#i describe it as ��having a small stomach”
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sweetvanillafawn · 2 days ago
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Reasons I want to lose weight 🦢
To be able to wear whatever clothes I want and look good no matter what.
To Always look good in candid photos.
To be happy about what I see in the mirror.
To be the skinniest in any room I walk in.
To not have rolls when I sit down or have my thighs rub together.
To be described as “the skinny girl”.
To be smaller than my boyfriend.
To not have a big hump on the back of my neck.
To not have to suck in my stomach when I wear something tight.
To not have a dark neck.
To lose face fat.
To make people jealous of me.
To have pretty privilege.
To become thinspø
To not be jealous of other people weight
To not have people look at me weird when I eat.
To be cold all the time.
To have people worry about how skinny I’ve gotten.
To have my collarbone showing.
To have bangle bracelets not fit tight.
To not have a double chin.
To be picked up easily.
To be tinny next to people.
To have a flat stomach.
To change my shoe size.
To see my rib cage.
To see my hip bones protruding.
To have small clothes.
To have people ask me how I did it.
To be underweight.
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josephquinnswhore · 12 hours ago
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the day your heart stops yearning - pedro pascal x female reader
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summary: pedro is tired of the two of you dancing around your feelings for each other.
word count: 1.2k
content warnings: bitta jealously, insecurity from reader, mentions of sex, suggestive comments etc. Pedro is the loml I swear these new pictures have altered my brain chemistry.
Wrapping the towel around yourself tightly, you sit down as your swimsuit soaks through the material. Hair dripping wet and skin cooled down from the sea water. Pedro looked incredible, his hair wet and curly. Droplets of water running down his toned chest.
His board shorts tighten and stick to his thighs and crotch. Swallowing thickly, you help him put his sling back on to support his shoulder injury.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” His voice calls to you softly, drawing you out of your thoughts, every time you were with Pedro, you seemed to be lost in them. Somewhere far away from him.
There’s a moment's hesitation where you process what he’s said, reeling yourself back to the serenity around you. The two of you are on a small boat, surrounded by clear blue water, bright and mirroring the clearness of the sky. Not a cloud in sight.
There’s a formation of an unnaturally curved rock, shaped by erosion, perhaps the gods. The sight would’ve been worthy of such creation. Pedro was wearing nothing but his multi-coloured board shorts, and a deep blue sling.
“That doesn’t even come close to it. I can't describe how it feels to be here.”
With you.
But the words are lost, dying on the tip of your tongue as they had many times before. More often than not the two of you had done this, your own separate outing together aside from everyone, co-stars and friends.
“How’s your shoulder feeling?” The concerned murmur is met with a smile that he reserved for you. All teeth baring and eye wrinkles exposing themselves, the smile that reaches his eyes. His deep brown orbs aren’t much to be seen now, eyes squinted as he laughs.
“You’re worrying about me at a place like this?” He tilts his head, the one curl from his messy brown mop of hair falls onto his forehead, and he runs his hand through it, pushing the hair back off his skin.
He’d always found a way to lighten the mood, sending some kind of solemnness emitting from you today, he knew you better than anyone. The feeling had his insides clenching with anxiety.
It had been happening for years, the two of you having some unspoken moments where you couldn’t deny that there was a connection between you, something so effortless and heart wrenching at the same time. So many unspoken words and almost confessions.
“Hey,” he draws you out of your head again, lost in the fog of heartache and doubt.
He looked so good with Connie, that’s all you’d thought about since you’d flown to Malta with Pedro. They seemed so perfect for each other—the way he looked at her while he filmed their shared scenes. It felt real.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m just thinking about some things.” It was easy to brush off, or to pretend to anyway.
“Since when do you keep things from me? Somethings going on with you, come on, spill your heart to me honey.” Meeting his gaze, the brown orbs suck you into an intoxicating familiarity of the love you so desperately crave.
“Can this wait? I don’t want to ruin all of this.” Gesturing to the view, the lapping sound of the water against the side of the boat, the gentle rocking sensation sends your stomach spiralling into more unease.
“You aren’t ruining anything, talk to me.” Setting his can of beer down, he shuffles closer to you, placing his hand on your exposed thigh. “Talk to me.” He pleads again.
“I miss you.” The simply utter broke the silence between you, cutting through the background noise.
He knew what you meant. There hadn’t been much time for the two of you to see each other. Between filming for Gladiator II and the new Fantastic Four franchise. Yet—he knew it ran deeper than that.
You missed the picnics, the shared gazes of knowing and mutual love. The late night dancing and his hands running through your hair, the two of you unable to let go of one another.
The sex you miss, too. But not nearly enough as you crave for his skin on your own, for his hand in yours and his heart in your hands.
“Oh, sweetheart—“ he sounds so sweet, so sincere, but you cut him off anyway.
“Pedro.. don’t. We don’t need to do this today.”
He stares at you, wondering what’s happening in that head of yours.
“You know how I feel about you, right?” He murmurs, tracing unnamed shapes over your skin.
“I suppose so.” All he gets is an uncertain shrug from you.
He frowns, the stress lines on his face appear on his forehead. “My heart is yours, sweetheart.” He utters your name softly, fingers leaving your thigh to caress your cheek.
“What’s it matter how we feel? We can’t be together. You practically are married to the entire internet and it’s not practical for us to date.” Finally, he was getting to the root of it all.
“Fuck being practical,” he murmurs. “Tell me how you feel, just say it to me, I’ll do right by you.”
It feels like your throat is swelling up, preventing you from uttering the words you’ve longed to tell him for years. Somehow, you blurt them out in an anxious whisper.
“I love you.”
Before you could process the admittance of your love, he had pressed his own lips softly against yours. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but this time felt more authentic.
Your fingers caress his face, his facial hair tickles your fingers as you hold him against you, his nose is pressed into your cheek and it’s a little awkward. But your heart is pounding erratically in this moment, eyes closed and focusing on the feeling of his lips, his hand clutches the back of your neck.
After a few moments, he pulls away from you, pupils blown wide take up most of the mass around the deep brown iris. “I love you,” the whisper in return was made against your lips, his nose against your own.
“Tell me you’re mine, that we’re going to do this properly.” He pleads, he’s too close for you to look at anything but his eyes. The pleading gaze of hope in them.
“I want that, want you.”
The words aren’t lost on him, the entire afternoon is spent in seclusion, the two of you holding each other, kissing and wrapped around each other as if you were two halves of a whole.
Your fingers are white, lathered in sunscreen as you apply the substance on Pedro’s back. “We really should’ve done this hours ago.” You scold lightly, to which he laughs, shaking his head.
As you trace his back while you’re applying the sunscreen, making sure to cover all the freckles on his skin, and his arms as you trail down. Fingers running up the muscled limb as you return to the base of his neck to give a light massage.
He’s not subtle when it comes to how you made him feel, a loud breathy groan escapes his lips.
“Feel good?” The purr turns his cheeks red—he turns to you.
“Such a tease. If we weren’t in public you’d be in trouble.”
“Maybe we should head back to the hotel now then?”
