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#just twirling in there round and round
venomous-qwille · 8 months
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Absolutely in love with your recent art of Sanii in the weekly magma! <3 His pose, the limited palette, his expression, everything is just so AAAAAAA I'm in love! >.< I don't even know Sanii's personality yet but I've become attached to him! :')
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Thankyou~
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harlepinyo · 1 month
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My universe.
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slimynematode · 10 months
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THE ELECTRONIC YET PALEOLITHIC GARDEN OF EDEN BEARING FRUIT UNTOUCHED BY OVERGROWN MEGAFAUNA OF FUTURES PAST
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invinciblerodent · 6 months
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on a lighter note than most of today, I've kinda been amusing myself by thinking about which companion would be the best dancer, because there's definitely a case to be made for pretty much everyone
so far my thinking is that
- if it involves improvisation OR done as a Display, it's Wyll (incredible CHA and performance)
- if there's someone around to copy and/or one-up, it's Astarion (absurd DEX and acrobatics)
- if it's a slow number that doesn't involve a lot of moving around but DOES involve prolonged, intense eye contact, it's Gale (need I say it, he has proficiency in romance)
- if it's done in some tavern/at some party, with a crowd that's like one spilled beer from a bar fight, AND the goal is essentially to have loud, wild fun while feeling each other up, it's Karlach
but sound off
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sonicblooms · 8 months
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chiabats · 1 year
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he exudes transgender energy. transgenergy.
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dirtydeet · 2 years
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Personally I think sebastian and ciel like to stay up late playing chess and talking shit about other nobles and waitstaff and then then they snuggle and maybe they even bake little treats in the hot hot oven.
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relapseabstracts · 2 years
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officially back in my Eating Baby Food era
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day-mark · 4 months
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pspspss dream you wanna join this lobby later for at least one round soo bad
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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it turned to smut in seconds, i cannot control my own hands, ok. 18+ (implication of breeding kink or something and simon's a jealous boy)
ex-husband simon who signed the divorce papers without a fight. it'd stung, you're not gonna lie, but it needed to be done and the fact that he didn't make a big fuss about it made things easier for you physically. (emotionally you were in shambles because did he not even want to try and fight for you?)
he comes over only on the weekends when he's on leave.
he's a good father to his boys. he takes them to their softball games when he can, buys them the ice cream and takes them toy shopping.
and then there's a sharp knock at your door on a wednesday afternoon.
"simon?"
he walks in like he owns the place, which technically he does- even pays the mortgage because there's no way you would be able to afford living here with your own measly income.
"what's this the boys are tellin' me 'bout a man bein' in here?" his voice is calm, steady. but you know simon better than you know yourself, and he's furious.
"i- i'm not sure-" he swipes his hand in the air and your mouth clicks shut.
"don't lie t'me, poppet, or i'll be findin' him myself an' you really don't want tha'."
what man? there hasn't been any since the divorce! you're digging through your memories, scrambling to find what the hell he's talking about when-
"oh! it's the plumber!" you take steadying breath. "i called a plumber on sunday. i needed the kitchen sink fixed."
his dark eyes are piercing, so sharp they could cut. simon's always been a walking lie detector, and it's unnerving to be on the opposite end of that analyzing stare.
he nods imperceptibly, then flicks his gaze to behind you, over your head. "show me."
you scoff indignantly. "show you what? the bloody sink?"
simon wordlessly heads to the kitchen and his knees pop as he kneels-
he's actually checking the fucking sink.
with a grunt, he leans his head into the cabinet and twist awkwardly which is no doubt causing a familiar pain to flare up in his lower back. you can't help but wince in sympathy.
lo and behold, there's a shiny, white elbow in the middle of the rest of the dirty, scratched pipe.
he hums, and rises to his feet, closing the cabinet with his leg.
simon approaches you slowly, fingertips touching the kitchen island as he rounds it. "palms flat on the counter, sweetheart."
oh. oh you know exactly what that means, and your pussy throbs almost in reflex. months without his touch and your body still responds the same.
your protest already at the tip of your tongue, almost involuntarily because principles, but he sees right through you, as he's always done.
