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cambion-companion · 2 years

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could you do smutty wedding night (aemond and reader marry for love 😊) and it's of course her first time and he's super sweet and worried

I may have outdone myself with this one.

Man, you guys just flood me with amazing ideas! I decided to finally write my take on a first night with Aemond after getting married. And added some tickle and playfighting in there because he would absolutely initiate that to make his new wife feel more at ease.

Aemond x fem!reader | virginity loss | playfighting | SMUT | 18+ only

Smoke and leather.

That's what your lover smelled like, his long silken hair tangled around your searching fingers as you buried your nose in the crook of his neck.

You could hardly remember the events of the wedding; it was all a blur of laughter and color...and anticipation.

Anticipation of this moment. Escaping to your newly designated rooms, kicking the door open, fumbling to undress, too busy wrapped up in each other to care about a ripped dress or knotted hair.

You were now the wife of Aemond Targaryen. The man you had fallen for as quick as a stone drops to the bottom of a pond. He was yours, and you were his. He seemed intent on proving how much you belonged to him, especially now as he nipped at your bottom lip, pushing his tongue rather aggressively into your mouth the better to taste you.

You groaned into him, fisting your hands in his hair, pulling his harder against you as he unlaced the last fastenings that held your dress to your body. It fell in pool of white velvet around your legs, you stumbled over it, Aemond catching you and bringing you upright once more, pressed flush against him, the thin fabric of your undergarments the only barrier between your flesh and his.

Your pebbled nipples brushed Aemond's chest, he palmed a breast in his large hand, his other hand caressing the bare skin of your waist, dipping underneath the waistband of your smallclothes.

You broke the kiss, pulling away slightly, suddenly shy. Aemond tipped your downcast chin up with a long finger, his lilac eye dilated as he studied your expression. "Do you wish to wait?" He was always so in tune with your emotions, and you knew he was terrified of scaring you away.

"No, Aemond, I just...need a moment to breathe."

He nodded, standing still, allowing you to take in his half-naked form. He was a specimen; tall and straight, his lilac eye glittering from the firelight, shimmering silver hair fell down his back and over his shoulders, the eyepatch hiding the sapphire you knew to be underneath. The planes of his chest and torso were lightly muscled, defined, accentuating his lithe figure.

Aemond's eye was also roving your body. He licked his lips, the straining in his trousers evidence he liked what he saw. Aemond took a few steps toward you, closing the distance. He reached out slowly. "May I?" You nodded, and his fingers found the dip of your waist once more, tickling your sensitive skin.

You flinched away from his touch, giggling at the sensation. His eye widened momentarily, before a mischievous smile tugged his curved lips. "My wife is ticklish, is she? What a fascinating discovery."

"Don't abuse your newfound knowledge!"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Even now you could see the intent on his face, his muscles tensing like a cat about to pounce on his prey. You squealed, trying to escape toward the bed but Aemond was too quick. He caught you, spinning you around and began to tickle you mercilessly upon your ribs and under your arms.

"Aemond!" You cried, laughing helplessly as you wriggled to free yourself from his clutches. "Aemond please!"

"Not quite how I imagined you would say those words, but I'm not complaining." Aemond chuckled, guiding you to the carpeted floor as your legs gave out.

The fur of the rug brushed against your back as you continued writhing, now pinned by Aemond's body pressed atop your own, making escape impossible, his hair brushing against your throat and chest adding to the overwhelming sensations.

All at once Aemond stilled, the torturous tickling stopped, and in its absence, you became keenly aware of his breath mingling with your own, the proximity of his lips, the way his hands gripped your hips.

"Aemond." Your voice was quiet now, barely a whisper.

But he heard.

Aemond tilted his head, his hair brushing your throat as you swallowed.

Your mouth was dry.

Your reached up, tracing Aemond's angular jaw with light fingers. Brushing the pads of your digits along the vertical scar, hooking them under his eyepatch and slowly pulling it off. The sapphire sparkled down at you, contrasting in loveliness with his purple eye. You continued touching him, trying to convey even an ounce of the adoration you felt for your betrothed...no, your husband.

"Y/N." Your name on his tongue sounded like the most ardent of prayers. "Tell me what you want."

Every inch of his body was pleading for you to acquiesce; to let him take you, claim you as his.

He waited, breathless.

"I want you, Aemond."

That was all he needed to hear. Aemond's lips were on yours once more, the heady feeling of him surrounding you, drinking you down as though you were ichor of the gods.

"Spread your legs for me."

He didn't have to ask twice, you immediately obeyed, feeling deliciously vulnerable as you opened to him.

Aemond made quick work of removing the last of your clothing, the cool air brushing over your intimate areas. You watched as Aemond sat up just enough to shed his trousers, freeing his hard member with a relieved groan.

You hooked your legs around his trim waist, wiggling slightly to position yourself for him to enter.

"You're not ready for me yet, my darling." Aemond moved off you, disentangling himself from your limbs.

He grinned in self-satisfaction as you made a mewl of discontent, quickly overcome by a moan of pleasure when his fingers found your aching cunt.

"Oh." You breathed, arching your back against the furs below, utterly disarmed by the bliss his fingers brought as they stroked your silken folds, circling your swollen bud.

"Look at me, my ember." Aemond coaxed, his voice as soft as the crackling fire. "I want to watch as you come undone on my hand."

You moaned his name, straining to touch any part of him as he sat above you, just out of reach. Aemond noticed, interlocking the fingers of his free hand with your own.

"How many fingers can you take, I wonder?" His eye flicked from your face to where his hand was working you.

You gasped as he pushed his middle finger slowly into you, unable to keep your hips from rocking against him.

"Gods. You are so tight." Aemond whispered, almost to himself. "You're going to feel so good around my cock."

Your brow furrowed as Aemond carefully pushed in another finger, pumping them into your heat, lewd wet sounds filling the room. Your cunt spasmed, the beginnings of climax already coursing through you.

"I want to feel you surrounding me when you cum." His gaze found your face once more as he removed his fingers from you. "I think you're ready."

"Please." You whimpered. "I need you inside me."

Aemond groaned, the tip of his cock already leaking precum as he knelt between your legs, pushing them open wider as he lined himself to your entrance.

"Relax, my love." Aemond watched your face for any signs of discomfort as he began pressing into your soft flesh. "Tell me if it's too much."

He was big.

You had never before experienced penetration apart from your own experimental fingers.

You raised your head to watch him enter you, his cock slowly disappearing as he pushed deeper. As aroused and ready as you were, there was still discomfort as your walls stretched to accommodate Aemond's girth.

Aemond's lips parted, his hooded eye never leaving your own. The look of bliss on his handsome face was enough to send another wave of arousal pooling in your core as he fully sheathed his cock within your soaking warmth.

He leaned over you, his chest brushing yours. Your hands came to rest atop his hips, holding him still. "Give me a moment, please."

Aemond bit his lower lip, nodding, his hair collecting in a silver pool on your skin as he kissed you. "Whenever you're ready."

It took only a few moments for you to adjust, you moved your hips underneath him to signal your desire for him to begin.

Aemond kissed you again, his breath filling your lungs as he pulled out almost all the way before pressing back into you in a fluid movement. You moaned loudly, thankful for the heavy stone walls muffling your cries of pleasure.

"Y/N." Aemond groaned, continuing to stroke languidly into you, his eye fluttering closed for a moment. "You're impossibly tight. I'm not-" Another little gasp escaped his lips. "I'm not going to last long."

His hips stuttered as your walls clenched, your legs wrapping around his trim waist, pressing the heels of your feet against his ass, trying to guide him deeper. "Aemond, please, a little faster."

Aemond took your mouth in his again, drinking down your moans as he rocked into you, setting a quicker pace, the sound of his flesh slapping against your own filled your ears, the musky scent of sex permeating the warm air as the two of you neared your climax.

"Do you feel any pain?" Aemond asked, his lips still brushing your mouth.

"No." You murmured, nipping his bottom lip. "I just feel you."

Aemond pressed his forehead against yours, rutting even harder into your heat, the wet sounds of your lovemaking growing louder as your orgasm began to take hold. You felt as though you were climbing into the very stars, your vision going white as your eyes rolled back. Aemond's teeth grazed your throat as you arched your neck, pressing your head back against the soft fur rug.

"Y/N!" You heard, as though from a great distance, Aemond saying your name over and again, his voice mingling with your own as you called for him to release himself deep within your quivering quim.

The force of your climax dragged Aemond over the edge and he slammed into you, spilling his hot seed, biting down upon your shoulder as your cunt milked him.

"Take all of me." He whispered, guiding your legs up until they pressed against your shaking chest.

Your vision refocused enough to watch as Aemond pumped into you several more times, remaining buried hilt deep until he felt satisfied his release would not spill as he pulled slowly out.

You felt bereft as Aemond's member left you, slick from your juices, his gaze upon your sex as he continued holding your legs aloft. You felt a drop of his cum begin to leak from your folds but before Aemond could react you reached down, scooping up the escaping seed and pressing it back into your warmth.

"Such a good girl." Aemond's voice was husky, his manhood already becoming hard once more. "Can you take any more?"

You brought your wet finger to your mouth, holding Aemond's gaze as you sucked the digit. "Yes."

The night had long turned to the early hours of the morning by the time he was finished with you. The both of you tangled in each other's arms, thoroughly spent. You had found your way to the bed eventually, only after Aemond had taken you upon the sofa and the dresser.

He had shown you an entirely different meaning to the term "dragon riding" and it was not without soreness you awoke the next day.

The sun shone brightly through the windows, Aemond's strong arms still wrapped around your waist, his head now pillowed by your bosom, the silver of his hair shining from where it fanned out over your bare skin.

He stirred as you stretched, opening his lilac eye and propping himself up on his arm, gazing down at you with tender adoration.

"Good morning." Aemond traced the shape of your lips with a finger before kissing you. "Or...good afternoon by the looks of it." He pulled back to measure your expression. "How do you feel?"

You had to take a moment to come up with the right word for what you were feeling. "Complete." You said at last, earning a smile from your husband.

"Allow me to indulge myself for a moment." He moved closer to you, knocking your knees apart as he pulled you flush to him by your waist.

You didn't resist, hooking your leg over his waist as you felt his ready cock now so familiar prodding at the junction of your thighs.

"Have you not been indulging yourself all night, my dragon?" You teased, your smirk disappearing as he slid inside you once again.

"I will never have my fill." Aemond kissed you sloppily, sleep still weighing upon both your minds even as he seated himself entirely within your cunt.

The stretching sensation that bordered on unpleasant last night now felt familiar and right, as though Aemond had been molded specifically for you. You moved slightly, getting more comfortable, expecting Aemond to begin fucking you into the mattress but he remained still, savoring your warmth.

You wrapped your arms around him as he nuzzled against your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sucking gently. You groaned, trying to move your hips but Aemond stopped you. "Let us just be still in this moment, Y/N."

Understanding dawned and with it a new emotion altogether different from the passion of the previous night. You carded your fingers through Aemond's argent hair, savoring the feeling of his mouth and tongue on your breast, his cock warm within your walls.

Your heart swelled; this intimate show of unconditional trust was a gift from your silver prince. He was the moon of your life, the man in whom you had found home.

Your one-eyed dragon.

Your ultimate protector and advocate.

His heart belonged to you, and you would guard it with your life.

Aemond's breathing slowed.

Your own eyes, though wet from the sudden stirring of emotion, grew heavy once more. The exhaustion from the night before still weighing on your tired muscles.

Sleep took you in a dreamless embrace. You felt the warmth of Aemond surrounding you, filling you. His familiar scent and his head resting atop your chest guided you into a slumber more peaceful than any you could remember experiencing.

You were home.

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yandere-kokeshi · 5 months

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Please give us your Gaz headcanons I need that man carnally

— Yandere Headcanons of Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Warnings: Yandere behavior, fanon ideas by me, civilian(ish) reader, unhealthy relationship, detailed talks of kidnapping, manipulation, and (slight) smothering affection.

A/N: I went a bit overboard, so please excuse me, LOL 🫶😘

Kyle is an obsessive man, committing his whole energy and mind to memorizing everything; including the sweet images of you. As sweet as he can be, he’s just as manipulative and gaslighting in a sense of keeping you safe. Supervising over your items, mostly your phone and friends, while securing the many facts you’re only safe with him.

As much as he hates it, many haven’t stayed with him. He’s loyal– maybe a bit too much. He’s had many heartbreaks because of the strong hearts on his sleeves, forcing him to realize many of his “lovers” were just with him because they needed love, not showing affection to the actual pieces of him.

It disappoints him. He needs love like everyone else. A certain somebody to help, to shield, to love. Someone he could count on after a hard day of work, and relax in their loving, warm embrace.

But, you weren’t any of those lying skanks.

No, you weren’t cruel, or tried to take advantage of him — even if you two were still best friends. You’re something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that he’d read late at night during high-school.

In all, meeting you was the best decision he’d ever make.

Walking into that coffee shop he regularly visited too, patiently waiting in line and finding his eyes swiftly landing on your form from behind, was the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. Feeling his heart batter so fast for you, equally told him that he’d love you forever.

He wasn’t sure what was so hypnotizing of you. Maybe the fact you didn’t care what you were wearing, going out in public and wearing your nightwear without a care. Or how your voice was so addicting, like he could listen to it forever; another form of an audiobook, is what he’d say. Or maybe, just maybe, how cute your tongue was when it blepped out like a cat, focusing on whatever you were watching on your phone, waiting to be seen by the barista.

You were too pretty to be ignored. Forgotten. To be used by another person- and immediately, he knew you were the one for him.

He bit his lip, ignoring the “what ifs” and went for it. His crush on you was far too much more than something simple. It was love at first sight on his part.

Kyle will start at slow, a hand grasping your shoulder and catching your attention; asking about your order and ending up with your phone number. Gentle flirting is what it is, and it makes you feel a bit lighted. A nice man, a hot one at that, coming at you at this lame coffee shop? What a score.

In all: Kyle goes down the “original” hole of getting to know you. Shows up to your apartment, holding a vase of your favorite flowers and asking you out brightly. But, of course, ignoring the fact that a few nights ago, he was scrolling through his laptop, and was clicking through your network profiles, finding himself adoring what he sees. Eagerly writing down your likes, preferences, dislikes, and best-friends. Even your enemies in thick red writing.

He goes all out on gaining your attention. Loves taking you out on all types of cliché dates, such as the arcade and late evening dates to a charming restaurant. Or his favorites, an inside-date with popcorn and M&M’s whilst watching a horror movie. Secretly hoping you’d get scared and, just maybe, roll into him for comfort.

It’s the small things that are first, his eyes following your form everywhere. He’s hoping you feel the same. Hopes that you feel your own heart beat just as fast as his. Hands sweating and all shaking whenever you imagine him. Or the fact you’ll crave him as much as he does.

And the second you agree to be his – the rightful love of his – is when he really starts to show how much he gives everything his all. The very suggestion of letting you even breathe near anyone or anything that might be of competition.

Within the relationship, it’s completely normal. It all started on a normal pretense, and made you two fall in love so lovingly. He’s so kind and sweet. An ultimate gentleman. Never pressures you to do anything, and loves forehead kisses more than anything.

Kyle’s type of affection is so loving. He loves any type of excuse to spoil you, especially with his home-cooked food, and loves to be held and be holding you at any time. A hand in your back-pocket is expected, and tries so hard not to pinch or squeeze your globes.

Showers you in compliments galore, even if it’s the smallest things. “So pretty with your hair like that today” “My shirt looks so good on ya’”, often rubbing his face deeper into your neck with his kind words. “So glad you’re mine, love.”

Oh, and, let’s not forget, he’s extremely clingy; emotionally and physically. Sending good morning and good night texts, just loves the idea of you thinking of him as you lay your pretty head on that pillow, as he does the same.

But, he’s a harasser who sticks by your side. Always wanting to be the one to drive you to work, hands touching yours as the two of you eat breakfast and dinner, even kissing you sloppy when he’s just brushed his teeth for that morning. But can you blame him?

To you, he was an amazing man — your norm boyfriend, turned into fiancé then husband. He loves you dearly. But, there’s a deeper, darker side of him that even you do not know.

Despite his laid and cool back approach, Kyle is constantly thinking of bloody and brutal thoughts. He’s aware he shouldn’t have them– but he can’t stop having them.

He snickers when a man barely brushes against you. Growls when someone unexpectedly touches you. Or how anyone else compliments you, he lets out a sigh and notices your smile is too bright. A tad jealous, but rarely shows it towards you, but rather in his mind where he’s satisfied with his type of savage ending.

Though, he’s not prone to aggressiveness. He’d never kill for you, never. His heart clenches even at the thought of you missing someone he murdered with his irony knife. And with that, he only uses his murderous tactics if needed.

And instead, he prefers using manipulation. Dropping subtle hints of the people around you, making you double-think of their actions and ensuring you’re aware of their dangers. You shouldn’t trust them, only him, okay?

However– if you began to see the red flags. The ultimate words of leave, and to break off with him, he won’t be so happy. He tried everything to keep you happy, and you do this? Betray his trust and say to you, “we aren’t compatible with each other”?

But, the both of you are, right darling?