He perks at your suggestion. The corner of his lip tugs upward in a slight smirk. Pleased with the idea of having you all to himself.
“My girls just got all the right ideas, don’t she?”
My girl—his girl. After years of pining and yearning over more from him, he’s given you the chance you’d dreamed of.
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jimmystrudel · 3 months ago
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Can my gorilla grip coochie and diaphragm please release me, I'd like to eat
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gojosprettyprincess · 2 months ago
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Hide n Fuck!!?
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Synopsis - A quick game of hide n seek quickly turns into a nasty game of hide n fuck with your step-brother Megumi
Warning! - Prone bone, stepcest, they fuck in the attic, degradation, praising, spiting, dirty talk, creampie, choking, breeding kink, Reader is 19 n Megumi is 21, They aren’t blood related. They got caught :0, they may be some grammar errors!! Please do not interact if this isn’t your cup of tea!! MDNI!! Oh he is Toji’s son alright.
Kinktober List ԅ(°Д°ԅ)
A/n - I’m so horny
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You didn’t think the day would come where you get to relive a cherishable childhood memory of playing one of your favorite games of all time. Playing a game of hide and seek with Megumi and his cousins—a game you never thought you’d play again considering the fact that you were 19 and what people would describe as "too grown" to be playing childish games like that but fortunately, some of Megumi’s family from his dad's side came over for a small family reunion so that’s what led to the evocation.
You sighed in disappointment after finding a well concealed spot to hide in the crowded attic—behind some large boxes in the corner that has been collecting dust for probably years now, just to be raided by Megumi, who joined you.
It was a pretty clandestine hiding spot but now the chances of getting caught has increased even more because it’s been proven to you throughout the years in your childhood that you’ve played the game that you're most likely to get caught quicker if someone else was hiding with you.
But soon enough all those apprehension flew right past your head once you were being fucked hard into oblivion by Megumi— he’s basically mounting you, his larger frame almost crushing your back as you lay on your stomach. Your ass arching up a bit to accommodate the amelioration of the angle. His curved dick sliding in and out of your gushing cunt with ease every time he humps himself into you. His pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass so lewdly, causing the flesh to jiggle like jello against him. Literally, all that could be heard were his loud breathing and occasional groans, your pathetic moaning and babbling a bunch of god knows what, along with the constant sounds of his meaty balls thwacking against your puffy clit—that’s practically wet and dripping with slick. It was actually so fucking nasty how wet you were, coating and drooling all over his cock with your aroused slick as your snugged pussy enveloped his mean cock.
“Fuck you hear how soaked she is for me? Such a little slut. You don’t care what the situation is, you just wanna get your little hole stuffed and fucked like a horny bitch, is that right?” his deep voice rasped against your ear, it was pretty hilarious to you that he was saying that when he was the one groping you from behind and kissing your neck while rubbing his hard bulge into your ass with your skirt hauled up just seconds after he joined you—basically the one to initiate what was happening in the first place. You weren’t even surprised though, Megumi always had a thing for sneaky fucking—An exhibition freak.
You moaned out like brainless slut, placing one of your hands on Megumi’s right hand, which is balled up into a fist to ground himself at the sides of your head. He was so close to you that you could smell the delicious scent of his cologne—sweet and minty, wafting straight into your nostrils, making your mind hazy.
“Gumiii” you whined, feeling your brains getting fucked out that you're just babbling nonsense at the point. “Hmm? What is it baby” he moved his head closer to yours, licking a long stripe on the side of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. "We need to ngh—Hur-ry, or we’ll get cccaught!” You yelped suddenly, biting your lips when you felt two of his lengthy fingers toying with your nipple, tugging and pinching the hard bud.
“Oh yeah? Then I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl f’me and be extra fucking quiet or would you rather let everyone see and hear you getting fucked dumb and stupid by your stepbrother’s cock?” His deep voice whispered in your ear, a tiny smirk plastered on the corner of his face that immediately made your pussy clenched even harder around his girth, Your jaw dropped as his cockhead kissed your cervix, making your eyes roll back in your head. It’s like every time he fucked his cock deeper and deeper into you, your mind goes clumsy and you turn into a brainless zombie.
There’s no way any one couldn’t hear the loud thumping noises and loud moans coming from the attic—there’s no way fucking way but by the way Megumi was being an arrogant lil shit and stretching your little pussy open with his cock so brutally to accommodate his size like this, making you moan uncontrollable as if he wants someone to hear and get caught, he doesn’t seem to give a shit.
“Fuckk wish I could suck on those pretty tits” he murmured as he fondled with your breast, groping and squeezing the soft flesh as you shiver slightly because of his cold hands. He quickly lets go and wraps his big hand over your throat, angling your head to look up at him, a dark glint beaming in his eye with a tiny smirk as he eyed your fucked out face. He watched as your face distorted in pleasure, his thick cock twitching in your pussy knowing that he was the reason for that. You opened your mouth, acquitting a loud pornographic moan, Megumi used that as a perfect opportunity to corrugate his lips, a loud “pff” sound ringing in your ears as you felt a thick substance hitting your tongue. “Swallow it now” he ordered nonchalantly, dark blue eyes piercing into your soul. You did as you were told and swallowed his spit, opening your mouth after to prove it to him.
“Mmm That’s a gooddd girl, fuckk this pussy s’good, imagine if I blow my load inside this pretty cunt and fill you up, bet you’d like that yeah? Wanna give your mom and Toji some snotty little grandkids?” He babbles maniacally in your ear as you go stupid, feeling your orgasm approaching.
He noticed. Hand enthralling harder around your neck as he buckled his hips against you roughly, pulling his thick cock out of you just to bully it right back into your tight hole faster knocking loud whimpers out of you. He quickly lets go of your neck, his hand snaking its way to your sticky clit, using three fingers to sloppily rub circles on it without any type of rhythm, if you weren’t fucked so dumb right now you might’ve actually had a chance to recognize the messy spelling of his name rubbing onto your clit. “Fuckkk—look at this greedy little pussy squeezing my cock like this, you gonna cum? You really gonna make a mess on your step-brothers dick? Fuck you’re suchhh a little slut, baby. He laughed while moaning, feeling your pussy milking his cock for his own release. Fuck he really is considering fucking a baby into you at this point, your pussy was driving him crazy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head so pathetically as you screamed his name, feeling your hole spasming around his length as you squirted on his cock and all over the floor. Wet squelching noises achoing against the thin wooden walls as he fucked the liquid out of you, steams of your pussy juice heaving everywhere.
“Shitt you squirted??Oh fuckfuckfuck, What a dirty bitch” he gritted his teeth, almost losing his mind. Oh he’s trying his best to hold onto the small amount of sanity he has left as his cock molds your hole perfectly, his thick girth sliding into your pussy painfully fast because of your wetness. His mean tip grazing against your g-spot perfectly that it made your toes curl. You can feel literally feel how much his cock was twitching and beating against your fluttery walls, His eyes screwed shut as he emptied his balls into your messy pussy, cum overflowing and pooling everywhere as he shot ropes of his seed into your womb.
