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ca-8 · 1 day

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How the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters Died (head canons)

Alright so I R E A L L Y wanna talk about how I think the Smiling Critters perished in Poppy Playtime

Cw: mentions of (sorta) cannibalism, torture, accidental suicide, self-harm, addiction in terms of The Red Smoke

this is gonna be r e a l l y long, so strap in y'all

. ☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️ .

Bubba Bubbaphant

"I'm Bubba Bubbaphant! ...Hey! I remember you!" "An elephant always remembers!" "Want to know what I remember about you...?" This character is pretty much the nerd emoji of the Smiling Critters. He's really smart, and, as he stated in his cardboard cut-out dialogue, has a really good memory. Although I can't really see that being put into play of his actual death, I can see that this last bit of information he stated (before just spiraling out of control) can be connected to our character. (Our character is an ex-worker and is always greeted with distain by the major antagonists, which leads me to believe that we have actively, or at least indirectly, participated in the child/worker experimentation/conversion based on what Bubba says. Although in his last bit of "dialogue", he's screaming quite loudly as if he was in major agony, but also laughing, as if he was ingesting something that caused great harm to his mentality and body, but since he's had it so many times before to the point where he actively begs to have more, it's agonizing, but also "heavenly." Therefore I think his cause of death would be due to him trying to escape during The Hour of Joy, but was eventually caught by CatNap and his use of The Red Smoke. In the Smiling Critters cartoon, all the critters are struggling to go to sleep because of how scared they were of the storm outside. However, once CatNap enters, they all practically light up with such disturbing happiness. Bubba is the first one to beg him to "help them go to sleep". Fast forward to The Hour of Joy, CatNap must've used his addiction against him to keep him sorta in place so he could kill him.

KickenChicken

"Hey! I'm KickenChicken! Wanna go outside and hang out?" "It's lookin' pretty rad outside!" "I've...never been outside before..." "Will you come with me? I'm scared..." "Here, follow me. I-I'll step out first..." Here, I used to think that he had barricaded himself along with some of the other critters somewhere safe inside the Playcare during The Hour of Joy, and he decided to step outside once all the humans were finally killed. Once he did, CatNap found him and killed him for his disobedience towards his god. But a recent theory sorta convinced me otherwise. I still believe in my own theory, but I also support the fact that KickenChicken could've also been one of the first toys to reach an exit to the outside world. But, once he and the other critter tried to step outside, he got killed by the Prototype.

Picky Piggy

"Hi there! I'm Picky Piggy! Let's eat!" "Roast beef? Delicious!" "Grilled chicken? Down the hatch!" "Seared elephant? Yum!" "Flayed unicorn? Mmm!" "Still hungry... Hey, what do you say you and I be friends?" (This one actually scares the hell out of me, i love it) And it's pretty obvious too, for the most part. I believe that Picky was separated by the other critters during The Hour of Joy, and ended up with nothing to eat for a long time. She ended up wandering aimlessly throughout the factory and eventually came across the corpses of her dead friends. Saddened, but desperate for food, she ate her friends' corpses as soon as she came along them, but all that effort soon went to waste as she eventually died of starvation, a constant theme throughout Poppy Playtime.

Hoppy Hopscotch

"I'm Hoppy Hopscotch! Wanna try hopping to the moon with me?" "On three with me! One... two... three! ...Heh, didn't get very far, did we?" "Again! One, two, three! Nope... still didn't make it." "Listen! This won't stop until we make it to the moon!" "One, two- No, no! Don't look at your feet! None of that matters! Again! Again!" "JUMP! JUUUU-" Yeah this one just makes me really sad, seeing how I think her death most likely would be accidental suicide. In an attempt to escape CatNap or The Prototype or another toy that was hunting them down for food, or maybe just trying to reach somewhere that lead to an exit, she encouraged her friend(s) to jump towards freedom, but due to her impulsive/impatient tendencies, she didn't think it through and ended up falling to her death.

Bobby Bearhug

"Hi! I'm Bobby Bearhug! Wanna know how much I love you?" "I love you to the moooon and back!" "I'm crazy about you." "I'm lost without you." "I've been lost a long time..." "Please, take me with you this time...!" "You won't leave me, will you??" Bobby loves everyone and everything, unconditionally. So, when The Hour of Joy occurred, she naturally felt terrified and wanted to stick close by with her friends as they tried to find a way out of the factory after that day. This might also be in relation to DogDay and Picky as well. DogDay probably shooed them away in attempt to save them from CatNap, and while the massacre occurred, Picky got lost during all the chaos. Them being her friends, she was greatly distraught by this, but soon forced herself to go along with who was left. That was when she probably witness some of their deaths: Bobby being lured by the Red Smoke and eventually killed, Kicken getting killed by either CatNap or The Protoype, Hoppy falling to her death, being scared away by CraftyCorn (I'll get to her later).

"Take me with you this time!" I believe this line was spawned from DogDay's actions. Since he was the leader of their group, she, along with the other critters, looked up to him. Perhaps Bobby believed if he has taken all of them with him, she wouldn't have ended up all alone. She eventually ended up all alone, turned to madness by loneliness as she always thought about the events that made her friends leave her. After a long time of wandering and losing hope, bit by bit as each day passed, she died of starvation.

CraftyCorn

"H-Hi, I'm CraftyCorn. Will you help me with my painting? Pass me the blue, please!" "Thanks! Now, will you give me some red?" "More red, please!" "Out...? But, w-we can't be out." "You're hiding more red from me... I know you are..." "GIVE IT HERE!" "There, now that's much better!" Despite CraftyCorn's established gentle and caring personality, both would be thrown away for the sake of keeping her creative juices flowing. She always loves everything artistic, so she also most likely uses it as a coping mechanism (and that's also seen in the Smiling Critter's cartoon, where CraftyCorn is drawing on multiple pages while still being scared of the storm outside). I believe she also witnessed some of her friends' deaths along with Bobby Bearhug, and, as her way of coping, she just tries drawing and drawing and painting and painting her worries away. But while her urges to cope may last, drawing materials do not for long, and she eventually runs out. This causes her to turn to panic, as she thinks she'll have to finally face reality that her friends are gone, but she's not ready, so she desperately tires to find more art materials, mostly the color red (because that's the most of what she's been seeing since The Hour of Joy). So, in a blind, maddened dismay, she attacks her friends and uses their blood for painting, piling on unimaginable guilt for hurting her friends, the very thing she was trying not to make herself realize.