Eventually, you will see that, and since you want to leave him, it’s necessary to keep you in the house. You can’t live without him. And nor can he without you. Both of you are puzzled for each other, and with time and dedication, Kyle will have you submitting to his ways. Even if it breaks his heart.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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z3nitsusgf · 10 days

Text

I, The Sun

Ch. 1 - In My Mind

ford pines/reader: NSFW, murder, violence against women, possession, manipulation, occult themes, dark fic.

first chapter of something I’ve been working on, it’s more of a introduction/exposition rn but I promise it gets better.

1976 - Gravity Falls, Oregon

Ford has been having these dreams lately. Unpleasant ones. Ones that leave him feeling sick, where he wakes up with his tongue stuck to his gums, and his body is in a cold sweat.

Where they feel so real that when he wakes he checks himself for injuries to see if it was a memory or not. He can't grasp the material reality with full intensity, a part of him seems to reside far away and beyond what's tangible.

His mind playing tricks on him, a cruel joke. Because the next flash of dreams is him on top of a woman, his hands strangling her until she gives way to the darkness and he’s plunging a knife into her abdomen over and over until she’s nothing more than minced meat. He realizes too late it’s you.

“Doesn’t this feel good?” A voice purrs in his ear, Ford is feral and bloodthirsty, ripping apart human flesh as if it were animal. A laughing soprano rings through his head and it hurts.

Ford wakes with a gasp, clutching his chest. He’s in his room, in his home, safe and sound. He attempts to slow his breathing, the dreams reeling through his head like a spool of film. The moonlight shines through his stained glass window, filtering in through shades of light pink and blue.

He sighs in relief, “just another nightmare.”

Something wet drips on his forehead and he wipes it away, when he looks at his fingertips it’s not water. Something thick and dark is smeared across the pads of his fingers. And Ford looks up slowly, he almost screams. Almost, another splat of blood falls into his parted mouth and Ford scrambles.

There, mounted on the ceiling of his bedroom, a doe head has been nailed to the wood. Mutilated and dripping its fresh wounds onto the scientist, its heart stabbed with a dagger and left to rot.

A painted message of red is smeared next to the head, it reads; ‘can’t run’.

Ford’s vision goes black.

You chewed on your pen cap, the smooth plastic sliding against your molars.

You sit at your cubicle, which was for a lack of a better word - missable; covered in pages from your previous articles and various bands. Rings of coffe stains and energy drinks line your desk, pens and notebooks scattered like autumn leaves. You stared at your computer screen, your new story a sort of meloncholic evil.

A man in your city had gone mad with schizophrenia and slaughtered his entire family. When the police entered the scene, there were decorations of blood and entrails around the apartment, the suspect rocking himself in a corner and wailing. You can imagine him, 45 year old Richard James. Skin and bones, reeking of innards and cigarettes.

Wondering how he got to this point of his life. When just a couple years earlier he was a school teacher and going to dinners with his wife and kids.

It’s a half-written entry, a simple narrative of the events. There was nothing special about it. You look up only when your editor called you into her office.

Miranda Perkins, a fat older woman who wore Hawaiian shirts and smelled of cat litter. Her office is straight out of a 60s JC Penny catalogue. Her window overviewed the parking lot, a shitty sight. But for the daily post in Sacramento, it was as good as it was going to get.

You sit in her uncomfortable chair, moving side to side until you feel any semblance of relief.

“How’s your story coming along, hun?”

She tapped her French tip nails along her desk, looking at your through big rounded coke-bottle glasses. A string of pastel crystal beads hanging from the sides.

“I’m almost done.” You were nowhere near that.

“Good, good. Abandon it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Abandon it!” She singsongs, waving a gaudy looking pen in her hand, “leave it for someone else.”

She was soft with you, probably because you reminded her of a daughter, or because you were soft. You sat in an uncomfortable silence, listening to the ticking of her wall clock and the hum of the FCU.

“How do you feel about Gravity Falls?” She asks suddenly, holding her pen to her temple. A small dot of ink left behind.

“It’s a small town, smack dab in the center of Oregon,” Miranda loved the facts, she got her socks off when writers knew the basic demographics of small unnoticeable towns. You preferred not to discuss your hometown however.

“It was founded by Nathaniel Northwest in the 1800s, it’s got a big touristy lake and the biggest business is logging. It’s full of old money, trash, and tourist traps.”

She hums, “So what’s going on down there?”

You sat in silence, thinking of anything important that you might of missed. Gravity Falls was a town that was not noticed, tucked away beneath Evergreens and trailer parks. The most that befell it was the occasional flood or simple robbery. You had hoped that when Miranda called you in, it would be to compliment your work, or even give you a raise.

“Your family still there?”

“Mom. Estranged dad.” And your half siblings that were born after you had left. You always forget their names though.

“You ever talk to them?” Not since Christmas when your mother sent a gimicky card of St. Nick that read, ‘Have a Joyous Holiday!’ It was polite, you figured after downing four whiskey sours that you could give her a call.

“Not recently.”

“Jesus, read the news once in a while. There’s been a murder. A woman slaughtered in the woods.”

You nodded like you knew, your mother was the only one you had little conversation with and she had said nothing. Curious.

“There’s been three in the past four months, police are saying it’s a cult. Sounds like a serial to me.”

You fiddle with your sweater, a gnawing feeling in your stomach.

“Go drive up there, get the full story.”

No fucking way.

“We’ve got freaky stories here, Miranda.”

“Yeah. And we have half the staff as we used to and half the cash.” She adjusted her glasses, the beads making a small clinking sound.

“This is our chance at a big story.”

You still didn’t want to go, hands gripping the arms of the chair as if she’d force you out. Miranda sighed, “Look hun, if you can’t do it… you can’t do it. But think about it, it’d be good for you.”

Miranda was a surrogate mother in a way you never expected. She always backed you, even when you fell short of expectations. You had the strange feeling of not wanting to disappoint her. You gnawed on your lip.

“I’ll go pack my stuff.”

You packed enough for seven days, confident that you’ll be back by next week. Also taking with you the notes and articles about the case and your notebook. You threw in a pack of Marlboro green and some shooters. As you glance around your apartment you realize how messy it is. Scattered articles, news clippings, take out containers, dead plants.

As you take a final look at your place, you look at a framed picture by the door. A young twenty-something year old you in 1972, hand in hand with your best friend and first ever boyfriend from college - Stanford Pines. You’re in front of BU Univeristy, freshly graduated with your degree in journalism and Ford in his anomalies.

You’re laughing, about what you can’t recall, but you haven’t ever had a smile that big in years. You hold his palm, lovingly. You wonder what he’s up to now, it’s become a mystery. You knew he had grant money for his research, you never followed up to where he went. You fell apart after college, the tether straining when Ford started to dive head first into his career, he became distant.

You like not knowing. In reality, you don’t know why you still have it. Especially displayed in your home as if you were still together. Perhaps that romantic side of you enjoys the nostalgia of it all.

You’d rather not divulge that can of worms.

The drive to Gravity Falls would take eight hours, by the time you make it to the shoddy motel on the outskirts you’re no more than ten miles outside of your hometown. It makes a thick seedy feeling creep up your spine. To be so close had vomit pooling in your stomach.

You down a couple shooters in your motel room, the sheets are dusty and leave you itching. You should probably think of questions to ask the detectives, you decide to down more shots of fireball and vodka. You pass out dreaming strange things; you dream of your childhood, the occult nature of the case, the eerie events that happened so long ago you weren’t sure they were real - you dream of Ford.

When you wake, you snatch a stale bagel from the open kitchen downstairs, heading to your beat down Buick and driving into town.

Gravity Falls couldn’t be spotted from a distance, the tallest building was the water tower near the center of town. The drive is nostalgic in a sickening way, the scenery is visceral. The majestic trees are broken up by the strip of road in the center. You pass the welcome sign, big wooden letters before you’re driving by the gas station.

You know this place like the back of your hand. On the Main Street, you find remnants of the charming town. A beauty parlor, a clothing store that sold exclusively knitted sweaters and skirts, the up-in-coming VHS store that sold second hand movies. There’s only one real place to eat here, and it’s a greasy spoon called ‘The Greasy Spoon’.

The people in this town were what you called - complacent. They grew up here, lived till they got old, and died here. People out here, it’s like they don’t even know the outside world exists.

You see familiar faces as you drive. Susan Wentworth, the diner woman who always called you honey and wore too much blue eyeshadow. Dan Corduroy, the large ginger lumberjack who inherited his family’s pass-me-down flannel and could eat 20 hot cakes without puking. The Valentino’s, who were funeral directors and were some of the nicest people you’ve ever met, fucking strange though.

You decided to drive to the police station first. When you approached the receptionist desk, she regarded you with chilled contempt. Filling at her red acrylic nails and motioning you to sit and wait.

“Deputy Blubs with be with you shortly.” She smacked her gum at you. You sat like a patient dog, the shitty AC churning in the afternoon heat. You read the outdated magazines splayed on the small table, the scent of old paper and dust filling your nose. The magazines were from the 60s, full of outdated trends and styles.

When Blubs walked in he was already sweating through his uniform. Blubs was the upcoming deputy of the town who had a handlebar mustache and never took off his aviators. The receptionist motioned to you with her pen, mouthing the word “journalist” with disgust.

“Deputy Blubs, I’m with the Daily post in Sacramento.” You shake his hand, giving him your name as you follow him to his office.

He raises a brow, “Why are you all the way up here?”

He plops in his chair, “I want to talk about the recent events happening here, the women in the woods.”

“Good lord, how the hell did you hear about that all the way in Sacramento? Jesus.”

You shrug, “it’s a big deal, women going missing and showing up dead.”

“Listen,” he sighs, heavy and tired, “I don’t want this to get out.”

You gesture with your hands, “not really up to you Deptuty, the public deserves to know the danger going on.”

Blubs scoffs, looking out his window, “why’da you care now? You people never cared before about Gravity Falls.”

“You’re right. But this isn’t gonna be some exposé. This is important. And besides, I’m from Gravity Falls.” You let your voice die off at the end, like admitting it was some awful curse. He stares hard.

“What’s your name again?” You tell him, he rubs his stubble.

“My mother married out of her maiden name. It’s Evans now.”

“Ah, I know ‘em.” Everyone knew everyone here.

“Listen I can’t tell you much,”

“I don’t need much.”

Blubs sighed, contemplating.

You left the police station with a location of where the most recent woman was found. The old church back up in the woods.

Mallory Windsor, 22, found in the ruins of the old church. Couple of raw-boned, edgy teens found her when they were vandalizing the decrepit building. She’d been strangled, bound, stabbed 25 times, and her teeth were missing. Safe to say her funeral was a closed casket.

You trek through the woods to the taped off crime scene. The cawing of ravens bounced off the trees and your boots crunched the pine needles on the ground. You notice traces of dried blood on the cracked floorboards, claw marks from where she was dragged, and a tuft of blonde hair that’s stuck in between a broken branch.

You noticed in the plank on the wall, carved into the wood, was a triangle with an eye in the center a circular ring around it with markings unknown to you. You drew it in your notebook, you’d have to look that up later. As you walked around, you collected as much as you could with what Blubs told you.

Mallory worked at the boutique in the town square, she was considered playful and gentle by her family. They said she recently started going to church, that she had found God. Others say she was a no-good sneaky whore, running off in the night to hang with married men. Her mother was devastated to learn of her daughters death, saying her sweet little girl was taken too soon. The people of Gravity Falls were gossipy, they loved having “friends” over to discuss their neighbors or coworkers or what have you.

You, despite being a journalist, hated picking apart peoples lives like they were nothing more than a dead frog on a table. Perhaps that’s why you’re not a top story writer.

Your mind wandered, thinking about pre-teen you, running through these woods and scraping your knees and getting bug bites the size of pennies. Those strange little creatures that would run past you, growling when you got too close. You stopped and touched the crumbly dirt, picking at stones and watching little ants march their way through the muck.

You shivered at the feeling and felt as through you were being watched. But when you whipped around to stare, all the stared back was the towering evergreens and the sunlight filtering through.

This place always did leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You decide to end your night at the Greasy Spoon.

Walking in the log shaped diner, the scent of butter and too much maple wafted through the air. The tables were 50’s linoleum, the booths sticky with syrup. When you entered you noticed Susan still serving, some things never change.

“Just take a seat hun, I’ll be with you in a moment.” She swivels on her kitten heel, her big up-do bobbing. You always wondered how she could handle the weight of that on her head.

You pick a booth close to the back, the only other patron a man with his head glued to the local newspaper. You didn’t need a menu, and you’re sure as shit it hasn’t changed. Simple as a rock and cheap as dirt.

When Susan approaches, she holds her notepad and pen. She looks up with a smile that turns into a gasp.

“Oh! Oh my goodness gracious, why sweetheart I haven’t seen you in ages!” She leans over the table to give you a side hug. It’s awkward and leaves you drifting on one side as you pat her back. Cheeks hot with the attention.

“Hello Susan, nice to see you again.” You give her a half smile, nails digging into your jean-clad thigh.

“My, you’ve grown! Gosh you look like your mother. Anyways, same as before right? Steak and eggs?” You nod, a little awed she still remembers, and you don’t have the heart to tell her you’re not in the mood for meat right now.

“I’ll whip that up in a jiffy.” She singsongs, happily trotting back to the kitchen, shooing at a raccoon that had crawled into the window sill. You glance around the diner, looking over the jukebox and the stool-top. It’s all the same picture perfect small town diner like when you left.

You glance up, happening to look at the booth across from you. In it, you see a ghost. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. Your breath hitches, you’re starting to pick at the skin at your fingertips, feeling the raw bite of plucked flesh.

Stanford fucking Pines. In the flesh.

He’s staring, looking at you with wide owlish eyes, the brown gleaming under his lenses. He’s grown older, the lines of his face getting deeper, more textured. The crows feet between his brows is more prominent now.

“Ford-“ Susan plops your plate down in front of you, a heaping steak with eggs over-medium and potatoes. She puts a bottle of hot sauce on the table and winks,

“What brings you back here, hun? Seen your momma yet?”

You nod, a lie. “Just up here for work, Susan. Writing about the Windsor girl.”

Her smile drops, a flush of red creeping up her puffy cheeks. “Oh, that was a horrible thing. Poor girl, I can’t believe it.”

You nod, poking your egg yolk till it pops and spills golden liquid all over your potatoes. There’s a beat of intense silence, it’s uncomfortable.

“Well, I best let you enjoy your dinner, hun.” She waves her red acrylics and smiles, turning around to busy herself with the register.

When you look back at Ford he’s still star-struck, almost as if he’s looking at someone’s faded memory of you. He stands quickly from his booth, collecting his newspaper and book. He dresses almost the exact same as he did in college; dawning a soft red turtleneck, slate colored khaki’s, and a beige trenchcoat. His hair is still long, the ends fluffed up and starting to grey. Streaks of white striping like paint. His eyes were tired, heavy bags that were almost purple. He looked exhausted.

For a moment, you think he’ll walk past you without saying anything. Thinking that after all this time, he’d not want to speak to you. You’d rather that than make painful small talk about your life.

But he stays, sliding into your booth with nothing more than a shy, “Hello, it’s been a while.”

You nod, sipping your tap water. The tension is unbearable, you have no idea where to start or end or if you should even be talking to him in the first place. Things didn’t end so sweetly.

“Listen-“

“I-“

You both speak at the same time, blinking hard and looking down. You breath in, almost choking on the smell of a burning skillet and the insufferable feelings molded on your stomach.

“How have you been, Stanford?”

You offer this, a small olive branch.

He gives this grin that’s more of a grimace. Smoothing his hands over his journal, he can’t see the way you grip the booth cushion. He nods, “I’ve uh, I’m good. Research is going good.”

Always awkward, even in college. He was a nerdy little thing, more boy than man. So wrapped up in his books and notes and anomalies. You liked it, you were obsessed with the way he was so passionate. No one back home did anything with their lives except smoke, drink, and gossip.

At first, you hated him. Hated his ego and how he thought everyone around him was a sorry excuse and a waste of space. Something changed, things happened, you hate-fucked and bit one another, then you thought about how secretly sweet he was. You remember your first kiss with him, how he held your face and you panted into each others mouths.

“How did you end up here?” You ask, stabbing a potato with your fork. How long has he been here? Becoming infected with your town; grocery shopping where you first worked, strolling through the park you beat up a bully on, passing by your elementary school. How long has he lived in the place you wanted to forget existed?

“I, um, I moved here right after we graduated. Built a cabin, started my research, even had Fiddleford come help me a bit.”

Fiddleford, your cookie-cutter southern country boy. He was interesting, thick accent and smarter than most. You hung around him when you were seeing Stanford. They were buddies, college roommates, and now you learned - research partners.

Your food was growing cold, you could not stomach any of it. A rotting feeling of apathy was gnawing at your stomach. Ford waved his hands in the air, “Enough about me, how are you? Why are you here?”

It makes a fish-hook bite of anger pierce through you.

“I’m from here.” You mumble, shoving a forkful of runny eggs and potato in your mouth. Ford’s eyes widen, like a slap of realization.

