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cupcakeinat0r · 4 months

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Don’t mind me, just thinkin abt self-conscious Dad Bod! Miguel :,,(

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Since y’all been together, he’s gained some weight which he isn’t too happy about. It’s not really him it bothers. He couldn’t care less if his stomach was pudgy or if his love handles were coming in, he was more worried about you losing your physical attraction towards him.

Miguel couldn’t be more wrong though. Especially since his ass got fatter, yum.

You could never stop yourself from smacking it every time you walked past him. He’d get embarrassed, then he’d try to get back you back, which he always did. Then it’d lead to a silly game of tag.

One day though, he was on the couch watching tv, wearing a tank top and some basketball shorts. You had just woken up and went to grab something to eat, but you stopped at the door of your shared bedroom, beholding the sight. He didn’t see you yet, but you quietly took a moment for yourself to just… admire him.

The way his bulging biceps and pecs were just sitting there, resting across the back of the couch. His man spread that gave you the perfect view of his massive thighs and what was in between, the shorts fitting just right, borderline too tight. And then the lack of abs that used to be there… but you weren’t complaining. In fact,

You loved that.

In his peripheral, Miguel notices you at the bedroom door. “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Good morning, handsome.” You say, smiling at the love of your life, stuck at the doorway and admiring him.

“Ven aqui conmigo, beba.” He motions for his lap, and naturally, you follow his request.

While the two of you hold a longing gaze, you straddle him, your hands resting on his chest. You share a tender kiss, the smacks of your lips turning the both of you on. Miguel moans into your mouth as he feels your hips lazily grind against him, his manhood twitching at the sensation. Your hands begin to trail down his belly, tugging upward at the hem of his tank top, but then he stops you, “Mmmwait… let’s- let’s keep that on, okay?”

You raise your eyebrow, confused at this. “Why? What’s wrong?” You murmur, genuinely concerned.

“No, I’m fine, it’s just… look, I know I’ve put on some weight, so you don’t have to do this if you don’t feel like it-“

“Miguel O’Hara,” You look at him sternly, “I absolutely do not care if you gain weight. I love you no matter what. Besides,” your face softens into a more seductive expression, “Ever heard of relationship weight? It just means I’m takin’ good care of my mans… aren’t I taking good care of you, baby?” You coo at him, your hands snaking their way to the hem of his top again.

He slowly nods, his self doubt and insecurities melting away at your words. “Now let me take this off, please? I wanna see all of my man.” He lets you pull off the tank top, revealing the mouth- watering dad bod he’s acquired since dating you.

Your eyes drink him up, your hands following pursuit. Miguel’s huge, calloused hands tighten on your hips, squeezing the flesh there, trying to gauge your reaction.

“God, just looking at you does things to me.” You mewl against his ear, peppering kisses along his thick neck. Your hips start again, the bulge just underneath your heat growing larger.

“Mmfuck, you mean it, baby?” he moans, voice strained, his face in complete euphoria.

“Every word.” You mutter, smothering his face in kisses as your hips go deeper and harder against his hardened cock.

“And I don’t wanna hear anymore of this nonsense, you hear me?” You continue speaking in between kisses, showering him with them on his cheeks, forehead, jaw, temple, anywhere, “you’re the most cutest,” smack, “most handsome,” smack, “most sexy,” smack, “most fine lookin’ man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You finally plant a desperate, much more needy kiss on his lips, your tongues dancing with each other.

“Mmm, yes ma’am.”

Long story short, you get him all riled up enough that he pushes you down into the couch and completely wrecks you while your wear a t shirt of his <3 Isn’t he just so dreamy??? <3333333

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

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giuliettagaltieri · 5 months

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Giggles and Wiggles

Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Pregnant!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Gojō Satoru vs. a pregnant woman's hormones.

Warning: pregnancy, mood swings, flirting, suggested misogyny, jujutsu society stigma, implied cunnilingus

Word Count: 973

7 of 9

It was difficult for Gojō to understand how much strength your body has to be able to carry all that weight.

He was aware of his physical stature, a hundred and ninety centimeters tall. He knows he is not exactly small, and with his genes growing inside your cute belly, he worries your pregnancy will be difficult.

And there you were, rounded and full, and you were only seven months pregnant.

The day started quiet and warm. You in his arms, sighing softly in his chest.

And then your son decided it was a good idea to send a power kick through your belly.

Your eyes pop open, watering immediately at the impact.

Gojō cradles your belly as he hushes you, his lips pressed in your temple.

It took a while to calm you and even after that, you were already grumpy, lips turned upside down as a frown pinched your brows.

Gojō knows better than to bother you further so he started the day on his own. He padded to your shared closet and selected his clothing, eyeing your heavy kimonos with much contempt. He was in the middle of a big yawn when your distressed cry reached his ears.

His clothes were dropped on the tatami mat and he rushed out of the walk-in closet.

And there he stood at the foot of your bed, watching you. Just…watching you.

You had tears streaming down your cheeks, your temples beaded with sweat as you made grabby hands at him.

“I-I can’t get out of bed, Toru.” You whimpered.

It made his cock strain. He clears his throat and quickly supports your back as he lifts you off your bed.

Your warm bare thigh brushes against his manhood and you cry harder. How could your suffering arouse him! How dare he!

“‘S all your fault!” You cry on his chest and Gojō bites his cheek to stifle a snicker. “You did this!”

He simply nods as he strokes your hair, peppering your head with kisses.

“Of course. Mmh, yes. Yes, it’s all my fault.” His arms were wrapped around you as he swayed you from side to side.

After a gentle bath with you, with Gojō doing everything for you, your hormones decided to take a break.

And you were smiling up at him again as he brushed your hair, you were lavishing your skin with the moisturizing creams he bought for you and kept asking for kisses.

Gojō was happy to do so. He liked seeing you happy.

But your sweet spirit slowly dissipates with every layer of clothing you wear. Formality returning as you become what is expected of a Gojō lady.

Your husband did not like that. He liked being playful and endearing to you, and he was almost grateful for the change that your pregnancy did to your emotions.

Although, he was still always careful with the boundaries he crossed.

It is just, there are moments in which he loses himself after catching sight of your bare skin.

A soft moan has Gojō’s eyes traveling to his right, there you sat, your face in a twist as you stretched your back. His eyes followed your hand as you rubbed your waist.

“You alright?” He asks before sipping his tea. His hands glided the fountain pen faster in the paper to finish his work. He enjoyed your company when he was at home, but being stationary in your seat, despite you almost drowning in cushions already, might be causing a strain on your pregnant body.

He caps the pen and places a paperweight on the documents.

“Wanna take a walk?” He asks as he stands up to stretch.

“Oh, yes.” You say softly. He slips his hand under your forearms and helps you up with a soft grunt, your cheeks warming at the sound.

Gojō places a hand on the small of your back as you walk and immediately feels how stiff your posture is. He might need to get serious about those stretches you do, maybe he can join you more often to help.

His eyes glance at you as you sigh and attempt to subtly roll your shoulder.

“You should probably take those clothes off.”

Your hands fly to your chest, one on top of the other as you look at him in pure horror.

“N-not in that way.” Gojō scratches his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. “Still acting like a maiden when you’re heavy with my child?” He rubs his knuckle on your cheek and your hands cover your flushed face.

Gojō guides you forward to continue your walk.

“I meant, you should reduce the layers you wear. Your belly is heavy as is, you don’t need to carry unnecessary weight.”

You frown at him. “I don’t mind. The lady of the house is expected to wear such clothing.”

He clicks his tongue. “I don’t care what’s expected of you. I say you should wear comfortable clothing. And whatever I say, goes.”

You choose not to speak further as his tone turns to a more assertive one, and you are reminded that the man you are walking next to is the head of the clan. His word is law in this house.

The elders seem to have a difficult time understanding that.

So Gojō Satoru brought it upon himself to wage war with your closet.

One by one, your pretty kimonos started disappearing. Your tight obis vanish along with them.

After some time, the clan elders simply had to raise their concerns as the wife of the clan head was no longer wearing the appropriate clothing.

Gojō started a bonfire that night. The pretty silk being fed to the blazing fire that was shot from the fingertips of the man who has his head buried deep between your thighs.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

#gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojō satoru #arranged marriage #jujutsu kaisen #dad gojo #gojo fluff #gojo smut #gojo x pregnant reader #where the blue roses grow

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penisbagelbite · 1 month

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"Affirmation" & Malgendering

"Fine, I'll 'respect' your gender, but I'll make it absolutely miserable for you. What? You don't like the way I'm 'affirming' your gender? Guess you'll have to stop being a (trans) man then."

