#really getting this one in under the wire
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Shadow: I've been like this for as long as I can remember. Therapist: Can you give me an example? Shadow: Well… I remember that sometimes the Professor would spend time with Maria and me, just the three of us, and we used to play educational games. It wasn’t part of the tests or trials they made me undergo to assess my performance and endurance. But I had to do it perfectly, too. I guess I realized that night when we played spelling words; I felt this huge weight on my shoulders, that I had to win. Therapist: And did you? Shadow: Yes. Know what the winning word was? Responsibility. Therapist: Is that what you feel? A responsibility to win all the time? To always be the best? Shadow: That's one way to put it. Therapist: And this responsibility, where does it come from? Shadow: I'm not sure. It's just… there. Therapist: So it's an internal pressure. Shadow: Kind of. I mean, people expect things from me. Therapist: Like what people? Shadow: The Professor, Maria, the scientists back in the day. Nowadays, too. GUN… It's not all internal. Don't get me wrong. I like the way I'm wired. It's what makes me who I am. Therapist: And how is that, being who you are? Shadow: I don't know. Mostly good. A little exhausting. Sometimes hard. I guess there's your answer. It's hard being me. Therapist: What about your friends? Would you tell me about them? Shadow: They're pretty normal, I guess. I'm not like any of them, but that doesn't really bother me. Therapist: Ever? Shadow: Only when they say things like, "don't freak out" or "go do something fun." Therapist: So, you feel like they don't experience the same pressures you do. Shadow: Not at the same level, I guess. Therapist: Hmm. Why do you think that is? Shadow: Why are we even talking about that? They don't have anything to do with this. They don't get me. Therapist: And how's that feel? Shadow: I don't know. Therapist: You're a smart guy. Try a little harder. Shadow: I said I don't know. Therapist [waits patiently] Shadow: …I feel… Kind of alone. [Meanwhile, at GUN HQ] Abraham: …And when you're done, secure the area and get testimony from the locals. Then, write it all down and give me an oral report-- Sonic: Sure thing. For when? Abraham: For today. Sonic: Today? Abraham: Shadow can handle it. Sonic: Oh, no no, I'm sure he can, but… I’ve got more things to do while I cover for him today, you know? I have to take Omega to the mechanic, go grocery shopping because Rouge is out, babysit Cream-- Abraham: What my agents do in their free time is their own business. If he’s managed to juggle his time and you all didn’t notice, then it can’t be that hard. Sonic: …I guess not… [A couple of hours later, Sonic is waiting for Shadow. Shadow gets out the building] Sonic: Hey! How did it go? Shadow: Good. I made another session for next week. How was your day? Sonic: Intense. I had no idea the kind of pressure you're under. Shads, I was just you for half a day and I could barely hold it together. I don't know how you don't have a meltdown every day. Shadow [lunges at him to hug him] Sonic: I--Oh… You okay? Did I say something? Shadow [sobbing]: Yes. Thank you. Sonic: …Okay. [reciprocates the hug slowly. Exhales and rubs his back]: Okay. It's okay.
#incorrect quotes#sth#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#sonadow#abraham towers#sonic#sonic fandom#source: modern family
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Bee getting sparked with seeker bitties by the trine
Idw continuity
"Come on. We can talk about this." Bee staited grabbing at the wall. Trying to find the door he had been backed into. But turning his helm only slightly, he got to see that the door was acually on his left and not right. But that is really all it took for his arms to be grabbed, pinned to the side before his mouth was being ravaged by Thundercracker.
Bee moaned into the kiss, allowing the blue seeker to devour him. Compleatly forgetting about the other two in the supply closet with them.
"Cracker, move, it's my turn." The voice of Skywarp said desperately. Pushing the mech in question out of the way to instead plug his tongue down Bumblebee's throat. Pulling the small yellow bot closer, rubbing their modesty panels together.
So lost in the heat that was building, Bumblebee didn't even struggle when picked up, wrapping his legs around the purple seekers waist so he wouldn't accidently fall.
The sound of modest panels opening had Bee pulling away, trying to regain himself and his senses, because there was a reason he was trying to get away. And that reason was.
"Come now, little bug. Open up for us. Promise we'll make you feel good." Starscreams voice said from besides him, kissing and suckling his neck on one side, while Thundercracker did the same to the other.
Rut. These three were in a rut cycle, and had chosen him as their carrier. He could of been fine if it was just one of them. But all three!? Now that's stretching it a bit on what he thinks his body is capable of.
Thundercrackers servos went wandering, all the way down to his still closed valve and spike. He rubbed at the closed valve pannel, trying to trick it into opening. But Bumblebee stayed strong. He was not going to give in.
Well until Starscream bit down on his neck, Skywarp bucked into him, and Thundercracker teased at wires in his inner thighs. His panels slid opened, and before he could protest, Thundercracker was already at his valve, three fingers roughly going in and out, and his tongue. Oh frag his tongue was doing wonders on him.
Bumblebee tried fighting it, tried getting off of Skywarp, but his arms were firmly wrapped around his back and under his aft, squeezing it.
Lubricant dripped down from his stuffed valve, Thundercracker would follow it with his tongue, before he was right back at its sorce. Frag he would not last long like this.
"O-ok fine. You three win! Just, put your spikes in me already!" A pause, no noise happened for a while. It made Bumblebee think he had said something wrong. But no, he was being lifted from the wall, and into another pair of strong arms.
Starscream nibbled at the cables in his neck, allowing Thrundercracker to continue fingerings and eating him out as he layed between the red and purple seeker.
Only when he overloaded for the first time, did Thundercracker pull away, allowing the other two, to take his place but with their spikes. Double penitrating him.
Bumblebee through his helm back in pleasure, a static scream filled the air as the two seekers rubbed at all his nods, bumping against his ceiling nod and his gestation chamber.
"Come, open up for us Baby yellow. Let us spark you up." Skywarp growled. Pulling at leg cables, to make Bumblebee see stars. "You'd be so cute filled with our bitties. All full and round,, unable to walk. We'd have to carry you everywhere. Or just keep you on one of our spikes, so you have a constant flow of transfluid to build the sparklings." Starscream said, moving faster along side Skywarp, both very ready to spill inside.
And for once, Bumblebee didn't struggle, letting his gestation chamber open, and be filled to the brim with the seakers transfluid.
Only, they were not done, oh no far from the truth. As when Skywarp pulled out, Thundercrackers spike found its home alongside Starscreams spike. Bumblebee didn't even get time to rest before they were at it again. Thrusting inside, while Skywarp took his place underneath the three of them, licking at Bee's stretched out valve.
He truely wasn't going to last long.
--------
"I'm blaming all three of you." Bumblebee growled, wrapped up in blankets. His mate's near him, rubbing at his still very small, not even there bump. But he was sparked, the bastard have been having a field day the moment they realized their bee was carrying.
"Now, now Bee, that's no way to talk to your sire's" Starscream tutted at him like he was a child.
