#ah fuck i'm crying again

[silasbug]

brain going brr... but not in a good way

i don't feel like a person

i look in the mirror and i can barely comprehend that.. that is supposed to be me

skin and appendages and twitching muscles when i move, unconsciously

i really don't like it

[lord-squiggletits]

Pharma's place in a Functionist society (headcanon)

So I've talked in some previous posts about all the reasons that Pharma isn't a functionist because canon never showed him espousing functionist ideals + he's actually in a place to be a victim of functionism. And I've been working on a Pharma-centric oneshot that made me put into words the best metaphor I can think of for Pharma's relationship with Functionism:

He doesn't support Functionism, but is simultaneously a beneficiary of it and also marginalized by it, because his position of being forged both a doctor and a jet basically turns him into a "token minority" of sorts.

I know that sounds kind of silly or maybe like a clumsy political allegory, but hear me out. There are a couple facts about Pharma and the circumstances of his forging that put him at the crossroads between privilege and marginalization within Functionism:

Tyrest says that Pharma was "famous for being forged." Not famous for being a forged medic-- otherwise surely Ratchet would be just as noteworthy-- but famous for being FORGED. But also, note that this is an opinion that SOCIETY had about Pharma, not something that Pharma espouses about himself. (For the sake of an example, Pharma isn't Starscream, who has an explicit, deep-seated need for others' love and approval. Pharma himself doesn't express any opinions on his own popularity or convey that fame/adoration is something he wants.)

Functionism on Cybertron held that if someone was born with a certain alt-mode, they can/should only have certain jobs. For people born with flight alt-modes, those people were almost always regulated to military or transportation/courier jobs

SIMULTANEOUSLY, Pharma was forged with medic hands, which under a Functionist society were viewed as the peak of medical care and all the best doctors were forged or at least had a "special something" that non-forged hands lacked (according to Ratchet).

So taken in combination, this means that from the moment of Pharma's birth, he straddled a line of Functionism between two different "predestined" paths for him, where he was simultaneously forged to be a doctor and also forged to fly, fitting into BOTH of these categories despite norms of Functionism which say you're one or the other. And I speculate that the reason Pharma is "famous for being forged" is precisely because of those lines he straddles: his very existence is a contradiction, but he was also FORGED that way. The same creed that dictated the two different functions of "hands" and "alt-mode" also says that Pharma should be what he was born to be. What he was born to be was a forged medic jet.

In my opinion, I think that being "famous for being forged" is sort of like a token-minority situation for Pharma, where perhaps Pharma was seen as a curiosity or even something exotic, not just as a person. Maybe because he was a jet and people assumed jets were only soldiers/transportation, a lot of his achievements were put in the light of "Oh, he's a really amazing doctor, for a jet" or "It's crazy that he's a doctor AND a jet at the same time". The attention Pharma received for the unique circumstances of his birth WAS positive, but it would've likely been framed in a bit of a condescending way, as if Pharma is noteworthy and famous not for being a good doctor, but for being a good doctor despite being born a jet.

So I would say that as far as Pharma's personal experience with Functionism, he simultaneously experienced privilege and marginalization. He enjoyed the privileges of being a medic while avoiding the restrictions of being a flight frame. However, a lot of the idolization and attention he received would have also come from a place of tokenizing Pharma: he's "famous for being forged," because in this society he's defying expectations merely for existing as himself. That is to say, Pharma in a Functionist society wasn't treated as remarkable because of who he is as a person and how hard he worked to be a good doctor; he was treated as remarkable for the circumstances of his forging, something he had no control over and can't change, and apparently Pharma being a forged medic jet is such a noteworthy origin that he's "famous" for it.

The above paragraph is purely headcanon, of course, but I like to imagine that part of Pharma's reason for having a big ego isn't out of simple vanity or insecurity, but because of a sort of "gifted student" syndrome, in a sense. From the moment he was forged he was treated as a rarity and an incredible phenomenon, and he would have had to work incredibly hard to be seen as "an incredible doctor" in his own right rather than just "that forged medic jet." Maybe, as a jet, he also had something to prove; he had to show to a Functionist society that being a jet doesn't make him an inferior doctor and that his alt-mode has nothing to do with his skills at his profession.

That is to say, I don't think Pharma would have been openly anti-Functionist, or had many opinions about it at all. I actually lean towards the interpretation that Pharma basically saw himself as getting lucky with the way he was forged and being content with the fact that he'd managed to carve out a reputation for himself as being incredibly skilled. However, Pharma not getting involved politically in Functionism doesn't change the fact that he WOULD have had a very complicated relationship with Functionism, in that alt-mode discrimination would have had an effect on him even though he was in the scientific/medical class and supposedly privileged.