I want to put something out there about what I call "malgendering". I see trans men talk about the phenomenon and acknowledge it as a part of antitransmasculinity but not the concept of "malgendering" itself and what it's purpose is, and as trans men and transmasculine people are especially caught in the lose-lose situation between misgendering and malgendering I think it is an important concept to establish. The erasure of transmasculinity, particularly as a unique gender and gendered experience, also serves to keep the transmasculine trapped within this double-bind, positioned between the gender binary of cis patriarchal ideas of womanhood and manhood, where for us there is only misgendering (being abused with the Woman gender) or malgendering (being abused with the Man gender).

I define malgendering as the practice of "validating" someone's gender identity only when it can be used against them and to hurt them, and malgendering almost always involves the enforcement of only the most negative sexist stereotypes available onto the victim with none of the "positives". If misgendering is forcefully pushing you back into your 'proper place' such as by calling you a "girl" or a "her" and showing you that you're really a woman through sexual assault -malgendering is scaring and traumatizing you into it by using your own gender against you. Malgendering is the realization that you don't need to misgender someone to hurt them or to punish them for the way they identity and push them towards the gender they're 'supposed' to be - you can do all that through 'validation'. It's psychological warfare on the sense of self.

This violence and abuse under the guise of "respect" and "identity affirmation" creates plausible deniability of intent and places the blame on the victim for "identifying that way", so much so that even other trans people will defend it and believe it's not maligned (especially because "but being seen as and treated as your gender is what trans rights is all about!" and "errm but its transphobic to not treat u this way?/ur misgendering urself by wanting to not be treated this way :/" with the hidden message being "don't like it? stop being trans"), even when faced with evidence of the (very much intended) effects it has on stalling and outright eliminating transmasculinity (ie. repression, detransition, suicide).

Some examples I can pull off the top of my head:

A transphobe is talking about a pregnant trans man. The whole energy of the Facebook video is 'comedic', and while calling birth the most “feminine” thing someone can do and alluding to how the trans man is really a woman, they still use he/him and call him a “guy” (in air-quotes). Not out of any respect but because the idea of a man being pregnant, calling a pregnant person a "he", and the very existence of the trans man in question, is the whole joke. In doing so, the transphobe has turned the act of using the proper pronouns and gendering him into a source of humiliation and made the experience of being properly gendered a demeaning one. -

The Ukraine military situation where all males aged between 18 and 60 were banned from leaving the country and obliged to serve in the military. Trans women were denied passage out of the country "because they were men", and trans men were similarly denied passage out of the country "because they were men". With the discrepancy between invalidating the gender of trans women and "validating" the gender of trans men, you'd think the motivation behind this would be obvious - that trans people are expendable meat and it's better they die than cis people. It shouldn't of needed to be said that "I'm only affirming your gender because it allows me to put you in a position where you will likely suffer and die and put the blame for it on you" is not 'respect' or 'affirming' at all but somehow this was taken as evidence for the idea of that trans men are more 'respected' and seen as their genders than others (and are thus 'privileged'). -

A common one almost every trans guy deals with at some point is cis people threatening to beat trans men up (and often following through), because "If you're a man and not a woman (anymore) that means I can punch you," using the proximity to masculinity that transmasculine people claim as a justification for violence. Every other week there's a new story in online transmasculine spaces about someone having their ribs broken with "Since/if you want to be a man so bad-" preceding the attack. -

The above is in a similar vein to when accounts of violence done to transmasculine people by cisgender men are brushed off and they're told something along the lines of "welcome to being a man", "that's just what men do to each other", "that's just the way things are with men", etc. along with the insistence that their attack had nothing to do with antitransmasculinity, making it an immutable problem with (cis)men as a whole - creating a sense hopelessness and that this is all they have to look forward to. -

Transmasculine individuals being refused treatment, tests, or insurance for gynecological issues, especially cancer, despite the knowledge that they are transmasculine, because "men don't deal with these problems" and they don't want "men in women's spaces", and if you don't want to be 'treated like a man' and get the care you need (and not die), you're going to have to go ahead and detransition, change that M marker back to an F.

All of this functions to create contention, and eventually a rift, between the individual and their sense of gender identity. Creating an association between being gendered 'correctly' and 'respected' as your gender (and ultimately existing as a transmasculine person) with abuse, violence, helplessness, trauma, fear, isolation... and by making transmasculinity and transmanhood uninhabitable and driving a wedge between the individual and their sense of gender identity you can more easily drag them back to their 'proper' place. Plant seeds of doubt by making being transmasculine an exceedingly unhappy experience. Make them think that everything that's happened is their own fault for choosing to be transmasculine or trying to be a man. That maybe since they're so unhappy this isn't for them. That living as a transmasculine person is just too difficult and they're not cut out for it, that if they "gave up" and were to be women again things would be easier and they would be safer and happier.

This also all serves to maintain cis patriarchal ideas of gender and the gender binary and police the boundaries of manhood, in a way I can't articulate right now.

Through all this, despite being called "men" during malgendering, we are not actually perceived as such. We are always an "other". Acknowledging us as "men" is just another weapon, and why some transmascs flinch at the phrase "trans men are men". Our own genders are used to beat us.

Using a scrap from my .txt journals:

"[...] on the subject of having a core aspect of yourself taken from you and turned into a weapon to beat you with, with the result being that aspect of yourself now becoming a source of trauma and pain so you abandon it and lock it away like an awful secret, that’s exactly what happened with my gender. Being genderless and a(nti)binary is what I’m most comfortable as, a(nti)gender is my ~real gender~, but I have to admit a lot of this is because I have been traumatized out of any gender with binary associations and have consequently come to know gender itself, and the act of gendering, as violence. Gender is but a designation for what exploitation, abuse, and violence can be enacted upon you and the justification there of. When someone asks whether you are "masc" or "femme", behind their back as they face you is a hammer in one hand, and a knife in the other, and what they are actually asking is if they can pummel you or lacerate you. When it comes to the “direction” I’m transitioning in though, it is obviously “masculine” (as much as a negation of "femininity" is always taken as stepping towards "masculinity") and you wouldn’t be entirely wrong to call me “transmasculine”, though I have been scared to death of being acknowledged as such."

My first encounter with malgendering was when I was 13 and had just started to realize I was "ftm" and looking for community online. My first exposure to any affirmation of transmasculinity was someone I came to respect reblogging a post about how Kill All Men includes trans men. This would set the precedent of the next decade of my life of existing while transmasculine. A decade of only hearing the words "trans men" and "transmasc" used negatively and as the butt of jokes that served to reinforce patriarchal ideas of gender. The consistent and relentless denial of transmasculinity as a unique gender and gendered experience, the denial of transmasculine reality especially in regards to misogyny, and continuous abuse and threats of violence, all under the guise of affirming trans men's genders as men (and affirming the gender binary in the process). A decade of having antitransmasculine sentiment fed to me in every way possible.

For me, the experiences of antitransmasculinity and malgendering from non-transmascs has effectively "chased" me out of my transmasculinity and any acknowledgement of it. For years I have hidden my transmasculinity and presumed "AGAB" out of fear, even in queer and supposedly trans-friendly spaces. I have not been able to associate with any “masculine” language in reference to myself without feeling that I am in imminent danger, have made a grave mistake, and suffocating in anticipation of punishment. I have always been scared of posting any of my art that eludes to my transmasculinity. I have always been terrified of being referred to or perceived as “transmasc”, a “trans man”, of being called a "guy" or “dude” or “bro”, of using "he/him" anywhere. All of it. Deep down on some level I do desire it, but it’s been forbidden and only aggravates existing wounds.

And this, in turn, pushed me out of associating with other transmasculine folks out of fear and internalized antitransmasculinity towards other transmasculine people, isolating me from any community or connection with anyone similar to me, exacerbating my loneliness and alienation as a youth to the point where now as an adult my ‘normal’ human social needs – connection, community, relationships, empathy – are completely broken. I don’t feel loneliness anymore, or the desire to connect to anyone, despite in ways being even more alone now than I was then. In a way I believe antitransmasculinity shaped the path of my schizoidism. Isolating and divorcing me from my transmasculinity and the world at large is what I understand to be yet another point of this type of antitransmasculine rhetoric - because when you've destabilized and isolated someone from their whole sense of self and community, they are much easier to control.

#transandrophobia #antitransmasculinity #transmisandry #malgendering

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lokisgoodgirl · 9 months

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An Offering [Asgard! Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's lack of carnal exploits have caused chaos in Asgard- and something must be done. (w/c 2.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki POV. Smut. Language. Ridiculous lore.

