#BUT TONGS ISN’T??

[angelbesideme]

I’M GOING TO COMMIT A CRIME FOR THIS MAN I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING GOD HELP ME PLEASE I’M LOSING IT

[minimerrymarvelous]

You had a bad day

Bingge makes his way back to the SVSSS universe. Landing himself smack dab in the middle of Cang Qiong Mountain. 

His appearance fools no one and everyone, from the disciples to the stair sweeper, pounces on the trespasser who has the gall to wear Luo Binghe’s face in their sect.

Normally, Shen Qingqiu would throw a fit if they attacked his dreadfully much beloved husband. But… an imposter?

They're fair game.

Cang Qiong Mountain receives some self-care that day.

[ujuro]

I can listen to the most deranged free improvisation albums that most people in their right mind wouldn’t consider to be music and be like “man I love this” (topography of the lung baby) but something as universally well-liked as Godspeed! you black emperor comes about and I’m like “this shit just doesn’t hit idk” 😭

[staplewavy]

this fucking thing btw

+ my favorite doodles cropped

[satoruhour]

Satoru wanting to bang his gorgeous girlfriend but he also gets off on delayed gratification and making her beg so he keeps refusing to fuck her even though she begs for it. When he finally gives in, it’s a wild time!

a/n: this was a ride thank u anon 🫣🫣🫣

warnings: fem!reader, orgasm denial / delayed gratification, pet names, use of ‘slut’, light bondage, begging, fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, implied overstimulation, n*sfw under the cut

a giggle escapes from satoru’s lips when he sees your sweaty chest heave up and down, wrists tied together loosely with some rope to hold you in place. but even that doesn’t prevent you from thrashing around on the bed, face contorting into a desperate plea for him to stop teasing.

“needy lil thing, aren’t you?” gojo hovers over you with his lanky body, perfect physique paired with a pretty face that you always find yourself giving into his ways ever so often. on your desk there’s an essay begging to be finished, and yet with one touch from him, you’re melting into him.

“abandoned your little assignment just for me.”

you’re whining incoherently, making no move to admit to your hormones despite not being gagged. satoru hums in reply, a hand trailing down to your neglected cunt which he’s already edged you twice; he sits on his heels to admire his work.

“i need you to tell me what you want, baby.” you huff out softly, not daring to speak. you settle just for pulling him with your legs instead and he knows what you want, he just likes to make you work for it. gojo smiles upon seeing your frustrated face morph into pleasure when he traces a finger along your folds.

he whistles, “so wettt . . too bad i’m not too sure what my slut wants.”

“’toru— y-you ass!” you scoff out with a choked moan when he teases his finger around your clenching hole. you’ve soaked past the sheets now and all you can do is mumble to yourself in hopes that he’d hear.

“wantyoutofuckme . .”

satoru is insufferable, humming exaggeratedly with a hand to his ear and a shit-eating grin. “what was that?”

you sigh, eyes breaking contact with his because of the sheer embarrassment and he tuts a little in disappointment. despite it, he’s giving it to you bit by bit; one finger in you, and a second, curling it so well that your back arches and you hear the creak of the headboard behind you; your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

“you’ve gotta stop being concerned with people hearing us, sweets.”

you scoff, “yeah, easy for you to say. you’re part of the dormitory counc—!” your own whimper cuts you off when he slaps your pussy, loving the way your juices accentuate the wetness. his fingers move slowly, quelling the dissatisfaction minimally.

“hear this? this pussy is just begging to be fucked . .” gojo pouts, getting real close to your cunt and the hot breath has you squirming before he lifts his hand and punctuates each word with a slap to your clit —

“but.” slap! “she’s.” slap! “not.” slap! “begging.” slap! “right!” slap!

— and it has you moaning out loud each time, tears filling your eyes at the pleasure you’ve been chasing so much and yet isn’t granted to you. you try again, cheeks burning with vulnerability.

“p—please . . satoru . .” again, he teases you, taking his already hard cock and slapping it against your folds. the slick noises make you flustered, but your boyfriend isn’t having any of it — he sees how you bound hands reach out and leans forward to kiss you, grabbing your chin with his hand and forcing you to look at him and he tries to resist fucking you senseless.

“please what? beg.” he knows you’re liking it from how your pussy flutters against his shaft and the neediness of your hips moving into his, and possibly the literal hearts in your pupils. he runs his thumb over your lips, dipping inside and dragging your jaw out that it muddles your words and renders it fairly incomprehensible.

“p . .please, satoru! pleaseplease fuck me—” you press your tongue against his thumb, sucking a little. gojo closes his eyes and swallows momentarily, willing himself not to stare at the drool, “wan’ you deep in me, wan’ your cum spillin’ outta m—!”

“s-shit . .” and satoru swears when he rams into you without warning, and you tense against the bonds at the sensation. his mouth falls open at the first thrust, the constant denied orgasms making your cunt just so slick and sloppy that it’s gross how much of your arousal spurts and sprays everywhere.

“f—full . . s’full!” you babble, fingers barely catching some white strands of his hair because you need something to hold on to, so your lover messily undoes his knots and you’re quick to pull him down for a sloppy, saliva-filled kiss as gojo’s hips stutter and fumble in you, because for as much as he liked to tease you, nothing compared to being in you. “satoru, satoru, satoruuu—!”

“fuckin’ slut, can’t keep her mouth shut o-once— haah . . once she has a dick in her, can she?” gojo taunts you with a laugh, pulling away from the kiss to push your legs to your chest and angles his hips, “how’s this?”

you’re whining loudly into the bedroom, hands scrambling to grab something when his cock reaches the deepest parts of you, cockhead kissing your cervix lightly. with each drag of his length along your gummy walls, it only urges satoru to his high as with you, abruptly drawn out of you when gojo presses his fingers into your clit and you’re clenching so so tightly.

“tha’s it . . cum all over this cock— give it all t’me, sweetheart,” he grunts out, engrossed in the lewdness of it all as his hands only push your plush thighs more and more into your tits and soon enough you’re cumming with the messy circles he leaves on your bundle of nerves.

“y—yes! r-right there, right there!” your brain has turned to mush the moment you reach your climax, body trembling so much from the intensity of it that you don’t realise satoru’s cumming deep in your cunt right after, breeding you until it spills out. you let out a surprised squeal when he flips you over and drags your ass up.

“we ain’t done just yet, darling,” a fitting gift for his baby who’s waited for so long; he smears the cum all around your core, grinding his pulsing, sensitive tip against your entrance and you whine into the sheets. “needa reward you for doing so well.”

request something here

[planet-dusk]

🏷️ lee minho x fem!reader. cw ; dom!leeknow, throat fucking, face slapping (w cock), dacryphilia, degradation, praise, cum eating, name calling: slut, whore, pet names: kitten ( 934 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

the surroundings were different, the motions the same. a hurried shuffle through back doors and glaring illuminated hallways while your heart galloped in your chest with anticipation, post-concert adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

another heavy door and it was just you and him left standing underneath the fluorescent lights. only a few words were spoken: your routine of sing-song praise about his performance followed by a lewd comment on your outfit (you dolled up so prettily for him); a pretense of normalcy before the frantic flurry of hands and teeth. 

“can’t even wait until we’re back at the hotel, such a desperate slut,” minho spat, no less aching than you were despite his tough act. “saw you at the barricade screaming your head off. everyone struggled to keep their eyes off these tits.”

he groped them roughly, then pushed you to your knees. you already knew what was coming and a spark of heat lit up in your core. 

the sound of his belt unbuckling, his tight leather pants sliding down his strong thighs. the sight of them was enough to make your mouth water. not unproud you noticed he was already hard in his boxers. he always put the concert fit back on after cleaning up; he knew what those clothes did to you. they made you want to worship him even more than usual. 

you reached out for him but he slapped your hand away with a laugh. “greedy kitten. don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want. you don’t even have to beg for it today... isn’t that nice of me?”

the taste was familiar and salty, and too big and too much at once — your mouth stretching around his length, drool already pooling at the corners. you choked around him and he sank in deeper, chasing the feeling of your tight throat. you felt another wave of arousal flood your panties and your empty cunt clenched at your pathetic struggle.

“look at you, my own pretty little cockslut,” minho praised while you blinked up at him through your tears, “sucking cock like you were made to do. such a filthy whore.” 

he pulled out and slapped your face with his cock, rubbing the messy mixture of spit and precum over your tear-stained face. you loved how rough he got after a show, letting his mouth run, how he used you like it was his last day on earth. maybe that was what it felt like to perform. he’d been giving his all the whole night; now it was his time to take. 

“tongue out,” he commanded and you obliged without thought, rubbing your thighs together when he let his heavy cock rest on your tongue. it jerked and twitched. the intensity of his gaze was almost too much and your face heated in embarrassment. 

“bet you’re soaked for me, kitten. just from me fucking your throat.” he pushed through and smiled when you gagged around him, letting his fingertips dance over the bump created by the head of his cock before curling his fingers into your hair. “too bad no one’s using that pretty little cunt of yours now, what a waste.” he pressed his shoe against your crotch and you moaned around him, eyes falling shut with pleasure. it was degrading and your face burned even hotter yet you rocked your hips, trying to get some friction. 

“pathetic whore,” minho scoffed and straightened his legs. he used his grip on your hair to move you along the length of his cock. drool leaked down your chin and you were positive anyone walking past would hear the wet gagging noises through the closed door. 

“just like that - fuck,” he hissed. he was babbling now, mixing more praise with his demeaning words, keeping your nose pressed against his pubic bone. you willed your throat to relax, chest heaving when he pulled you back. a long string of spit connected the head of his cock with your lips and you licked it off his tip, relishing in the sweet sounds he made when your tongue brushed over his most sensitive spots. 

minho looked gorgeous like this: head tilted back and his brow furrowed in concentration, traces of his dark stage makeup still visible on his lash line. he let you set the pace and play with his balls for a while, his feline gaze tracking every move. 

“you look so beautiful with my cock on your face, kitten,” he hummed, and you lit up at his praise. “even prettier when you’re cumming on it, though.” a whine escaped your lips and minho grinned. “suck me off and i’ll take you back to the hotel and fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

your clit throbbed at the promise and you put your palms on his thighs, letting him take over again. he bucked into your mouth roughly, chasing his release with faltering thrusts. you felt his cock pulse and twitch before he pulled back and spilled all over your tongue, cum dripping down and leaking onto your chest.

“don’t swallow.” minho helped you onto your feet, your wobble steadied by his arms, and licked into your mouth to taste himself. his thigh pressed hotly against your core and he kissed down your neck to clean up every last drop. he wiped your mascara stains with his thumbs, murmuring praises against your lips. 

“let’s get out of here,” he kissed you one last time before opening the door and dragging you down the hallway, not stopping until you were in the back of the car and he got your pussy wrapped around his fingers.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[bimbo-baggins86]

Just A Fantasy?: Sam Monroe

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CW: 18+ MDNI!!, porn with no plot, smut, masturbation, use of pet names, oral (m receiving), slight dacryphilia, degradation, throat fucking <3<3<3

A/N: For the lovely anon who said I should write more Sam Monroe smut…hope you enjoy <3 //not proofread\\

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Sam’s eyes are screwed shut, his plump bottom lip pulled between his teeth, the labret piercing clicking against them as he fists his dick with feverish desperation. It gets more difficult for him to contain the whimpers and groans threatening to spill out, causing him to bite down harder on his lip.

“Fuck..fuck..c’mon please..please..” He whimpers pleadingly to the mental image of you, his best friend, that he’s conjured up. The porn pulled up in his browser isn’t spurring him on like it usually does.

“Sam? Sam!”