“Holy fuckkk yeah you’re definitely hah—carrying my kid, woman” he groaned loudly, stilling himself inside of you for a bit to catch his breathe before picking himself up from your back to rest himself on the back of your thighs, his eyes fixated on the mess between your thighs. He bit his lips, slowly slipping his cock out of you as he watched as your mixed cum leaks out of you. You whined lowly feeling so stuffed full yet so empty at the same time without Megumi’s cock. You body fully collapsed on the floor, you were so fucked out you couldn’t even process anything as he slowly spread your cheeks, getting a better view of your ruined hole before slapping his dick on your cunt, he let it a low “fuck” as your juices splattered on him.
“Such a messy bitch” he muttered with low grunt, Slapping his soaked cock on your cheeks.
“Best little step-sister aren’t ya?” He smirks. About to open his mouth to speak again before the attic door flew open, causing the two of you to jolt unexpectedly—both eyes shooting open toward the source.
“GOT YAA-“ Yuji’s eyes quickly widen, mouth visibly dropped at the lewd scene in front of him. A horrific expression plastered on his face. Oh boy.
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gorgynei · 5 months ago
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fascinating parts from this brennan interview about downfall
downfall was recorded in one week and brennan described it as "one of the most intense roleplaying experiences [he's] ever had"
if avalir was showcasing the age of arcanum, downfall will showcase the actual calamity
even though avalir and aeor seem similar on paper, brennan says the stories could NOT be more different. the themes, player motivations/briefings, and genres are completely unique
downfall embraces the nuance and complexity (moral and otherwise) of the gods and digs into the idea that the gods "called a truce" to fell aeor and what that actually means
brennan says aeor actually has a large population of refugees from the calamity by the time downfall takes place. however, they didnt have a large impact on the city's architecture and so by the modern era their cultures and presence in aeor (and wider exandria) have been almost entirely lost
overall downfall seems to focus on the ways that small errors in history can change a lot
brennan describes his experience with dm'ing in exandria as "going into a sandbox and creating the toys you're gonna to play with there"
the population of aeor is "demographically meaningfully different from who was living in aeor at the height of the age of arcanum," according to brennan. basically, not every aeorian will have bolo's accent (sad)
aeormatons will be in downfall in some way
setting, plot, and character backstories were worked on in tandem
on a scale of 1 to 10 in terms of tragedy, brennan said downfall would need an entirely new axis. there is a "different kind of horror" in downfall, something that is distinct from "xenomorph chasing you horror"
brennan said "there are moments in downfall where i could feel my stomach wanting to drop out of my body"
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incognit0slut · 22 days ago
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Angel
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PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST
Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.
content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!
“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”
A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”
“I’m serious.”
“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”
His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."
“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”
“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”
“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”
His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”
“That’s kind of the point.”
And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.
How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?
Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.
He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.
Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.
Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.
It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.
The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.
Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.
His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.
“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”
“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”
“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”
“Then please enlighten me.”
Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.
“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”
Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”
“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”
The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.
“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us�� here?”
“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”
For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.
“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”
Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”
Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”
“Yeah.”
“As in… you have feelings for me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”
“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”
His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"
"To avoid traffic?"
You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."
His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”
“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."
He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.
“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."
A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.
“I'm… glad you finally caught on."
"I'm catching on now.”
His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.
“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.
There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.
“Since when?”
You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.
“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.
“Since?” he prompts again.
You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."
He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."
"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."
His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”
Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.
“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”
“Why not?”
“It’s embarrassing."
He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”
You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.
"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”
He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”
“The very first time.”
“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”
You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”
His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”
If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.
“You… thought about that?”
Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”
“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”
“Really?”
“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”
You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”
Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”
“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”
His jaw clenches.
He’s so close to completely losing it.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.
“Why.. why not?”
“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.
“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.
“I do,” you manage to say.
“You want me that way?”
You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”
The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.
“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."
"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."
His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”
When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.
Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.
He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.
“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."
Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”
He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”
“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”
He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”
“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”
He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.
“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”
He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.
"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."
"Here's another thing you should know about me.”
He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.
A heartbeat in between.
“I really like it rough."
That’s all it takes.
He slams his hips into yours.
Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.
“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.
Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.
"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”
You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.
Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”
He lets out a sigh.
No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?
What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?
He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.
He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.
You’re an angel wrapped in sin.
“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”
You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.
“Spencer…”
His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.
“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”
“Ngh.”
Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.
He needs to feel it more than once.
He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.
You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.
“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”
Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.
“I want to.”
And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.
Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.
“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”
Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?
You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.
It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.
It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.
His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”
You can barely feel your legs.
“Speechless,” is your answer.
His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”
“Please.”
A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”
You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”
“About taking advantage of you.”
You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.
And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.
“Say it again.”
He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.
“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”
He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.
You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.
“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.
You shake your head. “I begged for this.”
He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”
A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.
Angel, angel, angel.
He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.
The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.
His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.
Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.
He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”
You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.
“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”
Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.
When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.
His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.
He slides two fingers inside you.
Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”
He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”
Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.
“Spencer…”
He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”
The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.
He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.
If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.
Spencer smiles wryly to himself.
Since when did he become so religious?
Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.
“…no more.”
He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.
Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.
Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.
“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”
With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”
He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”
You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”
He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”
Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”
He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”
“Which part? You said a lot of things.”
“You know what I mean,” he insists.
“I know. But I want to hear it again.”
The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”
“Everything?”
“Every single part of you.”
You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”
His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”
“But... what if it changes things for her?”
“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."
You mull over his words. “You think so?”
“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”
He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.
He almost said it. He almost called you angel.
“What?”
He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.
And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.
But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.
He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.
He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.
And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.
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maccreadysbaby · 1 year ago
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Some of My Favorite Ways to Describe a Character Who’s Sick
pressing their forehead into something cool or comfortable (this could be an array of things. the table, the floor, someones leather jacket, their water bottle, the countertop)
warm to the touch, or heat radiating from them (could be noticed if someone’s gauging their temperature with their hands, hugging them, or just generally touching them)
leaning into people’s touch, or just spontaneously leaning on them (like pressing into their hand when someone’s checking their temp, or just, like, literally walking up and laying their head on them from fatigue. bonus points if the character is usually feral and the other is scared to engage™︎)
falling asleep all over the place (at the dinner table, on their homework, in the car, in the bathroom — just being so exhausted from doing literally nothing)
being overly emotional (crying over things that don’t usually bother them, like their siblings arguing, or their homework, or literally just nothing)
stumbling/careening/staggering into things (the wall, furniture, other people. there is no coordination in feverish brains. running into chairs, hitting the door, falling over the couch, anything and everything)
slurring their words (could be from fatigue or pain. connecting words that shouldn’t be connected, murdering all of their conversations with the excessive use of ‘mm’ and ‘nn’ in place of words) (this is my favorite thing ever)
being overly touchy (basically like a sick kid — just hold them, please. do that thing where you brush their hair back out of their face, or rub circles on their back, or snuggle them. they won’t care. bonus points if this is also the feral character and they refuse to believe it afterwards)
being extremely resistant to touch (flinching away when they usually don’t so someone can’t feel the fever, not letting themselves be touched because they’re so tired they just know they’ll be putty in their hands if they do)
growing aggressive or being extremely rude (it’s a defense mechanism — they feel vulnerable and are afraid of being manipulated or deceived while they’re ill)
whimpering/whining/groaning (this was in my “characters in pain” post but it’s so good that i’m putting it here too. this shite is gold, especially if it’s just an involuntary reaction to their symptoms)
having nightmares caused by a fever and/or delirium (crying and murmuring in their sleep, or being awake but completely out of it and convinced they’re somewhere else)
making themselves as small as possible (curling up into a ball everywhere they lay, hunching over slightly when standing, wrapping their arms around themselves)
TW for vomiting below cut !!