[octarineblues]

.

[yohankang]

one of my exams today was so horrible i started crying lmao

[galwaygremlin]

so adult er/trauma doctors are ALL bad with kids, that wasn't just my dad???

[ratsetflummi]

me, at the start of the dark elf trilogy: ugh, what is this pretentious bullshit, why would anyone ever like this guy

me, three months later, at the end of the dark elf trilogy: *unintelligible sobbing*

[goldpilot22]

yesterday I watched the first 3 episodes of princess tutu with some friends. very good show, wasn't expecting it to be so... emotionally heavy ig? but in a good way. the 3rd episode really hit me hard, I had to stop after that and just cry for a while.

[shadowcat222]

Well maybe seeing as I broke down into a sobbing fit my mom will stop talking me well into midnight

[empresskylo]

things simon ‘ghost’ riley would say in bed

⊹ simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

[ warnings ] NSFW. MDNI.

cod masterlist

♡ that’s my good fuckin’ girl.

♡ you look s’pretty on your knees.

♡ shh, baby, i know you can take it.

♡ want me to fill you up, yeah?

♡ you’re so fuckin’ tight, princess.

♡ ah, ah, just lay back. i got you.

♡ this what you wanted? wanted my cock buried—fuck—deep inside you?

♡ hey, open your fuckin' eyes. look. at. me.

♡ fuck, baby, grab the headboard. shit—that's right, princess. hold on.

♡ i’m gonna fuck that sweet cunt of yours 'till you're beggin' me t'stop.

♡ been thinkin’ bout this all day, pet. fuckk—you are a goddamn dream.

♡ gonna fill you up good n’ proper.

♡ legs on my shoulders, pet.

♡ i want you to come. right now. i’m not gonna tell you again.

♡ on your fuckin’ knees, princess.

♡ i don't care if your legs are shaking. i'm not done.

♡ you belong to me. say it. tell me you're mine.

♡ is my pretty girl struggling to take my cock? hm? you can take it, baby.

♡ gonna milk me for every fuckin' drop, my greedy fuckin’ girl.

♡ fuckkk, these tits.

♡ you're gonna be the goddamn death o’me.

♡ open your mouth good n’ wide.

♡ is my sweet girl gonna come? gonna come on my cock, yeah?

♡ com’on baby, come on my tongue. i wanna taste ya.

♡ you’re gonna have t’beg for it.

♡ mmm, you can do better than that.

♡ want my fingers inside you? gotta use your words, princess.

♡ already fuckin’ soaked, pet. all f’me?

♡ buck your hips up into me. oh fuck—yeah, jus' like that.

♡ god, you taste so fuckin’ good, baby.

♡ you look so good taking my cock like this.

♡ you can take me deeper than that. i know you can.

♡ this what you wanted, hm? me bendin’ you over and havin’ my way with you?

♡ oh, my greedy girl. cant wait any longer, hm? gonna cry if i don't give it to ya?

♡ that’s right, princess. keep sucking on my—oh fuck—cock. keep goin’. fuck, you feel s’good.

♡ gonna spread those pretty thighs for me?

♡ fuck yeah, dig your nails into my back. harder. fuckkkin' hell.

♡ promise to be quiet?

♡ you like being fucked like this? like a fuckin' whore? hm? but only for me.

♡ swallow. now.

♡ com’ere, baby. come sit on my lap. wanna rub yourself against me?

♡ been waitin’ all day to bury my cock inside you.

♡ play with your clit f’me, princess. i wanna watch you come around your fingers.

♡ i want you t'look at me while i'm deep inside you. i want t'watch your eyes water while i fuck you senseless, yeah?

♡ you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.

♡ this cunt is all fuckin' mine. you hear me, pet? all. mine.

♡ you look so pretty with tears all down your cheeks. that good, hm?

♡ fuckk, princess. bite harder. i can take it.

♡ ah, don't you dare hide from me, pet. open those fuckin' legs. com'on... that's a good girl.

♡ this pussy was fuckin' made f'me. fuckin' hell. you are so goddamn tight.

♡ com'on, princess. i wanna hear ya. don't go shy on me now.

♡ i want you t'come with me. hey, look at me. that's right, love. now—oh shit—come with me. fuckkk—come now.

♡ these sounds all for me, yeah? holy shittt—that's right. you're takin' my cock so well—jesus christ.

