning into him when he’s not expecting it and whispering something stupid in his ear to feel him deflate lol “the complaint box is full, my love” SHUT UP AND KISSEM’. He can’t take it anymore :(.

God he loves you- and he wouldn’t ever consider sharing you,, But there’s something about that glint in your eye when you lure in some poor soul. He wonders if you looked at him the same way in the beginning, but it’s no worry now that you’re in his back pocket >:) (fibber)! Never leave him pleaseeeeeeeee think of the promos <33:

[freeuselandonorris]

16 (+18?) for max f/lando/oscar? same anon who was talking about hypno earlier, so. i would love some hypno in there, but no pressure!

cheating slightly and smashing together four similar prompts because i got nearly 40 requests lmao

so here for your enjoyment is a brief return to hypnoverse, in which max and lando invite oscar to use lando in his hypno bimbo state 💕

ngl i missed this ‘verse so i might potentially turn this into a proper sequel at some point We Will See

cw for hypno but it's all very consensual!

“Right, Bob,” Max says. He’s got good at sounding confident now, he thinks. Like he knows what he’s doing. Someone in charge. “You sure about this?”

Lando nods. Turns to look at Oscar.

Oscar’s looking a little like he’s secretly freaking out and trying not to show it, too. His eyes are very bright when he nods. Max tries not to feel too gratified by the way Oscar looks at him for direction. 

“Okay,” Max says, and claps his hands, wincing when he clocks Lando’s smirk. As if Lando doesn’t spend half his life performing to an invisible camera. “Oscar, mate, I’ve got the list of trigger phrases on my phone if you need a reminder.”

Oscar shakes his head. “I can remember them.”

“All right,” Max says, and looks at Lando, who’s pulled the sleeves of his pink hoodie over his hands, fidgeting. “Babygirl sleep.”

He’d been a bit worried that Lando might not respond to the triggers with someone else there. That he’d get self-conscious, or distracted, and Max would be left standing there like a tit, a magician dropping the deck of cards halfway through a trick. 

But Lando blinks, and his face slackens into a soft, dopey smile. Max breathes a sigh of relief. “Good girl,” he says quickly, and Lando sways on the spot as the trance deepens. Max doesn’t usually use two commands in quick succession like that; he wonders how it feels for Lando, who’s smiling in an unfocused way at a spot on the floor a few feet away, hands limp at his sides. 

Max’s cock stirs. He looks at Oscar. Oscar’s looking pretty hypnotised himself, staring at Lando with his lips slightly parted. 

“Go on, then,” Max says lightly. “He’s ready. You can do what you want with him.”

Oscar sucks in a breath, steps closer. He’s still staring at Lando with open fascination. When he reaches out and touches Lando’s face, Max’s gut twists pleasantly. He’d worried that he might be jealous, but all he feels is pride, like a kid in the playground showing off their shiniest toy. 

Oscar pushes two fingers into Lando’s mouth, and Lando closes his eyes and sucks blissfully. 

“Is he,” Oscar starts, and then clears his throat when his voice comes out in a croak. “Is he wearing the – what you said?”

“The cage?” Max says, just to watch the blush spread across Oscar’s face. God, it’s good, being the one in the know. His cock is so hard, and it’s not just from seeing Lando like this. “Yeah, ‘course. He wears it most of the time now, when we’re doing this. Helps him remember what he’s good for, doesn’t it, pal?” 

He addresses the last remark to Lando, who makes an indistinct sound in the back of his throat. Max smiles, raises his eyebrows at Oscar like they’re sharing a joke. What a slut, am I right?

“Babygirl strip,” Max says, and Lando moves to obey immediately, yanking his hoodie over his head. He’s told Max he doesn’t really need the uniform anymore, not now he’s so well trained, but Max likes it. “Slowly,” he says chidingly, when Lando grabs eagerly at the hem of his t-shirt. “Show yourself off for Oscar, come on.”

Oscar just about chokes at that, and Max can’t resist getting a hand on himself as Lando immediately course-corrects, turning to Oscar and pulling his t-shirt over his head teasingly slowly. Once it's off, he brushes over his nipples with the tips of his fingers, all wet mouth and lidded, blank eyes. 

He’s not wearing underwear under his jeans, and Oscar groans audibly when he sees the bubblegum pink of the cage around Lando’s soft cock. Lando doesn’t react, just carries on undressing himself, balancing carefully on one foot to peel his jeans off entirely. 

“No,” Oscar says suddenly, when Lando goes for his socks. “Leave them.” They’re white, pulled up to his calves, accentuating Lando’s smooth tanned skin. They do look good; Oscar’s got taste. 

“Good girl,” Max says, watching the pleased little shiver that ripples through Lando’s bared body. “Oscar thinks you look good. Show him the rest.” 

Without hesitation, Lando turns and steps his feet apart, bending down and spreading himself open so Oscar can see the pink furl of his asshole, waxed and still shiny with lube where he’s been wearing a plug all morning. 

“Oh my God,” Oscar says under his breath. 

Max’s own head is spinning, watching the two of them like this. He adjusts himself again. “Told you, mate.”

He hadn’t, not really. He’d texted back and forth with Oscar about it a bit – Lando hadn’t wanted to take part in the planning, save for messaging Oscar to confirm it wasn’t all some sort of elaborate prank for a particularly x-rated Quadrant video or whatever – but Max hadn’t really given him the full picture. How could he?

So he can forgive Oscar for looking a bit blindsided, now. He’s licking his lips, that unconscious tic Max has seen on the telly a thousand times over, rendered faintly sleazy now given Lando’s still stood in front of him with his legs spread and his arse on display. 

“I want–” Oscar says, trailing off awkwardly. “His mouth?”

He tips it up into a question at the end. Max gestures to Lando, still waiting patiently, giving no indication he can hear their discussion. “You’ll have to tell him, not me. He’ll stand there for hours otherwise. You remember the trigger phrase?” 

“God,” Oscar mutters again, like he really can’t believe what’s happening. He clears his throat. When he speaks, his voice is wobbly with nerves. “Lando. Erm – drop for cock.”

He stutters a bit as he says it. Instantly, with perfect grace, Lando turns to face him and drops to his knees. Eyes closed, mouth hanging open, tongue resting invitingly against his bottom lip. He waits like that, perfectly still, as Oscar fumbles his jeans open, more flustered than Max has ever seen him, and feeds his cock into Lando’s mouth. 

It’s hot, watching them, but more than that, Max feels proud. Lando’s sucking Oscar’s cock like he was made for it, nose brushing the trimmed hair on his lower belly, hands resting neatly on his thighs. Oscar’s staring down at him like he’s trying to commit the sight to memory, face flushed hectic red and his chest heaving. Lando’s making noises in the back of his throat as he sucks, eager little moans tucked in among the wet sounds of his mouth. He gags occasionally – Oscar’s not longer than Max, but he is thicker, and Lando's mouth is stretched wide around him – but he doesn’t stop the smooth movement of his head. He’s drooling, tears starting to trickle down his cheeks from the force of Oscar’s cock hitting the back of his throat.

“Careful,” Oscar gasps, hands hovering over Lando’s head as if he’s not sure whether to push him away and let him catch his breath.

“Leave him,” Max says sharply, and Oscar jumps like he’d forgotten Max was even there. “He’s fine.” 

He’ll be hoarse in all of his interviews tomorrow, but that’s all right. Something for Max to get himself off to in his hotel suite when he watches the press conference.

Oscar’s hands move to Lando’s hair, and for a moment Max thinks he’s going to pull Lando away anyway, but he doesn’t. Cradling Lando’s skull, he moves Lando’s head, adjusting the rhythm to something slower and deeper but no less difficult for Lando to take.

