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#i could try to reach out more but i don't want to worry anyone and i'm so tired
trashcanalienist · 2 years
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#i lay in bed for hours cradling my bear the one thing that gives me comfort and i think of ends endlessly#i could try to reach out more but i don't want to worry anyone and i'm so tired#what keeps me here? intertia? my family? my friends? my little beast? my boyfriend?#do i deserve those things? if i do do they deserve to lose me? life is only suffering for me but other people seem to be having a grand old#time. having endured so much pain i do not want to ever inflict it on others. but i want to stop hurting. life is a series of decisions and#consequences and then one way or another it's over#radius. you would understand this complicated dilemma of mine. if your robots did not require your sacrifice - if there was no purpose to#your end nor as there never is any purpose to your life...#dear primus sweet helena what of you? if all beauty and curiosity in the world was unattainable and forever beaten out of your desperate#loving fingers#dearest henry if the secrets of the universe were universally denied to you...#i can only ask from you who want to live. because all those who wanted otherwise got exactly that and it seems they would be#and must have been fine with that.#oh chester. ian and dеad and layne and kurt...and i don't want to think about things not known for sure but. god. i am terrified to think#of -- of anything concerning that. he was alone. they all were whether through purposeful isolation or just a few hours and it really#doesn't take all that long. i know this well. i can still taste it. when you dedicate yourself to it suddenly it runs hotter than ever#before. it's...indescribable. life or agony? maybe both. red.#ah what was i saying...#oh yes the middle ground i walk#for that -- is where i sleep. i cannot help but think and think constantly. i fever and rush and howl and cry and feel so much#erik? if you had known that redemption could only come by your own hand but would never make you accepted?#if you knew that that which you have been so denied and that which no human could live without...#hated you so and would never accept you for the beast can never be loved by society even if he stays his place#and you glorious phantom would never be so self-effacing even as you loathe what you are. my friend.#and winslow. what you have been through.#words i speak#phantom musings#nonsense
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batshit-auspol · 5 months
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I really enjoy this blog so much. Gimme your most favorite batshit auspolitics moment from the 2000s to 2010s. please. i am morbidly curious.
2007: The APEC conference, where all global leaders converge in one city to pretend like they're doing things, is to be held in Sydney, Australia. With the war on terror in full swing, security is at a maximum, and large swathes of the city are placed behind a giant multi-layered steel fence to keep the world leaders far away from the unwashed masses.
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Attempting to ward off trouble, organisers of the conference hold a meeting with notorious political comedy prank group "The Chaser", to tell them they are, under absolutely no circumstances getting anywhere near any world leaders, and to not even bother trying.
"The whole perimeter is secure," security forces told them sternly. "The only thing getting through that fence is a motorcade."
24 hours later The Chaser were on their way towards the fence with a motorcade.
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Now a few things should have tipped off security guards that this fake Canadian motorcade was not a the real deal. Number one: Canada wasn't at the conference, number two: no country has actually had security running alongside cars since the 60s, and three: most security guards don't carry video cameras with them or passes that read "this is fake".
Nevertheless the ruse was more successful than anyone had anticipated, and The Chaser team were happily waved into the most secure area on planet earth by police, who informed the incognito comedians that "the road is yours."
Reaching the outside of George Bush's hotel, the pranksters now began to worry that they were never going to be stopped by police and decided to get out of the car and walk back to the fence.
While dressed as Osama Bin Laden.
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At this point all hell broke loose. Snipers were locked on. Confused police scrambled, and immediately arrested the whole group, only breathing a sigh of relief when they saw the words "Chaser" on the fake security passes.
Bizarrely the police opted to give a full escort to the guy dressed in a suit, and allowed the other man cosplaying as the world's most wanted terrorist to just casually walk out on his own before booking him at the perimeter.
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The Chaser team said that while being put in a cell overnight wasn't fun, they were less stressed after police started visiting to ask for photos and signatures.
The prank group were later hauled before the courts and threatened with a massive fine, but the case was eventually dropped after they successfully argued that it's not technically breaking-in if the cops happily wave you into a high security zone.
Needless to say they have changed that law for future APECs.
Making light of the situation, the prank group also returned to the site a few days later dressed as carboard cars, to see just how flimsy a disguise could get past police.
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This time at least, they were not let in.
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - cw: grief Simon Riley/female reader
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"Breathe, honey. Try to take a deep breath for me."
Simon is frantic, cradling your face in his hands, pulling away your own to try to look in your eyes, his own wide with horror, worry.
This isn't fair. This isn't right. This is confusing.
"I- I'm sorry." You sob, because it's the only thing you can say, the only thing he can think of, and he shakes his head like he disagrees with you.
"No, no. Sorry for what?" You can't make it make sense, to him, in your own head, and when you try to talk, nothing comes out but a broken cry. "Shhh. You're alright. Just breathe." He tries to soothe you, and it only makes you cry harder, sob welling in your chest. "Are you hurt?"
"No!" you protest. "No, you didn't... I'm not... I-"
"Okay, okay. Hey, look at me sweetheart. I'm right here, I've got you." He coos, still holding you, wiping your tears, keeping you close. "You're okay." You bury your face in his chest, letting him wrap you up, cuddle you close, all while your mind spins and spirals, heart aching like it's been broken all over again. This wasn't supposed to happen. You're not supposed to feel this way. You're supposed to be happy. Aren't you happy?
"I'm sorry." You whisper when you find your voice, and he hums a raspy rebuttal. "No, I... you don't deserve this, to be saddled with this, a-" A widow, and a baby. An emotional basket case. A burden.
"Stop." He looks down at you with sincerity, severe certainty in his eyes, and you gulp at the intensity, shuddering when his lips graze your skin gently. "I don't deserve you, sweetheart. I know that for sure, but not in the way you're thinking right now. I'm not being saddled with anything."
"You don't understand." You shake your head.
"Then tell me." He encourages. "Tell me. I'll listen." He caresses your cheek, touch gentle and caring, devoted, and you close your eyes.
"Okay."
Simon makes you a cup of tea. When he returns to press it into your hands, you're sitting up in bed, donning one of the t shirts you found on the floor.
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, cocking his head, and you nod bashfully, lip tucked between your teeth. "Looks good on you." You reach for the mug with shaking hands, trying to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. "Take your time." He murmurs. "I'm here. We've got all night." He's not going to want you anymore, once he realizes. Once you tell him how you feel, what you're thinking. You shake the thoughts free, trying to banish them. He said you could tell him. You trust him. You can do this. Just be honest.
"Emmaline's dad died the week we found out we were pregnant." You whisper, unable to look at him. "It was a housing fire, big building. Like this one." You take a sip, watching the way his fingers sit lax in the bed, close enough to touch you, but giving you space. "There was a power surge, or something. Half the city lost electricity and he got called in. It wasn't unusual, he was a Lieutenant, and they're responsible for a crew, a truck. I thought... I thought I'd just go to bed, wake up in the morning, and he'd be there next to me. Like always, on big calls."
"But he wasn't."
"He wasn't. Instead, his Engineer, and his Captain, were at my door with his helmet in their hands." You bite down on your tongue, fruitlessly stalling the tears and the breakdown that's fighting it's way up your throat. "I loved him so much." As soon as you say it, your voice breaks, vision going blurry, and Simon reaches for you, holding your free hand, stroking a thumb across your knuckles. "I haven't been... I haven't been with anyone, since then."
"Oh, sweetheart." You set the tea down on the table next to the bed, pulling air in through your nose as much as you can, trying to regulate your heart rate, your breathing.
"I thought I knew what love was." You whisper, peeking up at him, soft brown eyes watching you patiently. "But this... feels different. It feels like... more. And that... that makes me feel like I'm betraying him. Like I'm dishonoring the love we shared. I feel guilty, and awful, like I'm doing something wrong." You close your eyes, losing your control, your battle, lower lip trembling with a sob. It tumbles out of you, hoarse and raw, everything falling away as you cry. There's a knife, in your chest, in your heart, twisting and sawing and stabbing, and it hurts, it hurts so badly, the sharp ache only soothed when Simon pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, hand smoothing up and down your spine.
"Sh-shhh." He's settled you into his lap completely now, legs and hips and entire body, wrapped up tight, safe and secure. A small amount of tension sags away from your frame, relieved that he's not running, white hot guilt and grief and still burning in the pit of your stomach. "You're not doing anything, anything, wrong, sweetheart." He thumbs at a tear on your cheek. "It's natural to feel grief like this, it's normal. But you're not betraying him, or your marriage. He'll always be a part of you, and Emmaline." He's rocking you, murmuring softly above your ear, and you relax more, letting him calm you, put you back together piece by piece, your tears starting to slow, your chest rising and falling at a more regular pace. "I want to tell you something." He says after a while, once it's been quiet for a few minutes. You nod, trying to encourage him. "My mum is gone." You push off from him, looking up into his eyes. They're sad, and you see grief in them, despair, but also a deep depth of love. "She taught me how to cook, when I was a young lad. Always told me it would come in handy, when I fell in love." He takes a deep breath, burying his face in your neck for a second before coming back up for air. "She never got to see that, me with someone else. In love. And for years, I thought I disappointed her, let her down, even in death."
"Simon." You whisper, heart breaking apart all over again for the pain that's embedded across his face, the torment that bleeds from his expression.
"But, ever since I met you- I've thought, maybe she's lookin' out for me. That she's somewhere, out there, still bein' my mum. Sending me angels." He blinks, lashes wet, the tear that drips down your face mirroring his own. "Sending you, and Emma. And maybe your husband, is doing the same." You close your eyes, remembering the first time you ever saw Simon, on the roof, handsome in the morning light, even though he seemed so exhausted. You remember the way he held Emmaline, the first time he gave her a bottle, your little baby so at home in his giant arms, safe and cuddled against his chest like she just fit there. When he came to your rescue in the park, scary enough to make every scatter but all you felt was safety. The first time he kissed you, on his patio in the snow. And tonight, when he promised to give you everything, when he held you, made love to you, promised to take care of you. Your heart races in your chest, fingers clutching onto him, holding as tight as you can.
"Am I your angel, Simon Riley?" You wondered aloud with wide eyes, leaning into him, nose to nose. He kisses you, face wet with tears, voice hoarse when he answers.
"You're mine, as I'm yours, sweetheart."
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goodbird1 · 3 months
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My firecracker
Alastor x fem reader
Word count: 634
Summary: Charlie learns about Alastor wife.
Warnings: mention of death and murder (please tell me if I miss any)
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Alastor stood on a balcony overlooking the city. The hotel was celebrating for some reason or another he didn't particularly care. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a locket. Unclasping it reveals an image of a woman.
“I thought doing this would make me feel better in some way, or at least dull the pain for the time being” Alastor began, looking down at the locket. “It was foolish of me to think that would happen. It's happening all over again, and I don't think I have a chance to see you again.”
Tears started swelling in his eyes. Quickly pulling out a handkerchief and wiping them away.
“You know I always took you as someone who likes entertainment and parties are pretty entertaining” Charlie said coming out on the balcony.
“Oh I'm just getting some fresh air, it's far too stuffy in there” Alastor replied, shoving the locket back in his coat. Not before Charlie notices.
“What's that?” Charlie said, reaching out.
Instinctively Alastor slapped Charlie's hand away, holding the locket even closer now. Towering over her with a cruel look on his face, he saw the fear in her eyes. Normally he'd relish in it but this was no sight he wanted to see on charlie. Signing he pulled out the locket again shifting it through his fingers.
“My apologies dear,” he said, turning back to the city. “I didn't mean to snap, it's a locket with my wife's photo in it, it's the only thing I have left of her.”
“You never told me you were married,” Charlie said, coming to Alastor's side.
“I don't much like to talk about it” Alastor signed.
“Can I ask, what was she like?” Charlie questioned.
“Oh she was wonderful” He began. “She was a firecracker, always 3 steps ahead of everyone. Beat you in any game and once you thought you had the upper hand she'd pull the rug right out from your feet. She was kind and considerate, and believed in second chances. She'd taught me that. And oh she could sing like an angel. I would play the piano, she would sing and the world would fade away.”
“She sounds amazing, you know maybe if you redeem yourself you can see her again in heaven!”
“Haha oh darling, anybody worth knowing comes down here!” Alastor said between laughs. “She would always tell me she would rather burn in hell with me than sit alone in heaven. Did you know that our fathers decided to put us together to ‘contain our unnatural behavior’? And she came up with a plan to kill both our families and then burn the evidence! Oh it was then I knew she was the one.”
Memories started flooding back when they were both alive and then both died. But this time they didn't hurt so much now.
“What happened to her?” Charlie asked, bring Alastor back to reality.
“The first or the second time?” Alastor joked trying not to spiral.
“Both?” She whispered hesitantly.
“The first time she was in a tree, mistaken for a bird and shot down the fall was what killed her. The second time…” Alastor choked clutching the locket for dear life. Clearing his voice he started again. “Well you don't make it as far as I have without making a few enemies. They sent her back in pieces.”
“That's awful!” Charlie exclaimed.
“No need to worry they won't hurt anyone now.” Signing, he stepped away from the edge. “Come on dear, let's join the party.”
“Hey Al, can I ask one more thing?”
“And what would that be?”
“Do you think she would have liked the hotel?”
Turning fully around to face Charlie. A kind smile across his face with a hand reaching out for her.“Oh she would love it.”