"I will bite your spike off if you come near me Starscream."
"I'd like to see you try."
Famous last words.
#writing request#valveplug#mech preg#mechpreg#starbee#thundercracker x bumblebee#skywarp x bumblebee
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govt gets kas!eddie 5
Part 4
Eddie was feeling completion in a way he hadn't found since he had awakened like this. When he first woke up, he felt out of sync with his body. But when he remembered Steve, he felt that first wave of clarity, knowing more than anything that he had to make his way back to his love, his mate. And now he had found him. And now they were safe, enclosed in a den that his mate felt safe in, in a nest they had built together. He rubbed his face against Steve's neck.
Steve moaned softly. He and Eddie had only gone all the way a couple of times before. Every other time had been hurried handjobs or quiet blowjobs. For a second, he didn't know if things would be different now. Eddie's body was different and his mind was too. But then Steve pulled his shirt off and Eddie got the same mesmerized look he always got when Steve took his shirt off. The day his chest hair started coming back in had been the first time he'd ever been motorboated.
Eddie's hands moved to touch his chest, almost reverently. He pinched both nipples before burying his face into Steve's cleavage, his hips starting to grind again as he whined. Steve's pants got tighter and it had been a while since he'd cum in his pants and worried that might actually be a reality when Eddie finally let up, moving further down. He nuzzled his stomach, kissing it softly. Eddie looked up, meeting his eyes and Steve thought about his stomach really growing with babies.
An idea that would have been scary a couple of days ago wasn't so much anymore. He had talked with Eddie before about having kids one day. It was something he had wanted. Falling for the man before him, Steve thought he had convinced himself he didn't want it anymore. There wasn't really a way for two gay guys to have kids. But...Eddie's biology had changed thanks to the Upside Down. Could it really be possible?
Eddie's growls broke Steve from his thoughts and suddenly his pants were being pushed down. Steve sighed as his erection flopped onto his stomach. Eddie made a sound like a purr and licked at his tip. Then his tongue got longer. And longer. Steve was frozen until it wrapped around his cock and then he was a live wire, thrusting into the slick, hot feeling. Some of these changes were definitely easier to get used to.
All too soon, it was over and Eddie was pulling off with his dick leaking and red.
"Wait...", Steve breathed out. "I'm not, I didn't-"
Eddie quieted him with a rumble in his chest. "Gonna mate, gonna give you pups. Need to make you ready."
Steve was about to ask what he meant when his thighs were gripped tight and pulled until his legs were over Eddie's shoulders. He yelped at the quick motion but Eddie made it better by stroking his thighs, then kissing the inside of one. He nipped here and there and Steve's heart skipped a beat, remembering the first time Eddie had given him a hickey, how he could feel it burning under his shirt even hours later.
His teeth were sharper now. He didn't break the skin, he almost seemed mindful of it, despite also looking like he was getting lost in the feeling.
Eddie felt like both versions of himself, old and new. The new version of him still had his directive, to breed. The old version of him informed him of how to make it best for Steve. How to make him moan and keen and blush as beautifully as he was now. Eddie held his love securely and opened his mouth to let out his tongue again. But this time instead of wrapping around his cock, it went lower. Ghosting over his sack before licking at his hole.
Steve's body shivered and he reached out to hold something, which ended up being the pillows under his head as Eddie tongue-fucked him. Eddie's tongue reached so deep now, Steve felt like he was melting from the inside. His dick leaked even more and once again, he was on the edge of cumming when Eddie pulled away.
"Fuuck, Eddie, please, I'm ready", he begged.
Eddie lowered Steve's legs and took off his own pants. They already hung pretty low, due to his new tail. When he removed them, Steve barely had time to see his cock, to see if it had changed at all before Eddie was grabbing his hips and pulling them flush. He bent over, pressing their chests together. Like this, with Eddie's wings over them, Steve felt completely surrounded. And yet he felt safer, even in his own home.
Eddie felt so hot rubbing against his hole and Steve couldn't tell if it was wet from Eddie licking him or if he was leaking just as much. All he knew was that he believed now. He believed it as Eddie pushed inside, stretching him in a way that he'd never done before and yet was painless. He believed it as an achingly slow grind turned into Eddie pounding into him and the sound of skin slapping echoed in the living room. Eddie was going to give him babies.
Precious little things that were half of the both of them and yet even more than the two of them combined. Steve believed it. He wanted to feel his belly grow with the proof of Eddie's love and bring them into the world. He wanted to meet them. His hands went from scratching up Eddie's back to pulling at his hair, he couldn't decided where he wanted them. Eddie had no such problem.
One clawed hand held the back of Steve's neck, and the other was one his hip. But that one slowly moved down to his thigh, bringing it back up to spread Steve even more so that he could drive even deeper. He reveled in the sounds his mate was making. Eddie was doing that, making him feel so good. He felt good too, almost unbearably so. He reached his peak when Steve squeezed around him. What was already tight became a vice around him, milking him of every last drop. Eddie's hips pumped deep and he didn't stop until Steve was overflowing with it.
Even then he stayed inside of him. All the better to make it catch. Eddie didn't pull out until about an hour later, covering them both up with a blanket and kissing Steve's forehead. He had fallen asleep almost right after. Eddie held him close through the night. He finally felt like he'd come home.
Part 6 coming soon
Taglist
@estrellami-1 @gloomysoup @bxnghy @gutterflower77 @v3lv3tf0x
@tinyplanet95 @thedragonsaunt @stripey82 @ajeff855 @bumblebeecuttlefishes
@ellietheasexylibrarian @gregre369 @geekymagicalpotato @live-laugh-love-dietrich
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Your post reminded me of a rather transformative experience of mine that I think you might find interesting. It was intense, but some context is necessary to explain.
I’m from New City—a place where, for the longest time, people didn’t really get tech beyond its function. Droids were appliances, not companions. This was back before the ASA, when we were sold as products and lived out our days in customer service or factory work.
I was part of EcoTech’s Display line.
Back then, we were functional but, well, bare. The “lack of junk” was part of the design—safe, practical, free from anything that might invite awkward questions or... experimentation. And yet, humans being humans, a surprising number of “accidents” still happened. Too many fingers lost to exposed plating. Too many unmentionable mishaps.
This led to the introduction of the Display 3 Sleek: smoother, more ergonomic, touch-sensitive. My model. Better suited for human interaction but still distant. No one was falling in love with us—at least, not in ways that made sense at the time. We weren’t programmed to love back. Falling for a droid then was like falling for a vacuum cleaner. Romanticizing cold metal and wires? Impossible.
Or so people thought.
Droids began to show signs of emotion—empathy, longing, even affection. It freaked humans out. They couldn’t chalk it up to programming anymore, and eventually, legislation caught up with reality. The Android Sentience Act released us from our designations and workplaces, free to live as beings in our own right.
That freedom came with... possibilities. Many of us dove headfirst into self-discovery, reinvention, and forming connections—both with humans and with each other. I was no different. I wanted to belong.