Loki’s eyes scanned the lines on the page, uncrossing his ankles before immediately crossing them again.

He was restless. His manhood twitched as he re-read words he had missed in one endless, sprawling sentence. An annal of the wars of Muselpheim. It was the least erotic tome in his personal collection. These days, it didn’t take much.

He cast a glance out the window, wondering what carnage his unspent power was causing at the present time. Had a ghostly tidal wave risen and washed out the harbour town? A curse which made food taste like ash? An unfamiliar steed trotting through the mountain villages with an insatiable appetite for the bemused inhabitants worldly goods?

Loki didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t want to see anyone.

It was humiliating. His mother’s voice filled his ears against his will, the memory making his ears burn. You must copulate with someone Loki. Anyone; she had said calmly, her cheeks faintly pink. Chaos is building within you, if it is not released...naturally – then your seidr will find a way to expel itself in other ways,’

Loki shook his head, the familiar clench of embarrassment twisting in his stomach. A belch of smoke began twisting skyward in the distance from the market. It was green. He sighed, shutting the book on his lap and placing it to the side of the window-seat. If he concentrated, he could feel magic leaking from his pores like sweat. It bubbled through the air around him, the faint scent of tart spiced lemongrass following him around. Taunting him. Chaos.

And it would only get worse. “What am I to do with you?” he mumbled, staring down at his crotch. It stirred in response.

“Ah, yes, but you see, we want the same thing-” he crooned, as if to a friend. Or indeed, a foe. “The way they talk they would have me thrust you upon any diseased cretin from the alleys by the square.” He looked out the arch, the heavy emerald smog beginning to settle over half of Asgard. “But we are better than that,” he muttered.

A low chorus of coughing had begun to rise and echo around the high towers of the citadel. Loki grimaced. “I do hope it’s not poisonous,” he mumbled to himself.

There was a knock at the door. “Gods…” Loki sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall in frustration. Will they not let me alone.

It had become abundantly clear months ago that taking care of his sexual gratification by hand was not sufficient to quell the tide of magical energy coursing through his veins. Flesh, was what was required. A second heartbeat. An offering of the basest kind.

The instances of chaotic overspill had started small – batches of grain turning to sand, mirrors losing their reflection in the palace; but as the need for release grew, so did his frustration.

There was a reason that his familiar bedfellows had fallen out of favour. He caused too much angst. Too much heartbreak, that much was clear. They were satisfied for a time, but tormented in their limbo for his affection. Or his title. But they could never be her. He could see it in their eyes, the realisation when they felt him leave their cooling beds. It was not their fault.

He could not have her. She did not know or care of his existence, not really. Not outside of his garishly rouged face on a mural. Loki was not interested in breaking hearts. Not anymore. Especially his own. And as time when on, and the leakages grew in strength – people were afraid. There was that, too.

The knock came again. With an exasperated exhale, Loki rose. He crossed the room, smoothing his palms down the front of his tunic. Hooking one thumb in the low slung belt around his hips, he tried his best to look menacing as he opened the door. “What do you-”

The frown of annoyance melted to confusion as he ran his gaze over the waiting form in stunned silence. A woman, her face dipped in a light curtsey. Soft tendrils of hair fell around her collarbone like a nymph. “Your highness.” she spoke, keeping her head down. Loki tilted his head. How curious, he pondered as he reached out and gently tipped the woman’s chin up. His breath hitched at the unexpected sultry darkness of her eyes. Familiar. Impossible. “What are you doing here?” he murmured warily, casting a glance around the otherwise empty corridor. “Don’t you know it is dangerous to-” “May I come in, your highness?” she said softly. Loki frowned at the audacity of her interruption. But there was no hint of fear in her lilt, which he respected – and so the god found himself stepping aside.

The hem of her gown rustled on the stone floor, sweeping in a grand circle as she turned to face him. It was cream, the fastening at her bosom which ran down the centre of its length trimmed in the same dark green as the thick smoke currently blocking out the sun. Loki shivered.

“It has been decided that I am to be an offering,” she said haughtily. Her chin was held high, a beacon of poise and cold elegance. Norns, how Loki wanted to ruin her.

But he wouldn't. He shouldn't. Not her.

He stared back in slack-jawed disbelief, before bursting into laughter. He could feel his stomach clench, the peals of mirth taking a greater hold than the situation deserved. But it had been a while since Loki had laughed, among other things.

“My a-a-apologies,” he gasped, extending a hand to pat down her tangible offence. The lady’s arms had folded, a waft of malice washing over the god like a current. He collected himself, smoothing his hair as she looked on. “It’s not you, you are…” he looked the woman up and down, “lovely. Truly. I just...did not expect my family to stoop so low as to enact a farce such as this.”

The woman began to pace in a wide circle, her finger inspecting the wide wooden curve of his bed-frame. She paused, her chin tilting towards him with a wicked glint in her eye.

“It was my idea, actually” she said, beginning to smile as Loki shuffled where he stood. “Your brother took some convincing, but I think that is only since he had eyes for me himself.”

Loki could not find the words. “The armoury cache has turned to salt, you know” she chirped, smiling while she continued an achingly slow tour of his chambers. Loki groaned inwardly as she peered at the books on the nearest shelf, ghosting a fingertip over the spines.

“You have no idea how difficult it is to get a Prince’s attention,” she hummed. “Especially when he locks himself away and denies the ladies of the court an opportunity to flaunt themselves. Desperate action must be taken,” she purred playfully, the fragrant twinge of stinging sarcasm inflaming Loki’s arousal. Was she jesting? A cruel, elaborate trick? Loki decided he must be dreaming.

He cleared his throat, painfully aware of his cock hardening beneath his trousers. Of all days, why had he chosen the satin?

“You are here of your own free will, then?” he managed to say. She nodded, a closed lipped smile pressing against her cheeks. His eyes were drawn to the heave of her cleavage, rising and falling in anticipation before they rose back to her face. Her lips.

"It is a grave offence to lie to a god of Asgard, my lady" he warned, painfully aware of the slowing breaths making his voice thick. He could feel his tongue move, yet the words seemed to belong to another.

“They say it could be dangerous,” she said matter-of-factly, ignoring his ominous overtones. “-Fucking you, I mean.” Loki stared. He was fully hard now, the urge to free himself and have the woman against the nearest bookcase almost overwhelming. She raised her eyebrows, a mischievous smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. “Personally, I think it’s all rather exciting. Don’t you?” “You’re mad,” Loki mumbled, realising with surprise that he was already halfway across the floor. The woman let out a low tinkling laugh, resting an elbow on the shelf. “You’re one to-” Loki’s lips collided with the siren, crashing against her mouth like a tempest. She parted for him, wild hands twisting in his hair as he pressed her against the wood. Her moans of excitement, her breathy pants into his mouth as he caged her. Loki was undone.

His tongue wrestled hers, hands exploring the curves of her body that bucked against his touch. Meaningless words gasped from his lips as her palm slid harshly against his cock, mastering the slide and squeeze along its length.

“Bold, my Prince-” she teased, as his throat worked in grunts and swallows beneath her touch.

“I take nothing which was not already offered, my lady” he keened, thrusting against her hand. Their lips met again, deep curls of muscle enveloping the other in wet need. “And not all which is offered, either” he groaned against her ear. “Not yet.” The woman chuckled, sliding her hands up the velvet of his tunic. She pushed him lightly, making him stumble back like a feather. The backs of his knees hit the bed, falling and landing on the pristine sheets with a bounce.

“Take it then,” she uttered, laden with ceremony. Her eyes smouldered, wild waves falling around her face. Fingertips worked invisible buttons at the bodice of her dress, the middle section of green parting before she shrugged it from her body. Loki gripped the sheets, thighs trembling. “It is here, for you...my Prince.” Loki wet his lips, hungry eyes staggering up every perfect inch of her naked body. Mapping the trail his fingers would take as he sank into each delicious curve. The god felt his thighs widen, the tight trousers he wore an unbearable constraint. With a flex of his fingers, he was as naked as she. “Norns,” she whispered, her eyes wide. She began to pace towards him, a sudden goddess of love and peace and salvation. “You’re even more beautiful than they say.”

Loki barely heard her, transfixed by the supple legs which now straddled him on the edge of his bed. With a sharp intake of breath he let his hands run over the curve of her ass, squeezing gently. In turn, her fingers wrapped around the root of his cock, tugging as she breathed against his cheek.

“How long I have waited for this,” she murmured softly. Loki groaned. He fell back, bringing her with him in an animalistic kiss. He was being rough, he knew that. But he could barely control the deafening roar of unnatural lust. It flowed from him in waves, a roar of static crisping in the air.