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inkskinned · 9 months
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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luveline · 7 months
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maybe a bombshell!reader where she is OBSESSED with touching and making out with glasses!reid and he is so confused why she is always all over him. i think bc he never went thru that horny teenage phase, or even the "honeymoon" phase of a relationship, he doesnt quite understand why she is acting that way (not that he's complaining)
tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k
There's something soft under Spencer's cheek. His lashes brush against it like the wing of a trapped butterfly as he wakes, his fatigue a weight on his tongue. He wonders where he is for a worrying moment, hand stretched out to feel the couch cushions beneath him. 
The sounds of you reach him from down the hall. The crinkling of your coat set up on a hook near the door, the squeak of your shoes on hardwood, and the familiar lilt of your voice as you sigh, speaking to yourself in quiet tones, "Unlucky." 
He rubs his eyes and sits up. "What's unlucky?" he asks, his throat burning. He must've been sleeping open-mouthed, which is perfect. Attractive, he thinks scathingly. He's less annoyed and more disgusted when he feels the dried drool in the corner of his mouth. 
You don't answer him. Spencer forces his tired eyes to work, sitting up on knees on the couch to try and get a look at you. He can't see into the kitchen from here, to his dismay, but he can hear the contents of your fridge door clinking together. 
You turn the corner with a bottle of water in your hands. When you see him waiting for you your smile bumps up a notch, pretty to cataclysmic, world-ending and life-ruining, all manner of awful as you hurry down the hall in your socks to kiss him. 
Why you'd want to is anyone's guess. He can imagine how he looks, curls matted at the back and frizzy at the sides. Spencer can't help cringing as your fingers weave into the hair at the nape of his neck, your lips a soft pressure against his for a few more blissful seconds. 
You pull back concisely. "You fell asleep?" Your hand comes up, your thumb rubbing gently at his nose bridge. With your other hand, you press the bottle of water to his shoulder. "With your glasses on?" 
He nods in defeat. If he didn't look like a mess, if he hadn't face planted into your fancy couch in his rumpled jeans, even if he were at his best, he's still hopeless, because they messed up his contacts again. You're vocally fond of them even if he hates them. 
"I remember the first time I saw you without them," you say, your kind thumb moving to rub a fond quarter circle into his cheek. "You were," —you steal a kiss, your nose pressed to his, pulling back and pushing in between words— "chasing the tail of that movie star." Kiss, kiss. He loses his grip on the water in favour of your arm. "You looked," —your kisses turn melty warm and impossibly softer— "so, so shy." 
You pull away to card his hair back. Not particularly gentle but never cruel, you rake his curls out of his face swiftly. "How come you never get shy with me?" 
"Don't pretend I never did," he says. It's embarrassing but it happened. 
"Fine, you did." You tuck his hair behind his ears. "Not as often as everyone thought you would." 
"You were kidding. Or, I confidently thought you were kidding. I could write it off as a joke, pity–" 
His timidity with you rose and fell and rose again. These days it simmers, waiting for you to surprise him or tease him or do as you're doing now, rounding the couch to push at him until he sits. You ease into his lap, mostly off of him, a knee to his right and a knee between his legs as your arms circle his back. He's quick to hug you rather than have you slip backward out of his arms. 
"I never pitied you," you say, kissing him again, no signs of stopping. "Don't say that. It's not true. I saw you were a catch before anyone else did, that's all." 
Spencer can't argue with you. He's honestly not interested, distracted by your weight and the heat of your lips as they part against his. To go back and tell the Spencer from a year ago that his bombshell of a coworker, the one who flirts with a sticky charmed smile, who sits on the lip of his desk making eyes at him, and who never takes the easy blows, wasn't joking? It would stunt his brain. It might send him into a cardiac episode. 
To tell him that she's in his lap more often than not? 
Spencer's lucky to be alive. He laughs as he thinks it, his stomach stirring while you scratch carefully at his scalp.
"What?" you ask, voice a stretched murmur, close enough to husky to wind him. "Tickles?" 
"No," he says, "nothing, it's nice." 
He's greedy and a total amateur, pulling your face back down to his in hopes of sparking another heavy kiss. You're enticed for a bit, but Spencer knows his laugh is bothering you, so he steals a last rough kiss before dropping his forehead into your cheek. 
You pet his neck softly. "What, Spence?" 
"It's just unreal, sometimes. It's weird." He can't hide, his glasses jabbing into his eye.
When he lifts his head, you breathe out a laugh and take the glasses from his nose. You fold them, set them carefully on the couch beside you, and meet his gaze fondly. Your lashes kiss in the corners with your smile, pretty lips a balmed pout. He can feel the waxy transfer your kisses have left on his own lips and the skin around them. You're enthusiastic. 
"What's weird?" you ask. 
"How much you like me." 
"Have you ever heard of the honeymoon phase?" 
"The romance feeling very intense at the start of a relationship until we're used to one another," he answers. 
"Right. Well, I'm used to you. I intend on honeymooning with you until you die. And you're in your prime, sweetheart, so…" You lean in with your head tilted heavily to the side, pausing with your lips only just touching his. "You'll have to get used to it," you whisper, waiting. 
Spencer kisses upward slowly. You sigh into his mouth, double when he paws at the small of your back and squeezes you close to his chest, thankful you took off his glasses. 
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halfagone · 2 months
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One of the things I love the most about AUs where Danny moves to Gotham City is how easily he fits in. There are AUs where Danny makes a statement and gets noticed for the great guy he is and I enjoy those too, but I love the AUs where Danny fits in as if he's always been here. Where he doesn't stand out, doesn't make a statement.
There is something so quietly compelling about this transition in Danny's life. Danny has always stood out in a negative way. His parents are the town hacks, his sister is a genius that he'll never compare to. Friends who create rallies for their respective causes and actually makes people listen. Even amongst the outsiders, Danny sticks out like a sore thumb.
Danny likes Paulina because it's safe. Anyone would have a crush on the most popular girl in school. That's expected, that's normal. Of course he wants to be popular, what kid doesn't want to be popular?
The A-Listers stand out, not because they're particularly special, but because everyone else has set the standard that only they can reach. They present these kids as what every student should be, and everyone else is just failing to reach their level.
Danny has always striven for normalcy but the only way to achieve it is to fundamentally change who he is and he can't. No matter how hard he tries he can't be that person. He can try, and god has he tried, but he can't change who he is.
And then Danny moves to Gotham.
You can use all sorts of reasons for the move. Maybe this is a scenario where a reveal goes sideways and Danny has to flee. Maybe he has a bad breakup and he wants a fresh start. Maybe he's going to college out-of-state. Maybe he received a promotion at work and his boss wants him to manage the new Gotham branch.
No matter what reason you use, it all leads back to square one. Danny is in a city where he hardly knows anyone, but has heard all the horror stories for. The crime here is nothing like he's ever experienced before. At least with the ghosts, Danny knew they were coming thanks to his ghost sense. He doesn't always get the same courtesy with Arkham breakouts.
But he adapts. It's his specialty. He adapts to new powers and new enemies all the time, he can adapt here too. Human crime might not be his specialty but he knows how to protect himself. And for once he doesn't stand out for it.
Danny is paranoid and hypervigilant? Don't worry, most people here are. They have to be. Danny has scars on his knuckles from fighting ghosts? That's not the mark of a troublemaker, that's the mark of a survivor. Danny keeps a metal baseball bat by his front door? Okay, maybe that's a little strange; most people keep their weapons by their bed.
The point is that all these habits ingrained in Danny's psyche aren't out of place in Gotham. Here, no one thinks strangely of his behavior because they've all developed habits to help them survive. There is a different normal here in Gotham, a different standard, and for once Danny can reach it.
For once Danny is normal and he didn't have to change himself in any way to achieve it. It's proof that there was never anything wrong with him. He just didn't fit in with Amity Park anymore, but there is a place out there where he can.
Gotham City might not have been the home he grew up in, but it's accepted him more than the one he left behind. On the outside, this community might seem rough and harsh and brutal. But these people understand Danny better than anyone else could, because they know what it feels like to fight every day just to survive.
And I think there's something so cathartic about leaving one home, and all the fears that come with that, only to find a better one you never thought you could have.
I don't know. It's just so personal to me.
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lazycats-stuff · 2 months
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Please write Damian x friend reader who's really shy, and they have to make a school project together, and they do so at the manor, but because the reader is shy he doesn't want to meet the family. The family (to annoy damian) want to meet this friends, but Damian actually likes the reader and tries to protect him from his brother's
Hell yes. Oh I love this. The fam would do this. Alfred would be stopping them. I don't know why, but this gif is really adorable to me.
Summary: Damian has a crush and the boys decide to annoy them
Warnings: fluff, angst?, Damian comes out to Bruce and Alfred, shy reader... Mostly fluff though.
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Damian Wayne, the son of Batman has a crush on his classmate. Yes, you read it correctly. Damian has a crush on (Y/N) (L/N), a shy boy in his class. Damian thought he was adorable and his shyness made him even more cute to Damian, but Damian knew for a fact that he didn't have a chance with (Y/N).
Anyone who dates a Wayne, will be in the spotlight. And being in high school doesn't make it any better. The pressures and the fact that the girls and some guys were throwing themselves at him and for that, he only got his reputation as cold, not interested in anyone.
That made it much more difficult to even think about approaching (Y/N).
And the fact he was suffering alone made it painful. He didn't tell his family, knowing that they would push him to talk to him, but they wouldn't understand the situation that Damian is in. For Damian, (Y/N) is something that is both within his reach and yet so far, far away.
Damian has come to terms with the fact that he will never be able to be with (Y/N). If only he knew about (Y/N)'s feelings...
But fate has some other plans. During a biology class, the teacher announced that he will pair the kids to make a project. Damian dreaded it because there are two bad outcomes that could come out of it.
One is that he ends up with a person who wouldn't do anything and would just use it for bragging rights and would annoy him to no end. It would be awful and Damian would have to control himself to not kill someone and not to cause a scene.
And the second one is the fact that there is a chance that he will be paired up with (Y/N). That wasn't bad per say, not at all, not by any means. But... The mere fact that he would be paired with his crush wouldn't be easy, not even for Damian. He may have a lot self control, but with (Y/N)...
Damian remained calm when he was paired with (Y/N). Only externally. Internally? He was screaming. How does he even approach him? How in the hell? Okay... Try to be nice...
Damian rubbed his lips, trying to remain calm and devise a plan. Approach him when everyone leaves the classroom. Then tell him and give him phone number so they can contact one another... Okay... That's the first two steps.
Wait... What about his family? Oh no... Well, that's a thing to worry about later.
Damian took a deep breath as he approached (Y/N). (Y/N) blushed already and look at Damian with an uneasy smile. " Hi Damian. "
" Hey (Y/N). Can you give me your number so that I can text you the time and we can contact each other. " Damian said as he took his phone out, allowing (Y/N) to put his phone number in. (Y/N) did just that, ever so nervously.
Damian watched in silence, waiting patiently. After that, (Y/N) quietly mumbled see you later and left. Damian followed him, but in a much slower pace. He walked to his own locker, getting his stuff and leaving the school quickly, going to the car to let Alfred drive him away.
During the drive, Alfred noticed that Damian was bothered by something, but he knew that asking was going to be like pulling teeth. Painful and no one would even bother to do it, but Damian wasn't an average person nor a child.
So all in all, it will be a painful conversation, no matter how they turn it.
" Damian, can we talk? " Bruce asked as he sat down next to him on the couch, Alfred setting down the tea for the three of them.
" About what? " Damian asked as he put a book down on the coffee table. Bruce and Alfred got ready for this. Alfred sat down next to Damian, but not too close, just keeping some space in between the two.
" Something is bothering you and we want to know what's going on. " Bruce has started gently and Damian's internal guard went up quickly. They clearly don't know what, but... How will his father react about hearing that he is gay? Oh God...
" Nothing is bothering me. " Damian lied quickly, but Bruce saw right through it.
" You can always talk to us Damian.. You can always come to me, I will never judge you. " Bruce said softly and Damian had to take a very deep breath to stay calm...
Is he really going to come out now?
" It's... " Damian started, clearly out of his comfort zone. " I have a crush... "
Bruce and Alfred smiled. Damian is in love. " And what's her name? " Alfred asked.
And here it is.
" It's his. It's (Y/N). " Damian said quietly, getting ready for rejection.
There was silence for a couple of moments before Bruce hugged Damian tightly. Damian was shocked at that, more so when Alfred hugged him too, but he didn't question it by any means. He hugged Bruce back tightly.
" Please don't tell me that you think we were going to reject you master Damian. " Alfred said from behind, still hugging his grandson.
" Oh Damian... " Bruce said quietly, making sure to squeeze Damian tightly. " I would never judge you for being gay. You are my son and I won't love you any less. " Bruce says softly, rocking his son a bit to calm him down.
Damian nodded, hiding his face, not wanting these tears to fall down. He didn't want them to be seen.
And the time has finally come. (Y/N) has arrived into the manor and Bruce made sure to tell his other sons to stay clear and away from the library today. He said a few warnings and the other three seemed to listen.
Again, seemed.
The project was going well. Damian has been calmer and (Y/N) has been quiet, but was working hard to make it the best project ever. Damian was impressed by that and more impressed that his brother's weren't bothering him or (Y/N). But there was a bad feeling in the back of Damian's mind.
Something was going to happen.
And Damian isn't liking this at all.
And he was right. After an hour, Jason popped his head in. Damian whipped his head around so quickly that (Y/N) thought he got whiplash. (Y/N) blushed slightly at the sight of Jason who had a smirk on his face.
Damian got up quickly. No. This is not going to happen.
" Out Todd. " Damian said as he walked up to him and started pushing him out.
" Oh come on, I just want to meet you frie-" Jason was cut off with the door slamming in his face. He smirked at the sight of the barely controlled anger from Damian.