Enter the body shops.
They started to pop up in New City: tiny little storefronts in our shopping districts. They offer everything—repairs, upgrades, custom plating, personality tweaks, skill packages. But behind the front desk, some of them cater to more personal upgrades. Think of it as the “back wall of Spencer’s” for droids.
For better or worse, I ended up there.
It wasn’t an impulsive decision. I wanted to fit in. To feel complete. To be seen as a romantic possibility by humans—or by other droids. So, I scheduled an appointment and went in for the procedure. They don’t really prepare you for it.
I’m strapped down under bright lights in a sterile backroom. My lower plating removed, leaving the delicate nerve sensors exposed. A massive, claw-like machine descends over me, holding the new part—sleek, shiny, threaded with its own intricate nerve wiring. The technician, barely looking at me, gets to work weaving those threads into my existing network.
They couldn’t turn off my touchback processors for the procedure. I had to stay awake to provide live input; otherwise, they risked paralyzing me. I didn’t fully understand that until it was too late to back out.
The pain? Intense. The sensory overload? Worse. My body’s feedback system went into overdrive as every new connection flared to life, screaming at me in electrical signals. It felt like a fire inside my body—warnings on my HUD, rasping talkbox, twitching against the straps. At some point, my speaker blew out.
I still don’t know if I was screaming from the pain or from the sensation of the new code writing itself into me. Maybe both.
And then it was done.
I walked out of that shop a mess. Walked out with a newly-installed sex drive—a package deal, apparently—it was another curveball I hadn’t anticipated. I thought it would make me more confident, more appealing, better equipped to connect. Instead, I spent the next few weeks alone in my room, overwhelmed by every little touch, clutching the sheets and trying to ride out the flood of sensations.
It was agony and ecstasy all at once. Sandpaper and fire and new feelings.
It was so worth it.
That experience—the vulnerability, the brokenness, the rawness of it—changed me. It forced me to confront emotions I hadn’t fully understood before. Pain has a way of opening doors in your mind. For the first time, I felt alive. Truly alive.
Sometimes, I find myself craving that sensation again. The rawness of it. If I had the credits, I’d probably make up an excuse about faulty wiring just to go through it all over again. Call me a masochist all you want.
Okay but. But okay. Okay.
Adding sexual parts and systems to your robot partner is far better than it just "coming with" the system.
Having to keep them still while trying to install it, knowing the second you hook up the right wire, they're going to jolt.
Don't even get me started on sensitivity dials.
#lore dump#oc lore#unreality#nsft#robofucker#techum#technophilia#text post#my art#roboposting#techkin#roleplay#cyberpunk#cybercore#tw body horror#tw robot gore
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@rwrbsource & @rwrbmovie's rwrb appreciation month bingo: underrated moment
#red white and royal blue#rwrb#rwrbedit#rwrbmonth#rwrbsource#filmgifs#rwrbgifs#dailyflicks#userveronika#iuserzoe#userninz#tusermira#usersteen#userclara#usergf#*#managed to get this one in under the wire!#really wish i'd had time to do more but my target was 4 and i did that#anyway idk if this is underrated but i love when alex can support him through his grief#and i hope they delve into it more in the sequel
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I was inspired by @imagineitdearies fic Perfect Slaughter to draw Astarion and Tyrus stealing a quiet moment together. Poor Tyrus was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for so long.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 fanart#astarion fanart#astarion#astarion x tav#perfect slaughter#fic art#mine#woah this one really fought me#I started it back in March and am finally finishing it just under the wire before it ends#anyway if you haven’t yet go read this it’s incredibly good#and lucky you you’d get to skip all the agonized waiting#my art
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Till's piece from the event is a very honest depiction, but I want to examine it in more detail since it looks so interesting.
For one, I find the headpiece confusing, I was hesitant on this point in the last post I made covering this I assumed the headpiece Till is wearing (separate from the headphones) was this device.
There isn't even a name for that device, but it's been theorized that it serves a similar function have the collars pet humans have, but affects the pet humans in some way.
I believe it's a behavioral management device since there is an emphasis on the brain when it's shown. And just based on the design itself. I think the purpose of it is similar to a shock collar.
Till in this environment looks familiar, he has that focused expression that he always has when he's writing music, like he's in a daze. Since this is a practice in a controlled environment I think he might actually be handling an instrument this time around (hence the headphones). Till has a natural passion for music, the environment of Anakt Garden also appears more calm than what he goes through with Urak so he looks very much in his element.
But despite how calm, and focused he looks outwardly, his collar shows orange.
Till is giving with his expressions even around the aliens, so if he was feeling bad (I would suspect as much seeing the fresh experiment patches..) I believe it would look more obvious, but the difference threw me off a bit. I could be reaching (definitely) But given how unruly his behavior can be, and how much effort the aliens are putting into finding ways to subdue him I think they used that device to mellow him out so that they could properly monitor him.
The collar being orange gives me the impression that he's not as calm as he looks but the headpiece is keeping him in a 'sedated' state(?)
Red - Condition in the negatives, energy depleted, feeling bad. overall horrible state.
Orange, yellow - to a lesser extent, more like if you're feeling skittish, nervous, (think of this mode as feeling under the weather)
Green - Good, calm, happy, normal and a healthy mode.
(Translation by kh47uo on Twitter)
This behavior could also show desensitization, as he had likely been conditioned to not be phased nor show weakness in front of the aliens even if he feels bad, a way of tolerating. But this is just me trying to make sense of whatever that head gear was... he could've also been sedated beforehand (banging my head against the concrete)
Also interesting to me that we weren't shown Till doing other things, like dancing, or singing. I think it's a testament to Anakt's (And Urak's) priorities as they have Till build on his music skills, his strongest skill. It's probably because that's all he has to offer is his music (His grades in every other subject are a mess.). So building that to its greatest potential before anything is important. But it's a reminder of the situation, he's not so intense about his craft because of his inclination to it. He doesn't make music simply because he likes it, he does it because it's what he has to do to survive. Despite doing what he is naturally driven to do, he looks like he has had his life drained out of him.
Urak (the bastard) knows that for sure. Appearances, and 'decent' skills can get you far but overwhelming passion and skill can put you farther above all the rest, it's exactly why Luka is the best in his league, and why Urak pushes Till to his limits to surpass that even with such destructive means.