"jus' a reward for all o' your hard work. takin' care o' the boys is a stressful job all on its own." his worn hand cups the underside of your jaw tenderly. "aren't i always good t'ya?"
your exhales are weak, just like your resolve. "okay."
simon's eyes glint with satisfaction as he lifts his hand, index pointing upwards and twirls it in a slow, deliberate motion.
your palms are flat on the counter when he curls his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and knickers, tugging them downward.
they're flat on the counter when he lowers himself to his knees and taps the inside of your foot, indicating you to widen your stance.
they're curled into fists when his breath puffs against your slick cunt and his warm tongue slides through your folds, drawing lazy circles around your bud. a tingle of arousal shoots up your spine, his mouth sparking a fire right under your navel.
they're reaching for simon, nails sinking into the delicate skin of his wrist as your back bows when you come on his tongue, vision spotted with black, blurry dots and white hot ecstasy coursing through your veins.
your hands are now crossed at the base of your spine, your cheek pressing into the cool kitchen counter as he bends you over it.
"15 minutes before the boys are home from school. tha's plenty o'time, yeah?"
a rhetorical, if you've ever heard one.
your knuckles stain white as you clench your fists at the heavy, hot weight of his manhood stretching your walls to take him in, a sweet burn that you've always loved. he's gentle but sure, bottoming out in one smooth stroke that pushes the air out of your lungs. the sibilant hiss simon lets out is never fails to elicit a whimper out of you.
"fuck," he groans. "i could stay inside this pretty pussy forever."
and the dirty talk. how much you've missed it.
"would you like tha', pet? be inside of ya til you don't know where i end and you begin?"
a garbled mhm slips past your lips. your head already empty at just the sensation of being so unbearably full that it feels like you're tearing at the seams.
"another time, then, since the kids'll be home soon."
he begins to move, shallow but firm thrusts that drag his cock along your nerves deliciously- a sure fire way of getting you to climax around him in minutes.
your walls begin to squeeze down as the knot in your stomach tightens, and he lets go of your wrists, looping an arm around your waist and straightens you- his broad chest to your much smaller back.
his clever fingers wind downwards, and rub precise, little circles on your slippery clit, and it's all too much, you're hurtling toward the precipice at neck break speed- "god, simon, please-"
his pace never falters, not his hips nor his fingers as your moans begin to rise in pitch. "i'll get ya there, love."
he does, he gets you to your highest peak- blindingly intense- one that chokes the very breath out of you and slackens your knees. "i've got ya."
there's no strength left in you to brace for the spine-jarring thrusts he gives after, the only thing keeping you from sprawling forward is the arm that's looped around you as he pulls you to him.
"on anything?" he rumbles.
your ears ring at that because he can't possibly- your head shakes unbidden.
"good."
the last four thrusts are heavy, backed by his weight, and he smothers a loud groan into the junction of your shoulder as he finishes inside of you- thick, viscous cum filling you until it begins to drip and fall to the floor with an audible plop.
he presses tender little kisses to your sweaty shoulder and nips the side of your neck. "just in time."
the clock on the stove says 5 minutes before the bus gets there.
he helps you redress, chuckling under his breath when you won't look him in the eye. "i'll get the kids, go get cleaned up."
the knot in your chest loosens when you hear the boys' laughter at seeing their father on the driveway. it loosens when simon picks both of them up, one in each arm, and glances up at you as you look down at them from the window.
heat licks up your cheeks when he gives you a smarmy little grin.
idiot.
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
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satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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nivisdreaming · 8 months
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Kinktober Day 1: Size - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
WC: 1.1k
CW: Size play, predator/prey dynamics, established relationship, piv penetration, no protection, creampie, teasing, praise, sub!reader, dom!miguel, subspace implied, reader gets fucked so good she passes out, aftercare is included
Notes: first time writing for miguel? pog? also welcome to kinktober everyone its gonna get freaky >:)
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Miguel is constantly pinning you to things. He’s not even doing it on purpose necessarily, he’s just so big.
It’s not his fault that he’ll reach for something over your head, or try to scooch behind you in the kitchen or hallway, and all of a sudden you’re pushed against the nearest surface being towered over by a 6’9 spider hybrid.
What is his fault is how he abuses it once he realizes how flustered it makes it. He’s always been very perceptive when it came to you. He knows how your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, how your breath hitches, and your thighs squeeze together in need, right as you look upward to view him caging you in. It always gives a sickening ego boost. You’re just so small compared to him. Breakable. Fragile. Delicate. Delicious.
He starts subtlety. Sneaking behind you when you’re making morning coffee, hovering behind when you work at your desk, and of course, getting you down on your knees for him whenever possible. It doesn’t take long to escalate however, coming to a head one night before he is set to attend a Spider Society gala with you as his plus one.
You slide the dress up your body carefully, allowing the snug material to cling tight around your breasts in its strapless style. You straighten it out and peered over your shoulder to call, “Miggy? Can you come zip me up please?”
