#double double acting trouble

[welcometololaland]

Double, Double, Acting Trouble | RWRB | 30k | E

(for @clottedcreamfudge. thank you to @celeritas2997 for beta reading)

I don't really have any way to describe this fic except to say that if you've ever wanted to read the most unhinged version of Alex and Henry getting together (in a crack-taken-seriously way), then this fic is for you. It features a divorce subplot (not Alex and Henry), a sea cucumber in a pickle costume, sushi for breakfast and a rat with half a tail named Henry.

Alex, Nora and Henry stare blankly at Professor Jenemy for a long moment before Henry sighs. “Sir, is that really the point of the play?” “Yes.” “I thought the point of the play was sea cucumbers,” Nora mutters under her breath. “Would a hug suffice?” Henry offers hopefully. “A long one?” Nora adds. “We can make it extra tender. I can leap into his arms—” “A hug could be interpreted as platonic,” Professor Jenemy argues. “It must be a kiss.” “Idea,” Alex offers, seemingly without thinking. “Nora and I swap roles.” Professor Jenemy’s jaw drops open. “In what world does that make sense?” “She doesn’t want to kiss Henry and I…wouldn’t say no,” Alex amends quickly. “And besides, I’m a better kisser.”

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[soobvape]

i need brownies so fucking bad rn

[scribblesofagoonerr]

🚨fic writing update!🚨

is there a specific fic that people want to see me write at all.

i feel like i've abandoned them all in favor of buddy & monkey/chaos fc, which i love to write about write now!

i currently have an idea for chaos fc - glastonbury type one shot also a few angsty ones for buddy & monkey, basically about how leah found out about monkey's scars and also her rocky relationship with jordan, but i'm not in a rush to write them

i'm trying to not write too much angst (bit hyprocritical to say) at the minute as i feel its' a bit too close to home, however, if that's something you want to see then i will try and write what i can do!

[neverenoughmarauders]

‘We are under no obligation to make sense to you.’

Sirius Black and James Potter

[afterthefeast]

rant about irish history below

im reading a book about the troubles written by an american for my book club and it genuinely makes me want to scream. it’s supposedly neutral or even focusing on the ira but it has the same tired attitude towards the conflict as every other bullshit british version. for example it describes the verified fact that the british army commited crimes during the troubles as “the impression, in the minds of many catholics, that the army was simply another instrument of sectarian oppression” when it is a matter of public record that the british army carried out assassinations of catholics who were completely innocent of involvement with the ira, that catholics, whether republican or not, were interned at an overwhelmingly disproportionate rate to loyalists, and that british intelligence operations directly lead to the deaths of catholics. i am no ira sympathiser and i think any attempt to look at the harm they caused to their own community and the wider country is good, but what infuriates me is the blatant hypocrisy with which the wider context is treated. accounts like these always act like the ira sprang up out of nowhere without mentioning the systemic and widespread discrimination and police brutality against catholics (and if this is mentioned it’s isolated to “bad apples” with an incorrect veneer of broad protestant toleration applied), or the proliferation of loyalist terrorist groups during the troubles, or the collaboration between the british army and unionist groups like the uwc. and they conveniently forget that the protestant majority in the north is not a natural result of population movement but the product of plantation and land seizure and then act like it is completely unreasonable for people either side of the border to want a united ireland because in 1922 the protestants there didn’t want it. i am not saying the ira were good or that irish people generally have always been perfect little victims or indeed that many irish people were not directly involved in british colonialism elsewhere but i would just like a level playing field when we talk about what happened as opposed to this constant distortion of the basic facts

[lustbcrne]

There are times when Kaeya does deliberately do or say things to genuinely aggravate someone he is sleeping with, all with the very intention of having them really put him through the ringer, particularly when he’s extremely upset about something or the ache in his body is beyond a tolerable level and he desperately wants something to distract him from it

[tammyisobsessedwith]

He’s so precious 🤭🥰😍

[countlessrealities]

Request or randomized kisses meme || No longer accepting

@advnterccs sent: 15. Kiss in the Rain { To your Morty from my Morty uwu }

{15. Kiss in the Rain}

Morty's heartbeat was echoing in his ears. It wasn't as loud as it got when he was extremely anxious or on the verge of a panic attack, but it was still insistent enough to make it impossible for the teen to ignore it. He was trying hard not to let it affect his behaviour, but he couldn't stop the light shaking of his fingers.

Hazel eyes darted towards his boyfriend, who was sitting next to it on the threshold of the French window that led to the backyard of his house. Above them, the sky was covered by dark crowd and the humid smell in the air betrayed that it would be start raining soon. He hated lying to his other self, but Rick had been adamant when he had told him that neither of their counterparts had to know about the hopefully short trip they would go on.

The teen dropped his eyes in his lap. He understood why his grandfather had forced him to promise that. It was a long shot and it really wasn't worth to give the other two false hopes, especially when they could have ascertained quickly enough whether or not it was a real lead. Yet, it still felt wrong.

"Uh, h-hey, I need to...T-There's something I need to tell you," he started, hoping that his voice wasn't as tight as it was sounding in his ears. "I...R-Rick and I are going on, uh, an adventure. I-It's the usual shit...w-well, kind of, but...w-we might be gone for a few days an-and...I wanted to let you know. An-And I wanted to say bye before we leave."

He swallowed, trying to ease the knot in his throat. Was he sounding weird? Too dramatic? He didn't want his boyfriend to get suspicious, but he couldn't help it. He was nervous, afraid even. And yes, his and Rick's adventures got scary and they sometimes still scared him, even after everything he had faced and done, but this was different.

Since that close encounter with that Rick...their original Rick, and damn if he still wasn't struggling to wrap his head around it...the Ricks had been acting weird, even before they had replaced themself with a robot. Now that everything was out in the open between the four of them? He could see how deep the abyss of obsession their two adventure partners were risking to fall in was.

Morty knew that he couldn't risk putting his foot down. Not now, not when his Rick had already proved that he could just decide to deal with it on his own. He and his boyfriends were the only thing keeping the two stubborn jerks from throwing themselves over the edge, as they had done years before. He had to be there for Rick, first and foremost. It was a task he could not fail. No matter the cost.

"G-Geez, I'm making it weird, aren't I?" He made himself go on, managing a chuckle that didn't sound too forced. "I-It's just...I'm going to miss you."

Damn, that was straight out cheesy. Yet, he would have lied if he had said that he didn't mean it. Maybe it was clichéd, maybe it sounded silly, especially since it should be just a few days, but he couldn't help how genuine the sentiment behind those words was.

Suddenly feeling too restless to remain seated, Morty pushed himself on his feet, hesitating just for a split moment before offering his hand to his counterpart to help him up in turn.

Once they were both standing, he found himself playing with the other's fingers. He couldn't tell if it was just a way to distract himself or if he was biding his time. Perhaps, he was merely seeking to prolong the contact.

"I-I have to go soon. R-Rick said that I could stay a while, b-but...he's really, uh, eager to leave." And wasn't that an understatement. "S-So...I..."

His voice trailed off as the first drops of rain started to fall over them. He didn't want to think about the grimmest what-ifs, but it was hard not to, with the weight of revelation on his shoulder and a shadow looming over them all. One shaped like the guy whose actions had been the start of it all, but he wasn't the one casting it. No, it was made of the obsession of their Ricks.

Swallowing quietly, he decided to give up on words and to let his action speak for him instead. With much less hesitation than he had expected, he leant forward, wrapping his arms around his other self's neck and bringing their mouths together.

The rain was falling more and more heavily, soaking their hair and clothes, spreading cold over their skin, but Morty almost didn't notice. His attention was fully focused on the feeling of those warm lips moving against his own and on the taste of his boyfriend's mouth. The moist sweetness and the hint of bitterness left by the dark chocolate they had shared earlier.

Eventually, he had to reluctantly break away to allow them both to catch their breath. As much as he would have liked to just stay there, in his counterpart's arms, getting lost in the kisses they could have fed to each other, he knew that it wasn't possible.

"I-I love you, FM." The words were still so new on his tongue, so foreign. Not just because they had shared them for the first time just a few days before, but also because his counterpart was the very first person he had told them to in a romantic way. "I-I'll see you in a few days."

The last sentence was barely out of his mouth when a portal opened a few steps away from them and Rick's voice called his name from inside it. Their time had run out.

Morty chose to indulge himself for one more moment and stole another quick peck from his boyfriend's lips before letting go of the other's hand and stepping backwards towards the green vortex. One last smile and a wave and he forced himself to turn around and stepped inside it, before he could do something stupid as running back into his counterpart's arm and telling him everything he wasn't supposed to tell.

It wasn't a big deal, if he didn't make the whole ordeal into one. They would see each other in a few days. Of course they would.