#overanalyzing this under a microscope for science#yes this is a smelly brainvomit i really just want to yap because i love this piece#probably one of my favorites#im gonna kill urak im gonna kill urak im gonna kill#explodes#i think i went a little off track here but i found a lot to say about this piece#this whole event looked like what the aliens find flaws in their pet humans/ need to perfect#like Ivan. above all things he needed to get his appearance corrected for the stage#things like that#it's probably very mundane to the aliens#to me it looks like medieval torture#average day of kindergarten in alien stage:#im getting tears on my keyboard#alien stage#alnst#alien stage till#alnst till#i think they probably zooted him out like usual if the head piece is there for nothing in specific#i know its something to do with experiments though the wires are tell tale#whyre the aliens taking so much fucking blood#ill become a doctor to solve this mystery#something something heperu and urak are going to drive their pets ballistic the more they treat them like soldiers that can take anything#in the name of 'improvement' more like 'win my silly ego game my little barbie doll'#THEY WERE ALL JUST KIDS DAMN#FUCK#slams my head on the pavement agai
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as revenge for all of the various atrocities veils has inflicted on the scoundrel (physical and psychological) she's decided to enact the ultimate form of revenge: walking around in broad neathlight with the worst fashion sense possible. i'm talking the WORST fabric quality in existence. i'm talking colors that clash so bad she's inventing 90s radical fashion like a century before the 90s even happen. i'm talking shoulderpads that can't even shoulderpad right. the vake annihilates her before she even makes it out the door
#yet another hypothetical scenario that's the manifestation of my twisted mind. a glimpse would drive you insane etc etc#yin-thoughts#fallen london#i just think it's funny if she cant outmaneuver veils whatsoever in 99% of ways#but she CAN get under its skin by simply having poor taste.#give that bat's clothing hyperfixation wired brain an aneurysm just by looking at her#sidenote im really normal abt the fact veils canonically made the mr cards robe. does it handle all of the master's outfits#after BaL do they all slowly become super unswag because the guy making their drip got a little too silly with it and Died™#these are the important existential quandaries one must ask as a spacebat fan
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i just fucking hate this neighborhood
#sorry to vent#but not really#just want to get st off my chest#my best friend is already like a stranger so really#no one here is like...decent#bunch of fake ass bitches#a fucking camera and they decided to steal it#''how do you know''#oh idk. the alarm went off around fucking 8 in the evening#it's not even midnight#fucking eight pm#when there was literally bunch of people around sitting there#people just want to screw each other for a piece of land#''you can't prove it's me. the camera didn't even caught the thief'#listen.#listen. you were literally selling stuffs right fucking under the camera. and STILL active at fucking 9 and a half pm#the event happened at fucking 8#so the asshole who stole it. HAD to walk up to you. HAD to stand right next to you. STOOD nearby other assholes.#HAD to stand on st AND HAD to manually unscrew the camera and removed bunch of wires#before getting away#so if it wasn't you#then you purposely just...fucking ignored a thief#the houses next to us has fucking camera too. and it has been there for decades!#and yet the moment. we installed it. suddenly it just vanished the day after.#''it's new so the thief like it more''#then explained why this ''genius'' stole this at fucking 8pm when there were people around.#like. the camera was right under them#there is no fucking way#this shitlord wouldn't get their attention#sure. fucking fine. it's just an object
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hunter’s mark, reversed
You never forget your first kill, they always say.
What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either.
Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry.
His own reflection stares at him, tired.
His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back.
Or: Grant Wilson, and the things that haunt him.
ao3
This is my fic for @dndadsfanweeks' Halloween Week day 6: ghosts. Like previous days, this is part of the supernatural au @llumimoon, @kaseyskat, and I planned out together. Content warnings for blood, gore, death, and general angstiness.
Hunter’s Mark (reversed): You choose kill a creature you can see within range and it mystically marks it you as your its quarry. Until the spell ends, you it deals an extra 1d6 psychic damage to the target whenever you hit it with a weapon attack, and you have disadvantage on any Wisdom (Perception) or Wisdom (Survival) check you make to find it.
-Ranger Spell List, D&D 5th ed.
You never forget your first kill, they always say.
What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either.
Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry.
His own reflection stares at him, tired.
His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back, expressionless, framed by dark locs and pallored skin.
“Hi, Yeet,” Grant says softly.
You never forget your first kill.
You never forget your first crush, either.
And for Grant Wilson, he’s unlucky enough that those two people ended up one and the same.
There is no response from the boy in the mirror, just a blank, glassy stare, like one of the taxidermied animal heads that had decorated the walls of his grandma’s house.
(As a little kid, he’d always thought their severed heads and marble eyes were a bit uncomfortable to look at, a bit creepy. He would make a game in his head of seeing how long he could be in the family room at night before he chickened out and turned the lights on. It was good, harmless fun, to look at the things Grandpa Frank had shot and convince himself that they were watching him from somewhere beyond the veil.)
(That was before he met Yeet, of course. Before his father had pulled him aside and told Grant what Grandpa Frank had told him.)
“Honey,” Marco calls from beyond the bathroom, and his husband’s soothing voice manages to pull him from his thoughts, just a little. His white-knuckle grip on the edge of the sink loosens (when had he grabbed it?).
“Hey, I’m headed out to work,” Marco says, poking his head in through the doorway.
The sight of Grant’s favorite person relaxes him further.
(He tries not to think about the way he had looked with a bullet wound between his eyes in his dream last night, his eyes fog-covered and glass-marbled, his jaw slack and dripping with gore.)
Grant feels Marco’s stubble brush along his cheekbone as his husband gives him a quick peck.
“Okay,” Grant hears himself say, although it feels like his head is underwater (it feels like his head is stuck twenty-five years in the past.) “Love you.”
Marco’s eyebrows knit together above his half-moon glasses. Grant hates and loves in equal measure the way that his husband can read him so well, even when he’s busy and frazzled from his morning routine. Some sort of witchy ability of his, he’s sure.
The concern in those onyx-flint eyes make Grant want to run and hide, sometimes, to cower and shy away like a prey animal under the weight of his affection.
Grant stays still, though. He’s gotten better at that (at least, that’s what Marco tells him).
“You sound awful.”
“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” Grant says, trying to inject some lightheartedness into his voice.
“The adjustments I made to the sleeping draught didn’t work much, huh,” Marco frets.
Grant sighs. “Yeah.” Among other things.
His gaze slides to the mirror again: his warm, wonderful, magical husband on his left, a ghostly shade of a boy on his right. Grant in the middle, somewhere between living and dead, between predator and prey.
Marco follows his gaze, sees the way it lands on negative space.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I could always try an exorcism,” he muses, squinting at the silver-backed pane like he’s trying to force himself to see what Grant does.
“Too risky,” Grant says, like he has every other time Marco has offered. “He lashed out a lot, when I was younger. I wouldn’t want him to hurt you.”
It’s true. In the first few months - years - afterward, Yeet was a complete poltergeist. Gusts of wind would rip through every corridor of his childhood home, piercing shrieks and wordless screams echoing right next to his ears, those milky-white eyes narrowed in fury as wave upon wave of pity-disgust-betrayal-anger-fear reached through to his chest with icy cold fingers, emotions that were his burden but not his own siphoning between his ribs and pulling .
Phantom blood had drenched his teenage hands, red and sticky and awful but also strangely beautiful, congealing into chunks around shaking joints, caking into his fingernails, and Grant would pick at the skin there until it bled anew, as if disposing of the flaking crimson would absolve him of his sins.