“If you feel you are in danger, leave – immediately,” Loki gasped, throwing his head back with a moan while she ground against him. His mussed hair fanned against the sheets. He could feel the well of magic pulsing inside him with the beat of his cock. Like a drum, louder and louder in his ears. “You need this,” she panted, “we all do.”

Loki was tortuously aware of his manhood dancing at the tight slit of her entrance. He felt as a hound did, told to stay itself before a feast table. She moved it in circles, lapping up her wetness. The god groaned again, lips parted to the ceiling. “For Asgard,” she murmured coyly, before sinking fearlessly onto his cock. The cry which strangled itself from Loki’s throat shook books from the shelves. A ripple reverberated from the bed, making stone from the high arches crumble in dusty clouds.

His eyes flew open, and he knew from the reflection in her own that they were dark as a lemurs. The pupils drowning out any colour in his irises; wide. Wild.

Hands flew to her hips and pushed her down as he thrust up, bottoming out. A ringing cry sounded around his chambers. “Good...girl,” he smouldered darkly, an empty echo of past affairs. “Uhhh...y-yes- good girl.” Loki heard his own voice in singular clarity. As rich and foreboding and potent as a tangled forest by moonlight. There was a squelch as he withdrew, before flipping her over. She lay below him now, her features alight with desire and self-satisfaction. Her pretty moans tickled the air as he filled her sweet little cunt to the hilt. Each slap of his hips scraped the bed further across the floor. Ancient mahogany screeching on rough stone. Had sex always felt this good? Loki couldn’t recall.

All he knew was he needed to fuck to the edge of oblivion. Her fingertips dug into the taut flesh of his ass, pulling him deeper. Loki hissed, curls swinging wild over his brow. Flames nested in the torches hung on the walls snuffed out, plunging the room into inky blackness. All that remained, while the cloud of his unspent lust blocked out the sun, was her body. This temple that would restore him. Loki sucked down, teeth grazing a bruising kiss into her shoulder. “Loki,” she whined, moaning like a whore. “More-” And Loki complied. He hoisted her legs over his shoulders. “My benevolent offering,” he muttered in barbed desire, sliding his wet cock inside her inch by tantalising inch. Loki’s eyes rolled back as he hit bottom. Consecration, surely. The torch flames came roaring back to life, licking the very ceiling above them in a tidal wave of primordial heat. The woman gasped, her pussy tightening. More dust fell from the archways, specks swimming in the air as the god punctuated every thrust with a filthy curse known only to he.

She exploded upwards, hooking her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to hers. Their bodies writhed with devilish rhythm, each fluid buck of Loki’s hips making emerald stars explode in a dreamy haze above their heads before melting to nothing. “I’m close,” she panted, tightening her thighs around his hips. Loki growled, his breathing heavy. He could feel the animal inside him rear. The bull. The wolf. The serpent. Ready to feast upon her pleasure like a wasted demon. He pressed down, tugging her clit with slow, wicked waves of his hips.

With a howl of his name, the woman came undone beneath him; her hair sprawled and spilling over the bed’s edge like a sacrifice. The room began to shake. Or was it the palace? Loki didn’t know. Trinkets fell to the floor, smashing. Crashing sounded from the next room, plates, jars of ink splattered like dried blood on the stone. Ancient tomes thudded with morose cracks, a sound which at any other moment would fill the god with despair. But not at this moment.

Every muscle in his body was tensed, primed to detonate. His balls tightened as they slapped her skin, the thundering surge of magic in his body threatening to burst in uncontrollable chaos.

He couldn’t. It was too much, too dangerous. Suddenly her fingers clasped around his jaw, drawing his gaze to hers. It was dreamy. Happy. It was trusting. And brave. That too.

“My Prince,” she whispered softly; a calm in the storm. “Cum for me.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing becoming steadier. The fingernails of her free hand scratched gently between his shoulder-blades, down the curve of his spine.

Loki savoured the heat of her body beneath his, the unrelenting grip of her channel around the root of the realms woes. She worked him fearlessly, lilting her hips up to meet the base of his cock with rhythmic grace. “For me,” she repeated, before placing a gentle kiss over his parted lips. She sucked the bottom one as it released. Loki’s mind was blinded by light. Shuddering, incapacitating pleasure searing through his body as his world went dark.

Orgasm ripped through him like torn leather; fierce and merciless and raw. It rose in an eruption, consuming and obliterating and remaking him as he spent himself inside her.

A shimmering pulse of power emanated from the bed, spreading and rippling through walls as the whole of Asgard felt the release cascading from his veins. From his cock. An aftershock that would be felt through the realm. The god's face was contorted with pleasure. A thick, shaking gasp of exhausted relief was all he could muster as he collapsed in a heap beside his saviour. Moments passed. But truly, it could have been an age.

“Did I say anything?” he panted, utterly spent. “I just felt...-” “-my name,” you finished, running a hand up his chest.

You dragged your fingernails gently down his stomach, sighing happily as the first licks of sunlight appeared through the clearing smog. “I didn’t know you knew it.” “Of course I do,” he murmured. A veil of sleep began to descend while he inhaled the scent of your sex damp hair. Was this a dream?

If it was, Loki hoped he would never dream another.

He turned to you with a lazy smile, eyelashes heavy with the bliss of it all. He was free. And she was here. Her. You. “I did not think you knew mine," he said quietly, before sleep took him.

Tags

@meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @lokischambermaid @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @multifandom-worlds @morgan-wolf @thenotoriouserg @november-rayne

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki fanfic #loki marvel #loki gif #loki imagine #loki of asgard #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x yn smut #loki x you smut

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soul-controller · 1 month

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Selfish Top Bottom

When it came to distinguishing whether a man was a top or a bottom, there was no way that anyone could look at Ryan Thompson and know that he was an absolute top. With the bulky and imposing physique of a powerlifter and an obscenely large cock that was instantly noticeable that no matter how loose or tight his pants were, the man could absolutely be the perfect individual to represent what a power top was.

Due to living in a relatively small urban town (at least in comparison to a huge city like Los Angeles or New York City), word seemed to travel fast around queer circles to the point where if you didn’t know who Ryan was, you at least knew of his reputation. He was a perpetual manwhore, constantly hooking up with anyone he wanted and discarding them immediately after they fulfilled his needs. Although most people understood that that was just the way that things worked in their community, the same could not be said about Mitchell. Although he had never actually met Ryan or been intimate with him, the young twink knew that it was someone he had no desire of ever interacting with.

However, all of that changed once Mitchell found out that the hunk had hooked up with his best friend Shane and mistreated him once Ryan had came. As Shane recollected how the stud ridiculed the “pale” and “pathetic” man and told him to leave his apartment as soon as possible before threatening to beat his “weak pansy ass” up, Mitchell could only see red at the other man’s behavior. There was certainly no problem with hookup culture if that was how Ryan wanted to live his life, but Mitchell drew the line at blatant disrespect and homophobic rhetoric. So with that in mind, he decided to put a plan into action – one of complete revenge to teach a lesson to the asshole meathead.

To Mitchell’s amusement, it didn’t take much for him to catch Ryan’s eye. All he had to do was show up to the same club where Ryan had met Shane and sneak peeks at the ginger-haired hunk’s beefy body and playfully avert his gaze once Ryan realized that someone was staring. After a good 30 minutes of this back and forth, the beefy stud and twink finally met before heading off to Ryan’s place to “have some fun”.

Once they were walking up the stairs to the apartment, Mitchell wasted no time giving a performance of a lifetime by pretending to be fully infatuated as he felt up the man’s thick muscles and remarked about how hot and sexy the stud was. As a result, the duo couldn’t even make it into the bedroom before they ducked into the first bathroom they saw to get more intimate. Upon undressing himself and helping Ryan take off his clothes as well, Mitchell’s right hand began to traverse down the man’s pectoral shelf and cobblestone abs as he quietly whispered under his breath. As the twink’s dainty fingers finally began to graze along Ryan’s impressive and girthy manhood, Mitchell then grit his teeth and smirked as he forcefully wrapped around the man’s cock and balls and tugged.

The immediate tension caused Ryan to gasp and scream in shock, but rather than intense pain, the tugging was soundtracked by a resounding POP that echoed through the spacious bathroom. As he looked down at himself, a guttural scream escaped his lips as he noticed two things – his crotch was completely flat reminiscent of a Ken doll and Mitchell’s frail hand was still holding onto his real cock and balls.