You adjust your hair and makeup in the mirror as you listen to his lumbering footsteps, smiling when he appears behind you, his eyes tracing over your curves in the reflection. He takes a step closer, and the way his shoulders dwarf yours causes your breath to hitch. He slides a hand up your side and another comes to rest on the back of your neck. You open your mouth to make the request again, but the air is knocked out of you as he pushes forwards, pinning you firmly to the floor-length mirror without looking away from his scanning of your body.
“Sweet, tiny little thing. You’re so easy to push around, aren’t you, mi princesa?” He pushes his hips forward to rut against your ass, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the combo of his growling tone and his hot erection against you. He leans down to nip at your earlobe before muttering, “I know you love how much bigger than you I am. Does it make you feel all funny? To know how I could wreck you, how I could turn you into my cowering prey, stuck underneath me? It makes your brain all fuzzy. And it makes your cunt dripping wet.” He uses the hand on your side to tug up the dress, exposing your bare ass. He scoffs at the lewdity and gives one of the round globes a spank, forcing a whimper from you.
You watch him in the mirror as he blocks you in on all sides while running a finger down to your folds, teasingly sliding it against your entrance before bringing it to his month to suck off the slick. He hums in approval and moves his arms to sit on either side of your head, leaving you boxed in but free to move against him.
“Spin around. I wanna look you in the eyes while I stretch your tight pussy to it’s breaking point, and if I see you look away I will make sure neither of us sees this event tonight.”
You gulp and slowly twirl around, having to crane your neck to meet his eyes even as he leers down at you. He places a hand over yours and coaxes it to the front of his crotch, using you to squeeze at his bulge before instructing you to undo the zipper and pull him out. You obey without hesitation, allowing him to tug down the top of your dress and reveal your tits as you do. His cock springs eagerly from its confines, precum already leaking from the tip that has flushed a deep purple.
Instinctively you try to drop down to your knees, your clouded headspace demanding that you needed to gag around him as soon as possible, but he manhandles you back up and off the ground with your wrists above your head and legs wrapped around his slutty waist. The rough force has you moaning softly, eyes already glazed over despite the lack of direct stimulation. It makes him chuckle darkly.
He lines his tip up with your entrance and gives no warning before sliding in with a single thrust. The slick dripping down your thighs is plenty of lube as he begins an earth-shattering pace, hips slamming into yours and tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He leans down and vigorously sucks and bites around your breasts, littering them with hickeys while you cry on his cock, sobbing hysterically from pleasure.
He pulls away from his marking to take in your appearance, at the fat globs of tears gathering on your cheeks make his hips stutter and his abs tense. “God, princesa, feels so good to corrupt you like this,” he switches his grip from your hip to your tummy so he can thumb at your clit, “So ruined for me. Molded this tiny cunt to my dick, so it’s perfect just for me.” You whimper at the praise, jaw dropping open and tongue lolling out as he slides against the spongey spot inside you and rubs fast circles around your bundle of nerves.
“That’s it, my good little girl. So delicate, just gotta take care of you by breaking that poor little brain every once and awhile. Go ahead sweet thing, cum on me, show me how good little prey thank the predators.” His words send you spinning into the abyss, everything in your body pulling taunt and then snapping back as your vision goes from white to black and suddenly you’re so light and floaty that you can’t feel the way you soak Miguel’s cock, nor the way he cums deep inside you as your walls milk him dry. You don’t feel him carry you to the bed, or feel him drag the damp cloth between your legs. You don’t feel how he kisses both your cheeks in hopes of getting your eyes to flutter open, to no avail.
What you do feel is when he pulls your trembling body against his broad chest, rubbing up and down on your arms softly and whispering to you. “Mi amor, you gotta come back to me now. Open up those eyes for me. You did so good for me baby, surprised you made it as long as you did without passing out on my dick. C’mon, wakey wakey corazón.” His words are encouragement enough to float back downwards, settling into his touch until you have enough strength to pull your eyelids open and peer up at him with large doe-eyes. “Aw, welcome back little girl. Te amo.”
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ohproserpine · 4 months
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iii. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love, murder
The next night, Alastor returned in unusually high spirits. He practically dragged you onto the dance floor, twirling you around in dizzying circles for eight whole rounds. If you hadn't asked him to stop, you might have ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion.
As it was a Saturday night and you weren't scheduled to perform, the trio of you settled in at the bar, enjoying drinks and each other's company as the night wore on.
"Come on, doll! Bottoms up!" Mimzy cheered, her laughter bubbling with infectious energy. The blonde pressed a crystal-clear glass against your lips, tilting it up and urging you to indulge further. The cool liquid burned as it slid down your throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The room turned into a swirling blend of jazz melodies, clinking glasses, and loud, loud chatter.