“Yeah baby…y-yeah..just like that..” He grunts, tugging his cock faster, chasing his climax. He’s right there..right there..

“Oh my god! Sam!”

His eyes shoot open in surprise as you walk through his bedroom door, but it’s that extra little jolt he seemingly needed, hot cum spurting out with a loud groan. It dribbles all down his hand, some of it getting on his shirt since his trajectory changed with the surprise. Apparently the calls of his name weren’t just all a fantasy.

Sam’s face instantly goes beet red with embarrassment as he sees you standing there staring at him wide eyed. It’s silent. Minus the over acting moans still coming from his laptop speakers. Quickly he pauses it and slams it shut before reaching for a tissue to clean himself off and tuck himself away. “Sorry,” He mumbles, “you weren’t supposed to see that.” He’d rather you scold him than stay silent. He risks taking a peek at you. Your expression is unreadable to him.

A few more moments of silence pass before he can’t take it. “Say something at least. Please.”

“What were you thinking about?” You ask.

His eyes snap up to your’s immediately. Thats definitely nowhere close to what he expected to hear from you. He had numerous ideas and that didn’t even come close. He knows he’s taking a risk if he answers honestly but you just walked in on him humping his hand like a bitch in heat so all shame is out the window for now. And the fact you haven’t left running for the hills is a good sign.

“You.” His voice nearly cracks with the admission.

The grin that makes its way onto your lips is enough to make his dick twitch again.

“Really?” You ask softly, stepping closer towards him.

He swallows thickly, his eyes trailing over you for a moment before landing back on your face. He nods his head. “Really.”

He has to be hallucinating or maybe he passed out from embarrassment and this is all just a dream because he watches you close the distance between you both and drop to your knees in front of him.

“You could have just asked for my help..” You murmur, eyes admiring the outline in his pants. You look back up to his, “Think you can cum one more time?”

His heart nearly stops. Did he hear you correctly? He doesn’t trust his voice right now so he just nods, his breaths coming out shaky. “Mhm..”

There’s that grin again. He feels like he could explode just watching you pull his dick back out of his pants. He watches how you gaze at it like you’re in awe or something. He whimpers pathetically, wanting to feel your touch finally, now that you’re so close. He strokes your jaw with his thumb gently, “Please baby,” He croaks out, not able to wait any longer now that what he’s wanted for so long is being dangled in front of him.

He watches as you spit into your dominate hand before you delicately wrap it around his thick shaft. His eyelids flutter at the feel. Your pumps start slow and almost torturous drawing it out while pulling more mewls from him. When your hand starts to move faster, his head falls back to rest on his desk chair earning a satisfied groan.

Sam jolts when he feels you run your tongue along the underside of his length over the prominent vein, all the way to the tip, swirling the muscle around it. “Fuck baby,” He breathes sharply through his teeth.

You smile up at him, your tongue still teasing his cock. The sight of you on your knees in front of him is something he’s dreamed about countless times. He makes sure to burn the image into his memory just in case he never gets this again.

He lets out a choked moan as you wrap your lips around his tip, teasing the slit. “..need more..please..” He begs.

You oblige and start to slowly envelope him into your warm mouth. He lets his head rest against the back of the chair once again, letting out a hiss of air.

The pleasure is ripped away just as quickly as he got it though. He shoots forward frustrated, whining. “You’re such a fucking tease.” He growls out.

Before you have time to react he threads his ringed fingers through your hair and forces your mouth down around him, bucking his hips forward at the same time to make you gag around him. “..fuck..” He grunts, your nose is buried in his pubic hair.

His large hands keep your head in place as he continues to snap his hips up into your mouth, bullying your throat. Your drool dribbles out and down his shaft catching in the curly hair at the base. The sound of you gagging on his cock only encourages him further, along with the tears he can see catching in your eyelashes.

“Shouldn’t be such a tease baby,” He grunts, his hips not stopping their assault, “..fuck..I know you can take it though..”

Your hands find their way to his thighs, bracing yourself, nails digging into the flesh. The tears slip down your cheeks, ruining your makeup.

“‘M right there…’nd you’re gonna take it all..” His movements grow sloppier as he reaches climax. “Fuck baby,” He moans right before pulling your head down so his cock is buried in the back of throat, draining his cum right down it. The way it flexes as you gag milks every last drop from him.

“Shit..” he breathes out, pulling you off his overly sensitive length, whimpering. He admires the mess he made of your makeup while caressing your face sweetly with a shaky hand, a stark contrast to his actions seconds ago.

“Was that okay?” You ask, looking almost angelic to him even with the clear evidence of what you just did on your face.

He can’t help but chuckle at your question and he nods his head. “You really have to ask that?” He holds up one of his hands, showing how it’s trembling.

You beam proudly up at him. Sam strokes your bottom lip affectionately with his thumb before leaning forward and capturing them in a kiss, tasting himself on you. It’s safe to say you two are no longer just friends.

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[writingwithcolor]

My alternate universe fantasy colonial Hong Kong is more authoritarian and just as racist but less homophobic than in real life, should I change that?

@floatyhands asked:

I’m a Hongkonger working on a magical alternate universe dystopia set in what is basically British colonial Hong Kong in the late 1920s. My main character is a young upper middle-class Eurasian bisexual man.  I plan to keep the colony’s historical racial hierarchy in this universe, but I also want the fantasy quirks to mean that unlike in real life history, homosexuality was either recently decriminalized, or that the laws are barely enforced, because my boy deserves a break. Still, the institutions are quite homophobic, and this relative tolerance might not last. Meanwhile, due to other divergences (e.g. eldritch horrors, also the government’s even worse mishandling of the 1922 Seamen's Strike and the 1925 Canton-Hong Kong Strike), the colonial administration is a lot more authoritarian than it was in real history. This growing authoritarianism is not exclusive to the colony, and is part of a larger global trend in this universe.  I realize these worldbuilding decisions above may whitewash colonialism, or come off as choosing to ignore one colonial oppression in favor of exaggerating another. Is there any advice as to how I can address this issue? (Maybe I could have my character get away by bribing the cops, though institutional corruption is more associated with the 1960s?) Thank you!

Historical Precedent for Imperialistic Gay Rights

There is a recently-published book about this topic that might actually interest you: Racism And The Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer (note: I have yet to read it, it’s on my list). It essentially describes how the modern gay rights movement was built from colonialism and imperialism. 

The book covers Magnus Hirschfeld, a German sexologist in the early 1900s, and (one of) his lover(s), Li Shiu Tong, who he met in British Shanghai. Magnus is generally considered to have laid the groundwork for a lot of gay rights, and his research via the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was a target of Nazi book-burnings, but he was working with imperial governments in an era where the British Empire was still everywhere. 

Considering they both ended up speaking to multiple world leaders about natural human sexual variation both in terms of intersex issues and sexual attraction, your time period really isn’t that far off for people beginning to be slightly more open-minded—while also being deeply imperialist in other ways.

The thing about this particular time period is homosexuality as we know it was recently coming into play, starting with the trial of Oscar Wilde and the rise of Nazism. But between those two is a pretty wildly fluctuating gap of attitudes.

Oscar Wilde’s trial is generally considered the period where gay people, specifically men who loved men, started becoming a group to be disliked for disrupting social order. It was very public, very scandalous, and his fall from grace is one of the things that drove so many gay and/or queer men underground. It also helped produce some of the extremely queercoded classical literature of the Victorian and Edwardian eras (ex: Dracula), because so many writers were exploring what it meant to be seen as such negative forces. A lot of people hated Oscar Wilde for bringing the concept to such a public discussion point, when being discreet had been so important.

But come the 1920s, people were beginning to wonder if being gay was that bad, and Mangus Hirschfeld managed to do a world tour of speaking come the 1930s, before all of that was derailed by wwii. He (and/or Li Shiu Tong) were writing papers that were getting published and sent to various health departments about how being gay wasn’t an illness, and more just an “alternative” way of loving others. 

This was also the era of Boston Marriages where wealthy single women lived together as partners (I’m sure there’s an mlm-equivalent but I cannot remember or find it). People were a lot less likely to care if you kept things discreet, so there might be less day to day homophobia than one would expect. Romantic friendships were everywhere, and were considered the ideal—the amount of affection you could express to your same-sex best friend was far above what is socially tolerable now.

Kaz Rowe has a lot of videos with cited bibliographies about various queer disasters [affectionate] of the late 1800s/early 1900s, not to mention a lot of other cultural oddities of the Victorian era (and how many of those attitudes have carried into modern day) so you can start to get the proper terms to look it up for yourself.

I know there’s a certain… mistrust of specifically queer media analysts on YouTube in the current. Well. Plagiarism/fact-creation scandal (if you don’t know about the fact-creation, check out Todd in the Shadows). I recommend Kaz because they have citations on screen and in the description that aren’t whole-cloth ripped off from wikipedia’s citation list (they’ve also been published via Getty Publications, a museum press). 

For audio-preferring people (hi), a video is more accessible than text, and sometimes the exposure to stuff that’s able to pull exact terms can finally get you the resources you need. If text is more accessible, just jump to the description box/transcript and have fun. Consider them and their work a starting place, not a professor. 

There is always a vulnerability in learning things, because we can never outrun our own confirmation bias and we always have limited time to chase down facts and sources—we can only do our best and be open to finding facts that disprove what we researched prior.

Colonialism’s Popularity Problem

Something about colonialism that I’ve rarely discussed is how some colonial empires actually “allow” certain types of “deviance” if that deviance will temporarily serve its ends. Namely, when colonialism needs to expand its territory, either from landing in a new area or having recently messed up and needing to re-charm the population.

By that I mean: if a fascist group is struggling to maintain popularity, it will often conditionally open its doors to all walks of life in order to capture a greater market. It will also pay its spokespeople for the privilege of serving their ends, often very well. Authoritarians know the power of having the token supporter from a marginalized group on payroll: it both opens you up directly to that person’s identity, and sways the moderates towards going “well they allow [person/group] so they can’t be that bad, and I prefer them.”

Like it or not, any marginalized group can have its fascist members, sometimes even masquerading as the progressives. Being marginalized does not automatically equate to not wanting fascism, because people tend to want fascist leaders they agree with instead of democracy and coalition building. People can also think that certain people are exaggerating the horrors of colonialism, because it doesn’t happen to good people, and look, they accept their friends who are good people, so they’re fine. 

A dominant fascist group can absolutely use this to their advantage in order to gain more foot soldiers, which then increases their raw numbers, which puts them in enough power they can stop caring about opening their ranks, and only then do they turn on their “deviant” members. By the time they turn, it’s usually too late, and there’s often a lot of feelings of betrayal because the spokesperson (and those who liked them) thought they were accepted, instead of just used.

You said it yourself that this colonial government is even stricter than the historical equivalent—which could mean it needs some sort of leverage to maintain its popularity. “Allowing” gay people to be some variation of themselves would be an ideal solution to this, but it would come with a bunch of conditions. What those conditions are I couldn’t tell you—that’s for your own imagination, based off what this group’s ideal is, but some suggestions are “follow the traditional dating/friendship norms”, “have their own gender identity slightly to the left of the cis ideal”, and/or “pretend to never actually be dating but everyone knows and pretends to not care so long as they don’t out themselves”—that would signal to the reader that this is deeply conditional and about to all come apart. 

It would, however, mean your poor boy is less likely to get a break, because he would be policed to be the “acceptable kind of gay” that the colonial government is currently tolerating (not unlike the way the States claims to support white cis same-sex couples in the suburbs but not bipoc queer-trans people in polycules). It also provides a more salient angle for this colonial government to come crashing down, if that’s the way this narrative goes.