Oh he loves to push those buttons.
Damian took a deep breath and turned to (Y/N) with a small smile. " My apologies (Y/N), Todd is annoying and he loves to push my buttons. " Damian said as he sat back down and (Y/N) nodded with a small smile.
" It's okay, siblings are annoying. " (Y/N) said quietly.
" Do you have one? " Damian asked as he moved a notebook out of the way.
" A single child, I'm afraid. " (Y/N) said and Damian nodded.
And everything was fine. Until one hour later.
Now Tim popped his head in and Damian was going to kill him.
" Out Drake. " Damian said as he quickly stood up and started pushing him out, still calm, trying to not scare (Y/N), who just watched in silence and wonder.
" Oh Damian, " Tim started, but Damian just threw him out and slammed the door. (Y/N) raised his brow, curious, but to hesitant to ask.
" Again, my apologies, they are just annoying. " Damian said yet again and sat back down, getting focused to continue working on the project.
The silence was nice and comfortable and the library was just peaceful.
That was until the doors opened for the 3rd time and Damian stood up quickly, pushing out Dick into the hallway, closing the door.
" What the hell is wrong with you three?! " Damian whispered yelled and Dick sheepishly smiled.
" I just wanted to check on you two, to see if you need any help. " Dick said quietly.
" Sure. Make sure that these two don't come by again. " Damian said coldly and went back inside, clearly annoyed, trying to calm himself. But the moment he set his eyes on (Y/N), he was calmer and less annoyed.
" Sorry, another brother is annoying today. " Damian said, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm down.
" Are they always like this? " (Y/N) asked softly and Damian nodded.
" I'm afraid so. " Damian said, glaring at the door for a second before he focused back onto the project.
After some times, they have actually managed to finish it. Damian was happy, but then this means that hanging out with (Y/N) is over. After this, they probably won't ever talk.
But Damian just couldn't let it go. He had to confess.
He had to.
But is he brave enough? Maybe.
" (Y/N)? Before you go, I need to tell you something. " Damian said once they were outside.
(Y/N) nodded and waited for Damian to speak.
" I... I like you. A lot... And... You are allow to say no, but do you want to go out with me? " Damian asked softly.
(Y/N) was outright speechless. Damian felt the same way? This had to be a dream...
" I would love to. " (Y/N) said, blushing like mad and rubbing the back of his neck.
" I'll text you the plans later. We can go tomorrow. " Damian said and Alfred got the car ready to drive (Y/N) back to his home. After (Y/N) and Alfred left, Damian slowly turned to his brothers who were eaves dropping.
" You 3 have 5 seconds to run before I get you. " Damian said coldly and the three quickly ran. Damian chased after Jason.
Bruce simply sipped his coffee. It's not worth his nerves. Or annoyance. Or even the agitation.
Bruce sigh. Just let it be.
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suashii · 1 year
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୨♡୧ GOT ME LOOKING FOR ATTENTION! — how they react to you being needy.
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featuring. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, barou shoei.
warnings. f!reader, f!masturbation, dacryphilia, marking, pet names (pretty lady, good girl). all characters written 18+.
note! it's my first time writing barou so please be kind! enjoy (≧∀≦)
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₊˚ପ⊹ ITOSHI RIN
it's a day before rin was expected to return home and instead of telling you about his early arrival, he figured he'd try to surprise you. though, when he opens the door to the apartment, you aren't at your usual spot on the couch. he worries that you might not be home, until he hears it—a pitchy whine coming from down the hall. he follows the sound that leads him to the bedroom where the door is slightly ajar, enough for the moans to spill from the gap.
rin pushes the door open with his foot, revealing your figure on the bed. it's a lewd sight; on your knees with your legs spread, fingers stuffed in your dripping cunt in a chase for that sweet spot you can't quite reach. still, you pump them with fervor in search of blissful relief. it takes a moment for you to notice the man's presence and turn to him with teary eyes.
a gasp catches in your throat at the late recognition. your call of his name comes out wobbly. "rin?"
a tear falls past your lashes as you blink, rolls down your cheek and drips from your jawline. rin thinks it must be a little fucked up that seeing you in such a state turns him on. it makes his pants feel tighter, lights glowing embers beneath his skin. he figures that, maybe, he should inquire about the watery look in your eyes.
"why are you crying?"
"it's not the same," you reveal, turning your gaze down. you chew at the inside of you cheek, contemplating on if you should elaborate. though, when you drag your eyes back up, it's like his teal stare compels you to continue. "y'know... as when you do it."
rin didn't think his ego could get any bigger but you have a knack for feeding it. the confession goes straight to his dick and as much as he'd love to sit and savor your helplessness for just a little longer, there's a way address both your needs while still having a bit of fun with you.
"i'm here now," rin tells you, closing the distance between you. he wipes another stray tear from your cheek. "so, why don't you ask for my help?"
₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU RYUSEI
your breath tickles shidou's collarbone as you let out yet another discontent sigh that borders a whimper. with a drink in one hand and the other settled on your waist, shidou glances down at you. it's a rare sight to see you so clingy; usually he's the one sticking to you like glue. but now, there's a sparkle of want in your eyes as you toy with the buttons of his shirt, fingers threatening to unfasten them.
"a little touchy there, huh?" shidou says with a grin. he wouldn't mind putting a little bit of his naked chest on display but it's unlike you be so forward at events like these—ones where anyone can see. "thought you preferred when we maintained decorum at these types of things."
"you know i don't want to be here," you respond, a soft pout punctuating your words.
oh, does he know. you'd been even more touchy while the two of you were getting ready earlier. the length of your nails grazed the curves of his abdomen as you straddled him, your clothed cunt hovering just above the growing tent in his boxers. leaving a wet kiss on the pulse of his neck, you rolled your hips, grinding down on his bulge. releasing the lip you had pulled between your teeth, a tempting offer fell from your lips. "can't we just forget about this one? i think we'd have more fun here anyway."
if weren't for his manager warning him that another absence would be the woman's last straw, shidou would have given in and stayed home to please your every desire—lapped and slurped at you until you came on his tongue and fucked you until you did the same around his cock.
though, in an effort to stop himself from burning any more bridges in the industry, he chose to attend with a needy girlfriend and a painfully hard cock.
lifting his glass, fuchsia eyes flit to the watch wrapped around his wrist.
"twenty more minutes, pretty lady." shidou dips his head down so his lips are ghosting yours. the airiness of his voice sends shivers down your spine, causes goosebumps to raise on your arms. "and i'll be happy to take care of you."
₊˚ପ⊹ NAGI SEISHIRO
nagi isn't usually distracted so easily when he's playing games. he pays his phone little mind, so much so that people begin to worry when he doesn't text back after a couple of hours. sometimes he's focused to the extent that he forgets to eat until he can hear his stomach growling.
the one exception and his favorite distraction is you.
he doesn't mind when you shimmy your way between him and his controller, latching onto him like a clingy koala bear. he'll rest his chin on the top your head and let you be. that much was meant to be the plan today when you took your place on his lap but you seemed to have something else in mind if the kisses you left trailing up his neck were any evidence.
they were easy enough to ignore at first but the soft feel of your lips against his skin eventually turned into wet, open-mouthed kisses—the kind where you suck and nip at him. each bruising kiss you leave behind chips away at nagi's focus. though, much to your dismay, his caramel eyes stay glued to the screen ahead of him.
you were almost sure he would have given in by now, picked up on the heavy hints you were so clearly dropping. you suppose his cluelessness is one of his many charms and you certainly don't mind having to speak up if it get you what you want.
"sei," you draw out the syllable, curling your fingers around the wisps of snowy hair at the nape of his neck, "wouldn't you rather play with me?"
the purr of your voice and the implication behind your words makes him still for a moment, long enough for little health his character had to dwindle, prompting the game over screen. he doesn't seem to see his failure and if he does he's made it apparent that he doesn't care.
finally, you're the focus of his gaze. nagi abandons the controller in favor resting his hands on your hips. his hold on you is firm and when you meet his eye, you can feel your heart jump in your chest. it isn't so often that you witness this side of him—the one where he greed is palpable. that and his next words light a flame within you.
"what did you have in mind?"
₊˚ପ⊹ BAROU SHOEI
there's something endearing, captivating, about watching barou practice. his moves are fluid yet forceful and they can't help but remind you of another activity that you'd describe the same way. it's even more difficult to not make the connection as you watch his chest heave and beads of sweat drip down from his hairline.
the image makes your mind wander to thoughts of you beneath him, mouth open wide and nails running down his back as he pounds into you, hitting that sensitive spot he's sure will make you come undone. you rub your thighs together at the thought in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pressure between your legs. it does little to help and you imagine there's only one thing that can.
"hey."
you blink at the call of your name, eyes focusing on barou at the barrier between the field and the stands. he beckons you over with two fingers, he other hand wiping away the perspiration that dampens his face. picking up the water bottle you had refilled for him, you scurry over to meet him.
your gaze follows the bottle as barou brings it to his mouth. you watch his adam's apple bob up and down with each swallow before your eyes drag up to see his lips wrapped around the spout. the scene before you transforms again, this time to one where it's your nipple between his lips. you squeeze your thighs together, crossing one arm over your chest. when you speak, your voice comes out a little squeakier than usual. "almost done?"
barou shakes his head. "still got half an hour."
"half an hour?" you repeat, eyes widening and lips curling down into a frown.
barou isn't stupid. just like you've been watching him, he's had his eyes on you. he's seen how you've been looking at him with that far away gaze of yours and he knows exactly where your mind had gone in those moments. after all, you're doing a pretty poor job of hiding it.
"be a good girl and wait," he tells you, tipping your chin up so you're looking him in the eye. his crimson stare is hard but there's something else behind it—hunger. "then i'll give you what you want."
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thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
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bizbat · 29 days
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HEYY!! What about Jaybird with an s/o whos also a vigilante and she’s like super serious and quiet, Her outfit for fighting is like super duper revealing aswell so add nsfw :3
(If ur comfortable with it!!)
It's The Suit
🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️
🐼JJK Masterlist🐼
~ Jason Todd x Fem!AFAB!Reader
~ Explicit Smut
~ Reader is mentioned to have "plush thighs", but appearance is otherwise not described.
~ Wc: 2.4K
~ You can find more of my works here.
C/W: Smut, Pet names (Angel, Doll, Slut, Baby, Princess) Mdom, Groping, Light Choking, Spit, Creampie, Cunnilingus/Analingus (Jason eats it from the back) Use of the terms "cunt", "mound", "tits", "slutty", "pussy", Pussy Smacking, Public Sex, Begging, Pussyjob
There's just something about that suit . . .
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"You know, you are technically on my turf." His voice is crisp in your ear. It seems he only ever puts what Batman taught him to use when he wants to mess with you. "If you were anyone else I'd have dropped you off Gotham Bridge by now."
"How sweet . . ." You respond in a monotone voice. You're laid on your stomach, perched on top of a building with a set of binoculars in front of your face. You're more focused on the perp you've been trailing all week than your . . . boyfriend? Friend with benefits? Guy you sometimes go out to eat with, and have sex with regularly? Doesn't matter, you're doing your best not to pay any attention to him.
"Are you sure you're not cold in that thing?"
You wish he would do the same. He knows how much comments about your costume bother you, but he can't help it! It's just a little thing, barely big enough to hide, well, anything really. He can't tell you how many times he's seen it ride up between your cheeks, or be so taut against your body that he can see your nipples poking through on extra cold nights. Not to mention the cutouts on your sides and chest.
If it was made out of any other material you could probably wear it to a club and leave with a couple hundreds stuffed in it.
He's already reaching for your body before he even realizes it. It's too late to stop now, his hands are already stroking their way up from your calves. It's frankly beyond him at this point. "It's just so . . . tiny."
"Everyone always says that." You squirm, your leg subconsciously kicking up when he brushes over that sensitive spot on the back of your knee. "Black Canary basically wears the same thing, and no one ever says anything about her suit." You mumble, still not turning to face him. Jason can't help but be amused by your response. "No, she doesn't, and yes, they do." He presses his thumb into your skin, massaging the tense muscles beneath his gloved fingertips.
"Jay, I-I have to fo-" "Shhh, I know, I know," You try to push his hands back, your skin becoming more and more sensitive the higher he gets. It doesn't help that he's applying the perfect amount of pressure. "Just . . . focus baby, alright? Focus for me." It's hard to do what he says when he's slipped off his helmet and is now pressing feathery kisses to your exposed skin.
Still though, you try, pulling the now discarded binoculars back to your face and hoping he decides to cease his ministrations. Unfortunately for you, he's got no plans to stop any time soon. "What's he doing, baby?" His hands inch closer and closer to the dip between your legs, his hands squeezing and tugging at the fat of your upper thighs. "Tell me." He says sternly.
Your hands clench around the binoculars. You have to take a few breaths to calm yourself enough to answer him. "He-he's ah-" His thumbs are working their way under your suit, teasingly stroking your lips. "He's leaving n-now, probably headed-Jason!" He laughs again, he knows he's been pushing it. "What, doll? What's wrong?" He says, as if he didn't just have his face between your thighs, his lips gently kissing your pussy through your suit.
"I told you to focus," He says with a smirk, his hips almost grinding into the concrete below him. "Don't you worry 'bout what I'm doing, yeah?" He only continues, two of his fingers brushing against your mound as he plays with the band of your suit, tugging it away from your heat so he can get better access. Try as you might, he pokes at your folds with his tongue, the wet muscle barely dancing against your lips.