After a few seconds, unable to endure the relentless flow of alcohol, you finally pushed her hand away with a sputter and a cough. The taste of the giggle water lingered on your lips as you slumped against Alastor's chest, your burning cheeks squished against the fabric of his coat.
"Had a bit too much, have we?" he smirked. The radio host smoothly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the fine fabric of his suit brushing against your skin as he held you upright against him. You nestled against Alastor, swaying slightly to the music, the alcohol-induced haze casting a dreamy glow over your vision. "My, it looks as though the night's got its claws in you, cher."
"Not yet it hasn't," you grinned, your words slurring slightly as you shifted against him, a hand outstretched to grab your drink off the counter.
"Ah ah ah," Alastor chuckled as he took your glass from you, setting it aside with a careful motion. "Let's not push our luck, shall we?"
"Aw, don't be such a wet blanket!" Mimzy snorted, her curls bouncing as she plopped onto the seat beside you. "She's just having a good time! Ain't that right, doll?"
"Mhm!" you nodded your head eagerly before stopping, the ceaseless nodding causing a dull ache in your head.
"There's a good time, and then there's getting plastered. I'd hate to see the star of the show here end up on the floor. Ha ha!" Alastor boomed out with a laugh, catching you off guard. You would have stumbled off the seat if it weren't for his swift reflexes, his gloved hand wrapping around your arm to pull you back up.
"Such a klutz," Alastor tutted with a smirk as he steadied you. "See? What ever would happen to my favorite showgirl if I don't keep a watchful eye?" 
"Oh, please!" Mimzy snorted as she slid another cool glass of giggle water in front of you, leaving a glistening trail of water from the condensation. "She's handled worse than this. We're just getting started!”
"Mimzy, my dear, it seems my words didn't quite get into that thick skull of yours," Alastor enunciated with a tight-lipped smile. "Allow me to say it in much more simpler terms; she has had enough."
"Oh, come on—"
"Do you want all your patrons to witness yet another fiasco in this establishment?"Alastor smiled as he bore his gaze into the blonde's doe eyes. "Because it does sure seem like a night can't pass here without a fuckup!"
Mimzy's shoulders raised in surprise. She stayed silent for a while before forcing out a response through gritted teeth. "No."
Alastor leaned in, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, voice devoid of his usual eccentricity. "Then dry up. Understood?"
"Understood," Mimzy rolled her eyes, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared at her feet.
"Lovely." Alastor hummed before straightening himself. And just like that, the tension dissipated, replaced by an air of nonchalance.
"Well! This has been a delightful night, but I do believe it's time to escort this lovely lady home, don't you think?" Alastor's tone shifted back to its usual charm, as nothing had happened. He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your ditzy self out of the bar stool as he began to guide you out of the speakeasy.
"Best of luck, chums!"
.
"Can you believe it? That lousy, two-timing rat! You introduce him to the girl of his dreams, and what does he do? He high-tails it outta here with her, leaving us all high and dry!" Mimzy ranted, shaking her fist in frustration before pouring herself another drink. "Not a word for a whole week! I had to call in Nitwit Nancy to cover her Friday shifts! And you know that broad sounds like a screeching cat on a hot tin roof."
Beside her, Angel Dust was flabbergasted, his jaw hanging open with the champagne glass dangling loosely from his hands, its contents long spilled onto the counter, creating a shimmering puddle on the bar. Husk grumbled as he wiped the counter clean with a worn-out rag, eyes flickering between Mimzy and Angel.
The spider was staring at Mimzy as if the blonde had just sprouted a third tit, his eyes wide and struggling to process everything he had just been told.
“Why is you gawkin'?!” Mimzy leaned away from Angel, unsettled by the look on his face. “Aww. Is it 'cuz I'm adorable?”
"Fuckin' hell, toots," the spider coughed out a laugh. "I'm having difficulty understanding all that you just spat at me, blondie. What happened to you ‘keeping a secret’?"
Mimzy's body tensed, a sudden realization flashing across her face as she belatedly registered the fact that she had been running her mouth.
Shaking her head, she pulled herself back together with a huff. "Whatever, alright?! I doubt—"
Suddenly, a loud bang at the door echoed through the room, causing the two demons to startle in their seats. Mimzy's head snapped towards the source of the noise so swiftly she nearly gave herself whiplash. In growing horror, she watched as the hinges of the hotel's entrance door began to creak, the walls around them starting to crack and shed plaster.
"Mimzy! We know you're in there! You lousy bitch!"