Max shoves his hand inside his joggers and watches, barely breathing, as Oscar slowly fucks Lando's mouth. Slow like he's savouring it, slow like he's worried he might never get to see Lando like this again.

Oscar doesn’t give much warning when he comes. His movements get a little faster, a little sloppier, the filthy sounds of Lando’s spit-slick mouth getting correspondingly louder. Otherwise, Max only realises Oscar's coming when his movements jerk to a sudden taut halt. Oscar buckles over as he holds Lando in place. He doesn’t moan or swear or anytthing, just exhales in sharp staccato gasps, fingers rubbing convulsively through Lando’s hair. 

It takes him a minute to straighten up again, carefully unwinding himself from Lando and easing him back with the hand still buried in his damp curls. Lando’s eyes stay closed, his mouth and chin wet with saliva and whatever remnants of Oscar’s come he hadn’t managed to swallow down. Even now, it’s still intoxicating for Max to see him like this, barely cognisant of what a mess he’s in. Even more so to see how much Oscar's enjoying it.

Oscar lets out a shuddering breath, tucking himself back into his boxers with one hand. He’s still petting absently at Lando’s hair, and Max thinks it’s sweet for a moment, until Oscar looks up at him, eyes narrowed in thought.

“Will he stay like this until we tell him to stop?” he says, giving Lando’s head a gentle shake.

Lando goes with the motion easily. Eyes still closed, mouth still open. His nipples are drawn up tight and peaked, betraying his unconscious pleasure even though the pink cage nestled between his thighs stops any kind of physical arousal.

“Yeah,” Max says, and takes his sticky hand out of his boxers. “For another hour or so, at least."

Oscar uses the hand he’s got in Lando’s hair to tip his head up, angled towards Max. He beckons with the other hand, and Max realises that he’s going to keep hold of Lando as he sucks Max’s cock, a pliant little puppet. Controlled by Oscar, for Max's pleasure.

“Well, then,” Oscar says, and smiles, flushed with fresh bravado. “Your turn.”

[earlgreylatte]

The Not So Little Things

Hal Jordan: Despite his general disdain to authority, he gets off to being the one in control. Definitely has a daddy kink, and even if you refuse to call him that, he’ll just refer to himself as such when he’s slamming into you, cooing at you for being so good for him and to just let daddy do all the work. And while he likes brat taming, nothing makes his heart go as gooey when you look so happy to take what he gives you, looking up at him with adoring eyes that eventually tear up from the sheer overstimulation of him not relenting until you’re shaking and barely able to speak.

Barry Allen: Somehow so unaware that he has a monster dick, due to his own inexperience and not being a big fan of casual flings. But he’s a quick learner, observant of your reactions and always willing to try new things. Grows confident pretty quick after the first two times he has you dumb from his cock. Definitely gets into some mild temperature play, already running hot from his powers but he still likes to slightly raise his temperature when inside you. Also great at massages. While hesitant at first, the longer you’re together, the more willing he is to utilize his speed against you.

Booster Gold: Coming from the 25th century where genetic modification and designer babies are the norm, he’s so entranced by every mole, beauty mark, and stretch mark. They’re like nothing he’s ever seen before, there’s just something so entrancing about each line, that has him carefully tracing his finger against your skin before eventually enveloping it with his mouth, licking, sucking and kissing every inch of you, showering you with praise for being so beautiful and perfect. He loves how he can just touch the proof of the life you’ve lived thus far. Won’t stop starting at your face if you have beauty marks there and definitely looks up the meaning of each placement on the internet.

Ted Kord: Worship the insecurity out of him. There’s so much firm muscle beneath his plushness, he’s a former gymnast after all, and even in his retirement, he’s still so unbelievably attractive when he puts on his old suit even while complaining that it doesn’t fit well anymore. He has to be blind to how good his ass and thighs look in spandex. He’s crazy for even suggesting he needs to diet, he’s literally perfect. So kiss and play with every inch of him, before taking his length in your mouth. So attractive when he just relaxes against you, mouth slack open as he lets out the prettiest noises. Teddy, the man you are.

Bruce Wayne: Use him however you want. Give him nothing in return, and he’ll still stare at you with that gushy look in his eyes. He’s more than willing to spend the whole night, or morning if he’s returning from patrol, with his head between your legs, ignoring his obvious need. Leave him wanting until just a stroke and squeeze is all it takes to have his eyes rolling back as he comes with a low groan. If you let him, he’s more than willing to leave you bedridden for a day or two. The duality of men.

I feel like booster with how much I pine for Ted. Also!! My team red post isn’t searching up in the search bar, damn you Tumblr…

Masterlist

Edit: why is professor zoom so ugly when booster is like the pinnacle of meeting the beauty standard

[demonic0angel]

DcxDp

Danny, after some encouragement (read nagging) from Jazz, decides to find a way to vent his trauma without it leading back to him. He's a bit hesitant about therapy due to Spectra, and there's only so much Jazz can do, especially since she's often busy with her classes over at Gotham University. So Danny decides to write a book under the pen name Danny Nightingale. The book quickly becomes a series of three so far called The Lab Accident Chronicles. He makes them about a boy named Neil who gets super powers in a generic lab accident and goes around fighting other super humans. The second book is about coping the trauma the ultimate enemy caused with changes, like Dan being Neil's superpowered older brother named Felix, Dani being a younger sister named Katey in the icu as a stand in for her destabilizing. There's also the older sister character based on Jazz named Amy. The third book is about coping with the trauma of the GIW vivisecting Danny with the stand in being an agency called The Anti Meta Foundation. The books become best sellers in a bunch of different cities, and the Justice League immediately can tell these books are trauma vents and are concerned.

Superman frowned at the books. “Is there a reason you believe that this is… real?”

Batman growled, “The level of detail within the novels are too… they’re too realistic. Something like this can only be written as a first hand account with personal experience.”

Green Lantern lifted the book with his ring, flipping through it rapidly. “I’m not too sure about this, Spooks. How are we sure that it’s just not someone with a good imagination? I mean, some of the things that happen in this novel are pretty… out of there. Like some sort of inter dimensional being capturing an entire town and being defeated by a teenager? His genocidal future self from another timeline coming to this world to kill him? Said teen also having a romance with almost all of the girls in his high school? Not that he described a lot but still…”

Batman pinched his nose. The first time Green Lantern actually read all of his needed materials and it was this…

Wonder Woman coughed and said, “Well, I believe you, Batman. If you think that there is a connection we can look into, it is no problem for us to give a quick check.”

Batman bowed his head to her. “Thank you.”

Superman nodded and said, “I agree. I trust you, Batman. So… where do we start?”

Batman flipped one of the books over and pointed to the name written under the drawing of a green, swirling portal. “Here. I say we start with the author. Daniel J. Nightingale.”

[niniwritesxo]

nsfw alphabet - nam-gyu (player 124)

(it contains things like degrading, threesomes, and nam-gyu being an asshole tbh, if you aren’t into that i wouldn’t read this x)

saw this on @cybrasigilism ‘s page, you should really check that out ! (love their writing btw)

——————————————————————————

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- sorry to burst your bubble but his aftercare is probably none existent, he might hand you the tv remote afterwards but that’s about it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- 100% his hands, obviously he had to add some rings, because he knows girls like you will go crazy over it. favorite part about you is most likely your boobs or your ass (basic am i right?)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he for sure has a breeding kink (who said that haha)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- a dirty secret about namgyu is the fact he would to have a trio with thanos and you, the thought of seeing thanos fucking you turns him on more than he would like to admit.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they��re doing?)