“Right. Right you are, I had-“ forgotten. He had forgotten almost everything about you. You expected as much.

“You haven’t been up here in a long time.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating the obvious. You knew that if he was here since college and you weren’t such a coward, you’d have seen him sooner. Perhaps, you would have come up to reconcile had you known. A falseness you tell yourself.

“You mentioned you’re writing about the Windsor girl, how’s that going?”

You flick your eyes to his neck, trying to look anywhere but his eyes, it’s mostly shielded by his red turtleneck. But you see the creeping of an ugly hickey, dark maroon splotches sucked like leeches onto his skin. You clench your jaw.

“Fine, all’s fine. Gotta interview a couple people. Why? You knew her?”

Ford sips at some coffee leftover, eyeing you over the rim. You’re different now. So… sullen. He still remembers the softness of your voice, even now with the rasp of time and cigarettes. You’ve still got that snappy little bite, the one that had him wrapped around your finger.

“No. Never met her.”

There’s a trickle of something faintly sulphuric in the air, you think you’re hallucinating or Susan has burnt yet another hot cake. Probably just tired from today. Ford gives you a small smile the lifts the corner of his lips.

You and Ford make more pitiful conversation on the way to your car. It slowly dissolves into something that could be considered good-natured. A distant association, something platonic.

“Where you staying?”

Where indeed. You could go back to the motel but you haven’t got much money. Or you could stay with your mother. You grimaced at the thought and Ford notices your contemplation. You might just sleep in your car.

“Could stay the night with me.” He shrugs, hands deep in his pockets as the nighttime breeze drifts through the air. You look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Not like that!-“ he holds his hands up, “I have a spare bedroom.”

You nod, toeing the dirt path with the toe of your boot. It’s like being in college all over again.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He smiles, gesturing to your car.

“I’ll give you directions.”

You take your keys out and unlock your driver door, “You didn’t drive here?”

He shakes his head, “No, I was out collecting specimens for my research.”

His research, he never did tell you what exactly he was studying. You shrug, “Okay then, hop in.”

Stanford’s cabin is out of the way of town. Far out into the woods, surrounded in towering trees and foliage, you pull of the main road and onto a dirt one. A clearing in view, there sits his home.

It’s nothing special, simple construction with a lopsided roof and creaky splintering wood. It looks haunted, you don’t say that out loud though. That would be rude and you don’t want to be rude to the man about to share his home with you, no matter how dark and creepy it looks from the outside.

Inside isn’t much better, it’s hardly decorated. You almost chuckle in a way, it’s so similar to your own apartment. Papers and notes are tacked into the walls, jars and bottles of strange things are lining tables and shelves. He has warm citrus colored lightbulbs, it illuminates around the cabin and makes it glow with an orangey hue.

“I apologize for the mess, I don’t have many visitors.”

He scrambles to collect notes and papers strewn like confetti, huffing at the state of his home. You wave him off, “Nah, don’t worry about it.”

You’re getting eye level with his shelf; there’s jars of eyeballs, mysterious goo that shimmers iridescent, and other weird stuff.

“What is all this?” Ford straightens his back, adjusting his glasses.

“My research. I’m here investigating the anomalies of Gravity Falls.”

You purse your lips, a strange feeling creeps into your body.

“What do you mean?”

Ford gives you a stifled look that screams ‘really? Gonna play that game?’ And you shrink away.

“Are you saying you never experienced weirdness here? Strange things in the woods?”

The woods. Blonde hair, hanging entrails, missing teeth. Your breath quickens, you feel yourself sinking. Everything is fuzzy and you can’t breathe, he shouldn’t be poking around a place like this. He touches your shoulder and you flinch harder than you should.

“No! No, the only thing weird around here is how the people are so fucking happy to die in this shithole.” You swipe his hand away from you, flashes of childhood summers spent exploring those woods.

When you would wade in the creek with your head poking out to watch the gargantuan wooden monsters slowly drag themselves through the forest. Creatures that would follow just two steps behind you, cracking joints each time they moved. Monsters that would take shape of familiar animas, then skitter away when you got close. Screams would echo throughout the evergreens, things unseen. How can anyone witness a tree falling if they didn’t hear it?

Ford retracts his hand, looking at you with worry. Eyes softened, lips slightly parted, brows furrowed. You hate it. You hate when people look at you with pity and anguish, like you’re a soft underbelly of a doe waiting to be sliced open.

You shudder, “I’m sorry, sorry. I just, I’m tired. This case got me all worked up.”

You rub your own arms in comfort, avoiding to look at Ford in his big watery browns. He nods, “of course, I’ll show you to the room.”

He leads you gently to the spare, bag in hand and other on the small of your back. The room is clean, neat, and painfully sterile. Devoid of any personality or substance. It’ll do just fine.

“Not many people use this, sheets are clean and there’s a bathroom down the hall to the left. I’m only the next door down.”

You nod slowly, the wearing exhaustion is making your head throb and your bones ache from sitting for so long. Ford pats your shoulder, “don’t be afraid to knock on my door if things go bump in the night.”

You want to hit him. He chuckles at your sour frown, turning to leave you when you call out to him.

“Thank you, Stanford. I really do appreciate it.”

He gives a half-pained, half-sincere smile and walks into his room. You hear the clicking of his lock, you do the same.

There is an ominous silence that makes the cabin, so deathly quiet that you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You scramble to turn on the lamp, exhaling in relief at the warm glow on your face.

Ford is next door, you are not with your mother, things are fine. You are fine. You will not acknowledge the scratching at the walls, nor the tapping at the window. You will pretend everything is normal, that this town is normal, that you are normal.

You fall into a restless sleep, tossing and turning until you succumb. Ford is prowling, just beyond your bedroom, he has slipped outside into the cool night and has disappeared into the woods.

You won’t even know he’s gone by the time you wake up in the morning.

#val.writes ❦#ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #ford pines #gravity falls stanford

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youronlylie · 5 months

Text

hello people in my phone

BOONE head cannon list, just a mix of stuff that'll probably change later ( THERE WILL BE MORE ) 1/?

• He undoubtedly was ripped/heavily worked out being in the ncr, after moving to novac and loosing his wife he undoubtedly lost a lot of muscle but...guys he still is literally like beefed.

• He cannot fucking cook for shit, he understands what shouldn't be put in your body but from there he has no clue.

• Going off of cooking, he has strict times where he eats, like routine from the ncr.

• For some reason he strikes me as a guy who really enjoys fruit whenever he can get his hands on it.

• Cannot tolerate any sort of spice.

• Smells very mettalic, sweaty, like man must.

• Has a soft spot for cats.

• 1000% is not bald, just shaves his head as he probably prefers the look.

• I feel like with a romantic partner, since he isn't one much for talking his love language would be physical touch or gift giving, I could imagine him seeing stuff he knows they'd like and saving it for later, excited to see how they'd react.

• He would definitely have a special place in his heart for fantasy movies, he doesn't seem to be able to express himself well and I feel like the creativity of something like lord of the rings would get him going.

• I seriously cannot pick so I'll include both, he is either an extreme cuddler with a romantic partner or on very rare occasions, he's just terrible at expressing emotion.

• If the courier and him are something like romantic partners he'd definitely never be able to sleep, often awake staring and listening for noises, waiting for the next cascade of legionares but it never happens and he eventually learns that.

• I don't think he'd ever get married again unless it'd be over 20 or so years in the future, it's a type of commitment that I don't think he could mentally handle whatsoever unless he is totally over Carla.

• I definitely do think boone could find love again in another person, he's scared and alone, fearful for any sort of attachment.

• 10000% has really really nice man hands, like large hands with nice fingers.

• Is definitely tall but not close to arcade tall, 6' ish at MOST, I just feel like looking at his build and concept art that he is definitely a tall man.

• Secretly really has a thing for drawing whenever he can, especially when he was nested at novac, sitting up top the dinosaur scribbling stuff on old receipts or whatever else it helps him get his emotions and thoughts out.

• irl he would be so patriotic it's not even funny, like he'd go all out for fourth of July but is the somber type so he'd cook hot dogs and whatever else then sit in the corner and watch everyone else.

• Has a thing for memorizing features, very very very intuitive and will remember almost anything you tell him.

• He is so the type of guy to enjoy snow, like yeah he'd probably be kinda pissy for a bit but if you pushed his buttons enough I feel like he'd mess around with the courier.

• He absolutely like no doubt has nightmares, like the ones where you erupt in cold sweat and your throat is sore.

• If he does sleep like ever, along with nightmares he grips the sheets, rolls around a whole lot, mumbles. In the ncr he was the total opposite, stone faced, layed straight and slept some what peacefully until later on in his ncr years.

• Yearns for someone, even platonic, to just sit beside him, no words and scratch his back and kinda just touch him lightly. I don't think he'd cry but it's something I could imagine would bring him close to tears.

• He absolutely probably finds almost everyone annoying, like, he just is done with everything and doesn't give two shits about what anyone has to say unless the courier puts some sense into him.

• Really disagrees with gambling, just doesn't like it.

• Wishes he had a nice farm house, out somewhere away from everything, where it has everything he needs and could be away from absolutely everyone. ( of course after extracting revenge on the legion )

• He wants to learn how to play guitar, either he has tried and is horrible or has just never gotten the chance, I have a feeling he'd really be into (irl) like classic rock or something smooth.

• Cannot look at people with features his wife had the same, down to personality or looks.

• Absolutely dreads deep down without realizing going back to novac when the courier disbands him.

• He would like having books read to him, he's a listener not a reader, likes hearing people's voices just not his own.

• At a point probably had a nickname for his rifle, something like Beth or something that was a joke between him and Manny.

• Manny 1000% at a point tried hinting to boone or even confessing his love for him, either the point never got across or they got over it together. ( somewhat ish at a point )

• In all reality I play him out to be a really sweet guy, which I can imagine and he can somewhat tend to be but he ultimately really doesn't care, he'll kill in order to get what he wants ( so be it revenge or whatever else ) even if he isn't necessarily fond of it.

• At a point, consumed by guilt he forgets what Carla looks like and that eats him up inside, like the teeth gritting soul crushing ache for revenge, and a year or two leads him to completely forget her complexion.

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stellamancer · 1 year

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(un)mentionables — fem!reader x satoru gojo

notes: real talk. i used to have this really cute light blue lingerie set and that was the inspo + aleks talking about gojo's massive dick ripping through lacy panties. that doesn't happen here, though, sorry lmaoo. uh. don't know what else to say. this is part of the infinite loop ficverse.

wc: 1.3k

contains: fem!reader (no pronouns or gendered language), suggestive situations but not anything explicit, pre-relationship (one day i'll write this established relationship fic for these idiots but not today)

You think you might as well be dead.

Ultimately, you have no one to blame but yourself for this; you should have known better than to let Gojo grab the spare water bottle from your overnight bag. In fact, you should have known better than to let him anywhere near your overnight bag. It’s not that you think him the type to just go rifling through your things without an ounce of respect for your privacy; it’s just that you know that Gojo has a knack for putting you in mortifying situations as if he’s being paid to.

“Well, well, well, what’s this?”

You whip your head around so violently that you feel a pulse of pain throughout your skull, but it is quickly forgotten when you see what this is. Gojo has certainly found the water bottle you’d offered him, but, somehow, looped around the bottle’s neck is a pair of lacy, sky blue panties that you’d haphazardly thrown into your overnight bag.

There’s little that you’d like more than passing away right here on the spot.

Gojo gingerly plucks your underwear from the bottle and shoots you a roguish grin, his eyebrows lifting suggestively. “Didn’t think you were the type to wear lace.”

You scowl and march over to him, hand whipping out to snatch your panties back from him. Surprisingly, he lets you, and you ball them up tightly in your fist. “You’re right, I prefer cotton.”

“Then where did those come from?” Gojo points at the bright blue fabric peeking through your fingers.

“How is that any of your business?” you snap.

“Just curious,” Gojo says nonchalantly. He’s still smiling though, and it annoys you.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” You roll your eyes as you toss the panties back in your bag behind him.

“And satisfaction brought it back,” Gojo finishes the entire idiom. Of course he’d know the last half of it. “Since you’re saying that, does that mean you’re going to tell me?”

Your eye twitches as you weigh your options. Refusing is the most obvious and natural option, but Gojo is nothing if not persistent. He won’t shut up if he really wants to know that badly. You don’t know why he would, but then again, he probably just would pester you for the sake of being annoying. Sometimes, it’s easier to just give him what he wants so you can move on. So that’s what you decide to do, looking away as you admit, “...it had a matching bra that was really cute.”

Gojo is silent. Unnaturally so. You would have expected him to fire off some wise ass quip, so this response, or lack of, is actually a little unnerving. Starting to feel a touch concerned, you look at Gojo, and though you cannot see the focus of his gaze with that blindfold in the way, you can just tell that he’s staring at you.

You’re not sure if you should feel proud over the fact that you’ve rendered the famous motor mouth Satoru Gojo speechless.

It’s over in an instant though, as his mouth moves to finally speak.

“Show me.”

His voice is low, quiet, as if he’d breathed out the words without even realizing it.

A strange feeling runs straight down the length of your spine, leaving you breathless, the staccato rhythm of your heartbeat almost deafening you. That was unexpected; his words, his tone, all of it.

You gawk at Gojo, trying to figure what to make of it, and he is still in a way that he never is. His lips are slightly parted, and you have no doubt that he is still staring at you, but you cannot even begin to imagine the shade of his eyes right now. Is it the bright shining aquamarine of the sky? Or the dark glimmering sapphire of the sea?

You don’t know. You don’t know. You want to though; you want to know. You want to rip that blindfold off to find out. You want to memorize every shade and every hue. You want to—

When you realize where your train of thought is heading you shake your head, senses returning to you with a start. You don’t know how two words managed to hijack your thoughts like that, but you will have none of it. Back on track, you demand, “Why the hell would I show you?”

Gojo’s lips curve upwards into a familiar grin, and you’re secretly relieved that he seems to be back to normal too. “Feelin’ shy? We’re both adults here.”

You know what he’s doing, but you’re not playing that game. There’s a lot of things Satoru Gojo can goad you into, but this is not and will not be one of them. “That’s beside the point.”

“Thought you said it was cute,” Gojo says, not giving up.

“Oh, trust me, it is,” you respond. “But I’m not showing you.”

“Why not?”

“I— Gojo, you can’t seriously be asking me this,” you groan.

“I’ve seen you in a swimsuit before,” Gojo points out matter-of-factly. “Is there really a difference between that and lingerie?”

His question gives you pause. Technically, you see his point. Technically. But he’s not quite right. “You are not someone I would be showing my lingerie off to. We are not like that.”

“Meaning you showed it to that loser ex-boyfriend of yours?” Gojo asks flatly.

You actually bought the set after you broke up, but Gojo doesn’t know that. “And if I did?”

(Annoyance, white hot and all consuming eats a hole in Satoru's stomach. He doesn't get why he's so mad. It makes sense. It makes sense.

You'd dated that lame excuse of an assistant manager for nearly a year, so it would make sense if he'd seen you—

Splayed beneath him. Disheveled. Exposed. Sky blue lace hugging your hips. A soft smile playing at your parted lips, kiss swollen and hungry for more, begging for more.

God, Satoru wishes he—

His entire body feels hot. Satoru's not sure if it's the rage or something else.)

"You and him aren't like that anymore, so I don't see the problem," Gojo says with a shrug.

If you could kill Satoru Gojo you would do so in a heartbeat. "Gojo, don't be ridiculous."

"Can't help it; it's my speciality," he says, cheekily sticking his tongue out. He tilts his head to the side, and though you can’t see directly, you can just imagine the expectant look in his eyes.

"I’m not showing you.”

Gojo pouts. If he thinks that’s going to convince you, he may as well quit his job as a jujutsu sorcerer and start a career as a stand-up comedian. “Do you really think it’s fair to let dumb losers see the supposedly cute lingerie when super cool and strong sorcerers like me get left in the dark?”

“Life’s not fair,” you dead pan at Gojo. Though it’s not like someone like him would really get that. “And he’s not a loser, you are.”

“Oh, so does that mean you’ll let me see?”

“I—” You start before grumbling. This is getting nowhere. At this rate the both of you will be bickering back and forth until the end of the night and you, for one, would like to have dinner (not with Gojo). “You know what, fine. I’ll show you, but if and only if, we run across some freaky-ass curse that melts clothes.”

You think your proposition is impossible. In fact, you're sure of it. So much so, that you think Gojo will call you out on it.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he grins with eager childlike excitement. "Really? You serious?"

You don't get his reaction. He does know that the chances of that happening are basically one in a bazillion, right? But then again, Gojo is a complete weirdo so you don't question it. Shrugging, you answer. "Yeah, sure."

Finding said freaky-ass curse that melts away just clothes sounds damn near impossible, so you don't see the harm in agreeing. There's basically no way you'll run into one, meaning no way you'll be giving Gojo an eyeful of your cute lacy sky blue lingerie.