"Oh, shit," she winced sinking into her seat.
"What the fuck—" Husk cursed, his words drowned out by the sudden explosion that violently rattled the lower windows. Shards of glass rained down onto the floor as dust and debris filled the air, choking their senses. Husk whipped his head around to glare at Mimzy when she vaulted over the bar counter, seeking refuge behind the sturdy wood.
"I fucking knew it. What shit have you brought to us this time?" Husk demanded, his grip tightening on her dress as he lifted her up. Another explosion echoed through the building, the shockwaves pulsing through the floor causing Husk to stumble and drop her. 
With a pained grunt, the blonde crashed to the floor, her bruised front absorbing the brunt of the impact. As she lifted her head, she met Husk's glare.
"Ahah... Well," Mimzy sheepishly smiled, her eyes darting nervously as she cowered on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder and more aggressive, echoing through the hotel lobby like a menacing drumbeat.
Angel Dust stood frozen by one of the living room walls, his hands pressed against it to anchor himself. Suddenly, he noticed the television set flickering with an eerie glow, emitting dissonant static noises that seemed to crawl under his fur. The crackling sound took on an unsettling pitch, and an odd pink electricity surged through the screen, casting a sickly hue across the room. "What the fuck...?!"
In that moment, Vaggie and Charlie stormed onto the scene, their eyes widening in disbelief as they absorbed the chaotic sight. The hotel lobby, once orderly and serene, now lay in ruins—furniture overturned, glass shattered, and the wallpaper charred.
"What's happening?!" Vaggie exclaimed, swiftly drawing her spear and slicing a chunk of concrete in half before it could reach her. The broken pieces ricocheted off the walls, adding to the destruction.
"We are under sssiege!" Sir Pentious screamed as he scrambled to get Nifty into his arms, slithering behind the toppled-over couch for cover. The banging on the door intensified, accompanied by muffled threats and angry shouts from outside. "It'sss all that harlot'sss fault!
"Harlot?" Vaggie questioned, her fiery gaze sweeping the room for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Upon spotting Mimzy, her eyes narrowed as her lips curled into a snarl. "Explain."
"I may or may not be in trouble with an overlord! Well, maybe a couple of 'em," Mimzy rushed out, her words tumbling over each other in a nervous babble. "And I may or may not have 'borrowed' one of their top showgirls. And, well, got that girl killed… but she had it coming!"
Vaggie's patience waned with each new sentence Mimzy added, and a low groan escaped her lips.
"Leave this to me," she hissed, red-hot fury flashing in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her spear. "Everyone, get somewhere safe."
"I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my dear."
A sudden crackling static, skin to the ominous hum of a radio, seeped through the room as Alastor emerged from the shadowed corners. The demon's grin twisted unnaturally, stretching up to his glowing crimson eyes, which emitted an eerie, hollow glow. Tendrils of inky shadow began to writhe and sprout from Alastor's back, emitting sickening cracking noises.
In the blink of an eye, he dashed outside, engaging in his unholy work, swiftly and effortlessly ridding the area of its assailants. The air outside carried echoes of screams and the sharp, metallic scent of blood.
Before everyone could fully comprehend the whirlwind of events that had just transpired, the screaming ceased. Shortly after, Alastor returned to his usual demeanor. Nonchalantly stepping back into the damaged lounge, he dusted off his suit, traces of blood marking his path on the floors.
"Alastor! Babyface! Good show!" Mimzy began clapping, seemingly unfazed by the gorey scene as she stepped out of her hiding spot. "Bravo! bravo!"
Upon hearing Mimzy's voice, Alastor's head fully twisted around with a loud, bone-chilling crack accompanying the movement. The radio demon moved toward her, his towering 7-foot form eclipsing her much smaller figure. He bared his sharp teeth in a menacing smile as his antlers began to grow in length, curling and twisting over his head—a display nothing short of terrifying.
"You—"
"Alastor~" Charlie's voice quivered with forced cheerfulness, her hands wringing together anxiously. "Haha! Let's, uh, try to keep our cool here, okay? We really don't need any more messes, do we? Haha!"
The princess's attempt at forced cheerfulness made her look desperate, her manic expression surfacing as her pupils visibly shrank, darting around the room like startled prey.
Alastor closed his eyes, the tension in his form visible as he took a moment to regain composure. Gradually, his antlers reverted to their usual size. With an eerie calm settling over him, he reopened his eyes, though the strain was evident in his smile. "My apologies, chum. I'll be out of your hair in a bit."