Now as for her death. Her remaining friend(s) probably ended up leaving her for the sake of their own safety. She doesn't realize this, because again, she's so deep in her own distractions that she's lost touch with reality, until she finally runs out of red again. She desperately tries to find more, but can't extract any from an outside source. So she uses her own blood as paint. She extracts her blood, runs out, extracts again, runs out again, extracts again, runs out again, over and over until she finally harms herself to the point of dying from blood loss.

DogDay

"DogDay says... fetch!" "Go, go! As far as you can!" "Why are you...just standing there?" "You can't be here. You can't stay..." As I said earlier, DogDay must have helped his friends escape from CatNap's hunting ground and the main killing areas during The Hour of Joy. He realizes that CatNap holds a burning rage for him and his friends for not going along with The Prototypes control, and drives them out somewhere where he thinks they'll be safe. But he then told them that he couldn't go with them, because as the leader of the Smiling Critters, and holding a deep love for his friends, he felt the need to sacrifice himself so they can be safe.

Once they were away, he goes and finds CatNap. Since I believe that DogDay was once a worker for Playtime Co., I don't think he remembers his past. Therefore, he truly believes that he is DogDay, and that the Smiling Critters, including CatNap, have been friends for a lifetime. He believes that his friend is still in there, not seeing the fact that CatNap remembers exactly who he is and how he became this way, including why he worships The Prototype. DogDay tries to convince CatNap to remember all the good times they had (even though, with the Big Bodies version of the cast, CatNap was particularly distant from the rest of the Smiling Critters, since I assume they're also workers). Of course, this doesn't work, and CatNap attempts to kill him.

However, I believe that DogDay had escaped and went to look for his friends once he was at a safe distance. But this is FAR after the events of his friends' deaths, so one by one he comes across his friends' corpses, personally seeing the horrors of after The Hour of Joy "I'm...the last of the Smiling Critters...." (what he says before his own death)

After years of losing so much hope, seeing that none of his friends survived the horrors of the factory, DogDay doesn't see the point in trying to escape. If his friends didn't make it, what was the point? And, during his most vulnerable, this is how CatNap eventually ends up finding him. He gained some sick pleasure into see this heretic suffer, but he felt that he needed more misery, by kidnapping him and torturing him by cutting off his legs and feeding them to the mini critters, and stringing him up in the prison where he's slowly eaten by The Prototype's worshippers.

Still, he holds onto what sanity he has left from his interactions with Poppy (who I believe he ran into while he was wandering the Factory), and believed that an angel will bring them salvation.

. ☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️ .

That's about it! Hope you guys enjoyed!!

~ 💜🌙 ~

#the smiling critters #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #headcanons #poppy #dogday #hoppy hopscotch #catnap #bubba bubbaphant #kicken chicken #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #picky piggy #s-m-i-l-e ev-er-y day!#smiling critters

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coffyao · 1 day

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one more time

Summary:

Long-term abstinence has been the best TLC you have ever had after breaking off a turbulent relationship, but as of recently, you have started to crave the feeling of being ruined once again. But since emotional bonds are no longer on the table, perhaps being drained physically will sufficiently do the job…

link to my a03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaloopsyland

I’ve had my terrible share of relationships. They had a few things in common and that was that they all had a handsome face and body, but it was juxtaposed by their horrible personalities and lack of self-control. After the end of my fourth one, the only person I realized who was to blame was myself. I kept coming back to them, hoping that things could be better between us.

Well, that was the optimistic lie I deluded myself with.

If I had to be completely candid, then it would have to be the back-and-forth that I enjoyed every time we argued. It would have been the way he would hurt me with his words but soothe me back to life with the presents he showered me with.

It would have to be the way he would scream at my face, with saliva and all with eyes that fucked every part of my soul.

It excited me because I knew that my body would be in for a rough time.

however, as much as my body felt satisfied, the emotional drawback of all of those relationships inevitably made me leave. The control and the horrific jealousy that came from their hypocritical mouths was something I could no longer take and the damage that I had at the end of it, had to be something I had to fix.

So, I decided to remain celibate for a while. I didn’t count the months or days, so I didn’t remember how long it had been. Then I decided to browse the internet one day. It must have been on a Saturday night; I was wearing a black satin nightie, and I couldn’t stand the quietness in my house.

so, I switched on my television to have ambiance in the background, so I could feel less lonely. I had my laptop on my lap, and I was trying to find ways to get off. Then I came across an advert and being as absent-minded as I was, I ended up clicking on it.

It was an advert for gigolos.

I had never heard of such a thing. But I was curious. So, I scrolled down, and on each page, did it contain profiles of terribly attractive men.

But younger men, to be precise.

But I wasn’t old, so I was truthfully offended that my own algorithm recommended this. But that feeling washed over me quickly when I came across a profile that made every single follicle on my skin stand up. I had to immediately turn my screen brighter.

The first thing that I noticed about his pictures was his green eyes, sharp like emeralds and intimidating like venomous snakes. He certainly wasn’t timid about the assets he had either, as those pictures flaunted the muscles that were underneath his tight, black shirt. His biceps were huge, and the tiny fang that had shown itself when he smiled was a nice touch.

But that wasn’t what convinced me.

What convinced me was the scar that was across his left eye, like it had its own story to tell.

I was intrigued by it.

So, I reached out, and like a starving hyena, he loved that opportunity.

He suggested that we meet at an Italian restaurant since it was the most casual non-casual way of setting up a date. I had no desire to, but he insisted otherwise because he wanted to get to know me first.

But I felt nervous because I could sense what type of person he would be. most likely emotionally unavailable, had a loose tongue, and nothing to show for it except for his amazing body and extraordinarily great skills in bed.

My exact fucking type.

So, I was sitting in my seat and overdressed in my slip midi dress, makeup, and strapped stiletto heels. It was an early evening when it was at its busiest, and I ordered a bottle of pink prosecco, already on my third glass as I awaited his arrival. Many of the people in the restaurant were couples which was hardly a surprise at all, and a perfect way of making sure we blended in with them as well.

I didn’t want anyone to know what kind of relationship we had.

Then he came in. He wore about anyone would expect from a man, which was a black blazer with a slightly opened white shirt and trousers.

But the greatest difference was that they weren’t him.

and he wore it like it was entirely his.

And when he arrogantly stuffed his hands into his trousers and walked like he was the only person in the room, I couldn’t say I hated it.

He then casually sat down on my table, shoulders relaxed, and grabbed his wine glass, gesturing it towards me.

“…Aren’t you going to pour me a drink first?”

I twisted open the prosecco, and vigorously poured the drink into his glass, hoping some of it would spill onto his face.

“Appreciate it.”

He took a sip and placed the glass to the side, leaning forward.