[tearsofcalamity]

(mechanic!reader) cw // blowjob, overstim, robotfucking!! keep in mind I have 0 mechanical knowledge this is just me spitballing

boothill glitches & overheats when he's overstimulated!

it's not super obvious at first, what with going down on him and all, your eyes are kind of downcast as you focus on licking up and down his synthetic cock - the one you'd given him. it feels just as good, better, even, than a regular human's, and you'd made sure to up his sensitivity to touch extra for your little night with him.

his little huffs and pants are quite delicious, trying so hard to fight off the noises that are bubbling in his throat, but he can't help but let off a sharp whine when your tongue drags right beneath his tip, metal hands nearly gouging into the metal examination table beneath him.

"d-darlin', d-did you-" he's just about to figure out your little tinkering with his sense of touch when you wrap your lips around his tip and suck hard, your hand gliding up and down his shaft, aided with the residual slick left behind by your wandering mouth.

"ngh- mmnh! fudge, fudge, fudge!" ah, he curses in his mind that you were so willing to give him all these lovely upgrades, but you weren't quite as eager to fix the 'hilarious' problem with his synesthesia beacon.

he gets as close to cumming as a cyborg can, no liquid spurting from the tip but the heat from his metal body and the way his face tenses, then relaxes, making it all too clear he's reached his climax.

but you don't stop.

"h-hey, sugar? I j-just- oh, god, mmmh-" he can barely get the words out as you go in again, just as enthusiastic, if not even more so than before.

your tongue sliding back over his cock was absolute heaven, but also - man, was it also torture. he was already nearly at the edge again, his fingers actually making divots in the metal of the table this time. if boothill could swear, the words would be pouring out of his lips, but he settles on biting down on his lip instead, drawing some of that blue blood he's now been built with.

"h-honey? s-sugar, fudge, ahh, ahhh! I ca-ca-can't-!"

you look up at that, noticing the way he's stuttering, stammering more than usual even when he's overwhelmed. his lip is twitching, almost as if he's going to cry, but then you see his arm spasm unusually, jerking to the side when you get in one last little kitten lick on his aching cock.

he came again.

his face was utterly debauched, and he stared you down with a look of utter shock, his jaw twitching a bit as he tried to think of the words to say. you reach up to cup his cheek, your other hand landing on his abdomen, which results in you quickly pulling away with a sharp hiss.

he was burning up!

"darlin', I'm so-so-so-so-" he jittered out, the voicebox in his throat malfunctioning from the heat. he reaches a working hand up to grasp his throat, his lips moving but the sound not quite working in sync with them.

you paused, watching the way he glitched about, and then began to laugh. boothill shot you a betrayed look, but you just sighed with a smile and grabbed your tools, pulling over your swivel chair.

"okay, this'll be a lesson learned for upping your sensitivity next time."

"I k-k-k-knew it!"

"yes, yes. can't have your wires frying every time we fuck, love."

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader warning(s): ladies, red warning so yk i'm not playing — NASTYYYYY dirty talk ahead, mating press, lowkey highkey breeding kink, daddy kink, crying, deepness / cervix-play, strap, i think thats it but one more warning for that dirty talk.

synopsis: baby daddy paige in da building! don't even wanna say too much 😅 brave girls read! word count: 695. Author Note: guys i have no recollection of when i wrote this which is what makes it sicker...i can just tell i was in the throes of ovulation & baby fever tho (as i usually am) 😓

“Take it, baby, fuck—”Paige growled, giving your cunt unimpeded deep strokes, the blonde thrusting into you with relentless speed, a proud grin spreading across her sexy, sweat-slicked face as she pounded you into the mattress. "Fuck, ma, look how much she likes that dick, hm?"

"Yeah, shit P, oh! Shit daddy, fuck me like that, fuck-" you whined, your voice breaking as your body trembled with pleasure, hips bucking up to meet each of her piercing strokes, completely overwhelmed by the sensation.

Paige shifted back, hoisting your ankles over her shoulders and folding you deeper into the mattress, her brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten down in intense concentration as she positioned you in the mating press. —She was so close to your drenched pussy—sweaty body flush against yours, nipples coated in your slick sweat pressed together, and she had somehow managed to fit all the length of her strap impossibly within you, buried to fucking hilt. She was screwing you with an intensity that felt like life itself, yet it was as if she was simultaneously killing you.