[cosycafune]

THE KING WANTS AN HEIR! SO, GIVE HIM ONE.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

the king is an insatiable man, whose sexual urges know no bounds when it comes to you. however, seeing you naively interact with another family, who’s sheltering a baby, stirs primal urges within him. naturally, he wants to stuff you until you’re broken, pregnant and heavily swollen with his precious baby. after all, the king needs an heir. 5.7k words.

jjk men. acts: unprotected sex, double penetration, rough sex, gentle sex, breeding kink, corruption kink, missionary, excessive creampies, mating press, riding, angry sex, fingering, back shots, spanking, an arranged marriage, sukuna being hungry, sex in front of a mirror, and potentially other acts. masterlist.

jjk men: satoru gojo, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, suguru geto, choso kamo and sukuna. a/n: to that one miserable anon, enjoy. happy three months to this blog. art by sakimenz on patreon.

satoru gojo

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Cornered, pinned beneath Satoru, you gasp. No escape lingered as his knee grinds against your sensitive clit, increasing the embarrassing slickness within your underwear. The look within Satoru’s eyes screamed urgency, longing, need and to obliterate you to satisfy his salacious appetite completely.

“S-Sato’, what is it?” Meekly, flaunting naivety, you question Satoru while battering your lashes – caged by his intent.

Questioned your king, knowing his lustful eyes hold unshakable authority, you obediently succumbed to Satoru’s intimidating gaze.

“I want a royal heir. Now,” Urgently speaking, Satoru furrows his brows – picking at the ends of your regal dress.

“Use me, my king,” At Satoru’s disposal, you pour your deepest desire out – your doe eyes glimmering with the art of corruption.

“As you wish, my Queen,” Toned with smugness, Satoru responds to your submissiveness – increasingly aroused by your naivety.

To think you’d have him take you so quickly, giving him unlimited access to you.

“Show me how much you want that heir, my love,” Intrigued, sculpted by his whims of degradation, Satoru greedily commands you – unsatisfied by the lack of contact.

“A-Ah! Y-Yes, my king,” Steered by Satoru’s knee obliterating your arousal-webbed clit, you subconsciously blurt out your desires – shelving your queen-like traits.

Right now, you’re a beautiful worshipper for him.

“When we’re done, I will get you pregnant,” Devoted, Satoru’s eyes and statement warn you – gifting you a chance to back out before he grows crazed.

“P-Please! N-need to be swollen with your baby, so everyone can… see I’m yours,” Ego-less, you spout out your heart – compelled by Satoru’s knee driving into your sensitive cunt.

“Hm, to see if you can handle it, let me stuff you with my fingers,” Sadistically grinning, Satoru deviously mutters in your ear – biting the curve of your sensitive ear.

“Ngh! I’ll handle it,” Pleading with Satoru, you instantly shudder at his plump lips brushing against your ear – his troubled breaths staining your hearing.

“Be as loud as you want, no one will bother the Queen and King,” Chalant, Satoru gruffly informs you – quelling his deepest urge to tear you apart and stuff you so indecently.

Unfit against the thought of teasing you, Satoru gathers you in his arms – quickness tinting his skilled muscles. Nothing in him could resist your pouty, adrenaline-stricken state. It wasn’t every moment where his satiable queen would remain before him, her regal dress being stained with an intimate scandal – propped up for his greedy sexual urges. All Satoru dreams of is stuffing you beyond comprehension, drowning you out with his cum and riddling you dumb, helpless and dependent.

“D-Don’t hold back, Sato’,” Naively mumbling something provoking, your heart seizes at Satoru’s beast-like gaze falling on you – predatory.

“I’m fine with that, but don’t act as if I’ll show you mercy,” Licking his lips, Satoru grows prideful at his deep tone vibrating against your cuddled self – promoting your power difference.

“Show me that,” Controlled by your taunting, Satoru quickly rushes you towards your tempting bed – shoving you beneath his large, burly frame.

“Ah, be careful what you wish for,” Humming through his lustful speech, Satoru instinctively grabs your exposed underwear – tearing it apart in a hurry quicker than the human eye.

“You beast,” Taunting Satoru with trembling anticipation, you puff out your cheeks – delirious at your bare, slick cunt exposed to the world.

“I’ll show you one, my love,” Buzzing, Satoru pours his lips against your soppy cunt – stuffing his tongue between your writhing folds.

Throwing your head back instinctively, Satoru loudly begins to ravish you – his ample fingers prodding against your screaming cunt. If Satoru buries his celestial fingers inside your cunt, he knew he’d have finally conquered you – as your sanity flitted each time his fingers invaded your cunt. To him, that’s checkmate – prompting his beautiful breeding kink. Seeing you so submissive would alter him, triggering his attempts to leave you pregnant and reliant on him.

Captured by Satoru’s fingers hungrily flooding your cunt, you arch your back – tainted and clouded by Satoru’s invasive presence. Bandaged with every element of him, you pant recklessly. Your cognitive functions are puppets for Satoru’s show, leaving him ruling over your pleasure-stricken body – tearing apart your dress and leaving you nude before you could notice.

A starved fiend, that’s what he is.

“I just want to fuck you,” Hungrily slurping up your obedient cunt, Satoru mumbles – pussy struck whilst he thrusts his thick fingers into your begging cunt.

“Ah! Yes!” Embarrassingly near to cumming, decorated with warmth, you scream without a care in the world – unable to handle Satoru’s fingers and warm tongue ramming against you.

“Taste…so good,” Rutting his erection against your wealthy blankets, Satoru hungrily samples every aspect of you – voicing his love for your cunt.

“‘M gonna,” Warm, extremely dizzy, you glance down at Satoru – arching at his fingers pulverising your gushing walls.

“Quicker you do…quicker I get to put a baby in you,” Satisfied, purring through his sloppy speech, Satoru casts himself into picking up his pace – thrusting his fingers the deepest he could.

“Ngh! Y-Yes!” Conducted by your release, you pant vigorously – unable to control your beast-like breathing at finishing so roughly.

All you could sense was Satoru’s smug expression.

“Now, it’s my turn,” Bombarded with thrill, Satoru casts himself into uttering — using an ounce of his cursed technique to shed his clothes with urgency.

“Desperation has… never looked this good on you,” Grinning, you murmur to Satoru with fatigue — unable to counter the anticipation that lingers.

Unwilling to throw away a second, Satoru cast himself into grasping his cock — running his thick tip against your soppy cunt. Angelicness tints his deceitful features, leaving him a mess — his ears warming at being so close to you. So close to ruining you, moments away from stuffing you with a child — through his fruitful seed.

“‘Need ya,” Hazy, Satoru breathily whimpers — casting himself into rutting his thick cock into your awaiting cunt.

“Hgh!” Crying out, your eyes frantically roll back — consumed by Satoru’s monstrous cock breaking into you.

Gasping, unable to control your array of moans, you grip Satoru’s hand — attempting to control your movements. Being pinned beneath Satoru’s body of an enclosure, you grunt, whimper and howl towards his large cock splitting apart your cunt. 

“F-Fuck! ‘Missed this,” Vanquished by sexual relief, Satoru moans out his sentence — needily shoving more of his cock into you.

“S-Sato’!” Reigned by the king, you’re suffocated by Satoru’s warmth, his essence, his fat cock and his overbearing lust.

“You’re…begging, at this point,” Fruitfully stuffing you, Satoru makes room to taunt you — gleeful at your physique crumbling before his cock.

“Y-Yeah,” Mentally out of it, you cloudily respond to Satoru — being pounded by his relentless cock.

Naturally, Satoru’s a relentless conqueror.

“My…precious, wife,” Fittingly, Satoru picks up his relentless pace — fulfillingly finishing inside of you without an ounce of shame.

“S-So…soon?” Slightly confused, you question Satoru — only to be knocked out of it by his thick cock pulverising you entirely again.

“H-Hard holding back,” Panting vigorously, Satoru lovingly glances down at you — kissing your pillowy lips.

“We have all night, don’t stop,” Encouraging Satoru, you hazily encourage him — trembling at the intensity of his cumshot.

“Of course, I’m not done,” Vouching that he’d ruin you, Satoru beautifully informs you.

toji fushiguro

«───── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

Accompany Toji by his throne, on your knees before him, you glance up at him. Naively, you flaunt your doe eyes — mystique and intrigue tinting you. Usually, Toji would never command you to situate yourself before him — nude, degraded and a royal shell of yourself. 

“Is there a reason why we’re both naked, angrily staring at each other?” Questioning your husband,  staring up at his large cock, you settle it between your pliant fingers.

“Because you haven’t given me a damn baby yet,” Furrowing his brows, Toji roughly proclaims his thoughts — gritting his teeth at your hold movement.

“That’s why you were so angry when you saw that family?” Playfully taunting Toji, you plant yourself into circling his pre-cum coated tip — intrigued by his fruitful emotions.

“Yeah, since I’m tryna have everyone see you pregnant and just mine,” Grunting pensively, Toji trembles at your thumb harshly pressing against his thick tip.

“That’s why you told me to strip and meet you in the throne room?” Innocently asking Toji, you flaunt your doe eyes — admiring his twitching cock.

“Why else? So we could dance or whatever?” Angered by your false naivety, Toji snaps back at you — only for his eyes to flutter at each sway of your thumb.

“I’ll dance on your cock, if that’s what makes the kingdom’s moody king happy,” Scoffing, you teasingly respond to Toji — hovering your warm lips before his cockhead.

“First, you’ll show me that you deserve that baby,” Raising your brow at Toji’s demand, you prettily grin, “Then, I’ll stuff you until the kingdom has a damn heir.” Enchanted by Toji’s skilled determination, you admire his vexed expression — along with his rising mouth scar.

“I’ll ruin you, King Fushiguro,” Regally threatening Toji, you allow your lips to linger above Toji’s tip — your warm breaths frustrating him.