- i think he has had a lot of one night stands, so he knows what he is doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- he loves when you are on top of him, that way he can look at your body all he wants, the way your boobs bounce when he is thrusting into you, how you are so out of breath after a few rounds, he loves it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- i don’t think he is very humorous in bed, he doesn’t even think about making a joke in the moment because he is so focused.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- i don’t think he has a insane bush, but lets just say he isn’t perfectly trimmed either.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- he sees you as a fuckbuddy, good for fucking. he isn’t looking for a relationship so he probably isn’t that romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- he looks up your (or your friends insta) and jerks off to your photos.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- i feel like he would love tying you up, seeing how you aren’t able to move while he gets to do whatever he wants. (and knife play ..anyways!)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- definitely in places where you COULD get caught like, fittings rooms & public restrooms.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- praise 1000%

‘Bet you’ve never been fucked like this huh?’ he says out of breath grabbing your chin, at this point it’s almost impossible for you to talk, it’s like he fucked your brains out. You decide to nod.

‘Fucking speak up’ he says glaring at you.

‘n-namgyu please, i need y-you please’ you manage to puff out.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- anal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- he loves receiving especially when you suck him off. but he is also a munch, he loves going down on you. he could do it for hours.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- he is very rough and fast, it’s almost like hate fucking, nothing sensual about it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- he loves quickies, especially in the games he would find places where he could quickly release his stress onto you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- i think he has tried a lot already but will try all sorts of stuff on you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- depends if he is under the influence of something, if he’s taken something? he could go on for hours on end. if he is sober he’ll probably pass out after a good 40 minutes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- he doesn’t own or use toys, he feels like his hand are good enough to keep you satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- he is such a tease, you definitely need to wait before you can cum and he’ll make sure you beg for it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- i don’t think he moans, he is more like a grunts guy. i feel like he talks a lot tho. (cursing and degrading you obvi)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- it kinda turns him on when you try to be bossy for once, telling him what to do and what he isn’t aloud to do.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- he has a average body, leaning more towards a dad bod than a jacked up guy tho.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- his sex drive is hiiigh, he always feels horny and is always in for a quickie.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- give him ten minutes and he is gone.

english isn’t my first language so if i made any mistakes, i apologize x

[saioratral]

PARING: yuuta okkotsu x f!reader

PROMPT: stories- not a reality SYNOPSIS: giving my readers a reality check of who they are following

WARNING: insecurities and the biggest warning, me NOTE: i make a pretty good plot, netflix should be knocking on my door. wrote this to fuel my favourite emotion: depression <33 genuinely dont give two fucks if anyone reads this. i dont need comfort messages/asks or the 'don't say that about yourself ☹️' bullshit- im not asking for that + it's not gonna change how i see myself

the room didn’t even feel like a room to anyone who stepped inside. clothes messily placed on her chair, but she didn’t mind. her gaze was locked on the computer screen, her fingers moving across the keyboard as though they knew the layout better than her textbooks

she typed again, her imaginary life with yuuta. the little cottage by the river, ducks swimming by- according to her notes. her fictional self is her favourite self. she loves writing about her muse, yuuta being her escape from her heavy thoughts 

but behind the screen, she was just a mess. she covers her insecurities with flattering words. how could she be pretty when the world only saw the mess of her real self? her online persona was a carefully constructed lie, a shield to keep others from seeing the truth. after all, why should she look ugly to them? she didn’t want to scare anyone away

little miss perfect, pretending to be smart for others. that’s all she’s good at anyways, people would remember her at least, use her and not discard her when they got bored. "grow a spine," they told her every day. but she didn’t. she carried no opinions, just a deep need to fit in

what she wanted, more than anything, was to be loved. to have friends, to be someone’s favorite girl, like the main character of a shoujo anime

she imagines herself in yuuta's arms, feeling his comfort, his imaginary embrace making her feel wanted. together, they watch the sunset from the window, the soft glow of the fading light making life seem perfect. next, they’re in the kitchen, she sits on the counter while yuuta mixes batter for her favorite cake. he let her taste it, but only if she kissed him in return

the scene shifts. now, they were in a fancy, high rise building for dinner. she’s wearing a pink dress, hair tied up with a matching ribbon. she’s so pretty in his eyes, the candle light dinner gets better and better and soon they are on their way home. yuuta’s jacket draped over her shoulders as they walked beneath the streetlights, stumbling upon an empty playground

she sits on the swings, pushing herself back and forth, a wide grin on her face. yuuta sits on the swing beside her, holding her heels in his hand as he watches her joy. he really does love her smile, she looks so beautiful in his heart eyes- of course she would be. she’s the writer. it was her world. she decides what happened next

call her a pick me, call her lazy, call her ungrateful, call her selfish, call her ugly, call her boring, call her cringe, make fun of her taste- she’s just a girl sitting in her room, writing silly fics about her yuuta for a mere 2 digit following of strangers 

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

extremely unpopular ship but. marc/luca with 24 + 21

marc/luca: 21 (biting) + 24 (dacryphilia)

Luca braces for it like he braces for hitting the ground after being highsided off his bike. Marc saying you’re nothing like Valentino or you’re just like Valentino. Or—God fucking forbid—being sorry about how shit the Honda is. Poor boy, wasting his career on a comeback that won’t deliver.

He never does. Which is half the reason that they’re doing this, in the first place.

It’s not an accident, is the thing. Luca enjoys making mistakes with his eyes wide open.

He grinds up into Marc, dirty, slow sweeps, right against his prostate. The wet squelch of lube echoes gunshot loud between them, accusatory—as does Marc’s breathless little gasp. Luca keeps at it, again, again, again, so he’ll get another one of those noises, but Marc only throws his head back, puts it against his shoulder, miles of smooth, tanned skin in his bobbing throat.

Pretty, Luca thinks, a hysterical little laugh stuck behind his teeth, shaking when he runs a forcibly idle touch over Marc’s waxed, soft thighs.

“More?” He asks, careful.

Marc nods—open-mouthed, greedy—and drags him to hold his cock. Luca’s hands are calloused, bony, dry. Probably doesn’t feel that good, in retrospect. Marc bucks into his grip anyway, fucks into his slightly unsteady fist with abandon, like he’s bending a bad bike to take a tricky corner.

Luca bites into the soft insides of his cheek. Focus.

So he leaves a bite on Marc’s throat next. Mean, deep—it’s right there, after all. Presses down hard on the imprint of his teeth he left on the swell of Marc’s pec, on his nipple, on the knob of his hipbone. They’re growing dark already, a splotchy purple-red on gold, ugly, round lines.

He keens, jolts, legs falling open, hooked over Luca’s skinny knees. It’s like pressing on the keys of a baby grand at random, only to find out everything sounds fantastic. His cock twitches in his hand, leaks. Each slide is wetter and easier than the last.

Christ. Luca sucks in a breath, tucked against the corded muscle of Marc’s neck.

But Marc is allergic to breaks or something like that. Twists his head around and tugs him up by his hair. They’re looking at each other—which should technically be sobering, a cold wash of reality, but only makes Luca ache to press a kiss on the corner of his shiv-quick smile.

In a bit, maybe.

“You really are mean,” he says, winded, in this dangerous, wild delight.

Luca arches an eyebrow, immaculate through the hell press of Marc’s ass around his cock, how it rakes over him like an electric shock. “You asked me to.”

“People don’t usually—ah, shit, see—first fuck is usually a warm-up. Very polite.”