You can't stop your hips from swaying back to meet his face, begging for him to use more pressure. The tips of Jason's ears burn at your tiny gasps, the cute little noises only encouraging him to try and make you louder. His hand, the one not tugging at your suit, begins its attack on your ass, grabbing and squeezing your soft, doughy flesh. By now you've completely lost sight of the guy you were trailing, your hips chasing his face.
You moan his name, the binoculars once again thrown to the side, as you rise to your knees, your chest still parallel to the concrete roof beneath you. "Ohh, that's it angel," Jason finally stops toying with the stretchy fabric of your suit, pulling it to the side of your ass so he can finally see all of you. "Such a pretty pussy. So wet for me." He sticks his tongue out, pressing it flat against your folds, before licking a stripe all the way up to your asshole, circling it with his tongue.
He shallowly wriggles his tongue inside, just deep enough for you to reach back and push at his head with a whine. He laughs, lightly smacking your ass before kissing the puckered hole, and lowering his head back down to your pussy. "Alright doll, I get it, I get it." He uses two of his fingers to spread your lips, putting your dripping cunt for him.
He kisses you there too, before winding back and spitting a fat (unnecessary) glob of spit directly onto your clit. He works too well, sucking and licking exactly when and where you need him to, his pace slowly speeding up. The way he moans into you, it's as if it's just as pleasurable for him as it is for you. And it must be, the way his cock is straining against his zipper like this. God, you've got no idea what you do to him, especially in that tiny, slutty little suit of yours.
And dear God, he starts using his fingers, and your vision blurs and your back arches even deeper. Your chest heaves as he pumps his fingers in and out, curling against your g spot everytime, all while his tongue still swirls against your clit, flicking and circling the perky nub. Your hand finds its way into his hair, your fingers curling around the inky locks as he drinks up your juices. Jason groans at the feeling of your slick practically pouring down his chin.
It's a wonder how he's even able to breathe, his face so deep between your plush thighs. Not like he cares, though, if he could choose a way to go out again, it'd be with his face buried deep in your cunt. He's in heaven, he swears it. He can hear the sound of those pearly gates opening, though that might just be the sound of your sweet, sweet broken moans. That, combined with a lack of oxygen. Besides that, you can't tell him he's not eating out an angel right now.
Eventually though, he rips himself away, loudly sucking air into his lungs so he doesn't actually go to heaven. He curses his body for needing air to breathe. Maybe he can use "increasing his lung capacity" as an excuse to eat you out later, not now though. Right now, his cock is so painfully hard from being neglected, he's struggling to form proper thoughts.
"You ready for me, doll? S' this slutty pussy ready to take me?" He asks, ripping off his belt and shoving his pants down just enough for his cock to spring out. With the amount of spit and slick dripping down your thighs, it's a stupid question, but he absolutely refuses to fuck you unless you say you're ready for him. Part of you thinks its a consent thing, which is great, more guys should be like that, but part of you knows it's because he wants to hear you, little Ms. Stoic, begging for his cock.
You're on the verge of tears, your eyes completely unfocused at the feeling of his fat tip smacking against your weeping cunt. "Jay," You moan, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Jay . . ." He shakes his head. He's losing his mind, but the small bit he's still clinging onto won't let you get away with that, he's gotta make you beg for him. "C'mon, slut, I know you can do much better 'n that." He ruts against your cunt, his cock hard and red from waiting.
He smacks your ass again, hypnotized by the way it jiggles beneath his palm. Precum oozes deliciously from his tip, adding even more lubrication to your already soaked hole. He could cum just from the sight of your pretty lips glistening under the moon light and street lamps. He's so close to just giving in and making both of you feel good, when he hears your voice breaking through his clouded thoughts.
He feels like he's got water in his head, though your little "Please uck me Jay, need your cock," is loud and clear. Without further stalling, he lines his aching tip up with your hole, awestruck at the way it clenches around nothing, before he finally sinks in, after what felt like hours and hours of foreplay. You almost collapse, the only thing preventing your hips from dropping to the side is Jason's firm grasp on your suit, using the cutouts on your side as leverage to pull you back against him.
Even through all the wetness, he stretches you out, his cock filling you up so perfectly it makes your eyes roll back into your skull. Jason's head lolls back, a deep groan escaping the bottom of his chest at the feeling of your tight, slick walls gripping his cock. "Fuckin' perfect," He doesn't waste any time, his hips slowly moving to drag his cock back and forth inside you, his tip catching along your walls.
He's mindlessly babbling at this point, cooing about how good you feel, about how you were made for his cock, his hands white-knuckle gripping your suit. He speeds up, his cock tapping against your cervix in a way that has your stomach doing flips. "Faster Jay! Please, please please!" You pant, your ass bouncing against his pelvis as your hips chase after his.
How could he deny you when your voice is like honey in his ears, and your skin feels like silk. He feels his balls tighten at your moans, his body physically reacting to your sobs, your pleads. You've got no idea what it does to his ego, to hear his favorite, icy, little princess crying for his cock. Or at least, what it would do for his ego if he wasn't solely focused on cramming every inch of his cock deep inside your tight heat.
He thrusts faster, his tip smacking rhythmically against your cervix at a bruising pace. "So fuckin' messy, this pretty pussy's so fuckin' messy," He huffs, his chest tightening with every stroke as he feels your gummy walls closing around him tightly. Without even thinking about it, he reaches down and frantically rubs at your clit, already sensitive from his mouth. "Shit, baby, ya' close?" He pulls out without warning, flipping you over onto your back and pushing your knees up to your chest, before sinking back inside you.
"Can feel ya, ngh, feel so fuckin' good." He ends each sentence with his cock. He holds your legs down with his broad shoulders, his chest pressed against yours. One hand reaches back down to rub at your clit again, his ears ringing with delight at your moans. "Shit, shit, shit, shit," He huffs against your ear. "So close baby, so close." He nips and licks at your neck, his teeth occasionally tugging at your earlobe as his orgasm looms closer and closer.
Your tears run down either side of your pretty face, your skin so hot you're almost steaming in the cool Gotham air. You're just as gone as he is, if not more, your arms limply draped across your face as you mindlessly take all the pleasure he gives you. "Want-want it, Jay," You coo in his ear, or at least you think you do, your mouth is open but you can't tell if any words are actually coming out.
"Cum for me baby, let it out, need you to cum." He's begging you, his fingers losing any type of rhythm and structure, his hand grinding down desperately against your poor, tired nub. Is he crying? He feels something wet on his face, but he can't tell if it's from you or him. You aren't too far from him, lightheaded from the force of your legs pressed to up your neck.
You just need a little more, just a little more, you can feel it. You're right there, right there, right there! Are you yelling? Whatever. Your orgasm hits you so fast and so hard you're pretty sure you black out for a second. You feel like you're on a boat, the warm sun shining brightly on your skin, your body gently rocking along the tide. The waves speed up, but you're mostly numb by now, the heavy crashing barely disturbing your peaceful state of mind. The only reason you're brough out of your delusions is because you can feel something against your lips.
Your vision clears, though it's still a bit hazy. Jason's still on top of you, his eyes nearly cross as he peppers sloppy, wet kisses along your face, not even conscious enough to aim for your mouth as he begs you to cum, not realizing you already have. He's so used to making you cum first that his body won't even let him cum until he knows you have. That, of course, doesn't do him much good when he's not cognizant.
Realizing as much, you use the small amount of strength you have left in your face to hold his face still, pulling him close enough to press your lips to his. He thrust a few more times, before his hips still inside you, his thick, warm seed spilling out and staining both of your clothing with white. Sweat drips down his forehead, soaking his hair and tantalizingly trickling down his neck. He leans back, allowing your legs, which are completely useless by now, to slip off his shoulders, before he finally collapses on top of you.
You cradle his head in the crook of your neck, silently brushing the hair along his neck with your fingers, as you both rest in one anothers embrace. When your brain starts working again you'll chew him out for ruining your stakeout. For now, you'll settle with a raspy sigh. "You always do this." You sound more annoyed than you are.
He shrugs, dead serious with his response, his head still resting on your shoulder. "It's the suit, not my fault."
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moonstruckme · 8 months
Note
Hii! First off, I love your writing!
Could i request poly!marauders x reader who normally is very upbeat/sunshine-y but is feeling down and is really overwhelmed by school (like homwork or exams or smth) and they comfort her and help her study?
Don't worry if you don't wanna do it it is just an idea that popped in my head<3
Thanks for requesting!! Here you go sweetness <3
poly!marauders x (overwhelmed)sunshine!reader ♡ 998 words
“Hi, dovey.” Remus drops a kiss on your head as he comes to perch on the edge of James’ bed. You’re probably the most concentrated he’s ever seen you, lasered in on your homework as James pouts beside you. 
“Hey,” you say, and from anyone else your reply might sound normal, but Remus stops short. There’s none of your usual animation in your voice, no “how’s your day going, handsome?” and no jumping up to wrap your arms around his neck. From his own bed, Sirius shoots Remus a look. He’s noticed, too. 
“How’s your day going?” he asks probingly. 
“Good.” 
Remus nearly flinches, not that your tone is sharp. But it feels limp and lifeless compared to what he’s come to expect from you. He wants desperately to set you right, and from James and Sirius’ distressed expressions they feel much the same, but they’re in uncharted territory. He doesn’t know how to deal with you when you’re not your usual upbeat self. 
Remus decides on a roundabout tactic. “Everything alright, Prongs?”
James looks at him with giant, long-lashed eyes. “Y/N doesn’t want to go on a picnic.” 
Your eyes dart to James momentarily, and Remus thinks something like regret flashes across your face, but then your attention is back on your work. Sirius cocks his head as he watches you, trying to figure you out. Remus hopes he’s doing a better job than he is right now. 
You reach up to pet James’ hair absentmindedly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I just don’t have time today.” 
“It’s only going to be nice outside for so long,” James whines. 
Your sigh is deep and tired, and Remus feels like all the air goes out of his lungs with it, a dull ache blossoming in his sternum. “I’m sorry,” you say again. 
“Maybe we can all go tomorrow,” Remus says placatingly, reaching behind you to rub James’ shoulder. You don’t say anything, but he sees doubt and guilt flit in quick succession across your expression. “What’re you working on there, love?”
“Charms.” 
“Isn’t that due today?”
“Mhm.”
“Dove.” He infuses his voice with some sternness, and it works; you look up. “Why are you doing that so last minute?”
Remus is used to everything moving fast when it comes to you. You’re a sprightly thing. You’re there one second, gone the next; your smile sparks to life quicker than he can blink; your kisses are enthusiastic and rapid-fire, little pecks all over his face. But he isn’t expecting it, the way your eyes are looking at him dully, and an instant later they’re full of tears. 
Your voice comes out choked, and Sirius leans forward in his chair almost instinctively, like he’s lunging for you. “I don’t know.” 
“What do you mean, darling?” Remus asks gently, cupping your face. You won’t let yourself lean into it like you usually do, but a tear escapes your eye, racing down your cheek where Remus catches it with his thumb. “Are you having trouble studying?”
“I’m not—” Another tear follows the first, and you swipe at it, shaking your head with a high-pitched laugh. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” 
“It’s okay,” Sirius says, voice uncharacteristically soft. He looks as pained as Remus feels, at a loss for how you like to be treated when you’re upset. “What’s going on, baby?”
“I just can’t do it all as easily as you guys.” The words seem torn from you, each more scratched and fragile than the last. “I can’t keep up.”
Remus wants to ask again: What do you mean? but he holds his tongue. 
“I don’t get this.” You shove at the paper in front of you as if it will go away. “I’m not good at essays and I can’t keep track of what we’re doing in class. I’ve never had a problem before so I don’t understand why—” you take in a gasping, ragged lungful of air, and the sound tears at Remus’ heartstrings “—why all of a sudden I feel so dumb.” 
“Whoa, hey.” James takes your homework off your lap, pulling you in for a hug. “You’re not dumb, angel. Everyone has trouble keeping up sometimes. It’s a busy time of year, yeah?”
“It is,” Sirius confirms. “Flitwick seems to have forgotten we have other classes, with all he’s been assigning lately. And the potions essay due next week has been kicking my ass.” 
“Mine too,” you say miserably into James’ chest. 
“Is this why you’ve been so quiet lately?” James asks, his hand stroking a path down your spine and back up again. “How long have you been this overwhelmed?”
“I don’t know.” Your sigh is muffled by his shirt. “Since last week, I guess.” 
“Dove, you’ve got to be exhausted.” Remus shakes his head, stunned you’ve let this go on so long and vexed with himself for not realizing. “Take some time to rest. We’ll help you study when you’re ready to start again.” 
You turn around in James’ arms with a sniffle, your eyes red-rimmed but your features a bit less tense than they had been. “Thanks, but you don’t have to. You guys have your own homework, you shouldn’t waste your time helping me with mine.” 
James laughs, giving you a firm shake by the shoulder. “We don’t mind, silly. A lot of it’s the same stuff, we can just talk through it together.”
“Yeah?” you look at him hopefully, and Remus is more relieved than he’ll ever admit when he notices some of the brightness coming back to your expression. 
“Uh, yeah.” Sirius says, the duh implicit. “Honestly, sunshine, if you think any time spent with you is wasted, you’re more sleep-deprived than I thought. To bed with you.” 
You grin, but do as he tells you, laying your head down on James’ pillow. 
“Thanks,” you tell Remus as he lays a throw over you. “I really appreciate the help.” 
Remus smiles at you, his sunny-faced girl restored. “Anytime, dove.”