“…So, from the details that you have sent me,” as he kept his voice low, “I understand that you don’t want companionship, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

An emotional connection built overnight meant absolutely nothing if I had to pay my way to see him.

He scoffed sarcastically, keeping his intense gaze on me.

“… so, then it's straight to business huh?”

He snatched the wine glass, and drank the rest of his drink, setting it down and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Because I really did intend on courting you. good conversation and whatnot.”

Not if we are only seeing each other once.

He also had a tactless way of talking to women, saying whatever he wanted and felt. It was evident through his text messages, but it was glaring when they met face-to-face.

But his lack of manners was the least of my concerns.

I shook my head, “…I don’t care for any of that, because it’s fake.”

“…what part of it is fake?”

“You. Your fake. But that’s why I chose you.”

He slowly leaned back on his chair, rubbing his chin in thought before leaning closer and revealing his grin, nonchalant yet with an underlying tone of danger to it.

“…Well, then you would be right. I don’t really give a shit about you.”

Fuck.

“But that’s the unfortunate news neither of us care about. Do you wanna hear somethin better?”

Even though the restaurant was loud, I had a paranoid inkling that someone was listening in to our conversation, a conversation we really shouldn’t be having, so I brought my ear closer to him, so he could say exactly what he needed to say.

“If there’s one thing that I do care about, then it would be making sure I…”

Then, he stopped speaking and pulled away.

“can’t ruin the element of surprise, now, can I?”

He stood up from his seat and snatched the bottle from the table.

“… a bit of that liquor courage just in case,” he murmured and tipped the rest into his mouth.

Fucking cocktease.

Once we started to head towards our hotel room, where the corridors remained quietly vacant, and the moon hit the reflection of the window, I thought a part of me would start feeling regretful.

I was waiting for it to hit me, to convince me that perhaps I wasn’t going about this the right way. it was the reason why I searched up many advice forums, so I could console myself, and reach a place where I could heal.

But it was all a mistake.

And it’s because I wanted to fix myself the only way I knew how.

“…Are you going to open the door, or should I?”

And I didn’t need a gentleman.

“No need, I will,” I said, inserting the key into the lock.

I just wanted an unapologetic waste of space.

I opened the door, and he followed, closing it after me.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pressed a single kiss on my neck, the sharp scent of prosecco stinging my skin.

“…I told you, liquor does wonders to your confidence.”

“But does someone like you even need it? Your ego is plentiful already…”

“…Well, that’s where you’re a little bit off the mark I’m afraid.”

He then starts moving his large hands toward the middle of my dress, using his fingers to fondle the sides of my breasts.

He whispered against my ear.

“...couldn’t be bothered to wear a bra?”

“…wasn’t for you. It was for my comfort.”

A partial lie.

“Ah ah, but I didn’t ask you if it was for me,” he tutted, repeating the continuous motion, his fingers, ever so subtly, brushing my nipples.

“You just assumed I did, how perverted do you think I am?”

“…v-very if you keep touching me like that,” I tried stating calmly, but it was taking every part of me not to helplessly melt into his touch and reduce me into nothing.

“…oh no, I’m just fulfilling your desires.”

He moved his hands toward my straps and forcibly pulled my dress down.

“Every single dirty one.”

I turned around, and he wrapped my hair around his hand, pushing me down until my body was on the ground, the bristly carpet floor rubbing against my knees.

He unzipped his trousers, and immediately pulled down his boxers, revealing his erection.

“here’s your first one. Now come here and suck it.”

As pathetic as I was, I needed to follow his command.

I inched closer and put my hands around his cock, lightly caressing the tip with my fingers, before putting my mouth into it.

“suck it harder.”

“y-yes,” I murmured, using my tongue to suck it as hard as I can, his approving groans encouraging me to go deeper.

“Fuck, that’s the spot…” he muttered to himself, moving his pelvis along to the motion of my mouth, becoming evident that he was coming close.

“…hey, I can come in your mouth, right?” he said, putting his hand on the back of my head, ready to push the moment I uttered a ‘yes.’

And I did. I wanted it in my mouth.

“yes-“

And he pushed my head until my mouth covered most of his shaft, the mix of my saliva and his cum making its way into my throat.

He then pulls my head back, observes the mess he made on my face, and manically grins.

“…you know what you look like?”

“No,” I said, still dazed.

“a fucking whore.”

He started tearing off each piece of his suit, throwing it all by the side and leaving him completely naked, the most prominent features in the pictures that I saw of him being shown to me all at once.

He is the pictures.

“…and do you know what I’m going to do to you now?” as he crouched down to my level.

“no...”

“I’m going to fuck you as hard as I possibly can.”

He suddenly grabbed my inner thighs, pulling me up until I was face-to-face with him, his face inches away from my lips.

I want him to devour me.

Then, he throws me on the bed and climbs on top of me, his hot body against mine.

I couldn’t look at him, as his eyes pierced through my skin, and my vulnerabilities were bare in front of him.

His fingers trailed along my stomach until he reached below, and using his hand, tore away my underwear and inserted two fingers into me.

he wasted no time picking up the pace, as his fingers continuously thrust against my C-spot, whispering obscenities whilst doing so.

“How is your dirty pussy so wet for me?”

And more.

“You just keep sucking me in and in...”

And fuck me more.

“Fuck, I want to make you come so bad.”

Then, I immediately came, the natural high of an orgasm overwhelming me until my body finally became still, that high wearing off.

But I still wanted to continue that high. I wanted it soooo badly.

“... and we aren’t even at the best part,” he said, momentarily getting up to grab a condom from his jacket and ripping it apart with his teeth.

He then went back on top, and he leaned into me, rubbing his cock in between my folds, and pulling it out again, and it drove me fucking crazy.

“Just put it in me already.”

“You want me to?”

Fuck, I really, really hate cockteases.

“...Please.”

“Ah, but I don’t want to.”

But even though he kept shamelessly denying me what I wanted, I found myself wanting to beg him, pacify him, and make myself completely his bitch.

“fuck, toji please!”

“…god I love how pathetic you are.”

“I am, I’m so pathetic,” I repeated, inching myself towards him.

“Damn right you are,” he sneered, as he tortuously pushed in and out, whilst keeping his eyes closed in on me, a mind game that I wanted to desperately win.

“I just need your cock, I need it inside me.”

“you want it that badly huh?”

“I want it, I want it, I want it,” I begged.

“then fucking take it."

Using the full force of his body to completely overwhelm mine into submission, a sensation I couldn’t hide, nor could I escape from.

“You love my cock that much huh?”

And I had to rejoice.