You find out that Satoru Gojo must be the luckiest bastard on the face of the planet, because you end up eating your words two weeks later.

gojo why are you so pathetic lmao.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #nikuniku fics #infinite loop!verse #idk what else to say #in case anyone was wondering #the bra in question was a lacy racerback bra #actually he shouldn't be let near that #bitch is gonna break the front clasp omfg

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hyunsvngs · 8 months

Note

you and your boyfriend jisung are no strangers to adventurous sex, be it trying and switching between different dom/sub roles, exploring kinks with each other, roleplaying, using toys on either, or watching porn together. but, for the first time, his newest idea left you pretty shocked.

you both are a little tipsy after deciding to crack open the bottle of whiskey that’s been sitting in your kitchen, which is probably why he felt comfortable in suggesting this to you to begin with. you look at him, eyes wide, mouth open slightly, trying to replay his words in your head to make sure you heard him right. he looks at you awaiting your answer, hopeful but nervous. “so… you want to just… watch?” you ask him, still unsure if you’re imagining things. “y-yeah. i think- i think it’d be really hot…”

you can’t say that you haven’t thought about how attractive minho is. he’s very obviously a beautiful man with his starry, cat-like eyes that feel like they’re piercing right through you, his strong arms and the veins that protrude in his hands and forearms, his thighs that are all muscle, and his stupid fucking cunning personality that makes you feel a little weak in the knees when he decides to tease you, even though it’s in a friendly way. you recognize all of these things, annoyingly, but you love jisung more than anything in the entire world and would never make any move that would hurt him, especially flirting with his best friend.

so when he suggested watching you and minho having sex, you felt a mixture of emotions. confused, horny, anxious, horny, worried, horny and… oh, horny. “i dunno, i think it would be so sexy to watch you feel good and…” he looks down and away a little, embarrassed at his next words “i think you two would look so pretty together,” in a voice so quiet you barely heard the last part. “i- are you sure?” you ask, still dumbfounded. “yes, i’ve thought about it for awhile already” he looks back at you shyly and you search his eyes for confirmation. “if you’re sure you’re okay with this, i think it could be fun, but if y-“ his eyes full with excitement and relief before he cuts you off with a deep kiss, moving to lay you back on your couch and crawling on top of you.

after some sober discussions and jisung talking to minho privately, ensuring that he is also into the idea, you find yourself on your knees on the bed, minho behind you, thrusting his hard cock into and holding your arms behind you for leverage while you moan and whimper, looking at jisung when you find the strength to open your eyes. he’s sitting just at the end of the bed, palming his erection through his sweatpants while watching your face contort with pleasure. you want to focus on him more but you feel your brain melting in your skull with every thrust of minho’s very skilled hips. “tell him how good it feels, kitty.” minho growls while moving one hand from your arm into your hair, pulling lightly which rips another moan from your throat as he continues you push into you roughly. “i-it feels so good, sungie. he’s fucking me so good i can hardly think straight.” jisung groans as he palms himself harder “yeah, baby? he’s fucking you so good you can hardly keep your pretty eyes open?” he moves to put his hand into his sweats, searching for some relief to his aching, leaking cock.

minho pulls out and you whine in protest, but before you can formally complain, he flips you over onto your back, settles your knees on his shoulders, and buries himself back inside of you before grabbing your hips with both hands, resuming his rough pace. you can’t hold back the series of moans that are elicited by the new angle. “fuuuuck that feels fucking amazing, holy shit.” your toes are curling and you hands search for something to hold onto before settling for grabbing the bedsheets. you feel weight shifting above your head on the bed before hearing jisung’s voice right next to your ear in nearly a whisper “oh, my baby, you’re feeling so good. you’re gonna cum soon, aren’t you?” “ye-yeah, yes… i’m gonna cum so good, baby” you whine in response. jisung’s hands move to snake over you body, abandoning his poor cock, unrelieved and still trapped in his pants. his hands find your breasts and he begins alternating between kneading them and playing with your erect nipples. his lips find fond your neck and he peppers it with kisses before lightly sliding his tongue across the smooth skin and sucking gently on the part that he knows is sensitive. minho’s unrelenting pace coupled with the attention that your beloved boyfriend is now paying to you body has you falling apart in seconds, your high causing your body to feel white hot and your vision yo go fuzzy. minho fucks you through your high and follows with his own soon after, pulling out and spilling his cum onto your stomach.

your eyes close as you come down, jisung rubbing your arma soothingly and trailing light kisses over your cheeks and forehead. minho moves to grab a towel and cleans his seed off of your body gently. “was all of that okay?” minho asks, eyes flicking back and forth between you and jisung. “it was incredible.” you assure him. “so fucking hot. i was right by the way. you two are so fucking pretty together.” jisunng groans. “we uh- we could do this again sometime… if you guys are up for it.” minho blurts out, sounding unsure if this is too close to crossing a line. “oh this is definitely happening again” jisung responds quickly (maybe too quickly?) before giving you one last big kiss on the cheek.

ANON WHO ARE U…. U R A BEAUTKFJL MYSTERY

im just posting some of the longer asks in my inbox to tide u guys over til i feel better <3 on that note its juno passing out for a nap time

#juno’s asks ♡#sweet baby anon #asks: minsung

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peaches-creek · 9 months

Text

It had been years since he had last seen you, his girl. You weren’t his girl, but you were his girl. He had only been Jason again for maybe a year or so, leaving the Arkham Knight in the past, and bringing the Red Hood into the light. He was still brining himself back, still having days where he feels nothing but rage. Days where he feels disgust, sadness, trauma. He has to be able to feel those things before he is able to love anyone else, not that he wants anyone else, you are it for him. You loved him for the little Jason that would show up on your doorstep with bruised and scraped knees, a belly needing to be filled. Instead of telling him to find help elsewhere, that you can’t let him in because your father would absolutely flip, you quietly let him in.

As he sits on your little twin bed, he takes in your room and pays attention to the small things. The pretty little pink flowers on your sheets, the Justin Bieber poster beside your desk. He scoffs at that. He notices the little finger paintings your younger sister made you, the well loved stuffed animals, and the little tea cup set you had at your play table. The last thing he payed attention to, while you gathered as many band-aids aid alcohol pads as your little 9 year old hands could hold, was all the knitted scarves and hats you had around your room. One was pink, another blue with a white rim, many rainbow colored ones, but the one that looked the warmest, was the red one. It had a white Pom-pom on top with little red laces on the bottom to tie it tight around your squishy little face. He imagined you in it, with your puffy cheeks. You scurry back into the room.

“Okay so these kinda sting,’’ you say ripping open an alcohol wipe, “I can hold your hand if you want.” You were half teasing. You did want to hold his hand but you knew he was like a scared rabbit, if you moved too fast he would scamper back into the darkness.

“I think I will manage, barely.” he smirks. He wanted to hold your hand too.

You payed attention to him as well. You payed attention to how his knees weren’t just bruised, but scarred. How his teeth were only a bit crooked. His hair was curly in the most perfect way, with a little curl falling right in front of his face. His freckles and blue eyes. You loved everything about him. You also noticed those pretty little blue eyes looking at your red hat.

“My nana makes those y’know,” you chirp, “she can make you one if you want.”

“I’m all set.” He says, looking away.

“Alright. Well guess what happened the other day! I went to the store and I found…” You rambled on, getting back to doctoring his knees.

He spent the remaining time of the night listening to insignificant stories about your little life. About the silly man you saw wearing a bright yellow suit and pink polka dot shoes. About the stray cat with one eye. He started looking at you again, looking at your funny little bed head, cowlick sticking straight up. Your blue striped pajama set. Bunny slippers. Everything about you was cute, you were only a year or so younger than him.

You met him at the Gotham Public library. You were both looking for books on mythology, he was looking for Greek while you were looking for Norse, different but alike, just like the pair of you. Ever since then, you were always around one another. He walked you home from school, made sure you got into your apartment okay. He would go to the park with you, push you on the swings. He even read you stories when you were sick and your mother let him in to see you. I mean, how could you deny him, he looked like a kicked puppy when he found out you couldn’t play.

You weren’t like the other city kids, you were kind. That’s why he liked you so much. All the obstacles you overcame, and you were still forgiving and patient. He envied that. Everything he went through made him angry and unforgiving. He would tell you about that, but you would just tell him that there’s two sides to every coin, and he didn’t know what the hell that meant. Sometimes you just said stuff.

You finished up with a quick kiss to his knees and exclaimed that you were all done. You turned on your heel and walked right over to the little red hat. You walked right back over to him and put in on his head.

“It’s a little too big for me, but it fits you just right!”

“I can’t take this.” He says, without taking it off.

“Yes, you can.” You quip.

“No I can’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Jason Peter Todd I will win the fight and you know it.” You giggle.

His response is nonverbal, just a huff. You smile.

He moves toward the window in your room, opens it and climbs onto the fire escape. He takes one last look into your lovely room and one last look at your lovely face. He waves his hand at you, beckoning you to come to him. He presses one little kiss to your cheek and quickly, but quietly he shuts the window. Then he’s gone, probably going home, leaving you with a red hot face and a goofy smile.

#jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd headcanon #mygirl!verse

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cybertron-smash-or-pass · 3 months

Note

A bit of a loaded question, I know, but do you have any TF ships you prefer and would like to share?

I need you to be aware that you're opening pandora's box here. The vibes range anywhere from "god this is hot" to "god this is cute" to "their dynamic is so fucking interesting and i want to study them under laboratory conditions" to "this hurts so much and I need the drama, I am CRYING" to smashing barbie dolls together. I have crackships you ain't even THOUGHT about. I throw ships at the wall just to see if they stick. I like a lot of ships. Arguably too damn many. So many that I'm putting this under a cut to spare people from the long post. So many that I have to sort them by continuity so you're not staring at an unorganized list longer than do you love the color of the sky.

TFA

shockbee I feel has a lot of the potential for shockwave fearing what happens when bee finds out he's not longarm. Like a lot of the scenes in auto boot camp read to me like shockwave really did want bee as an ally while he climbs the ranks, and there's some juicy potential for shocker starting out as just using him until he actually catches feelings. Especially in aus where bee really did join the elite guard. Like can you imagine the drama. The heartbreak. The trust issues. Bee realizing he never really knew the guy he could trust most. Wondering if he's even safe to be around. If anything was even real. Shockwave wondering the same things. Hhhhhhhhh.

I do enjoy shockblurr conceptually but I'm not crazy about how they're usually portrayed in the fandom bc I feel like we're all forgetting that shockwave is a ball of anxiety and murder, and Blurr is a straight laced fuckin nerd who can't shut his mouth. An overpowered, highly capable nerd, but a nerd still. I like what the artist katzske does with them a lot tho.

I'm also a blitzbee enjoyer but on a less "bee can fix him and itll be so sweet" level and more "god imagine how annoying they'd be together." Looney Tunes levels of fucking with people. Either that or bumblebee is just horny on main and really likes the thought of bagging a con, but then he goes and catches feelings.

prowlbulk owns my entire heart. They're so sweet on each other and prowl really respects and appreciates bulkhead way more than bulky's used to. And bulkhead admires so much of prowl's skill and perspective. They work so well together as a couple and it's fucking adorable. With a hint of tragedy bc. Well. You know.

Bulkbee is also incredibly cute bc I'm a sucker for besties that very slowly realize they love each other so much it makes them look stupid. Good in romantic or qpr flavors. Bee already climbs all over bulkhead like a squirrel, they're so fuckin affectionate and very very stupid in social settings.

I like Optimus and blackarachnia from a drama standpoint bc God. They are tragic. They are MESSY. I genuinely think there's no happy ending for them. The trust is gone. But they still miss each other so much and they just CANT move on, so they keep stringing each other along. They're just hurting themselves and each other every time one does anything nice for the other. It's the kinda shit that just slowly rips your heart out. OP please don't text your ex. OP pLEASE

Megop is a classic but I feel we as a fandom underutilize how much Optimus pisses off Megatron. He is an asshole cat knocking shit off the counter for attention. Megs lets him be worse when he is so so fucking tired of being good. He loves that he hates him and he hates that he loves him. Full on "my esteemed rival" "dearly detested." Fighting each other is cathartic and addictive. Megatron finds it infuriating but he can't deny how much he likes having a worthy opponent, how fitting it is that the cosmos sent him so deadly a nemesis, and yet how lame it is that he was so forgettable at first so now he feels dumb being mildly obsessed with him. Optimus is just glad he has someone who doesn't expect him to be perfect and nice and upstanding. He can vent out a lot of his less noble feelings or impulses that he's had completely repressed for ages. The pressure's off in a lot of ways. And I think in an enemies to lovers sense, watching them figure out how to make that setup and that very odd mutual desire to be in each other's lives into something healthier could be really compelling. Or tragic in a "why did I let myself need you? Why the fuck did I let myself need you?" way.

Beeprowl is funny but I only really like it in a "you annoy me SO MUCH let's make out about it" way. Nothing committed, just dispelling the tension without having to kill each other. It is just kinda nice seeing them have genuinely sweet moments though. Squidbob ass relationship.

Lugnut and Strika are the perfect Decepticon power couple and I love them so much. So very much. Lugnut loves his big terrifying wife capable of leveling cities, and she loves her sweet devoted husband who could throw her across the room. I think they break chairs over each other's heads for fun and have been trying to seduce Megatron into a threesome for ages.

Shockwave and Megatron are also incredibly good. The loyalty. The "I commit my whole existence to you. I am yours, in mind body and soul. I will go wherever you need me to, I will put myself in immeasurable danger for you, just please say I'm doing a good job" and "all my efforts would be lost without you. In a world where I have been vulnerable and terrified, where I have been stabbed in the back by people I thought I could wholly trust, I can look at you and know, unwaveringly, you won't do the same. I trust you completely." It's Delicious. It's absolutely codependent but god it's tasty.

Also honestly? Bulkhead and the constructicons could make a pretty cute throuple. He wants them to be better. They want him to be worse. He just wants them to do honest work and they want him to stop letting stuffy, elitist autobot society control him so much. They love each other, they're friends (even if the constructicons don't totally remember the first night they met him). And they really do enjoy each other's company. They're just guys being dudes. Just dudes being guys. Just guys being gays. (It's also just nice when bulkhead gets to be the smaller one, scrapper totally carries him around like a big ol' cat).

I really like prowl being torn between lockdown and jazz. They're the devil and angel on his shoulders. Lockdown tempting him into relapsing, feeling himself fall into old habits, forsaking everything he's learned about patience and respect and being conscientious of the world around him. Jazz picking him back up when he slips, making him WANT to keep being better. And prowl can't decide if he wants to be loved in spite of all his toxic traits or BECAUSE of them. It's got me in a chokehold, your honor.

Megastar is fun in tfa because 1. It's implied Megatron never actually abused starscream while they were on the same side (the first thing starscream says after waking up from being shot is "YOU DARE STRIKE ME, MEGATRON?" which reads to me like this is a new development). Megs doesn't actually hurt anyone working for him other than Sumdac, who he fucking hates (at least not on-screen), and the only reason he was as aggro to starscream post-revival was because he knew screamer is the reason he spent all that fucking time as just a severed head. He used to actually trust him, sort of, even if he was a scheming, sycophantic little weasel. And 2. It's pretty obvious they have history together. I genuinely truly believe they were exes and Starscream only planted a bomb on him because he couldn't be fucking normal about the divorce. You look at how they bitch at each other in deep space and then immediately fall into what is most likely their old dynamic of getting things done and shooting the shit and tell me they never had an intense romantic stint that went horribly wrong. Starscream calls him Meggy in his internal logs for fucks sake.

Ratchet x Arcee are also very very cute together. Old married dorks. Ratchet's so soft with her and he wants her to be okay. She genuinely likes him and he makes the nightmare she's subjected herself to bearable. "Don't call me sir, I work for a living!" They're both horrifically traumatized, they understand each other on a level most bots can't, and they can ground each other when it gets bad. God. You know they're slow dancing in the kitchen together. You know they're sickeningly domestic with each other. They are holding hands in the park on a comically small bench on earth right as we SPEAK.

Oh also sumdac x megatron. It started as a crackship of mine but I really love the idea of sumdac feeling legitimately guilty for taking Megatron apart and unknowingly violating him the way he did, even if Megatron is terrible. Like the dynamic of "you lied to me" "if I told you who I really was, I would be dead. I don't owe you the truth when you held me captive. I was vulnerable. I was TERRIFIED. I did what I had to in order to keep myself safe. And you come to ME with accusations of doing you wrong? When YOU held all the power? And then when I'd taken back the power you left me without, made you feel what I felt, I'm a monster?" "I never meant to hurt you" "Well you did. And now you know just how much damage you did." Like it's such an interesting angle, ESPECIALLY when you consider that sumdac probably grew to legitimately care about Megatron while he was in his lab. He wanted to do right by him. He wanted to see him restored and thriving. He was his robot buddy that made a birthday gift for his kid once. Some part of him probably misses him after he's gone, some part of him probably feels guilty too, even through all the rage and hurt and fear and betrayal. That's complicated feelings!! That's juicy!!!!!