Colonial governments are often looking for scapegoats; if gay people aren’t the current one, then they’d be offered a lot more freedom just to improve the public image of those in power. You have the opportunity to have the strikers be the current scapegoats, which would take the heat off many other groups—including those hit by homophobia.

In Conclusion

Personally, I’d take a more “gays for Trump” attitude about the colonialism and their apparent “lack” of homophobia—they’re just trying to regain popularity after mishandling a major scandal, and the gay people will be on the outs soon enough.

You could also take the more nuanced approach and see how imperialism shaped modern gay rights and just fast-track that in your time period, to give it the right flavour of imperialism. A lot of BIPOC lgbtqa+ people will tell you the modern gay rights movement is assimilationalist, colonialist, and other flavours of ick, so that angle is viable.

You can also make something that looks more accepting to the modern eye by leaning heavily on romantic friendships that encouraged people waxing poetic for their “best friends”, keeping the “lovers” part deeply on the down low, but is still restrictive and people just don’t talk about it in public unless it’s in euphemisms or among other same-sex-attracted people because there’s nothing wrong with loving your best friend, you just can’t go off and claim you’re a couple like a heterosexual couple is.

Either way, you’re not sanitizing colonialism inherently by having there be less modern-recognized homophobia in this deeply authoritarian setting. You just need to add some guard rails on it so that, sure, your character might be fine if he behaves, but there are still “deviants” that the government will not accept. 

Because that’s, in the end, one of the core tenants that makes a government colonial: its acceptance of groups is frequently based on how closely you follow the rules and police others for not following them, and anyone who isn’t their ideal person will be on the outs eventually. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a facade of pretending those rules are totally going to include people who are to the left of those ideals, if those people fit in every other ideal, or you’re safe only if you keep it quiet.

~ Leigh

[coryosbaby]

Fun size - Jake Sully x human! bimbo! Reader

I haven’t watched way of water yet but idgaf Jake been fine since the first movie there’s also no plot so don’t question anything pls & thank u

Summary: Jake loves how small you are.

Warning: mentions of blood, p n v, rough sex, major size kink, tummy bulge, daddy kink, Jake has a big ass monster cock, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, fisting (?), spit kink, degradation/praise, squirting, creampie, dom! Jake, sub! Reader

“you’re hurt!”

It’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth when Jake appears in front of you in the laboratory. A concerned look is etched across your face, as you look down at the na’vi’s bloody palm. The lab is empty, besides you and him; it’s late, and you decided to stay a few extra hours.

He chuckles at your reaction, taking a seat on the tile floor. He’s too big to fit anywhere else in the room.

“I’m okay, honey. It’s just a little scratch,” he assures, as you move over to grab a first aid kit. You roll your eyes, grabbing the red box anyway and sitting down beside him to patch up his wound.

“Then why did you come here?” You ask teasingly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he sighs, mockingly. “Maybe to see my favorite girl.”

You flush, heat rising to your cheeks at his words. And when you begin to wipe away the dried blood with a alcoholic wipe, you begin to speak.

“So how is it? On pandora, I mean.”

Jake hisses at the feeling of the wipe running over his wound. But then he sighs dreamily, tilting his head back. “It’s…wow. It’s great.”

You nod, happy that he’s doing good and liking his new life.

After a moment of silence, you look up at him through fluttering lashes.

“I missed you.”

He looks at you longingly, a soft smile forming on his face.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

You bring out a tube of antiseptic and apply it to his hand. It’s not that bad of a cut, just enough to draw a bit of blood. You grab a bandage and wrap it around his palm. His hand is so big that it takes a good chunk of the covering out of the kit.

Jake smiles when you’re done, and when you look up at him his eyes flicker.

“Kiss it better for me?”

His voice is soft, and questionable. You bite your lip, and grab his hand in yours. His blue skin is warm and inviting.

Your lips come down to kiss the bandaged cut. Soft, and you breathe against his skin as you do it longer than you should. When you pull away Jake’s opposite hand comes up to stroke your hair away from your face.

“You’re so tiny. Do you know that?“

The statement catches you off guard, and you frown.

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all.” he states softly. His hand strokes your cheek in slow circles. “I think it’s perfect.”

You and Jake have had intimate moments like this. Moments before he even became na’vi, when he worked with you and became your close friend. And there was always someone to interrupt that moment.

There isn’t now, though.

And so Jake moves you closer. His hands grab your arms. He’s gentle, as to not disturb his wound. And he pulls you onto his large thighs. You gasp, your legs moving onto either side of his, and it’s hard to do, really. He’s so wide in comparison to you that it causes a mild burning stretch in your groin. He moves closer, his lips warm against your ear.

“Do you feel how big I am?”

You shiver, beginning to squirm in his lap. As he pulls you to his chest.

“W-What?”

“I said..”

He grabs your hand, a small growl emitting from his throat. And, without warning, places your fingertips against his covered crotch.

“Do you feel how big I am?”

A small squeak spills from your lips when he commits the action. His bulge is big. Huge, even. You don’t know how he manages to cover it up with that thin piece of fabric.

“Yes.” You breathe out. His eyes are locked onto yours with a burning and intense desire.

“Kiss me.” He demands.

You obey him instantly, moving up to him and crashing your mouth onto his. You’re desperate, hands moving up to his brunette locks and give them a harsh tug. Jake groans, his tongue sliding into your mouth with ease. He tastes sweet, and his sharp canines scrape against your bottom lip. When he pulls away, it’s because you’re grinding down onto him and making him throw his head back in pleasure.

“Sweetheart..” he moans out.

“You’re so big,” you say, whiny and breathless. “I want you inside me, sir. Want you to be my first.”

“Goddamn, sweet girl. Are you sure you can take it?”

“I’ll take is so well for you, daddy.” You’re moving down to pull the loin cloth off of his dick. As expected, he’s enormous. Bigger than any human could ever possibly be. Fifteen inches and blue, with a slight curve and a long thick vein going right down the middle. The mushroomed tip of him is drenched in sticky liquid. Your mouth waters, as you go to stick your mouth to his girthy length. Licking a stripe up the vein, your eyes roll back when your tongue runs over a string of precum. He tastes divine.

“Good girl,” Jake praises, when you begin to kiss his tip. “Good fuckin’ girl..”

You whimper, and open your mouth wide. He’s too thick to even stick inside your mouth. You make a sound of disapproval at this realization, but that’s quickly forgotten when he’s grabbing your hair, fastening it into a ponytail, and telling you to spit on him. You do, leaving a wet puddle of drool on him. And then he holds you still and begins to hump your face. Your spit rubs against your own skin, and when his balls come in contact with your face your rubbing your open mouth on them desperately.

“Wetting that cock so good, baby, keep doing that. Gotta get you ready so I can stretch out that tight little cunt.”

The thought of his cock cramming itself inside you and stretching you beyond your limits makes you mewl, and although you should be scared to fuck such a big cock, you aren’t. The only thing you can think about is your needy hole being filled with Jake’s hot cum. You pull off of his balls with a pop, looking up at him with pretty Bambi eyes.

“Can you use your fingers on me, daddy?”

“Yeah, honey, yeah,” Jake murmurs. He’s overwhelmed, his face and neck incredibly hot. He brings his own hand to his cock, to relieve the ache of wanting to pummel you until your pussy breaks. “Shit, take that skirt off and lay down.”

You do, unzipping the pink fabric and pushing it, along with your underwear, down. Your pussy is swollen and aching, and when you lay down on the floor Jake pulls you toward him. He grabs your ankles and pulls your legs apart. And when your dripping cunt is revealed to him, he has to stop himself from shoving into you. Your pussy is red, clit swollen and juices trailing down your ass. The curly hair at the top of your snatch is almost adorable. And when Jake watches your little hole clench around nothing, he growls.

“Fuckin’ perfect. A human man wouldn’t know what to do with this little virgin pussy. Would he?”

You shake your head, watching as his index finger runs a stripe up your slit. You squirm, feeling his fingertip begin to sink into your hole. He gets to the first knuckle, and pauses. You furrow your brows in confusion, beginning to whine. He chuckles when he feels you clench around his finger.

“Needy? Haven’t even put a whole finger in and you’re all fucked out.”

“Please, daddy. I need it s’ bad.”

Your begging seems to work, because then he’s sinking it all the way in. And then, without warning, he shoves his middle finger inside of you, too. You cry out, the stretch something you aren’t even used to with your own fingers, let alone his. Wet gushing sounds emit from you when Jake begins to speed up his pace.

“Slutty girl. Look at you, dripping around my fingers, aren’t you? Yeah, fuck that pussy on my fingers, you pathetic slut.”

You mewl, your hips chasing that delicious friction of his fingers rubbing your inner walls. He attempts to squeeze his ring finger in, and when it pops tightly into your stretched hole you gasp out.

“Too much..” you mumble, your eyes shut and tongue lolling out.

“And you say you can take me? Baby, this is only three fingers. I might need to put my whole hand in here to make it fit.”

“Oh, god.” You say. “Jake..”

“I know.” His pinkie ghosts over the rim of your hole. “Think you can fit this in there?”

“I.. I don’t know..”

“It’s okay, sweetness. We’ll make it fit. Won’t we?”

You nod, dazed and confused, your pussy hurting from how good being stretched beyond your limit feels. The tip of Jake’s pinky slips in, and the tight fit feels incredibly snug. But you relax anyway, and it slips in with ease.

You huff, trying to calm yourself down as you drip all over the floor. His thumb is the only finger that isn’t in, and with skill he begins to rub your clit in slow circles.

“Daddy..” you slur. You can feel your orgasm drawing closer, Jake not even moving his fingers inside you but you still quake around the digits. He makes one small thrust into you. He massages a part of your walls that has you fucking into his hand. He smiles as he watches you become desperate for him. And without warning he begins to finger fuck you. Your wetness splashes all around your thighs and onto his wrist, and you a throaty moan pours from your throat. Your walls accommodate to his fingers quickly, and in no time your gaping snatch is being brutally manhandled by his strong hands.

Your eyes roll back, and as he massages your clit your hips surge up and you cum all over his fingers.

Jake grins, a proud smile on his face as you squeeze around him.

“Such a good little girl. That’s it, that’s it, honey.”

When you come down from your orgasm, your head spins from the high of it all. He slowly pulls his fingers out. When you’re empty you can feel your pussy gaping.

You haven’t even got to his cock yet. That’s what goes through your head, as you look at his incredibly large length resting against his stomach. It’s going to destroy you.

This is when you begin to get nervous. Can a vagina even handle that big of a length? It can give birth to babies though, right? So it should be okay..

You’re supposed to be a scientist, but you don’t know.

Jake’s hand on your cheek brings your attention back. It seems you’ve zoned out.

“Stay with me, baby.”

You nod, your hand covering his as you kiss his thumb sweetly.

“‘M here, Jake. I-“ his thumb is brushing over your lip, now, and it makes your head spin. “-I want you so bad.”

“Yeah?”

Your lips wrap around his thumb with ease, and you suckle gently. He groans, his body climbing in between your spread legs. His tip taps your clit, and your legs shake from the stimulation of your overly sensitive button.

“Spread this little pussy for me.” Jake says gruffly.

A whine emits from your throat as your fingers move down and open your lips up for him. His cock rubs up against your slit, and he moves forward to push himself into you.

It’s only the tip, but it still pains you. He leans forward, a grunt leaving his lips as his hands go to the sides of your head. He pushes in a bit more, and you gasp in shock; his girth is the worst (and best) part of it all.

“Daddy.. s’big!” You cry out. “Feels..”