“fuck-fuck-I-do- “as he mercilessly slammed his cock into me over and over, and I became what he wanted me to be; a song that he could play for as long as he wanted.

And he played,

“I love it- I love it - “

And he played,

“Right there- fuck right there - “

And he played,

“Oh god- Oh god- “

And I eventually started to break.

But he wanted to end it in the best possible way.

“-Want me to make you cum?”

And my prayers became true.

But I couldn’t properly communicate my appreciation for those answered prayers, as my voice became hoarse and quivered each time, as he thrusted like he was doing it once more.

So, I nodded, but he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Hah- come on I asked you a fucking question,” grabbing my chin with his hand, tilting it sideways until his lips were against my ear, and he commanded me.

“Hm? are you going to cum for me?”

And another one slipped out of his mouth like it was nothing.

“…are you going to cum for daddy?”

And I had to answer him, despite how close my head came to exploding.

“fuck-yes-i-want-yo-“

And I became numb.

the grip that I had on my voice completely letting go and the painful trembling in between my legs, becoming never-ending.

And he sighed, putting his mouth against mine, savouring the tears that poured down my face as he shoved his tongue.

He eventually pulled away and licked his lips in satisfaction.

Like he’d finally made me into his own.

_____________________________________________________________

#toji smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jjk smut #jjk x reader #smut #jjk fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic

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alliekitaguchi · 8 months

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there is nothing funnier to me than the critical role cast being invited on the WIRED channel, which has over ten million subscribers, and one of the questions being “are sam riegel and liam o’brien dating?”

#AND SAMS ANSWER WAS LITERALLY ‘MAYBE IF WE WERE BOTH SINGLE’#SIR?????#YOU ARE DOING NOTHING TO CONVINCE US OTHERWISE #Sam riegel #liam O’Brien #critical role #1k

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the-busy-ghost · 9 months

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Love that Wilkie Collins apparently kept getting letters from guys who were convinced that Marian Halcombe must have been based on a real woman, begging him to introduce them because they were desperate to marry her

#Look Marian didn't need a man but also good for the girl that gets introduced to us as the ugly sister #And I don't mean in that silly Hollywood 'wears glasses but is otherwise conventionally hot way'#I mean 'there is nothing wrong with this woman but she has features that are still mocked and treated with revulsion in the 21st century #So yeah Marian can get it #Poor Wilkie Collins though like how many times do you have to break the hearts of various Berties and Georges and Neds #Before they understand that this fictional character you created isn't going to marry them #All these dudes totally convinced that he was hiding her somewhere #Not to mention all the exasperated parents in Britain whose sons won't get married because they're pining for a fictional woman #Young Algernon COULD be working hard to get a promotion at the bank but instead he's rereading the woman in white again #Cecil turns down a perfectly good job in Canada because he's president of the West Dulwich branch of the Miss Halcombe fan club #And I realise I sound very dismissive but honestly? Good for these young men as well #The Woman in White

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hella1975 · 1 year

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by pure evil accident taob zuko's current mental state is the exact same as the one ive been stuck in for the past few weeks and that's a bit funny to me. like i started writing this chapter months ago and knew what i was doing with it even longer ago and suddenly ive manifested it into reality. we are both facing the horrors rn

#when the angry character finally learns to acknowledge their rage not as its own problem but as a coping mechanism to the problem #& faces at once the relief of finding the source of all this anger & the horror of realising that the anger itself was never the final boss #and it leaves them in a depressive state where they actually MISS the anger because at least that was active and - in a sense - dignified #whereas this just feels stilted and mopey and like each day is passing and you're losing time doing nothing #but you cant shake it anyway and wow im no longer talking about zuko!!!! we stay embarassing ourselves over taob!!!!#like i realised just now while staring off into space stirring my tea that the reason this particular depressive episode has hit me so hard #(aside the fact it's been a pretty extreme one and my paranoia has rlly flared up to the point ive felt honest to god CRAZY lately haha)#is because it's so DIFFERENT to how i usually respond to feeling like this #like normally my temper gets very quick and i completely isolate and i get mean and sharp #and i convince myself that everyone is out to get me and/or hates me and therefore i must manipulate everyone in my life #and ofc NONE OF THOSE THINGS ARE A GOOD RESPONSE. I AM NOT PROUD OF THEM #THEY ARE ALSO NOT NEARLY AS BAD AS HOW I USED TO BE HENCE I KNOW I AM GETTING BETTER #SLOWLY PAINFULLY WITH MY NAILS DIGGING IN THE DIRT BUT I AM GETTING BETTER ALL THE SAME #but STILL despite how awful those things are they're also very external. like i hurt the people around me in order to protect myself #and there's a dignity to that. there's more control there even if ultimately it's a lack of control causing it #like i have some fucked opinions from my upbringing and ik that like im quite a selfish person and it's bc i was raised to truly believe #that hurting others is always optimal over letting myself be seen as weak. like if my options are to hurt someone even someone i love #or let myself be vulnerable then sometimes i STILL will pick the former (it used to be all the time though <3 progress is progress)#and anger has always been sold to me as a very dignified STRONG emotion and it's how you're SUPPOSED to respond to badness #otherwise you're weak and a baby and pathetic etc etc #and just bc you know something is wrong doesnt mean you didnt internalise the fuck out of it anyway #like i will always see anger as the 'dignified' emotion and unlearning it regardless of that has been one of the hardest things ive done #('wow hella your own journey with mental illness is the literal exact same as taob zuko's-' i will hospitalise the both of us)#whereas currently ive just been sad and pathetic and oversharing to anyone who will listen and desperate for someone to look at me #and be like 'you're not okay' and to fix it FOR ME. like im not ANGRY im SAD and im not used to that response #AND GUESS WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS THIS CHAPTER BY PURE FUCKING COINCIDENCE?? LITERALLY WHAT #like it's been happening for a few chapters that we're finally moving from anger to sadness on my unofficial healing chart #ever since zuko's outburst with hakoda when zi se had that tantrum #but this is the first time we see Sad Coping Mechanism as a response to a problem instead of Angry Coping Mechanism #taob updates

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july-19th-club · 11 months

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spent 44 dollars on archery supplies today and am so so so close to the terrible fear that a Misfortune Will Befall Me because i spent money on something i didn't need like. i will get sick or not sleep or have car trouble or something. because i was frivolous you see. using all my non-considerable willpower to try to convince myself that it's ONLY frivolous if i never use it and i intend to use it because it cost me money and therefore i dont want the purchase to go to waste, which is incentive to make sure i keep practicing my archery (but also, archery is not a Necessary skill and it is an expensive hobby if you don't have equipment to begin with) and so therefore i do deserve to get sick or not sleep or have car trouble. what if i could fix my wretched brain by putting one of my new arrows in my ear and wiggling it around until the misfortune obsessing part is soup