She was way stronger, way bigger, and had the stamina to keep up at it for multiple rounds: with the determination in her movements and the determined look on her face, you knew there was no chance of her letting you up soon—especially not when you could feel every single inch of the plastic inside your soaked, dripping cunt, and the faint pulse of her vibrator against your g-spot. "Deep, baby, deeep... aw shit," she groaned as she plunged into the depths of your cunt, her movements audible and slick, cock messily slipping in & out of you like a fountain. Your arousal dripped dirtily all over both your thighs, coating both Paige, yourself, and the sheets beneath you. Your toes clenched tightly, a shout escaping you, far too loud for a 3 a.m. night in your condo. She filled you, true to her word, her thrusts deep and unyielding as you clung to her back—perhaps for comfort, even as she was the one ravaging your pussy. Your purple nails raked into her skin—her favorite color—leaving marks as you desperately pulled her closer, your arousal splashing onto her as she pounded into you.

"Ah! AH! Fuck, Paige... please!" you cried out when you felt the tip of her strap hitting a spot—one you never even knew existed, as you had NEVER had anything prodding this deep inside of you before.

"Where you feelin' me, baby? Hm? Show me where I'm at," she whispered against your cheek, her labored breath mingling with the clapping of slick, heated skin.

Your hands shook as you tried to gather the strength to point, but your mind was spinning. When she spat at you, commanding like a dominatrix, "Where?!" you couldn’t help but obey. "Here! Here, right here, Paige!" you moaned, clutching your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of her strap. She released her grip on your legs briefly, guiding your hands to press down against it. Each thrust emphasized the jab and knock in your gut, sending a euphoric mix of pressure and pleasure through your body.

You made a sound—something between a cry and a shout, lost in the overwhelming of pleasure and passion.

"Imma make that pussy cum again, baby, okay?" she purred, her voice low and almost sweet, making your cunt clench desperately around her strap, anticipation building with every rock of her hips into yours. "Okay? Talk to me, baby—wanna cum on my dick? Want me to fuck my cum into you?" she coaxed. You sobbed, a desperate moan escaping from the depths of your loins—you could barely breathe, and she was thrilled, her blue eyes shining with dark satisfaction.

"Y-yeah, I want your kids, P, mhm!"

She grinned deviously, increasing her pace, each thrust filled with purposeful intent. "Yeah? You want daddys kids? Give my baby something to do while I’m away?"

"I want you, yeah," you gasped at her, and she smirked at that. "I’m gonna make sure you feel me even when I’m gone this week, baby." And just like that, you were cumming, back to square one enduring her pleasuring wrath. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: i can't even yap right now.. how are we doing ladies? post-war thoughts 🤔😔💭 i've been gone for so long missed ya byeee!

[jedi-starbird]

Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.

like before Bandomeer?

The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.

"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.

Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.

'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.

"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.

"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.

after Naboo?

Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.

Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.

This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.

the Clone Wars?

The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.

Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)

The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.

"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"

"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"

[phyrestartr]

Love Is Not My Right | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 1.1k

#NSFW, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, reader is early thirties, sukuna is mid twenties, reader is a uni prof, sukuna is a uni student, DON'T SLEEP WITH YOUR PROFS IRL PLS THANK YOU, questionable relationship, smut, fluff, angst, self-deprecating reader, soft sukuna?, sukuna has daddy and mommy issues, not edited that much lol IT'S A DRABBLE STFU

tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork (SOZ IF Y'ALL HAVE ALREADY READ THIS HFOHGIOHG JUST REMEMBERED I DIDN'T ADD TAGS)

“Fuck, Teach,” Sukuna groaned. His hips pistoned against yours harder, accentuated by the sharp clap of skin meeting skin. He squeezed your thigh, the one of the leg thrown over his shoulder, before slapping the side of your ass as his head tilted back with a throaty groan.

You, on the other hand, were a trembling mess--and at the hands of your student, no less. Everything about this was uncouth as could be; Sukuna was nearly a decade your junior, he was in your class, and he had zero qualms about the fact that you were his professor. He saw you, decided he wanted you, and would therefore have you.

It was easy saying no in the beginning. He was a typical punk with sharp wit and a sharper tongue--many men like him had made passes at you in the confines of your classroom, but Sukuna had the smarts and charisma to back up his flirtatious remarks and daring whispers.

But, if you were being honest, maybe it was because you'd been engaged twice, un-engaged thrice (long story). Maybe it was because you'd been cheated on and dumped on loop. Maybe it was because you'd given up on romance and sex and everything else and–well, maybe that was why you succumbed to his advances. Maybe you were just sad and lonely, willing to be taken advantage of under the man's misguided thought that you'd give him a better grade if he fucked you good enough. You wouldn't. But he never asked for it, either.

You jumped when another sharp spank sent ripples of bitter pleasure and pinching pain fluttering across your skin. The simple feeling had you clamping down around the man and gasping.