“Hurry, then,” Increasing his attention towards you, Toji applies his cursed speech within your ear — eagerly clinging to the throne.

“My, my, my king’s so impatient,” Confidently speaking, you teasingly kiss Toji’s massive cock-head — observing him puddle before you.

“Fuck, woman,” Defeated by your celestial lips, Toji mutters subconsciously — intensely watching you softly lick his tip.

“Hmm, look how desperate you are,” Grinning through your words, you finally cave into Toji — smushing your lips around Toji’s reddened tip.

“C’mon,” Impatiently pushing you, Toji grits his teeth at your insufferable teasing — annoyed at you depriving him of pleasure.

“Patience, my dear,” Resisting the urge to rub your dripping cunt, you shakily mutter to Toji — focusing on him.

Gently, you begin to pour Toji’s veiny cock into your mouth — pushing your head down to accommodate him. Filling your thin cheeks with Toji’s cock, you begin to constantly suck — using your soft hands to stroke his left-over length.

“S-So…good,” Submitting to your intoxicating warmth, Toji blurts out his heart — his fingers itching to throat-fuck a skilled you.

“D-Don’t cum,” Warning Toji, you cast yourself into bobbing your head recklessly — entertained by Toji writhing beneath you.

You always sucked him so good.

“C-Can’t…promise,” Quivering beneath you, Toji gasps at you vulgarly engulfing him — completely stealing his you-tainted soul.

“‘Need it…inside,” Messily speaking, you watch Toji’s flustering eyes — controlled by his fingers gripping onto your prepped curls.

“Give…you… all of it,” Unable to think straight, Toji lazily responds to you — bucking his hips into your mouth without any regard.

“Y-You’re…twitching,” Ruined by Toji inhumanely slamming his hips into your mouth, you plead for air — teary and destroyed by his subconscious pace.

“G-Gonna—”

“N-No,” Pulling your mouth back, you bluntly answer Toji — getting up from your knees and facing him.

Observing an enraged Toji, you cast yourself into wickedly grinning. Grinning before you straddle him on his throne, carrying not an ounce of shame. Shame towards his tension-build self, unwilling to shed the cocky facade you exhibit.

“Don’t act so mad, you want a baby,” Teasing Toji, you accustom yourself into openly taunting him — rutting your hips against his sensitive cock-head.

“I’m taking… control,” Panting recklessly, Toji narrows his eyes while he asserts dominance — grabbing his intimidating cock.

“Don’t make me regret it,” Instantly regretting your words, you cry out as Toji aligns himself — mercilessly sinking you onto his hefty cock.

“O-Oh!” Meeting Toji’s eyes, you naively moan — your eyes painfully rolling back at him filling out your stomach.

“‘M not getting…blue balls,” Satisfied, Toji thrusts so deeply within you — unwilling to give you time to recover from plunging on him.

As petty reparations, Toji manhandles you — grasping your ass cheeks and forcing you to take more. Take more before he pounds into you cruelly, throwing his head back at your strained moans and surrendered state.

Expanding his sadistic tendencies, Toji grins at his cock throbbing effortlessly — taunting your sensitive cunt further. It doesn’t help that you’re foolishly close to reaching your breaking point, never being one who’s capable of handling riding him. However, Toji grows uncaring — kissing against your cervix before he swarms your gummy walls with his bucket-loads of cum.

“Ah!” Yelping at Toji’s hurricane-like cumming, you almost collapse against him — only for him to cloudily chuckle at this revolutionary moment.

“Think…I’d go easy on you?” Barely able to question you, Toji’s enveloped by you tightening around him — embarrassingly cumming from him finishing too hard inside of you.

“N-No…don’t stop,” Engulfed by Toji’s essence, you plead for him to not stop, “We have all day, fill me up as long as you like.” Mentally finished, you continue to mewl and release lewd sounds — contained by Toji filling up your abdomen.

“Hmm, we’re gonna have a baby,” Hazily glancing at you, Toji lowly speaks — granting you a strained kiss.

—

kento nanami

«── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

Situated in the kitchen with Kento, you tremble at him pressing against you — pretending to grab an ingredient for you. Lately, Kento had grown increasingly needy — yearning for you around ovulation. This increasing urge haunted you, leaving you his manhandled rag doll. You were always moments away from being folded into a mating press and drilled by him, no matter where.

“Kento, you’re awfully needy,” Calming down your nerves, you chuckle with your speech — accidentally dropping your knife for apple pie.

“I can just…smell that you’re ovulating,” At Kento’s flustered truth, you gasp at his erection prodding against your bubble butt.

“And what?” Bending down to grab your knife, you counter Kento — smearing your cunt against his erection.

“F-Fuck, that…means I’m ready to fulfil our chances of having an heir,” Grunting, Kento trembles while he speaks.

A mess, Kento caresses your bubble butt — gently humping your bent-over state. Absolutely nothing, but your consent, could pull Kento away from your arched self. Fuck, Kento knew you were tempting him — smashing against his erection to provoke him. To push the king into ruining you in the royal kitchen, close to ruining your regal reputation.

“If you can eat me out from behind, I’ll let you fold me in a mating press,” Before you could finish your sentence, Kento already tore your day's attire and underwear.

He’d have to buy you a new pair.

“You damn beast,” Taunting Kento, you attempt to quell your prominent submission — steadying yourself against the marble counter.

“J-Just can’t resist… your sweet smell,” Unable to contain his inner savagery, Kento lightly mutters — hypnotised by your soppy cunt.

“C-Careful, anyone can walk by and in, Kento,” Rather panicky, you tremble towards Kento’s greedy tongue slotting between your folds.

“I’m the king and you’re the queen, I don’t care,” Kento proclaims, arching you further. Comfortably on his knees, Kento drinks up your squelchy cunt — lapping up your strings of arousal.

Whining, erect, Kento’s expression strains at being unable to relish you properly. Therefore, he provokes you — shoving his gluttonous face between your thighs. Even as your legs grow unsteady, Kento uses a large hand of his to keep you upward — facing the royal window and pretending to be calm as people walk by.

Kento could sense they knew something was up.

“Hgh! r-ruin…me,” Fixating on your words, Kento roughens his tongue's pace — burying his fingers into your gentle ass. As if he would go easy on you, especially with your ovulation.

“You don’t have… to ask me twice,” Smitten, Kento eagerly responds to you — content at you growing seconds away from finishing.

“D-Don’t know…if I can! Ahhh!” Crying out, you vigorously cum against Kento’s tongue — overwhelmed and drawn out by the entirety of him.

“Hmm, so sensitive,” Content, Kento comments on your current condition — happily lowering your vulnerable physique to the ground.

“T-Take me, Ken’,” Surrendering to Kento, you lovingly speak — fatigued at his intense eating.

“Of course,” Licking his lips, Kento answers — swiftly disregarding the bottom half of his clothing.

“Can’t believe…we’re gonna fuck on the kitchen floor,” Content, you voice your spirit to Kento. Intrigued, you peek at Kento — quickly releasing his thick cock.

Shifting before you, Kento casts himself into grounding his knees upon the kitchen floor — positioning himself above you. Enthralled by your cunt, Kento casts himself into preparing his mating press — smearing his tip against your fluttering cunt.

“Need all of you now,” Commanding, Kento rubs his cock against your folds — only to plunge into your cunt with ease.

“Ohhh!” A moaning mess, you’re silenced by Kento’s hand covering your mouth — gifting you not an ounce of time to adjust.

“Mhmm, I’ve missed that,” Feral, Kento’s cock frantically twitches — causing him to slap his hips against yours. He fills you with his cock, so deeply within you.

Controlled by your ovulation, Kento presses his cock deeply inside of you — swearing that your sweet cunt is a bottomless well. Heated, frantic and a stupid mess, Kento beautifully folds you — suffocating you with his large cock kissing against your pressured walls. Walls that accommodate him, but choke at the scary pace Kento inflicts.

Kento’s hungry and insatiable.

Thrusting at a might that captures you both, Kento groans roughly — hitting a point within you that makes both of you cum. Cum in a way that doesn’t stop him, leaving him pounding until he gets his royal heir. There’s no way he would stop, even with the two of you against the kitchen floor — so close to being stopped and caught.

The king and queen, huh?

__

suguru geto

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Surrendering to a possessive Suguru, you allow him to toy with your rosy lingerie. Monitoring him, you raise a brow — noticing the angry cloud that contains him. Usually, Suguru’s a content king. Yet, something about seeing you holding another man’s child stirred jealousy in him.

“Suguru, what’s wrong?” Confused, you question your husband — puddling at his fingers gripping your ass.

“I want a baby, but you’re too busy holding random royal’s babies,” Furrowing his brows, Suguru answers you — spanking your ass gently.

It’s obvious that he wanted to go harder. He’s angry.

“Fuck! S-So tell me what you want, Sugu’?,” Caving into Suguru’s spanking, you utter — arching at his harsh slap.

All you can hear is your ass recoiling.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, until you’re pregnant.” Comforted by your listening, Suguru voices his desires — playing with your doe eyes.

“S-Sugu’,” As you try to find the right words, Suguru holds you extremely close — his head resting against your plump breasts.

“I’d do anything to see you so full, pregnant and mine,” Trembling at the thought of filling you efficiently, Suguru harshly blabbers — gripping onto you with no intentions of freeing you.