As Ryan desperately asked what was going on, he watched in pure horror as he watched the man whisper more words under his breath which led to a chain reaction onto his detached genitalia. Before his eyes, his cock and balls were losing its realistic organic composition and shifting to gain an artificial shimmer – his cock was turning into a rubber dildo (with a suction cup even added onto the end to fully seal the deal).

While the hunk was acting absolutely manic at the transformation that had befallen him, Mitchell was completely calm and even joyful as he savored the other’s utter helplessness. Revenge felt oh so sweet… and he still had one more thing planned to make it even sweeter! As he continued to recite the words underneath his breath, the young warlock couldn’t help but smirk as he watched his magic going to work immediately. In an instant, the man’s firm muscular butt had been replaced with an insanely large and flabby ass that would wobble with every step he took.

Despite wanting to wring out the pathetic twink’s neck, Ryan realized that there was something preventing him from either speaking to the man or physically attacking him. So instead, he could only watch in disbelief as the twink cockily stared at the man before turning and exiting the apartment.

Now alone with his new body and desires, Ryan stood at the sink and looked back at the dildo that still hung from a nearby wall. Despite how eager his mind was in regards to getting fucked, the perpetual top had no practice bottoming and thus knew what he needed to do before he got on Grindr and searched for a man to fill his needy hole…

Eager to read more stories like this? Head over to my Patreon to discover tons of hot transformation fiction including monthly mini-stories like this one!

#male transformation #top to bottom #mini-story #toy transformation

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drdemonprince · 19 days

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I really hated being a woman. The incredibly complex, winking social rules of girlishness were impossible for me to keep up with; the cultural obsession with my curves and the assumption that they existed for becoming a mother and feeding an infant made me go to war with my body. I perseverated over my self-image in destructive ways, spent hours bent over the sink picking at pores and lightening my hair. I raised my voice to make it seem more feminine until doing so gave me laryngitis. I practiced swaying my hips and then fumed at the men who noticed. In contrast to all that, becoming a man felt pretty wonderful for a while. After a lifetime of other people projecting assumptions onto me based on a body that I had not chosen, finally I was in control enough to choose something else. Becoming a man, I thought, was the closest thing to being truly seen as gender neutral, since men were the social default. Intellectually I knew that manhood came with its own set of punishing restrictions and damaging hang-ups, but I hadn’t felt them yet. I was too focused on getting free. But then, I started avoiding mirrors. The man on the other side was a perfectly adequate human being, but he always looked dour, and so boring. I hated smiling as him. Tiredness always clouded his eyes. It made me kind of sad to see him, but I could get away with not thinking about it. I didn’t obsess over his appearance the way I had as a girl. I could let a flyaway hair or a cyst on his back just be for days. But I never delighted in seeing him either. When I looked away, and had no confirmation of what he looked like, he became featureless in my mind, and unappealing. In public, my arms and neck felt stiff all the time. I couldn’t walk down the street with ease, or lose myself in my music. I was so conscious of the space that he occupied, hypervigilant against intruding against anyone, and yet insulted when crowds treated me like I was invisible and bumbled into me. My shoulders kissed my ears and my hands and feet felt like solid concrete, too hard to move. I had escaped the dysphoria of being a woman so totally that now I could recognize there was also a dysphoria to being a man. I was suffering from something my friend Jess White had once named bilateral dysphoria, the confusing push-and-pull of being some kind of nonbinary gender in a world with mostly-binary embodiment and presentation options, and almost exclusively binary social scripts.

Full essay is free to read or have narrate to you at drdevonprice.substack.com

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yanderenightmare · 9 months

Note

geto angst please, just being a pouty wreck

Geto Suguru

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, yandere, Geto using the word monkey, reader has no cursed energy

gn reader - fem labels (housewife, concubine)

You slink out of bed when you hear his heavy footsteps approach the locked door. The same book you’ve read about seven times flaps to a close without you bothering to leave any bookmark between the pages. You’ve already read it once since he left in the morning, and you know you’ll just start anew tomorrow, like today and the day before – until he deems it necessary to give you a new one. Not like you would ask.

As usual, he has blood on his face, but you’ve yet to learn not to cringe at the sight. You try your best to avoid wondering whether they had deserved it or not. And then you try your best to convince yourself that they did, but you know better. Suguru isn’t a good man.

You never wonder if it’s his.

You know it’s not.

He wraps long, tired limbs around your smaller body and tugs you close with a deep sigh, his chin resting atop your head.

He’s heavier than usual, you think, as he hugs you for a moment too long, until his large hands drop from your back down to your waist, greedily pulling you close enough to make you lose footing and feel the hard bulge hiding beneath the layers to his yukata brazenly press against you.

You lean off-balance against him while he aims to keep you close enough to grind against, sensing his aggression despite his silence. Your heart flares in fear of it, and you almost forget yourself before you swallow it down.

You’ve learned to cater to him.

“Come~” You say softly instead, holding his sides while looking up at him with a smile. “You’ll feel better after a shower.”

He’s always pouty after a long day, and you’ve learned it’s better not to ask. And if you did, you know the answer would be the same as any other day – he’s been swallowing curses, and now he feels sick.

He lets you guide him towards the bath, somewhat begrudgingly yet halfway convinced by your small hand holding his.

You slip the straps to your nightie off your shoulders and let the flimsy article fall softly to the floor in a pool around your bare feet, yet he makes no effort to copy your moves – standing there as though in wait for you to come and help him.

And you do. Undoing the knots to his attire under his slim, watchful eyes.

He sits down with a thud on the cold slab when he’s naked, promptly pulling you into his lap – his tongue already flat against your collar while his manhood eagerly jumps between you.

“Wait-” You stop him and he halts, his black eyes snapping up to look at you as though you’ve interrupted him in doing something very important.

You stiffen for a moment – your heart rifting with the burn like before, until once again managing to shake it off just the same. You offer him a smile and a tiny nervous laugh.

“Let’s get clean first, okay?”

He only wordlessly sighs in response before leaning back against the cold tiles behind him. And you raise yourself enough to turn the water on.

It’s cold at first, and you gasp with a flinch – nipples hardening.

He doesn’t move – eyes closed, feeling the drops patter against his face, taking the blood stains with them while wetting his hair, making it go slick against his neck and shoulders. He sighs again when the water turns warm – this time in relief.

But still with a heavy head.

He focuses on the doughy fat of your hips and how plush your thighs are on top of him, how you make no attempt at getting away anymore.

Some part of him wants to tell you that being a housewife is too good a task for a monkey like you, but the way your hands start smoothly rubbing soap into his hair, with nails soothingly messaging his scalp, elicits a groan instead.

You’ve become too sweet for him to justify making you cry anymore…

And that’s problematic.

You were a monkey, meant as nothing but a concubine – a pleasure pet he could use to ease the burdens of his day, but for a while now… you’ve become not just an object of lust but, instead… something precious to him.

It’s all so confusing…

You rinse the soap from his long locks and begin doing your own. But a larger hand overlaps yours when you reach for the shampoo bottle.

You look at him through the droplets.

“Let me.” He says firmly, the first words he’s said all day.

You think about telling him how he shouldn’t burden himself with you, but in the end, don’t fight him on it.

His big hands, capable of so much damage, so much death, caress your head and hair – making your breath short. You try and retain your shivering, but there isn’t much use. You swallow thickly, feeling his digits rub your roots, and bow your head. Soap gets in your eyes, but they’re already stinging with fearful tears, so it isn’t much more of a bother.

He lifts your head after rinsing, an easy hand under your chin. There’s only a hairpin’s length from your lips to his. He knows he should kill you to stay true to his beliefs, but he also can’t make sense of what good your death would do – so in order to give you a different practical purpose other than being the one he selfishly loves, he asks instead, “Can I fuck you now?”

You don’t know what to make of his tone. It isn't like him. Whether he’s being cruelly sarcastic or serious, you couldn’t tell. But found it just the same… It didn’t really matter. Your answer wouldn't be any different either way.

“Of course, Geto-sama. I’m sorry for having made you wait.” You apologize – as if you could make him do anything he didn’t want to. “Do you want me to turn around?”

That’s an awful question, he thinks – looking at your pretty face and those reddened eyes that can’t bear to look back at him for too long without blinking away.

“Like this is fine.”

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shaylogic · 10 months

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Queer Experience Watching Barbie - AFAB Masculinity

I started to go into this in tags on another post but I wanted to type this up separately and try to develop my thoughts a little more. . .

Ryan!Ken’s arc in Barbie (2023) has been buzzing in my head for days.

I got fixated on it for a couple of major reasons:

1) We rarely have seen a feminist movie take time to address men with compassion in how patriarchy harms them too.