sleeping in the bathroom floor because they keep getting sick over and over (bonus if someone finds them all weak and pitiful. bonus bonus if they find them there in the morning only to learn they’ve been there all night)
using their hands/other body parts to clamp over their mouth so nothing can come out (like pulling their knees up to their chest and using that, or like, their arm, y’know) (~maccreadysbaby who has emetophobia suddenly gets very awkward about this post~) (~yes i have a phobia of puke and still write this happening to my characters, shut up~) (~it’s about the hurt/comfort okay~)
sympathy pukers (people who aren’t the sick ones but get nauseous/vomit when they see someone else throw up) (~aka me~) (~okay I’m done now~)
dry heaving (it’s gross, but good for making your characters absolutely freaking miserable)
rolling/churning/spinning/cramping/ lurching and all those awesome words that describe what stomachs do when sick (i hate these words with a deep, fiery passion. but they’re good for writing or whatever)
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 4 months ago
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Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
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Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..
A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀
Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.
If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..
"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..
"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..
"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.
Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..
...
"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.
"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.
"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.
You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.
You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.
"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.
He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..
It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.
How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.
At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle
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ramonathinks · 1 year ago
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Say His Name | SUKUNA
Say his name three times and he shall appear, fucking virgins before he disappear.
tags: (18+, minors and ageless blogs dni) corruption, virginity loss, monster-fucking, double cocks, mouth fucking, pet names (pet, my human, female), oral(f! receiving), handjobs, nipple play, fingering, creampies, copious amounts of cum, tummy bulge, sex in sukuna’s domain, overstimulation, mirror sex
notes: early i did originally plan an entire kinktober but lol (18+ banner/divider made by @/cafekitsune. repost from my first ever kinktober 🥂
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“SUKUNA, SUKUNA, SUKUNA.” Call it childish for believing in such tales. But you wanted it to be true. Looking in the darkly lit bathroom of your dorm bathroom you groaned, blowing the candle out. You flipped the light switch back on.
You’d been hearing about it all year. But you should’ve known better than to believe a silly little legend like this. But you were a blushing and bubbling mess of a virgin. So hearing of some mysterious sexy man who fucks virgins with no strings attached seemed too good to be true and you just had to test this theory. But really you should’ve known better. You were too old to believe in such things but you were all dolled up just for him.
You’d been waiting until everyone on your floor was gone and you put on your best and sexiest lingerie. You weren’t expecting to wear this for such a man that everyone has described but you were ready. You were thinking maybe for a boy who’s eventually won your heart you’d wear this to give yourself away.
Your hair was down in a medium length silk press, wearing puffy pink ugg slides and a short pink fuzzy nightgown that hugged every inch of your body, amplifying your busty breast all for show. You even went with no panties.
All for him.
All for a no show.
Sighing, you reached for your shower caddy and got prepared to wrap your hair.
But a deep chuckle from behind, startled you. Every fiber in your being was begging you not to turn around. Your stomach clutching with a sense of fear and your mouth running dry.
“Little human.” His voice alone had you shaking but surprisingly it wasn’t all just fear, something else deep inside, something not so pure filled your body. Lust. You were still too afraid to look at him, your knees growing weak as he continued to speak.
“Too scared to turn around but all dolled up just for me. I can practically smell your sweet nectar from here.” He purred, his breath on your neck and you could feel the warmth of his body heat all over you. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Taking his tongue, he licked up your ear before biting your lobe. “I could smell how sweet you are even before I got here. I couldn’t believe how delectable you smelled.” With hard hands, he softly grasped both of your breasts.
You released a small yelp with such surprise but your tummy fluttered. “Oh, my little human likes that…” He took note, pressed hot kisses against your neck. Squeezing your breast. With rough hands he stroked your nipples until they grew hard.
You were letting him have his way with you and you still hadn’t even seen his face. You moaned when you felt the soft drag of his claws, tugging at your gown.
“Tell me how badly you like my touch female…or I might just stop.” He pressed his hips into yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he was. “Don’t you want my cocks?” His voice was laced with something unfamiliar, he pressed his nose in your hair and did a quick inhale.
Desire pooled in your belly whenever he talked. “C-cocks?” You squealed. “I… I don’t think I can handle such a thing…” You muttered, trying to move away from him, keeping your eyes trained on your feet.
“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw in his fingers and forced your eyes to the mirror. Your pussy clenched against nothing when you saw his face. He was truly a beautiful demonic man. With sharp teeth and dark eyes that ate up your entire figure. There was colorful dark markings over his face and a sickening grin on his lips when he noticed you staring so hard. His spiked pink hair looked so soft that you wanted to pet him. “You desire is all in the air,” His told you. “Let me please you, my little human.”
“W-wait! I-um…” Your voice was hoarse and completely choked out as you stuttered, trying to find any excuse.
“You wish to deny me this?” He palmed your pussy. Dragging his hand all over the mound before trailing lower. “You are truly ravishing… in all these places.” You we’re panting and hanging on to every word he spoke, opening your thighs wider so he can feel you.
“Tell me…beg me…” His hand ran down lower, inching closer and closer towards your puffy clit.
Then he pulled away.
It was awful and your body felt cold, you even almost tripped over yourself, to which he chuckled. “Why did you st—”
Pressing his hot lips to yours he kissed you, squeezing your ass and adding his tongue. His tongue was sucking and sliding in every inch of your mouth, you could barely breathe. It felt so long and so deep, almost like he was in your throat. “I want you to beg me for my touch, I know you want it… so beg for it, or you won’t get it.” He said as he pulled away, drool on the corner of his mouth.
“Please…touch…me…” You forced the words he wanted to hear out. “I want your fingers, your tongue, your…cocks.” You whimpered a deep pout on your lips. He smiled at your honesty and he clipped your lingerie down with his claws in one swift motion.
His thumb caressed your folds softly and he groaned watching the wetness drip to the floor. Slipping one finger inside, you gasped, holding on to his wrist and grinding down a bit. Loud squelching noises filling the air every time he pushed in a bit deeper. “Tight little thing. All for me.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips once he spread your folds open.
“Pretty little pearl.” He rasped before taking it in his mouth. Your hips buckled and thrashed against his face, your moans echoing and bouncing off the walls. He added another finger, hard. Slamming them both inside of you, stretching you wide. So much cream and slick ran down your thighs, he pumped faster inside of you.
Both of his cocks were leaking and aching but all he could think about was your pussy and just how good it taste. He groaned with his eyes closed, spreading his fingers inside as you sobbed above him.