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weneeya · 2 months
Note
Hear me outttttttttt
the Gojo scene with Hanami.. but imagine him being that unhinged and pissed because someone touched you.. like 🥴 Please bless us with your work with this!! I’m begging
Overprotective
Gojo going feral
ur brain 🤝 my brain I've literally thought about this a thousand times omg thank u for requesting this
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You were supposed to be alone on this mission. Everyone had faith in you and they were right to think that way: you were a strong sorcerer. But Satoru had a bad feeling about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in you, in fact he was probably the one who believed in you the most ; but something was off and he couldn’t find what. 
He couldn’t just follow you there, because he knew it would hurt you. You were an overthinker and he didn’t want to put this weight on your mind. So he simply waited for you to come back to Jujutsu Tech, still worried that something could go wrong. 
The first thing that got him out of his mind was his phone ringing. When he saw your name, his heart skipped a beat. It was unusual from you to call him in the middle of a mission, especially as hard as this one. He didn’t hesitate before he picked up the phone. When he heard your trembling voice asking for help, the world stopped around him. Nothing else mattered or even existed right now, except you. 
He had never been this fast in his entire life before. He knew where you were for the mission, so he didn’t have to ask anyone else to come with him. He didn’t need anyone actually, because he was going to destroy the thing that touched you all by himself. 
When he finally arrived where you were, he really thought about going crazy. You were almost on the floor, as way too much blood was leaving your body. You were so pale, he could tell that you were just about to pass out. He reached your height in a second, carrying you to put you on the floor behind him, where you would be safe. He left a kiss on your forehead, sounding way too calm for it to be normal. 
“It’s okay, my love. Stay awake, it’s gonna be quick.” he sounded so soft to your ears, as you closed your eyes and finally breathed again. Everything was going to be fine now that he was here, you knew it. 
When Satoru stood up again, facing the creature that did that to you, a smile appeared on his lips. The last time he felt this angry, he was completely out of control. The only thing that was able to calm him down was when he was sure that his opponent had suffered twice more than what he had done. And this one, it hurted you ; so it needed to suffer even more. His piercing blue eyes were looking at the curse who soon rushed on the exorcist. 
Or at least it tried to. The curse was quickly stopped in his movement, not able to move at all. As it started to panic, trying to fight back, Satoru kind of appeared in front of it. His psycho smile was even more terrifying than before as he slowly tilted his head to the side. 
“Now, we can play,” was the last thing you heard before losing consciousness. The sight of Satoru being feral like this worried you a little, because you knew the man was unstoppable when he was like this. But at the same time, you knew that the mission was going to be handled just right. There was nothing to worry about anymore.
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OMG FERAL GOJO he's really driving me crazy I don't even have the words anymore with this man
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deceitfuldevout · 7 months
Text
Highest Bidder
Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader
Word Count: +3,066
Warning(s): +18, Non con, Loss of virginity, Human auction, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Misogynistic remarks, Insults, Just plain abuse, Robert is a warning himself.
Author's Note(s): I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. Inspired by @mypoisonedvine Robert Fischer fic go check it out!!
You couldn't stop checking your phone for an update. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he bail? Part of you had hoped so. It would make things a lot easier. Years ago, if someone had told you that you'd be auctioning off your virginity, well, the first thing you'd do is laugh in their face.
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That was before everything went to shit. Your parents ended up in neck-deep debt trying to pay off your college, borrowing money from some sleazy loaner company. Soon having no choice but to debate on filing for bankruptcy. Everything they've worked hard for, gone. You didn't want them to worry about that anymore.
This wasn't a huge deal for you. Personally, you've never had any luck with guys and would rather get this over with. Growing up you were always the awkward, ugly duckling of the friend group, so a boyfriend was out of the picture. Only sharing an innocent kiss with a childhood friend, but that was a long time ago. It was only after you reached your 20's where you began to bloom.
He'd bought your outfit and covered the cost of everything. He wants you ready and waiting for him, all wrapped up like a pretty present. He's very particular about these things, even making a list of errands to run before the big day. He requested for photos of the hair and makeup you'd be wearing for the evening. Scolding you every time you did something he disliked. He wouldn't even try hiding it. You reread his previous text message: Change the makeup. It makes you look like a cheap whore. You scoff at the response...how rude.
Even before all of this he would try to test your patience. Sending messages like, 'Do you know who I am? You should be more grateful that I'm giving you this much attention," or "Anyone would be lucky to be in your position,' which made you physically roll your eyes. This morning, he had given you a call as a reminder of where you would meet. He send you the hotel address with money for a cab.
He made sure to give you call in the afternoon as a reminder of what to do after arriving, ending it with, "I don't want to hear any complaining when I get there." before hanging up. You grumble a stray of curse words, this had better been worth it...
You couldn't believe your eyes on how luxurious the hotel was. It's entrance had been decorated with marble and brass statues. There wasn't a drop of it that didn't scream 'money'. You sheepishly sign in, allowing a worker to carry your bag to the room. It had taken a while before you could reach the top. Part of you was impressed, he had really gone all out.
As soon as you enter the room there was this sort of romantic ambiance to it. From the lighting, to the breathtaking scenery of the city. It was all so...dreamy. But this was no dream. You were going to have sex for the first time with some old, rich geezer, gross. You take note of a shopping bag left on the bed, opening it to find a lingerie set.
You held the fabric, inspecting the material. White lace, with hints of glitter that shine in the light. At least the old man has good taste. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, humming at the sight of it. Not bad...hell, you looked fantastic.
Suddenly the door knob jingles, then a heavy knock follows. You leapt from the bed, approaching to open the door for him. But before you could reach the knob it slams open. A man enters, sporting a well-tailored suit, dressed to the nines from head-to-toe. His hair is combed back, a few strands dangle against his forehead. As you scan the man's face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.
There's a light rosy hue to his cheeks. You first notice the striking blues of his eyes and how long his lashes are. He looks like he'd have no problem at all searching for someone. So what is he doing paying for someone like you? For a moment, you were in awe of his presence. Staring back at the man like a deer caught in headlights.
The meeting today had taken its toll on Robert. He was supposed to meet with you hours ago, but there had been an emergency with the company's shareholders. He could practically feel his blood boiling, to the point where it felt almost difficult to breathe. He tugs his tie off and yanks for his shirt to open, a few buttons go flying. He lets out a huff, scanning the room with his blue orbs for something, more specifically, someone.
"So you're the one I've been talking to eh?" a hint of humor in his voice, "Let me guess, you're a good girl caught up in the wrong crowd? Is that it?" he taunts, "I'm sure you've 'never' done this before," the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sinister grin. His eyes are emotionless. Cold as ice. Yet why did they seem so comforting? As if you've seen them before.
He drops his suitcase at the end of the bed, turning towards you. He eyes you up and down, as if he were deep in thought, "Give me a spin," and of course you follow his orders. He raises a brow, "Come here," he commands. You stare back at him, unsure of what he'd just said. Robert sighs, he doesn't have time for this. He's slightly drunk and exhausted from work. Right now he just wants some hard, animalistic fucking.
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He tugs your underwear to the side, examining his prize. He bunches up the waistband of your panties before yanking the fabric down. You held your breath, now riddled with anxiety. This was a bit too...casual for comfort. He fists the fabric, holding it to the side while the other hand held your hip.
His voice is deep, much deeper in person, "Hold it for me," he wants to get a good look at his purchase. His thick fingers slide down your pubic area, grazing against the bare skin, he hums, "Even waxed yourself like I told you to, good girl." he slaps the side of your hip, as if he were examining livestock. Your stomach coils at the realization. Never in your life have you felt so...objectified. Still, now wasn't the time to back down. He pushes you against a desk. Until you were now leaning on the table.
He spreads your folds with his thick digits, examining them closely. He held your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You let out a whine from the sensation, bucking your hips from the sudden discomfort. He retreats his hand before flipping you over. His chest now against your back. He pushes you against the table, bending you over for a better view. He was in no rush.
He rubs his fingers over your bare slit. His thumb caresses your bundle of nerves. As soon as he retreats you finally snap the fabric back in place. Now lowering your head with embarrassment. He grips your chin, lifting it until you're face-to-face, "No don't hide from me now..." he plops himself on a chair, tilting his chin up, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get this off?"
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If you weren't getting paid you would've scoffed at his rudeness. It was obvious he was into power play. Being in total control of everything. Now wasn't the time for letting your emotions emotions get involved. You help him remove his coat and tie, even unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He's still wearing his pants, now unclasped. He stares you down, a smirk now lingering on his cold features, "Take off your clothes,"
When you start to quickly unclasp the garter belt, Robert's voice booms, "Stop." he orders, "Do it slower," he leans back in the recliner, already palming his erection. You shyly unclasp your belt, letting the straps fall off each shoulder. His hand grazes on an exposed breast, sending shivers down your spine.
He chuckles, "Oh...don't tell me you're that sensitive?" a crude remark. Your brows furrow, why did he have to tease you so? He notices your obvious discomfort, "Don't worry darling, your only job is to fuck," as if that would make things better, "Do you know how to suck cock?" he questions. You give him a hesitant nod, "No...I've never done it before this is my first time--"
"I didn't ask for a whole life story,"
"...No," your lips press in a thin line. He was really pushing it, "So you've never had sex or sucked cock before, tell me, what have you done?" he pulls out his member, already hard and leaking. It's tip was flush pink, the same as his lips. He spits into his palm before working himself up, he knows you're nervous. He wants you to be intimidated by him. He pumps his shafts with slow strokes, "Tell me, what gets you off..." he sighs.
You look down to your feet, suddenly his voice booms, "No, do not look away," to which you began to tear up. His voice is soft now, "Sweetheart, look at me," he huffs. You look up at him now with tearful eyes, he groans, "Oh...that's it..." stroking his cock faster. A finger points directly at you in a 'come hither' motion. You walk towards him, still eyeing his shaft. How was that going to fit?
You felt warm despite the lack of clothing, there's a pooling sensation between your legs. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His tongue darts against a breast. He teases the bud with his teeth. He made sure it was swollen and sensitive before giving attention to the other breast.
You never knew it could feel this...good. As soon as your hands reach for his hair he instantly stops, Robert remembers the reason why you're here. It wasn't to see him. You only wanted one thing, and he doesn't have time to play pretend. He just came here to collect what he's owed. At the end of the day, you were just a hired whore. He swats both hands away, giving you the cold shoulder. He lifts himself from the seat, throwing you against the carpet. You're confused at the sudden mood swing. It frightens you. Where the hell did that come from?
"It's a shame, you were doing so well," Robert sits up, his leaking cock now presses against his abdomen. He's pissed. He paid you for your time, you were suppose to focus only on his needs. Every word that came from his mouth dripped with anger, "It seems like you need a reminder on whore etiquette," he knows you've probably fucked a few before him, this was all part of your little roleplay act.
"I'm not a whore!" you detest lying, what made him not believe you? Forget it...this wasn't worth an argument, "You know what? You can take your money back asshole! Fuck this and fuck you--" a hand grips around your neck. He'll have to show you a thing or two of what comes with selling yourself out, especially to a complete stranger. You've always knew deep down that you'd regret your first, but this was downright terrifying.
This man, he didn't even see you as a person. As a human being. To him, this was all a transaction that was paid for, "What did you think that website was for? It's a human auction. Not just your cunt. Meaning I own your ass for the next few hours," he leans in, pressing his nose against yours, he growls, "Remember your place..."
Robert pulls you up by the hair, throwing you onto the bed. You scramble to get away but he's much stronger. He began to wrestle you. To which you land a slap on his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. You pause, now too scared to move. He touches the tender skin, it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. Which just so happens to be an important meeting, "You little bitch..." he grips your jaw until it aches, forcing your mouth to open.
He takes the opportunity to spit inside, covering your mouth and pinching your nose. You felt like you wanted to gag. Finally, after fighting to hold your breath, you swallow. He grins, "See? even if you try to fight me, I always get what I want..."
You, of all people, should know this about him. Instead you try putting up a fight, "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!" thrashing around. Both of his hands now pressed against your throat. He scolds, "If you want it to hurt I'll make it hurt like nothing else..." he flips you over, pressing his body against your own, making it harder to breathe.
He lets his pants slide down. Tugging off his boxers. He spits a wad into his hand, that should be enough to get comfortable, for him. But for you? Well, he wants it to hurt you. Otherwise, how will you learn? Whores like you deserve to feel pain. That's what you get for teasing him in your photos. He growls into your ear, "Time to try my pussy..."
He yanks down your panties before pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He muffles your cries in his palm. You couldn't hold back the tears. This man is going to break you! As retaliation you tilt your head to the side and bit into his forearm. He grunts from the pain, it only encourages him to carry out your punishment. He thrusts harder, grinding down his hips to reach as deep as he could go.
You sob from the pain, going limp from shock. All you could do was cry into his hand, bracing yourself against the cushioning below. You turned your head to face the mirror, taking a good look at your own sad, pathetic reflection. You were being dominated by a complete stranger. How did it get to this point? When did you become so pathetic? So desperate to the point where you became a whore for hire?
He held you close to his chest. He knows now you're too tired to fight him off. He kept jutting his hips back and fourth, moaning in your ear with a deep grumble. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It repulses you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were of skin-to-skin slapping, Robert's insults, and your muffled cries.
"Fuck....fuck m'gonna cum..." he grunts. He rubs his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scented perfume. He drags his face across the soft, supple skin. He can tell by the shimmer that you applied an expensive lotion earlier. Of course you wanted him, what woman wouldn't? He's handsome, rich, successful, he's the entire package.