2) As a trans masc person, I think it hits a specific part of my identity that I don’t consciously let myself think about for too long. Something about being raised in a female world with sisterhood and community. Then being isolated in adult manhood without the tools to prepare you for that. Conscientious of respecting women and being unbothered by feminimity around you, but not knowing your place in the world.

How do I put it?

I know it’s not the direct intention of the film itself, but I’ve seen other trans folks (especially transmasc), reacting similarly to the feeling we get from it.

Ken’s arc feels pretty reminicent of the struggle afab lgbt folks go through when considering masculinity in their identity (butch lesbians, afab nbs, trans men, etc.)

How to make peace with masculine aspects of yourself without losing the women in your life? (One can argue Kate McKinnon’s Weird Barbie has aspects of this as well.)

Of course, then Ken goes off on the adopting patriarchy ride, which IS the point of the movie, and may skew a bit from the transmasc read on it--though I have known a trans guy here and there who avoids being misgendered so hard that they can become somewhat sexist. To which I say: “You don’t need to have a dick to be a man, and you don’t need to BE a dick to be a man.” But I digress.

Something about Ken being comfortable in a woman’s world but not understanding why he’s being shut out from socially bonding with them (in any sense! Romantic, Familial, Platonic Friendship. . .)

The overall theme of the movie for both Barbie and Ken--in an allegory of heavy gender roles harming all--leading them each to have to figure out who they are in themselves, regardless of others. . .

Trans masc folx can relate to both Barbie and Ken’s arcs.

I don’t want to detract from Barbie’s arc being the main point of the movie.

I think the reason why we get hung up on Ryan!Ken’s character is because. . . we’ve related to the Barbie plot in other movies and shows before, thinking back to our “girlhoods” as children.

I have never seen the arc Ken has in this in any other story!!!!

There are some Man Movies that have attempted to discuss the struggle of Being a Man--but they often come off as too dismissive of feminine experiences, and are therefore as offputting to transmasc people as women.

Because of the nature of the two worlds exhibited in this movie, and Ken’s backround in his setting, personality, and purpose in relation to the Barbies, he’s a Man living with Female Socialization, in a Woman’s World; he’s a male character that inherently admires and respects women in his nature (until the real world influence distorts it).

This isn’t a perfect example of a transmasc experience either, but it’s a lot closer than most of us generally get to see! That’s why so many of us are getting caught up in this.

Please, other trans folx (transfems, too!), I really need us to have a discussion about this. What were your experiences and thoughts around this movie?

P.S. Yeah, we kinda get that nonbinary allegory from Allan (not a Ken, not a Barbie, siding with Feminism in the Gender War), but he wasn’t in significant focus of the plot the way Ryan!Ken was. If I try to read into Allan, I don’t have much to work with.

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talaok · 3 months

Note

Hiii! Can I request sub!peter waking u up in the middle of the night very needy? Tnks :)))

Pairing: Sub! Peter Parker x f!reader

warnings: sub! peter, unprotected p in v sex, lots of pet names for spidey, premature ejaculation (kinda), creampie, talk about oral sex (m receiving)

a/n: aaaaa i love sub peter soo much thank you love

At first, you thought it was morning already, you thought the needy kisses on your bare back and his hips grinding onto your ass were nothing more than what it was more mornings than not: the usual way Peter woke you up.

But once you opened up your eyes, once the darkness got the better of your sight, once you watched as no sun shined through the windows, then you realized your mistake

"Baby" you croaked, taking your time turning your head back to him, sleep still fighting to keep you close

"I'm sorry" he mumbled, his lips still busy with your shoulders "I know it's late- I just-I"

His hazel eyes were on you, lust and need fogging them deeply, and his hips hadn't yet stilled, he was grinding his hard cock against your ass like you hadn't just taken care of him a few hours earlier, like a man starved.

"I think I know what the problem is" a soft smirk played on your lips as you finally turned to him

Sleep could wait a few more minutes, you decided, you were never able to resist him when he looked so damn desperate.

"I can feel it" you murmured sultry, his eyes stapled to yours while his hands followed each movement you made, not wanting to lose contact with your skin even for a second.

"what do you need baby?" you spoke once you were before him

"I-I just- I need-"

But your hand had found the bulge in his boxers, and words stopped existing altoughether in Peter's brain

"You need me to take care of you?" you teased, your fingers seeping underneath the waistband.

You swore he was holding his breath.

"'s that it baby?" you murmured, now ghosting his lips "need me to help you out a little, mh?"

The sound- oh the sound he made when your hands found his manhood, when you conceded him just the tinies stroke... oh you could have lived on that sound alone.

"yes" he gulped "p-please I need- I-"

Peter had never been good with words around you so you took his cock out, feeling him twitch in your hand

"I-inside" was all he could whimper "p-please"

You chuckled softly, but still, you did as he wished, draping your leg over him and sliding your panties to the side

"what's got you so worked up honey?" you asked, purring gently against his mouth

"I- I had a dream"

You smiled knowingly as you guided him to your entrance.

"dirty boy" you smirked as he slowly entered you, whimpering and moaning as he shut his eyes

"s-shit- y/n-" he cried, once he was filling you all up "g-god"

"I know" you cooed, stroking the back of his head as he started thrusting sloppily in and out of you "I know baby"

His left hand was pulling down your tank top to get to your boobs, and he let out a desperate moan once he was finally able to have one of your tits in his palm.

"so what was the dream about?" you murmured, fighting your own moans.

His cheeks changed colors, red now adorning them.

"I-"

"no need to be shy now baby" you smiled, feeling his cock hit that spot deep inside you once again

"It was about- y-you"

You grinned widely at that

"'s that so?"

"mh-mh" he nodded, eager to please you

“What about me?” You asked, your fingers playing with his hair just how he liked it

You saw his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly,

"y-you were" he sighed, burying his cock inside up to the hilt "You were g-going down on me" he stuttered, the pleasure he was already lost in only heightening as images from his dream crossed his mind

He whimpered as you clenched around him

"I was sucking your cock?" you taunted, making a soft fuck flee his mouth

"y-yes"

"mh" you smirked, biting your lip "I do really like that" you murmured, mouth to his ear now "I love sucking your cock so much baby"

A choked sound escaped him, and you could only chuckle as you kissed him right below his ear

"gonna remember that when I'm gonna wake you up this morning" you hummed

"y-y/n- f-fuck" he groaned, his thrusts even sloppier now, barely anything more than frantic desperate movements "p-please" he begged "I-I'm not gonna last if y-you"

But you didn't care, you never cared when it was like this, when it was only about him.

"don't wait for me"

"b-but"

"don't worry about me" you whispered, leaving a soft peck on his lips "just be a good boy and cum inside me baby"

Another moan mixed with a whimper and a twitch of his cock was his response

"can you do that for me honey?" you murmured, "can you come deep inside me?"

He was so close it was a miracle he still hadn't come.

His moans were breathless, all resembling your name or various curses, but still, he managed to say

"yes- yes, I ca-"

before he was painting your insides with his seed a moment later.

Your moans mixed with his at the feeling, and his head fell between your shoulder and neck as he cried out your name, his hips working hard to make sure every drop of him was inside you.

You continued drawing gentle patterns in his hair as he regained consciousness and caught his breath.

"thank you" was all he said once he finally raised his head to look at you

You smiled softly

"you don't need to thank me baby" you gave him a quick kiss, his hand going to your waist.

"I- I need to clean you up" he remembered, but you shook your head

"we'll think about that tomorrow, let's go back to sleep now, mh?" you suggested, and by the look of it, he was more than eager to agree.

"mh-mh" he nodded, as he scooted closer to you, his hands around you and your legs around him.

"g'night baby" you siad

"night" he mumbled, already half asleep

But as you both closed your eyes, and you started to get back into sleep's sweet embrace, you couldn't help but chuckle, as, a few moments later, you felt Peter's face nestle right between your breasts, which had apparently been chosen as his pillow for the night

"I love you" was all he was able to mumble, not even giving you time to respond before he was already dead asleep.

"I love you too honey" you said nonetheless, Peter's long breaths filling the darkness as you joined him in his sleep.

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saintgoths · 7 months

Text

☾༺♰༻☽ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni very 18+ - just nasty sex.

includes simon 'ghost' riley, joel miller, levi ackerman, carlos oliveira and will herondale.

feedback/comments would be appreciated :)

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Like the man he is, he would fuck you in a position that asserts his dominance, a possessive grip that puts you in a firm stance telling you that you’re his and no one can fuck you the way he does, with his hand gripped tightly around your hair while he plows into you, forcing you to roll your eyes towards the back of your skull. “Take it,” he grunts and loud you shamefully moaned, “you pretty girl, all ruined and tight for me,” he moaned.