“Please, please…” He didn’t know what you were begging for. He sucked, putting his entire mouth on you, licking up and down your sensitive clit. He pressed deep kisses before removing his fingers from your insides. He dipped his tongue deep inside of your tightness and he felt you tighten up, fisting your hand in his hair, rocking your hips.
“Sukuna!” Your eyes were filled with tears as he moaned for more of your virgin taste on his tongue. Hearing his name on your tongue had him throbbing but he resisted touching himself — wanting only to come in your tight pure virgin body.
“I’m going to— ah.” Your body snapped and shook but he continued to feast on your insides, his long tongue hitting all your sensitive spots and every muscle, you came around his tongue and he welcomed everything you gave him. Your walls fluttered against his tongue and your hands grabbed even deeper into his hair, toes curling and small sniffles filling the room.
He placed his tongue back to your sore clit and gave it a few more sucks before he smirked up at you, the pretty noises still in your throat as you tried your hardest to be quiet. Looking up at you with such desire that you felt yourself shrinking. “I was waiting so long for you…” He told you, standing to his full height. “Don’t know if I can let you go this time…”
You didn’t understand. You were still reeling down from such an orgasm. He inhaled against your neck. “Pretty little human. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Too precious.” He took your lips again and you closed your eyes deeply, gripping his arm as you tasting yourself on his tongue.
When you finally pulled back and opened your eyes, you didn’t know where you were. All darkness surrounded you, dimly lit candles and a beautifully made canopy bed with dark sheets. You could see some sort of throne in the other part of this dark place, which took up almost the entirety of that space. The room seemed to go on forever, almost endless. You felt empty, he wasn’t there anymore. Confusion bled through your mind until you felt him take your hand, dragging you to the bed.
“What did you mean… with what you said moments ago?” You swallowed, trying not to look him in the eyes. But those deep red eyes made it almost too hard to do that. He stared you down before pushing you down to the bed.
“It means you’re mine. All mine.” His hot tongue trailed down your neck and it burned you, your weak legs thrusting against him. He lowered his hips flush against yours and you could feel just how big and thick his cocks were, it was almost disgusting how badly you wanted them. He sniffed and did a devilish grin at you. “Why fight it? You called me here. I have you. Don’t tell me you’re still scared… I won’t hurt you.” He promised.
The way his eyes held such sincerity you couldn’t look away. The flimsy material he wore, slipped off and you got a glimpse of everything he was hiding from you. The rippling abs and those dark marks similar to the ones on his face, you could feel yourself leaking when your eyes drifted to the pretty cocks he possessed.
Throbbing and veiny. Angry red tips coded in leaking creamy pre-cum. You didn’t mean to but you licked your lips and he groaned in your ear: “Female, it looks like you want to taste my cocks…” More pre-cum dripped down and you were panting at the sight, something coming over you. With a trembling hand, you reached out between you both and gripped the base of one, he twitched in your hand but you didn’t stop your assault.
He was thick. You couldn’t imagine doing this to both of his cocks at the same time, you needed both of your hands just to cover just one of them. He thrusted his hips upward, sliding himself through your hands with strained moments. He didn’t want to cum, only wanted it to be inside of you but fuck, this was heaven.
You stroked him, nice and slow. Feeling every bit of him and keeping your clouded eyes on his, both of your breathings harsh and in sync, hot and turned on. Rubbing your thumb on the tip, you watched as a bit more liquid leaked out, slipping between your hands.
“Knees. Now.” He rasped, he needed to be in your tight little mouth now. He needed it. You barley had time to move before he was thrusting himself inside of your mouth. “Fuck…ing, pretty little mouth.” He muttered, thrusting his hips harshly in and out of your mouth. His other cock begging for attention, you squeezed it hard and be released a beautiful moan continuing his rhythm.
Swallowing around him, he bellowed. “Fuck!” He had manners and didn’t want to mess up his female’s hair but he wanted you to take him deeper into your mouth. Pulling you slightly by your hair, he buried himself deeper into your mouth. Bucking his hips, you slid your mouth up and down — saliva covering his length — then you lapped at the tip, rubbing your mouth on it before slipping him back into your throat. Moaning around his cock, then you decided to switch to his other cock.
He was amazed and his toes were curling, watching you. He could see just how much of him was buried in your throat. He could hear the amount of sucking and slurping and you still had time to fondle his balls.
He was going to cum. He could feel it in the pits of his belly. Sweet moans leaving your mouth and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep groan, he pulled you flush to his hips and came deep inside of your mouth, his other cock jerking and spasming — raining cum on your face.
He looked at your cum splattered face and his cocks grew hard again and he knew the perfect way to end the night. “Need to be inside of you, now.” He didn’t want anything to stop him. He didn’t clean you off or anything, he wanted to fuck you as filthy and dirty as you looked.
And he would.
He pulled down your panties and looked at your leaking cunt. Smiling in delight, “All this just from sucking my cocks…naughty girl.” He lined up both of his cocks to your small hole.
“Both of them?!” You squealed with wide eyes. “They can’t both fit…” You swallowed hard and he did a roar of heavy laughter.
“Gonna just stretch you out with this one,” He rubbed his throbbing tip along your slippery glistening folds as you cried out. “Then once you’re all full, gonna add my other cock and make you cum all night, my little human.”
He lined himself back against your tight heat, almost slipping inside, he eyed your face before he thrusted forward and buried himself inside of your virgin flesh. Your nails were digging into him as you screamed, it hurt bad.
He was so massive inside of you and your walls wouldn’t let him go, clinging to him. “So damn tight.” He groaned, his hips snapped and with each thrust he was able to get deeper and deeper.
He couldn’t bare to look at you, hearing your small sniffles was hard enough. He wanted this pleasurable for you. His fingers were fast on their way to your little clit that was already throbbing for his attention, he pressed two of them against you and felt you roll your hips against his with a sharp moan, “Ah!”
He did a few sloppy thrust, his balls hitting the cusp of your ass and he could tell that you were feeling good based off how you were reacting. “Please make me cum.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Now with a newer angle he pressed deep into a gooey wetness that had your tongue out and you squeezing his cock even better than before.
He slammed his cock inside of you, now going at any intense speed. Rocking his hips into yours, trying to hit your sweet spot again. He pressed deeper inside of you, bottoming out. “Say my name.” He told you, softly against your lips before claiming them. His thrust going hard and reckless, stretching you out.
You felt so full, he reached down and jerked his other cock. Squeezing the tip and continuing to thrust faster, rocking the bed. “Say my name.” He said again, his hips slamming down on yours. He felt heavy inside of you and you couldn’t focus on him, drowning in a warmth of endless pleasure.
He bucked his hips and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up — to look into the mirror above you, watching yourself getting fucked before saying again: “Say my name.” This time annoyed and with a growl.
“Sukuna!” He pumped his cock inside of your little pussy, stretching it just for him and thrusting more — the hold your cunt had on his cock made him bite his lip when he withdrew himself slightly before slamming back inside.
Your eyes roll back when his tip hits your special spot again and your moans has him in a chokehold, “Sukuna, right there, please… again.” You arch your back and he grips your waist, pushing you back down into the mattress.