“I’ll let you, Sugu’,” Softly speaking, you gently push your underwear to the side — noticing the mirror at your side.

“Hm, but I’ve got to prep you first,” Riddled with tension, Suguru informs you — bringing his fingers to circle your tender clit.

“Be rough because… I know you’re angry,” Mocking Suguru’s enraged state, you gasp at him pulling you into his lap — toying with your pierced clit.

“Don’t provoke me,” Suguru alerts you, prodding his fingers against your cunt — passionately kissing your parted lips.

“If I let you, King Geto, we could… have had a newborn by now—” Hazed by Suguru’s clit swirling, you lazily talk — only for your eyes to widen at him suddenly stuffing your cunt with his fingers.

“—You’re always wet, so I knew that’d shut you up,” Relentlessly muttering, Suguru jams his fingers impossibly deep — watching you attempt to pry away from him.

“‘M so…full!” Reprogrammed, you let out an outcry — burying your fingers into Suguru’s carved shoulder.

“Mhm, soon it’ll be a baby,” Hyperfixated on impregnating you, Suguru continues, “I won’t stop until you’re pregnant, flaunting your bump and nurturing an heir.” Suguru’s seriousness causes your heart to swell.

“Yes! I’ll…Yes!” Attempting to get out your point, Suguru thrusting takes away your abilities to speak.

Reprimanding you, Suguru shoots his fingers endlessly inside of you — watching your brows knit together. Seeing you battling his fingers, riddled with pleasure, left the king extremely content. 

“You dare disobey your king?” Teasing you, commending you for trying to govern your pleasure, Suguru pounds angrily into your weakened state.

Suguru knows that you’re one to cum so fast, so seeing you trying to stretch this one motivated him. 

“I-I…No…Fuck!” Trying to control your consciousness, you’re rendered useless.

 Mortified, you finish extremely fast. Your physique grows warm and your legs tremble, deemed useless at Suguru continuing to stuff his fingers into you. Your losing streak had stretched on, particularly from always cumming so quickly when he fingered you.

“Bad girl, guess I have to stuff you in front of the mirror,” Relishing your panting state, Suguru patronisingly speaks to you. 

Naturally, Suguru’s mellow at your ego being knocked down a hinge. With not a word fleeing from your lips, Suguru plants himself into slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt — sucking them whilst maintaining excruciating eye contact.

Manhandling you, Suguru throws you onto the bed — pushing you into a rough arch. Rough arch before he harshly slaps your doughy ass, delighting in the way you recoil with pleasurable pain. His anger still hadn’t subsided, so taking it out on you — consensually — further aroused him.

“Scream as loud as you can, I want everyone to hear how our heir’ll be made,” Taunting you, Suguru hurriedly pulls off his shorts — only to come back and tear at your lingerie.

“Y-Yes!” Obedient, you agree with him — admiring your reflection in the mirror.

Smitten at your compliance, Suguru runs his cock against your yearning folds. Wickedly greeting your eyes in the mirror, Suguru stuffs your cunt without warning — basking in you almost collapsing at his movements. Nothing in him yearns to keep you stable, wrecking you until you’re a pregnant mess. 

After all, Suguru needs an heir; he’s not willing to let this fruitful moment slip from his burly fingers.

“Make sure to hold yourself up,” Mocking your cock-filled state, Suguru rams harder into you — making sure his large balls slap against your clit.

Without further notice, Suguru grips onto your hips — roughening his pace. Content at your screaming, mewls and outcries, Suguru obliterates you with his ample cock — his balls aching your sensitive clit.

“Mhhmmm!” Muffling into the sheets, you admire your tear-stained eyes in the mirror.

“G-Good…” Grunting, Suguru pounds into you without any care — in love with the way your cunt swallows all of him.

Beautifully consumed, Suguru subconsciously finishes inside of you — crushing you with his body weight to solidify the moment. Solidify the moment as you wail with pleasure, accidentally joining Suguru in the moment. After all, Suguru always got what he wanted — angry or not.

If the nocturne turns to daybreak, Suguru wouldn’t care. Even if you’re battered, ravaged and turned inwards, Suguru doesn’t care. He’s ravenous and in need of an heir.

He’d never hurt you, though.

—

choso kamo

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

Walking towards the parted bathroom, confusion floods you. Floods you as you listen to tainted grunts and love-stuffed moans. Instinctively pinpointing them as Choso’s moans, you raise a brow with confusion — unsure of what’s occurring.

“Cho’?” Sceptical, you gush out your question — pouring your scarcely robbed self against the bathroom door.

“Mhm, Y/n,” Nonchalantly speaking, you pucker your lips at the lewd sight of Choso stroking his cock — beads of sweet dousing his forehead.

“C-Cho?” Unable to stifle the thudding between your thighs, you meekly call his name — standing before an absorbed Kento.

“Y-Y/n!” Gasping, Choso’s outcries are replaced with slight terror as you’re grounded in front of him — watching him jerk himself off in your bathtub.

“N-Need some help?” Innocently asking a drowsy Choso, you watch him embarrassingly monitor you — noticing your skimpy attire.

“Yeah, but not with me, you,” Gasping at Choso’s aloofness, you gulp — meeting his semi-serious gaze.

“What is it?” Submersed in Choso’s scare statement, you respond — squishing your chubby thighs together.

“I want us to have an heir,” Blurting out his confession, Choso glances at you with hope, continuing, “I know I’m half-cursed, still struggling with human emotions, but I still want a baby with you.” Glancing at his erection, Choso observes you strip — climbing into the large bathtub.

“Fill me with one, Cho’,” Exhibiting your wealthy gaze, you let out a heartfelt answer — listening to Choso’s breathing hitch.

“Baby, I need to feel you tease me,” Almost desperate, Choso blurts out his deepest needs — flooding your heart and head with explicit lust.

“Hm, you’re so cute, King Kamo,” Teasing the king, you gently pinch your nipples — gently straddling his hopeless self.

“Should have known you’d tease…me,” Smitten, engraving your presence upon him, Choso replies — star stricken by your nude figure.

“‘M holding back,” Striving to not pounce on Choso, you lazily purr — grinding against his sensitive cock-head.

“Since when… have you held back?” Digging his fingers into your hips, Choso throatily questions you — smearing his you-deprived lips against your own.

“Never, but…I want it to last,” Confessing, you harshly whine with pleasure. Controlled by Choso’s wavering fingers sowing into your doughy ass, you arch into him — relishing the harsh marks Choso’s bound to plant.

“This is your foreplay… since we just finished having sex?” Mocking you, Choso coolly asks you — his eyes contrasting his tame demeanour.

“Yes, and I’m soaking,” Frantic for Choso’s cock, you mindlessly grind against cum-spewing tip — scarcely having time to respond.

“Mhm, you’re still covered in hickeys,” Attentive, Choso points out the obvious — helping you apply his heavenly cock to your adoring cunt.

“Need to be filled, Cho’,” Clinging to him, unafraid of the sloshing water, you whisper your deepest desire.

Nodding, monitoring your state, Choso plasters himself into descending you down on his cock. However, slightly troubled gasps flee your lips — especially from being so tender. Yet, Choso notices — faintly brushing his toned fingers against your supple cheek.

“I’ll give you everything again, my love,” Pussy-stricken, Choso's breaths become clustered with his promise — his rawest urges rubbing against you.

“I expect…nothing less from my king!” Drowning Choso with your outcries, you begin to entwine with Choso’s pace — bouncing on his cock while he bucks so viciously within you.

Whenever Choso sexually had you, he wouldn’t spare you an ounce of grace or mercy — pulverising you until the angel sang your prayers. Gentleness, whenever Choso’s lulled by your wealthy pussy, was practically nonexistent. Seeing you sit against him, your pretty, perky breasts bouncing, it made Choso lose any grasp of his morals. Morals at seeing you desperate for him, unable to pull away.

“L-Look…at my girl,” Clutching your hips intensely, Choso pushes you further down his cock — lovingly complimenting you.

“Ah! S-Shit! P-Please…get me…pregnant,” Unable to handle riding Choso, you gift him a tender plea — struggling as he heightened his stamina with his blood techniques.

“Mhm, we need…an heir,” Proud of you cumming swiftly, Choso mutters while he increases his pace — gritting his teeth at you strangling his vast cock.

“D-Do…it,” Exhausted, Choso animalistically becomes more consistent with your consent.

Driven by your squelching cunt, Choso fucks into you his hardest. His sacred breaths flee from his lungs, leaving him a pitiful mess — fucking into you until he’s so close to giving out. Choso’s legs are almost close to collapsing, but he pounds into you at a celestial pace until he finally finishes — filling your womb with his precious babies.

There’s no way he would stop until you’re pregnant. After all, you’re ovulating.

--

sukuna.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Wrapping a towel around yourself, you comfortably walk towards your bedroom — sighing to yourself at the lack of your husband. However, as you begin to peel off your towel, you hear your bedroom door burst open. Burst opens in a way that leaves you scrambling, cruelly met with Ryomen’s true form. A form that cowers over you, dismantling the faint light within your bedroom.

“R-Ryo’?” Gulping, terrified, you meekly squeal out your question — entwined with a thudding thrill that greets your cunt.