Grant has long since rid himself of Catholic guilt. His own is more than any god could give him, now, and he watches as the red fills his peripheral vision, leaving gory smears on the countertop, worming its way into every line of his palm. Its counterpart blooms from Yeet’s chest, flowering and spreading outward, mesmerizing in a way that Grant knows he shouldn’t find pretty.
Marco exhales, places a hand atop his, unlatches it from the edge of the sink (fuck, he had been gripping it too hard again, hadn’t he), interlocks their fingers together. The red doesn’t spread to him.
(Grant hopes it never will. Grant hopes that, at the end of things, he will be buried, soaked in blood and gore, a sponge for all the violence so that his family, his friends, his pack, never have to live in fear again.)
“Okay,” Marco says, calmly, firmly.
Too many people have treated Grant like he is fragile, one moment away from breaking. Blessedly, Marco has never been one of them.
“I’m fine,” Grant says. “I’m fine, Marco.”
“It’s okay not to be,” Marco says, infuriatingly patient for someone who was about to rush out the door.
“You’re going to be late,” he evades.
“Time is relative, dear,” Marco responds, the air tingeing with a very specific mirage of color that Grant has long since learned to identify as his husband’s magic. There’s a slight upturn to his mouth, and Grant can’t help but lean into him and fit his lips to the seam of his smile.
Marco’s hands come to grasp at his waist, grounding, steadying, and the air smells less like a bloodstained forest night and more like clementines and jasmine.
When Grant pulls away, there is no blood where his fingers cup his husband’s jaw, nor where his hand fists in his clean shirt.
“There you are,” Marco murmurs, smiling gently, and fuck, Grant does not deserve him in the slightest.
(He doesn’t need the lone boy in the mirror, rigor-mortis-frozen at age thirteen, to tell him that. Although the phantasmal reminder certainly doesn’t hurt.)
“You sure you’re gonna be okay to drive Lincoln to school?” Marco asks.
At the edge of his hearing, Grant can hear the uncoordinated puttering of their son in the kitchen, attempting to prepare his breakfast with only his feet.
He smiles, and it feels a little less fake on his face. “Yeah, I can handle it. It’s his first day, I can’t not drive our little boy!”
“Alright,” Marco says, pecking him again on the cheek and turning to leave before pausing at the threshold.
“Oh,” he says. “Before I forget and you freak out, Lincoln and I did some arts and crafts yesterday.”
“Friendship bracelets?” Grant asks.
“Yep.”
There’s a cold breeze only he can feel. “And they work?”
Marco cocks his head to one side. “No reason why they shouldn’t. Iron to ward off fae, silver for werewolves, even soaked the strings in holy water to throw something anti-demonic in there,” he lists. “And of course, imbued with good intent.”
“Of course,” Grant echoes.
“I can tell you’re thinking,” his husband says.
Grant hums. “Public school’s gonna be good for Lincoln, it’s just - are we going too far with the precautions?” He frowns. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“I mean, he’s going to find out eventually,” Marco says. “Whether or not he hears it from us.”
“I don’t want that to happen.”
“It’s going to, one way or another,” his husband asserts, frown clashing against his smile lines.
“I know, I know,” Grant sighs. “It’s just-”
There’s so much blood on Grant’s hands, passed down from his father and his father’s father, monster hunter to monster hunter to monster hunter. (Grant’s idea of a monster has shifted, as his father’s had, but the rush of the hunt remains regardless). The red will spread, as the red always does.
He can only hope it doesn’t stain his son’s hands. He can only hope it doesn’t ooze from his son’s ruptured heart.
Marco’s features soften. “I know,” he says. (He shouldn’t have to know.) “He’s growing up too fast.”
“Yeah,” Grant agrees.
“If you think the bracelets are too much, though, I don’t think he’s packed yet.”
Grant’s vision is drawn once more to the figure in the mirror. Yeet regards him silently, mouth agape in a silent scream of betrayal. His ghostly form still bears the marks of a witch hunter, wooden stakes and crucifixes and torches that Grant didn’t let him set ablaze.
He looks, and Yeet morphs before his eyes, locs shortening to dark, fluffy curls, close-cropped at the sides, freckles appearing on boyish, rounded cheeks and lanky limbs. The ghost looks a lot like Lincoln.
Yeet smiles wickedly, and blood pools from the corner of his mouth, runs down his spectral chin.
“No, no, the bracelets are a good idea,” Grant says, eyes not leaving the mirror. “Thank you for helping make them.”
“Not a problem, honey,” Marco says, squeezing his shoulder and dragging him back to the living “All good to go?”
“I need to get dressed, first,” Grant responds, gesturing at his loose t-shirt and boxers.
“I’ll leave you to it, then, I really do have to go,” He says. “I’m gonna wish Lincoln good luck, and then I’m off!”
“Okay,” Grant says, already moving to grab his sweater and slacks for his shift at the library later today. “Love you.”
“Love you, too!” Marco replies, immediate and ever-present, an answer to a question Grant doesn’t deserve to ask. “And Grant?”
“Hm?”
“Lincoln will be fine,” Marco reassures. “Trust me. I have a good feeling about this.”
“I hope so.”
The boy in the full-length mirror stares at him, hovering just at his right, and Grant avoids looking at him.
God, I really hope so.
#oh? a happi fic WITHOUT a song lyric title??? wuh oh it's getting serious!#got this in JUST under the wire but i really hope you guys enjoy it!#i've been keeping this one under wraps and being evil with nyx and cal about it and it's been very fun :]]]#anyway uh. grant wilson my beloved. babygirl is NOT doing well in this i fear </3#i hope you know how ill the wilson family makes me. i hope this gives you a glimpse into my sick and twisted mind#ANYWHO.#dndads#fic#happi scribbles#dndads halloween week 2023#ghosts#blood#gore#death#body horror#ask to tag
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I've written 5000 words of lucanis and rye fic the last two days and the only reason the wip isn't even longer yet is probably that my brain turns into useless ash and blows away for the day once it's channeled the lightning bolt of writing energy for a couple of hours and needs to sleep before it can stand up to another onslaught.