With a last long thrust, he fills your cervix with creamy cum that leaks out of you. His other cock bobbling before spraying you down as well, you clench around him for the final time and almost breathlessly you say his name again.
Body weak and your eyes fluttering. He pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips.
“My little human stuffed with my cum.” He purrs, wrapping a strong arm around you and you say something that he can’t hear as you drift and drift…
And drift to sleep.
10K notes · View notes
beanlot · 15 days ago
Text
ellie, who uses a vibrator on you for the first time, and just can’t get e-fucking-nough.
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wc: 2.2k (smut + light fluff)
─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───
“the fuck is that?” you hum from the crook of her neck after having examined the small toy, and it rests in her palm, her voice a little shaky from nerves. “okay.. so.. uh.. this little guy, helps stimulate certain areas..”
“this little guy?” you repeat her words with a playful smirk, pupils dilated with adoration when you look at her, resplendent enough that she can see her flustered expression reflecting back at her when she maintained that eye contact.
“yeah, this little guy..” she has a teasing smile to her, which only amplifies the pooling anticipation in your stomach.
“turn it on. turn it on.” you eagerly whisper against her neck, your lips still numb from your previous make-out, tingling from her savoured taste. after a few seconds of tampering with the remote, you hear a silent whirring. “alright.. says here that this is the lightest level. ‘n then..” she mumbles, and the whirring intensifies into a jarring buzz.
“i see..” you mumble as you watch the toy convulsing in her palm, and you touch it, your fingertips shivering intensely upon the metallic. “damn.”
but whilst your eyes are inspecting it, her eyes are plastered onto you, eyes brimming with desire. lust. hunger. you don’t notice it, you just feel her seductive breath on your cheek; her inviting whisper following shortly after.
“let me.. please?”
you slowly turn your head to look at her, noting her low lids and desperately parted lips that beg for your acceptance. you don’t answer, admiring her features as it fuels the fluttering in your chest and the cudgelling of your heartbeat against your ribs.
you want it. you want her so bad.
“it’ll feel good, baby.. i’ll try..” her whisper is a plead, delicate kisses peppering your jawline so seductively as she guides the device to your chest. your breath is unregulated, shaky with her intuitive touches.
you sigh, when she grazes it over your clothed nipple, the vibration a pleasure on your breast. “it tickles.” you breathily laugh, your stomach shuddering along with the device.
“tickles?” she laughs against your lips, smooching at the corner of them amorously. her elbow propping herself up, and you watch as she grazes it repeatedly over your nipple; watching as the fabric starts raising slightly when it hardens.
the vibrations start teasingly streamlining down to your underwear, wetness so evident when your clothed slit engulfs the metal.
“gonna put it on your clit, my love..” she whispers, as if she’s asking for your permission, your guidance.
her breath ghosts your cheek as her gaze focuses on your thighs - the heaven between them. the way your dripping cunt swallows it, blissful sensations on your swollen and clothed clit when she applies pressure.
“oh..” you whisper shakily, your hips instinctively and subtly rutting into it. because you want more.
“oh?” she repeats, eyebrows arching momentarily. she experiments, fingertips guiding the device - circling, tapping and grazing your clit.
it’s when she pulls the dampened fabric to the side, holding the vibrator down onto your hood that you seem rather eager. “wait. keep it-keep it there.” you sigh, thighs twitching. you feel your core tightening, clit pulsing with it's own lustrous heartbeat, and your hips subconsciously rolling into it. “keep it-there..”
“feels good, baby?” her lips subtly turn upwards into something you could only describe as a snarky smirk, tongue resting between her teeth.
you’re focused, ankles quivering and your abdomen tensing repeatedly from the ecstasy. you hear her mumble again through the concentration, her irises narrowed at your body’s reaction. “shaking so much, holy shit.”
your breathing is a little jagged, and you’re clutching at her wrist, making sure she doesn’t move or mettle up that teasing courage of hers to deny you what you so desperately want need. “just don’t move it..” you gasp, your back arching into the vibrations.
you scan her features through the haze; pretty verdant eyes tainted with desire, the fruitful shape of her lips, and that fucking scar slicing her eyebrow. she's wearing that stupid black shirt you like so much, and has that stupid hairstyle you love. “you’re so hot..” you whisper faintly, impulse that reflects your innate need to finish spilling out. “i’m gonna-fuck. i’m gonna ride your fucking face after this..”
“yeah?” she arches her eyebrows, voice a pitch higher, as if she’s challenging you. mocking you, even.
“uh huh.. gonna-i’m gonna-“ you try to think of what to say, but nothing other than your whimpering blither seeping from your helpless lips. and so she interrupts you,
“gonna what, baby?” she whispers, and you know for sure now - she's definitely mocking you. you look down to her hand between your thighs; watching the tendons that manifest her slender wrist start to twitch, those admirable veins framing her knuckles.
your impending orgasm is obvious by how tremulous your body reacts, her fingers amping up the vibrations as she presses it deeper onto your clitoral hood.
"oh, that's it. just let go, feel it.." she whispers, her free hand slithering down to your tremoring hip, measuring up the clenching and troubled muscles within them. her mouth is watering, she doesn't realise it until she swallows back her saliva.
she wants nothing more than to suck at your clit, coat you with her, slurp up your taste so disgustingly that you wouldn't be able to look at her the same tomorrow.
her free hand glides towards your slit, your thick juices coating her slim fingers so seductively. you hear her hum, a low and guttural moan, as you feel one of them slew inside your hole. it contracts so welcomingly around her finger, and it's so easy for her to slide another in.
"m sorry, baby.. i should've asked.." she whispers when she hears your troubled whine, but its not troubled in the sense you don't want it, it's troubled in the sense that you've never understood how fucking good it feels to be stuffed with her fingers.
so you shake your head with difficulty, trying to notion to her that it's fine, she can do as she pleases.
so she teasingly twines them upwards, feeling the harsh vibrations of the toy on your clit internally against your walls. "you feel that?" she asks softly, her voice silk.
"more.. just-just a little more.." you exhale unstably, so desperate to feel her against your most sensitive nerves, so guiding and patient with her. she takes your words, absorbs them with gratitude.
"more, my love.. i got you.." she's also unsteady with her breath, and just like your desperation, she's desperate to impress.
you feel her curl further against your spongy and quivering walls, eyes rolling back as she gradually fucks you with her fingers. "like that, pretty girl?"
"uh huh.. uh-like that.. like-oh fuck, ellie, baby-"
she can tell you're gonna come by how choked up your breaths are, and how rigid your body feels under her hands. "nice and easy, nice and easy.." she whispers, and you suddenly feel her wet tongue on your stomach, streamlining up to your abdomen and leaving a trail.
you can hear your own thighs walloping against her hand, your cunt squelching with every appreciative pump of her fingers. and ellie does what ellie does best, she talks you through it.
"thas' it, feel what i'm doing to you. just relax.."