“I need to get you pregnant,” Straightforward, Ryomen authoritatively speaks — seriousness lingering in his carmine eyes.

“Y-You c-could have knocked,” Bare before a nearing Ryomen, you cover your breasts with your arms — shakily responding.

“What fun would it have been, knocking on our room door for my naive wife?” Boredom slightly tints Ryomen’s inquiry, leaving him plentiful at your flustered physique.

“N-None, R-Ryo?” Suppressed by Ryomen’s lustful corruption, you almost stumble at him overpowering you — his stomach’s mouth chuckling.

“My little dove’s nervous,” Mocking you, Ryomen grins at your nude physique — nuzzling at your submissiveness.

“T-Take me,” Uneasy at being exposed, you blurt out your soul’s desires — fiddling with your fingers at Ryomen’s toned abs.

“I’ll plant a sweet royal heir in you,” Mischievously muttering his plan, Ryomen gently pinches your nipple — walking forward to trap you against your ample bed.

“W-What’s come over you, Ryo?” Curious, you question Ryomen — realising your mistake as he lifts you with a singular arm.

“Not having an heir with you,” Predatory, Ryomen cast himself into voicing his concern — pushing you into straddling him.

“You really are a big baby,” Teasing Ryomen, you accidentally moan at his stomach’s tongue prodding against your ass.

“Can I?” Concealing his primal urges, Ryomen gruffly asks you — longing to gather a beautiful taste of you. Taste before he allows his seed to spread, toning your physique for nine months.

“Y-Yeah, but be careful, I’m still sensitive from last night,” Warning Ryomen, you almost topple at his insensitive tongue darting against your cunt — tearing apart your sanity in an instant.

“I’ll try, but you know it’s not in my nature to hold back,” Countering your need for ease, Ryomen hungrily responds to you — revealing his covetous urges for you.

Simply nodding, secretly yearning for Ryomen to decimate you, you toss yourself into giving into his thick, warm tongue. A tongue that relishes you so inhumanely, conquering you to the point you're craving, ailing and fixated on Ryomen’s tongue. A tongue that has mastered all of the arts on you, swiftly flicking your clit with no regard.

“Mhm, Ryo,” Struck with an unfathomable amount of pleasure, you moan out his name — sticking your fingers against his timeless abs.

“Cum quickly so I can stuff you beyond repair,” Humming out his impatience, a pair of Ryomen’s arms push you impossibly further against his insatiable tongue.

Content with your obedience, Ryomen buries you inhumanely against his tongue — shedding his ropes of care towards your thriving self. Sadistically monitoring, he applies an ounce of his brute strength — destroying your clit with pitiful licks that consume you. Within this form, he had to be careful — ensuring you come out in one piece.

“S-So…close! Ah! Yes! Yes!” Ecstatic, you surge Ryomen’s ears with your mewls — riding his tongue without any regard.

All you were doing was stirring Ryomen’s primal instincts, completely leaving him wanting to devour you — filling you with his two cocks.

“I’ll have to be quicker,” Grinning maliciously, Ryomen taunts you — speeding his tongue at a pace that leaves you weeping. Weeping without any mental strength, tinting with the overstimulating warmth of his licking tongue. 

A tongue that roamed effortlessly through your folds, sucking down on your clit before roaming to overwork other spots of you. Spots that ride Ryomen’s forbidden tongue, clouded and coerced by the sweet physical rhythm that his tongue introduces. A tongue you would always beg to ride, being able to meet Ryomen’s eyes without having to currently sit on his manly face.

Swarmed with an unmissable pleasure, your physique cramps against Ryomen — finishing swiftly against his tongue. Before you could shift yourself, you find your fatigued self shifted lower to rub against Ryomen’s ample cocks — almost ready to soothe his thudding cocks. Cocks that were forced to endure your whines, moans, and outcries without being truly satisfied.

“Don’t act like I wasn’t going to stuff you after you cum,” Expectant, Ryomen fills the ambience with his voice — intrigued by you instantly rutting your folds against his cockhead.

“I-I’ll take both,” Somewhat terrified, you pledge to take both — groaning at Ryomen using both of his hands to align his cocks.

Attempting to composure yourself, you grow soothed at Ryomen’s main arms running against your hips. Running against your hips before he hurriedly sits up a little, giving you room to face his features and steal a kiss of assurance.

“I’d have expected no less,” Sparing you praise, Ryomen slowly plunges his main cock within you — watching your eyes flutter with distress and pleasure.

“N-Never took two before,” Panting, rather teary, you voice your concerns — only for Ryomen to lovingly kiss your lips.

“Hm, you will today,” Ryomen gruffly informs you, aligning his second cock to sink inside your bubble butt.

“S-So…intense,” Furrowing your brows, you’re barely able to speak — hazy and faint as Ryomen descends you down on both of his cocks.

Clinging to Ryomen, you bury your fingers into his tender skin — scratching at his honed muscles. An overwhelming array of fear tints you, but that subsides the moment Ryomen sinks so deeply. The immense pleasure tears your lidded eyes open.

“Hm, that’s… the queen I love,” Cooing, Ryomen stuffs you further —  endowing you with a few experimental thrusts that contort you.

“C-Can’t…” Unable to speak, you just allow your eyelids to flutter. Your pleasure’s unable to be voiced from the intensity of it all, painting you into a state of weakness — attempting to ride.

“We’ve got all night,” Attempting to hold out, Ryomen accidentally cums with both of his cocks — the tempting warmth overwhelming even him.

“Mhm, you’re gonna break me,” Fixed with primal urges, Ryomen animalistically thrusts his thick cocks within you — terrorising and breaking you subconsciously.

“That’s the point, to prepare you for our baby,” Love-strickenly conversing, Ryomen pounds into you carelessly — humming as he has all night to shatter you.

—

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

[welcometololaland]

M for the alphabet game!

hello friend! I know you are a rwrb enthusiast, so I will answer this re: my rwrb catalogue (not as extensive as I would like!)

M: what's the weirdest AU scenario you've come up with?

undoubtedly the most wild AU I've written for henry and alex is the time I tried to write a college au and ended up re writing a stage production of underwater macbeth with alex as lady macbeth, pez as barracuda aka banquo, henry as macbeth and nora as susan the seahorse (original character but I think bill would approve). also there is a sea cucumber narrator originally played by darren who is eventually played by hunter. no one dies (except king dungeness the sea crab) and the entire play devolves into marriage counselling.

if you haven't read it, you shouldn't but you also can - the fic is called double, double, acting trouble. it was written for @clottedcreamfudge but I actually blame @rmd-writes @inexplicablymine and @celeritas2997 for listening to this insane idea and simply failing to say no to me 😌

fic writer ask game

(apparently some countries call a fillet-o-fish a macfish so...)

[tanadrin]

And God said, "Behold! I have created the fourth primordial force: the weak interaction!"

And the angels all clapped and nodded politely, and there was a long silence; and finally Verchiel, the Angel of Grace, spoke up and asked, "Er, what exactly does it do, O Fashioner?"

And God said, "What do you mean, 'what does it do?' It's the fourth fundamental force of the universe."

And Verchiel said, "You mentioned that. Um. But it's just that the other three sort of have a brand, you know? Gravity helps build large-scale structures, acts over vast cosmic distances, shapes time and space. The strong force is secret, hidden, binding together quarks and all that. Electromagnetism, very cool stuff, somewhere in between. We're all big fans of the whole magnetic monopole double bluff, very clever. But, er. What does this 'weak interaction' do?"

And God said, "It mediates radioactive decay. Sort of."

And Verchiel said, "Radioactive decay? All radioactive decay?"

And God said, "No. Just some kinds."

And Zephaniel, the Chief of the Ishim spoke, and he said, "A whole independent force just to mediate some kinds of radioactive decay?"

And God said, "Well. Not totally independent. Technically it's related to electromagnetism."

And Zephaniel said, "Wait, it's not even a real force?"

And God said, "It's totally a real force. It's just that it's one aspect of a combined electromagnetic and weak force. An electro-weak force, if you will."

And Metatron, the Celestial Scribe, scratched his head at this, but said nothing.

And Cambiel, the Angel of Transformation, said, "Maybe you can walk us through it from the top."

And God Sighed an immense Sigh, and said, "All right, fine.

"So the way it works is that all of space and time is permeated by a field that has imaginary mass."

And Cambiel said, "Imaginary mass, O Generous Provider?"

And God said, "Yes, imaginary mass. It's tachyonic, d'you see?"

And Sarathiel, the Angel of Discipline, said, "Wait a minute, I thought we agreed nothing was going to travel faster than light? All that 'c' business and the whole Lorentz transformation thing. What's happening with that?"

And God said, "Let me finish. The field is tachyonic. The particles in the field all move slower than light."

And Sarathiel had to think about this for a second.

And God said, "The point is, a field with imaginary mass has a non-zero vacuum expectation value."

And this really gave Sarathiel trouble, since he had never been very good at math.

And God, seeing this, went back to explain. "Most fields, like the electromagnetic field, have no effect when they are at their lowest energy state. It's like they're not there at all. If you give a field imaginary mass, then it vanishes only when it's at a very high energy state, and at a low energy state, it has a nonzero value everywhere."

And Sarathiel nodded, but he was confused, because he didn't understand why God would create such a thing.

But Verchiel thought he saw where God was going with this, and he was amazed.