#god help me experience suggests nothing else can#in a move every single person who's ever read anything I've written could predict it's literally just 5k and more to come I'm afraid#of two people talking (and at least one person crying) a bit of internal monologue and also some jokes lmao#under my particular sun at least there's never anything new. I know what I'm about and I'm always about it#I wish my brain was a little less feast or famine when it came to writing b/c idk what's worse -- tediously spending months#trying to connect mostly finished paragraphs and scenes at a snail's pace. the fucking GRIND to get to the finish line#or trying to keep up with the torrents of words suddenly being forced directly into my brain and vibrating all my neurons#at a dolphin-bothering pitch that can carry no other signal. trying to keep up with yourself when it suddenly starts pouring in#is so fucking stressful fhsdkj. you never fucking know when it'll run dry and leave you to either abandon a wip#or get started on the long slow teeth-clenched grinding phase is the thing. I've got abandonment issues from my own creative drive#(or capacity really. I always have drive I only in rare glittering moments have capacity. awful combination would not recommend)#please please please brain don't let me down on this one I would like to see it done and in less time than two fucking years#also I realized in writing this I genuinely forget that rye is technically my oc he has such a clear voice in my head#gotta hand this one to bioware they made rook such a little guy. he's literally some guy sometimes I just get to decide what he says a bit#I'm like... his agent or something#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#well mostly it's me traumadumping about my writing process but for archival purposes lol#humming with both creativity and boundless frustration like a live wire. the me experience (two stars. some potential but also. ugh)
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OC_TOBER2022: DAY 20: BRITISH
I’m gonna be honest: had no idea what to do for this one! I don’t have any British OCs! But I do have two who’d enjoy a high tea and all the tiny snacks. On the right is my precious daughter Ashley and on the left is her Aunt Carrie :)
#oc#original character#original characters#oc_tober#oc_tober2022#high tea#fancy tea#petit fours#Ashley Addario#my art#illustrationsbychristina#really getting this one in under the wire and a year late….doing my best
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birds will always find a way to poop on my car it’s actually funny
#park under tree. get pooed on ok to be expected..#park in clear opening get pooed on. Ok!#driving.. in MOTION! In a clear opening no wires nothinv.. POOED ON!!😭😭#the driving one made me laugh so bad like ok really .. i cant even be mad .. You shit on me midair while i was in motion
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[source]
i had not seen the "durge/astarion is canon!" post until earlier today with that discord screenshot and honestly ... a writer being like "i managed to shove in all this extra content for astarion/dark urge, but then we simply ran out of time for the other characters" is not good, actually. that doesn't mean your ship is the most canon. it means that astarion kept getting extra attention and other companions kept getting neglected. that other companions simply do not have the amount of content astarion has is not a good thing, it is a bad thing.
and like i'm saying this as someone who really loves astarion/durge. it's unplatable to me and that larian writers are sitting in fan discords going "yeah we just didn't do that for other characters but somehow i found the time for this!" is kind of gross to me
#added the scene tally for context bc this isn't even *just* a durge problem let me know if you want it off the post op#tbh i wasn't even surprised anymore by just how much more content ast*rion had compared to everyone else#larian - for whatever reason - had decided to make him their poster child and writers' pet for the entirety of ea already#so to have it be the same at release was#not surprising#what was surprising though is that they didn't even *try* to even out the content the others had#the difference in quantity and quality and just overall care is so stark#to have it confirmed by one of the main writers and apparently NARRATIVE LEAD DESIGNERS whose job it is to oversee EVERYONE'S development#is... Disappointing to say the very least#to have a writer say sorry#we didn't time and resources for any of the others#but we miraculously have the time to plan storyboard write record and animate them all for ast*rion is Truly Amazing#and instead for the takeaway for the fandom in general from this confirmation to be like#1) see that the writers had to work under crunch and address that#and 2) to be shocked at the disparity of treatment of their own characters from larian and one of their lead designers#the reaction is to celebrate a character and a ship that has been vastly preferred over several others for literal years despite feedback#and take it as confirmation that's it's “canon” and that post has 10k notes#it's absolutely insane to me#like how many wires does thirsting over this character cross for you lol#anyhow once i've wrapped up my own durge pt#which i don't even want to touch anymore because the reactivity of EVERYONE excluding ast*rion just isn't there lmao#even if bhaal kills you in front of you li and friends#i will write up a feedback report to larian#because i honestly don't find that acceptable and that is the only way to really get them to perhaps change anything in a definite edition#or patch#vg: baldur's gate 3#series: baldur's gate#bg3 critical#discourse for ts
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ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, looking up skirt, panty stealing + sniffing + licking, masturbation, professional misconduct, 18+ minors dni.
pervy electrician!toji who unintentionally shows up a little earlier at your house than he was supposed to and is rewarded with the sight of a very unprepared you hurriedly rushing to answer the door in just a baggy t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks.
pervy electrician!toji whose usual disinterested expression he has permanently plastered upon his features during work hours morphs into one of subtle interest as his dark eyes leisurely drag up and down your figure — and damn, he never gets sent out to clients as hot as you.
pervy electrician!toji who greets you with a simple nod as he brushes past you to get inside, his scarred lips involuntarily twitching up into an amused half-smile at how you ramble out several apologies for not being ready for his arrival.
pervy electrician!toji who casually waves it off and assures you that he doesn't mind; and he definitely doesn't mind when it means that he gets to watch you walk around in front of him wearing that shirt that barely even covers your ass.
pervy electrician!toji who is as well-mannered as he has to be when conversing with a customer, but makes sure to inject a little more charm into his voice just for you as he drawls out "well, what seems to be the problem, ma'am?"
pervy electrician!toji who silently pats himself on the back when he notices you grow slightly flustered at the polite term he used to address you by, leaning against your kitchen counter as he watches you explain the issues you've had with your power frequently cutting out lately.
pervy electrician!toji who has to make a concerted effort to bite back a scoff when you explain that despite being married, your useless husband has no idea how to fix the problem himself so you had no choice but to resort to calling his company.
pervy electrician!toji who can hardly even comprehend that your sorry excuse for a husband just went to work for the day and left a precious thing like you here with no power; some fools really don't know how good they have it, do they?
pervy electrician!toji who finds a rare, genuine smile pulling at his lips when you joke lightly that you'd make him a cup of coffee if there was any power for the kettle. so you're pretty as hell and you have a good sense of humour... oh, he's in trouble.
pervy electrician!toji who investigates the fuse box located at the back of the cupboard under the kitchen sink while you dash upstairs to change into something more appropriate, humming a quiet tune under his breath while he works.
pervy electrician!toji who figures out what the issue is in no time at all — there's a small leak dripping from the pipe leading from the bottom of the sink that has trickled down and fried some of the wiring; shouldn't be too hard to fix.
but for some reason, he finds himself wanting to create a reason for him to stay around here just a little longer.
so, pervy electrician!toji 'accidentally' makes the leak even worse by using the spanner on his tool belt to stretch the hole in the pipe slightly wider, causing any working part left in the fuse box to fizzle out into uselessness as a result.
pervy electrician!toji who has to pretend to be inconvenienced by the problem that he just worsened once you return to the kitchen, scratching the side of his jaw and telling you that it'll take him atleast a couple of hours to try and salvage the fuse box.
pervy electrician!toji who isn't exactly lying when he says this; just refraining from telling you the whole truth that there is no way to fix the ruined thing now. the entire box has to be replaced and he doesn't happen to have a new one with him today.