“Itadori-kun–”

“What did I say?” Sukuna groaned, spanking you again and adjusting the leg hooked over his shoulder. “First name.”

Your eyes blurred slightly from the embarrassment and pleasure of it all. “I--but that's–”

“I'm ‘boutta cum in your ass, ‘n you're worried about honorifics?” Sukuna cackled, holding your thigh with both hands as he focused harder on moving his hips faster and faster. “‘M fucking you…in your own fuckin’ bed…and you're–ah–worried about–fuck, you're so fucking good--fuck.”

The searing friction eating you alive tripled in Sukuna's frenzy to reach his second high of the night. You burned alive, shyly crying out as he hit your soft spot over and over, tightening up more and more until you plummeted into your third (fourth? Fifth?) orgasm dealt by Itadori Sukuna's hand. Well, hand, mouth, and cock.

“Sukuna,” you gasped, curling into yourself and subsequently toward him, fisting one hand into his dark hoodie to try and ground yourself against the relentless assault.

His hips stuttered when you called his name. His lips crashed against yours, then, with teeth clacking together and tongue bullying into your mouth as he trembled and slammed in with too-much strength to pour his cum into your core.

“F-fuck. Love that sh-shit,” he stuttered as his stomach tightened and contracted, his eyes rolling back before they fell closed to indulge in the pleasure crashing down on him. But his body's seizing didn't stop his hips from moving–he kept pushing and pushing, hard and sloppy and weak but so, so desperate to jam more and more deeper and deeper into you.

Eventually, when you were both threadbare and burnt out, he pulled out and collapsed beside you with a pleased sigh. You hugged a pillow and fought to catch your breath, but Sukuna, the brat he was, tugged away your life boat to replace it with himself.

You sighed, baffled and exhausted. “Sukuna–”

“What? ‘M allowed to fuck you but not–”

“You–I–we shouldn't be–I shouldn't be doing this,” you argued. “You're too young, I'm your professor. You should be looking for people your own age–”

“Not like I fucking chose this for the thrill,” he scoffed, tucking his arm under his head as he looked at your tired face. “This looks bad on me, too. Looks like I'm tryna fuck good grades out of you.”

You huffed and fixed his hoodie's tangled drawstrings. “You already get good grades. No one would believe that.”

“‘M a fucking genius. Everyone knows,” he agreed with a smirk. “But the other extras in your class? They'll act like it's somethin’ else. They'll jump on whatever the fuck they can to make their own pathetic asses feel less guilty for sucking so hard at life.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help a smile. “Well, this'll look worse on me. Either you did fuck grades out of me, or I'm holding said grades hostage ‘n making you sleep with me lest they suddenly drop.”

Sukuna hummed and slid a hand to your bare waist. “Ho? I like the sound of that. Guess I'll have to try harder to make sure I stay your favourite. I could go for a 4.4."

“Please–don't roleplay that,” you begged, feeling more tired by the second. “Just promise me you'll move on and forget about this after finals. Please. It's in your best interest.”

“Yeah? ‘N what's in your best interest, Teach?” Sukuna wondered. His knuckles brushed against the curve of your cheek, and you felt your heart ache with loneliness. But you'd never admit you wanted this. You'd never admit you wanted a cure for being unlovable.

“Keeping you safe,” you said, pulling his hand from your face and squeezing it tightly, “Is in my best interest. I want you to be happy, to stay out of trouble. And this? This can only breed trouble.”

“Trouble ain't so bad.”

“Sukuna.”

“After finals, ‘m not your student anymore,” Sukuna reminded.

Your face got a little hot. “Don't twist this–”

“Twist it? Tch. It's just facts.” He looped his arms around your smaller frame and tugged you in close. “So I'm gonna keep taking my daddy issues out on you even after the semester ends.”

You had to laugh. “That's–you're a little too self-aware–”

“Pretty sure that's a good thing, no?” He yawned and tugged the blankets up over the both of you. “You're starting to piss me off with all the resistance. Just take it. Like how you take my cock.”

You sighed and sat up, pulling the blanket over the younger man more. “You have a dangerous mouth on you, y’know that?”

Sukuna smirked. “Like hearin' that from you.”

“Right. Well, I need to wash up.” You brushed his hair back against your better judgment. “You need anything?”

The look he sent you made everything ache more; it was something so warm and lazy, half-lidded eyes fighting to stay open as your tender touches lulled him to sleep. It was so strange, the apparent peace you brought to such an explosive soul. It almost made you think this could work.