So why were you begging for him not to finish inside? You were just being stubborn, that's all. He'll have to remind you of who's in charge, "I bought this pussy fair and square. If I want to put a baby in it, then bitch, I will," he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting until the skin breaks. He doesn't stop thrusting his hips. Plunging his cock deep inside to coat your womb. He moans, furrowing his brows from the feeling of your velvety walls.
"You think you're better than me huh? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to get knocked up, yeah fucking right" he huffs, "You just wanted an excuse to be whore..." His voice becomes hoarse, as the pleasure began to increase, "Fuck...fuck I'll buy you a big house just so I can fuck you in it...hm...yeah you'd like that wouldn't you?" he doesn't stop his vigorous thrusts, "I’ll fuck some babies into you hm? You'd like that? I’ll give you a baby with blue eyes…something to remind you of me…" he flips you over, locking an arm around your neck.
All you could do was whine as you wait for the inevitable. Robert licks a stripe against your ear. He grunts with satisfaction, "Want you to remember this for the rest of your life....every time you think about your first time, you'll be thinking of me...." he fastens his pace. All you could do was stare back at your reflection. A tear trickles down your cheek. You couldn't help but agree. It was true, this moment would haunt you for the rest of your life.
Robert knows it. That's what gives him such an ego boost. He felt like he was on top of the fucking world. He growls in your ear, "Remember this, I.Fucking.Own.You." before unloading his spunk deep inside. He muffles a moan in the crook of your neck, bowing his head down to feel the bliss of it all. Fuck, he never came so much in his life. Was it the adrenaline or the pussy? He doesn't care. All he knows is that it's money well spent.
He slowly begins to pull out, hissing from the pleasure your pussy gave. He moans at the sight of his shaft dipped in a crimson tint, "Fuck me...if that isn't a sight for sore eyes..." he's made sure to mark his territory. He flips you over, you're too scared to even look at him.
He slides his hand from your stomach to your pelvis, "Hold on...I want to see it.." giving your lower abdomen a light push, forcing the rest of his seed out. It's mixed with a string of red. His lids are hooded, there's a twitch to his features. He grins, "Fuck...guess you weren't lying about me being your first..." he chuckles, "And here I thought you were just another lying whore..." playing with your emotions.
Robert lifts himself from the bed. He retrieves his belt on the floor, tying your wrists to the bed post. He doesn't want to risk you running away from him. Not while he still had a few hours left. He fixes himself in the mirror, coming his hair back to how it was before. Making sure that there wasn't a single strand out of place. He admires himself in the mirror. He felt like a fucking champ. Like nothing in the world could stop him, and so far there hasn't been.
Robert knew this was a good idea the moment he saw your profile online. He'd been tracking you down for quite some time, it's been a while. His obsession growing with each message sent. He had to own you. Mind, body, and soul. It was a good idea to install the hidden camera in the hotel. He could only stare at you from his office, viewing you changing into the set he'd purchased, admiring yourself in the mirror. He had to wait another agonizing hour before work was finished.
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He notices the way you'd tried being presentable, all for him. How you would constantly check your phone just to see what his orders were. Submissive, compliant, needy. So fucking needy. That little pussy of yours needed his cock to break it in. He doesn't want it to end, he tosses a few bills onto the mattress, you don't even flinch. Your mind had already escaped.
Robert leans in, caging your body with his arms, "Why don't I keep you as my little plaything, hm?" he knows you've recently graduated. But what use was a degree compared to what he could give? What greater reward than being his pretty little housewife? You might as well put those looks to use. He plants a kiss against your lips, humming in satisfaction, "Need a good girl to balance me out..." he begins to rant, "And if you ever think of leaving me, I'll send a video of us fucking to your parents,"
But the thing is, you never told him who your parents were. It was then when the pieces began to fall into place. How could you be so stupid? His username was R-Morrow.
This was no other than the owner of Fischer Morrow, the man responsible for your landing parents in deep debt. Of course they trusted him, because he's your childhood friend. You lift yourself up and face him. Your voice in disbelief when you question the identity of the strange man, now with a tearful look, "R-Robbie?" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, head turning to the side as he looks your way, "Did you miss me?"
"...Why? I-I don't understand..." you began hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. Your childhood friend had taken your virginity. At one point, he was your entire world. He approaches you, no longer a lanky young boy but a man. He cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. He sighs, "Don't you remember the promise we made? To find each other?" his eyes bore into yours, "I could only dream of it, but now?" he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, "Now you're finally mine..."
1K notes · View notes
alltoowelltom · 2 months
Note
What about fluffy morning routines with Oscar, like being all domestic and cute together!
thank you for requesting x
The third time the alarm goes off you've had enough.
Oscar is the sweetest boyfriend with almost no obnoxious habits - almost. The one quirk of his you absolutely cannot stand? The sheer number of times he will snooze his alarm in the morning and fall back to sleep.
'Why don't you just set it for later?' you've asked him countless times before. He always answered with a shrug, 'No, tomorrow I am going to get up first time it rings.'
"Oz." you hum sleepily, one arm coming up to push gently on his back. "Turn it off."
He makes a sound of acknowledgement, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his phone and switch off the sound.
"Sorry, love." he says, rolling over so he's laying on his side to face you, dropping his phone in the sheets. He pulls you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. He wouldn't admit it, but this moment right here is always his favorite part of the day. Just the two of you basking in each other's presence before the day begins.
"You're gonna fall asleep again." you say, prodding his chest gently.
Oscar grumbles into your hair, hand swatting around the sheets blindly for his phone. You pick it up, placing it in his hand. Both of you wince at the harsh light in the darkened room and he turns it off again as soon as he's seen the time.
"Shit, I'm late for training."
"Yeah, wonder how that happened?" you sass back, kissing his chest.
"D'you want to come with?" He asks, tracing the freckles on your arm. You shiver at the feeling of his nails that are slightly too long again, knowing you'll need to nag him about cutting them this afternoon.
"No," you giggle. "I'm gonna stay here and go back to sleep until you're back."
"Lucky thing," Oscar sighs, sitting up in bed. "I love you." He presses a kiss to your head as you repeat his words back.
Oscar's quiet as he gets dressed and brushes his teeth, clearly making an effort not to disrupt your sleep any more than he already has. You think he's left and let yourself drift back to sleep until you hear his trainers scuffing the hallway floor and he pops back into the bedroom.
"One last kiss." He giggles cheekily, giving you two on your cheek and picking up his phone from where it laid next to his pillow. You smile softly, in-and-out of sleep but you manage to squeeze his hand and hope that says enough.
By the time Oscar comes back from training you've gotten out of bed and showered.
"Awh, what?" Oscar pouts. "At least come sit with me while I get ready?"
With anyone else, you'd scoff at their clinginess but you can't help but melt at him. It had taken Oscar a little while to open up to you and become truly comfortable when you'd begun dating. He could be a little shy and tried to ensure he was independent and not needy at first, worried about scaring you off. Now, you sit on the bathroom counter, putting on some light makeup while he showers and tells you about his current training routine.
"Oh, and I got you one of those apple danishes on my way back," he calls out from behind the glass. "It's just in the kitchen."
"Hmm," you chuckle at his sweetness. "A pastry from Pastry."
When Oscar's out the shower and dressed you hand him your necklace silently and he positions himself behind you, carefully doing up the clasp the way he did every morning you were together - to the point where you'd begun to struggle latching the chain together on your own, having to twist it to the front so you could see what you were doing.
"All good?" He asks, trying to smooth your hair back into place.
"Yeah, thank you honey." you say, giving him a smile in the mirror. He returns it with a big Oscar-smile, the one with lots of teeth and crinkles by his eyes.
"Help me make the bed?" you ask, knowing Oscar would leave it a mess if you didn't remind him.
"We're just gonna get into it again tonight and make it messy again," he'd tried to reason in the past. "Why wouldn't we just save the effort and leave it?"
You each take a side of the duvet, pulling it up and fluffing the pillows, Oscar following your lead on the correct technique.
"If you bought less pillows, this would be so much quicker." He grumbles with a grin, tossing one of the many throw pillows at you gently. "I'm your pillow anyway, you don't use one of these."
"It's to make the room look pretty." you roll your eyes. Boys.
"The room already looks the prettiest, because you're in it." Oscar says sweetly, crawling over the bed and reaching out to you. Your heart swells at his (cheesy) words and you let him pull you down onto the bed.
"Let's nap for a bit, yeah?" He says softly, nuzzling into your neck. "See if you're a good pillow too."
thank you for reading x
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months
Text
Belong
Yandere!Miguel O’hara x reader
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synopsis: Miguel saved you from a collapsing universe, and he will do anything to make sure you stay.
word count: 664
warnings: DARK CONTENT!!! Miguel is extremely obsessive and a yandere. he gaslights and manipulates reader.
a/n: first time writing content like this, i hope it’s good
The space, or home as Miguel likes to call it, he keeps you in is nicer than you want. It’s too nice, so nice that if you told anyone you were unhappy they would probably laugh in your face. You have a beautiful “home” , a handsome husband, and a wonderful life with no worries. You’re living the dream. Yet, your life is anything but a dream. If you had realized what you were getting yourself into you would’ve stopped a long time ago.
Miguel was perfect when you first started dating. A gorgeous, kind, caring man with aspirations for greatness. He promised you a life of no worry and loved you unconditionally. You didn’t know that he was hiding something so terrible it could hurt your world as you knew it.
You try your best to forget what happened, Miguel does his best to force you to forget. As much as you try you can’t forget the image of your daughter and your home collapsing in front of you. On bad days, days were Miguel gets too angry you stay in bed thinking about your life before everything happened. You pretend like you still have your daughter, like you still have the old Miguel. Of course, he hates those days. He despises when you stay in bed, eyes staring at nothing. He hates it when your voice gets hoarse and your temper gets short with him. This is one of the days he hates.
“I’m trying to talk to you nicely. I want to talk things out and discuss this like civilized adults, mi vida. But you just don’t get it do you?”
“Don’t get it?! What is there to get?! You keep me trapped up here and i fucking hate it!” You scream at him.
“I’m doing this to protect you. The world is so dangerous and this is the only way to keep you safe. I do this because i love y-” he tries to say before you cut him off.
“Love me? You love me? This isn’t love, it’s an obsession! Don’t you get it?” You snap at him.
You’re breathing heavily as his eyes turn bloodshot red. His hands clench beside him as he turns around. You know that if he looked at you he would hurt you.
“Don’t say that. I do love you. More than you can understand. Don’t you see everything I do for you?” He slowly gets closer to you, backing you into a wall and you slide to the ground trying to hide yourself.
“I have only ever loved and cherished you. And yet, you treat me like this? I’ve made mistakes, we all have! Don't make me into the bad guy because I care about you,” he says. His voice is so calm yet so venomous.
“I just-” You try to say before his fist strikes against the wall behind you. You let out a shriek as you quickly cover your mouth with your hand.
“you just what? You just thought you could treat me like shit and get away with it?!” His voice becomes louder.
“I’m sorry, Miguel. I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it,” you try to say, your voice shaking out of fear.
He kneels down next to you, hand reaching for your face before you flinch away. In the next second he grabs at your jaw with a strong hand, pulling you closer to him like a doll.
“You’re sorry?” He raises a brow. You nod as a response.
“Tell me then,” he says calmly, you already know what he’s talking about.
“I love you, Miguel,” you say, eyes peering up to his.
“I love you most, mi vida,” he says, giving you a soft kiss to the lips.
Maybe he does love you, in his own sick and twisted way. You can only hope his love for you can protect you from him.
3K notes · View notes
fartfather · 1 month
Text
Audience of One pt.2
Satoru x fem!reader x Suguru
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Word count: 6.1k
Series Summary: When Suguru first walked in on you and Satoru having sex, it was an accident. But he couldn't say the same about every time after that. He's under the impression that this habit of his is a secret. But you and Satoru have known this whole time and didn't plan on letting Suguru know anytime soon.
pt.2 Info: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, PiV sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome, hair pulling, choking, reader receiving oral, Male receiving oral, praise/degradation kink, spanking, begging, pet names (princess, baby, love, etc), established relationship w Gojo, aftercare, basically 90% porn 10% fluff, Gojo teaching Geto how to fuck you, Geto is a lil shy at first
pt.1 pt.3 pt.4
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"Ah, fuck," Gojo moaned out, throwing his head back.
"Shhh," you shushed with a teasing giggle, "We wouldn't want anyone to hear us, would we?"
You were sat on Gojo's cock, hands pressed into his chest and knees bent on either side.
Geto’s breath hitched and eyes widened from your words. We wouldn't want anyone to hear us?
You're not serious... right?
Gojo looked up at you and bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle a laugh.
You both had already noticed Geto watching you.
This was becoming a little game for you two. Trying to see how long you two could keep the innocent act together, all while waiting to see how long it would take until Geto caved and admitted. Which would come first?
"Mm," you hummed as you lifted your hips, letting Gojo's cock nearly slip out, before pushing back down and taking him fully.
Geto watched, unable to peel his eyes away. He wanted so badly to join. He was tired of having to stand on the sidelines. But at the same time he would never admit his wrongdoings.
No, instead he was forced to watch in silence and suffer from his own denial and stubbornness.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
Days passed and Geto quietly watched your lewd acts a few more times, until it was Gojo who finally caved in.
It was late at night and Gojo had just come back home from exorcising a particularly dangerous cursed spirit. You wanted to help him unwind and he wanted to spice things up.
So there you two were, sitting on the bed, kissing passionately.
Your legs were wrapped around Gojo while his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping both of you upright as he sat at the edge of the bed.
When Gojo broke the kiss, his eyes were dark and hungry. You looked up at him, breathing heavily, and bit your lip.