#will not do this obviously #just sick and tired of always being afraid of The Consequences #i always think i cant have fun because of The Consequences. but then i cant stand being bored and strict with myself #so i have fun anyway. and then get exponentially more afraid of The Consequences #you would think the having fun would convince me that there are no consequences. but that is not how it works #very much the opposite #and it seems there's nothing i can do about this but keep trying to convince myself otherwise #but i am very averse to my own arguments. i never believe a thing that guy says unless it's a warning that doom is upon us #my therapist is a nice lady and all but maybe i need to start seeing someone who specializes in ocd type thought #because this shit is obnoxious

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transboykirito · 1 year

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i still hold onto the idea that when kirito has bad nights he’ll either sleep in with suguha or, if minetaka is working, midori. sugu gives the best comforting hugs and midori just has Mom Comfort that makes him feel super safe

#headcanons #yes i still headcanon he calls asuna etc but sometimes she won’t be available #and also kazuto is a mama’s boy and you can’t convince me otherwise #midori would probably pat him on the head and cuddle him and let’s him cry or vent #sugu is slightly more awkward because she doesn’t really know what to do but she cuddles him and he cries a lot #i headcanon kazuto had a lot of nightmares as a kid and used to go sleep in his parents bed a lot #so i imagine the first time after maybe the death gun incident?? when he has a nightmare #he kinda just stumbled down to his parents room and knocked on the door and when he asked midori if he could sleep in her room tonight #she just like. tears up because all these years passed and he still thinks of her as his mom and his support system #and he still needs her. and i feel like she’d get very emotional over that and cuddle him and like. nearly break his rib idk #kirito #sword art online #sao #also this is nothing against his dad i just feel like his dad is very much ‘you’re too old for this shit drink some milk and go back to bed’#y’know?? like. not in a mean way. just a ‘you’re a Man you need to deal with this on your own’ way

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powerseeking · 2 years

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looks at vergil: once you get the power you want what the hell are you going to do?

this man really did not think futher then ‘aquiring power’ once he gets force edge, and when you challenge him on that hes so stubborn about it. because, once he gains power he can do anything ; but what will that ‘anything’ be? destroy hell, destroy the human world? just be the most powerful demon in exsistence? just be able to protect yourself (so you don’t need to depend on others)? because once he gets that, sacrificing everything, he’ll just have nothing. only power, while not truly being human or a demon.

he speaks of might being everything, that without strength you can’t protect anyone OR yourself. so whats the point if in the end of gaining that strength its just empty? you gain it to have truly no purpose for it, to just keep protecting yourself against demons and providing yourself that your not weak or human, but it wouldn’t stop demons coming after you at all though (they’ll just want to seek that power from you) ; he wants it for so many reasons, but in the end those reasonings can just fall apart easily when someone questions or looks past his words (so its no wonder arkham was able to just /manipulate/ him, because hes still such a child; how much trauma and insecurity he truly has. power is the only thing giving him leverage while pushing down and ignoring so many of his emotions.in the end hes just stunting himself, he truly is his own downfall. a selfish man. who is just still running away from his own problems, trying to cover it up with just a lousy bandaid.)

nevermind the fact, as bry says, vergil is just LEECHING off of everyone else power, that if he gets their power he will be stronger, have the power that he wants ; when in reality its not his power to begin with.. (his fathers, the tree, even dantes. until he comes to find and finally discover his own power post dmc5) but looks at dmc3 vergil: you have a long way to go my lad.

#･ †▐░▒ a meek human with to much power in her hands ╱ ooc ･#i might write a proper headcanon post about this #but i think about it a lot #and i enjoy discussing it with bry especially with how the twins are too #especially usually always using his father a as a proxy 'if he was this powerful then i can too' type deal etc.#just in the end hes going to have NOTHING #and its sad but this is why i love vergil and how layered he is but esus christ at all the shit he causes #just because of how stubborn he is #and how thats USED against him #he has a long round to go but it doesn't excuse anything #these boys do not have healthy ways of coping screams #but this man truly does not have an end goal beyond power yells @ him #just the trope of 'you gain everything but now have nothing' i love it so much #which we kinda see in dmc5 until thanks to v - he realises shit even then hes got a long way to go yells #gosh i just love thinking about all this #why dmc3 is one of my fav timeframes for vergil #and looks at all my headcanon/timeline stuff and yells #all these CHANCES HES HAD to maybe consider or think otherwise but hes so adament or convinces himself otherwise #lays down #everythings fine #･ †▐░▒ devil he may be but a heart is still present ; deep down it aches ╱ headcanons ･#ask to tag /

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justxangelxthings · 6 months

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I have this fantasy where a group of men that I trust a lot (friends, coworkers, etc) get me a little tipsy at an otherwise boring party or gathering and convince me to play the "Who is touching you?" game, except they neglect to tell me the rest of the rules until I'm already blindfolded with my hands tied around my back. The rules being, each man will take turns "touching" (kissing, groping, stripping...as far as they want to go), and I must guess who it is while blindfolded. If I guess correctly, they must stop immediately, and pass me to the next person. If I guess incorrectly, they get to continue until they cum, however they want to use me to get off. I am then passed to the next person and they will rejoin the que to go again.

Between the sting of betrayal of abused trust and humiliation of what is happening to me I would have to quickly guess whose turn it was to prevent myself from being raped and abused, but after a wrong guess here that leads to a violent blowjob until I'm choking on cock and sobs and a wrong guess there that has my nipples dripping in cum after a forced tit-fuck, it's so hard to focus and concentrate and answer quickly before things go too far that I make another mistake and there's nothing I can do to stop the mystery predator from putting himself inside me and shoving me full, moving my body up and down with his thrusts as the party watches, finishing his turn deep in my womb before passing me on to the next, woozy and mortified and trembled and in no shape to make any more correct guesses. . .

#things I think about at 8am on a Tuesday 🙈#rough cnc #soft cnc #corruption kink #r4p3b4it #cnc kidnapping #cnc somno #cnc free use #tw free use kink #tw ccnc #mine

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shotmrmiller · 2 months

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pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #cod #cod smut #simon riley x you #simon riley #pornstar!au #simon ghost riley x you

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bananami · 4 months

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A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.

I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.

(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)

"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Yeah Nanamin-"

"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.

"But Yuji calls you that!"

"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.

"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"

"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."

A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.

"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."

"That's not how that works."

"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.

"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.

"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."

Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"

"Itadori. Next question."