“Jus’ make sure you come back,” he grumbled before letting his eyes fall closed. “Fucking kill you if you don't.”

You smiled the tiniest bit as you brushed his hair back a few more times. “Promise I will,” you whispered, earning a soft grunt of approval in return.

But as you sauntered to the bathroom, shedding whatever clothes you somehow still had on, you cried.

[sp4ceboo]

A/N: aaaaaand she's back (i had to get the hard thoughts out before i wrote a full length fic, i'm not sorry)

tw: 18+, smut (afab reader, fingering f recieving, piv sex, praise AND degrading ofc, angry sex, 1 spank, overstim, some dirty dirty talk icl, no protection oh dear), sometimes ken sato is a sad little meow meow but definitely not in this fic, they fuck in the basement but atp emi is on the island dw, tiniest weeniest bit of aftercare at the end

wc: 0.73k

kenji sato is seething.

tonight's game was one of the rare times when the giants had lost, and you can feel his frustration in the urgency with which he touches you, pushing you against the cool glass until your vision is filled with the sea outside, silver glimmers flashing in your eyes as fish dart by.

you can feel his frustration in the tension of his movements as he practically tears your clothes off you, and in the low grunt that sounds from behind you as he roughly yanks off his belt.

most of all, you feel his frustration in the way he runs his calloused hands over your skin, over your curves, grabbing handfuls as if to say this is still mine. i may have lost the game today, but i won this, i won her.

ken presses his hard chest to your back with the same fervor that he presses his mouth to the nape of your neck, tongue and teeth coasting over your skin. the glass is so frigid against your bare breasts that it's almost cutting, but you can't get away; he's right there behind you, raging, burning.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.

there's something addictive in the harsh way he grips your hips, the way he sucks bruising hickeys onto your neck - a promise that he'll fuck you until the loss is no longer on his mind, until all he can think about is your sweet, sweet pussy.

you can't help the pitiful sound that leaves you when he kicks your legs apart, his long fingers giving you less than a second to regain your balance before he's shoving them knuckle deep into your cunt.

'so wet for me, huh?' he asks, and you can hear the lingering venom in his voice. 'such a dirty fucking slut, aren't you? turned on because i'm angry? want me to use you, hm?'

'y - yes, ah, yes i - '

the rest of whatever you were going to say dissolves into a moan, your eyes rolling back as ken pumps his fingers in and out of you fast. you scrabble against the glass for purchase, mouth agape, pleas on your lips. he's unrelenting, giving you so much all at once, giving you no time to adjust, but you know that's how he wants you: floundering, trembling, overwhelmed.

you can feel his fingers curling inside you, cataclysmically so. his thumb is bearing down on your clit, rubbing tight, agonising circles, over and over, and all at once it's enough to send you over and you're shattering into a million pieces, his name a broken cry on your lips.

'that's it,' he croons as you come. 'my good little slut.'

not even a moment later, you feel the nudge of the blunt head of his cock, and you whine, knees weak as you babble at him that you're not ready yet, knees weak as he sheathes himself inside your still spasming cunt. tears come to your eyes then, and his hand cracks down on your ass, your whole body jolting in reply.

'you take what i give you,' he growls in your ear.

'please,' you sob. 'take it out on me.'

at your words, ken groans, low and deep in your ear. you mewl at the drag of his cock against your walls, gasping when he presses your body harder against the icy cold glass, burying himself inside you again and again, his pace punishing.

taking a fistful of your hair, he yanks your head backwards, arching your back more for him as he pounds into you. tears slip down your face as the pleasure turns sharp, overstimulation rubbing your nerves raw as his deft fingers find your clit and set you on fire.

effortlessly, he brings you over the edge again, and you're screaming his name, pussy convulsing around his cock as you writhe in his arms. his thrusts become faster, until you're sure he might break you, and then suddenly he's spilling inside you.

you moan as his strokes finally peter out, resting your sweaty forehead against the glass and going limp. one hand on your waist, supporting you, ken pulls out and scoops you into his arms; you nuzzle into his chest, tucking your head under his chin, and he kisses your hair.

'feeling better now?' you ask.

he laughs. 'of course. you take me so well, baby.'

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 10)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10

Part 10:

Your head felt like it was splitting, you could feel your brain pounding against the outside of your skull.

"Ah shit... everything fucking hurts...." you can barely whisper out loud due to your dried-up throat.

You clear your throat and open your eyes, to your surprise, you weren't left for dead on the street.

Instead, you see two girls hovering over you. One held your hand clasped in theirs, and the other had a spear pointed at your throat.