You don’t know how it feels. All you know is that he’s throbbing and spilling warm ropes of precum into your sweet cunt, a burn starting in your pussy because of the stretch. He leans down to your ear, pressing a kiss behind it.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl. Take that dick, bitch.”

His voice is a low whisper, and his roughness surprises you. You definitely don’t hate it, though. And when he pushes into you another few inches, your eyes roll back and tears fill your eyes from the pleasure and pain. You don’t know what’s overtaken Jake, but he’s growling low in your ear as he takes your cunt with all he has.

“Filthy little size queen..” he moans, feeling your tight heat as it wraps around him. “All your good for is being my little cocksleeve. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, oh my god!” Your legs quiver. He chuckles, darkly.

“I’m halfway in.” He states. “Surprised you haven’t split yet.”

He says it so easily, as if he isn’t literally risking your life right now. His gentleness from earlier is gone, now.

“Wouldn’t mind if I did..” you mumble quietly.

He scoffs, amused. “What was that?”

His cock pushes further in. You groan, looking down at watching in awe as your pussy lips stretch obscenely around him.

You yelp when his hand comes down to spank your tits.

“Don’t fuckin’ ignore me. What did you say?” He demands.

“I said I wouldn’t mind if I did!” You repeat, a small moan mixing with your words. “Put it all the way in, daddy, break me, please!”

His eyes turn a shade darker as he bares his fangs at you. “Yeah? You want it all the way? Huh?”

His cock is forcing its way inside you, and he has no mercy as he pushes his dick inside your tight heat. You sob, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks, as he forces your cunt to adjust to him.

“Little pussy’s choking me, fuck.”

You can tell that even now he’s trying to hold himself back a bit longer so he doesn’t actually hurt you.

He pauses at a certain point. It’s like he can practically feel your cervix stopping his cock from entering any further. You’ve taken about twelve inches of his him, and he’s kissing the squishy wall at the very end of your gummy walls. It’s not necessarily a pleasant feeling, but your neediness makes it barely noticeable.

And when Jake looks down, a strangled moan comes out of him. Because there, in that space just below your tummy, the outline of his cock rests inside of you.

“Oh my god…”

He pulls out a few inches, and then presses himself back into that same spot. You whimper, the feeling of him throbbing inside of you igniting a fire in your belly.

Or maybe it’s his cock.

He grabs your throat in a tight grip as he directs your head to look down at the outline of skin that his cock rests under. “See how deep I am, angel?”

“It’s so much..”

“I know. It feels good getting used, doesn’t it? Little girl likes her hole being filled?”

You don’t even aknowledge what he says, just trying to take more even though it hurts. “Fuck me!”

“Patience.” Jake quips, as he pulls out until only the tip is left in you. And then he slams forward, hard and rough, and the sound you let out is almost animalistic. It hurts, but it hurts so damn good.

He begins to pummel your walls, no mercy as his thrusts quicken second by second. He grabs your ankles with his hands and practically bends you in half to watch your ass clench and your needy pussy get torn open by him. When he sees that blood is coating is cock, he begins to growl again.

“Fuckin’ pussy is bleeding. Slutty fucking hole can’t take daddy’s dick, can it?”

“I c-can, sir.”

It’s not true, and you both know it. But the look in your eyes makes Jake not be able to stop. You look too delicious, too fucked out and filthy, for him to stop ramming himself into you. He brings his fingers down to your clit, begins to toy with it, and you sob as your orgasm draws closer.

“Daddy! Pleasepleaseplease..” is all you can say as your high crashes over you and your wetness gushes all around him. He moans, watching your squirt land on his thighs and soak his fingers.

“Good little bitch.” He huffs out. You can tell he’s close, too. His hips are stuttering and his eyes are shut tightly as welcoming cunt takes him.

“Cum inside me, daddy,” you slur. “Fill me up with your hot cum. Need it s’bad..”

“Shit!” His hips still, and your eyes widen as you feel his hot cum squirting against your bruised cervix. His cock pulses as he releases his sticky seed inside your womb. When he stills, your breathing slows and you gently grasp his shoulders. He pulls out, hesitantly, and you let out a small cry when you feel your hole gape around nothing. He notices your shaking thighs.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, satisfied and happy at what just occurred. Jake brings a kiss to your forehead, and you fall asleep right there on the floor, fucked out and dreamy.

When you wake up, Jake is still there, holding you in his arms as he sleeps, too. He never left.

[zombiec]

Cream Puff!! | Getou Suguru

(Readers gender isn’t specified but reader has a dick)

(Getou has a dick it’s just ignored)(I need him doing the splits on my shit idk)

Synopsis ☆: Your favorite police officer comes to your bakery before closing

Warnings: dirty talk, feminization, biting, little bit of a gun kink, marking, begging

It was mid day and you were so so busy. You had a birthday party that you had to make 100 cupcakes for. The color theme was green and purple. You had all 100 made already but you hadn’t put the frosting on any. So you were currently in the kitchen frosting cupcakes, while also trying to keep up with people who come in. You work at your bakery alone, it was kind of small in the first place, so you didn’t see a need in hiring anybody.

You were almost done with the cupcakes you just needed to frost the other 20. You heard the bell at the front,dusting off your hands and trying to look presentable you walk up to the front. You see nanami a customer you usually see. “Hi what can I get for you today” he smiles a little “can I get 2 cream puffs” you smirk a bit “stop being so dirty minded” he said you grabbed the tongs and went to get his cream puffs “who said I was thinking dirty” you looked at him while putting his treats in a paper blue baggie. You grabbed napkins and handed it to him “Thank you for coming sir I hope you come again soon~” you said that last part a little flirty. He flushed a bit, grabbed his cream puffs and left.

The sky was a mixture between orange and yellow indicating the day is almost over. You finished the cupcakes 2 minutes ago, leaving them in the fridge so whoever comes to pick them up tomorrow will have them fresh. You were doing a bit of cleaning because it was almost time for you to close up. Perking up at the sound of the bell ringing at the front of your bakery, You walked up ready to tell them that you just threw out all the sweets you had in the front for the night so that you could make fresh ones in the morning.

You walked up to the front only to be surprised when you see Getou. You and Getou have a bit of history, you two always flirts but it doesn’t go anywhere past that. Getou Is scared because as a police officer a lot of people hate him, and he feels that if you two get together then people will start coming for you. You try to tell him that you can handle yourself, because you can. You’re a little bigger than Getou muscle wise, but height wise you’re basically towering over him. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out though, he wants to get fucked by you so bad. You are just so tempting.

You walked up to the counter smirking “well hello officer” Getou smiled and leaned against the counter “hi my favorite baker~” he flirted back. “What do you need” you asked looking him up and down. He looked good. His long hair that you just wanted to pull on flowing down his back. Hes in his police uniform that accentuated his hips and his ass you just wanna tear that uniform off him and have him bouncing on your- “ummm” the sound of getous voice made you look up. He was looking at the menu trying to figure out what he wants.

“Can I get some brownies” you nodded and Told him “it might be a while because I have to make a fresh batch.” “Awe a new batch just for me” you rolled your eyes “no I just threw out the ones that’ve been out all day” you were about to walk to the back to begin until you heard Getou say something “what was that?”you asked “can I come back there and help you?” The way he looked at you was kind of Mischevious, like he was planning on doing something sneaky. “Okay come on” he walked through the little door to the kitchen and you both started to prepare for the brownies.

All of the ingredients were in the bowl now it was time to stir. “Can I do it” Getou said. All he’s been doing is talking your ear off so it’s best if you put him to work. You handed him the bowl and he stepped right infront of you. He started mixing but he did it too gently. “Like this?” He asked questioningly. You went up close behind him and grabbed his hand that was holding the whisk, guiding his hand to whisk the brownie batter harder. “Yea just like that” ‘oh my godd’ Getou couldn’t even focus on mixing the batter anymore. The way you huskily spoke so close to his ear he just wanted to get fucked now.

You let go of Getou going to get the pan for the brownies. “Oh my goodness I almost forgot” you said “what?” He replied. You grabbed chocolate chips from the drawer and dropped some into the bowl. “To make it more chocolately” looking at Getou not realizing how close you two were. You looked at his lips, pink, fat lips that were just waiting to be sucked on. Wanting to calm some of the rising tension in the kitchen, You cleared your throat taking the bowl from Getou. You poured the brownie mixture onto the pan and put it in the already preheated oven. Getou sighed and sat down on the counter. You raised your eyebrow at him “Get your ass off my counter” and slapped his thigh. He jumped a bit enjoying the slap a bit too much.

He bit his lip and ignored what you said. It was silent for a few until he spoke up. “Do you sell cream pies?” You blinked and looked at him. “No” “well you should” he responded. You went over to him and placed your arms on each side of him. “Why should I?” You said leaning closer to him. Getou couldn’t take the tension anymore, he brought his hands to the back of your neck bringing you even closer to him. He wrapped his legs around your waist bringing your front closer to his ass. He felt you. It was through your pants but he could tell you were big. “Because I really really want one”

You smashed your lips onto getous, making him arch his back into the kiss. He fully wrapped his arms around your neck and you bit onto his lip making him moan. You kissed down to his neck and started leaving marks. “Sto~ don’t leave any marks~” “no those bitches in your office are gonna know how much of a slut you are” Getou tightened his legs around your waist.

“Please~ I want it so bad” ‘godddd’ his desperateness was turning you on so much you just wanted to be buried deep inside him already. “What do you want Getou” you whispered in his ear. “I want you, I want you in me. I want you to fuck me so hard. Own me” you immediately went to pull his pants off he assisted you in doing so. When he got his pants off you saw what he had on and your eyes widened. He had on dark purple lace panties. You pulled on the hem and it snapped against his hip. “Mmm~” you look up at him and he’s blushing so hard and trying to cover himself.

You move his hands away and speak up. “ you planned this out didn’t you? You came in here wanting to get fucked like a whore? You want to be my personal glory hole?” Getou almost came at your words. Being your personal glory hole sounds amazing. Just being used like nothing but a hole. He was drooling at the thought. You slapped his thigh “Answer me” he looked at you with hazed eyes with a little drool coming out his mouth. “Yes..just wanna be your glory hole”

You ripped off getous panties and he gasped. “Those were my favorite pair” your eyes widened. “Pair? You have more?” Getou rolled his eyes and nodded. “You gotta show me later” and before he could respond you pushed yourself into him. “FUCKKKK” Getou yelled out arching his back. He couldn’t believe how much you were already stretching him out and you only had the tip in. You kissed up his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist.

You pushed further into him and Getou kept moaning and leaning his head back. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight baby~ you ready for me to fuck this boy pussy of yours.” “Yes hurry up” you looked at him with your eyebrow raised. “Please sir” your dick twitched. You did a test thrust up into him making him let out a small whimper. You started moving a bit faster causing Getou to let out small breathy moans.

You grabbed his thighs and started fucking into him harder. “SHITTT FASTER FASTER PLEASE” you obided by his request and fucked him at a rapid pace. You leaned down to his neck and bit directly into his sweet spot. “ah~ I can’t I-I can’t hold it in.” “You better fucking hold it in” you whispered harshly in his ear. Getou whined and you spread his legs wide open, putting his leg up on your shoulder making him lean halfway off the counter. You fucked into him watching as his head dangled off the counter hearing him cover his mouth trying to silent his moans. You weren’t about to have that. You slapped his hands away from his mouth “I wanna hear your whorish moans don’t try to hide them from me.”