"Truly, you are cunning beyond measure, O Only One Certainly Sound and Genuine in Truth! Only now do I understand your design! For in order to make the universe homogenous and isotropic, it is necessary that all large-scale fluctuations in temperature and mass must be evened out early in the history of the cosmos; and therefore, you have designed a field which will rapidly expand space after the Big Bang, many orders of magnitude in brief moments, and then swiftly and spontaneously decay as it gives up the energy it began with, giving rise to radiation and particles of all kinds as it does, which will condense into the material universe! It is a wonder to behold."

And God said, "What? No. I mean I did, but this isn't the inflaton field I'm talking about. This is something else."

And Verchiel said, "Wait, it's not?"

And God said, "No, I'm going to use a different field to drive cosmic inflation. The properties of this field are totally different."

And now Verchiel was also confused, and lapsed into silence.

And God said, "Like I was saying, this field is a scalar field with imaginary mass, and it does spontaneously decay to a ground state with a non-zero value. But it's not the inflaton field. Instead it combines with the W1, W2, W3, and B bosons."

And Metatron began to flip back through the pages of the Heavenly Record trying to figure out where he'd lost the thread.

And Zephaniel said, "The what bosons?"

And God said, "The W1, W2, W3, and B bosons. I'm sure I mentioned them. You know, the massless bosons?"

And Zephaniel said, "I'm pretty sure we only talked about the W+, W-, and Z0 bosons. All of which you said were going to have mass, O Owner of All Sovereignty."

And God said, "Yes, but this is how they get them, you see. Once this field acquires a nonzero value everywhere, the massless bosons interact with it and get mass. Well, some of them do. They turn into the W+, W-, and Z0 boson. And the photon."

And Zephaniel said, "…and the photon, O Accepter of Invocation?"

And God said, "Well, I did say I was going to unify the electromagnetic force and the weak interaction, didn't I? This is how. Above the critical temperature--right now I'm thinking 10^15 K, but I'm open to feedback on that one--electromagnetism and the weak force act as a single unifying force. Below that temperature, the field gets a nonzero value, you get three massive bosons to mediate the weak interaction, and the photon pops out seperately."

And Zephaniel said, "That seems… a bit overly complicated, doesn't it, O Reinstater Who Brings Back All?"

And God said, "No, it's exactly what we need. Look, that way the W and Z bosons have something to do, but the weak interaction still only travels short distances. Gravity is still the star of the show on cosmic scales, as it were. But now quarks and leptons can swap their flavor!"

And Zephaniel said, rather weakly, "Their… flavor, O Source of Good?"

And God said, "It's this new quantum number I'm trying out, to give the three generations of matter more unique identities."

And Cambiel said, "Three generations of matter? Now I'm really confused."

And God said, "I'm sure I mentioned this. You've got the lightest quarks and leptons, and then two heavier versions of each that can decay into the lighter versions."

And Cambiel said, "What do they do? New kinds of chemistry, is it?"

And God said, "Well, no. Mostly they just decay in a couple microseconds. Or even faster."

And Zephaniel began to rub his temples, and Cambiel sniffed.

And Cambiel said, "This all seems a bit ad hoc to me. Not really the stuff of an elegant and obviously ordered Creation. Why not have four generations of matter? Why not a trillion?"

And God began to grow irritable, and said, "Well, that's not really up to you, now is it? We're going to have three generations of matter, and the electroweak force, and that's that!"

And Zephaniel said, "As long as we are unifying fundamental forces, perhaps we could somehow also unify the electroweak interaction with the strong interaction, or even gravity."

And God hesitated saying, "Well, I haven't decided about that yet. I'm not sure I want gravity to be quantized, you know? Seems to take some of the geometric elegance out of general relativity."

And now it was Zephaniel's turn to sigh, and he bowed his head. "As you wish, O Possessor of Authority of Decisions and Judgement."

[bythepowerofscience]

I hate cops as much as the next guy, but I think people need to start getting more comfortable with calling highway patrol on somebody. Not for tailgating alone - like chill, dude, but I'm not gonna report it - but if you start weaving through super dense traffic like youre playing subway surfers with the freeway I'm calling the cops on you I'm sorry I don't make the rules

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Building A Culture

Culture is defined by a collection of morals, ethics, traditions, customs and behaviours shared by a group of people.

Hierarchy and Social Structures

Within every culture, there is a hierarchy. Hierarchies are an important part of any culture, usually do ingrained that one within the culture wouldn't even question it. Hierarchy can be established either by age, gender or wealth and could even determine roles within their society. Sometimes hierarchy can may be oppressive and rigid whilst other times, ranks can intermingle without trouble. You should consider how these different ranks interact with one another and whether there are any special gestures or acts of deference one must pay to those higher than them. For example, the Khasi people of Meghalaya (Northern India), are strictly matrillineal. Women run the households, inheritance runs through the female line, and the men of the culture typically defer to their mothers and wives. Here are a few questions to consider:

How is a leader determined within the culture as a whole and the family unit?

Is the culture matriarchal? Patriarchal? Or does gender even matter?

How would one recognise the different ranks?

How would one act around somebody higher ranking? How would somebody he expected to act around somebody lower ranking?

Can one move socially? If not, why? If so, how?

Traditions and Customs

Traditions are a staple in any culture. These can be gestures or living life a certain way or to the way a certain person should look. Traditions are a personal detail to culture, they are what make it important. Tradition can dictate how one should keep their home, run their family, take care of their appearance, act in public and even determine relationship. Tradition can also be a double edged sword. Traditions can also be restrictive and allow a culture to push away a former member if they do not adhere to them, eg Traditional expectations of chastity led to thousands of Irish women being imprisoned at the Magdelene Laundries. Customs could be anything from how one treats another, to how they greet someone.

How important is tradition?

What are some rituals your culture undertakes?

What are some traditional values in your world? Does it effect daily life?

Are there any traditions that determine one's status?

Values and Opinions

Values and Opinions are the bread and butter of any culture. This is the way your culture sees the world and how they approach different life hurdles. These may differ with other cultures and be considered odd to outsiders, what one culture may value another may not and what opinion another holds, one may not. There will be historical and traditional reasons to why these values and opinions are held. Cultures usually have a paragon to which they hold their members to, a list of characteristics that they expect one to if not adhere to then aspire to. The Yoruba people value honesty, hard work, courage and integrity. Here are some questions to consider?

How important are these ethics and core values? Could somebody be ostracised for not living up to them?

What are some morals that clash with other cultures?

What does your culture precieved to be right? Or wrong?

What are some opinions that are considered to be taboo in your culture? Why?

Dress Code

For many cultures, the way somebody dresses can be important. History and ethics can effect how one is meant to be dressed such as an expectation of chastity, can impose strict modesty. While other cultures, put more importance on details, the different sorts of clothes worn and when or what colour one might wear. The Palestinian people (من النهر إلى البحر ، قد يكونون أحرارا) denoted different family ties, marriage status and wealth by the embroidery and detailing on their thoub.

Are there traditional clothes for your world? Are they something somebody wears on a daily basis or just on occasion?

Are there any rules around what people can wear?

What would be considered formal dress? Casual dress?

What would happen if somebody wore the wrong clothes to an event?

Language

Language can also be ingrained as part of a Culture. It can be a specific way one speaks or a an entirely different language. For example, in the Southern States of America, one can engage in a sort of double talk, saying something that sounds sweet whilst delivering something pointed. Bless their heart. I have a post on creating your own language here.

Arts, Music and Craft

Many cultures are known for different styles of dance, their artwork and crafts. Art is a great part of culture, a way for people to express themselves and their culture in art form. Dance can be an integral part of culture, such as céilí dance in Ireland or the Polka in the Czech Republic. Handicrafts could also be important in culture, such as knitting in Scottish culture and Hebron glass in Palestine. Music is also close to culture, from traditional kinds of singing such as the White Voice in Ukraine and the playing of certain instruments such as the mvet.

Food and Diet

The way a culture prepares or intakes or treats certain foods are important to a culture. In some cultures, there is a diet yo adhere to, certain foods are completely banned. With Jewish culture, pork is prohibited along with fish such as sturgeon, along with shellfish and certain fowl. Meat must also be prepared in a certain way and animal byproducts such as dairy, must never be created or even eaten around this meat. This is known as kosher. The way one consumes food is also important to culture. In some cultures, only certain people may eat together. Some cultures place important on how food is eaten. In Nigerian culture, the oldest guests are served first usually the men before the women. In Japanese culture, one must say 'itadakimasu' (I recieve) before eating. Culture may also include fasting, periods of time one doesn't intake food for a specific reason.

What are some traditional dishes in your world?

What would be a basic diet for the common man?

What's considered a delicacy?

Is there a societal difference in diet? What are the factors that effect diet between classes?

Is there any influence from other cuisines? If not, why not? If so, to what extent?

What would a typical breakfast contain?

What meals are served during the day?

What's considered a comfort food or drink?

Are there any restrictions on who can eat what or when?

Are there any banned foods?

What stance does your world take on alcohol? Is it legal? Can anybody consume it?

Are there any dining customs? Are traditions?

Is there a difference in formal meals or casual meals? If so, what's involved?

Are there any gestures or actions unacceptable at the dinner table?

How are guests treated at meals? If they are given deference, how so?