"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.

"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"

"She doesn't drink coffee."

"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."

"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."

"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"

"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."

"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"

"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."

Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."

"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.

"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"

"Yuji, that's too easy."

"Yellow."

"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"

"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."

Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"

"Shut up, Gojo."

"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."

"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"

"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."

He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.

Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"

Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"

Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."

Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"

"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"

"Of course you can."

"Can I stay over?"

"If you'd like to."

"Can I pick the movie we watch?"

"Don't push your luck."

#jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami x you #kento nanami #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #papamin

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yandere-daydreams · 3 months

Text

Title: Ferine.

Pairing: Yandere!Toji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Slight Manipulation, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Knotting, Mentions of Blood + Violence, Slight Breeding, and Biting.

Toji was, by far, the largest hybrid you’d ever taken care of.

Which, technically speaking, wasn’t that big of an accomplishment. This was barely your third month at the research facility, and you could count the number of hybrids you’d encountered before being hired here on a single hand. Still, even compared to the other wolves you currently looked after, Toji was beyond impressive. His long, pointed ears and stocky build set him well above six-foot, and even if he’d lacked height, he would’ve been able to make up for it with the planes of sculpted muscle circled around his biceps and thighs, laid over his chest and back. Top it all off with a set of claws each longer than your pointer finger and sharp enough to pierce reinforced steel, and he was practically fit for exhibit. Not that Toji could ever actually be a show dog, no – he’d tear the judges apart before they’d so much as heard his name. He was sweet, but he had a temper. You had to be careful not to set him off.

His fangs were impressive, too – perfectly in-tact despite years of less-than-adequate care, only a touch duller than a real wolf’s. You were careful not to let your hand stray from where it cupped his cheek as you looked for signs of damage or rot only to, of course, come up empty. The longer you spent with him, the more convinced you were that nothing could actually hurt Toji, even if the faded scar stitched into the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.

“All done,” you started, letting go of his cheek. Immediately, Toji’s jaw snapped shut with enough strength to take off a finger, had you given him the chance. “Perfect as always, Toji. I think you might be my best patient.”

A cocky smile found its way to his lips, and you could hear his tail beating lazily against the dirt floor of his enclosure. The facility was committed to replicating the natural environments of their more exotic hybrids as closely as possible, even if Toji claimed he’d trade it all for a punching bag, or better yet, something ‘real’ to dig his teeth into, whatever that meant. “Do I get a treat, doc?”

It was asked playfully, but still, you hummed by way of confirmation, pulling your duffle bag into your lap and fishing Toji’s well-earned rewards – a generic chocolate bar and a can of some painfully acidic, sickeningly sweet brand of soda your hybrid patients couldn’t seem to get enough of. It was a meager prize, but it was as much as you were able to spare considering how strict his caretakers were when it came to his diet. You’d probably save yourself a few dirty looks if you didn’t give him anything at all, but it didn’t feel right to leave him empty-handed.

He accepted your humble offering greedily. While the chocolate bar was stowed away for later consumption, the can was pierced with a clawed thumb and emptied in one long, unpleasantly audible swig. You’d only started to push yourself to your feet when Tojj finished, letting the now empty can fall to the ground before turning his attention back to you. “It hurts my feelings, knowing you’re just gonna run off and put your hands on another animal.” His ear pressed flat against his scalp, as if he was trying (and failing) to feign disappointment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think you didn’t really care about all the time we’ve spent together.”

“You’re not exactly in desperate need of medical attention,” you chided, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “And I’m on a schedule. Not all of us can sit around, grooming ourselves all day.”

That earned a breathy laugh, a coy lilt to his smile. “Well, if you wanted to take a shot at it, I wouldn’t—”

“Save it. I get enough of that with the cats.” Just thinking about it made you grimace. It was one thing to think that Toji might bite you. Knowing Satoru and Suguru – the bonded leopard and panther pair who shared a check-up date with Toji – would insist on licking any exposed skin raw before letting you do your job was a much more tangible reality. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. You’ll be good until then, right?”

“I’m gonna gut those fucking strays.” His answer was blunt, immediate, but he cracked as soon you shot him a purse-lipped frown. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll just rough ‘em up a little – make ‘em regret putting their paws on you, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but soften. Toji was rough around the edges, but he wasn’t a bad dog. He just had a protective streak and that, paired with his brash personality and tendency to bite before he barked, was enough for most people to write him off.

You really did have a long, long list of other appointments you had to get to before the end of the day, but against your better judgement, you paused as you passed him, reaching down to rake your fingers through sleek black hair. He was stoic, especially for a hybrid, but even his cool, dark eyes and wry smile couldn’t hide the way his tail moved just a little faster at the feeling of your nails raking over his scalp, his ears immediately perking up. It only took a second for him to bat your hand away, but you only laughed as you started towards the staff exit, waving to Toji over your shoulder.

Maybe, for his next check-up, you’d see if you could sneak in something special.

“Your mutt’s been unruly, lately.”

You glanced up from your clipboard, turning your full attention to Nanami and quickly finding that he hadn’t paid you the same courtesy. He was one of the senior researchers and, so far, the only one you could stand to be around for any longer than a few minutes. Since the higher-ups expected you to fill out your reports with one hand while you took a four-hundred-pound tiger’s temperature with the other, you tended to camp out in Nanami’s office when you had paperwork to file. “Toji?” Nanami nodded, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m just the vet, Kento. If his handlers aren’t doing their—”

“The problem isn’t his handlers, it’s him.”

His voice was flat, his tone icy. You laid your clipboard over your lap, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s an animal. It’d be more out of character if he didn’t lash out occasionally.”

Nanami opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. After a lengthy pause, he leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand to his temples and massaging absentmindedly. “Do you know why he hasn’t been released back into the wild, yet?”

Obviously. Working with hybrids – let alone exotic hybrids – was dangerous, and your debriefing had drilled the face, name, and background of every animal in the facility into your memory. “He was born in captivity. He’s too acclimated to human society to adjust to the wilderness.”

Nanami pressed his lips into a thin line – an expression you’d learned to read as ‘you’re right, but I’m not going to say that’. Still, a degree of satisfaction accompanied his silent confirmation. “He was found in a dog fighting ring – or, what was left of one, at least. It took three rounds of sedation and two broken muzzles before our recovery team was able to get him under control.”

A knot formed at the base of your throat. Fuck chocolate, Toji deserved a blanket and as many hugs as he would let you give him. “That’s terrible, Kento. Were the organizers arrested?”

“The organizers—” Nanami straightened. “—were found mauled and stuffed into a kennel. Their bodies were so thoroughly mutilated, we had to rely on blood samples to identify them.”