Luca debates for a split second, five lights and off they go, prying the words from the bottom of his throat. I actually get off on making people cry, just like that. Decides against it at Marc’s dark, cutting stare, his open-mouthed, shameless hunger. Too much like feeding a shark.

Makes himself grin, instead. “I’m very polite. You always say that.”

“Asshole,” he says—in Spanish. Putilla, like Luca doesn’t know what it means. And he laughs through it too, this ugly, honking laugh.

It’s not what you call someone doing a favor, sort of. Luca keeps smiling.

Squeezes Marc’s cock hard, drags his nails all the way to his flushed, wet head. Marc chokes on whatever noise he was making, scrambles to scratch him back, at his wrist, legs twitching to cover himself up on instinct.

He lets them fall limp, though. Stares wide-eyed, expectant. Challenging. Luca croons something sweet-sounding, backs off just a little. His grip is too tight, cruel, but more pleasure now, working him over in quick, rough twists of his palm.

Nothing about it is pretty, exactly—except Marc crumbling against him, Luca is at his strings. Except Marc whining, high-pitched and raw, when he shivers and comes with Luca running a nail over his slit and biting down on his nape.

Luca grunts, muffled through Marc tightening up around his cock, through the pound of blood in his ears.

It’s probably the funniest—most absurd—consequence of going to an engineer’s birthday party, he thinks, nerves in overdrive, about to giggle or moan or come, same fucking difference, heart drumming against his ribcage, thoughts hitting every corner.

Marc hisses out a thick noise, holds his arm. There’s no real strength behind it. Luca gets back on with what could be called his meanness, smears Marc’s come over his own dick. Jerks him only a fraction gentler than he was.

He isn’t crying, yet.

Not like he asked to, not like Luca wants to see.

But maybe soon, he thinks, perverse and not caring all that much about it, heat prickling under his skin, spit pooling over his tongue. Luca gives him a light nibble on his earlobe as a reward, more intent than actual pressure.

“More?” Luca breathes out, barely a whisper.

Marc—lashes wet, fluttering, almost there—nods.

[nordax]

burning, yearning need to bleed

baby's first iwtv fic, let's fucking go

armand/daniel, mirror sex, a hand job, biting, a lot of blood and a healthy side of masochism. wc: 4k

ao3

inspired by the gorgeous, incredible, breathtaking art by the lovely @ladyofthecreeddraws

It starts, like it often does, with three simple, little words. I wanna see.

And Daniel is morbidly curious in every aspect of his life, both personal and professional, so it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that he wants to watch Armand sink his fangs into his neck and feed from him. He’s always following so closely, so intensely, as Armand slices his own wrist open with his claws, watches the blood rush to the surface and out of the wound, down along his skin, and into Daniel’s waiting mouth, and Armand attributed that to addiction, or to Daniel’s fascination with tearing things open and seeing how they work, pulling secrets free through clenched teeth. Personally and professionally.

And he whispers those words into Armand’s curls, and he looks at Armand with those pretty eyes, pupils blown wide, high on the vampire’s blood, and begs to see.

Armand offers to bite into Daniel’s wrist so that he may see, or his thigh, and the boy refuses point blank, says it won’t be the same, that it won’t be right. He’s erratic, eyes wild, grabbing two handfuls of Armand’s shirt and pulling him close, impossibly close, clinging to him, hiding his face in the brook of Armand’s neck. Bites at him, with his dull human teeth, for good measure. I need to see. 

--

So, here they are, with Daniel perched on Armand’s lap, his back flush to Armand’s chest, and they’re sitting on an armchair in front of a large, ornate mirror. Daniel had asked if Armand bought it just for this occasion and Armand scoffed, mumbled something about the vastness of his antique collection, and they both know he procured it specifically for this, for Daniel.

Daniel is all nervous energy, amped up from his usual restlessness, fidgeting and squirming in Armand’s lap. They look good, Armand thinks as he watches their reflection. He is still fully clothed, in his blazer and slacks, hair neat and styled, and Daniel is naked, hair still tousled from sleep, from when Armand practically dragged him out of bed for this. Daniel’s legs are on either side of Armand’s, spread open and displaying his soft cock, and it’s a pretty sight, the stark contrast of them like this, and made even prettier by Daniel seeing himself much like Armand sees him, stripped bare and so ready to be told what to do, bathed in the dim golden shine of the bedroom lights.

“Are you going to be good?” Armand asks, lips brushing against the shell of Daniel’s ear. Daniel shivers with it, with excitement and desire and curiosity. Armand resists the urge to touch, keeping his hands still on the armrests, seemingly relaxed, as if unaffected by the sight in the mirror, on his lap, all around him. Daniel knows him well by now, would notice the effort in keeping himself from touching Daniel, if he wasn’t so riled up, so deep in his own head.

“Yes”, Daniel finally says, breathes it out like a promise, emphasizes it by nodding enthusiastically. And usually he’s very good, even without being explicitly asked, and Armand has never been particularly good at denying Daniel anything he wants. This, though? For this, he might need to be taught a lesson in patience first.

“What do you want, beloved?” Armand asks, nosing along Daniel’s hairline behind his ear and down the back of his neck. Daniel tries to arch into it, to turn his head and offer the side of his neck closer to Armand’s mouth, and that’s not how good boys behave, trying to shortcut straight to the reward. Armand dances his fingers up along Daniel’s arm and across his shoulder, up to the base of his neck, brushing his hand through the messy curls and grabbing a handful, pulling down hard. A little too hard, if he’s honest with himself, but the sensation seems to go straight to Daniel’s dick, and he has no way to hide it from Armand here, like this.

“I do believe I asked you a question”, Armand says, and he has Daniel’s head tilted back to an uncomfortable angle, pulled down against his shoulder, throat open and exposed, and yet there are no complaints in the boy’s mind, just the calming static of pain, of Armand.

“I want to see”, Daniel whispers, eyes rolling back in his head as Armand tugs on his hair once more before releasing him. There’s a faint blush on Daniel’s cheeks, spilling down his neck and chest, and his cock is already filling out. Armand watches him study their reflection, tilting his head like it will somehow make a difference in the image in front of him.

“Look at you”, Armand starts, bringing his hands to both sides of Daniel’s neck, holding his head still, thumbs rubbing circles behind his ears. He feels the way the boy’s whole body shivers, how he goes a little breathless and his cock jumps at the thought of Armand’s long, slender fingers wrapping around his throat, squeezing, holding his life in his hands. “So fucking desperate, you’re already hard. Could you cum like this, for me, without ever having your pretty little cock touched?”

Daniel eats up his words like he’s starving, forced to watch their reflection, and his eyes are dark, hungry, darting around until they meet Armand’s. He looks so gorgeous, so ready to be ruined in Armand’s hands, and please, Armand, pleasepleaseplease is echoing in his head.

“Use your words, beloved”, Armand purrs, lips ghosting over Daniel’s ear, sucking at the bottom of his earlobe and Daniel whines, flexes his hands where they’re sitting neatly atop his thighs, and he’s being so good, not touching himself even when that wasn’t specifically asked of him. Maybe there is hope, then, that he will behave well enough for his rewards, and learn this little lesson in patience. A little mean, perhaps, but he knows how Daniel enjoys that, letting Armand unravel him and then put the pieces back together, to carve open his chest over and over again, make himself a home there, nestled between his fourth and fifth ribs, mirroring his heart.