I like the thought of Shockwave and Optimus but that's mostly for sexy reasons. Something about a big, smooth talking, scary cryptid monster, very well spoken and elegant, seducing Good, Upstanding Autobot Optimus to The Dark Side. This is mostly because Optimus is a huge nerd and so is Shockwave. I think Shockwave could potentially pique his interest with uncensored versions of the history Optimus is already a huge dweeb about, and seal the deal with a few gentle touches and honeyed words. From Optimus's perspective this is Very Obviously a Honeypot Trap but the trouble is Shockwave is very hot and very sweet on him and starting to seem less and less evil so he's not sure how long he can keep his guard up when the temptation is this strong. He has a duty to fight Decepticons and shut out their lies but man. He's so tired. And Shockwave's berth is very warm. There is something satisfying about seeing him choose to be selfish after nearly a whole show of him taking the high road. (It's even better if he gets attached when eventually Shockwave's Cool Sexy Collected vibes falter and he sees how much of an anxious, panicky dork he actually is)

I also just kind of like the idea of team prime being a polycule (other than ratchet, who is just watching the young bots having relationship drama and rolling his optics (the age gap and mentor role make me personally a little uncomfortable but I have nothing against people who do include him, they're all adults, its chill)). I like the thought of these losers getting home after a long day and collapsing into a cuddle pile, either on the couch or on the floor. They all love each other so much already, I think they should kiss about it, but they're super repressed so it's So Very Shy and Cautious and Sweet.

The same goes for the Decepticons but more in a "cons are pretty casual about sex anyway, they're in close proximity, and they tolerate each other at least so nearly everyone has a fuck buds setup with each other" way. I feel like the autobots are super repressed in that regard so the cons started leaning into being sluts to stick it to the mech along with all the other freaks shit they're cool with. God help Blackarachnia, she goes from Autobot repression to all her coworkers being sluts on main and she Does Not Know what to do about that (also it would make a lot of sense if that's why she started leaning into the femme fatale thing so hard)

TFP

Megop is also Very Good here. Literally the most divorced robots to ever exist. Megatron NEEDS Optimus back and Optimus still holds a torch for megs, but it's so fucking funny because they're clearly on fundamentally different levels of "I miss you." Like Optimus is kinda sad and he does want the old Megatronus back, but Megatron does these whole fuckin elaborate stunts to get Optimus to pay attention to him again and then locks himself in his room with a pint of ice cream and dark energon to cry about him. Mans is NOT coping. Alternatively, Optimus is coping just as poorly on the inside and he really does still love Megatron just as much but he knows that's a selfish desire that he quiets with everything else he sacrifices about himself in the name of being a good leader. Least repressed Optimus.

Optiratch my beloved. Gay old men who would do anything for each other, even when they really don't agree on how to proceed. They're best friends, they're husbands, they're crushing on each other and they think it's unrequited, they just started dating, they've been married for eons. All of it works soooo well. They know each other well enough that they can communicate by just kinda grunting in specific ways. I need them to hold hands SO bad.

Bulkhead and wheeljack should get to kiss on the mouth I think. If Arcee can call Wheeljack Bulkhead's boyfriend, and bulkhead does not deny it, logic dictates they should in fact French kiss sloppy style for a whole minute on live TV. It can happen. Only on the hub.

KOBD are adorable together, they are so unhinged and stupid and they love each other so much. Like the team rocket of the nemesis. Breakdown loves his husband soooo much and knockout misses him so bad when Silas gets him. And you KNOW they're freaks bc knockout is totally convinced that breakdown would've loved seeing how he torments Silas in bd's body. He's probably right about it too.

I also wholly support Ms. June Darby for trying to seduce Optimus. Me too girl, get that robo ass. Go get jack a new cooler dad. It's also very cute to imagine Optimus, the bigass 30 foot robot, the stoic leader of the Autobots who keeps stonefaced through just about anything, flustered and crushing on a very small and very flirty human.

For some reason the show was kind of trying to tease Bulkhead x Arcee for exactly one episode and then never again and like. Look. I understand it was a forced het ship that was there to distract people from how gay they accidentally made the show. I know it'd probably just be Arcee rebounding after losing Cliffjumper. But I think them having a fwb type relationship while she works through her feelings could be interesting. Though this could just be because Bulkhead is big sweet and comforting and him holding anyone and making them feel safe while they're Going Through it is enough to get me saying God I Wish That Were Me.

Bumblebee and Smokescreen appeal to me in the same way seemingly very hetero frat bros who are apparently a very sweet and affectionate gay couple do. It's an inherently funny irony and also theyre just both cute himbos.

TFP Megastar is horrifically unhealthy in general and there is absolutely no way in hell it could work out. Not pre-war, not post-megs-redemption, nada. Which is why it has my brain in a chokehold. This is one of the ships I like because it's fascinating and because god it HURTS. Like I have my gripes with how the show portrayed the abuse overall but there were some things they were cooking with. Starscream being an obvious victim but then turning around and inflicting it on everyone around him? Girl no, the cycle of violence and abuse!!!! Girl no, you're refusing to do the complex emotional work of accepting that what happened to you wasnt okay and thus you carry out the behaviors you've gaslit yourself into thinking are normal!!!!!! Girl no, society has failed you and you have no support systems to help you break the cycles, but you also simply refuse to try in the first place because your pride wouldn't allow it!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The cortical psychic patch was literally my fave showcase of their dynamic in the whole show. "I don't want to play this game anymore!" Like jfc ouch. Also the thought of post redemption Megatron lamenting how he treated Starscream, not having considered the damage he's done to him before now. Trying to make it right and only making it all worse by inserting himself into Starscream's life again and realizing how badly he's broken him, how fucked it is that Starscream seems to revere him after EVERYTHING. God. GOD. I'm in agony.

Rescue Bots

Speaking of starscream in the cycle of abuse, KOSS has postcanon potential. (Post Predacons Rising, rid does not exist 😌) Like. They've proven they feel some type of way about each other. "I've always admired your lustrous finish." "😏" But Knockout was the first person in starscream's life to set a boundary in a healthy way. And when starscream inevitably ignores those boundaries and knockout leaves, you know how much it fucking hurts starscream to realize how badly he fucked up. But of course, the pride. He can't apologize. Can't admit he's the reason knockout betrayed him. So he'll choke back the tears. He'll try to, anyway. But he can't stop the agony in his voice while he feebly spits out "Fine! I hope Unicron eats you too!!" You know the second they shut the door on him, the waterworks started, and so did the closest thing to self reflection Starscream's ever done. He Has the Potential to be Better with Knockout, but he NEEDS to put in the work, and the suspense of wondering if he WILL fucks my whole shit up.

It is so close to canon that blades and bumblebee are boyfriends. Hell I believe it pretty much IS canon. He loves that bug so much. He gets jealous when he hangs out with Dani and not him. He hugs him for a photo the first chance he gets. And since we know blades is confirmed as being into dudes, I think we all know what they were getting at. TFP bumblebee has an anxious twink boyfriend that lives in Maine and we have no idea whatsoever if the rest of team prime knows.

Graham and boulder pine for each other like you would not believe. Once again, pretty much canon. You can't just have boulder keep telling Graham "well I like you just how you are" when Graham's trying to impress a girl and expect me to not think he has a big stupid gay crush on his best friend. They love each other so much as partners and as friends, I know damn well they'd be SICKENINGLY cute together as boyfriends. They'd probably try to stealth it at first bc a human and a giant robot alien in love? What'll the others think?? Gotta keep it secret. Sneaking off into the woods so Boulder can work on his "art projects" but in fact they are kissing. They're not as slick as they think they are, Chief Burns 100% picks up what's going on but he lets them think they're sneaky. Nobody actually has any problems with it other than Kade making fun of them a little but don't worry that's just him projecting.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Heatwave and Kade are the worst fucking tsunderes about crushing on each other. Between heatwave refusing to let down the brooding tough guy persona and kade being so insistent on staying hyper masculine (to the point where mild internalized homophobia is inevitable), neither of them can just be honest about how much they mean to each other and they gotta resort to getting each other's attention by being mean in very low stakes ways. I am drowning, there is no sign of land, you are coming down with me, hand in unloveable hand, except they're not drowning and they're just dunking each other in a kiddie pool repeatedly.

Heatwave and quickshadow are fun for similar reasons but with less shit lord pranks and/or lowbrow bitching, and more classy verbal sniping and sparring with each other because heatwave thinks it's hot when quickshadow kicks his ass. They're insufferably competitive and I think that could be very fun and incredibly messy, especially since they both need to learn how to communicate. Very bisexual, they are forced to share the brain cell, 10/10

I also just enjoy the idea of all the bots being in a polycule the same way I like the idea for TFA's team prime. They're very sweet together and they clearly care about each other a lot. Its just kind of nice when they all hold hands together, you feel me? They're sneaking off to kiss in the bunker bc they don't know if the humans know dudes can like other dudes. They are also not as subtle as they think they are.

Oh also doc Greene and chief burns dated once when they were teenagers and it didn't work out but they stayed besties, nobody can change my mind on this.

Beast Wars

Dinobot and Megatron are exes, 100%. Dinobot is probably the only being in the known universe that Megatron actually kind of cares about other than himself and his rubber duck. Otherwise he wouldn't keep trying to fucking clone him to make a version that will never leave him. There's also some implications here and there that Megatron really did want the world to be better for Predacons (along with the desire for power, anyway) and that preds are genuinely treated unfairly, so there's a pretty compelling angle of dinobot having been drawn to megatron because he saw someone with noble goals and a way to fix their fucked up world before becoming disillusioned with the dishonorable tyrant he turned out to be.

Dinobot and Optimus are also very good together bc it really truly feels like Dinobot finally found the guy with honor he thought he saw in Megatron. And he's infuriating half the time because he isn't nearly as bloodthirsty as he's used to, but GODDAMN does he make him Feel Things. The entire episode Gorilla Warfare has me obsessed with them. The bitching. Dinobot freaking the fuck out and Optimus tenderly removing the seed pod stuck to the back of his neck that was freaking him out and only laughing at him a little. Dinobot constantly trying to choose violence. The stupid smile when Optimus also chooses violence and Dinobot realizes he fucked up. THE BEDSIDE VIGIL. "It was my shift" AND YOU KNOW THEY WEREN'T TAKING SHIFTS. THE FLOWER ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE. "it is good to have you back." "Back home or back to normal?" "...both." THEY'RE HOMOSEXUAL, YOUR HONOR.

Dinobot (shit maybe I just really like dinobot) with Rattrap is good for similar reasons but the vibes are totally different. DoOp is all soft and sweet and patient and light ribbing, Dinotrap is talking shit at each other as a love language. Dinobot is a good guy but he's also, fundamentally, a bitch. Rattrap has proven he can match his freak by bitching right back. They love each other by pretending to hate each other. To the point where if Rattrap doesn't hear any comebacks he genuinely starts worrying because "oh, we aren't playing the game, why aren't you playing, are you okay?" They have so many soft tender moments where they prove they actually love each other. Their last conversation is talking shit!!!! "You're just a slag spouting saurian, but it's nice to know where you stand." "Upwind of you for preference, rodent." They loved each other!!!!!! Rattrap is fucked up over losing him!!!!!!!!!!! It's bittersweet, it's tragic, it hurts so bad and I love them so much!!!! They're stupid your honor!!!!!!!!!!!!

On a much sillier side, I do love Rattrap x Rhinox. Rattrap kissed that man twice. On the mouth. On screen. Annoying little gremlin who goes "nyehhhh" x big stoic dude who goes "hn." And they're both tech guys so they probably work on projects together a lot. And they all survive and are fine bc beast machines isnt real 💖

I have my problems with Silverbolt in general but I cannot deny that he and Blackarachnia are pretty damn cute together. He loves his girlfriend, they trash her shitty ex together, she loves that he doesn't try to change her. She gets to be the bad girl and the sweet knight in shining armor still loves her. "Dark poison of my heart" like c'mon.

Airazor and Tigatron are also pretty cute AND they have the honor of being the first canon gay couple in the tf franchise bc of the Japanese dub, which made Airazor a dude but left the romance unchanged (the Japanese dub was also just generally fuckin insane tho so it's not all that shocking).

Waspinator and Terrorsaur are boyfriends for real and for canon, John hasbro told me himself.

RiD 2001

I ship skybyte with that one girl that lives in a state of constant talking-car-based torment. Why? Because when I watched rid with my roommate we had a running joke that eventually they'd meet and have a whole robotfucker romcom arc and it kinda just stuck. This is my only rid ship and I will not be taking criticism on it.

Cyberverse

Bumblebee, Hot Rod and Cheetor are in a polycule together and nobody can tell me they aren't. Just how it's gotta be.

I want Perceptor and Dead End to kiss so badly. They're technically canon already given how hard the creators ship them. They hold hands your honor. "only a bolthead would go out there... UGH I'm such a BOLTHEAD" HES IN LOVE YOUR HONOR.

Hot Rod and Soundwave are great as enemies to lovers, they're so annoying 💖. I feel like they'd start playing gay chicken and be married with three kids wondering when the other guy is gonna back out.

SHOCKWAVE AND WHEELJACK OH MY GOD. fellas is it gay to program your drones which are just tiny versions of your own altmode to dance funny to Tetris music specifically because it makes your lame ass boyfriend laugh and then keep that function eons after you break up and still remember exactly what the command is? Fellas is it gay to get kidnapped by your ex and then get really excited about all the cool shit he's been making while you were separated? I wish they could've gotten a happy ending man, they could've been so cute together.

I don't ship it romantically but I believe in Grimlock & Arcee qpr. They love each other so so much they would've readily died for each other. I love their dynamic, they're insane 💖

Same goes for Shadowstriker and Soundwave tbh. Decepticon besties, and Shadowstriker being aro kinda just feels right. I like to think they cuddle and talk shit about Shockwave while Sounders blasts heavy metal. They play cod as the most insufferable duo.

Megop in cyberverse is so good because it really feels like they Had a relationship but it was unstable and moved too fast and they just assumed they were on the same page about things without communicating properly until suddenly they were in serious disagreement, and TRIED to work it out in a mature way but they were simply Doomed From the Start. And then it culminates in a whole fucking war but it rages so long, and they are so tired of fighting, and they realize they want to try again because nobody was really to blame for how things ended because they both handled it poorly. I wish they got that chance to try again properly. I wish when Optimus retired to just fuck around and vibe, he could've taken Megatron with him. I wish they could've fallen in love all over again.

Oh also Slipstream and Windblade being lesbian enemies to lovers bait was Fucking Phenomenal and I Love it So Much. They're smug and terrible and I want them to make out. They can make each other worse 💖

I have not seen that much of g1 but I do know a few things are absolute truth.

Soundwave is gay for Megatron. This is arguably reciprocated.

Shockwave is gay for Megatron. This is not reciprocated but it is taken advantage of.

Starscream vacillates between gay for Megatron and trying to kill him. Megatron seems to reciprocate but only a little bit. Enough to keep him alive because he's cute. But megs also gets a lot of cuteness aggression so he feels the need to chuck starscream against the wall every now and then.

Powerglide and Astoria are tied for the pinnacle of robot on human romance in the entire tf franchise with Tracks and Raul, and if none of them come back in ANY tf media, I will riot.

Cliffjumper and Mirage have fucked at least once.

Wheeljack and Ratchet are gay married.

Optimus is bisexual and he loves elita-1 but there is something distinctly homoerotic going on with Megatron.

Conclusion

I like when the robots kiss <3

#not polls #anon i hope this is what you wanted #bc once i get going i simply do not shut up.

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obliviouskara · 4 months

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top 5 supergirl episodes?

full disclosure i haven't seen the entirety of supergirl (ive literally only seen like 7 eps & its all season 1) so this list will probably change over time (bc im starting to painstakingly watch the show - imagine slowburn but watching a series) however ive watched like a ridiculous amount of supercorp edits so im going to base my choices on the parts where supercorp exist ha!

5. Season 1 - Red Faced

this would probably be the only none supercorp related yet still somehow my personal fave for a few reasons. i love this scene in particular bc it shows that cat grant cares for kara and what cat says here is very relatable. no matter how harsh cat can be at times, cat was a girl's girl here. she gave an advice which was helpful to both supergirl and kara. she had every right to rip kara viciously apart but instead she took a completely different route. i like the line she says here.