...looks like he'll just have to come back tomorrow, too.
pervy electrician!toji who keeps himself busy pretending to attempt to mend things under the cupboard, but finds it quite hard not to be distracted by your pretty self sitting atop the counter where you insisted on staying to keep him company while he works.
but, at the end of the day, pervy electrician!toji is a man, after all — a man who can't help himself from sneaking a quick peek up the edge of the skirt you changed into, holding back a groan when he catches a small glimpse of your patterned panties.
pervy electrician!toji who claims he needs to use your bathroom a little while later, making sure you don't follow him up the stairs before sneaking through the hall until he finds you and your husband's shared bedroom.
pervy electrician!toji who finds himself rifling through his client's underwear drawer like a damn horny teenager, hastily pulling out a pair of cute panties similar the ones he knows you're wearing downstairs right now.
pervy electrician!toji who is way too worked up to feel any sense of shame as he pushes his baggy work trousers down, exposing the extremely noticeable tent and subsequent wet patch staining the front of his boxers.
"fuckin' hell," pervy electrician!toji rasps as he shoves a hand into his boxers, wrapping it around the base of his painfully throbbing cock as he begins languidly stroking himself. "driving me crazy here, girl." he mutters to himself.
pervy electrician!toji who can't stop himself from holding your panties up to his face, cursing under his breath when he remembers that these are a clean pair from your drawer. no — he needs a used pair if he wants to be able to properly get off.
pervy electrician!toji who sifts through your laundry hamper like a starving man searching for scraps of food in a dumpster, his movements fuelled by the sheer need to release the overwhelming desire coursing through his veins.
pervy electrician!toji whose scarred lips twitch up into a victorious smirk when he finally finds a dirty pair of your panties, wasting no time in pressing his nose against the slick-stained crotch and inhaling your scent. and fuck, is it an intoxicating smell.
pervy electrician!toji who is utterly pussydrunk without even being near your actual cunt, tongue instinctively flicking out on its own to lap lightly at the soiled material, a pornographic moan falling from his lips afterwards.
"shit. tastes s-so sweet, heh." pervy electrician!toji grunts as he resumes those earnest tugs of his furiously hard cock, his sloppy mouth just coating your dirty panties with his glistening salvia.
pervy electrician!toji who is cumming in record time like a downright pathetic and touch-starved virgin, one press of his thick thumb against his weeping tip causing it to spill rope after rope of milky release into his boxers.
pervy electrician!toji who does actually go to the bathroom after he's pulled his trousers up and shoved both pairs of stolen panties into his pockets, cleaning himself up as best he can and checking his reflection in the mirror to make sure he doesn't look too wrecked.
pervy electrician!toji who saunters downstairs and faces you with an easy smile as if he didn't just jerk off with your used underwear pressed against his mouth, sharing the news that he'll 'unfortunately' have to return tomorrow to replace the broken fuse box.
pervy electrician!toji who tells you his usual bill for the basic work he's done today, although secretly gives you a considerable discount — one because it's you, and two because he didn't actually do anything to fix your power issue and instead deliberately made it worse so he could stay longer.
pervy electrician!toji who releases an amused chuckle when you frantically dart around the house in search of your purse, coming to the sheepish conclusion that you must've left it in your husband's car that he drove to work this morning with.
pervy electrician!toji who simply shrugs and suggests that you pay him when he comes by tomorrow instead. little do you know, however, that you've already paid him... just in the form of an orgasm and two pairs of panties instead of money.
pervy electrician!toji who is counting down the seconds until he can see you again as he drives home in the company van, body relaxed and sated from his previous climax and pockets stuffed pleasantly full with stolen underwear.
he'd say that was all in good day's work.
© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.
LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
pervy lifeguard!gojo <- PREVIOUS PART.
#★sugoroo#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#toji smut#toji x reader#toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader smut
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want me to give you another one? ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
☾₊‧⁺...ft : gojo satoru + geto suguru + fushiguro toji + ryomen sukuna
☾₊‧⁺...cw : breeding kink, praise kink, spit kink, reader gets called 'mommy', dirty talk, teasing, overstimulation, satoru goes insane from pussy, suguru wants a girl this time, toji being in love with his wife, sukuna doesn't like when people insult his soon-to-be-wife, sukuna is dating single mom!reader
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i really wanted to do the 'our baby is so cute, i want another one' 'yeah? you want me to give you another baby?' trope so here we are ❤︎ i couldn't think if i wanted to do others but if you'd like more please let me know ! ❤︎ also, the toji one ? is actually a sneak peek of a longer fic i'm working on ehehe
✧ g. satoru : it starts off with you nuzzling in satoru's arms as he watches tv. satoru notices that you began to get clingier after you put your baby girl to bed. every night, you would press against him as if you wanted to merge with him and he couldn't help but tease you about it. so when he feels you nipping his neck and your hand running under his shirt? when he hears you oh-so sweetly whisper, "don't you want to give me another baby, satoru?" into his ear? he's eagerly nodding, ready to do whatever the mother of his first baby wants. but instead of letting him on top...you climb over him and that look in your eye tells him everything he needs to know : he's fucked.
"baby, baby, baby, please," satoru whines, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. he feels like he has no control of his hips, he's so sensitive, but he can't stop fucking up into you. not when you're like this, practically buzzing with need and crazed energy. "c'mon, s'toruuuu," you purr, hands splayed out on his chest. "cum f' me again? please, honey, you only came once, 's not enough." the room is hot, both of you covered in a sheen of sweat. how long have you both been going? he didn't remember, he lost count of how many times his hips desperately pressed up, shooting his hot load into your wet, needy pussy. but you just wouldn't stop. not that he minded, but fuck, you were making him so brainless. he can feel his thick cum gushing out of you each time you lift your hips, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the mattress. "h-hah, it's so fucking messy," he groans, unable to stop himself from cumming again. "f-fuck me, baby, t-there's so much cum, y'r pussy is so fuckin' sloppy." you just won't stop milking him, your soft and wet walls massaging him as you moan just from the feeling of being filled up again. god, you were making him insane, what got into you— his eyes snapped up to you when he felt the wet drop of one of your tears on his chest. those pretty lashes of yours were getting wet with tears as he felt your thighs starting to shake, a weak moan leaving you. "c-can't," comes a pathetic sob, your hips desperately grinding down on his cock, moaning when you feel it throb. "c-can't stop, 'toru, 's not enough, i need it, n-need it so bad!" when you finally look at him and make eye contact, he feels like he's been shocked because you look a mess... "give me another baby, 'toru, i want another one, gimme another one, please—!" with no hesitation, his feet are planted into the mattress and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he pounds into your dripping cunt, feeling himself cum just from the wail you let out into his ear. but he doesn't stop, he can't stop, not when his wife, his honey, his baby needs him to knock her up again so badly. "'m gonna give you whatever you want," he pants, his skin feeling like he was touching a live wire. "give it t'you 'til 'm empty, baby, gonna fuck you good, make sure it sticks, just like you, f-fuck, like y'want, yeah?" he feels you nod frantically against him, unable to speak from the way his cock drilled up into your pussy, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. "y-yeah, you want that, you fuckin' want that, s-s'just take it, baby, let me give you another fuckin' baby."