“I want to watch you feed from me”, Daniel says, words coming out slowly, deliberate. Like he knows the weight of them, wants to watch them sink into Armand. His eyes are intense, determined where they meet Armand’s again through the mirror, and he nods, slides his fingers down along Daniel’s throat, finds the point where he usually bites, below his ear, near his jugular vein. Armand presses down with one single claw, lets it dig into the skin but doesn’t break it, and goosebumps spread all around it, like ripples in water after a stone is tossed in. With his other arm, Armand braces the boy against himself, wraps it tightly around him.

“Here?” he asks, circling the spot and Daniel lets out a breathless moan, turns his head to give Armand better access, and Armand slides his hand around to cup his jaw, squeezing until he can feel Daniel’s teeth through the flesh of his cheeks where they dig in, and Daniel moans with it, arching his back and clawing at the arm anchoring him against Armand. “Be good for me, beloved.”

It’s not a suggestion, or a plea. It’s an order.

Or what? Daniel thinks as Armand’s hand finally slips from his jaw, settles back around his throat. His thoughts are so loud, with that lopsided smile and cocked eyebrow, head tilted again, that Armand doesn’t need the mind gift to figure out that the boy is asking, begging for trouble. Or punishment.

“Out loud, please”, Armand reminds him. “I want to hear from you tonight.” Want to witness you fall apart, just for me. Because of me. 

Daniel nods slowly, eyes heavy-lidded and dark with arousal, with lust, and takes a few deep breaths. Armand revels in the feeling of the muscles of his throat working against his palm, the flex of tendons under his hand, the steady stream of blood pumping right underneath his fingertips.

He could tear open the boy’s throat with his claws and play in all of the blood that spills out of him, paint a portrait of him with it, of them, all over the floor and the walls; paint a mural of their past all across the ceiling, and it still wouldn’t be enough, wouldn’t soothe the ache that’s settled somewhere far too deep in his bones. He could pour the blood back in the boy, clean up his wounds and heal them, only to sink his fangs into the boy’s neck to drain him again, and Daniel would thank him, would appreciate that, because he loves the sight of his blood running down the sides of Armand’s mouth and down the column of his throat, and Armand has never been a messy eater, but for Daniel? Anything. Everything.

Sometimes, he thinks, it would be easier to just kill the boy and be done with it. Tear out his still beating heart, his bleeding heart, as if Daniel wouldn’t give it to him willingly, and watch the light drain from his eyes. Watch him down in his own blood, rather than watch him hungrily lick the drops of Armand’s blood from his skin, watch him smile with his teeth stained red and his pupils blown wide, and kiss him and lick the taste of his blood from the boy’s mouth.

And Armand opens his mouth and lets his fangs drop, and Daniel shivers, shakes with it, hands squeezed tightly around the arm that’s tethering him to Armand, to this moment, and his eyes are fixated on Armand in their reflection. On his mouth, on his fangs, and how the tips of them shine in the low light, almost like how sunlight reflects off of water, and the intensity of Daniel’s gaze borders on too much. His thoughts, too, the desperate thrum of need, and the overwhelming idea that Armand looks beautiful like this, that he looks beautiful with his jaw unhinged and fangs out.

“Please”, Daniel says, begs, pleads, fingers digging into Armand’s skin where he’s holding on impossibly tight, and not for the first time, Armand wishes Daniel possessed the strength to bruise him. His touch burns, feels like a brand, and it never stays long enough to settle the itch under his skin. “Armand, I need-”

The words die in Daniel’s throat as he lets Armand tilt his head back and to the side, and then his fangs are scraping against his skin, teasing, tickling. Daniel is practically vibrating in his lap, and somewhere in the back of Armand’s mind, there’s a faint echo of patience, of teaching a lesson, and then he finds the spot he dug his claw into earlier and bites, letting just the tips of his fangs pierce the boy’s skin and he forgets everything except the hitch in Daniel’s breath, the heady scent of arousal hanging heavy in the air, and the sweet taste of blood rushing into his mouth, the tinge of Daniel’s sweat. 

It’s a superficial wound, just a tease, and when he pulls away, Daniel whines.

“How does it feel?” Armand asks, lifting his eyes to meet Daniel’s in the mirror. “Tell me, Daniel.”

And he leans down again, tongue darting out to lick at the little droplets of blood rapidly drying on Daniel’s skin. Daniel arches into the touch and hisses as Armand sucks on the marks on his skin, trying to coax more blood to the surface, but the wound is too shallow, and yet the little noises Daniel makes are far more satisfying than any blood could ever be.

“It stings, a little”, Daniel says finally and takes in a deep breath, all stuttery on the inhale. “Doesn’t hurt though. Tickles.”

Armand hums, and Daniel makes a choked sound somewhere between a moan and a laugh, and then Armand slots his fangs into the wounds again and Daniel’s whole body tenses up. Armand bites down slowly, revels in the way Daniel’s pulse picks up, in the warmth radiating from his body and the twitch of his fingers on his arm, the wetness seeping into his slacks from Daniel’s leaking cock. His fangs sink into the boy’s neck inch by inch, and it’s agonizing and it’s euphoric; the slow sink into Daniel, the warmth flooding into his mouth and trailing down the sides of his mouth, down along Daniel’s skin because he’s still hovering over him instead of biting down fully, and the waver in Daniel’s voice makes his head spin a little.

“Burns, like… Like how they always talk about that hot, white flash of pain in books and movies, yeah? Feels fucking good. And the stretch, fuck, Armand.”

The rest of Daniel’s words turn into a garbled moan as Armand’s mouth finally slots against his skin, and he fits there perfectly, the curve of his lips against Daniel’s neck, and he drives his fangs as deep as they’ll go, and Daniel is panting, cursing and pleading, and Armand sucks hard, fills his mouth with blood and then he has to pull back again, he has to, he needs to see. 

Daniel looks defiled. Mesmerizing. Debauched. Gorgeous.

He’s flushed all over, the blush spilling down his neck and chest, reaching all the way up to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and his lower lip is swollen and red, like he’s been biting on it. There are two less than neat puncture wounds on his neck, and the skin around them is a blotchy red, from Armand’s mouth, and there’s blood trailing down, down along his neck and pooling in the little dip above his collarbone and threatening to spill over. He’s squeezing onto Armand’s arm with his knuckles white, and his cock is beautifully hard and leaking precum between his legs, curved up towards his stomach.

Armand swallows, finally, and meets Daniel’s eyes through the mirror.

“How do you feel, beloved?” he asks, dipping his fingers in the blood pooling on Daniel’s collarbone and sending it pouring down further, over his chest and down his stomach. The wound on his neck is still bleeding, slowly but steadily.

“Good”, Daniel manages, and his eyes keep drifting from Armand’s to his own neck, and he would need to crane his neck and turn his head to see properly, but yet he’s sitting perfectly still, in the position Armand arranged him into. Armand drags his hand down Daniel’s front, smearing the blood as he goes, and somewhere between cupping his pec and circling his navel before settling on the curve where his thigh meets his groin, Daniel stops breathing. He holds his breath as Armand paints the blood across his skin, down to his inner thigh, tracing along where his femoral artery lies under his skin.

“Look at you”, Armand says, hand coming up to wrap around Daniel’s dick, and the noise Daniel makes should be recorded, should be pressed into a vinyl so that he might keep it forever, and listen to it over and over again. “What a gorgeous mess.”

He gives Daniel a few slow strokes, fingers wrapped too loose around him, and the remnants of blood mix into the precum leaking steadily from the head of Daniel’s cock. A sloppy, wet mess that is threatening to ruin one of Armand’s favorite pair of trousers, and he could command Daniel to stand up, to clean up the mess he’s made, to get down on his knees and lick Armand clean, and he would obey happily, but something here feels too precarious, too precious to disturb.