“Wolves aren’t known for attacking unprovoked. It could’ve been another—”

“One of his handlers is currently hospitalized,” Nanami went on, as if you hadn’t cut in. “And two have already turned in their resignations – a resounding fear for their welfare in the workplace, supposedly.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, and that knot in your throat tightened until only the barest whisper could find its way out. “He’s not a bad dog,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “He just— He loses his temper, sometimes. He doesn’t mean to hurt anymore.”

“He’s never tried to hurt you?”

You didn’t have to think before shaking your head. “Never.”

That, of all things, seemed to catch Nanami’s attention. For the first time, his eyes flickered briefly to you before falling back to his desk, his paperwork. “Good,” he said, marking down something on a piece of scrap paper in front of him. If he felt the need to elaborate, he clearly didn’t deem it worth the effort.

Later that day, you were informed that you were being transferred to the reptile wing indefinitely. If you’d been there for a few more months, if you’d had a little more experience to throw around, if you’d had a little more authority, you might’ve protested, but it was all you could do to nod and set to memorizing your new schedule.

It took exactly three weeks for you to see Toji again.

One of his handlers – a woman in her early twenties sporting a pressed scowl and a gauze-padded bandage on her cheek – met you at the facility’s gates and flatly told you that Toji was injured. You’d never been in the facilities (much less with a hybrid) after sundown, and in the simulated wilderness of his enclosure, it was easy to forget that you were never more than twenty feet away from a security camera, that there was only one apex predator you had to be afraid of. After checking your usual meeting spot (clear spot near the center of his enclosure – neutral territory, safe territory) and finding it vacant, you reluctantly stumbled your way to his den, dragging your feet despite the urgency of the situation. Toji wouldn’t deliberately attack you, but any animal could react if provoked. You didn’t want to set him off. More importantly, you didn’t want to prove Nanami right.

You’d never ventured far enough to see his den, but you knew what to expect. A square shell of cement occupied the deepest corner of Toji’s enclosure, bracketed off by a metal door tucked inside of a deep entryway meant to give the illusion of privacy. You approached it slowly, stepping underneath the shadowed overhang with no small amount of caution, but you didn’t get the chance to knock before a hand manifested on your shoulder and shoved you against the cold steel.

Claws bit into to the dip of your shoulder, then your wrist, too, as he caught your hand and shoved it into the small of your back. You felt hot air on the nape of your neck, heard heavy panting laced with the barest trace of a throaty growl, and it took everything you had not to panic, not to struggle, not to give him a reason to dig his teeth into your neck and tear. Toji wasn’t a bad dog, but he was still a dog. He’d still bite, if given an excuse.

“Toji,” you started, slowly, taking care to soften each harsh syllable of his name. “I’m here to help you.”

He didn’t respond, his hold only tightening. His check pressed into your back, and there was a short, airy noise – sniffing, as little as you wanted to put a name to it. “Toji,” you repeated, with more urgency. “I heard you were hurt. Will you let me help you?”

A second passed in silence, then another. Finally, he pulled away from you, releasing your wrist first, then your shoulder. He remained where he was – a little too close, a little too looming – as you shuffled to face him, forcing yourself not to consciously acknowledge that you were in a very big cage with a very poorly behaved animal. His handlers hadn’t mentioned why they’d needed you, but you didn’t have to wonder for very long. Even in the pitch dark, you could see the dark blood covering his jaw, washed over his throat and chest. It was on his hands, too, coating the white bone of his claws, and matted into his dark hair. Your waning self-control faltered then shattered altogether, your hands shooting to his head, his face, searching for bruising or swelling or broken bones, but surprisingly, all your worry earned was an airy laugh. “It’s not mine, doc.” He laid a hand over yours. “I’m doin’ just fine. Even better, now that you’re here.”

But he wasn’t. Twin sets of puncture marks were littered across his throat, his face, his arms. Something had taken a chunk out of his left bicep, and five matching scratch marks had been etched deep into the skin of his chest. The wounds looked feline, but you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on the implications. “You’re hurt,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your hands fell to his shoulders, pushing him downward gently. “I— I’ve got bandages, and sutures—” You let your bag fall from your shoulder to your elbow, already reaching for the zipper. “Find somewhere to sit. We should get you cleaned up before something worse sets in.”

Panic was quickly overshadowing your better judgement, but Toji didn’t move, didn’t look away from you. He was still wearing that coy, sardonic grin – almost teasing, given your anxiety. “I already told you, I’m just fine.” His smile widened, until his pointed fangs caught in the dim light. “I didn’t think you’d actually come. They said I could ask for whatever I wanted, but—” He paused, sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Toji, you’re not making any sense. You need help.” Again, you pushed gently on his shoulders, and again, he didn’t seem to notice. This time, though, he shifted, leaned toward you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You scowled, shoving a little less gently on his chest, but Toji didn’t move. “Toji, please, just let me help—”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You felt his hands on your waist, then your ass. His chest was slotted against yours, and his tongue ran unabashedly over the curve of your neck once, then twice before he went on. “Keep sayin’ my name like that, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Something pressed into your thigh – hot and hard and, like the rest of Toji, fucking huge. Your heart fell into your stomach, the air flooding out of your lungs and leaving you dazed, breathless.

Fuck. Fuck.

You should’ve stuck with the fucking reptiles.

Toji was panting audibly, again; his tongue lapping over your neck, your cheek. You were still cursing yourself for ever applying for this shitty job in the first place when Toji fell to his knees, forcing your thighs onto his shoulders as his claws caught on the fabric of your pants, decimating the thin material in an instant. His teeth tore away your panties just as quickly, leaving you exposed, splayed out on a silver platter in front of him. You reacted reflectively – knotting your fingers in his hair and doing your best to pry him away from you, but your strength was nothing compared to his and in the end, all you earned was a throaty groan, a tight squeeze to your ass before he buried his face in your cunt. His teeth grazed against the tender insides of your thighs, his claws biting into your now-unprotected skin, but the feeling of his tongue laving over the length of your slit replaced every other sensation with pure heat.

Predictably, he was near animalistic – his thick tongue fucking into you as the bridge of his nose ground shamelessly into your clit. From a distance, it would’ve been hard to tell if he was trying to eat you out or eat you alive; every noise he made feral and wet, punctuated with rough growls and little, uncharacteristic whines. It would’ve been impossible not to feel anything, but still, you couldn’t help but hate yourself when it started to feel good. His tongue was thick and textured, long enough to fill your pussy and flexible enough to curl inside of you, abusing the walls of your cunt without mercy. It was difficult to tell how much of the gloss staining his chin and the inside of your thighs was his drool and how much of it was your arousal, but even if your mind was disgusted by every slick noise and sharp flick of his tongue, there was nothing your body could do to block out the sudden pang of heat in your core, to fight the way your legs ached to clench around his head and pull the source of your revulsion that much closer.