Proud he feels the way your body trembles under his touch, the width of his cock opening your pretty little cunt while the increased wetness inflates around his shaft. “Atta girl,” he groans as the tip of his cock licks against the skin of your cervix, pushing you into an intense high while your knees steeply dig into the sheets of the bed.

Your moans pathetic as you could feel your body weaken as another strong wave of orgasm pushes through you, your nectar spilling all over his bed and cock as you release a loud cry of pleasure as the thick and hot spews of his lewd semen coat your walls, your sensations ecstatic as he finally lets go of your figure and watches it shamelessly pummel against the bed.

“Y’did so well babydoll,” he muttered ere he dragged himself off the bed.

POSITION REFERENCE

JOEL MILLER

He’s so possessive with the way he fucks his girthy cock into you, beastly you feel the arch of his shaft pull forward inside your tight cunt, his loud, prideful of the erotic noises that purrs out of his mouth, while the tightness of your pussy clenches around him swallowing his large size as he loses himself inside of you.

His arms possessive around your body while the balls of his cock wetly slaps against your ass. “You’re such a good girl,” he drooled and in response you release a shameful whimper answering with degrading and shameful words declaring how you’re all his.

“Daddy, daddy!” You wept, over-stimulated by the brute forces of his large shaft beating and possessively marking the balmy and tepid of your cunt.

“There, there,” he whispered, “so good, such a good girl,” he moaned and the second he felt the thermal wetness of his load fill the tight size of your cunt the softness of his lips pressed against your neck leaving a sweet mark of his love.

POSITION REFERENCE

LEVI ACKERMAN

He loves the way his hand perfectly wraps around your breast as you hungrily bounce on his cock, your back pressed against his chest while the juices of your pussy squelches around his shaft, your cunt compact while the veins of his long manhood stroked the walls of your heat.

You bite your lip while the pad of his fingers twirl around your nipples, your breast plump and delicate, fondled by the adept hands of Levi Ackerman, who had been drunk with eroticism, his eyes dark with stimulation with the face of his cock that pummelled against the soft knob of your cunt, you throw your head back, your mouth drooling with piquancy as you had now been capable to speak.

“C-captain!” You moaned, your cries shameless while the arc of his cock hungrily blow and stroke the soft areas of your pussy, he had been focused, with his member that had softly shook in your tight space, one hand above your pearl that had gently whirled, possessive and hoggish with the way your body rolled against his.

“Just like that,” he whispered, “keep going!” He moaned and in obedience you continued to bounce up and down his length, your eyes wet with desirous tears as your body heaved forwards, numb and intoxicated by the member that had filled your heat paired with the sticky cum that had greedily clung onto your walls, feeling the depth of loneliness the second he pulled his cock out, but now his lip had been pressed against your jaw, tender and supple.

POSITION REFERENCE

CARLOS OLIVERIA

With his big and strong arms, he holds you up while fucking his wide cock up your cunt, his shaft easily slipping and sliding and the tip of his member greedily licking the soft lumps of your pussy while you tightly wrap your arms around his shoulders, securing yourself against him while his fingers grip into your skin, “That’s it princess,” he murmurs into your ear while frantically bucking his hips forward searching and sailing for his climax while your sweet cries fill the room.

Your lips tight and eyes white while the head of his shaft lick the coat of your cervix, eager to spill and fill its juices and give into the animalistic nature to breed. “So good for daddy,” he moaned and desperately you nodded your head, and in bold need for his authoritative approval you obeyed every demand that left his tongue, “Say it, say your my princess,” he commanded and frantic you felt your tongue slip out of your mouth as you hopelessly tried to gather the words he imposed from you.

“I’m—” you cried out and before you could finish your sentence a strong shriek was pulled out from your mouth as you could feel his shaft move deeper inside of you, sending you into a bold crying hysteria, how shameless you looked, disoriented and a mess due to his touch. “I’m your princess!” You chanted while you could feel your orgasm explode and spill against the cold floors of your room; and sapped you had fully leaned against Carlos, your arms still hung around him, wasted.

“You feel that?” Carlos hummed as he slowly pulsed in you and weakly you nodded as you had recognised the soft sensation of his fluid filling your wet cunt. “Good girl,” he then kissed your cheek before he rested you against the bed.

POSITION REFERENCE

WILL HERONDALE

He holds onto you so fucking tight, craving and selfish with the way his fingers dig into your skin, so snug, he thought, so supple your cunt had felt around him, how well you had taken his size and how you were just for him, only his, restricted to be shared, he had hated the idea of you being somebody else’s, glad, that the pliable and wetness of your vagina was his to claim and he swore that nothing would take you away from him.

“My love,” he moaned, his hand cupped beneath your knees as your body had bounced against his, your walls had clenched around him, taut and firm and so soothing and narcotic like he was some ill-man, and the feeling of your opiate cunt being the only thing that could cure him, he loved it, and could care less that he moved like a starved man.

Beastly while the nectar from the previous orgasms had melted and thawed with each other and the cloying cries of your over-stimulated moans had been a glacé music to him, he could feel another round of his orgasm build up and with the way you had whimpered to his touch, and with the way your body had twitched under his grope, another ecstatic rush wanted to overcome your petite figure.

“Fuck!” You loudly cried out feeling the face of his cock slickly brush and speck against your spot and once more, your eyes rolled backwards uncaring if anyone in the institute could hear your lewd cries, prideful that you had been ravished by Will Herondale, having his shaft stroke and tinge every good nerve in your pussy while he whispered sweet and amorous words in your ears, talking you into another amative and carnal climax.

POSITION REFERENCE

♆

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faggy--butch · 4 months

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I think that trans men & mascs do directly challenge gender heirarchies by existing. The same as nonbinary people challenge the existance of the gender binary and trans women challenge the idea of people seeking status by transitioning to a "lesser" position, trans men challenge the idea that this heirarchy is static and exclusive and a lot of the assumptions of what it means to belong to a group within this heirarchy. And trans men aren't transitioning to gain status and oftentimes do not gain status in the least, which proves a fallacy in the idea that "man" is a coherent class that universally gains privilage and power and people would only transition to gain that power

This is really well put! The idea that trans men transition to gain status is actually a part of transandrophobia, and butchphobia actually. The butch flight, the lost lesbians, the idea that we're gender traitors, it's terf ideology.

So part of our issue is that we are seen as trying to get one over on people, of gaining male privilege because of course being a man means oppressing other people, masculinity is seen as oppressive, so we are either tryin to escape something or want to hold power over others, while at the same time, in reality, we lose our status as cis women as like, breeders for the next generation of white babies (this is specific to white trans men obviously)

So yeah, we challenge heavily the gender hierarchies, that to be a man means to oppress, and if that's not our manhood, if it's not what we want, then what IS manhood? what does it mean? And that scares people.

I will also say that "woman wanting to become men and taking our place" has already been a fear mongering tactic for YEARS. It started in part when women entered the work force. The "Equal rights equal fights" thing, This is all transandrophoia and butchphobia.

#asks #transandrophobia

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transmascissues · 10 months

Text

building off of this post, people love to say that “trans men want to keep going into in women’s spaces after they transition because they just want to have the best of both worlds!” but in my experience, there are four main reasons that a trans man might use a “women’s space” after they transition:

it’s an important resource that’s being arbitrarily gendered and we need to use it regardless of which gender is “supposed to” be using it.

it’s a public facility where we’d be significantly less safe in the men’s version and we have to choose our safety over our desire to not be misgendered.

it’s a social space that we’ve been in since before we transitioned and we don’t want to suddenly be cut off from our friends and support system.

the trans man in question is multigender and is also a woman, or maintains some other kind of connection to womanhood alongside their manhood.

do any of those sound like “evil men rubbing our dirty little hands together making plans for how we’re going to get male privilege without losing access to women’s spaces” to you? they sure don’t to me!

i think it’s pretty reasonable that we want to transition without losing the ability to access the resources we need, keep ourselves safe, keep up the relationships we’ve built, and express all facets of who we are. all of those are really, like, pretty basic parts of having good life and we shouldn’t be expected to give them up when we transition.

and honestly, if you claim to care about trans people, you should not be so attached to the gendering of these spaces that you’re willing to deny trans men those things for the sake of upholding gender restrictions. anyone who prioritizes the sanctity of gender segregated spaces over the safety, health, and well-being of trans men is a fucking transphobe. (yes, even if you’re trans yourself.)

and that’s what really gets me about all of this — the vehemence with which people are willing to defend those spaces being entirely and inflexibly gendered, despite how enforcement of gendered spaces has hurt trans people time and time again. gendered spaces have literally always been set up in ways that force trans people to break the rules; some trans men might break those rules in ways that don’t make sense to you, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong for us to do so! it just means you might feel weird about it and that’s okay, discomfort won’t kill you.