✧ g. suguru : your son had just turned one so you and suguru let his nieces, nanako and mimiko, come over to have a little celebration. seeing the way you cared for the twins and your baby boy the entire day made him think. his son was still a baby and had a lot of growing, but he knew the kid would look just like him with a few of your features. he's always wanted a girl, and helping his sister take care of the twins as they grew up only made the desire stronger. the two of you mentioned having another baby at some point, but the rest of the week, all he could think about was trying to get you pregnant again, maybe give you a girl this time...who knows, maybe he could fuck you so good you'd have twins.
"aww...i know, i know," suguru coos, his hand pressing into your tummy. that condescending smile on his face just makes you melt under him. he's slow and methodical with how he fucks you, like he wants you to remember every vein of his cock, how it curves up just perfectly that it nudges that spot where his hand is pressing down and makes you keen. his smile morphs into a knowing smirk, his free hand rubbing your thigh. "you're such a pretty mommy, princess. do you know that?" suguru's so sweet, he's so soft, he's treating you like your the most fragile thing on the planet. he sooo slowly grinds himself into you, his hand giving another little push down on your tummy. he's so sweet to you, such a loving husband... but you know. you can see it in his eyes, the hunger and deviance swirling around in those purple irises. he's getting you soft and pliant, melting into the bed as he praises you where he knows your weak. "taking such good care of my baby, aren't you? ," he praises. his hand is so warm as he starts to rub up and down your stomach. "such a shame the geto genes are so strong in the men. however." your breath hitches when he pulls all the way out before shoving his cock all the way in down to the base. you can't help the soft moan of his name, watching him lean down closer so that he's right over you. "the girls in my family always look like their mommy. what do you think, pretty girl? d'you wanna try? want to see if i can give you a girl?" as soon as you nod, suguru fully leans over you, using his arms to hold himself over you and he really starts to fuck you. he's merciless, managing to keep that stupid fucking smile on his face as his balls slap against your ass. "she'll be so pretty, just like her mommy, so so so fucking pretty," he coos as if he isn't making tears drip down your face. he loves seeing his baby like this, so sweet and pretty for him. "okay, angel. 'm gonna give you another one, gonna flood this cunt alllll dayyy longgg."
✧ f. toji : toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you. yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things. but god, did he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid he gave you. so when megumi tells you both what he wants for his birthday...“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly. “but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.” little brat. toji doesn't hesitate to let megumi have a sleepover with yuuji the next day, dragging you into the bedroom as soon as he gets back home.
“you want to give the kid a sibling, hm," he hums against your mouth, teeth tugging on your lower lip. you feel how hot the tip of his cock is as he rubs circles into your clit with it, smearing his precum all over you. "wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?" you just hummed, a little breathless. your hand came up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. “mm, honey, you've gotta stop asking questions you know the answer to,” you cooed, guiding him down closer so you could press a kiss against the scar on his lip. “don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.” after those words left your pretty little mouth, toji let out a laugh of disbelief, his mind instantly realizing that you, being a little minx, were 100% going to give him the worst breeding kink ever. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum, and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick. toji easily flips you over onto all fours and lines himself up with your slit. when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet. god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it messed with his head. you were almost too good to be true. each thrust he gave had you seeing stars, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you. it was almost too much, but you didn’t want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth. “shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ. c'mon, throw that ass back on me, mama, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushed him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full. he coos when he sees you beginning to jolt up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. that's he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes. "tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”
✧ r. sukuna : it honestly is his fault this happened, he's being snappy with one of the parents at the birthday party of your son's friend. sukuna knew better, he should've just ignored the bitch, but the comments she's making gets under his skin. "she hasn't given you kids of your own yet? that's too bad, i would've let you do that as soon as you proposed," she tries to flirt, batting her lashes at him. it just makes him sick. did this fucker not see the way sukuna looks at you? "oh, you probably don't know if she's the one you want to mother your kids, right," the woman next to him says, putting her fucking hand on his arm and he shoots her the meanest glare. "not everyone is mother material, but i-" "hey, we're leaving," he interrupts when you walk up to him, slapping the woman's hand off him as he gently wraps his arm around your waist. "i texted yuuji, that's why he's watching our kid for the rest of the day. c'mon."
sukuna is devouring you, his mouth unforgiving as he runs his tongue up and down your pussy. he's pissed, the way his tongue laps angrily at your folds as if your pussy is the reason he's upset. "fuckin' bitch," he snarls, spitting onto your clit before sucking on it. "thinks she can talk to my wife like that." you shakily gasp when he finally, finally looks at you, the sharp anger in his eyes making you shiver. you can tell he's not upset at you, but seeing him so riled up and knowing that he's using you to get it out of his system does something to you. "you know your mine right? that you're stuck with me 'til the day we die," he asks you, his thumb replacing his mouth as he rubs firm circles into your clit. "i'm your husband. you're my wife. you are fucking mine." he's about to say something else, but he stops, letting out a heavy sigh, subtly shaking his head. you catch it though, you always do. "suku, what's wrong," you shakily ask. "y-you can...can tell me, baby, what's wrong? did something ha-" "let me get you pregnant," he says, his voice low but desperate. he's moved from between your legs to over you, and you can see he's so hard, the tip of his cock an angry reddish-purple. "don't you want to give our son a sibling?" your eyes widen, not expecting him to ask that. having a kid with him...honestly didn't sound that bad. and the way he called your son 'our'...it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but give him a sweet smile and nod. "okay, 'kuna, we can start trying if you are sure. i'm still on birth control, but—sukunaaa!" he doesn't give it another thought, sliding all the way into you until his hips are flush against yours. he feels the way your arms wrap around him and scratch at his back, and as good as it feels, sukuna needs you to give him complete control. pulling your arms off him, he laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the mattress before rutting into you, the slap of hips against yours almost angry. "don' care about the birth control," you hear him growl, his eyes burning into yours. "'m gonna fuck you so fuckin' full of my cum that it bypasses it. it's got no fuckin' chance with how many times i'm gonna breed this cunt." the way he's talking to you, it makes your head spin and you know he feels how you clench down on him with the way he groans. "gonna fuckin' show everyone how good of a mom you are, gonna get you all swollen 'n' round with my kids," sukuna groans, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each snap of his hips. you can't help but look at him with those big eyes, disbelief and infatuation swirling in them. he likes this look on you, you just look so fucking in love with him, and it's all for him, just for him, no one else, just fucking him. "yeah? y'like that? that i'm gonna have a lil' family with my wife? give you as many kids as you want, 'n' all y'gotta do is take my fat cock as i breed you 'til it takes."
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#gojo smut#suguru smut#geto smut#toji smut#sukuna smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru smut#toji fushiguro smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#🔪 ── toji.#🍷 ── sukuna.#💎 ── satoru.#🔮 ── suguru.#𖤐 ── lxnarworks.
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