Perhaps the way Daniel can’t seem to catch his breath, how he’s desperately rutting into Armand’s hand and still clinging to the arm Armand has draped around his torso, holding him tightly in place. Or the scent of his blood, trickling down his body, and the sight of them, the shine in Daniel’s eyes in the mirror, the sheen of sweat on his forehead and it’s too much, it’s entirely too much, Daniel’s spread legs and his pretty cock in Armand’s hand, his blood everywhere around them, on them. Too much, and not enough. Never enough.

Daniel whines at the loss as Armand pulls his hand away, and then pries Daniel’s fingers off of his other arm. He places his free hands on Daniel’s hips, and wants to squeeze, to push his claws into the soft flesh and tear him apart, pulling him into pieces.

“Up”, he says instead, and his voice sounds uncertain, hoarse even to his own ears. Daniel scrambles off his lap, knees a little unsteady for a moment. “Towards the mirror.”

And Daniel is good, so good, and he steps closer and closer and Armand follows, eyes never leaving their reflection. There’s something intoxicating about watching himself approach Daniel, a predator stalking up to its willing victim, the sacrificial lamb holding a knife to its own throat.

Armand presses up against Daniel, an arm’s length from the mirror and takes Daniel’s hands in his, places them against the glass. And if there’s a tremor in his hands as he glides them back down along Daniel’s arms before releasing him, neither one of them say anything about it.

“Spread your legs for me, beloved”, he says and Daniel nods, scoots his feet apart until Armand hums in approval. He tears his eyes away from their reflection only to be able to study Daniel. This close, he can see the bruise forming right under the bite mark on Daniel’s neck, and the knowledge of that buzzes pleasantly under his skin. He follows the freckles and marks on Daniel’s skin down along his back to the soft curve of his ass, finds his hands on Daniel’s hips again, pulling him closer, impossibly close. 

He nuzzles along Daniel’s hairline at his neck, behind his ear, licks at his skin to taste his sweat and trails down, down, down to the wound. It’s no longer bleeding but it’s still open, raw and red and abused, and there’s never been much self-restraint for Armand when it concerns Daniel.

Please, Armand. I need it, do it.

Daniel looks pained, almost, as he silently begs for Armand and his brow is furrowed in a way that always spells out trouble in one form or another, and he’s biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood, and maybe that’s what he’s aiming for, maybe that’s what he needs.

“Out loud, please”, Armand whispers, lips ghosting against Daniel’s skin, and there’s a pause, and a flicker of something in Daniel’s eyes Armand can’t quite figure out before he swallows and takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut.

“Armand. Bite me.”

And maybe he meant it as a slight, meant to have some bite to it, but it comes out more like a prayer.

“Look at me, beloved.”

Daniel’s eyes open just in time to see Armand’s fangs sink into his skin again, slow and intentional, letting blood rush to the surface and spill down Daniel’s neck before his mouth closes over the wound and he settles there, pressing his body against Daniel’s, one hand still in a bruising grip on his hip while he wraps the other one around Daniel’s dick, squeezing hard at the base. Daniel’s body is hot against Armand, and he can feel the warmth even through his clothes, and Daniel whines and begs, sweaty hands slipping on the glass of the mirror but he keeps his position, keeps his eyes open, keeps watching Armand feed from him.

How does it feel? Tell me. 

Silence follows, and it takes a moment, an eternity for Daniel to get his mouth working, and Armand keeps his fangs embedded in Daniel’s neck. It’s inefficient, and there’s a dull ache in the joint of his jaw, but the pleasure radiating from every inch, every iota of Daniel is enough to keep him like this for however long he must. Daniel opens his mouth and nothing comes out, and he closes it again with a frustrated sigh. Armand strokes his cock languidly, gathering the precum pearling at the tip and spreading it all over before slotting the edge of his claw into the slit at the tip, and Daniel’s hips buck up into it, involuntarily.

“Fuck”, he breathes out and Armand’s hand is back at the base of his cock. “Hurts, fucking… Feels good. The pain feels distant, like it’s an old wound or a scar that aches when the weather gets bad. Radiates through my whole body, and it’s hard to tell where it stops and you start. Feels like if you move, I’ll cum.”

Armand hums against Daniel’s skin, and his cock jumps in Armand’s hand.

My hand, or my mouth?

Daniel chokes out a laugh, and it jostles Armand just a little, and he can feel his fangs tearing further into the boy’s skin, into his flesh. He gives Daniel’s cock a few strokes, faster and tighter this time, and it’s awkward angle but Daniel’s knees almost buckle under him, and Armand is sure his fingerprints are etched into the boy’s hip by now.

“Either. Both. Armand, please, I need… you”, Daniel says, and there’s an edge of despair in his voice that sinks deep into Armand, settles somewhere near the pleasure coiling tight at the bottom of his stomach, licking up the base of his spine.

And he gives the base of Daniel’s cock one more squeeze before letting go, earning him a high whine, and he brings his hand up, watching as realization dawns on Daniel, and his eyes go wide and his pupils are blown so wide he looks like he’s experiencing the best high of his life, and then Armand dislodges his mouth from Daniel’s neck and spits into his own hand, trailing blood and drool down Daniel’s shoulder as he does so.

Daniel’s legs are trembling as Armand’s hand wraps around his dick again, and he sets a slow pace. It’s messy and sloppy, and not quite what Daniel likes, but he still unravels beautifully in Armand’s hands, breath catching in his throat as Armand’s tongue darts out to lick at his neck again, gathering up the blood and swallowing what he can, laying his tongue flat against Daniel’s skin and licking long stripes along his jawline and back down, and when he twists his wrist and rubs his thumb over the slit of Daniel’s dick, the tip of his tongue circles the puncture wound, dips in, and Daniel comes with Armand’s name dying on his lips.

Armand holds him up even as his knees buckle, and strokes him slowly through his orgasm, following the heave of his chest through the mirror as Daniel tries desperately not to float away. His cum paints the mirror, and slides down along it, and absentmindedly Armand wonders if Daniel would allow him to take photographs of him like this.

“Was I good?” Daniel slurs, head lolling back against Armand’s shoulder, a wide, spent smile on his face. Armand hums, and Daniel lets himself be turned in Armand’s arms, hides his face instinctively against the hollow of Armand’s throat, hands squeezing into fists in Armand’s coat.

“Yes, Daniel, you were very good”, Armand muses and takes a tentative step backwards, towards the bed on the other end of the room. Daniel follows on unsteady feet, but follows nonetheless.

Daniel lets himself be laid down on the bed, and there’s a glazed shine in his eyes, and his hands keep drifting up to poke and prod at the wound on his neck as Armand undresses, letting his clothes fall in a pile to the floor, they’re mostly ruined anyway. He takes a towel from the bedside table, and hauls Daniel into his arms, presses the cloth to his neck. Daniel hisses and tries to pull away, but his body is loose and pliable and Armand curls around him, tucks Daniel’s head under his chin and wraps his limbs tightly around him. He tries not to dwell on how strenuous all of this will be to clean later, and rather on the warmth of Daniel against him, the slight shiver in his limbs and the calming static of pain, of Armand in his head.

“Rest”, he whispers into the messy curls on Daniel’s head.

[honeyjars-sims]

Part 2 Prologue #1: Growth Mindset

Author's Note: I made some changes to my plans so the next few posts will be the prologue to Part 2 of Safe Harbor. They will fill in some gaps from the last chapter and set things up for the next chapter!

I’m preparing for my therapy appointment but this time instead of making the drive to Evergreen Harbor, I’m logging into our meeting on my PC. 