Getou wanted you to cum in him so bad. He just wanted to make you cum with just his hole. He clenched down onto your dick which was exactly what you needed as you filled him with your seed. “Fuck you” you didn’t want to cum first. Getou chuckled and you groaned and rolled your eyes. You look to the left of Getou and realize his belt was there that had his accessories, including his gun. With Getou not paying attention you thrust into him hard to catch him off guard. He yelped and held onto your shoulders, when all of a sudden he felt the tip of something touch the side of his temple. He looked a bit and saw it was his gun. In your hand.

“What if I just blew your fucking brains out right now” Getou didn’t know if he could hold it in anymore. He knew you’d never shoot him..but did he really? You could shoot him at any time and he’d die with your dick inside of him. “You ready baby? You wanna cream on my cock?” “FUCK YESSS” he said and leaned up dripping onto your shirt. “Go ahead baby” he came so fucking hard. ‘Can’t believe he came with a gun held up to his head.’ You put the gun back next to his belt. Getou was hugging you and you gently caressed his hair. “You did a good job baby are you okay?” Getou smiled and chuckled. “I’m amazing” but then he pouted. “Can I get a kiss?” You kissed his lips and he moaned a bit.

Just as you guys were going to get into it the oven rang with the brownies inside. “Perfect timing”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Ts kinda ass tbh

But anywayyyy this is for the person who requested sub Getou >.<!!

Thank you guys for supporting btw it’s so sweet

[angelbesideme]

thankhun i could be the leader but i’m too busy being iconic theerapanyakul 🍷

KINNPORSCHE THE SERIES: episode 9

[b0ng05]

Sam Carpenter x F! Reader - Mornings Like This MDNI 18+

Word Count: 2013

Prompt: Sam Carpenter and her girlfriend being silly and making breakfast.

Warnings: Strap-on, a little bit of degradation, poor jokes I wrote in when I was stoned.

Also, not Proofread. Masterlist

I woke up to a crack of light peering through my curtains. The light blinding my eyes for a few seconds as I rub the sting away. I take a deep breath, stretching out my stiff limbs. As I arch my body in an ‘Excorcist’ type way, I catch a glimpse of Sam sleeping beside me. She laid on her stomach, a pillow tucked between her arms and head. Her dark hair sprawled out wildly along the pillowcase. A bit of drool pooling from her chin to the fabric as she slept. Half of the covers thrown from her body, assumably from her getting too warm at night. Most of her back on display as she usually slept in her sports bras, last night being no acception. I smile as I begin to climb out of bed, deciding to wake up Sam with breakfast, despite my poor cooking skills. As I stand up, the fluffy covers fall from my body, leaving me cold. Being too lazy to search the floor for my shirt, I walked to the kitchen. The cold air didn’t end in my bedroom, the thin fabric of my bra not doing much for my temperature.

I walked over to the cupboard, grabbing out a pan and two plates. I grabbed out the bacon and eggs from the fridge. I decide to start on the bacon first, knowing that I sucked at multitasking. Cutting open the package, I throw some bacon on the pan, hearing the initial sizzle and smiling, thinking about how great a cook I am. What I didn’t think about was what the sizzle meant. Within a few minutes, I’m being shot with bacon grease. Every second was me hissing in pain and cussing out the bacon for being such a rude bitch. With each insult, the bacon fought back, for each cuss, a shot of bacon grease to the tit.

“We have shirts, and aprons. You are aware of that right?” I hear a raspy teasing chuckle from behind me, and the feeling of strong arms wrapping around my bare waist. I smile as I feel her lips pressing against my neck in a tired yet loving way. “I’m aware, but I was gonna bring you this in bed, and then ask for you to kiss my bacon burns better.” I tease back, leaning into her touch as I use the tongs to take out some of the finished pieces. “Oh really? And where are these bacon burns?” Sam playfully pokes my side, her voice filled with sleep. I giggle and turn off the stove top as I finish up cooking. “Got a lot on my boobs,” I tease, not missing the mischevious glint in Sam’s eyes as they drift down to my chest. I playfully slap her shoulder, “My eyes are up here,” I tease, Sam chuckles, kissing my cheek. “ Also, what are you even doing up this early? I wanted to surprise you.” I pout up at her, trying to fight a grin that pricked my lips. “Well, I heard you cussing out the bacon. Did you seriously call the bacon, ‘Fucking whore, bitchwad’? What does that even mean?” Sam grins, her eyebrow quirking up. I sheepishly look up at the ceiling, which was a mistake due to Sam’s taller height. She easily grabs my chin, tilting my face towards her, my cheeks a blushing red. “Listen- the bacon just isn’t cool like that.” I sigh, smiling as I hear her laugh. “God, you’re a dork.” Sam whispers and pauses before kissing me. Her lips pressing against mine in a soft loving way. We pull apart, our foreheads pressing against each others. She lets out a content sigh before whispering softly,

“Please let me finish cooking. That bacon didn’t do anything wrong,” She peeks her eyes open, a mischievous smirk on her lips. “Oh woww, seriously taking the bacon’s side?” I let out a playful scoff, glaring up at her. “There was no witness to testify otherwise,” Sam quipped, a grin on her lips as she slips one of the aprons out of the drawer, tying it around her body. “The red skin on my tits says otherwise!” I huff, taking my seat on the countertop. Sam smirks and holds out her hand for the spatula that sat beside me, I playfully and passive aggressive pass her the spatula with a heavy sigh. “Oh really~? Care to let me see the evidence, preferably in full view, minus the bra.” She hums, glancing at me with a grin. I playfully roll my eyes, playing into her little game. “I actually might need you to do it. Wouldn’t it be corrupting evidence if you let the plaintiff do such a thing?” I giggle, leaning back against the cupboards as I watch Sam cook the eggs.

“Oh, very good point. I think you’re right. Let me just-” Sam smirks, turning off the burner before stepping between my legs. Her hands caressing my thighs, “May I~?” She teases, lifting one hand to snap one strap of my bra. “Go ahead, find the evidence,” I tease, giggling a bit. Sam bites her bottom lip as she slips my bra over my head. She pauses, licking her lips as she eyes my bare chest. “I don’t see any marks yet,” Sam playfully teases. I smirk, running one of my hands through her hair. “What do you mean yet? I already cooked the bac-” My breath hitches as she leans down, her tongue tracing along my breast before she sucks down, her eyes looking up into mine as she leaves a hickey on my chest. Her tongue running along the red mark soothingly before she kisses the spot. “Now we can sue the bacon,” I joke, looking at the mark on my chest. “How? I made it.” Sam chuckled, her hand moving up to grope at my chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of faking evidence, with a blind and senial enough jury, we could totally have a lawsuit on our hands.” I giggle, leaning in to kiss her jaw. Sam laughs, her other hand trailing my spine. “Remind me to never let you be my lawyer.” Sam nods, leaning in to kiss my collarbone. “Hey! I’d be a great lawyer, I’m pro-bono!” I laugh, Sam’s kisses end abruptly as she chuckles. “Oh really? You’d take my case for free?” Sam teases, moving her hands to playfully squeeze my waist. “Of course.” I nod, ”And I’m feeling especially pro-bono at the moment, so if you take me back to our room, I will take your case, and I’ll take it so well.” I tease, my tone both on the verge of laughing and still trying to drift seductive.

“How big of a case are we talking here~?” Sam teases back, lifting me off the counter as she begins to walk us back to our room. “5 month long trial, 7 month, 10 if I’m feeling a bit ambitious-” I laugh, leaning in to kiss her neck. “If you’re this pro-bono, should I be worried about other clientel?” Sam teases, gently laying me on the bed and pining me down. My hands tangled up with one of hers near the pillows. “I’m more of a private personal lawyer, you know you’re my one and only client.” I whisper, leaning up to kiss her neck. “Good girl,” She smirks, “Stay put,” She demands, before getting out of the bed and walking to our closet. After a minute, she comes out naked, with a 7 inch strap around her hips. She saunters up to the bed, standing at the foot as I look at her helplessly, my thighs clenching as she smirks down at me. “Now,” She moves to loom over me, “I don’t intend to waste the breakfast you so kindly started for me, so I’m gonna go fast, and you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are,” Sam whispers, gently biting my neck as her hands move to tug down my shorts and panties. I shiver as the cold air of the room reaches my core with Sam spreading my legs. She reaches down, running her fingers along my slit before slipping two into my core with ease. Her fingers showing no mercy as she begins speeding her movements, her thumb playing with my clit. She smirks down at me, watching as I use all my willpower to keep my hands above my head where she left them.

“Taking my fingers so well~” She whispers, kissing along my neck. The heat in my core begins to build, but before I can reach a satisfying release, she pulls her fingers from my core. “Let’s see how well you can take my cock,” She teases, her hand, wet with my juices, reaches down and jerks the silicon dildo, spreading my slick along it. She positions the head at my entrance, pushing in with no hesitation. My mouth falls into a silent cry as she stretches me out, each inch writhing my body with pleasure. My hands accidentally leave the pillow, clutching around her shoulders. As she bottoms out inside me, she gives me a second to get used to the intrusion. “What did I say?” She hums, grabbing my hands and pining them back down with one hand. She gives a particularly harsh thrust at the disobedience. I let out a loud moan, the stretch aching a bit, but the pleasure far overrode it. “T-to stay put,” I mumble, to which she leans down and gently bites at my chest. “I can’t hear you, honey,” Sam whispers. I let out a soft moan as she attaches her lips around my nipple, her tongue swirling around it. Her hips slowly and gently swirling as she hums, waiting for an answer. “To stay put,” I say through a breathy moan. She chuckles softly, her free hand groping at my other breast as her mouth moves to kiss my neck. “Are you gonna stay put or am I gonna have to let that breakfast go to waste?” Sam teases, being to thrust at a slightly faster pace, but nothing to push me anywhere close near the edge. “I’ll be a good girl, Sammy,” I whisper, my tone a bit desperate as I bite down on my lower lip. My eyes drifting to where our bodies connect. Watching as she begins to thrust faster, the sight of her sinking her strap deep inside me. Her hand moves from my breast to my chin, making me meet her eyes as she speeds up. “You like seeing me wreck you baby~?” Sam smirks, her tone a bit breathless. Her eyes a dark with lust as she goes harder, making me let lose a whorish moan. “Of course you do,” She lets out a soft groan as angle rub the strap back against her clit. “Such a slut for me, such a good fucking girl,” Sam growls, giving a harsh thrust with each statement. Pulling out till just the head was at my entrance before thrusting fully back in. Leaving me breathless and writhing beneath her as I hold her hand with mine above my head. “Gonna cum, Sammy~!” I moan loudly, my thighs beginning to tremble with the force and pleasure of her thrusts. “Cum for me, baby,” Sam lifts one of my legs onto her shoulder and increases her pace, letting out soft grunts and groans as the strap rubs better against her clit at the new angle. “Be a good girl and cum on my strap.” I let out a loud moan as the heat in my stomach explodes, my cunt pulsing around her strap as she fucked me through my orgasm. I tug my hands from her grasp and wrap them around her shoulders. “How about I order breakfast?” Sam suggests sedutively, still a bit breathless. I let out a small chuckle and smirk up at her mischeviously, “What? Pro-bono?” I joke with a giggle, but that’s ended quickly when Sam presses the strap deeper, making me all the more aware of my current place.

[galaxybooper]

The legend, the greatest of all time, Vincent Tong has answered three questions. After being granted permission, I happily yeet this post into the fandom. I want to note that the questions and answers are copied directly from the Cameo DM. There is no rewording. The more personalized question is hidden below for those who are not interested. Enjoy!

Question: "My first question is what do you think Kai would wear when he's not in his ninja gi? I know during the show we have some outfits Kai wears but as the voice actor, I wanted to ask what is your take on Kai's fashion style?"

