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#electricity gone? scream.
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the administration is giving us a winter break can you believe
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syrenki · 3 months
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does anybody know how to manage arachnophobia? i'm physically shaking, covered in snot and tears, tired, but unable to go to sleep because i don't know where the spider in my room went
#mine#i ran for the vacuum cleaner but the spider was gone when i came back#and oh my fucjing god i cannot possibly go to sleep#i fucking screamed then i WHIMPERED out of fear just trying to step into my fucking room#i thought since i have the vacuum here anyway now i could just vacuum all under and behind my bed even though it's 2am#but i'm terrified of moving my bed#i imagine some kind of a spider nest or eggs there i'm fucking SHAKING man i don't know how to function i literally need therapy i think#this is UNMANAGEABLE i hate being so terrified i'm still crying and there's NO ONE to help me#in fact i must somehow make it without screaming if i find it again#or it finds me#because my roommate will be angry with me#i just called my father shaking and barely able to speak begging him to come to my place tomorrow and buy me some anti spider spray#or else one of those electrical devices#they scare spiders away#but like i said#i??? really mean it when i say i cried and screamed#now i'm just standing here in the cold room dreading the idea of going to bed because I KNOW if they're coming from somewhere it's THERE#jfc#i have to have my father help me#ohhh my fucking god i think i'll puke.#i literally think i need some anti-phobia therapy honestly#i can't wake up my roommate again i can't#godgodgodgodgodgod#what fucking punishment is this i can't move i am frozen to this spot anyway i move it'll be there#i don't fucking know what terrifies me so fucking much They're just little insects but i'm still frozen in spot nauseous and crying
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clenastia · 3 months
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my least fucking favorite thing is absolutely rank smelling people sitting at the table next to mine in a cafe.
in this case a fucking smoker.
like i understand as someone extremely prone to scent-based sensory overload (can't focus, building nausea, if i dont get away from the smell soon enough migraines) that like. it's a part of life. You can't reasonably avoid ALL strong smells, nor can you be reasonably accommodated for that.
Especially when it's not just bad smells like sweat and cigarettes but even 'good' smells like perfume and cologne or even like. febreeze shit. If the smell is strong it WILL fuck me up and expecting the whole world to cater to that... disability? of mine? like using disability feels wrong but also i literally get migraines so maybe that's just my anxiety of being perceived as In The Wrong acting up but like.
Logically the whole world can't cater to that for me.
But also. Please. There are open tables elsewhere. Please. Sit fucking anywhere else. I can't handle this.
I'd move myself but there is only one table in this entire cafe that has an electric socket and my computer dies if I don't keep it plugged in so I don't have any other options unless I go to a different cafe.... :(
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s0dium · 27 days
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Monster Fucker
Monster Form!Sukuna x F!Reader
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A/n: This is part of my 'Sex' event and collab with other writers!! Please check out the other amazing works here
Synopsis: You are losing your mind from being fucked by monster form Sukuna
Warnings: DOUBLE PENETRATION, two dick four arms Sukuna, cream pie, dub cob, heavy detail, rough sex, sub space, nipple play
~
If heaven existed, this was surely it. And if someone could wield such euphoric pleasure and power over you then surely they were a god, and that had to be Sukuna.
"Hnghhh, please I cant -kuna-" Tears rolled down your face and dripped onto the white sheets below as you choked back a sob, kneeling on your hands and knees like a dog. Your poor cunt fluttered and squeezed Sukunas cock making the pink-haired curse chuckle. He is not even moving right now but the stretch alone has pleasure rippling through you, electrifying every nerve ending.
“Awwww you poor thing" Sukuna snickers darkly, pressing his second dick against you asshole. Two of his hands are on your tits, tweaking and flicking your nipples with his index finger in fast up and down motion, making your pussy quiver from the euphoric stimulation. He slightly leans down to let a glob spit hit the tight hole, smearing the gooey liquid with the tip of his dick on your ass hole.
"Scream my name for me okay?" Sukuna murmurs into your ear before thrusting his second dick inside you. You let out a choked scream at the feeling of his thick hard member forcefully spreading your tight insides, and oh my god you have never felt so fucking full in your life right now. On one hand Sukuna's dick is stretching your cunt and pressing against your gspot, the sweet spot that you only dream about hitting with your fingers. On the other hand, your brain is overcome with the entirely new feeling of getting stuffed from behind, and boy, the stretch and heaviness of it inside you has you gasping for breath.
There is no warning when Sukuna reels his hips back, both dicks almost leaving both of your holes before pushing back in, filling you up in a way you could never dream of. The warm tingly sensation that had previously formed at the base of your cunt was now spreading like wildfire with the penetration and friction from your ass acting as gasoline. You needed more, that one thrust wasn't enough you needed Sukuna to devour you.
“Please, I- Hngh- I want m-more!” you sob, and you dont even have to turn around to know that Sukuna is grinning like a maniac.
"Yeah? You want more?" He laughs and while continuing to play with your nipples, one his hand drops down to your clit to rub tight fast circles on the sensitive nub. "Who am I to deny you."