He spared Charlie one more glance, his gaze piercing, before redirecting his attention to Mimzy. The intensity in his stare bore into her as he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Since you are so eager to catch up, why don't we have a talk? In private."
With that, the radio demon snapped his fingers, transporting both of them out of the lounge.
"Dumb bitch," Husk grumbled under his breath, covering his eyes with his paws and slamming his head onto the bar counter. "We're all fucked once he finds out."
"Find out what?" Walking up to him, Angel Dust shot Husk a confused look. The spider delicately brushed away the dust that clung to his grey fur, picking out the bigger pieces of cement and plaster. "I thought they were friends?"
Husk raised his head off the counter, mismatched eyes meeting Angel's own. "Not anymore."
.
Mimzy slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the surreal sight of a blood-red room surrounding her. It housed a radio station complete with an array of dials and a microphone, the very tools she knew Alastor utilized for his broadcasts.
'His broadcasting station?' she noted, curiously looking about the room.
Suddenly, Alastor's firm grip closed around her shoulder, causing her to whirl around with disorienting speed. His bloodied claws moved to cradle both of her rosy cheeks, their sharp edges looming dangerously close to breaking skin while he squeezed her face as though dealing with a disobedient child.
"I thought I made it very clear that you were to step nowhere near me," Alastor forced her to stare up at him. Despite the discomfort caused by Alastor's claws digging in, Mimzy maintained her confident demeanor and glared straight back up at him. "Did I not, dearest?"
"Oh, I just ran into a spot of trouble, and I thought, who better to lend a helping hand than you?" Mimzy rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grasp, massaging the tender flesh of her cheeks. "You always love helping lil ole me."
"Enough. What is it you want?" Alastor snapped. "Should you persist in wasting more of my precious time, I will relish tearing you apart limb from limb, and the symphony of your sweet screams will be a broadcast for all of Hell to revel in."
Mimzy, unfazed, leaned in with a sly grin, her fingers playfully tracing the lapel of Alastor's coat. "Alright, tall, dark, and creepy. I know you aren't going to do shit."
"After all," she batted her lashes at him, "Hurting me would be hurting her, now wouldn't it?"
The blonde pressed her finger into his chest, poking him repeatedly. "That was in the contract~ You. Heartless. Son. Of. A. Bitch."
A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in the depths of Alastor's throat. "Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, catching her finger mid-poke. "You seem to be overlooking the delicate nature of contracts. It might be wise for you to tread more carefully, relying on such flimsy assurances."
"Flimsy?!" Mimzy scowled. "I got your girl on a leash!"
"Lets make this very clear," Alastor's voice deepened into a growl, eyes flashing red in warning. "This contract doesn't grant you a carte blanche to play games with my patience. If not for her plea to spare you, your fate would have been sealed by now."
As Alastor's grip moved to tighten around her throat, Mimzy's eyes nervously tracked the sharp edge of his claws, her breath catching in her throat.
"W-Whatevah! A contract is a contract," she retorted. Mimzy roughly pulled away from him, scrambling to gain the upper hand again. "Even if there ain't a soul exchange, it's still binding!"
"Yes, indeed! I am well aware of contractual obligations, dear," Alastor grinned, his cane tightening in his grip, claws leaving indents on the dark steel. Bending down to meet her gaze, he continued, "But you seem to have forgotten that time's almost up! The expiration for your contract is nearing. And when that happens, I do intend to reclaim what is rightfully mine – my wife. At that point, you will find yourself plunged into an abyssal world of unrelenting agony."
"Abyss, schmabyss. I've dealt with worse," Mimzy scoffed, her hand waving dismissively. "Now look, I got what I wanted outta you, and I don't have to take this."
With that, the blonde turned with a dramatic flair, her heels clicking against the floor as she stomped towards the door. She adjusted her hair and straightened her dress, a smug smirk dancing on her lips.
"Have fun with your little princess and your little project," she quipped.
Over her shoulder, she shot Alastor one last look, a sly glint in her eyes. "Because I sure am having fun with mine~"
Dry up - Shut up Giggle Water - Liquor Carte Blanche - Complete freedom to act as one wishes
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celesterayel · 5 months
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the it couple | luke castellan
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request: I’m not really sure what qualifies as a request but could you write a Luke x reader where they are like the camp it couple? 🫶🫶
summary: common knowledge is how irrevocably in love luke castellan is with you.