[luvsupa]

I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAMMM!

summary: whatever you do, do not fuck mr.ghostface!

tags: ghostface!geto x fem!reader, naoya mention .., set in the 90s and inspired by fear street!!, smut, ōral sex (m and f receiving), knife play, slightly mask kink, humiliation kink, exhibitionism kinda, death, mentions of blood, etc, mdni

w.c: around 3.6k (sorry I got carried away …)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR 1.6K WAAAATTTT WE GOIN UPPPPP YEASSS

+ geto in tbis fic looks just like this fanart 🙂‍↕️

kinktober masterlist

you lean against the register, bored out of your mind as you scribble distorted faces on your company’s notepad. working a night shift sucks—especially a closing shift. you huff as the intercom blasts the latest rock song, a weak attempt to liven up the dead atmosphere. lately, the cd shop has been busy with customers buying vinyls, posters, and movies. ugh, it was so annoying having to scan the newest movie, scream. the line was always so long it nearly wrapped around the whole building!

you glance out the glass front doors, scanning the empty, dark streets, genuinely debating whether you should close two hours early since no one is coming. your attention shifts as you hear the bell ring, indicating a customer entering.

ugh.

your smile drops when you see naoya, your annoying coworker who flirts with you in the weirdest ways. he’s always condescending and putting you down until you found out from another coworker that he’s actually attracted to you. he walks toward you, standing in front of the register as if he were a customer. you honestly forgot he was still here after he said he would take a ‘five-minute’ break an hour ago.

“you don’t get paid to draw, now do you?” he says, leaning over to grab the notebook. you let him take it, but he rips the page clean, crumpling it in his fist. gosh, you hated when he acted like the manager. “anyways, I’m clocking out! must suck having to stay for another… two hours!” he laughs, glancing at the clock above. he giggles as he walks behind the counter into the bright red font ‘employees only’ room, leaving you scoffing in annoyance. you waste time fixing the decorations on the register as every minute drags by.

ring!

your heart stops when you hear the company phone ringing. who the hell calls at this hour? you pick up the corded telephone and force yourself into a professional tone.

“thank you for calling cursed tracks, how may I help you?” you say, lazily watching over the store. there’s a long pause, and your brows furrow. is this a prank call?

“hello—”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you burst out laughing, doubling over at the blatant prank call. there’s no way. it’s beyond cringey that you would be a victim of ghostface’s evil scheme. tears roll down your cheeks as you hang up the phone, your laughter still ringing in your ears. but then, you stumble backward, colliding with something solid—no, someone. your laughter halts as you slowly turn your head, gulping hard as your eyes drop in horror. screaming in genuine fear, you see him: ghostface, knife in hand, just like in the movies.

you stumble back into the counter, panic rising as you cry out, cornered in the booth. he drops his hand and bursts into laughter, and your brows furrow in confusion. he lifts his hand to remove the haunting mask, and embarrassment floods over you.

seriously.

“naoya, that wasn’t funny,” you snap, shoving him away as he continues to laugh uncontrollably. “you— you should’ve seen your face! I wish I recorded this— we would’ve been stars!” he wheezes, still amused as you find none of this funny. he continues to mimic your reaction, and you bite your lip to keep from lunging at him.

“stop wearing display costumes, asshole! you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you scold, turning away as he playfully bonks your head with the fake plastic knife. irritation washes over you.

“jeez, naoya— just leave already, you’re ruining my alone time,” you say coldly, clearly annoyed by his antics. you hear his footsteps retreating to the employee room, allowing you to calm down from his stupid joke.

you lean against the counter once again, watching over the store in boredom, your eyes feeling heavy as each minute passes. maybe you should really quit- you’re not getting paid enough for this. you roll your eyes at the ruckus coming from the room behind you—nayoa’s making way too much noise.

bastard, you mentally insult him.

you close your eyes to rest them, feeling exhausted from the long shift when you suddenly sense someone standing behind you. your eyes shoot open, and your heart drops again as you turn around to see nayoa in that damn ghostface costume.

“very fuckin’ funny, naoya,” you scoff, trying to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. he’s breathing heavily under the mask, staying still as if waiting for your reaction. you turn to yell at him, but the words choke in your throat. your eyes drop to the knife he’s gripping in his hand, and it looks too real—dripping with what looks like blood. your breathing quickens as you glance at the fake plastic knife that naoya left on the counter, your eyes twitching in disbelief.

“o-okay, naoya, you’re scaring me.”

“darling, who’s naoya?” the male voice says, distorted through the mask’s speaker. tears rush to your eyes as you see blood seeping from under the employee room door.

you step back, your back hitting the counter, trapping you just like before when nayoa scared you. the male steps closer, tears spilling down your cheeks as fear overwhelms you; you can’t call out for naoya—he’s fucking dead!

without thinking, you attempt to jump over the counter, but before you can touch the ground, you feel yourself being yanked back by strong hands. you squeal at how fast he moves, pinning you against the wall with one hand holding you in place and the other gripping the sharp, bloody knife to your throat. your eyes widen, the blade too close to your artery. if you looked up at the popcorn ceiling. you’d see the end of it—your life flashing before your eyes.

“oh pretty, you were just acting like a big girl,” geto coos, his voice soft yet terrifying. the grip on the knife loosens slightly as he pulls back his head, and your eyes remain shut, fear washing over you.

“y’r sooo fuckin’ nasty, huh,” geto comments, and your brows furrow as you stare at the creepy face behind the mask. he chuckles, and you follow his gaze down—oh fuck. you wish your body wasn’t reacting on its own! you’re grinding your hips against his knee placed between your thighs, your rhythm so subtle you didn’t even realize.

“let’s test how nasty you really get.”

those were the last words that echoed in your head as he had you behind the counter, knees grinding against the freezing floor, your jaw aching from the relentless thrusts. his thick cock slammed into your mouth with brutal force—so deep that you swore you could feel him in your chest, the bulge in your throat visible as he used you mercilessly. both of his hands gripped your head with brutal force, his long fingers tangling in your curly locks as he fucked your face like a filthy fucktoy. his groans, muffled by the infamous ghostface mask, sent shivers down your spine, the hollow black eyes staring soullessly at you as he threw his head back in ecstasy. the obscene sounds of wet gags and sloppy suction filled the store, the mess overwhelming—drool and spit spilled uncontrollably from your mouth, coating his shaft and dripping down your chin, soaking into the front of your work shirt.

your nose repeatedly slammed against his crotch, the rough patch of his pubes tickling against your skin, making you tear up even more. the strain in your jaw was unbearable, his fat cock stretching you wide, each thrust so forceful you thought your jaw might snap. but you kept your grip on his jeans, fingers digging into the fabric as your throat was pounded raw. his heavy black boot was wedged between your legs, you couldn’t stop grinding on him. each roll of your hips against his boot sent delicious friction through your core, and you were drenched, your panties soaked through your pants, sticking to your swollen folds. the slick sounds of your cunt rubbing against his boot mixed with the wet slurps coming from your mouth, each grind making you moan pathetically around his cock.

geto’s head dropped down to watch, eyes behind the hollow mask taking in the sight of you—a filthy, drooling mess on your knees with his cock buried so deep down your throat that a bulge swelled in your neck. drool poured from your lips in thick strings, and your hips moved desperately against his foot, grinding on him like you couldn’t help yourself. but he didn’t let you keep going. his movements stopped abruptly, and with a harsh yank, he pulled your head back off his cock, making you gag and cough, gasping for air. the sound of your desperate choking echoed through the store as strings of spit connected your swollen lips to his twitching tip, your eyes wide with lust and tears. the sight of you, completely ruined in your leggings, face soaked and pussy grinding against his boot, only made him harder, his cock throbbing in front of your face.

“you jus’ can’t help it, can you?” geto growls, his voice thick with cruel amusement as he grinds his boot harder into your cunt, your soaked panties doing nothing to dull the friction. the pressure sends jolts of filthy pleasure up your spine, making you cry out pathetically, your body writhing against him. his grin stretches behind the ghostface mask, those empty black eyes staring down at you, drinking in your desperation.

in a single, brutal motion, he rips you off the ground and slams you onto the counter, CDs clattering to the floor around you. your legs fly up, bent and spread wide, exposing you to him completely. his eyes rake over your body like you’re nothing more than prey. with a harsh tug, he rips your pants off, tossing them carelessly behind him. the moment his gaze lands on the soaked crotch of your panties, your clit twitches in response, your cunt clenching involuntarily, knowing what’s about to come. the fabric is practically see through now, drenched in fear and filthy arousal, and it only makes his smirk widen behind the mask.

your eyes are glossy, chest heaving as your legs stay bent up, thighs trembling with anticipation. you should be terrified, and you are—but the heat pulsing through your core is undeniable. the sight of him towering over you with that eerie mask, black eyes hollow and unfeeling, does something sick to you.

without warning, geto pulls a another knife from behind him, the blade gleaming dangerously in the store light. you gulp hard, a whimper escaping your lips as he waves it inches from your face, the cold steel sending a wave of fear coursing through you, but it only makes your cunt throb harder.