Answer: "That’s a good question. Since Kai fancies himself as a ladies man, he is very aware when he’s out and about town. I can see him being very colour coordinated, in red of course, in case anyone isn’t aware he’s the elemental master of Fire 🔥 For casual wear he would rock a red tracksuit with with a sleeveless hoodie, to show off his muscles of course. And if he was to dress up a bit, I could see him wearing a sparkle red suit that would change colour if heated it up by his fire powers!"

Question: "My next question is about the scar on his right eye. My apologies if you have already answered this question before during a Q&A but I am curious. Do you have any takes on how Kai got that scar or why he has that bandage too? Is it another scar? And did Kai always have this scar or did something happen before the events of the Sons of Garmadon season that caused the scars?"

Answer: "My answer to this is kinda lame, cause I actually was never told the origins of the scar. I think it was a design decision to make Kai stand out. But if I had to create a story: He was going pee in the middle of the night and hit head on the bunk bed Nya and him shared as kids. But he would never admit that to anyone. He’d say he got it from defending a poor street dog from other giant bully streets dogs. Kai walked away with a scar but those street dogs walked away with greatest lesson of all: You play with Fi-yah, you’re gonna get burned 🔥🔥"

Question: "My last question right now for you is this. You mentioned before Ariel was your first crush as a kid. If Kai ever met Ariel, what would that interaction look like? What would Kai think of Ariel?"

Answer: "Oooo good question! Well Kai would right away blush so hard seeing Ariel. His hair might even catch fire a bit, cause she’s so pretty! And she would point out that both their hair is red🔥🤭 He would use a cheesy line like ‘Whoa are those fins, cause you’ve been swimming around my mind all day!’ Ariel can’t talk cuz of that mean sea witch, but she would giggle silently at Kai trying so hard to be cool! I think they would prob hang out eating ice cream to help him cool off. He would try to make Ariel laugh and anything she did would just make him blush more ☺️ I think they would make a great pair! 💕💕🧜‍♀️🔥"

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 4.0k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!gojo, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names (mama, baby), pull out method, oral (f!receiving), talks of having kids and starting a family, ooc!gojo(?)

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ Gojo seems like he’d be so good with kids! He’s all but adopted Yuuji and actually adopted Megumi. That man would be a great dad.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

Gojo loves coming home to his apartment smelling like you. His penthouse always has a certain smell to it. Cleaning chemicals courtesy of his maid that dusts away the cobwebs while he’s out of town, and the deep floral scent of his cologne that you love so much. But underneath the artificial smell of wood polish and his signature expensive fragrance is something innately you. 

He can smell your perfume and hear your voice before he’s even kicked off his shoes in the entryway, mumbling through the lyrics of some song as the apartment warms with the smell of your cooking. Gojo has isn’t much of a chef by choice, prefering to eat out or order in, and he’s never really bothered to buy proper groceries. His cabinets are filled with cereals and chips and his fridge is a rotating stock of sugary drinks and sometimes fruits if he remembers to pretend to care about a more balanced diet. Really he has people that buy food for him. His maid or someone else–he never really noticed their salaries leaving his bank account so it really doesn’t matter. They try to leave him with something proper to eat. Meat and vegetables, food that’s actually healthy. Usually he ends up tossing it as the meat spoils and the vegetables rot but you’ve decided to help yourself to whatever he has left, standing over the stove armed with a pair of tongs. 

He wonders how long you’ve been here. He guesses a while since you’ve had time to make yourself comfortable and start cooking. He recognizes the shirt hanging down to your thighs as one of his, plain white and slightly worn–just the type of thing you’d like to steal from him because you like just how good he smells. It’s cute. You’re cute as you swing your hips to the song playing in your earbuds, tending to your cooking without a care in the world. He leans against the island that smells sharp and citrusy and smiles at your thoroughness. Already cleaned the counter to avoid those pesky uncooked chicken germs. You pick up each marinated piece with a gloved hand, fishing the cooked chunks out of the pan to be set aside. 

It’s heart wrenchingly domestic the way you’re always so diligent in the kitchen, attention divided between so many tasks at once. Your gloved hand mixes the bowl of uncooked chicken bits, trying to spread the seasoning on every piece because you hate eating bland food, while your other hand flips the pieces sizzling in the pan. It makes Gojo want to see you occupied even further. It’s mean to want it for you when you always whine about not yet, Satoru whenever he tries to bring up the topic of kids. But, fuck he wants to come home to you just like this with a baby on your hip and another, only a year or two older, hanging onto your leg as your pregnant belly bumps against the edge of the stove. His dick jumps, thickening with excitement at the idea of you having his babies, making you a mama. You deserve it and he knows you want it, too. No matter how much you whine and squirm when he says he’s going to cum inside you. 

Breathy whimpers of, Satoru, no! as you try to sound stern even when you’re bouncing on his cock, greedy pussy sucking him in as he pulls out to fill you with another deep thrust. You get to cream on his dick whenever you want, pussy frothing white rings around his base as he folds you up and fucks you good but he can’t even cum inside, not even once. He could be mean and make you take it, keep bullying your insides even after you cum until you’re crying on his cock and leaking his cum so he can laugh at the tears sparkling in your eyes. 

He watches your ass bounce as you dance, oblivious to his arrival. You’ve got those little black shorts on. The kind that cling tight to your curves and he groans, eyes rolling back behind his tinted glasses. You’re torturing him on purpose, you have to be. There’s no other reason for you to look so fucking perfect right now. You reach over to pick up a piece of lettuce, chewing on the edge of the leaf as you finally catch sight of him in your periphery. He watches you startle, lettuce leaf hanging from your mouth as your eyes widen. Like a goddamn bunny caught in the sights of a wolf. Soft cheeks and bright eyes as you smile and shove the rest of the lettuce into your mouth. 

“Satoru!” You beam at him like you’ve never been happier to see anyone in your life and it makes him melt, folding over the counter to groan his desperation into the cold granite. Fuck! He can imagine what your babies will look like. They’ll be chubby ’cause mama will feed them so well. Fat cheeks and pudgy little arms that’ll cling tight to you whenever you hold them. He wants to see your nose, your lips, your everything in their faces. He couldn’t care less about passing on any of his genetics when he just wants to make more little yous that reach for him when he comes home, little hands opening and closing in his direction while you smile and welcome him home just like you are now. 

“I’m making chicken.” You say, half facing him so you can tend to your cooking and look at him at the same time. 

“Uh huh,” he says dumbly because he’s not really listening. As sweet as it is hearing you tell him about your day he’s just focused on the shape of your lips and the way your nipples poke through the thin fabric of your–his!–shirt. He wants to get his mouth on them. Shove the shirt up under your arms so he can fill his mouth with your tits. He wants to see you squirming as you rub your thighs together, panties soaked as he tugs at your nipples. He wants to tease you with coy quips of “feels good, mama?” as he pries your legs apart so he can rub at your little clit and make you cum with his fingers in your pussy. You’ll be so good for him. Shaking and nodding, trying to muffle your voice behind your hand as you pretend you don’t like when he plays so messily with your chest, slobbering over the soft skin as his tongue flicks over the sensitive little peaks of your nipples. You like it. You love it. Always complaining but cumming the hardest when he’s messy with you. He’ll eat you out after you cum, fingers on your sore clit getting replaced with his lips as he sucks the sensitive nub into his mouth, teeth grazing softly, just enough to make you yelp and tug at his hair as he swallows down your slick. 

Gojo’s hard on is nearly painful in his sweatpants but you can’t tell as you remain on the other side of the island, oblivious to the way he’s palming at himself as you complain about one of your coworkers. Something about fucking up inventory and stealing commissions. 

“You can quit, mama. I’ll take care of you.” His voice is light with amusement but he’s dead serious. He knows you like working, like having something to do with your time. You have friends and a life, an apartment of your own that he absolutely loathes. Why can’t you just live here with him when he so clearly wants to spend all his time spoiling you. Spoiling the pretty little babies you’ll make with him. 

“I like my job, Satoru.” You remind him as you turn off the burner and carry the food over to the island. He hopes you’ll come sit down next to him and catch him touching himself. His cock is drooling in his pants at the mere sight of you. Instead you decide to stand across from him, filling lettuce leaves with rice and chicken and pickled vegetables before shoving the huge bite in your mouth. Your cheeks fatten and he leans forward to poke them, cooing over how cute you are. 

Cute mamas make cute babies and he knows yours will be tooth-rottingly adorable if you just. Let. Him.

“I can give you a new job.” He promises. “Being a mommy is a full-time job. I can make you a mama and you won’t have to worry about anybody bothering you. Promise.” He’s desperate. This isn’t the first time he’s asked and it’ll be far from the last. He won’t stop until you’re saying yes and he’s bending you over and filling you up how you deserve. You laugh, far past being annoyed that he’s so insistent. He imagines it’s hard for you not to find his desperation funny when Gojo Satoru has never wanted for anything in his life. Nothing but you, and now your babies. He wants them. He’ll wait for them. 

“In a little bit, Satoru. We’ve got time, we don’t have to rush it.” But he wants to rush it. And is it really rushing if he’s been thinking about it for months. Sure, you’re young but he wants babies. Plural! He wants to have at least three of them. Maybe four or five if you’ll let him. As many as he can breed you for. He’ll fill you up until you start begging for him to pull out again every time he fucks you and then he’ll go back to pouting as his babies get older with no new additions to the family. He wants a litter, a ridiculous amount. The kind of family that needs a minivan and maybe a nanny to help manage all your little babies. He has the money, you know he does. He can afford it but you’re just so mean and patient about it. Gojo can be patient but he really doesn’t want to be when it comes to you. 

He can never wait to get home to see you, can’t wait to get you in bed, can’t wait for your future together. He wants it now, now, now! but he lets you say no. Of course he does. He knows it’ll be a yes someday when you decide you’ve tortured him enough. You’ve already said you want lots of kids or else why would he even consider the thought. You’re so mean to him. Planting that thought in his head and letting it grow like a weed so now he’s always thinking about baby names and maybe buying a house with a big yard and a dog for the kids to play with. 

Fuck, you drive him insane. Smiling sweetly like it isn’t your fault he’s already thinking about nursery colors and the safest model of car. He’s a bit lax with looking after himself but he’ll make damn sure to take no chances taking care of his family. He eats the food you made, legs spread to relieve some of the tension as he watches you pack the rest of the food up and put labels on each container. It makes him think about packing lunches for school and he pushes away his half eaten plate to drag you to bed. 

He kisses you when you complain that he hasn’t finished his food, that he must be hungry ’cause he just got home and it makes his cock hard all over again. It went soft as he was listening to you tell a story about a rude customer while he mused about family safe pets and what to name them. That wholesomeness is gone in an instant as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, swallowing your protests as spit starts to leak from the corners of your mouth. Because how can you still be so cutely attentive when he’s been giving you pointed looks over the edge of his glasses, tongue poking into his cheek in the way he does only when he’s thinking about stripping you out of your clothes. You’re babbling about price matching and expired coupons while he’s trying his best to remind himself that he can’t knock you up and give you a new little person to take care of the moment he gets you on his dick. But fuck does he want to. 

And you’re not making it any easier for him. Pawing at his shoulders and asking what’s got him so worked up like you don’t just need to exist in his proximity for his mind to start melting into thoughts of giving you his cock just the way you like. The bed is made and he knows he hadn’t done it before he left and his maid wasn’t scheduled to come through until next Wednesday. So fucking perfect. Tidying the house and making food so he’d have something nice to come home to but he’s not supposed to reward you with his cum spilling out of your little pussy? Yeah, okay. 