"you know i adore you, i'm crazier for you than i was at sixteen lost in a film scene" - t.s.
w.c. : 702
warning(s) : none
pairing : luke castellan x reader
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the campers of camp half blood don't quite remember how or when it had happened. It just always was: you and Luke Castellan, that is. where you went, he followed. the shadow to your guide and you the balm to his sorrow. annabeth used to whisper to the younger children–the ones who had been taken to camp far too young and therefore had little knowledge of love–that you and Luke Castellan were soulmates: seamlessly bound to one another. 
you yourself had never believed in fate despite the fact that you had met them–old bitter hags. you preferred to believe that life was not set in stone, unbreaking and withered to a timeline. it perhaps led to your brash attitude and ‘ride or die’ mentality but your mannerisms only made luke castellan fall in love with you all the more. some things were just beyond the gods' control. you and luke were one of those things.
you had first arrived at camp a decade ago, where you were then claimed by hades. of course news of you spread like wildfire: you were gorgeous, your talent with your bo staff was unmatched, and your father was one of the three–strong power ran through your blood and you showed it everyday during training. but that wasn’t exactly what caught the attention of everyone, rather the fact that the popular gaze of a certain brown-eyed boy always strayed to you. when you laughed, he smiled. where you went, he strayed. you were magnet and he was never far away.
you both tipped toed around one another, constantly drifting toward the other. playful banter slipped between you two and those around you wondered when you would finally just get together. the first time you guys finally breached the delicate line between more than ‘obviously pining friends’ was after an exciting rivalry game.
despite the strategic planning of annabeth–who clearly eyed the tension between the two of you–and the excellent swordsmanship, house ares had won the game because of you. You had been the one to distract luke castellan after clarisse had forced you to use your charms. it was fun to see the cute blush adorn his cheeks when you approached the head of the Hermes House.
“so, does this mean you agree to go out with me?” he breathed out, hands twirling his sword as he was once again bested by you in capturing the flag.
you laughed out, “i was just waiting for you to ask, castellan.”
no sooner after you had begun dating did the infamy of you two reach an all high around camp. how could it not? 
you two were the all anyone could talk about–the best of the best.
luke castellan was already the best swordsman at camp; a prodigy in the making. his brown curls and dimples only made him more popular among the girls and young teens. he was one of the highest placed leaders around camp; one of the few that clarisse actually respected and the one that annabeth regarded most. 
you were a gem in the rough: bold and brash at times, but calculating and quick-witted. you were the one to turn to when those around camp felt alone, always ready to take care of others and offer words of wisdom. you were a living definition of rules being broken and your power only highlighted the height of your placement around camp. 
when you two walked by, the eyes of the others strayed. newcomers learned of your names before they learned what exactly camp half blood was. 
when you threw your head back and laughed, people watched as Luke curled his lips in pride at being the one behind your laughter. when he sat round the fire and sang songs with the campers, you sat right beside him; head laying on his shoulder and hoping the moment would never end. he willingly allowed himself to lose camp games if only by your hand, time and time again.
yes, you were the it couple of camp half blood but none of that mattered, when he was the one for you.
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tteokdoroki · 8 months
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✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.
things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3
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“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.
you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.
playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”
“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.
you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”
gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.
“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”
he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.
“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.
“my friends are coming over.”
“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”
“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”
“do you own this house?”
“no but i-“
“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”
“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.
even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.
your poor, spoiled, baby brother.
however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”
satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.
but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.
“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”
saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.
you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body. 
satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”
your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”
“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”
you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.
 he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.
you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”
“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”
you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”
satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.
guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal. 
pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock. 
“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”
he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.” 
his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“
he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 
“s-satoru!”
he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i  the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?” 
you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell. 
“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride. 
angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.” 
the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.
and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base. 
he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise. 
“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“
the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks. 
that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!” 
you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.
“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.
when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms  his hard and heavy cock as he pleases. 
it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears. 
you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires. 
you think you prefer that side of you more. 
meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.
a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.
whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.” 
“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation. 
satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle. 
“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends. 
he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him. 
whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell. 
that day, you learn two valuable lessons: 
one —  never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills. 
two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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sttoru · 10 months
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“PLAYING WITH FIRE.”
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༄ sypnosis. you show up to jujutsu high to pay satoru a visit on your day off, though that visit quickly turns into him bending you over in his office.
༄ note. ehh.. satoru brainrot. especially teacher satoru who’s a different person when you two r alone and away from his students.. slurps.
༄ tags. satoru x female reader. dom!satoru, sub!reader. unprotected sex, creampie, doggy style, degradation, objectification, kinda dubcon in one sentence, hair pulling, satoru takes pictures, bit of overstimulation, tiny bit of aftercare.