“To—Toji, no, st—” you tried to say, like you were scolding a normal dog, like any part of you still thought he was listening. A cracked moan cut you off prematurely, and even if it hadn’t, Toji’s only response was a bruising squeeze to your ass, a low moan just loud enough to reverberate against your sensitive clit. Blinding white flashed across your vision, and before you could stop, before you could bring yourself back from that edge, you were coming undone on his tongue, your hips bucking against his face as he nursed you through your mind-numbing climax. Rather than pull away, he forced his tongue that much deeper into your pussy – taking advantage of your hypersensitivity to drag another unwilling orgasm out of you, then another, until the dried blood smeared across his lips was tacky and dripping onto your skin. He only pulled away when your little, pained sounds began to die into half-choked pleas and your limited strength failed, leaning you limp and boneless on top of him, and even then, he took the time to drag his tongue over your slit, to lap up what would’ve been wasted slick. You would’ve given anything for him to just leave you like that – messy and covered in your own arousal, but unfortunately, Toji had never been a bad dog.

His gaze flitted up to meet yours. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, when he saw the misery knitted into your expression. The broad grin he wore was anything but apologetic, though. “Might’ve gotten carried away after all. Can’t help it – you always come to me, smellin’ like other men, and nobody ever lets me do anything about it.” He nuzzled into the inside of your thigh, nipping at the tender flesh with just enough force to break the skin. There was a tight pinch, of bright spark of pain, but Toji tended to the minimal wound lovingly, running his tongue over the thin stream of blood. “Gonna have you nice n’ scented by the end of the night.” A sharp whimper slipped past your grit teeth as the points of his fangs grazed over your skin, and Toji sighed. “Gonna have you nice n’ bred, too, if you keep making those sounds.”

Bred. Bred. Bred. You turned the offensive word over in your mind, unable to grasp what it possibly could’ve meant, as Toji carefully lowered you onto the ground – never so much as toying with the idea of fucking you into anything other than the cold, raw earth. It wasn’t until his clawed hand fell to the hard, pulsing cock standing stiffly between his legs that you were able to fully process what he’d said, what he was threatening to do to you. Your thoughts went blank, your years of veterinary school and countless hours of animal-handling training and common sense all dissolving into total nonexistence in an instant. It didn’t matter that he was taller than you, stronger than you – you were already throwing your full weight against him, scratching at his chest with your blunt nails, doing everything in your so incredibly limited power just to get away from him. Your latest wave of resistance wasn’t enough to overwhelm him, but it earned a frustrated rumble at the base of his throat, a downward quirk to his cocky smile. Your nails caught one of the puncture marks on his cheek and, reflexively, he straightened his back, brought his hand to his face, left just enough space between your body and his for you to roll onto your chest and scramble desperately towards freedom. You’d barely gotten your knees underneath you when his hand lashed out, catching you by the collar and forcing your cheek into the soil. His chest pressed into your back, his legs caging yours in on either side, and worst of all, his cock throbbed against your ass – somehow, impossibly, harder than it’d been a few seconds ago. You might’ve jotted it down as an impressive display of canine resilience, if you hadn’t felt so desolated.

“Shoulda figured you wouldn’t make this easy on yourself.” His voice was rougher than it had been, but no less self-satisfied. That made sense. Wolves were endurance predators. He would’ve come into this expecting there to be a struggle. “I thought you’d be more of a mate than a bitch, but—” He paused, his mouth settling against the nape of your neck. “—either’s fine by me.”

You clenched your eyes shut. “Please, Toji, don’t do—”

But, it was already too late. He rutted your ass once, then twice, before his tip caught on the entrance to your abused pussy and he was inside of you, fully sheathed without a trace of resistance.

Toji was big, even for a hybrid. He was a hunter, tried and true, all muscle and agility and pure, unfaltering strength. Even with his generous (albeit, unwelcomed) prep, it was all you could do to convince yourself that his cock wouldn’t tear you apart. He was thick enough to press against every soft and sensitive spot inside of you, long enough to leave a tight knot of pressure sitting in the pit of your stomach, and when he started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, the force alone was enough to scatter little black spots in the corner of your vision and leave you hazy, light-headed. The way he was fucking into you didn’t help anything, either. Keening whines slipped out of some deep, feral pocket of his chest as he took advantage of your vulnerable cunt, alternating between grinding into you with a desperate sort of clinginess and trying to bully his way that much deeper with bruising, brutal thrusts. One arm wrapped around your midriff, dragging you even close to him, while a groping hand found the delicate buttons of your top and tore, ridding you of what was left of your protection against him. He kneaded half-consciously at your chest as he fucked into you; his own pleasure suddenly his only priority.

His selfishness should’ve been a welcome change, but you were too far gone, your body too eager to find a silver lining to his rough affection. Your hands clawed mindlessly at the ground as he pumped into you, the heat of his body against yours clouding your senses and making the feeling of cock stretching you open, his dull head pounding against your cervix all the more unbearable. You doubted he’d be able to talk, even if he’d had anything left to say, but he was still vocal enough. Raspy groans and harsh grunts rung distantly in your ears, his calloused hands groping mercilessly at your chest, your stomach, your waist. Finally, his thumb found its way to your neglected clit, and with less than a full second of stimulation, you were buckling into yourself, clamping down around his cock with a fractured whimper. As humiliated as you were, Toji wasn’t far behind. With something between a moan and a howl, he was cumming inside of you – predictably making no attempt to pull out. Something hot and vile flooded into you, but it was hard to focus on that when you could feel something hard and bloated and wrong press into your entrance. Toji’s breath hitched as he forced his knot into your tight cunt, and whatever hope you had for coming out of this unscathed curled up and died inside of you.

You could feel him slacken on top of you. You almost thought he would collapse like that, leave you locked to him and trapped under his weight, but instead, he nuzzled against the crook of your neck, his fangs ghosting over your throat before sinking into the soft flesh just underneath your jugular. He stayed like that, his knot splitting open your pussy and his teeth buried in your neck, until you lost any hope of him ever pulling away.

Exhausted, you shut your eyes, sinking into yourself. You’d been right, in a way. Toji wasn’t a bad dog.

He was just a terrible terrible man.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oneshot #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #toji x reader #yandere toji #fushiguro toji x reader #yandere fushiguro toji #hybrid au

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