"You really need to figure out what's really bothering you." "You really need to find that anger behind the anger. And you really need to figure out what's really making you mad."

i think this was also the ep where kara acknowledged where some of the anger was coming from. even with zero dialogue and with mel's incredible acting skills she was able to convey so much emotions during that scene where she releases all her anger towards the red tornato. From losing her parents, losing her planet —her home, for losing everything and maybe even angry with her parents for the choices they made for her. it was such an incredible and very emotional scene.

im putting the rest in read more bc of how unnecessarily long this post has become

4. Season 2 - "The Adventures of Supergirl"

this should be easy. this was the first time kara met lena and changed the trajectory of every queer person watching this show and lena first delivered the first of many many questionably fruity (gay) lines fjlkajdla

"You couldn't have fooled me."

also bc of this scene thank you very much

3. Season 2 - "Luthors"

if there is one particular scene that convinced me to even give supergirl the time of day its obvs this one and lena "suspiciously straight" luthor delivered one of the most iconic lines on television in my opinion and now forever engraved in my mind. let's not forget lcorp CEO lena luthor took the time of day to fill catco employee kara danver's office with flowers like it's a regular tuesday but oh well

"now you'll have someone to stand up for you. always" "supergirl might have saved me but kara danvers, you are my hero."

screaming, crying, throwing up

2. Season 2 - "Exodus"

tada! i mean, look at it! how heroic! i also find it funny how grateful and confused lena was that kara danvers was having coffee with supergirl late at night but still

Season 2 - Ace Reporter

so this isnt at all groundbreaking bc honestly, 5 isn't enough and anything that has supercorp will be my favorite even though again i havent seen the rest of supergirl yet but we're ignoring canon so we're ignoring that fact too. i think this was the ep where kara was comforting lean about jack's death. i personally have a love and hate relationship towards this scene for many reasons but im a sucker for supercorp and there was a clip where kara hesitated and looked like she was about to plant a kiss on lena's head but then hugged her instead and i think its beautiful and im a sucker for kara leaning in towards lena

BONUS:

im too lazy to figure out where these clips are from which episode but this. i love every scene and its more like these below are my reasons for watching supergirl and has nothing to do with being my top 5 bwahaha

oh did i mention i also happen to have a weird obsession with superrojas i will not rest until i reach the ep where andrea rojas exist

#jessanswers #kiarrahatesboyss #okay im done this was such a fucking mess tbh #but yes #supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #andrea rojas #sam arias #oh none of the gifs are mine

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thetraingotsetonfireonmidnight · 2 years

Text

𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘, 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖓 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 ~ 2

(Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x reader)

This was highly requested! Thank you all for the support. The fact that KKFIL got so much support shocks me! I appreciate all of you!

< Part one

"You're pathetic." Plagg said ever so bluntly in-between his chews. He took another bite of cheese, crumbs falling onto Adrien's newly cleaned desk, "Just admit that you like them and move on."

Adrien grumbled in response, "I don't like them, Plagg."

Living with the kwami of destruction always presented a challenge. There wasn't a day that passed by without the mischievous cat trying to pull some dirty prank behind Adrien's back. At first, he didn't mind it. It added something new to his day, and it was usually harmless.

But apparently hiding his phone or ruffling his hair before a photoshoot wasn't enough for Plagg anymore, because as of late, he's been turning off Adrien's alarm so he doesn't wake up for school on time. So now he was stuck in this position, shoving everything in his backpack last minute while trying to rush out the door.

Right now wasn't exactly the best time for him and Plagg to be having a conversation about his upside-down love life.

"You don't like them?" Plagg pushed, "Sure, and cheese is my worst enemy."

"Look Plagg, it's too early for this conversation."

"So let's end it right here with you admitting that you like them."

"Get in my jacket or I'm throwing out the cheese you stored in my desk." Adrien opened up his jacket as Plagg let out a shrill gasp before immediately flying into his pocket.

"For the record, this is called manipulation."

"You're insufferable sometimes."

Monday.

Adrien walked into the classroom ten minutes late, and he'd never forgive Plagg for ruining his perfect on-time attendance.

He huffed and sat down next to Nino.

"Woah, dude, you look like shit. Totally unexpected from the model of the class."

Adrien smiled at Nino's bluntness, "I had a bit of a rough morning." He made sure to subtly flick his pocket as he said that. He felt Plagg pinch his side in retaliation.

"Yeah, I can tell." Nino shook his head, turning his attention back to the teacher. Adrien wanted to follow suit, but he couldn't help but notice you.

You sitting in your desk.

You looking wonderful as ever.

You…staring…right at him.

He smiled and waved.

You waved back.

And time stopped.

He wished he could sit next to you. Ask about your morning, hold your hand under the table, and pass notes throughout the class, giggling every time you nearly get caught.

But, alas, he wasn't sitting next to you, he wasn't holding your hand, and passing notes from this distance would be a guaranteed detention.

Life was cruel and unfair sometimes.

"Psst." He raised a brow at you, silently asking you what you needed. You smiled, looking a bit bashful as you put your fingers to your lips and blew him a kiss.

Maybe life wasn't so cruel and unfair.

Tuesday.

"Are you ok? You look tired."

Your voice was something Adrien would never get tired of, and it was just the remedy he needed after dealing with an akuma who had a…not so melodic voice.

The fight was harder than he had assumed it would be. A few scratches littered his arms and legs while stubborn strands refused to stick with the rest of his gelled and styled hair. Though most of the ringing had gone away, his hearing hadn't quite recovered yet. He questioned the miraculous ladybug and why it decided that fixing a civilian's ripped tie was important, but Adrien (the person who helped stop the villain) would have to suffer the rest of the day with hearing loss. It needed to get its priorities straight.

You looked him up and down, your nose scrunched at the sight, "Did you lose a fight to a pigeon or something?"

"Very funny." He reached to scratch the back of his neck, but quickly remembered how Plagg had made fun of him for doing that when he got nervous the night before, and quickly put his hand down. "I tripped. I can only imagine how happy my father will be when he sees me." Adrien laughed, "I have a photoshoot after school. He's going to kill me."

You smiled awkwardly, "And you're laughing about that?"

He paused, realizing how strange it must've seemed for him to be laughing at the idea of upsetting his father and maybe another day, he would've been more worried than joyful…but…

A part of him felt like sticking it to his dad. It was something he never would've considered doing before, but dressing up in a cat costume everyday can change a man.

"Well, good luck with your dad." You pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned to leave. He could still feel it on his cheek, his face growing increasingly warmer.

"You like them~" Plagg whispered.

"It's completely platonic."

Wednesday.

A festival was in town.

Adrien didn't exactly get permission to go, so he had his good old friend, Chat Noir, help him get to where he needed to be. It was a risky game he was playing, but he couldn't miss seeing you.

You ran into his arms the second you saw him, hugging him for longer than necessary (not that he was mad about it).

You walked through multiple booths, picking up small snacks.

Soon a dance broke out, and Adrien couldn't resist asking you to dance.

He bowed deeply, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. "Would you like to dance?"

You looked bashful.

It suddenly didn't feel so platonic anymore.

Thursday.

You were trapped in a closet with him.

Chat noir had run in to detransform, not realizing that you had already occupied the space.

He tried to quickly turn back and leave, but the door handle broke in his hands, leaving the two of you in the closet alone.

"So…you like jazz?" Chat asked. He felt like banging his head against the wall. Talking to you was so easy as Adrien, but it was difficult as Chat Noir.

How could pretend like he knew nothing of you when all he did was think about you?

You gave him a very confused look, "Uh…is the akuma gone?"

"Yeah! And so is the doorknob!"

The joke didn't land as well as he wanted it to. You just nodded and shifted back and forth on your feet. He was terrible at this.

He knew the two of you couldn't stay in there forever, but the only way you could get out was if he cataclysmed the door….

But in order to do that, he'd have to detransform.

"Do you mind closing your eyes?"

"Uh…how come?"

"I need to detransform."

You stared at him for a few more minutes. He wondered what you thought of Chat Noir. He had never asked you about it before.

He could only hope that you liked him.

You finally closed your eyes, and Chat whispered the magic words that rid him of his magic.

Plagg shook his head disapprovingly at the blonde, though Adrien wasn't sure what the cat wanted. There was nothing else he could do, and he knew you would be trustworthy.

He fed Plagg quickly.

"I just wanted to say…"

Adrien froze, scared you would someone know it was him if he breathed too loudly.

"I'm very grateful for what you and Ladybug do for Paris…really. Thank you."

Adrien smiled, relaxing slightly. He wished to respond, but without the quantum magic to mask his voice, he knew speaking would only screw him over. Thankfully, you seemed to understand that, as you didn't say anything about his silence.

He waited for Plagg to finish eating before transforming back.

He cataclysmed the door and stepped to the side, "Victims in distress first!"

You smiled and stepped out, he followed quickly.

"Thanks again."

"There's nothing to thank me for, all I did was get you stuck in a closet."

You laughed, "I meant for stopping the akuma…and getting me out of the closet."

You smiled, and Chat could've sworn his heart stopped. He wanted to kiss you now more than ever.

Not on the cheek.

Not on the hand.

A real kiss.

Chat couldn't do such a thing, but he knew someone who could.

Friday.

It was raining.

Neither you nor Adrien brought an umbrella.

The smart option would be to seek shelter immediately, but instead you ran in the rain.

Adrien had offered to walk you home, and during the walk, rain poured down on you. It wasn't cold or uncomfortable, but freeing. Your clothes stuck to your sides and your poor shoes would struggle in the puddles, but you didn't care. You didn't care because Adrien had grabbed you by the hand, leading you down the street in a fit of giggles.

Each drop of rain let out its own ring, like the weather was singing its own love song for the both of you.

You twirled and spun, grabbing both of Adrien's hands. He seemed flustered, but he effortlessly followed your movements.

Perfectly in rhythm, you and Adrien were stuck in your own world.

"I love you."

You stopped, face heating up as you locked eyes with a now embarrassed Adrien.

"What?"

"I…I love you." He repeated. Despite his stutter, his voice was confident. He couldn't be more sure of his words.

You smiled, "I know, I heard you the first time."

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Finally, your first real kiss.

#chat noir x reader #cat noir x reader #cat noir #chat noir #miraculous x reader #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic

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gojos-thot-patrol · 2 years

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🌶️

A priest gojo

I don't care anymore if I'll burn in hell for this request but I am craving for IT

I can't get it off my miind

Those "Forgive me Lord", "fuck, your pussy is so good for me" has been haunting my ass for ages. I'll give you my house, my cat ⁿᵒᵗ ʳˡˡʸ, my keychains??? and a kiss on your forehead

I sat on this ask for a few days trying to figure out how to go about it. Mostly because well, I've had a priest Geto in the works for about a month now LMAO.

I figured this was my sign to make it an series!! We're going to do a one shot of each of the men as fucked up priests. AH IM EXCITED!!

Now Presenting, Part One in Sins of the Church...

Starring Corrupted! Priest Satoru Gojo

Satoru saw hellfire in your eyes. He saw damnation and eternal torment. He saw his destruction. And he wanted all of it. He could feel his soul burning out of his chest every time you batted your pretty eyelashes at him, feel his morals weaken whenever you smile, and feel himself lose control every time you stood next to him.

And then he had to remind himself that all of those thoughts were borderline blasphemy. He was a member of the clergy for christ sakes, he shouldn't be thinking of a member of his flock like this. He shouldn’t be fantasizing about you bouncing on his cock while he fucks his own fist. No amount of repenting could remove that sin from his soul. But no amount of denial could remove his desperation for you either. He had never been a phenomenal priest, he was a drinker, took the lord's name in vain, and was far from celibate. But he was trying to do better. He was trying to remove those vices from his life. But you brought out the sinner in him. And if he was going to be a sinner, he might as well win with you.

This is what ran through Satoru’s head as he sat in the confessional booth, bored out of his mind. He knew it was important for him to be available for this service from 6 to 9 everyday, but it didn’t mean he liked it. He checked his phone. It was 7:30. Fuck. He was about to text one of the other clergy members to see if one of them would take over for him (probably not) when he heard the church doors open. He suppressed a groan of annoyance as he waited to get this confession over with.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. My last confession was…I don’t think I’ve ever confessed, actually.” The sweet voice rang in his ears. Ho-ly SHIT Satoru knew that voice! It was the voice he had imagined moaning and desperate under him. “Y/n.” He thought to himself.

“Worry not my child,” He said, desperate to hear what you were sinning about. You were the star of his parish, what did you have to confess? Did you say Heck? “You’re at confession now. Confess, and we can go from there.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been having..impure thoughts Father. Thoughts about someone I should not be thinking of in this way.” Jealousy shot through Satoru like a bullet, ripping through his very being. Someone else had caught your eye then. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected anything else. Still, The knowledge that you wanted someone other than him left him seething with rage. He had to know who took his angel from him.

“Who are you having these thoughts about my child?” Satoru asked, knowing you’d answer. You were a good girl, you never said no. But, you did go quiet. Satoru didn’t like that. He was about to prompt you again when you broke the silence.

“I’ve been having thoughts about Father Gojo. In my dreams he comes to me and I see him in, well…pornographic ways. I know I shouldn’t have these dreams, or think these thoughts, but I can’t make them stop.” Motherfucker, maybe there was a God. Satoru found himself pressed into your shared wall of the confessional, hanging onto every word you said. Your small, desperate tone went straight to his dick, and he felt it twitch with every word you said.

“What happens in these dreams?” He asked. He had to know. He wanted all of the details. He wanted to know if you were as desperate for him as he was for you. How graphic was your imagination?

“I find myself with him alone in the church. He puts his hands on my waist and lays me on one of the pews. I feel him kiss my jaw, my neck, my breasts..sometimes he puts his fingers in me, other times he just, well…has his way with me. And in the dreams it feels so euphoric, like a blessing from the holy father himself, I-” NO no, keep going! He didn’t stop you! “He always finishes inside of me. The dreams are so vivid that when I awake, I can still feel his seed seeping out of me.”

Satoru’s cock was impossibly hard and he was struggling to keep his breath even. The passion of damnation burned through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to make your dreams come true. “Have you ever been with a man in this way?” He asked, bracing himself for the answer.

“No father,” You said, shaking your head even if he couldn’t see it. Good girl, he knew you were saving yourself for him. “It’s why these dreams are so odd to me,” you continued, “I’ve never experienced these things when I’m awake, but when I’m asleep it feels so real and vivid I sometimes wake up thinking it might have been real.”

God Satoru wished it was real. If he closed his eyes he could feel your pussy quivering around his raw cock, hear you begging for him, feel your nails in his back. Shit. He palmed himself through his black slacks, trying to relive some of the pressure you had put him under. He tried to remind himself that he was a fucking priest Goddamn it! But he was a man first. And he needed some release. “I see. Well my dear, your sins are great. And as you know, the penance you must pay has to be greater.” He said, trying to sound as composed as he possibly could considering how desperate he was.

“I’m willing to do anything father.” You said, all too eager. “Fuck don’t say that.” Gojo thought. It was the last thought of doubt that ran through his mind. He wanted to see just how far you were willing to go.

“Come here my dear, meet me at the pews.” He said, giving in to the devil on his shoulder. You were a little shocked. As far as you knew, the priest wasn’t supposed to see you at all during confession, it was anonymous. You must have done something truly terrible that the priest had to see you to absolve your sins. Shame filled you as you exited your booth, followed by the most intense embarrassment you had ever felt in your life when you saw Father Gojo sitting in a pew.

“Father!” You gasped, as you rushed over to him. You didn’t even notice how flustered he looked, nor the darkness in his eyes as he stared at your chest. “I-I’m so-”

“On your knees child.” Gojo said, cutting you off before you could start rambling. You paused for a moment, before obeying. He was a priest after all, he had to know what he was doing. Maybe this was all a part of your penance. Gojo placed a gentle hand on the side of your face, and you instantly melted into it, bringing a smile to the clergy member's face. You really did have an angelic face.

“You’ve committed the sin of pleasure my dear.” Gojo cooed, “And to absolve yourself of that sin, you have to give pleasure.” Oh, so this was a part of your penance!

It was also complete bullshit, Satoru knew that. But fuck, your lips were so pretty. He wasn’t trying to think of any smooth plausible reason for this to happen, he just wanted to make it happen. “Undo my belt.” He instructed, and you did so with only a slight moment of hesitation. “Atta girl, keep goin’.” He instructed, watching as you unbuttoned his slacks and pulled down his zipper. You paused, looking at the way his cock strained against his boxers. You had barely even kissed a boy, and yet you were about to be face to face with a cock that belonged to your priest.

“Don’t get shy on me now Angel,” Gojo said, gently tangling his fingers into your hair. “You weren’t shy in the booth. This is what you want, isn’t it?” That was a wonderful question actually. This part never happened in your dreams. And honestly, the thought of putting someone's privates in your mouth was disgusting. But, some dark, gruesome part of you did want this. You wondered what he would look like, what he would taste like. You bit your lip and freed the fathers dick from his underwear, earning yourself an audible moan from him.

“Atta girl…” Satoru groaned, moving your head to take him in. He grinned as you opened your mouth, and damn near came when you finally put your mouth on him. He wasn’t going to be able to enjoy this for long. He wanted something more than some childish head. Though, it was cute to watch you choke on his cock as you tried to take him all it. In any case, spit made for decent lube.

He moaned softly, his head falling to the back of the pew as he guided you up and down on his cock. He looked back down at you and fuck. The sight of you looking up at him, tears filling your doe eyes, squishing your legs together to try and quell any arousal as you struggled to take in his cock was far too much for him. You were his ticket to damnation, he knew it. He was going to burn in hell for you.

“You’re so good,” He said as he pulled you off of his cock. He got you off your knees and sat you on his lap. “So good for me.” His words filled your head and turned into arousal. You felt electrified with shame and desire. “Lord forgive me,” You thought as he slipped your panties from under your skirt.“Please, I just can’t stop myself.”

“Have you ever been touched here?” Satoru asked as he ran a finger up your slit, sending shivers up your spine as you tensed around him. You shook your head no. “Have you ever touched yourself here?” He asked as you represented the question. The answer was yes, but to little results. When you were a teenager, you were curious, sure. But you never got the Euphoric feeling you had read about, so you stopped. As an adult you hadn’t touched yourself in years.