“So how are things going in San Sequoia?” Khadija asks me once we’re both settled in.

“It’s going great,” I tell her. It’s a little weird seeing her on the screen instead of in person, but before long our conversation feels as comfortable as ever.

“I’m glad to hear it! Is everything going okay with your roommate? I know you were a little apprehensive moving in with someone you don’t know that well.”

“Yeah, Paul’s pretty cool. I figured he would be, being Lucy’s brother and all. And everyone in the community has been welcoming.”

“So no secret cult activity?”

“Nope,” I laugh. “If anyone’s performing any rituals, they’re doing a good job of keeping it under wraps.” My impression of my neighbors so far has been that they’re mostly wannabe bohemians–they like the idea of a homesteading lifestyle but don’t want to fully commit to a life without modern luxuries. Pretentious, maybe, but not harmful.

“It sounds like you like it there.”

“I do. It’s different, but it’s fun. I’ve been helping out with the animals; you know, cleaning the chicken coop and milking the goat, stuff like that. I even helped hatch a chick!”

Khadija laughs. “I have to say, I never expected you to be out in the field doing labor.”

“I didn’t expect it either, but it’s not that bad. I guess I’ve been doing a lot of new stuff lately. Paul convinced me to join a yoga class and I think it’s helped me relax. And would you believe I’ve been doing cross-stitch?”

“Cross-stitch? I wouldn’t have pictured that either, but it sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it takes a lot of patience because I messed up a lot at first, but it's kind of relaxing in a way.”

“Relaxation seems to be a big focus for you right now.”

“I guess so. I’ve been trying to find new ways to regulate my emotions like you suggested. Honestly, I’m feeling really good right now.”

“I can tell. I’m really proud of your progress, Johnny. I can see you’re really putting in the work.”

“Yep, even when it comes to the hard stuff, like having to talk to Lacey, I’ve been able to work through my feelings and do what I need to.”

“Oh yeah, how did that go by the way?”

“It was okay. I just told her what I said to you, that I think she’s a really great person and I value her friendship, but I just don’t have romantic feelings for her. And I apologized for leading her on.”

“How did she take it?”

“Pretty well, I guess. I could tell she was disappointed, maybe even hurt, but she was cool about it. Work was a little awkward for a bit but I think we’ve worked past the worst of it.”

I'm glad that Lacey and I are still friends, but I do feel bad still about how everything went down with her. She's everything that I thought I wanted, but for some reason, it just wasn't clicking for me. The whole thing makes me more empathetic to what Lexie went through when she broke up with me; it really doesn't feel much better to be on the other side of things.

“Well, I’m proud of you for doing the right thing, even if it was difficult. I think it says a lot that you’re trusting your own feelings and not getting hung up on what you think you should do. I’d like to see you do that more often. How does that sound to you?”

“Good, but a little scary,” I answer. 

“A little fear is understandable as long as it’s not keeping you from growing. I think you can work through it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I think so.” I wasn't sure I'd ever get to this place, but for once in my life, I actually feel like I can handle whatever's coming my way. And I can't wait to take it on.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[hellishjoel]

in bloom

599 words / pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

← masterlist | notifications blog | seasons of life challenge masterlist

word: blossom

warnings/information: fluff, frankie has some lingering issues after being sent home from deployment

a/n: thought of this while staring at my boss' orchid blooming and about my failed attempts at keeping a cactus alive. the center picture is from @wildemaven! my banners are by @saradika-graphics. shoutout to @berryispunk and @lady-bess for putting this together on @fanfictionoverload!

Frankie imagined that being sent home from deployment would be heaven. However, his life as a civilian was lonely and a little terrifying, if he’s honest. 

Often surrounded by a band of his brothers, there was never a quiet moment. He once longed for silence and prayed for a moment of solitude. Being home, everything changed. 

He hated the sound of his breathing at night, how it ricocheted off the walls and filled the emptiness. He hated the quiet drives in his truck and fucking despised how there was no one to sing along to the radio. This wasn’t the freedom he had envisioned.

Instead of searching for company in all the wrong places, he found himself somewhere he never expected: the local farmer’s market. 

Frankie saw the flyer pinned to the bulletin board at the hardware store, decorated in bright, vibrant colors that listed the spring dates. 

Hell, why not?

With his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, he wanders through the market. Golden jars of honey glinted in the sunlight, freshly scored loaves of homemade bread filled the air with a delicious aroma, and vibrant blooms spilled from every corner, painting the scene in vivid color.

That’s when he saw you. 

Hair tamed by a red bandana, hands caked in dirt, an adorable smile on your pretty lips that had him in a trance. Truly, he had no idea he was even walking towards your stand until you greeted him. 

“Good morning, how are you?”

For a moment, he froze, words failing him as he stared blankly, his brain scrambling to catch up. Finally, he cursed himself inwardly, forcing a smile and managing a simple “Hi.”

You smile softly and nod, turning to speak to another customer who had wandered up. Frankie takes a moment to compose himself and looks around your stand, decorated by a red and white checkered picnic blanket and a chalkboard that displays your prices. 

“If you have any questions, let me know.” 

He flicks his eyes up to yours, taking in how they’re framed by dark lashes. He doesn’t want to lose your attention, so he points at the first potted plant he sees. “What’s that?”

You gasp softly at Frankie’s apparent good taste, moving to the folding table behind you to retrieve the plant with a colorful blue pot. “This beautiful blossom is actually a cactus. It’s kind of hard to tell because it’s covered in these little pink flowers, but she’s super easy to take care of. Good in small spaces.” 

“This plant is prettier than me,” Frankie jokes, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

Your smile widens, breaking into a laugh so warm and sweet it feels like the closest thing to heaven. He soaks it in, wishing he could play the sound on a loop forever, anything to keep the crushing silence at bay.

Frankie’s never cared for a plant in his life, but he hands you a twenty-dollar bill and insists you keep the change. 

"Thank you," Frankie speaks softly, his eyes warm as he sends you a grateful nod. "I'm back home after a while away, and it's been... an adjustment."

"Hey," you say softly, your hand gently catching his arm before he can walk off. You hold out the cactus, your smile kind and warm. "Cactuses are survivors. They adapt and bloom, no matter how tough the environment is. Feels like a good thing to have around, don’t you think?"

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, Frankie wonders if you’re talking about more than the plant in his hands.

← masterlist | notifications blog | seasons of life challenge masterlist

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Let’s put on some tinhats for a minute. Bear with me through all the set-up.

So, I think it’s pretty well known that Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman are pretty good friends, right?

And some other facts that most of us know:

Ryan’s wife, Blake, is suing her director/co-star for harassment and informed on a major New York Times article.

Blake’s harasser is suing the New York Times for libel and his co-defendant in Blake’s lawsuit is planning to counter-sue her.

Ryan has gotten dragged into this. First, Blake made comments during her movie’s press tour that he rewrote scenes during a writer’s strike (big no-no). Next, Ryan is said to have confronted Blake’s harasser on set to protect and defend her. Now, there are rumors that Ryan has been threatening people to stop supporting Blake’s harasser.

While Blake initially had a large segment of Hollywood and the public supporting her, some of that support is crumbling as more evidence and stories about her behavior come out and her absence from the Golden Globes was questioned. (By this I mean that there’s been social media commentary about how if they’re really telling the truth about what happened, they would have shown up to the Golden Globes projecting strength and confidence as part of their PR strategy, especially since they have a lot of support in the advocacy part of Hollywood. But they didn’t; not that they owe anyone a public appearance, but Ryan’s film was nominated, and in a brand new category to boot. The commentariat is suggesting that because they didn’t appear at the Golden Globes, it’s suggesting that they’re lying about some claims and didn’t want to risk being called out. Again, Ryan and Blake don’t owe anyone an appearance on the red carpet or at an awards show and their absence most likely doesn’t mean anything other than “they had other plans.”)