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satoru had been trying very hard to keep his hands off of you in front of his students after you walked into his classroom. you used the famous excuse of ‘dropping off his forgotten lunch’ to bother your boyfriend at work.
you were all dolled up, make up done nicely while wearing a skimpy outfit that was almost scandalous to attend a prestigious school in.
satoru caved in immediately the moment you two were alone in the privacy of his office.
“n’more.. no more— please.” you babble mindlessly, a string of your own saliva trickling down the corner of your mouth and onto your chin.
“ah, fuck, you can do it, baby; just hold on f’me.” satoru reassures you through deep grunts, clamping a hand on your mouth to prevent you from making too much noise.
not that that’d be able to muffle the squelchy sounds that echoed throughout his office every time he plunged his cock into your sopping cunt.
“haah, shit— let me put that pretty mouth of yours to use, c’mon.”
two of his long fingers slide between your lips and without hesitation, you twirl your tongue around and suck at them as if on cue.
“mhh, just like that.” satoru hisses as he feels your saliva coat his skin while his other hand circles your clit.
his eyes wander down to your ass and the way it jiggles each time he slams his hips against the plump flesh.
satoru was also completely entranced by the sight of his cock—now glazed with a mixture of your juices— disappearing and reappearing not a second afterwards with each thrust.
“holy shit, y’re such a slutty thing.” a groan leaves his lips and you can feel him twitch inside of you the minute you tighten up around him. his filthy words were making your legs shake.
“yeah? ya like that, hm?” satoru’s hand which stimulated your clit left its place only to grab a fistful of your hair to yank your head back,
“bet you do, ‘cause this is exactly what you wanted by comin’ here dressed like that.”
you whine and dig your nails into the wooden surface beneath you, vision blurry as you feel the tears form due to satoru pulling at your hair. not only that; satoru knew just how to angle his hips to be able to hit the furthest parts of your sloppy pussy.
“nnh— yes, yes! fuck.” your desperate cries were muffled as you continued to suck on satoru’s fingers with your drool dripping down onto his desk.
satoru’s bangs clung onto his forehead, the sweat running down his skin making it hard for his glasses to properly remain on the bridge of his nose.
“so eager- so fuckin’ eager for a cock to fill you up.” satoru lets the words roll off the tongue in the heat of the moment.
you know that you got him extremely riled up when satoru’s being like this. it’s attractive to say the least; you’ve always loved it whenever he lets go of any self-control and just straight up fucks you brainless—not caring where you two may be.
his desk trembles with each intense thrust. the various objects on it threatening to fall as they all neared the edge due to the vibrations from your bodies.
it’s not like your boyfriend cared about the mess he’d make of his office when he’d rather make a mess out of you and your aching cunt.
“gonna—fuck—cum in your pussy, yeah? gonna have ya walk ‘round campus with my cum.”
you mindlessly nod along, babbling something incoherent that sounded like a ‘yes, please’ to satoru’s ears. and if it wasn’t, well, he’d do it anyway.
the thought of you walking out of his office afterwards with his hot load leaking out of your sweet cunt, you subtly trying to hide the liquid with your skirt since he ripped your panties apart; it drove him to the edge of insanity.
“shit, shit, shit.” curses leave satoru’s lips as he feels the pleasure building up to the point of release, “‘m gonna cum so hard— fuck!”
a deep groan echoes in your ears as you feel spurts of hot, thick cum flood your aching pussy— seeping straight into your womb.
“ngh— ‘toru!” you gasp for air once his fingers left your mouth so that satoru could grab onto your hips.
“stay still, angel. mm— have’ta make sure it stays.” the white-haired man adds in a husky tone and continues to pump into you with a few firm and deep strokes.
his blue eyes peered through his glasses at the sinful view of the white liquid overflowing and slowly dripping onto your thighs.
after making sure to push his cum as far as possible, satoru pulls out with a hiss.
just when you thought it’d be over, you could feel him rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your cunt— smearing his cum, along with your own juices, all over your folds.
“now that’s a sight.” satoru hums slightly, licking his lips before bending his upper body forward. his chest was flush against your back while you tried to catch your breath on his desk.
soft pecks were placed all over the back of your neck, one last one on your forehead.
“you did so well, baby.” he reassures you, tone and expression back to his usual soft one.
you smile back tiredly at him as you mumble a quick ‘thank you’ between deep breaths. your exhausted eyes followed satoru’s hands as they searched for something in his pockets.
a grin spreads on his face before he leans down again to whisper into your ear, one hand caressing your back while the other held his phone.
“be good for me and stay bent over like that, m’kay? need to take a pic of the mess i made.”
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