“Not often.” You said, giving the father the condensed version. Satoru nodded, taking in all the information you had given him.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Y/n?” He asked into your neck, his nimble fingers finding your clit and massaging circles into it. You yelped with shock. Your entire lower region had electricity pulsing through it, and you swore you felt your pussy clench. You nodded desperately. Satoru stopped moving.

“Not good enough Angel, I need you to use your words.” He said. He knew he was already putting you in a fucked up situation for his own pleasure, he wasn’t about to make it worse by not being 100% sure you also wanted this.

“Yes, Father, please, I want you to touch me so bad it hurts!” You whined out for him, needing this more than anything. Satoru hummed his approval as he went back to rubbing your clit with his thumb. His fingers now had a new goal in mind. He probed at your weeping pussy.

“You’re so wet for me angel..” Satoru hummed into your ear, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a slut.” He whispered to you as he slipped a finger into your aching cunt. Slut. That word sent a flurry of emotions through your chest but the main one being desire. You wanted to be his slut. You wanted him to fill you up, to use and abuse you. You wanted to be Father Gojos fucktoy.

Those were thoughts you’d unpack later. Right now, The father had slipped another finger into you, and you were focused on trying to accommodate the stretch. It felt so good but you wanted so much more.

“Father please, I need more.” You whimpered out, shooting lightning through Gojos head. “I need you, Father, please. F-fuck me.” you were so unsure about saying fuck but you were absolutely possitive you needed a cock in you right at that moment.

Satoru couldn't believe what he was hearing. A part of him thought he might have died and gone to heaven. But, he knew that probably wasn’t the case. Heaven was sinless and pure. There was nothing pure about you in this moment. You were the embodiment of sin and he wanted nothing more than to drown in you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, who am I to say no to my Angel?” He purred as he ripped off your blouse and skirt, leaving you bare and exposed to him. He had to take a moment of pause. You were divine in every sense of the word and he needed to take a moment to drink it all in. He found his new religion and it was you. “Lord forgive me, but lust calls to me,” he thought.

He lined you up and slowly began to lower you onto his cock. You yelped softly, digging your nails into his shoulders as he stretched you out in ways you had never been before. It burned like hellfire but you were too lost in the pleasure to think about the pain. Somehow though all the discomfort you still felt a euphoria like no other.

Satoru couldn’t take his eyes off from where the two of you were now connected. He watched his cock disappear into your tight, weeping cunt, a droplet of pink blood flowing down as a sign that you were now tied to him forever. It was nothing close to what he could have fantasized of, it was so much better. He knew you’d feel good, but he couldn’t imagine how good.

“Your pussy is so good for me.” He moaned as he bottomed out, pulling you into a passionate and intense kiss. Your head was filled with cotton, you felt yourself lose touch with everything that wasn't Gojo. Gojo, Gojo, Gojo, Your body craved him in ways you didn’t know possible. This was as close to God as you had ever been in all your years as a devout catholic. Your lower waist exploded as he bucked into you, a string of whimpers and moans leaving your mouth as you clung to him. Every stroke of his thick cock pet your g-spot, making you see stars and hear angels singing. “How could something so sinful feel so right?” Was your last coherent thought as Gojo fucked you into oblivion.

Gojo was absolutely intoxicated by your warmth. He tried drugs before, but none of them could compare to the way your pussy pulled him in. The way your body molded itself to his, the way your breathing fell in perfect timing with his. He didn’t give a shit anymore if he was going to be damned for eternity, He found heaven already, and it was you.

You felt a sting start to tightly coil inside of your stomach and your legs stiffen. The sparks in your lower abdomen were becoming full on fireworks. “G-Gojo, I think I’m c-clo-!” You didn’t get to finish that sentence before the string snapped inside of you. Your brain released all of its dopamine and ecstasy reserves into your bloodstream, and your vision went white with pleasure. You felt yourself scream out for God, or Gojo. You weren’t sure exactly which one, but you knew that in that moment there really was no difference to you.

Satoru wasn’t far behind you at all. The moment your cunt began to constrict around him he knew he was finished. A few more thrusts and he was cumming deep inside you, biting your neck to try and keep his volume down. He for sure left a bruise. You both sat there, him clinging onto you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver, you hanging limply off of him like a used doll, both of you trying to catch your breath.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck FUCK. All at once it hit Satoru what he had just done. Shit. he could feel his soul burning in hell already, everything about this felt dirty. He never should have touched you, he-

And then you sighed softly, and slightly readjusted yourself to be more comfortable in his arms. You were so small compared to him, so delicate. It made his heart swell. Nothing involving you could have been dirty, he decided. It was just the catholic guilt talking. He finally lifted you up and pulled out, chuckling softly at the little whine you let out.

“Come on angel,” He purred, “Let’s get you dressed and get you home.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #priest Gojo #corruption kink #tw: toxic relationships #gojo smut

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vhswh0re2 · 3 months

Text

imagine we're doing intox play. u tell me to be good for u as u drag a j and blow the smoke into my mouth. this repeats a good 2-3 times. my eyelids get a little heavier.

you ask if I'm feeling it and I say not really. u cup my face and hold the j straight to my lips and pinch my nose, forcing me to inhale the smoke if i want any air. I finish the j. you ask if I'm feeling it and I giggle and again say "hehe not really".

I'm not convincing. I ask if you can rip a bong for more smoke and continue blowing that into me in a kiss. you're feeling increasingly fuzzy and with me in your lap you can't go anywhere. I'm like a cat. my tolerance is too high. there's nothing you can do to me that I haven't done worse to myself. you're higher than giraffe balls and I'm straight chillin. you realize you're way higher than you wanted to be. I have you right where I want you. I lock my legs around yours, further preventing you from being able to move and i pull out a human-torso-sized copy of Victor Hugo's 1862 novella Les Misérables. It is the 1330 page Julie rose translation. you are about to hear way more than you ever wanted to know about the mid-revolution Parisian sewer system. we're going to be here a while

#sex is mid do you want to hear the epic highs and lows of a revolutionary student group martyring themselves #my post #sorry this is wildly off topic #intox #but not really #kind of

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holylulusworld · 8 months

Text

Newbie

Summary: You and the Winchesters got captured by a demon. Again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x GN!Reader

Warnings: hostage situation, crack, making fun of a demon, a lil angst, cocky reader

A/N: It's Dean's birthday week so we will get three stories with him this week.

You roll your eyes. “Dude, it’s Sam, okay.” Dean chuckles while you angrily glare at the demon wearing Jody’s face. “Can we come to the part where you make Dean choose?” You roll your eyes as the demon looks a little confused. “Dude, I don’t have all day.”

“What?” The demon capturing you, Jody, and the Winchesters splutters. “What do you mean? You are my hostages, and I’m the one making the rules here.”

Snorting you glance at the demon. “It’s Sam, dude. That’s what this is all about. Right? You want to find out whom Dean will save if you force him to choose. It’s his brother. Of course, it is. Now let’s skip the shit and get to the point where we exorcise your stupid ass out of our friend’s body.”

“How do you wanna know?” The demon spats. “You’re only an unimportant side character in this game!”

“How long are you around, dude? The Winchesters will always choose each other,” you grin. “Oh, I get it now. You’re new to this whole demon business. Aw, we have a virgin here, guys.”

Dean laughs, while his brother is still out cold. Poor Sam had to take one for the team this time. Jody, or rather the demonic bitch inside your friend’s body knocked the tall hunter out before you could react.

“I’m not!” The demon angrily glares at you. “I’m not a new demon. I roam this world for hundreds of years.”

“You are!” You bite back. “A high-ranked or experienced demon would never use the body of a hunter.” The demon struggles to keep a straight face. The black-eyed bastard stares back at you, using Jody’s face to weaken your resolve. “And dude. The gates to hell were locked for centuries thanks to Samuel Colt.”

“I—” the demon grunts and stomps Jody’s foot to the ground. “Stop making fun of me, you little ant. I will squish you with my boot.”

“You mean Jody’s boot,” you cock your head to subtly glance at Dean. While you tried to distract the demon, he cut the ropes holding his hands open. “How about I exorcise you now, and you can have a rest in hell. I bet Crowley will welcome you back with open arms.”

“Crowley?” The demon hiccups now. “No! I cannot fail the king of hell. He will punish me if I fail him.”

“Nonsense, sweet cheeks,” you grin. “Crowley is a cuddly cat. We are best buddies and all. If you let us go now, I’ll talk to him. He will not punish you if you do not touch one hair on our heads.”

“He will because he knocked Sammy out and used Jody’s body,” Dean grunts. “You should know Jody once was Crowley’s love interest.”

“What?” The demon blanches. “I-I didn’t know!” Stepping away from you and the Winchesters the demon whines low. “I didn’t harm her. Not at all.”

“Well, if you stay inside Jody’s body for a little longer, you will see what happens,” you purse your lips. “Come on, dare to hurt us too. Crowley will rip you apart.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong! They wanted me to capture you. It’s their fault, not mine,” black smoke forces its way out of Jody’s throat. The demon flees, and your friend drops to the ground. Unconscious, but alive.

“Damn, we ruined their first kidnapping,” Dean snickers. “Imagine, they go home to Crowley and cry their eyes out because you mocked them. That was not nice of you, sweetheart.”

“Nah, they’ll live,” you smirk as Dean cuts the ropes around wrists open. “One day, they are all grown and will try again.”

“We should get Sammy out of here,” Dean points at his brother. “He slept long enough. It was his job to exorcise the newbie.”

“Go easy on him,” you check on Jody while Dean looks his brother all over. “He got knocked out.”

“You know that this isn’t true, right? I’d always try to save you, Y/N,” Dean looks at you for a brief moment, searching your face. “Right?”

“Sure,” you fake a smile and try to sound convincing. Deep down inside you know, if Dean was ever forced to choose between you and Sam, he’d choose his brother over you without thinking twice…

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #spn #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n

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hopelesswritergall · 2 years

Text

I went full Picsart on this!

Requested by no one other than my imagination and inspired by @valeskafics and @sapphire-writes . Just their entire blogs, go read it!

Thank you @annikin-im-panicin for helping me out with some of them!

Warnings: Alcohol, throwing up. Let me know if I missed any.

Taglist: None, Lmk if you want to be added!

Yes you are a silly drunk and yes I used silly nicknames.

Is it implied that you are sorta fwb with almost everyone? Yes yes it is.

Reblogs,Comments and follows are greatly appreaciated. Let me know what you thought about it!

Modern!Aegon

If this bitch ain’t the one who got you drunk then he sure is the one who gets to have fun!

He got a call from you which was just gibberish, the only thing he could pick up was drunk, pick me up and party. His face: 🤨. TF is he supposed to do with party?! But luckily for him he made you install friend locator. Hah suck it Y/N it is useful and it was worth spending money on for the premium version! He will so rub it in your face later on.

So let’s say he does find you at 3 am absolutely hammered. Like you just went into a liquor store and bought it all. That’s how Aegon described it but we can’t really trust this little shit.

First of all he safely parked the car before walking towards you, and him being the little annoying cunt he is started filming it all. He got all your weird drunk confessions that should have stayed in the dark. “Aegon your uncle Daemon is like hot. So are your mom and aunt. Why is everyone so handsome!” You clutched onto him as if your life depended on it. “Whoa Princess, I know I’m super attractive and all that but no need to rip out my hair.”

The walk to his car should have been really short but…. no. You being supported by him decided to try to go pet a cat walking down the street. The cat did not like you and it did not end well. “Why does everyone hate me!?” Cue your crying and Aegon just desperately trying to stifle his laugh.

An extra stop at the pharmacy to get some band aids for you. You insisted on the Disney ones, cause they looked cool. At this point he was just straight up laughing at you.

His apartment was closer than yours and with your state you just needed a fucking shower and sleep. So he just took you to his apartment, and looking back he was really glad helaena lived down the street.

He carried you inside as your legs gave up and called Helaena to help you get ready. Normally the boy wouldn’t mind but even Aegon knows that a drunk person should be treated with care and not getting fucked by him in the shower. Which you totally didn’t do once or twice……..

When you were all cleaned up Helaena took her leave and you guys were alone again. “Alright Princess, you take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch,” he couldn’t finish his sentence before you already started to huff. “What’s the matter?” “Don’t want to sleep alone Aeggy.” you said. “Want me to stay with you?” Aegon asked. He didn’t mind, of course he didn’t! He just wanted you to feel comfortable. “Mhm.” Cue the quick nodding from you.

So he held you in his arms till you woke up. Then he just laughed at you but did give you painkillers. Cause he ain’t that much of a bitch.

Modern!Aemond

He is the friend who said: “Do you need me to pick you up after the party is over?” And dumbass you said: “No don’t worry I won’t get that drunk.” You did you did get that drunk

But Aemond half believing you was in his comfortable clothes at his home 30 minutes away from you watching Gilmore Girls. (He just looks like he would enjoy it).

When suddenly his phone rang. “Hello with Aemond.” As soon as he said that fucking crying could be heard from the other line. “Aem I’m lost.” He could barely make out the words you said. “Y/N, baby where are you?” Frantically searching his car keys while also talking to you led to multiple things ending up on the floor. Nothing shattered but still a bloody mess. What he does for you is insane.

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be crying…” Okay she had a fair point. “Alright miss im so smart. Where was the party? At who’s place?” “At Starks place. You know the one dude.” “Yes . I’m familiar with him. I’ll come and search for you. Just try to find a recognisable place. Like a 7/11 or something like that? Aight love? Can you do that for me?” Aemond knew he shouldn’t be driving and talking on the phone but you were a different story’s. He loved you and he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone, drunk and most possibly scared.

“I SEE A LIGHT! OMG ITS A CASINO.” Your shouting almost made him go deaf. Aemond blinked a few times before calmly replying. “Thanks love I think I know where you are.” Followed by a quick sigh of him getting the ear damage. “I’m going to bet my money.” You said and Aemond could just hear your smile through the phone. “No no missy, you are staying at the front of the building alright?” “Yes sir!”

Once he finally found you he noticed you were wearing one shoe. He made the connection that you had been killing you ankles walking on one heel this entire time. “You couldn’t take off the other heel?” He asked you with a small chuckle at your drunk antics. “Uhm no. I had to be fashionable.”

“Come on love. Your carriage awaits” he opened the door for you and smiles as you giggled at his choice of words.

The ride home was calm and nothing but silence. That was a lie!

You spent the entire ride telling him about everything you thought you saw. "Bettany kisses Jason,even though she was with James." You whispered, almost scared or being heard.

"OH no!" Aemond feigned surprise and put his hand dramatically to his head.

When you did finally come home he was sure to bath you very very gently. Not touching you in any way. (He is very polite and a gentleman)

You have had slept together on multiple occasions before. Maybe fucking maybe not. Who knows......

So it wasn't a problem for him to just put on his pyjama and get into bed next to you just holding you till you slept.

He was sure to remind you to listen to him more often

Modern!Daemon

Some background info. This can be interpreted as dilf daemon cause it is mentioned that Jace is his stepson.

So his stepson Jacaerys asked to throw a party in the mansion this Friday evening. Who was Daemon to refuse? Especially after he mentioned he would be inviting his childhood friend Y/N.

Oh if only Jace knew what is going on between his step-dad and best friend . Well maybe better if he didn't. ;)

So he quickly accepted the proposal but on one condition! Daemon was allowed to stay in the mansion at all times

He didn't really attend the party until he spotted you entering, an suddenly he was seemingly everywhere where you were.

It became kind of difficult to pretend nothing was going on between you and Jace's stepfather, but thank the gods for Alcohol!!

Jace would be drunk and had caught you guys making out, but instead of reacting right there and then he just left. Weird..

But somewhat later when you made yourself presentable again. he approached you. You were completely prepared for him to shout at you. Instead he goes like: "Bro, I think im hallucinating. I just saw you and Daemon's hallucination make out."

"Yeah, weird......"

You could've left like any sane person would do, but luckily for us you aren't. You went straight to the alcohol, doing shots and sipping combinations i would not recommend.

Daemon had been in the shadows after getting caught. Like Rhaenyra knows about it, hell Daemon knows about Harwin. But they were like, we love each other but also others.

Jace however wasn't aware yet.

So when he saw you drinking that awfully mixed abomination. Like he didn't stop you, but he also didn't cheer it on.

The party went on for a while and after about an hour (don't factcheck me on this one) the drink really hit you like a train.

My god, you were challenging everyone to literally everything. You had lost your coat and were just walking around with a tank top and shorts in the evening while its Winter!!

So Daemom came to the rescue. Grabbing your coat and pulling you away from the mass, he checked if you had any injuries.

"I'm taking you home, you cant go home yourself in this state."

"State? We're not in the United States?" "Oh dear."

He informed a half passed out Jace that he was taking you home and Daemon thinks he half got the message

While driving you home you were like Grogu in that one scene. Touch everything!!

"No love, you just locked the doors. No thats the radio. What do you mean with: Why do i not have a turbo?"

Daemon could feel grey hairs coming.

Once at your flat he used the emergency key and led you inside.