"What is it, baby?" You asked in a seductive tone, running a hand through his hair.
He stared into your eyes, thinking. He was tired of this charade. Tired of the act.
He grabbed your hand from his hair and kissed the palm of it,
"I think," he paused and kissed your wrist, "it's about time," then kissed the crook of your elbow, "we end this little game," his lips moved to your shoulder.
"What do you mean?" You asked him with a confused expression.
Gojo moved his mouth down your other arm, leaving kisses and hickeys, and didn't answer.
When he reached your wrist, he lifted his head and smirked. "Don't worry," he kissed the back of your hand, "you'll see."
Before you could ask anymore questions, Gojo moved to your neck.
He kissed the base and then licked his way up the side. When his lips reached your ear, he kissed the shell and whispered, "Just relax and let us take care of you."
Us? Did he mean…?
Realization flashed across your face and you bit your lip to hide your embarrassed smile.
"Oh, so we're finally letting him in?" You asked, turning your head slightly.
"I'm tired of seeing him look so pathetic," he chuckled, "he needs this as much as we do."
Geto’s eyes squinted from outside the bedroom. He tried to listen in to what you and Gojo were saying, but your voices were too low.
"And what if I don't want him to join?" You teased, both of you knowing full well that was a lie.
Gojo smirked and tilted his head, "Oh yeah? Then why is our bedroom door unlocked and cracked open? I should go close it then, shouldn’t I?”
"Maybe I just didn't want to get up," you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.
"Sure," he laughed and rolled his eyes, "I bet you're soaking wet, aren't you?”
You brought your finger up to your lip and tapped it, pretending to be in deep thought. “You wanna check?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’d love to,” he replied with a smirk and grazed his fingers just barely under the hem of your pants.
“But I bet Suguru would be more than willing to check as well,” he whispered in your ear. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let out a breathy sigh, enjoying his touch.
A shiver went down your spine as his breath hit your neck and you opened your eyes again, looking back up at him.
Nodding your head, you gave Gojo permission to finally invite his friend in.
Gojo smiled and turned his head towards the door.
"Suguru," he called out in a lilted tone, "get in here."
Geto's eyes widened and he felt a rush of emotions.
How did Gojo know he was there?
And why was he calling him inside?
Geto didn't move. He stayed frozen where he was.
"Geto," Gojo said once more.
Still no response.
"Come on, you don’t want to leave the lady waiting, do you?” Gojo was growing impatient.
Finally, Geto pushed the door open.
"How did you-"
"Know you were here?" Gojo finished his question, "Because I know my best friend. Plus you did a shitty job at hiding it- we knew this whole time.”
Geto's face turned red and he looked down. He felt so embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," was all he could muster up, looking at his feet.
"For what?" Gojo asked, cocking his head to the side.
Geto looked at you, still clung to Gojo and sat on his lap. You bit your lip when your eyes met and attempted to hold back a giggle.
"For, um..." Geto cleared his throat, "for watching."
"Watching what?" You asked, feigning ignorance, with a faux confused expression.
Gojo snorted, amused, and shook his head.
"Okay, that’s enough messing with him, I want him to be able to enjoy this," Gojo said and looked back to Geto.
You turned to Gojo and pouted while looking up at him, “No fun,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t contain the smirk that began to shape your lips.
Geto felt his pants grow tighter and he gulped.
You and Gojo had been teasing him for weeks. Was he finally about to get what he wanted?
"Well," Gojo continued, drawing out the word, "if you're so sorry, then why don’t you show us? Actions speak louder than words, right?”
You turned your attention to Geto, curious to see how he'd react.
"You mean...?" He asked, eyes wide and pupils dilated.
"Yes, Geto," Gojo answered, “Unless you don’t want to?” He questioned, knowing fully well how desperately Geto wanted his turn.
"No! I mean, yes, I want to," he blurted out.
"Perfect," Gojo said, smirking. "Then go ahead. Don’t be shy.”
Gojo then lifted you from your ass and positioned you to sit on the bed, you legs dangling off the edge.
Geto approached the two of you. He stopped a few steps away and looked at Gojo, unsure.
"W-what should I do?” Geto asked.
"I think you know what," Gojo replied with a chuckle.
"Y-yeah, I know, but," Geto was so nervous. Despite the amount of times he’d imagined this scenario, he never actually thought it would happen! And now that it was happening- he was at a loss.
You observed Geto, watching the gears spin behind his eyes as he wracked his brain for answers. You almost couldn’t help but laugh, taking pleasure in his embarrassment.
But you decided to remain gentle and take some pity on him. You had been torturing him for weeks after all.
With an outstretched hand you motioned forward and and said, "Come here."
Geto took a deep breath, glanced at you, and then back at Gojo. Gojo nodded, indicating to his friend to follow your instruction.
He hesitantly stepped forward and stood between your legs. He reached his hand out and brushed a piece of hair behind your ear.
You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.
He smiled at the gesture, enjoying how soft and delicate you were.
“She’s very responsive,” Gojo told Geto, “Every little touch affects her more than you think.” He chuckled and laid back onto the bed, propping himself up with his elbows to watch the show.
Geto nodded and looked back at you, studying your features.
God, you were so beautiful.
He didn't want to rush anything. No, he wanted to savor this moment.
So, Geto continued to study you. His thumb traced the shape of your cheek bone and jawline, moving down to your chin.
You kept your eyes closed and enjoyed the attention, humming softly.
“Are you getting hard just from looking at her?!” Gojo blurted out, interrupting Geto’s focus.
You couldn't hold back the giggle that escaped your lips.
Geto turned red and his fingers grasped your chin harder than intended.
"Fuck, sorry," he said, loosening his grip.
"Don't worry, Suguru, she likes it rough too." he assured his friend, "Right, princess?"
You hummed in response, smirking with your eyes still closed.
“Although, I suppose you would know that, wouldn’t you?” He said, cocking his head to the side, his blue eyes piercing into Geto.
Geto swallowed hard.
“Don’t feel bad,” you opened your eyes and looked up at him, “I’ll tell you a secret,” you motioned for him to come closer.
He dipped his head while you also met him halfway, moving into the crook of his neck and whispered against his ear, “We liked it.”
You felt the shiver go down his spine and smiled.
Gojo sat up and looked at the both of you,
"As much as I'd love to continue teasing him," Gojo paused and looked at you with a devilish grin, "I want him to see how pretty you look when you cum. How much better the view is up close.”
Geto couldn’t help but moan at Gojo's words. He was so desperate. So turned on.
He pulled away from your embrace and looked down, admiring the sight of you.
The way you looked up at him, waiting patiently for him to make his move. The way your shirt was bunched up just enough to reveal the skin above your waistline. And the way your pants sat on your hips, taunting him, begging him to take them off.
"Please," he whispered, looking into your sparkling eyes, "can I take these off?" He asked, tugging on the hem of your pants.
You tilted your head and gave him a small pout, “Just those?” You asked, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.
Geto let out a small groan and his cock twitched.
"Can I take everything off?" He asked.
You giggled, loving the way his desperation was beginning to show. "Please do," you smiled sweetly at him.
Geto waisted no time, his hands quickly beginning to tug the bottom of your shirt over your head.
“Fuck- thank you,” he moaned once he took in the sight of your topless figure.
Your tits were the perfect size. And god, the way they were framed by the thin bra you were wearing. It was almost too much for him.
Geto grabbed your chest and pushed them together.
"Fuck," he whispered and leaned his head forward, his lips attaching to the top of one of your breasts. "Mmm," you hummed as Geto licked and sucked the area around your nipple, "I thought you were going to take my clothes off, Sugu," you whined.
“Got distracted,” he mumbled against your skin, his gaze never leaving your body in front of him, even as he unclasped your bra and let it fall on the bed.
Gojo snickered at his comment and watched in amusement. He could tell his friend was struggling.
It was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes, really.
But Geto just couldn’t decide which part of you he wanted to give his attention to first.
He kissed and sucked every inch of skin he could get his mouth on. His hands were everywhere- running through your hair, groping your chest, squeezing your waist, and grabbing your ass.
His hands were practically shaking as they moved down your hips.
Geto tugged the belt loops of your pants, pulling them down to the floor, and revealing the matching panties that covered your cunt.
He bit his lip and stared, completely transfixed. Your pussy was dripping wet, a stain of your arousal already formed on the fabric.
He couldn’t resist- but at the same time, he didn’t want this to end.
Gojo interrupted his trance, "Touch her. Please, I can't stand seeing her suffer." And with that encouragement, Geto didn't need to be told twice.
He ran a finger up the center of your panties and pressed his thumb into the spot above your clit.
You let out a gasp, surprised at his sudden boldness, and closed your eyes.
Geto looked up at your face, studying your reactions.
Your lips were parted slightly, letting the heavy breaths that escaped them fill the room.
Then he quickly stood up and looked down at you with determination in his eyes, “Sit on my face,” he demanded, his voice low and desperate, “please, I need you to.” he added softly, and averted eye contact, unsure if his previous tone had been too harsh.
You looked at him, taken aback, and bit your lip.
"Ooh, someone's getting bold," Gojo said as he leaned forward and sat with his legs crossed. His elbows rested on his knees while he held his head in his palms, observing you and Geto with a newfound fascination.
Nodding, you smirked and stood up from the bed.
Both Gojo and Geto watched with hungry eyes as you pulled off the remaining piece of clothing, revealing the dripping wet mess that had been building this whole time.
"Lie down," you motioned for Geto to get onto the bed. He quickly obliged and lay flat on his back.
Gojo scooted over, making room for you and assisting you into position.
Geto's hands rested on your thighs, guiding you closer to his face.
His breathing became heavy as his nose was engulfed in the scent of your arousal.
He didn't even notice Gojo's hand sneak up the back of your head.
But he did notice the way you whimpered when Gojo pulled your hair, involuntarily making your back to arch and muscles to relax- forcing you to fully sit on Suguru's face.
"Oh," was the only word that could escape your mouth in a soft moan.
Geto was in heaven.
He licked and sucked on your folds, savoring the taste.
His fingers dug into your skin, pulling you closer and keeping you in place as you attempted to ride him, hoping that would give him some air. But he wasn't having it. He wanted you to suffocate him.
You looked over at Gojo, his expression full of hunger, and you couldn't help but lean over and kiss him. His grip tightened on your hair and you gasped into his mouth.
Geto was so hard.
Your gasps and whimpers, the taste of your cunt, the scent of your arousal, and the feeling of your soft skin were driving him crazy.
"Look at you," Gojo cooed as he pulled you back, using his grip on your hair. "All flushed and wet. God, you're such a pretty little slut."
He was right.
You were a mess.
A pretty, blushing, panting mess.
"And what a lucky man, Suguru is," he smirked, looking down at his friend, "having you sitting on his face. The perfect throne for the perfect princess."
Your eyes fluttered closed, his words and Suguru's tongue bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
Geto was moaning against your pussy, the vibrations sending shock waves through your body.
"I'm... close," you managed to pant out with your eyes rolled back and brows knitted together.
"Already?" Gojo teased, "Suguru, slow down. We don't want our girl cumming too fast."
"But..." you whimpered and opened your eyes to glare at him.
"Shh," Gojo hushed you patronizingly, "you wouldn't want to be rude to our guest, would you? Be a good girl and hold out for a little longer- for his sake." He released your hair and gave you a look that made it clear you didn't have a choice.
You whined and pouted, but did as you were told.
Geto's pace turned agonizingly slow. He had switched to long, languid strokes, focusing on collecting as much of your juices as possible.
He was determined to savor this moment.
Gojo admired the view. The way your back was arched and muscles tensed, trying desperately to hold off your orgasm.
Your chest heaved and you were letting out small whimpers, unable to control yourself.
The heat in your abdomen grew more and more. "Fuck!" you cried out, nearing dangerously close.
Your hands found their way into Geto's hair, holding on tightly as a means to keep you grounded.
Gojo smirked. He was thoroughly enjoying the way your composure was slowly slipping. "What's wrong, Princess?" he asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Feeling a little overwhelmed?"
You couldn't answer him. Instead, you threw your head back and let out a drawn out moan.
"I don't know… how much longer I can wait," you cried, voice trembling.
"Shh," Gojo soothed, and patted your head, "don't worry, baby. We won't make you wait much longer. Right, Suguru?" He asked his friend.
"Mhm," was his reply, a hum of confirmation.
Gojo nodded and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were half lidded and glassy as you stared back at him.
"Just a little longer, okay?" he whispered, kissing your forehead.
You nodded, barely registering his words.
Geto continued his ministrations, slowly pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Gojo watched you closely, recognizing all the signs of your nearing orgasm.
Your walls fluttered and you let out a high pitched whine. With each new flick of his tongue your hips began rocking and your moans grew louder.
"There's a good girl," Gojo praised, "you've been so patient for us, haven't you?" You nodded again, biting your lip.
"Okay," Gojo said, "go ahead, Princess. Let go. Cum for us."
At his command, Geto's hands gripped your thighs even harder, holding you flush against his face.
He swirled his tongue around your clit, eliciting the most sinful sounds from your lips.
The heat that had been pooling in your stomach finally overflowed and waves of pleasure washed over you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck- Yes!" you cried out.
Geto groaned into you, eagerly lapping up all of your juices.
You tasted sweeter than he ever could have imagined.
His head was swimming, unable to process anything except for the pleasurable sensation of his tongue pressed against your clit.
And you were just as lost in your own pleasure.
You continued grinding against him as your orgasm washed over you.
Your head was thrown back and mouth fell open, letting moans spill past your lips.