"you whining for me?”
and it's suddenly too much, your eyes rolling back and head digging further into the fleecy pillow. "please please please please-" you're begging, pleading like a whore for it. you feel her tongue lick selfishly at your sternum, your shirt riding up and the air whipping against your piping hot skin.
when you look down to watch her tongue start relentlessly flicking at your nipple, her eyes dreamily shut, the sneezelike sensation in your core possesses everything in your body.
you're coming so aggressively, back arching into her as she keeps the vibrator on your messy folds - only this time, grazing it directly over your overstimulated clit, her fingers still urging you to your overbrimming limit.
you're whining like a mess, how she likes it.
she’s trying to hold you down, or at least stabilise you when you come, her fingers seeping out of your cunt and clutching at your shaking hips.
"i know it feels good, i know.." she murmurs against your skin, goosebumps littering your chest and arms. her fingers are glossed with your cum, thumb tracing patterns into your waist.
you’re trembling so much that she keeps losing grip.
she decreases the vibrations drastically to aid your oversensitivity, but keeps the device buried against your clit; your underwear slowly going back over your drenched slit as she lets go.
you’re confused at first, shuffling around uncomfortably when you feel your underwear soak up your cum, your clit still getting ambushed from the low vibrations.
but she’s not one to disappoint, stripping off her sweatpants and her bare thighs smoothing against yours as she situates her bare and drooling cunt against you.
your thigh is hoisted against her clothed abdomen, and you can feel the dips of her lanky muscle contract slightly. she’s worked herself up.
“ride my face in a minute, baby— i just.. i need this..” she sighs urgently, feeling the wetness of your underwear; she’s thirsty for it, dehydrated for it.
her clit is purple and erect, subtly grinding against your underwear, the vibrations humming through the fabric and stimulating her so divinely. the tone in her arms and the impulsive rolling of her hips, her stomach rubbing against your bare and piping hot thigh.
fuck, you like her using you like this. so selfish, self-serving.
you’re starting to uncontrollably tremor again, her movements forcing the vibrator against your overwhelmed clit. “i’ll be quick, pretty—i’ll be quick-“ she gasps, delectable lips parted.
her rutting hips are becoming sloppier, the bed frame starting to rock against the wall and creak.
“ellie—ellie, please- please hurry, it’s too much..” you whine, because the overstimulation is too shattering for you to orgasm again. but you’re trying to cherish the high of watching her face scrunch from abundant pleasure and yearning, the prize of hearing her guttural whimpers.
and it’s all so worth it, the torture of sensory overload, when her thighs start quivering against yours. her fingers clenching your thigh so frantically, her frenzied state erupting as she orgasms.
“mmph-holy shit-‘mm baby—“ she gasps, lips parted erotically against your knee, the adrenaline forcing her fingers to twitch around your thighs.
she’s still rutting against you, bathing through the last remaining ripples of her orgasm, before she takes note of your raw state. her fingers are delicate, sliding your swamped underwear down your legs and turning the vibrator off. it’s submerged in your cum, sweat and enjoyment.
“are you okay? was that too much?” she asks softly, hands gently squeezing your kneecaps in reassurance. she’s not sure why, but now that her impulsive drive to finish on your vibrating pussy is satisfied and fulfilled, she has some worried aftertaste on her tongue.
worried that she pushed your boundaries, or didn’t consider your feelings.
“no, you idiot. that was-“ you sigh, covering your dazed eyes with your arm. “that was so fucking hot.”
you hear her relieved laugh, and it’s silent for a few seconds. nothing but the sound of the light drizzles of rain outside, the balance of your relaxed and seduced breaths.
“still wanna ride my face, ma’am?” you hear her ask, not ignoring the tinge of hope in her tone. and so you laugh, looking up at her. she has a hue of mauve under her eyes, bags bags that demonstrate her careless sleep schedule.
but she’s stunning. and she makes those eyebags annoyingly sexy.
“i always wanna ride your face..” you mumble, unable to resist the spirited smile that tugs your lips upwards when you see the rosiness in her face bloom. she’s excited, she’s a loser for it.
“but.. maybe.. in the shower.. i’m like—“ you mumble, sluggishly sitting up, discomfort when you look down and see thick strings of your arousal between your thighs. “i’m hot, and sweaty, and gross.”
you look at her, and you’re strangely flustered by how she maintains eye contact. it’s out of character, even for ellie, but she’s jumped through the hurdles of being awkward with you.
all of the timidity and shyness has been bleached; she looks at you with such intimate love. “okay.. fine by me, ma’am..” she nods, lazily blinking through her infatuation.
and for the first time, it’s you that can’t uphold the eye contact. your eyes darting anywhere but hers - her collarbone, freckled cheeks fanned by her lashes, those admirable hands that are still resting on your knees.
they trace tender and doting patterns into your shins, nails that tickle and gently scratch your skin.
and when you look back up, she’s still gazing, nailing that romantic and worshipping gaze straight through you.
fuck, stop looking at me like that, williams.
“i love you..” you whisper, hands resting on her shoulders, before gliding up to cup her cheeks. her skin is also piping hot. “you’re so good to me.”
she looks calm on the outside, but on the inside, it’s absolute fucking havoc. her heartbeat hammering against her chest, eyes softening, and her hands reluctantly hovering above yours.
her palms rest on your wrists, and she slowly tilts her head to kiss your fingers, unblinking eyes that are still staring at you. her whisper is faint, anticipatory, and vanilla.
“i love you more, pretty..”
3K notes · View notes
jaegerbby · 1 year ago
Text
➳ inculpatus
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--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 5800
╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.
╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.
not proof read!
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he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.
"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.
"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.
sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.
"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."
he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."
you perk up immediately.
"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.
you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.
your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.
his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.
he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.
it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.
"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?
he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.
"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.
he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.
"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.
your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.
your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.
"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.
your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.
his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.
the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.
"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.
you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.
"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.
you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.
you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.
the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.
he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.
your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.
the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving
"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.
you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.
his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.
you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.
"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.
it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.
"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.
he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.
his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.
"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.
a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.
"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.
he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.
"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.
he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.
when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.
your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.
your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.
"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.
you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.
when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.
"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.
like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.
he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.
your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.
there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.
he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.
you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.
his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.
"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.
"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.
he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."
he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.
you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.
"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.
your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.
"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.
he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.
"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.
you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.
it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.
his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.
you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.
"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.
the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.
your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.
your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.
squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.
"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.
satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.
your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.
he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.
your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.
no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.
your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.
satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.
satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.
"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.
the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.
satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.
your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.
you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.
"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.
"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.
"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.
his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.
he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress. 
"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.
the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.
"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.
he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.
"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.
"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.
satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.
"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.
satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.
"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.
"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.
"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."
his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.
your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.
you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.
you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.
his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.
yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.
the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.
he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.
you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.
when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.
your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.
"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.
finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.
he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.
satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.
you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.
he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.
"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.
"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.
"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.
his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.
"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.
his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.
"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.
"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.
the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.
"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.
"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.
"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.
he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.
you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.
your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.
"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.
he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.
"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.
"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.
satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.
you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.
he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?
"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.
you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.
you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.
"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.
you are his, you are all his. you have to be.
he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.
he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.