“don’t move,” he whispers darkly, dragging the tip of the knife down your neck, making your skin break out in goosebumps. the blade hovers over your chest, your nipples hardening as he traces your curves. he presses just enough to remind you of its sharpness, enough to let you know he could cut deep at any second. the threat lingers in the air, the thrill of it making your thighs tremble.

he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches your shirt. with a quick flick of his wrist, you hear the rippppp of fabric as the blade slices your work button-up clean open, exposing your bare chest. the sharpness of the knife cutting through the material like paper sends a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine.

“cheap shit,” he sneers, but the way your nipples perk in the cool air has his cock straining even harder. his hand moves lower, the tip of the blade dragging dangerously over your trembling stomach, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

you gasp when he finally reaches your panties, the cold metal resting against the swollen lips of your pussy. “y’know. . .” he trails off, voice thick with lust as he presses the flat of the blade against your clothed clit, the cold, sharp edge making you jerk involuntarily. “never had someone so . . .desperate in their final moments.”

it’s humiliating how your clit twitches at the contact, how your cunt clenches around nothing, soaked and aching for him. he notices, of course, the way your hips twitch toward the blade, and the wetness that’s already beginning to drip down your thighs.

“fuckin’ embarrassing,” he mutters, but his voice is laced with something darker—he’s getting off on this, on how soaked you are for him. the knife slides lower, grazing your inner thigh, just shy of cutting you, the scrape of the blade against your skin sending shivers through your body. you can feel your pulse in your clit, each drag of the cold steel only making you wetter, more desperate.

“this turning you on, baby?” he asks, his voice low and mocking. you can’t even respond, too lost in the filthy heat coursing through you.

with a quick flick of his wrist, the knife slices through your panties, the sharp blade cold against your slick folds. you gasp, your pussy finally exposed, clit twitching as the cool air hits your drenched core. the knife grazes your swollen lips, barely a whisper of pressure, but it’s enough to make you moan, your cunt clenching desperately.

he hums in approval, staring down at your glistening pussy, the wetness dripping from your folds, thighs trembling as you lie there helplessly. geto’s exposed cock twitches painfully at the sight, his eyes narrowing behind the mask as he drinks in how ruined you already are.

“fuckkk,” he mumbles, voice thick with lust. he lets the knife trail up, dragging it over your clit just enough to make you gasp, the cold edge sending waves of agonizing pleasure through you.

you’re fighting the urge to touch yourself, legs trembling with need, but he’s dragging it out, watching you suffer, savoring every filthy, desperate moan that spills from your lips. your cunt clenches again, dripping, aching for more, but all he does is graze the blade over your sensitive skin, keeping you on the edge, waiting for him to finally take what’s his.

without a second thought, geto rips off the ghostface mask, revealing his face in all its sinful glory. his long black hair cascades down his back, a few loose strands framing his face just right, giving him that perfect, messy look. your heart nearly stops at the sight—those silver piercings in his lower lip glint under the lights of the CD store. fuck. your breath catches as you realize just how devastatingly hot he is, a man who could ruin you in every sense of the word.

“f-fuck, mr. ghostface. . .you’re so fucking hot,” you moan, your cunt clenching involuntarily at the sight of him. he smirks, catching your reaction instantly, bringing the blade right back to your dripping cunt, but now it’s different—now you can see every twitch of that gorgeous smirk, every glint in his wicked eyes. nothing is processing in your mind at this point. you’re too far gone, body shaking as he holds all the power over you. he could do anything right now, and you’d let him.

geto leans in, inhaling deeply, letting your scent drive him mad before diving headfirst between your thighs. his lips find your cunt with no warning, devouring you like a fucking beast. his tongue plunges into your soaked hole with reckless abandon, the wet, obscene sounds echoing through the empty store. your back arches violently against the counter, the cold glass windows around the store only barrier between you and the outside world. if anyone walked by and caught sight of this—fuck, you’d be fired in an instant. but the thrill of that thought only makes the heat in your core burn hotter.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, hands flying to tangle in his thick, soft hair, yanking him closer. he groans deep, the sound vibrating through your clit as you pull his head in tighter. mr. ghostface loves his hair being pulled—check! you think, feeling the way his body reacts to your grip, only making him devour you more ruthlessly.

his nose nudges your clit, adding to the torment as his tongue relentlessly works your insides, the metal ball of his tongue piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. it’s so nasty, so fucking loud as he slurps up your juices, the slick sound echoing around the store. you can’t believe your body is making this much of a mess, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the counter beneath you. you’re losing it, completely undone by how he’s devouring you.

geto’s tongue is merciless, and just when you think it can’t get any better, he brings two thick fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in deep. the stretch makes your head spin, his digits spreading you open wide as his tongue continues to work your cunt. he groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending another wave of ecstasy through your core. the sensation of his tongue, his piercing, and his fingers all working together has you seeing stars, your walls clenching around him uncontrollably.

“fuck, look at you,” he growls against your cunt, his voice muffled but still dripping with arrogance as his fingers curl inside you, finding your sweet spot instantly. your eyes roll back, legs shaking uncontrollably as the tension in your belly coils tighter. your grip on his head tightens, forcing him further into you, needing more, more of that perfect, filthy mouth. his lips close around your swollen clit, biting at it just enough to drive you insane, while his fingers pound into you relentlessly.

you catch a glimpse of his face between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes fluttering shut as a moan slips past his pierced lips, his tongue flicking out to lick your slick from the corner of his mouth like he can’t get enough. he’s completely lost in you, ruthlessly making out with your cunt, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you feel your orgasm building, heat burning in your stomach, your cunt clenching around his thick fingers.

“listen to how talkative she is,” geto sneers, a wicked smirk stretching across his face. without hesitation, his free hand grabs the store’s telephone, fingers working quickly to connect it to the intercom. before you can process what he’s doing, he presses the microphone right up against your drenched, sloppy cunt.

your eyes go wide in horror as the filthy, wet sloshing of your pussy echoes through the entire store. the slick, obscene sounds of your cunt squelching and dripping around his thick fingers fill the air, amplified by the speakers. every thrust makes it squirt, the embarrassing symphony of your slick coating his fingers making your stomach drop with humiliation. you’re completely exposed, the sound of your body’s desperate reactions bouncing off the store walls, reminding you just how nasty this is.

the wet slaps, the relentless gushing of your cunt, and the squelching noises leave you utterly mortified. It’s so loud, so filthy that if anyone were to walk by, they’d hear everything—and know exactly what a mess you’re making for him. every slick, nasty sound screams your shame, broadcasting to the entire store that you’re getting off to a literal serial killer!

“look at you,” geto chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “so fucking nasty for me. all this for a killer? huh? you like knowing what a filthy slut you are?”

geto throws the telephone, letting it dangle by the cord, before roughly flipping you onto your stomach. your feet barely touch the ground as your chest presses into the counter- bent over, giving you a full view of the empty store. his eyes darken as he takes in your position, biting his lip at the sight of your ass wiggling back, grinding against his hard cock. you can’t help but plead, your voice breathy and desperate.

“please, mr. ghostface, you’ve been sucha tease,” you whine, turning your head to watch him as he toys with his lip piercing, eyes fixed on you like he’s weighing his options. before you can beg again, he makes his choice—sliding his fat, mushroom tip past your dripping entrance. the stretch of his tip slightly burning but- oh it felt so good. your body jerks forward with the slow, agonizing thrust, his thick crownhead teasing innn and outttt of your needy, aching walls. you cry out, wanting—no, needing—more.

desperation overtakes you, and you try to fuck yourself back onto him, but his hand comes down hard, swatting your ass. the sharp sting only makes your pussy clench harder, and you hear him tut in disbelief at how filthy you’ve become for him. “unbelievable how you’re this horny,” he sneers, gripping your hips tighter as if to hold you still.

“if you’re a virgin, just say—ahh,” you taunt- gasping loudly when his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls you flush against his broad chest. his thick tip remains lodged inside your cunt, teasing you with how little he’s giving, yet how desperately you crave more.

he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “i’d love to stay and prove your point,” he purrs, eyes flicking to the front of the store, where the bright blue and red lights of approaching police cars flash in the distance. your mind is too foggy, too consumed with lust to understand what he’s hinting at. “but baby, your little coworker—the one you never bat your pretty lashes at,” he continues, his tone darkening as his grip tightens around your neck, turning your head toward the ‘employee’s only’ door.

that’s when you see it—the large, dark puddle of blood seeping from under the door, your coworker’s lifeless body hidden from view.

“i-i don’t care, i wan’ you,” you plead, tears stinging your eyes as your walls grip his girthy tip, trying to coax more from him. geto chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he turns your head back toward the front of the store, where the police cars are getting closer. his hand slips away from your neck, leaving you trembling as he cruelly pulls his cock from your addicting cunt, leaving you empty and desperate as he swiftly tucked it back in his pants.

tears spill from your eyes as you feel him slipping away, denying you what you need. “he’s the one that ruined our fun,” geto says, his voice soft but menacing. “and sadly…” his words trail off, and you freeze as you feel the cold tip of a sharp blade pressing against your neck. you gulp hard, heart pounding as the reality of the situation sets in.

“’m really sorry, baby, but i can’t have you snitching to the police, can i?” he whispers, and with a swift motion, the blade slices cleanly across your throat. blood trickles down in a warm line, your breath catching in your chest as your body collapses to the floor. the cold tiles beneath you feel distant as your vision blurs, the last thing you see is geto standing above you, pouting as he watches the life drain from your body.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”