"Wow, who lives here?" Daemon thought you were kidding when you said that.

"Stay put! I do not want you moving off this couch, im going to grab you some stuff so do not make this any more difficult than it needs to be"

You saluted him. "YES SIR YES."

He knew where you kept your tea, heating pad and Ibuprofen.

He ended spending the night there to watch over you. Mama bear Daemon at its finest.

Modern!Jace

Daemon is a caring type after things go south, Jace is a Mom friend all the time.

When you told Jace about the party he gave the usual lecture. “Call me when you arrive and leave. Don’t forget to drink water and don’t die.”

Normally Jace would’ve joined you but he unfortunately had to do a project with Cregan.

So off you went, feeling amazing and fabulous in your new outfit.

It wasn’t that far away from your guy’s apartment, you have been sharing it since a year now.

So you went walking, that would’ve been a big problem later. Especially for Jace.

When you arrived everything was fine, nice music, good vibes and good drinks.

After getting a few light drinks you started to up the game. Doing a few shots. As you took a whiskey shot you could feel it burning.

Listen normally you would be responsible and stop drinking all these stuff at the same time, but yeah……. Not this time.

Mix after mix after different drinks.

As expected you ran to the toilet and there it came. The aftermath of your actions. Well not even the aftermath just consequences

Aegon being a slightly good friend called Jace. Did it come out coherent? NO. But it’s the thought that matters.💕

“Y/N? Oh wait Aegon. Why are you calling from Y/N’s phone. Did she die?!” Jace was already putting on his shoes while talking on the phone.

“Threwssdd upps”

How the fuck was Jace suppose to decipher that gibberish?

“Are you at the main dorm?” “Yes.”

“Alright I’m coming, just don’t let die”

Our homeboy Jace was speed walking until he heard the music

As he entered the house he could see you, with Aegon. He was trying his best to hold your hair out of your way. He did a decent job at it.

“Thanks Aegon, I’ll handle her further.”

“Alright pretty lady, let’s get your hair out of your face first.” Jace pulled out his emergency hair tie he always had on him and tied your hair in a ponytail.

He hoisted you up and let you lean on him while walking. This time he decided that the walk through the park would be better since it had more lights so you could see where you were going.

You immediately got interested by the violets that were growing there. “Oh my god! So pretty they also smell,” And you threw up again. “Nice.” You finished your sentence.

“Let’s just get you home safely and get you to get it all out of your system love.”

After what felt like the longest fucking walk in history you finally made it home. Jace dropped you off at the bathroom, so he could grab some supplies.

He grabbed water, water and more water. :D

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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 5 months

Text

Summons: Incubus!Noctis Caelum x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Contains: Incubus!Noctis, biting, breast worship, vaginal fingering, mating press, creampies, dirty talk

"Did it do anything?"

"It didn't work."

"Nothing happened."

You tossed the chalk to the ground and sat back down on the floorboards. Your friends all had a mixture of emotions painted on their faces ranging between skeptical and really fucking bored to disappointed. You looked back to your side to where the old "tome" sat opened, the spell it was opened to was obviously just a bunch of doodles and jumbled words.

"At least we can say we tried something for Halloween," you shrugged before eyeing them all.

One of your friends stood up, grabbed their backpack and slinging it over their shoulder.

"I gotta go. My dorm stops letting people in soon and I don't wanna wake up my roommate," they sighed before waving goodbye.

The others also started to trickle out one by one until you had been left alone in your dorm room. You stood up, dusting the powdery chalk off of your legs and snatching up the old tome. You and your friends had found it stashed in your school's library behind some of the older books in the fantasy section. One of your friends had slipped it into their back and brought it to your dorm room, showing you all bookmarks they had made with some of the spells and enchantments and summons they wanted to try tonight. Only one could've worked, however; a summoning spell for a demon, the description of the damned devil had been faded and even scratched up leaving so much to the imagination.

Your friends all joked that it would either be a big, brawny and very handsome demon while the others weighed that it could be an actual fucking problem like in the movies. Curiosity killed the coeurl, though, and pretty soon you had drawn out the summoning circle in great detail on your dorm's floors. You had to admit, you were a bit disappointed yourself. You were secretly hoping for a sexy demon to have some fun with, but now you were left with a mess to clean up.

You turned your back to the circle and flipped through more pages of the tome, walking towards the broom and dustpan in the corner when you suddenly felt a pair of eyes on you, burning a hole in the back of your head. Spinning on your heel, you gasped and dropped the dusty old tome to the floor.

You had company.

A man- fuck that, a demon was sitting in the summoning circle. He was on the floor, one leg tucked up while the other was stretched out. Dual black horns curled out from cool black messy hair. Eyes that looked as though he captured galaxies in them bore right into you. He was shirtless, showing off his pale and ashen skin, wearing nothing more than a pair of pants that looked like they were ripped straight from a fantasy game. An ashen tail curled behind him, swaying back and forth, snaking around his leg before brushing around like a cat's.

He eyed you lazily, raising his brows almost as if you were the one that was summoned and he was waiting for you to do your own little tricks.

"Holy shit," you mumbled as you eyed him up and down. "What the fuck?"

"I don't care much for crowds," he uttered as he gave you the same treatment.

"What kind of demon are you?"

He cocked a brow seemingly out of amusement, but you couldn't quite pin it down.

"An incubus. What kind of human are you?"

"Shouldn't Incubus have wings?"

He shot you a look.

"Shouldn't humans not be summoning demons?" Touché. He stood suddenly when you realized he was very much taller than you. He walked towards the edge of the summoning circle, stopping just where the chalk started. His tail twister behind him in curiosity as he eyed you. "You're rather interesting for a human. I'd love to know how you taste."

You were very much aware of the sharp teeth in his mouth. You caught the glints of them in the low lighting of your room.

Your cheeks heated up at his comment.

"Is that so?"

"It's true."

His eyes were staring right into your soul, reading you like an open book. He knew exactly how you were feeling, he probably knew exactly what you were feeling too. It doesn't take a fucking demon to know you were craving something crazed in the sheets. You felt a tingling feeling building up just behind your belly button, you felt your core tighten and warm up.

His nostrils twitched a bit, no doubt he could smell your arousal from where he stood just mere feet away. His eyes flared an even brighter blue. He looked like he was starving for passion and love.

"I can smell your need for me," his smile was handsome even with the fangs. "It's divine."

"Thank you?"

"All you have to do is say you want me," he stared you down, "and I can give you what you want." He eyed your pants before looking back into your eyes. "Just say you want me."

Was this real? Yes. Was this a smart thing to do? Fuck no, it was a damn demon that you just summoned from a nasty ass tome from Astrals knows when. Did you want this? Oh, absolutely!

"Take me," you barely whispered.

He broke from the summoning circle, stepping over the chalk and before eyeing knew it you were pinned against the wall of your dorm. You were thankful that you didn't have a roommate and even more thankful for the Halloween parties that were raging on across campus.

His hands were planted on your shoulders, his sharp nails dug into your jacket and pierced at your skin. His tail wrapped around your thigh and snaked its way upwards. You hissed when it teased at your sex through your pants, pressing against your warmth and tempting you even further into that little pool of list you were so damn adamant on swimming in. His tail tightened around your thigh just enough for it to start to tingle.

You whimpered, craning your neck to to meet his eyes as he stared down at you in pure hunger. Something feral lurked in his eyes and you were loving every second of it. Your body was on fire, your skin reacting so well to his touch. Was this wrong? You were about to make love with a demon. Was it really wrong?

If it was wrong, you didn't want to be right.

He captured your lips with his. He fisted your jacket and brought you as close to his body as he could. Your hands fumbled across his body. He was pretty chiseled with pecs and faint abs on the cusp of being something straight out of a porno. Your hands grabbed at his broad shoulders, anchoring yourself against him as your lips moved in tangent. Your teeth clicked against each others by accident a few times from how rough he was using your poor mouth. You could taste blood starting to linger into the kiss, traces of hearty iron tainting your tongues as he greedily drank you up like he was some vampire.

His tongue rolled over your lips before forcing them apart himself, not caring for you to allow him in. You've already sealed that fate. His tongue was warm and wet and eager to explore. He loved to explore your mouth, eagerly fighting with your tongue as you moaned softly into the kiss. Your fingers tugged at the hair that tickled at his shoulders, earning you a fierce growl from the demon as his claws sank into you more.

When he grew tired of your mouth, he parted from it and trailed his tongue down your jaw to your neck. He pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to your jugular, lapping at your pulse and nosed at the column of your throat. He inhaled your scent like he could get high off of the smell alone before licking at it again with that tongue of his. Oh Astrals, what you want him to do with that tongue alone.

He pressed hot kisses to your throat right where your pulse was the strongest, each kiss getting rougher than the last until he finally sank his sharp teeth into your delicate skin. You cried, sinking your nails into his shoulders to anchor yourself against him as your knees wobbled and threatened to give out under your weight.

Your head rolled back and smacked against your wall when his tail teased at your sex, pressing firmly against the swollen flesh, teasing at the wet spot that was slowly growing in the crotch of your pants.

His teeth unlatched from your throat and he nosed at your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and smirked.

"You're already hot and bothered and I've just been kissing you," he purred in your ear. "So eager for me."

"Please," you whimpered.

Your hands caressed up his ashen neck, toying with his locks of soft black hair.

"What do you want? Tell me."

"Please, just fuck me already. Please?"

He pinned you to the bed, his clawed hand wrapped around your jaw as he hovered above you. His palm covered your mouth, muffling your moans and pants. His eyes were wild, his teeth bared. He looked like a wild animal.

"You're very interesting for a human," he thought out loud, "I think I'll keep you around when I'm done here."

Your clothes were suddenly missing from your person, your skin chilled and your body hair stood up on its ends at the sudden loss of protection. Your cheeks lit aflame under his intense gaze, heat crawling up your face as your mind grew slightly embarrassed from the whole situation. Your hands tried to cover at your nude body, shying away from his sight as you turned your head away as the demon’s eyes lavished over your perfect form. He batted your hands away, clawed fingers wrapping around your wrists and pulling them away, planting them on either side of your head as he locked eyes with you once more.

“Don’t hide from me,” his eyes lit up like neon signs you would see cutting through the darkness of downtown Insomnia.

You were hypnotized by how beautiful his eyes were, you didn’t feel his hands release your wrists until you felt them gently caressing your body. He started at your hips, squeezing at your soft flesh before he followed the curves up to your waist and soon found his claws dragging up your ribcage right to your breasts. Your nipples had already pebbled from the cold, your body felt as though it was set on fire. Your nerves crackled with life when the calloused pads of his thumbs rolled over such sensitive flesh that it had you flinching, sucking in a quick breath through your teeth.

For a demon, he was surely being gentle with you.

His hands squeezed at your breasts, his fingertips digging in deep enough to just teeter on the brink of eliciting pain but not pushing past into that threshold. He kneaded at your breasts for a minute, drawing out soft sighs and delicate moans from your lips as your eyes fluttered shut. He slowly brought his head down, removing his hand that fondled with your left breast. You felt his warm breath hit your skin followed by wet warmth as he latched onto your nipple. You cried out loud, suddenly slapping a hand over your mouth as you suddenly remembered you were in a dormitory with dozens of people on your floor still bustling around you.

You felt his smirk into your tit before he nipped at the bud of your nipple. You hissed, your free hand coming down to snatch at one of his horns to tug his head even closer to you. You cried out again into your palm this time when you felt his sharp teeth gently sink into your nipple, tugging at it as he sucked at your supple skin. He growled sexually into your skin at the noises you were making.

You felt his tail caressing your thigh, slowly working its way between your legs and nudging them apart just enough for him to slot one of his knees between them. He pressed his knee right up against your throbbing cunt that was slick with your arousal.

He released your poor breast only to latch onto the other. Instead of replacing your now sore and tender breast with his hand to knead the soft skin, he instead brought it down to your aching pussy and caressed your dripping folds. You jumped at the feeling of his cold claw slowly slide against you, parting your cunt as the rough pad of his index finger rubbed at you. You groaned, digging the back of your head into the rumpled sheets below. He was careful with you still, never going too fast with your delicate skin, never drawing blood as he rubbed at your pussy with his clawed finger. He quickly added a second one, arching it just enough for the tip of his claw to scratch lightly at your cunt and pull a gasp from you before you suddenly choked on a moan. You screwed your eyes shut as a surge of something electrical shocked your entire body, your limbs suddenly going a little numb as your body twitched and trembled at the feelings he was pulling from you by just sucking at your tits and fingering you as best as he could.

He pulled away from your breast and looked up at your face when he felt you look away, your grip on his horn almost faltered, sliding down the curved base until you moved your hand to grasp lightly at his dark locks.

“Look at me,” he growled darkly. He quickened his pace with your cunt. You felt your legs start to tremble, your core start to tighten, you didn’t have much longer. “Look at me when you cum.”

His voice sounded more demonic at that statement. You loved the sense of danger that washed over your senses. Your eyes shot open despite your eyelids pulling with exhaustion and made eye contact with his galactic eyes. They bore into you, read your entire soul as though it was an open book.

You came suddenly on his fingers, eyes squeezing shut again only for a brief second as your vision went white. Your body shook and locked up, your hands clung to his body burning hot with desire. Your eyes fluttered open once more when you felt his fingers massaging deep into you before he pulled away. You watched as he sat back on his haunches and stared at his two fingers covered in your sweet nectar, the clear and thick fluid clinging to his skin as it shined in the low lighting in your dorm. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and lapped at them, his sharp tongue tasting your sweet orgasm with a satisfied groan, his eyes shutting as he enjoyed how perfect you tasted. Once he had licked his fingers clean of you, he opened his eyes and looked down at you still trembling from your climax.

“You taste so divine,” he praised. “I could eat you out for days on end and never get tired of how perfect you taste to me.”

His eyes lazily looked down at your cunt now slick with what remained of your climax before he looked back up at you.

“Please,” you whimpered pitifully.

“What do you want me to do to you?” he asked coyly.

“Fuck me. Please?”

You saw his sharp teeth when he smiled devilishly at you.

His pants were quickly discarded and your eyes went wide at the side of his cock. Would that even fit? Your thighs tried to close themselves on instinct, your body in sudden shock at how hung he was. Why did it surprise you so? He was a demon after all.

He climbed over you, his clawed hands snatched at the sheets on either side of your head as he brought his trim waist down close to yours. You flinched when you felt the head of his cock press against your folds and parted them with ease. He dragged his cock along your sweet little cunt, lathering his head with as much of your spilled climax as he could until you felt a tap at your passageway.

He connected his lips to yours, swallowing your cries when he thrusted into you. Your hands snatched at his shoulders, nails biting into his hot skin as his cock speared right into you. You felt so horribly full with just the little bit he had pressed into you, your walls stretched so painfully yet so deliciously that you craved more. He sank his hips down as low as he could before he bottomed out inside of you. You screamed against his lips, cried into the cavity of his mouth as his tongue explored yours when you felt his head tap at your cervix.

He suddenly broke the kiss to snatch at your ankles. He gave you no time to adjust and prepare, he gave you no warning as to what he was about to do. He suddenly brought your knees up to your chest as he held your ankles up over your head as far as they would go. He spread your legs apart and sat up straight, towering over you as he pressed himself almost completely into you. Your head craned back, mouth hung open as you moaned out loud. You didn’t care who heard you at this point.

He gave you very little time to prepare before he started thrusting at an inhuman pace. His hips smacked against yours, his heavy balls slapped against you, his cock stretched you out to the point you thought your poor cunt would tear. You were once again teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain and you were living for it.

His claws sank into your ankles just enough for blood to start to bead at the marks he left behind. He kept his eyes on you as he fucked you like an animal. They were full of lust and drank up your sinful desires like his life depended on it.

“Fuck! You feel so good-” he panted between thrusts. “I’m not letting you out of my life.”

“Please! Ah- I- fuck,” you struggled to catch a breath.

Your legs strained uncomfortably at the stretch he was forcing. Your knees being tucked up to your chin left little room for you to breathe.

“I’m gonna cum inside of you, make you mine,” he snarled down at you through bared fangs.

You could feel his abs twitching with his thrusts, you could feel his cock harden and flinch inside of your velvety walls.

You came apart once again, your walls fluttering against his cock as you cried out loud. It felt as though the air had been punched out from your lungs, it felt as though your mind was hit with a flashbang.

His thrusts became sloppy and harsh. With every thrust, he growled and snarled and moaned. He suddenly latched a hand onto your jaw and forced you to look at him. His galactic gaze made the heavy feeling in your chest grow all warm and fuzzy.

“What are you?” he snarled.

“Yours,” you whispered back. “I’m yours.”

He thrusted harshly into you one last time before he suddenly came inside of you. He roared, throat flexing as his larynx bobbed. He shot thick, hot ropes of cum right into your waiting womb, painting the poor thing white as he filled you until you were full. He refused to leave you at first, he loved the euphoric feeling of how your walls milked him for everything he had. You groaned softly at how full you felt, and the demon above you shushed you softly, slowly dropping your legs down as his cum started to drip from your abused cunt.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #noctis lucis caelum #noctis caelum x reader #noctis x reader

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