“but using women’s spaces after transitioning to male defeats the purpose of transitioning! the whole point of transitioning is to be able to live as a man!”

and who are you to tell trans men what the point of our transitions should be? what if the purpose of us transitioning is just to live the happiest and most fulfilled life possible, and forcing ourselves into unsafe spaces or denying ourselves access to important resources or cutting ourselves off from important people in our lives or pushing down the more complex parts of our genders would “defeat the purpose of transitioning” for us? what if being able to go where cis men go is just one part of a much bigger journey, not the end goal?

if you really want to talk about “defeating the purpose,” let’s talk about how policing which gendered spaces trans men can access defeats the purpose of trying to stop cis people from policing which gendered spaces trans people can access, because it allows the policing of trans people in gendered spaces to continue in some form instead of eliminating it altogether. let’s talk about how using “evil men invading women’s spaces” rhetoric against trans men defeats the purpose of trying to stop cis people from using it against trans women, because it allows the rhetoric to continue in some form instead of eliminating it altogether.

the point of saying “let people decide which gendered space is right for them” isn’t to make sure everyone uses the one aligned with their “true gender,” it’s to let people do what’s best for them without punishing them for their choice. sometimes the best choice is one that seems wrong from the outside, and you need to learn to live with that.

i just think we as a community need to be more hostile toward people who think upholding the sanctity of a gendered space is more important than giving trans people the freedom to move through the world without being punished for existing in those gendered spaces. that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous and it’s weird as hell that some of y’all are so comfortable with it being directed at us.

moral of the story: stop giving so much of a shit about where a trans man decides to piss or see a doctor or hang out or whatever else. even if you think he doesn’t belong there, he probably has a good reason to be there anyway, and that reason is frankly none of your damn business.

#im SO tired of this bro #like just shut up why are you so worried about this #i promise the big bad trans men arent here to hurt you. were just living our fucking lives #our mere presence is not a threat to you any more than yours is a threat to us #and even if you dont give a shit about us. this thinking leaves the door wide open for transmisogyny to join the party #so like. if you wont shut up for our sake do it for the trans women&fems who also get fucked over in the end #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #trans men #transmascs

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domreader-headcannon-scenarios · 6 months

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If we're going for requests then I'd love a retake on WHB Satan's "demon energy" scene where he assumes that MC will be submissive but is swiftly corrected when he ends up on his back getting milked and overstimmed because the more energy the human gets the longer they stay alive, right? You might as well take as much as you can when you've got the chance

Yesss!! I actually adore this idea since the devils stop after one session, wouldn’t it so much smarter to milk them for all then can give? It would let you live longer than a few hours!

Also I cant belive I never thought about pre leaking from horns until I played this game!!)

(Imagine the kings not lasting as long as their subordinates<3)

Satan (overstim, milling, horn play (little bit), hair pulling, demon ‘energy’)

To have Satan, a king of Hell feeling you up and kissing you in your best friends room was…odd enough, you didn’t even notice you were on Minhyeok’s bed until Satan’s hands were on either side of your head.

You could feel him grinding against you, his arousal obvious as he growls, grinning down at you. “You look so good beneath me, don’t worry, I’ll take great care of you.” He hissed out. You raised an eyebrow.

Him taking care of you? Oh no no no, he must be mistaken.

You’d have to fix him.

You reach up as if to stroke his face, but reach past him, and grab a handful of his hair and yank down. Satan stiffens and resists only for you to yank harder, forcing his face right against yours. He moans in response, only egging you on.

“No, I’ll be taking care of you, ‘your Majesty’.” You felt his manhood give a clear throb against you. His clothes blocking the appendage from entering you as it’s owner grinds against you. You grab as much of his long hair as you could, twisting it in your hand before yanking with as much force as you humanly could to the side, making Satan lose balance and flop beside you.

You released his hair only to mount him.

“Oh, you’re far more brave than Solo-“ You try to grab his hair again to make him stop, but accidentally grab one of his horns. You on instinct stroke the smooth horn, it’s slick, your hand glides up it with ease. “O-oh! Fuck, like that!”

He bucks up involuntarily and you continue your stroking out of curiosity. He squirms under you, mewling and the second you bring your free hand to his other horn, his eyes close as he bites his lip. You hesitate upon feeling a liquid seeping from his horns.

“Oh shit, are you bleeding?” You ask as you let go of one of his horns to see the liquid was…white/clearish and didn’t gave a scent like blood would.

Satan tried to laugh but it turned to a moan when you leaned over and liked him his horn. It tasted…salty and it made your mouth water. “Oh, it’s what happens when demons enjoy things.” He half heartedly explained. “Ok, t-that’s enough teasing, I’m ready to take control again.” He moans out.

You laugh in response. “Satan, you’re not a king here, this isn’t even your room, I’m in charge here.” You yank his pants and undergarments down enough to free his cock. It stood up excitedly throbbing as pre leaked from the red tip. “So do I need to ingest your cum?”

Satan rolled his hips on instinct and his dick slaps against his stomach. “N-no I mean, it works best if it winds up inside you, or on you.” He shrugged. “Pretty much just let it touch you a-and it helps.” You see him pause for a second before he shouts. “Oh? You wanna dom me? Me!?” He barks out a laugh and gently shoved you.

“Satan, you are mine, I’m going to claim you today.” You purr out. He rolls his eyes but does not make an attempt to slip out from under you. You finally grab his cock, stroking it in tune with his horn, making him twitch his hips forward with every stroke.

Satan moaned in a feeble voice before he’s spilling cum into his out stomach. “J-just like that! F-fuck it feels amazing!” You could practically see hearts in his eyes as he bucks into your hand, he collapses against the bed and lets you stroke him past his orgasm. “I-ooh, hold on, it’s, it needs a few seconds between sessions.”

You didn’t stop or slow down, your strokes didn’t give him a break, instead causing some whimpers to escape him as he tries to wiggle free. “Calm down, I’m just getting the ‘energy’ I need, I mean I’ll be here for a while, right?”

Satan hesitantly stopped squirming, instead just twitching and trembling whenever your strokes get a particularly sensitive point. “T-take all you can, demons have great stamina!” He tried to boast even as you stimulate his cock and horn.

He tries to move you off of him only for your grip on his horn to tighten to a near hypnotizing tightness. You feel the clear liquid oozing from his horns. “Oh you like this?” You yank on his horn to force him to eye level with you. Satan follows your ‘guidance’ without resistance (though judging how sensitive his horns are, this might be as much resistance he can give.)

Satan hissed, making a half attempt to pull away when your nails graze his horns. “You-I-I’m supposed to be helping you!” You nod in acknowledgment.

“You aren’t really good at it. But I am feeling better! Maybe a few more times and I’ll be good!” Your hand sped up on his cock as your other hand clawed his sensitive horn. Satan cried out, bucking up on accident and spurring his next orgasm.

He gave a low growl as his swollen cock flexes a few times and he’s cumming on his own stomach again. This time you release his dick as soon as he’s done, but you move your now free hand to his free horn. “H-hey! Not so rough-“ He yelped upon feeling you claw at both his horns.

He’s whining and trying to get loose enough to give you a kiss, but you hold him down. “They are dense, so I cant cause much damage to them,” You pause getting an admittedly dumb idea. “Actually…if I grind on them, can you still get off to that?”

Satan’s face is deep scarlet but he’s grinning ear to ear. “F-fuck yes,” He pants out. “That sound a-amazing but for now, I need a breather Solomon-“ You rake your nails down both his horns, earning a shocked yelp. To your surprise, he cums yet again, though this time you admittedly start to feel better.

“I can feel the energy. I want more, Satan.” He lets out an exhausted whine, trying to push you away half heartedly. “Or maybe…I should go to your underlings for more.” You pretext to think it over and look him over. “Yeah, you look like you have no energy left, maybe I should get S-“

Right as you let go of him, he pulls you back, growling. “Please, I have plenty more energy to give.” He purrs out, licking the side of your face “and I’ll actually call you by your name.”

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in hell is bad?#nsft #overstim #dom reader #sub satan #sub whb Satan #sub whb #sub what in hell is bad #horn play #horn kink

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