"Oh my gosh, you're awake! Finally!" The girl holding your hand said, leaning closer to your face. The girl with the spear and an 'X' over one of her eyes squinted at you and nudged the blonde girl back with her spear, "Who are you, and why shouldn't I kill you?"

You try to sit up, but the spear gets shoved closer to your throat before you can move. You sigh, "My name is (y/n). I don't want to hurt anyone. I just... I need help..."

Your answer earns a glare from the girl with the spear, but the blonde girl just nudges her with her elbow, "See, Vaggie? I told you!"

The blonde takes both of your hands in hers, "Hi (y/n), I'm Charlie! Charlie Morningstar and you're at the Hazbin Hotel! We aim to help rehabilitate sinners and offer them a chance at redemption to go to Heaven!"

The girl you now know whose name is Vaggie glares at you, "Are you even interested in redemption?"

You look at both of the girls, "I... I don't know. I'm not so sure but... I don't have anywhere to go and I need help finding someone.." You trail off as you start getting teary-eyed thinking about your love, Alastor.

Seeing you near tears clearly startled Chalie and Vaggie, it wasn't a response they were used to when asking sinners to stay at the hotel.

Vaggie set down the spear, deciding that you clearly weren't a threat. She could see the look in your eyes, one she knew very well- love. Meanwhile, Charlie is sniffling and getting teary-eyed right along with you, "Oh my gosh, we will do everything we can to help you find that person! Who are they, how can we help?"

You look up at the ceiling and then look at Charlie with a weak smile, "The love of my life... I miss him so dearly... I know he has to be here in Hell too." You chuckle lovingly, knowing he'd forgive you if he ever found out you said that out loud.

The floodgates were blown wide open and Charlie started sobbing and wailing, "Vaggieeeee, VAAAGGIEEEEEEE, th-they! They're looking for their LOOOOVEEEEEEEE. IT'S SO BEAUTIFULLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!"

Vaggie walked over to Charlie and scooped her up, giving you a gentle smile, "Hey... (y/n), sorry about threatening you earlier... I gotta take Miss Princess and calm her down, and then inform the other residents of a new arrival. But if you need anything, just give us a holler, okay? You're still healing so... take it easy."

You nod as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, "It's okay... No offense taken... Thank you Vaggie, and thank you Charlie, for agreeing to help me.."

All you hear as Charlie is carried away is the sounds of wailing and crying muffled sounds over the words, "SHE'S HERE FOR LOVE... WAAAHHHHHH, IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL VAGGIEEE!!!!"

You try to sit up again, this time, no spear to bar you from trying to move this time. Your body groans in protest, though it doesn't hurt nearly as much as before, but as you assess the condition of your body, you notice you have bandages all over you. They must have been treating you while you were unconscious.

"Such sweet girls... they didn't even know me, yet they saved my life.... I need to remember to thank them again later.."

Very slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and with a bit of effort, bring yourself to your feet. Hands holding yourself against the wall, you make your way over to what you assumed would become your bathroom during your stay here.

Your hands grip the sink as you look in the mirror when a small doubt enters your brain. You didn't look completely the same as you did when you were alive, which meant you had no idea if Alastor was even going to recognize you. Perhaps he even forgot about you... since it's been so many decades since you've been in Hell. Hell, you weren't sure you were even going to be able to recognize him...

"Enough of this... I'm sure he'll remember me.. he has to..." you whisper to yourself in the mirror as a crooked but tear-stained smile graces your hell-altered face.

After washing up your reddened face from all the tears, you made your way back to your bed. A deep sigh left your body as you plopped down gently on the bed.

Though you can't help but feel restless, as you sit there, just thoughts consuming your head.

In as bad of a shape as you might be, walking around even just a little bit helped you regain a little bit of strength, so you decided to make yourself decent after you had discovered that there was a change of clean clothes for you in dresser in the corner of the room.

Looking at yourself in the full body mirror on the back of the bathroom door, you smiled because it felt good to not look like a hot garbage fire- even though you could still see most of the bandages, at least you weren't all tattered and visibly bloody anymore!

Another deep sigh left your lips yet again, though this one was filled with determination. You turn the handle on the door and exit your room.

In your head, you thanked whoever built this hotel because you were so thankful that there were railings or some type of furnishing to hold onto whenever you felt yourself getting wobbly.

You didn't know where Charlie or Vaggie, or where any of the staff or other residents could be, hell, you didn't even know where the lobby was!

But on that last note, as you wandered around and regained some strength in your legs, you started to have an idea of where the lobby was located because you started to see more light and heard some voices talking.