"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.
satoru cannot get enough of you.
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alexiroflife · 3 months ago
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Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤
“promise”
toji fushiguro x reader
Synopsis: see above
to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt
WC: 5,668
Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion
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You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.
Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.
You’re pregnant.
You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.
You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.
But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.
And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.
You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?
You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.
His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.
“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”
“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”
“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”
You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.
Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?
It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?
You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.
Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.
Not the way you have.
Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.
…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.
Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.
You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.
Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.
You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.
You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.
It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.
The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.
And therefore, you know what you have to do.
After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.
But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.
You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.
It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.
The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?
He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.
His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.
He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.
Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”
His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.
Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.
He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:
This isn’t working out.
Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.
“What the hell did you do?” he growls.
The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.
Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?
Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.
Dear Toji,
This is not working out.
But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.
But in this case, that love is not enough.
I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.
By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.
Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.
Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.
And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.
You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.
With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.
Love,
Your doll
You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.
You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.
Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.
Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.
But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.
You shift. “What are you doing here-“
“What the fuck is this?”
Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.
“Toji, I told you not to come…”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.
“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.
“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”
Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.
“…I am,” you mumble.
Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”
“I said… I am.”
“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.
“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.
“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”
He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.
“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”
“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”
“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”
Your face falls. “…what?”
“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”
You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”
Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.
You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”
“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.
“Toji!” you exclaim.
“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”
“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”
“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.
“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”
“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.
“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”
“No, Toji.”
“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”
“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”
“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”
“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.
You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.
“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”
You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”
“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”
“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.
“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”
You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.
“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”
Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.
“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”
“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”
“I know, but-“
“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”
You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.
“Out with it, now.”
You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.
“(Y/n)!”
“I’m pregnant!”
The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.
You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.
His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.
He’s going to leave you.
You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”
“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.
“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”
He twitches. “Hold on-“
“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”
“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”
He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”
“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”
“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”
“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.
Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”
“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“
“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”
“No, but I want you to have what you want.”
“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”
You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”
“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”
“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”
“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”
You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“
“I don’t wanna hear it.”
Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.
He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.
“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”
“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”
A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”
“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”
You nod meekly. “Okay.”
He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”
“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.
“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”
2K notes · View notes
alexthetrashyracoon · 8 months ago
Text
Simon loves you. He adores you. He worships you.
You love Simon. You adore Simon. You worship Simon.
That’s one thing you two have in common.
The other thing is that you two hate your own bodies.
You hate the fat on your belly and the fat of thighs that make every jeans you wear too tight. You hate how slabby your arms are when you wave at someone and wear a t-shirt. You hate the stretch mark on your stomach and under your arms, around your thighs. You hate the little double chin you’ve gotten over the years and can’t get rid off, no matter how hard you try.
Simon on the other hand hates how rough his body is, how firm and hard. He hates the scars all his years in the military had left behind. He hates how there is always a reminder of a bad past, one where you didn’t have a place just yet. He hates how calloused his hands are, from years of punching people or holding weapons. He hates that no matter how hard he tries, he always is a bit too rough, never too much to hurt you, but it’s not easy to relax.
So one of these days, your parents invited you and Simon over for brunch and you agreed to go. But now you’re standing before the full body mirror and stare at the tight shirt you chose to wear, you swore the last time you had it on it wasn’t like this. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes as you squeeze the pouch of fat on your belly.
That’s when Simon walks inside. He’s dressed casually, jeans and shirt. He looks good, handsome. But as always he hides most of his body behind long sleeves and pants.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispers into your head, wrapping his arms around your waist to take your hands away from the small pouch. “You’re gorgeous, sweet, sexy. There are a million words I could say to describe you, but they won’t be enough. You’re perfect, the way you are.” Simon says softly, looking into your eyes through the reflection of the mirror.
You believe him.
Because you might hate yourself but you love Simon.
Simon is the same. He believes you when he stands at the sink and looks at his scarred hands. Those hands aren’t made to love someone, they are made to kill and destroy. Those hands aren’t meant to touch someone as pure as you.
That’s when you walk into the bathroom. You see him, hate and disgust in his blue eyes.
You place your smaller hands on top of his before taking them and placing his hands on your cheeks. Smiling softly.
“Your hands are made to protect, you save not just me but many people. They are gentle and kind. You are gentle and kind. You aren’t a machine that’s made to kill. You are perfect, just as you are.”
And Simon believes you.
Because Simon might hate himself but he loves you.
3K notes · View notes
gloomwitchwrites · 2 months ago
Note
Hello, hope you're a having a good day
Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu
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Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.
So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning
Word Count: 2.4k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish
“Come on. Come at me.”
Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.
Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.
Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.
Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.
Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.
You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.
“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.
It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.
This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.
Fucking beautiful.
Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.
“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”
With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.
You’re completely trapped beneath him.
And in a completely inappropriate position.
From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.
Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.
“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.
“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.
The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.
“Soap—”
His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”
“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.
The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.
Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.
Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.
One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.
“You—”
“Are we interrupting something?”
You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.
Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.
You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.
But Johnny’s has.
With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.
“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.
The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.
Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.
“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.
“Hate me that much?” he teases.
“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”
Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.
“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”
He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.
Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.
Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.
You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.
As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.
You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.
Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.
“You’re improving,” he says.
“I have a good teacher.”
Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.
He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.
Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.
“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”
His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.
John Price
Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.
"Again."
Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."
"And you need practice," counters Price.
He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.
Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.
Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.
You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.
Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.
"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."
Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.
"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.
That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.
Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.
"You need to do better-"
"Captain."
Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.
"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."
Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.
"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.
"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.
"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."
Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.
“What?" you snap
"Pointers," he repeats.
"Oh, fuck off, Simon."
He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Your posture is terrible."
"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.
"Are you sassing me?"
"No."
Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”
“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”
“What was that?”
You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”
Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."
You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.
"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."
You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.
"Again,” nods Simon.
"Really?"
Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."
"What way?"
“Grab your knife and find out.”
Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.
Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.
Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.
"Again,” he growls.
Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.
"Again."
Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.
This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.
"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."
You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.
Awareness settles in.
Simon is all hardness over you.
"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.
His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.
“I have one,” he murmurs.
Bet I can guess.
“How do you want it?” he continues.
"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.
It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.
There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.
Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.
It's only a tease. You want the real thing.
"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.
Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.
That one. Got it.
“We should—”
A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.
“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.
He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”
You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”
Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”
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moonlight-prose · 2 months ago
Note
I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:
10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them
Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜
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hunger
a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!
summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.
word count: 1.7k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.
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Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.
He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.
Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.
"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.
He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.
For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.
"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"
Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.
Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.
He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.
So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.
Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.
His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.
"I don't know what we're doing."
"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."
A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.
"There we go," he murmured.
Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."
"B-but you said-"
"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."
"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.
He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.
He'd follow your lead.
But that remained something he never excelled at.
"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"
The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.
This was a show and he remained the only audience member.
"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."
With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.
Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.
Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.
"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.
You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."
"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"
Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."
That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.
The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.
You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."
"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.
"P-Pretty," you slurred.
"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.
The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.
"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."
Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"
A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."
"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"
He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."
The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.
The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.
"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."
You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"
Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.
"It's yours."
You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."
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