Gojo saw this as the perfect opportunity to bury himself in your neck. He kissed and nibbled while whispering into your skin.
"That's it, just like that. God, you're so beautiful when you cum," he moaned, his cock straining painfully against his pants. "You've made Suguru a very happy man, princess," he added.
"Mhm" Geto hummed in agreeance into your cunt, the vibrations mixed with his tongue still lapping overstimulated you, causing your legs to shake and squeeze.
"Ah!" you whimpered as your muscles involuntarily contracted, pulling Geto impossibly closer when your thighs squeezed him.
Gojo laughed and looked at Geto, "Looks like she's holding you captive."
"Not that I mind," he smirked against your pussy, "I could die here and be completely happy."
Geto's words sent a shiver down your spine and you moaned, releasing him from the grip of your thighs.
With one final lick of a stripe up your cunt, you collapsed into the bed, panting heavily on your back.
Gojo smiled and brushed the hair that had stuck to your forehead away. "Such a good girl," he praised.
asking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.
"Now," Gojo looked over to his friend and nodded in your direction, "Tell her nice things and touch her gently. Let her know how much you enjoyed that. She loves the attention, especially after she's been fucked out of her mind."
Geto followed his friends advice.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, moving closer to you. "Your taste," he kissed your jaw, "your smell," he kissed your neck, "the sound of your moans," he kissed your collarbone. "You're absolutely perfect."
"Mmm," you hummed, enjoying his words full of genuine emotion.
Geto moved even closer, hovering over your body. His lips ghosted over your skin as he spoke,
"Thank you," he whispered, "that was everything I ever dreamed of and more."
His words sent a wave of pride over you and you smiled, "You're welcome."
Gojo chuckled and shook his head, "Don't get her ego too inflated now," he joked, "she's already too much."
You giggled and turned to look at Gojo, "Like you're one to talk."
"Guilty," he smirked, then looked over to his friend, "but we do have a problem."
Geto looked at him with a confused expression.
"Our princess has had an orgasm," he stated.
Geto nodded.
"And you haven't."
Geto's eyes widened, the realization of Gojo's intentions finally hitting him. He was going to let his friend get pleasured by his girlfriend.
"Let me take care of you both," You looked between Gojo and Geto with a smile and reached out to pull Gojo closer.
Once he was within arms reach you began to undress him, starting with his shirt. He let out a sigh, enjoying the feeling of your hands roaming his chest.
"You're such a tease," he moaned, his eyes fluttering closed.
"You love it," you whispered into his ear while palming his cock over his jeans. And once Gojo let out a strangled groan you pulled away with a giggle and turned to focus your attention on undressing Geto.
You started by pulling his shirt over his head.
As soon as the fabric hit the floor, Gojo leaned in and pressed his chest into your back, "Why did I ever let you get so fucking smug?" he asked while running his fingers through your hair.
You looked over your shoulder and smirked, "You love me."
"Hm, I do," he whispered against your ear and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
Meanwhile, Geto was watching the two of you with wide eyes and a growing blush.
The way you and Gojo moved around each other, teasing and flirting- it was mesmerizing.
And when Gojo began sucking hickeys into the side of your neck, Geto couldn't help but groan.
Your hand moved up his chest and stopped at his lips. "Shh, patience," you smiled, "we haven't forgotten about you."
"You haven't, maybe," Gojo mumbled into your neck.
"Don't listen to him," you said, looking at Geto and giving him a playful smile, "he's just jealous I haven't been tending to him."
"Hey!" Gojo protested and bit your neck in retaliation, which caused a squeal to slip past your lips.
Gojo took undressing himself into his own hands as you continued assisting Geto.
He quickly unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down his thighs, his boxers following right after.
Once the three of you were fully naked, Geto looked between the two of you with a questioning gaze.
"Um, how should I... position myself?" he asked hesitantly, unsure of where he would be allowed to touch and what his role would be.
"You're our guest tonight, Suguru," Gojo said, "I'll let you decide."
"Really?!" He looked at Gojo, surprised by the freedom he was given.
"Mhm," Gojo hummed and nodded.
"Thank you," he replied.
Geto took a few moments to think.
He knew he wanted to watch your face, see every emotion and expression you made.
If he and Gojo were going to have you at the same time then that meant he would have you blow him while Gojo takes you from the back, then he could see the expressions from both of the cocks in you. It’s a win/win/win.
"I want to lay down," Geto stated, "and I want to be able to see her face," he added, nodding in your direction.
"How should I-" you began asking, but Gojo cut you off.
“You’re going to lay on your stomach and I’m going to lift your pretty ass in the air. And while I’m fucking you, instead of pushing your face into the mattress I’ll be shoving your mouth on Suguru’s cock. Sound good?” He smirked, waiting for a reaction.
Your eyes widened and your cunt throbbed.
He wasn’t asking, he was telling.
And his tone of voice sent a shockwave through your body, making your pussy clench around nothing.
You gulped and nodded your head, your arousal already building from the mental image your boyfriend painted.
Geto sat back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him, and waited patiently. You lay on the bed on your stomach, legs bent with your ass sticking up.
Gojo positioned himself behind you and held his cock in his hand.
Once you positioned yourself properly between them you looked forward. You saw Geto slowly pumping his cock in his fist, eyes half closed as he gazed across your body.
A low moan escaped his lips as his thumb pressed into the tip, spreading the precum that had gathered there.
"Mmm," he groaned and closed his eyes.
You licked your lips, already eagerly anticipating what was to come.
Gojo rubbed his tip against your entrance, letting out a groan as he felt your slickness. "She's so fucking wet," he moaned, "it's all because of you, Suguru."
Geto opened his eyes and looked at you.
Your head was now resting on his thigh, lips parted and pupils dilated.
He watched as Gojo's cock slowly entered you and the way your eyes rolled back and a long, drawn out moan spilled past your lips.
Geto couldn't take it anymore.
He needed to feel your mouth on his cock.
He grabbed the base of his shaft and held his tip to your lips. "Open," he commanded, his tone low and firm.
His commanding voice instantly made your pussy clench and you followed instructions, parting your lips while holding his intense gaze.
Geto let out a satisfied moan once he felt the warmth of your mouth envelope his cock.
"Fuck, yes," he said through gritted teeth, "so good."
"She is, isn't she?" Gojo praised as he began to pick up his pace. "Fuck, so tight too," he moaned, his hand reaching for your hair, grabbing a fistful and forcing your mouth down onto Geto's cock.
"Fuck!" Geto shouted as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.
Your eyes watered and a gurgled moan tried to escape your throat, but it was stifled from Geto’s cock that was buried in your mouth.
"Good girl," Gojo groaned, his hand moving to the base of your neck, "taking my cock and sucking off Suguru like the good little slut you are."
Geto and Gojo were in heaven. And so were you.
Both of their cocks filling you from either end, their praises filling your ears and the feeling of their bodies pressed against yours.
This was surly heaven.
With each new thrust from Gojo’s end your body lurched forward, making Geto's cock hit the back of your throat.
The sensation caused you to gag and tears to spill from your eyes, leaving a wet trail down your cheeks.
"Fuck," Geto moaned and gripped the sheets, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back. He was desperate to take in your every expression.
"Mmm," you hummed, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through his body.
"You like having your holes fucked at the same time, don't you?" Geto asked, his voice low and raspy. He was quickly becoming more comfortable and confident with his role in your new arrangement.
Your eyes fluttered closed as you gave a small nod, humming again in agreeance.
"Such a slutty girl," Gojo said, picking up his pace.
You whined around Geto's cock, the praise causing a new rush of heat to form in your stomach.
Gojo continued his praises, knowing how much they affected you, “Our perfect, little, slutty girl, aren’t you? Just a desperate, needy, little, slut who loves having her holes stuffed full at the same time. You love being used like a little fuck toy, don't you?”
His words went straight to your cunt and your walls began fluttering.
Your muffled moans were constant as your orgasm quickly approached. One of Gojo’s hands moved to rub circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer with every passing second.
"Are you close, Princess?" he asked, knowing fully well that you were.
"Mmm!" you whined, choking on Geto’s cock while trying to push back onto Gojo’s.
"Oh, so desperate," he smirked and leaned forward, "I should make you beg for it, like the little slut you are," he whispered into your ear.
You tried to protest, shaking your head and moaning into Geto's dick.
Gojo chuckled and looked at Geto. "What do you think?"
Geto hummed and considered his options.
He was already so close, and judging from the way your moans and breathing were increasing, you were as well.
But the idea of getting to hear your desperate, breathless, pleas, was too much to pass up.
"Make her beg," he said, smirking.
"Mm-mm!" You whined, desperately trying to communicate with them.
"Oh?” Gojo looked down at you, “You heard the man- beg, princess.”
“Mmph!” You’re begs fell flat into muffled whimpers and the only thing you could do was look up at Geto with tears in your eyes and a pleading expression.
Geto couldn’t help the groan that slipped past his lips. Seeing you so helpless, completely at his and Gojo's mercy, was exhilarating.
"I can't hear you," Gojo teased, slowing down his pace.
You whined and attempted to meet his thrusts halfway by pushing you ass onto him. But Gojo quickly caught on and gave you a quick smack on your ass.
"No," he growled, "you’ve been such a good girl tonight, don’t make that change."
You let out a frustrated sob, the feeling of desperation and the ache between your legs overwhelming. "Plmm," you begged, your words barely audible against the bobbing of Geto’s cock, "plmm, plmm, plmm," you continued, your voice growing more whimpered.
"What was that?" Geto asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and prompting your head off his cock, allowing the desperate whines and sobs to slip past your lips.
"P-please," you managed to say, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes.
"Please what?" Gojo asked, slowing down his thrusts and giving your ass another hard smack.
"Fuck!" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks, "please, please, please, I'm begging you," you pleaded looking between the two men, "please let me cum!” Your legs trembled and your body tensed as you fought against every cell in your being that called for release.
Geto let go of your hair and shoved his cock back into your mouth.
"Well, since you begged so nicely," he smirked, and Gojo began his relentless assault on your pussy.
You let out a loud, muffled moan as both of their cocks filled you.
Your mind was completely blank. All you could do was focus on the intense waves of pleasure that crashed through your body, spiraling you into the depths of your orgasm.
"Fuck!" Gojo groaned, the way your cunt pulsed and squeezed his cock sending him over the edge, his hot load painting the inside of your walls.
Geto was next. He threw his head back and gripped your hair tightly in place as his seed spilled into your mouth.
"Fuck, take it, just like that," he moaned.
His praise mixed with Gojo's continued thrusts, and the taste of his cum coating your tongue, sent another shock wave of pleasure through you.
"Mmmm!" you screamed, or at least you would have if your mouth wasn't currently occupied.
Geto looked down at you and his heart skipped a beat.
The way you looked up at him with a hazy, blissful expression, tears in your eyes and cheeks red. You looked absolutely radiant.
"Fuck, so good," Gojo moaned, slowing down his thrusts.
Once the three of you were completely spent, Geto pulled his cock from your mouth and collapsed back onto the bed.
A deep breath released from your lips once your mouth was free. You found your self slumped against Geto’s thigh, eyes shut and in your own world.
"She's perfect," Geto sighed, staring at the ceiling.
"She is," Gojo agreed, slowly pulling his softening cock out of you.
You felt his warmth leave and let out a small whine, suddenly feeling very empty. It was a harsh difference from the complete fullness you felt just moments before.
"Shh," Gojo reassured you, running a hand up and down your back, "just wait a minute. I'm going to get something to clean us up, okay?"
You nodded and managed a small, “Mhm,”
"Come here, sweet girl," Geto coaxed and pulled your head onto his chest.
You gladly took his invitation and let him hold you while Gojo went and grabbed some water and warm towels.
Geto ran his fingers through your hair and planted small kisses on the top of your head, "You were absolutely perfect," he praised.
You smiled and looked up at him.
He was completely flushed and sweaty, but still looked just as beautiful as always. "Thank you," you smiled and kissed him.
The two of you lay there, kissing lazily and whispering praises, until Gojo came back. He walked into the room and smiled, seeing you curled up on Geto's chest.
"Here," he said, handing Geto a glass of water, "let's get her sitting up."
Geto nodded and helped you sit up, propping you against his chest. He held the glass to your lips and you met him half way, bringing yourself up to drink.
"Slow sips, sweet girl," he coaxed and you complied, taking small sips.
"That's it, so good," he praised, making your heart flutter.
"Yes, you did such a good job, baby." Gojo said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "You were so pretty for us, and we're so proud."
He was right, you did a great job.
They were both very happy and pleased with you, and you loved it.
"I'll take care of you, just sit back and let us do everything." Gojo reassured you, taking the glass and setting it on the nightstand.
He handed Geto a towel, then cleaned you off with the other.
"Thank you," Geto said, "for inviting, I mean."
"You're welcome," Gojo replied, "you're always invited. Right, princess?"
You hummed, unable to form proper words, and snuggled back into Geto's chest.
Gojo chuckled and shook his head. He brought another clean towel up to your face and gently wiped away the dried tears and drool. When he was satisfied with his work he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and whispered in your ear, “Go to sleep now, love,”
You smiled and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift off into a peaceful slumber.
Geto held you close, stroking your hair, while Gojo crawled into the bed and wrapped his arms around your waist, his chest pressed into your back and his legs tangled with yours.
Geto was laying beside you, still holding your head on his chest and rubbing gentle circles into your hip.
With the two men holding you so tightly and protectively, it didn't take long for sleep to fully overcome you.
Gojo and Geto followed shortly after.
The three of you spent the night in each other's arms, peacefully sleeping.
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