The next couple of second are a blur as he ruthlessly fucks you doggy style. It is a primal, brutal display of intimacy that has your thighs quivering.
“Nghhh, f-fuck me pleaseeeeee” you begged, hips long gone from doing any work, only allowing yourself to have both of your holes fucked like a flesh light. You cant breath, so much as think, each breath you take deepens the sensation, sending electric flesh arrows of pleasure across your body leaving your skin hot and tingling.
“You hear this? You hear these sounds?" One of Sukuna's hands grabs your hair and pulls you up right so you are no longer on your hands, now you are just on your knees, but he continues to fuck you from behind. "Your fucking dripping, dirty slut," He chuckles and from the corner of your eye you can see his tattooed skin move into a grin.
You are loosing your mind at this point and oh God, you were drooling. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and you were becoming lost in the rhythmic pap pap of Sukuna's skin against yours. The feeling that was forming in your core was starting to blossom, it felt as if every cell in your body was pulsating in harmony, carrying you closer to a state of pure, ecstatic release.
You wonder if you’re dreaming. It feels euphoric, being completely immersed by Sukuna's entire being - filled to the brim with him, surrounded by his large muscular body, his searing skin, his deep voice filling your ears.
"You want to come? Oh I know you do, come on~" Sukuna taunts you as he fucks you from behind. The combined friction and stimulation of both holes has your eyes rolling back and legs shaking with the upcoming orgasm.
Suddenly it hits you.
The muscles in your stomach clench and your feelings of pleasure some to a euphoric beautiful crescendo. Your tongue falls out of your mouth and your mind goes blank from the high of the feeling. With a light groan of his own, Sukuna creams into both of your holes; a ring of the white liquid forming at the base of the cock thats in your ass from to the tight fit, and the other shooting hot heavy loads deep into you.
Yes, this is surely heaven.
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ironambivalence · 5 months
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The first thing you feel is the sharp pinch of the needle in your arm. Warmth flooding your body, your face flushed and lips tingling. The sensation spreading to your core and between your legs. Suddenly you feel warm and wet. Your cunt swelling slightly, lips parting... You try to touch yourself, pulling against something, and then…
Your eyes snap open and the bright light temporarily blinds you. Thick leather straps hold you down against the examination table, spread-eagled. Fear and adrenaline prick your skin, your drug-induced warmth now slick with a sheen of cold sweat. The shame of your dripping cunt hits you hard, and you try to tell yourself that it’s not your fault, it’s the drugs. It has to be the drugs…
Your mouth is held wide with a dental gag, jaw already beginning to ache. Your head is kept still with a thick leather strap across your forehead even as you see me cross your field of vision, my face behind a surgical mask, your eyes wide. “Today, I have an experiment…”
Another pinch, and a strong sedative makes your limbs go limp, too weak and heavy to move much, your mind perfectly alert. You feel my fingers spread your labia, pull back your clitoral hood, and the sharp excruciating pain of a needle in your clit, then your labia, the drug making them swell. Your tits are injected next, making them full and heavy as the syringe is emptied. The warmth spreads, combining with the pain, your cunt locked in a deep ache and drooling immediately. You are helpless, swollen, sensitive, and completely overstimulated. A vibrator is pushed against your cunt, shockwaves of sensation flooding your body as you try not to moan. My gloved hand encircles your throat, choking you. My fingers probe your gag reflex, making you drool all over yourself as you begin to see stars. You pass out a few times, slapped awake after each one, oxygen flooding your body and setting every nerve on fire. Each orgasm wrecking your body more than the last, the time between them growing shorter until they are just seconds apart. Forced to cum against your will so much it hurts. A gagging drooling mess. A ruined, helpless thing. Your cunt is swollen and unrecognizable, dripping down the table and onto the floor.
The vibrator is suddenly switched off. I slap your cunt hard and laugh as you scream, convulsing as shockwaves of pain cascade through your core. You groan as the thick electric plug is slid deep inside your anus, stretching you wide as tears spring to your eyes. The electricity makes you whimper, not just from pain, but from forcing your pelvic floor muscles to contract in time to the current. I press the head of my swollen cock against your dripping labia, and sink deep inside your helpless ruined hole. Choking you, slapping you, and spitting on you as I rape you, your restrained body swaying with each deep thrust, vulnerable and spread wide. Gagging you as you make disgusting noises, your face and tits covered in drool. Torturing your grossly swollen nipples, bruising them almost instantly with my fingers as I pinch, pull, and twist them savagely, tearing harsh, violent screams from your throat as the pain sears through your body. Your spasming cunt milks my cock inside you as I rape you. Your own body forced to betray you. Even the autonomy of your own muscles raped away as I force them to pleasure my cock. To splatter your cervix with my cum. And worse, to make you cum as well.
It hurts too much to orgasm now. You’ve been holding it off so long, trying to avoid the sensations from last time. It makes your muscles clench out of sync with the current, doubling up and eventually forcing that wave to crest, your eyes rolling back, legs shaking as you let out a horrible shriek of despair... Then it tears through you, every muscle taut and shaking. Mind going blank, unable to register anything but a horrible emptiness in the pit of your stomach, all stimulation gone. Just an object. A toy. A ruined thing.