While all of this is happening to Ryan and Blake…

Hugh Jackman and his wife announced their divorce in September 2024.

Almost immediately, speculation began that Hugh had cheated/was cheating with his Music Man costar Sutton Foster.

For almost four months, the cheating and/or a Hugh-Sutton relationship was never confirmed.

UNTIL, that is, January 6th when they were papped walking hand in hand down a New York City street…coincidentally the same time when Hugh’s good friends, Ryan and Blake, began getting criticized and started losing public support in their lawsuits and complaints.

So, here’s the tinhatty part. Did Hugh and Sutton papwalk/debut their relationship to take attention off Ryan and Blake so the criticism and gossip would stop and they could regroup their PR strategy?

I don’t know.

But it’s awfully suspicious timing.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Fall 2024 Anime Overview: Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc.

Premise: Monsters called Kai are threatening ordinary people, and only magical girls can stop them. However, being a magical girl is no longer the domain of teenagers, and has evolved into an actual career dominated by adult women. Companies employ magical girls and send them out to exterminate Kai. Kana is having a hard time getting her first job. But when she ends up helping out a magical girl, she’s invited to become one for a small, scrappy company. There’s a lot for Kana to learn…

This was my favorite magical girl show of the Fall 2024 season- and how amazing is it we had three new ones for once! There's a lot to love about Magilumiere! For one thing, it gave me something I always crave: Adult magical girls (or magical women, though they’re called magical girls in this show). Much like how classic mahou shoujo often explores the struggles adolescence and growing up, this show uses mahou shoujo as a way to explore what it’s like to be a young woman entering the working world. Kana struggles to grow her confidence and adjust to her new job, but with the encouragement of her boss and co-workers, she discovers her own talents.

All of the magical ladies are pretty fun, with my favorite being Hitomi Koshigaya, Kana’s senpai in the work place. She’s a brash and raucous woman who loves kicking ass with shit-eating grin, she only ever wears tracksuits when she’s not on the job, she talks like a delinquent, bursts with confidence, and she’s very protective and sweet towards Kana. Basically, she’s goals, everything I love about soft hearted delinquent girls only she’s actually a grown woman this time! Wow!

But we also get introductions to plenty of other cool magical ladies, all who approach their jobs in a different way where they can learn from each other.And the women are always treated respectfully, visually and by the narrative. No jarring objectification or anything like that.

The show has a bit more of a focus on men than you’d expect, since while the magical girls fight on the front lines, Magilumiere’s engineer/tech support team are men, and the boss and his mysterious backstory is a big part of the show. However, they’re all good characters! And the show does still put a big focus on women, exploring their relationships, their development, and all the cool magical girl fights they can get into. It is so nice to see some hype magical lady fights, and rather than the unfortunate animation poor Acro Trip got, this show does pretty well with its visuals and fight scenes. The story especially lot of fun with the transformation sequences, and I love to see it.

The show also has a lot to say about corporate world, and it feels like it’s only getting started on that. From the beginning, it makes sure to contrast the way Magilumiere operates from the more cutthroat business of larger companies. The company’s boss, Kouji Shigemoto, was previously a partner in a much larger business, but seems to have left because how they were doing things didn’t jive with his ideals, and now he’s in charge of start-up where he's very focused on the best possible experience for both his employees and customers. He’s contrasted to his previous partner, who’s gone on to grow a big company that only cares about efficiency and the bottom line. His old friend doesn’t care about property damage or the feelings of the people who need help, just getting it done quickly and going on to the next job. He fires his employees casually, and doesn’t seem to care about them.

Meanwhile, Shigemoto is a very encouraging presence in his company, who checks in with his employees, talks to them, supports  them, and really respects their input. Magilumiere makes a point of avoiding property damage and finding ways to help the customer, even if it’s a lot more trouble. He describes himself as wanting to “protect” peaceful moments where they can just hang out and have fun. It may come off as being a little too worshipful of start ups, but I don’t think it’s trying to say all startups are like this. Shigemoto started his with the specific goal of being kinder to his employees and being true to his ideals, and that’s not a thing that applies to all startups. 

It's not saying anything groundbreaking so far, like it’s definitely not deeply questioning the hellscape of capitalism right now, but the message is nice, and I’m interested in seeing where it goes. The fact magical girls are privatized despite providing a life saving service is interesting, and I wonder if the show’s going to touch on this too, since it’s been implied there’s a grim origin involved. And then there's lots of a little jokes about tech companies too. The fact the magical women suck monsters up into flash drives after defeating them is honestly so funny.

The story also gives some brief shout outs to struggles real women face in the workplace—it’s mentioned there’s people on not-Twitter who mock magical girls for being “old” and just seem to want to harass and criticize them. But this hadn't really been explored in depth so far, which I’d like to see from the show. It would also be nice to see exploration of gender on the tech side of things--- like in the real world, it’s really notably male dominated. We’ve gotten some focus on one woman CEO and one girl engineer, but the gender imbalance is very much there. 

 The show disappointed very slightly by briefly throwing out that men’s magic is “too aggressive” (whatever that means?) and that’s why it’s all magical girls, which is a too-common gender essentialist explanation for women dominating a fantasy action story (see: Claymore) that has weird implications. Why can’t a lot of girls just be really good at magic? Why can’t it just happen to be a female dominated career but there are some magical boys? (And the fact the the explanation has to be like, guys are just TOO strong, TOO cool, TOO manly is like. lmao okay.) But it is a throwaway line that doesn’t ever come up again (and it does at least frame it as a ‘mystery’ they might figure out someday).

That brings me to an issue that may be uncomfortable for some viewers- Shigemoto wears a magical girl outfit while he’s working, and when he’s introduced the angle and vibe is intimidating and Kana reacts in shock and possibly fear, possibly playing into transphobic stereotypes. The next episode, however, makes it clear she’s specifically be shocked that it’s a middle aged man wearing “cosplay” at work rather than ever saying it’s the dress, the other employees are chill about it, Kana gets used to it, and the narrative moves on pretty quickly.

However it comes up in a minor way a couple more times, with Kana saying she's surprised Koshigaya worked there after seeing the boss dressed like that (Koshigaya’s response being ‘hey you decided to too! People in this company are interesting, aren’t they?’). Another magical girl doesn’t seem put off by it at all, but immediately assumes it’s business related. It is implied there’s some sort of work related origin for his cosplay and it's possibly tragic, but he does definitely enjoys the clothing (and has a nice skincare routine) and the male characters are always 100% supportive, with one of them particular often discussing fashion with him, if there should be more ribbons etc.

So yeah, YMMV over whether it crosses over into transphobia (or edges into it) but I’ve definitely seen way worse. I feel the series is mostly supportive even if it’s like “hahaha it’s a little weird right!” it’s not outright mean to him about it (imo).

The pacing may be a little slow sometimes, really wanting to cover every moment of the manga, but it’s always a good time, and there’s plenty of hype moments. The concept is so interesting and has so much potential, and I feel like the show is running with it.

The show has been unfortunately been confined to Amazon Prime, where a lot of people probably missed it, but it seems to be doing well in Japan and a second seasons already been announced, to my delight!

Over all, if you’re a magical girl fan or are just interested in a good show that explores magi-tech, working adult issues, and has some cool ladies fighting and bonding, I really recommend this one.