“Need you.” He mumbles as he pushes you down on the freshly fluffed pillows. “Need you so fucking bad, mama. You’ll let me, yeah? I can have you, right, baby?” You nod, murmuring, “I’m all yours, Satoru” as he pulls your shirt over your head and shoves those tight little shorts down your thighs. You’re not wearing panties and he nearly creams in his pants at the way your puffy little pussy is already shiny with arousal. Just some kisses and sweet words and you’re already dripping for him. Gojo groans, feeling grateful to have you because who else could be this perfect for him. He tosses his glasses aside to look at you properly. All wet lips and eager smiles as you wait for him to take care of you in the way only he can. He’s sure you’re gonna kill him someday. 

He gets his mouth on your tits just like he wanted, groaning at the taste of your skin as he sucks on the pert little bud. Your breath hitches and the little sound would’ve sent him to his knees if he wasn’t laid out on top of you like a weighted blanket, leg slung over your squirming thighs as he makes a mess of your tits. Licking and sucking each one until they’re both wet with his spit and you’re shaking on the edge of an orgasm. He lets you have it, looking down to watch the way your thighs tremble pitifully as your pussy clenches around nothing. It’s fucking hot and he shoves his pants down his hips just enough to squeeze at his cock, flushed a deep angry red from how long he’s been neglecting it. 

Gojo groans against the plushness of your breast, breathy little pants puffing over your abandoned nipples as he jerks off like he’s never seen tits before. He cums fast, spilling over your tummy in short streaks. It’s pitiful but it takes the edge off enough for him to treat you the way you deserve. His shirt is tossed aside as he mouths at your tummy, licking up the mess he made so he can share his taste with you. He’s already half hard again as you suck on his tongue. He spits in your mouth just to hear you yelp and wiggle like you don’t get stars in your eyes when he treats you dirty. Your thighs are clenched tight, knees knocking as you try to find some relief in the meager friction. Gojo bullies your legs apart as he leaves hot, wet kisses down your body. Prints of his lips shining down your sternum and over the softness of your tummy. He takes extra time to love on it, nuzzling against you because that’s where his babies are gonna go. 

He can’t wait for it. The bump of your belly and swelling of your tits. He knows you’re gonna complain–rightfully so!–about your sore back and swollen ankles and he’ll be there to coo and cajole you into being nicer to yourself as your body changes to accommodate the new life you’re growing for him. He grinds against the bed as he noses his way between your legs. Your thighs snap closed around his head as he tongues you from fluttering hole to twitching clit and he moans. All he can smell, feel, hear is you as your hips buck up into his greedy mouth. 

Gojo throws an arm over your hips and you fall still immediately under his strength but he can still feel the little aborted shifts of your weight that make him laugh against your cunt. He thumbs back the hood of your clit and he makes a show of sucking hard on the little nub, watching your eyes flutter and back arch as you gush around his fingers. He doesn’t stop even as you cream on his tongue, slicking up his face with your cum. He pulls away with a lewd pop! and smacks his lips ’cause he knows how much you hate when he does that. 

His smile is shiny and cruel as his fingers hook against your gummy walls, still pulsing as he drags the pads of his fingertips over that sweet spot. Your lips part but you have no breath in your lungs to make any noise and Gojo wants to spit on your tongue again, let you taste how good you were for him. He winds your body tight, not giving you a break until you’re whimpering and trying to push his hand away, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, mama, I got you.” He doesn’t leave you empty for even a minute, rubbing the wet head of his cock over your clit before pushing inside you with a hiss. 

“Gotta let me in, baby.” He coos when you clench too tight for him to push further. It feels so good the way you’re gripping his cock but he wants to be deeper. He’s only halfway inside and he knows you can take more. You can take all of him. His thumb finds your clit even though he knows it probably hurts by now, flushed and sore as he traces smooth circles over the swollen bud. 

“Satoru, s’too much!” You hiccup, trying to pry his hand away even when he’s being so purposefully gentle. 

“I’m being good.” He pants. “Treating her real nice. Just gotta let me in, mama. Let me in so I can fill you up how you want.” He’s lost in his daydream, imagining finally filling you up, making you take him and grow him a little baby. His free hand pets over your belly as he tries to get deeper with each shallow thrust. And when he pops past that last bit of resistance, Gojo fucking collapses. He buries his face in your neck and goes still. It feels like he’s fucking melting with all the wet heat milking his cock and it doesn’t help that he can feel your pulse fluttering against his panting mouth, and feel your hips trying to buck against him. 

“Please, please,” you pants helplessly. “Love you, please!”

“Mm, love you, too, baby. Gotta gimme a minute,” he laughs, pretending he didn’t almost break his promise and paint your insides white the second you let him all the way inside. You’re the one that wants him to be careful but you’re mewling and moving like you wouldn’t mind if he came right now, pressed right up against your cervix. He bites a bruise into your shoulder to distract himself before pulling his hips back to bully his way back inside with a deep stroke. 

He’s mean about it because he’s pouting. He can’t have what he wants even though it’s so close. He won’t push his luck but he can still be upset about it as he fucks you into the bed. His tongue licks up beads of sweat as they drip down the hollows of your throat, teeth worrying bruises over your shoulder because he knows you don’t like when he leaves too many marks on your neck. He’s so nice and attentive and has you absolutely wailing, nails digging into his back as your legs lock around his waist, but he still can’t have what he wants. 

“Please, mama?” He tries one last time as he feels you starting to pulse around him. Your eyes meet and he swipes a messy kiss that’s more spit and tongue than a proper kiss over your mouth before he lets you answer. It’s the same “later, Satoru!” he always gets, yet he still can’t help but be a little disappointed as his balls tighten at the feeling of you cumming on his cock with a wail. There’s a sticky sound as he pulls back, webs of wetness strung between the two of you where you’ve turned his cock white with your drooling pussy. He almost whines at the sight, pressing back inside even as you shiver because he’s so close and this warmth will only last a few moments longer. He gives you long, hard strokes that drag out the last edge of your orgasm. 

“So mean.” You pout even though your legs don’t want to let him go as he pulls out. He leaves just the head inside you, stroking his soaked shaft with quick strokes. It’s a dangerous game to be playing but he thinks he’s earned it by being so patient with you. He pulls out at the absolute last second, jerking off onto your stomach because if he can’t put it in there he can at least mark where he wants it to go. 

“Right here, baby.” He groans, leaning over you with one hand on your waist while the other squeezes every last drop of cum from his cock. “That’s where I’m gonna put ’em. That’s where all my cute babies are gonna go, right, mama?” He smiles and he knows it’s patronizing but you’re all too happy to indulge him. 

“Yeah,” you push your hand in beside his as he thumbs at your stomach. “Yeah, right there. I’ll keep ’em in there for you, baby.” 

“Yeah, you will.” You promised. Someday. Not never, just not right now. He’s still impatient but post-nut clarity has sort of straightened his head out as he curls up next to you. He bats your hand away when you try to wipe the mess of his cum off your tummy. 

“It’s gross.” You complain just like he knew you would but you don’t try again. His room has lost the scent of cleaning chemicals and cologne as the smell of sex seeps into every crevice. He can smell your sweat and the scent of your cunt and he’s content to go to sleep without changing the soiled sheets. He’s almost there, lulled by the even sound of your breathing but he still gets up to get you water and a washcloth. He hums in sympathy as you squirm while he cleans the mess between your legs, swiping through your sensitive folds with a careful attentiveness. He stares at the dry mess of his cum on your skin for a little while longer before wiping that away too. You sip your water and remind him to go finish eating and he nearly pops a boner again because you really don’t know how to turn off your charm. 

“Later. Promise I’ll eat later. Jus’ wanna lay with you right now.” He murmurs and slings his leg back over yours. You’re both naked now and slightly sticky from all the sweat but he clings to you anyway. Your fingers find his hair, nails brushing over his scalp gently as you go back to humming. Gojo can’t tell if you’re doing it on purpose or if you’re singing absently to yourself but he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to watch you sing lullabies to your babies. Yeah, later can’t come soon enough. 

[mockerycrow]

"I thought we were past this," with foap please 🫶

400 Follower Celebration

—“I thought we were past this.”— With John “Soap” MacTavish

Summary: Johnny ended up getting an eye infection and swears up and down he doesn’t have any issues with stuff near his eyes. spoiler alert: he does!

[WARNINGS: none, fluff.]

The alarm on your phone ringed out as it hit 8:00 AM and luckily for you, you were already awake. Your phone is vibrating angrily on the kitchen counter as you make breakfast for you and your boyfriend Johnny, who’s currently bundled up in blankets on your shared couch, sporting two infected eyes.

“John, it’s time for your eye drops!” You call out, tapping the “stop” button on your phone, ceasing the vibrations that nearly causes your phone to topple over the edge.

You wait for a response or for his footsteps, but you hear nothing. “Did’ya hear me?” You say a bit louder, using the tongs to flip the bacon on the pan. You again listen for signs of life over the grease popping noise coming from the pan, and you sigh. “I swear to god.” You mutter, turning the burner down to a low temperature.

You put the tongs on the paper towel covered plate and you quickly make your way from your kitchen, through your dining room, and you find yourself in Johnny’s last known location; but he isn’t there. You groan, finding his favorite blue blanket abandoned on the couch, along with his tissues and the TV remote.

You can’t help but laugh a little bit because the thing that provoked this reaction is eyedrops. Your loud-mouthed, competitive and cocky boyfriend runs scared from eyedrops. Your boyfriend who is quite literally in an elite task force, your boyfriend who is a trained goddamn sniper and demolitions expert. “I thought we were past this!” You shout, scanning the room with your eyes.

You knew he could be sneaky when he wanted to be, but you’ve been with him long enough to know his regular hiding spots and the spaces he thought you didn’t know about, but of course you do.

So, there began your search. You searched behind the curtain of the living room, you searched the bathroom, behind the shower curtain and all, the hallway closet that stored a variety of things, everything. Yet you could not find him. You sigh, nearly giving up to just text him, you have an idea. You didn’t check the garage.

You grab the eyedrops and walk down the hall and you open the garage door that’s connected to the house. You flip the light switch on and you find Johnny fucking hiding in the car. He looks at you with a deer in headlights look through the window and you burst out laughing, a harsh wheeze being ripped from your lungs. He fucking hid in the car?? “I- Alright, oookaayy Johnny,” You giggle, trying to open the car door but finding it’s locked. “Get out of the car so we can get this over with.”

“Over my dead body!” He yells, muffled but you can still hear his thick accent clear as day.

You sigh and enter the house and for a moment, Johnny thinks he’s safe—until he hears the car doors unlock.

He forgot this is also your car.

[ceilidho]

prompt: Soap being a funny, goofy flirt with his barista whenever he's on leave back home….super cocky and charming, then a couple months go by …. and he comes back sort of rougher around the edges after Las Almas. less trusting. a bit meaner when he talks to her….. [soap/reader] 2.5k; nsfw (on ao3)

-

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

He’s back again. It’s not a usual occurrence, but when it happens your heart kicks into overdrive. He appears like clockwork every couple of months, and then back to back over a quick succession of days. Like he’s in town one week and then gone the next. 

You look up from where you’re organizing the muffins in the display case to find him grinning down at you from the other side. His hair is freshly shorn on both sides, the stripe of hair down the middle likely barely long enough for him to work his thick fingers through it. He’s got a cocksure grin spread across his lips. A fresh cut over his right eyebrow, a butterfly bandage over it. 

“Hi John,” you say. It’s almost a struggle to say the words. Your hands shake a bit where they’re extended out amongst the pastries, fingers pressing into a carrot muffin a bit too hard. It dents beneath your fingers. You pull them out, rest the tongs behind you on the countertop. 