Might as well go introduce yourself, right? No time better than the present to start making introductions, even if you still felt a little bit like shit still. You felt even shittier just laying around, you felt like if you weren't on the go constantly- you'd never make any headway on finding Alastor.

So there you were, slowly descending the stairs to the lobby when you heard Charlie call out your name, " (y/n)! Oh my gosh, you shouldn't even be up right now! Are you feeling okay??"

A weak smile creeps up on your face as you start to feel embarrassed that Charlie is fawning all over you in front of what seems to be her friends.

You chuckle, "Yeah, haha, just feeling kinda restless and thought i'd introduce myself is all!"

Charlie gently takes your hand and pulls you over to the rest of the group that had been chatting while seated on various sofas and armchairs that were centered around a coffee table- no TV's in sight, just a single radio perched on top of the mantle in this living room/lobby hybrid space.

"Guys! I am honored to introduce you to the newest guest to the Hazbin Hotel, this is (y/n)!!"

"Nice to meet cha, the name's Husk, the bartender."

"Hey there toots, bet ya look mighty fine underneath those bandages. Better not give me a run for my money as most gorgeous resident! Oh yeah, the name's Angel Dust, by the way."

"Hi, i'm Nifty! Nice to- BLEGH, you're a woman! Ew!" Nifty said before cackling as she scuttled away to stab some bugs nearby.

"Well, you already know me and Charlie," Vaggie said as she patted you on the shoulder gently.

"It looks like the only one who isn't here is Alastor. Shouldn't he be back soon?" Charlie said as she pulled out her phone to check the time.

To her, that seemed like such a mundane and normal sentence. But to you, it felt like time stopped and you froze upon hearing his name.

Alastor.

Alastor... here?

-> Part 11

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Cute aggression

Your boyfriend has a weird habit of being aggressively loving. He'll hug you so tight, sometimes you'll have to tap his arm so you can breathe. He pinches your cheeks with his fingers, cooing at you as he pulls at them playfully and laughs as you whine from the pain. When you cuddle in bed, he'll pull you in super tightly, wrapping both his arms and legs around you before snuggling his face into your hair, letting out a loud 'Mmmmmmm~' sound as he did so. Sometimes, he'll bury his face against your chest, snuggling deep into your cleavage, shaking his head back and forth as he enjoys the sensation of your soft flesh surrounding him.

"Who's my baby? Who's my sweet, adorable little baby? You are! Yes you are!" he'll coo before he smushes you chubby cheeks between his hands as he leans down to kiss your now pouting lips. He also bites you. Like a lot. He'll gently chomp down on your chubby cheeks, your ears, your thighs, your ass cheeks- honestly anywhere he can get his mouth on, he starts biting.

He gets carried away at times and even coddles you in front of his friends, using the baby voice as he kisses you or asks you a question. "Does baby want a new pwetty dress? Hmm? Something cute for my cute baby. Why are you blushing so much? Oh, the others heard me. Don't worry about them, sweetiepie. Focus on me."

It feels like there's a massive amount of energy inside of him that comes out when he can be aggressive with you. He doesn't hurt you, far from it, but it can take you by surprise when he will randomly pick you up just so he can hug you, making your wrap your legs around him tightly as he embraces you.

And of course, this aggression even comes out in the bedroom. He'll shush you as you cry from his spankings. He'll spend ages between your legs just because he can't bare to be apart from your kitty. He'll suckle on your nipples and call you his good little baby while he does. His favorite position is missionary just because he can easily fuck you, look at you and coddle you all at once.

"Baby! Of fuck- your sweet pussy is squeeeezing my cock! Relax cutie- ah- ah- yes- fucking love this cunt!"

"Hold me tighter- come on- really pull me in. That's it- just like that- oh baaaaby!"

"You want me to- fuck- slow down? It's ok baby, you can take it."

His other favorite is prone bone, just because he can put all of his weight on you and fuck you silly as his forearm is pressed against your neck, choking you perfectly.

"Oh, poor baby~ Am I choking you too hard? Your face is all red!"

"Yes baby, you can cum again. Cum all over my fucking cock!"

It was only through a random conversation with friends that you found out what cute aggression was and suddenly, it all made sense! You explained it to him and all he did was laugh, pulling you in for a hug as you swatted at him, not really mad.

"You're treating me like I'm a puppy!" you said, huffing as he started peppering your face with kisses.

"Well, you are my pet~"

Bokuto, Kuroo, Gojo, Yuuji, Shanks, Ace, Sabo, Uzui, Douma, Kaeya, Childe, Wriothesley.