“Hi kitty cat,” he purrs, folding his arms over the pastry case, leaning as close to you as he can. If it were anyone else, you might be tempted to scold them for smudging the glass. It’s you that’ll have to clean that up later. “Not Johnny anymore? Have I been gone for too long?”

Charm like butter spread thick over freshly toasted sourdough, already melting into the bread, dripping onto the plate between the pockets of air. You know he could ruin you if he wanted to, if you let him in. 

You know it won’t be long until you fold. He hasn’t been subtle about it. “Sorry, Johnny, we’re all out of scones.”

“Aw, that’s how you apologize for tossing up my morning?”

You twiddle your thumbs. “Sorry.”

“‘Have to do better than tha’, kitty cat,” Johnny says, lips drawn into a faux pout that has your heart skittering in your chest like it’s been let loose from the stables for once. “I was waiting for those scones for near a month."

“We have cream buns,” you offer. He snorts.

“Not in the mood for anything cream filled just yet.” 

There isn’t a shade of red deep enough to describe your face. “Pardon?”

“Ye fancy going for a bevvy tonight?” Johnny asks instead, evading the question.

You probably look as gobsmacked as you feel. It’s not like you haven’t been asked out on dates before, but Johnny is leagues away from any of the men you’ve dated. He’s cockier, back straight and chest out, flaunting the muscles strapped across his chest and arms. You think it’s reasonable that you’ve chalked his flirting up to habit, something he does with everyone; whatever distance you’ve put between yourself and your inevitable nervous breakdown has been built on assuring yourself that Johnny surely didn’t mean for you to take his flirting seriously.

Apparently, you were wrong. 

“You want to take me out?” you ask, sounding a bit dumb. 

“‘Course I do.” He cocks an eyebrow, leveling you with an obvious look. “Haven’t been shy about it; s’a bit tough when I’m all over the place these days, but I’m in town for the next two weeks, so we’ve got some time. When you getting off today, kitty cat?” 

Johnny leans farther over the countertop, towering over you now that you aren’t standing on the raised platform by the pastry case. Palms spread wide over the granite; when your eyes flit down, you can’t help the way they’re drawn to the dark, livid tattoos crawling up his forearms. Dark ink like they’re new trophies on his skin. 

His attention is always like the sun; your whole body burns under his gaze. There’s something about being stared at so intensely, blue eyes raking down the front of you, that makes you unsure. 

He buys a croissant instead, tenner pressed gently into the palm of your hand. You're tempted to deflect, tell him you aren't interested.

“Seven,” you whisper instead, hands shaking when you hand him his change. 

His hand closes around yours, callused fingers rough against your skin. “Got it. Pick you up seven sharp.”

When he leaves, you barely hear the jingle behind him, the blood pounding in your ears. You have a date. 

Your chest is tight for hours, thinking about your date later that evening. He picks you up after your shift, just as you’re locking up; you thought you’d have a couple minutes to head back to your apartment and freshen up, but you find him waiting outside the coffee shop for you, clad in a black hoodie and the same jeans as earlier. 

He’s as slick and gentlemanly as you might’ve anticipated, walking you to the pub with a hand nestled against your low back. You talk for what seems like hours tucked away in the corner. Johnny makes good conversation, but sometimes it feels a bit like an interrogation. He’s talkative, but there’s a faint edge underlying everything he does; he makes you wait for him at your table while he orders for the two of you at the bar, taking the seat facing you so you’re ensconced in his shadow, hidden from anyone else in the pub.

He insists on walking you back to your place, boots splattering through the puddles accumulating between the cobblestones. He makes sure you walk on the dry side. Every light you pass under sweeps across his face in a golden arc, illuminating the corner edge of his jawline, the plush spread of his lips, the furl of his ear like a nautilus shell. Brows that slope over deep set eyes. 

When he leaves you off at the door, Johnny’s hand curls in the hairs at the back of your neck and tugs you up for a kiss that goes scorching hot. Fingers tangled in your hair, other hand coming up to cup your cheek, holding you in place. You feel trapped, helpless against the onslaught of him; a hot tongue flicks into your mouth and he groans, making your head spin. You feel it resonate through you. 

“Johnny—” you mumble when he pulls away for a second, cut off when he leans back in to suckle at your bottom lip. His beard is bristly against the soft skin around your mouth. 

You feel him smirk against your lips. He nips at the lower one. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, a’right, kitty cat?”

Johnny only looks the slightest bit disheveled when he pulls away. A thumb traces your lower lip. He briefly looks regretful, like he wants to bend down again for another one—you feel the intention when he presses his thumb ever so slightly past your lips—but then he pulls back, walking backwards down the street away from you. A hand raised in goodbye.

Then the next day, he’s gone. Vanished into thin air. You glance up whenever the wind chimes over the door jingle, but it’s never him, always someone with a different hat, a different face. 

You thought he promised you two weeks this time. Your chest collapses when the door opens and someone else walks in. Apparently he spoke too soon. 

Two days go by; you’re fighting the desperation to know. It oddly never crosses your mind to think that he’s ghosting you. Maybe it should. You hardly know him outside of the brief interactions you have every other month when he’s back from wherever he works (and you know that it’s all top secret, hush hush, you’ve seen the military tattoos and kept your questions to yourself), but it doesn’t feel—and you think this with no small degree of irony—like something he’d do. 

On the walk home, you often catch yourself looking for the familiar shape of him. Wandering past the shops closing up for the night, people piling into the bars, raucous voices tumbling up into the smoky sky; you stand on your tiptoes on the other side of the street and peer in, looking for the broad shape of his back. 

You never spot him. There is a cold gap in your life that goes unfilled. It smarts at the root of you; you didn’t think you could miss Johnny. You thought you could feel a twinge of regret every now and then for not indulging his flirting a bit more, but you had honestly shelved him higher than you could reach in your desires. Until he took you out and listened to you ramble on, listened deeply with his attention rapt, his cheek pressed into his fist as he leaned against the table towards you. Until he whisked you safely back home and held you in place while he sipped kisses from your mouth until your lips were swollen. 

It’s months later when you hear it. 

“Hi kitty.”

Your blood goes hot at the sound of his voice. When you whip around, Johnny’s on the other side of the counter like he never left. Black shirt that clings to the curve of his biceps, old jeans with fades around the knees and thighs stretched around his thighs. 

When you meet his eyes, they seem charged, steadier than usual. Flat lips turned up just at the corner, one side only. Johnny’s not usually so still, so grounded on his feet; there’s usually a frenetic undercurrent to him, like catching a live wire. You don’t know what he’s like out in the real world, but in your world he looks like he paces and runs to work himself free of all the extra energy. Maybe other forms of cardio.

“Johnny, you’re—” You catch yourself before the words tumble out, before you make it known that you’ve been tossing and turning late at night wondering where he went. Blue eyes sparkle like they hear it anyway, the faint note of desperation seeping into your voice like a hoarseness. 

“Fancy going for a bevvy tonight?” he asks you again. Less of a question this time. 

You feel pulled to him on a string. He doesn’t leave you in peace this time. He waits you out, sits at a table in the coffee shop facing you. Customers you’ve known for years seem entranced by him, and how could they not? They don’t make them like him often—tall and blue eyed, roguish; ruggedly handsome when the mood strikes. Pretty boy until he turns the full weight of his stare on you and you’re forced to contend with the fact that he is, in fact, all man. 

Your amity turns to enmity when someone stares at him for too long. Placated only because Johnny never so much as turns their way. 

Dinner is a long, drawn out affair. His conversation is rougher than usual, punctuated by bouts of silence. His eyes are murky waters. Something’s changed, you think, salad speared on your fork, hovering just in front of your mouth, studying him. Something happened in the months that he was away. Whatever it was, it’s left Johnny a bit more calculating, less trusting. He sits facing the door this time, eyes flicking up whenever it opens on the other side of the restaurant. 

“Sorry, angel, don’t have it in me to be sweet and gentle anymore,” Johnny says when he walks you to your doorstep. “‘Fraid it’s gonna be rough for you from now on.” 

His words make you tremble. 

The kiss at your doorstep doesn’t end there this time. Maybe this is all an extension of that moment months ago, the natural endpoint. You were never going to end up anywhere else but flat on your back under him.

“Pure gaggin' fer it, aren’t ya, kitty?”

Johnny’s voice is rough, barely a rumble over the sound of your own keening. Your whole body slides up the bed every time he ruts into you, thick cock spearing you open. Your hands slip over his shoulders where a layer of sweat has built up; your bodies slide together like you’ve been at it for hours, rather than just the thirty minutes since Johnny bodied his way into your place and made you guide him to the bedroom, shucking his clothes the whole way there.

“No, I would’ve—” You gasp on a particularly rough thrust, teeth clenching together, “—I would’ve w-waited. Oh god, oh god.”

“Haud yer' wheesht, bonnie, quit whining,” he grunts. “Dinnae act like you weren’t asking for a big cock in this cunt. Could hear her purring behind the counter. Needed it for months, didn’t ya?”

You knew this was in him somehow, this penchant for dirty talk. He’s always moved like it was in him. You feel swept away by it, scorching under his hands and tongue and dick. Tightly wound. Only capable of holding on, one hand clenched now in the lowest part of his mohawk while he ducks his head to suck your nipple into his mouth. When he gives it a mean bite, you squirm and cry out.

“Never thought you were s-serious,” you admit, whimpering when he nips again at the tender spot there. 

Johnny draws back onto his haunches, still deep in you. There are scars across his chest that you didn’t notice before. New skin frosted over, deep gouges across his arms; what you think looks like a bullet wound. Your eyes go wide. It’s impossible to think what he must have been through.

He looms over you, hand coming up to curl delicately around your throat. Just enough to let you know that he’s there, that he’s got you right where he wants. Johnny smiles wide, wicked, white teeth stark in the darkness of your room. 

“Oh, I’m very serious, kitty,” he laughs, deep and throaty. He thrusts languidly into your heat now, drawing it out. 

He makes a show of it when he comes, fingers tightening around your neck. Your breath hitches in your throat. It strikes you in the moment that you let him in bare, trusted him despite months of absence and no real excuse for it. When he pulls out, you feel it leak from you. Frustration boils under your skin because you haven’t come yet; you feel almost betrayed, a whiplash reaction that has tears welling up in your ears. 

“Don’t worry,” Johnny coos at the sight of your pinched face, “you’ll get yours, bonnie. Gonna treat this kitty real nice.”

You struggle against his hold when he forces your legs wide and slots himself between them, making his way down the bed. He tongues deep into your cunt to lick his own spend out. Your thoughts dribble out of you, head empty; there’s nothing left in you except bone-deep exhaustion and the feel of his bearded cheeks scraping against your inner thighs. 

You flinch like you’ve been shocked when he sucks at your clit, hypersensitive. He laughs when you do, doubling his efforts. His hot mouth on the place where he still drips from you might make you lose it completely. The most wounded sound bubbles out of you. Your hand trembles in his hair, torn between pulling his mouth closer and pushing him away. 

He doesn’t relent until you’ve come twice, your face flush with blood. When his tongue flicks over your clit again, it’s for the pleasure of seeing your legs spasm. 

“Johnny, please—can’t anymore,” you beg, trying to press your foot against his shoulder to push him away. 

His chin glistens with your juices. When he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, plump and swollen, you drag in a harsh breath. Maybe you could go again.

“Kitty, I’ve had a rough couple weeks,” he says, voice light but for where it descends into a memory, deep and dark. “Just let me eat your cunt and we’ll talk about everything later, okay?”

Your fingers tingle like they’ve fallen asleep in his hair. When you give in, it feels inevitable.