When your eyes open, you become dimly aware of my voice. Your cunt is held open with a speculum, my cum still dripping out as you are examined in detail. Your most private, intimate parts helpless, vulnerable, and exposed. Nothing private, nothing secret.
“Indeed. The subject has become deeply suggestible. The formula was substituted for saline with no decline in response...” Saline!? No! It has to be the drugs. It was the drugs! Your mind is breaking as the mirror above you reveals the truth: Your tits and cunt are grossly swollen in the humiliating caricature of a fuckdoll, not injected with some new pharmaceutical, but simple saline solution…
“...more experiments are needed to determine the efficacy of any new formula.” In your turmoil, you suddenly notice the red light of a webcam, stomach churning... How many saw? How many people saw what I did to you?
“We will keep the experiment and continue to perform tests...” And as my first words drift back to you, it suddenly becomes clear: YOU are The Experiment.
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akela-nakamura · 10 months
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DPxDC Prompt
Summoning is an imperfect art, mispronouncing a name or having an incorrect symbol can lead to unexpected, and sometimes explosive results. Summoning can open unexpected doors. No one's prepared for what--or who--steps through when a rising gang tries to summon backup.
My little ficlet for this is below the cut:
Smoke. The acrid slam of it in the nose, brought on by the screaming wind. Chanting. A chorus of voices, steady and thrumming. Pain. Everything is hazy, and it’s equal odds on it being from the smoke or the potential head injury. 
Bruce stumbles to his feet, body throbbing. 
This was not how he’d planned this night. 
Of course, he hadn’t planned for Gotham to suddenly be overrun with a new…gang? They claimed to be a government organization, but Bruce has his doubts. He hadn’t had a chance to go through the GIW’s information, but according to Barbara, their claims were sketchy at best.
The shouting about ghosts and waving around sci-fi weapons with no trigger discipline certainly didn’t help their claims. 
Government organization or not, they had no right to raid homes, to drag people out onto the street, or overall threaten his city.
His ears ring, and the chanting rises in volume, impossibly. His chest reverbes with the sound. It’s steady enough to feel like a second heart. His blurry vision locks onto the center of the summoning circle. Because this night couldn’t get any worse, of course. 
First the GIW had rocketed up his list of threats with one simple move. 
They’d gone after Jason.
Jason, who even now was laid out in the middle of the summoning circle, eyes bright, bright, bright green through the haze. 
First they’d taken his son. 
Then they’d used him as a sacrifice. 
Bruce bared his teeth, locking eyes with the closest GIW agent. The man held up his weapon, a glowing baton. His form is weak. 
The baton gord flying, Bruce’s armored elbow slamming the man to the ground. The agent curls up, groaning. Nightwing’s escrima sing electric in the background, followed by the whip of Tim’s bow staff. Damian’s sword glints through the haze, and purple flashes through the crowd of white, white, white. 
He can’t see Cass, but he doesn’t expect too. 
The ground rocks under his feet, and it takes several precious seconds to regain his balance. There seems to be an almost endless flood of agents, with more and more meeting his fists as he tries to make it through the gauntlet. 
Suddenly, the air shifts, the scream of it heading for the circle instead of out. 
The circle glows toxic green, and Jason’s at the center, frozen in the light. 
“No!” Bruce shouts, the sound ripping from his soul. 
It’s echoed by Dick, who stands just outside the circle’s boundaries. His hands are pressed against the light, his blue eyes a shock against the green. 
It’s a confusion of people - GIW white and the summoner’s black. The GIW is here to end whatever it is they need Jason to summon to them. The summoners themselves seem to have broken away from the “agency” and want power from the being they’re calling. It’s a fight on multiple fronts, with the GIW fighting the summoners and Bruce and his family fighting them all. 
The temperature drops. 
“HOOD!” Dick screams, as Jason is swallowed by the green. 
The chant is all he can hear, even as he shoves towards the circle, even as he slams against the same wall Dick’s against. 
The world goes bright and he can’t keep his eyes on Jason. On his son. 
When the light fades, Jason’s not alone. 
A being sits six feet in the air, Jason collapsed over his lap, somehow hovering with the - what is he? He looks human, but there’s something wrong. Off. Bruce can’t quite pinpoint his age. A crown glows on his head, an ever shifting cape spills down his back, dragging close to the floor. His eyes are green as Lazarus, and just as deep. Jason is breathing, Bruce notes. The being’s hands curl in Jason’s hair, playing with it idly. 
The air is *rigid, and everyone’s stopped fighting. No one can draw their eyes away from the being. 
“You dare to summon me with one of my own?” The being speaks, and it’s like crackling glaciers. Someone whimpers. 
“We - wanted to give you a gift,” One of the men in black says, his voice chattering. 
It’s like breathing in ice. 
“A gift?” The being says and the sound is fury, banked in a waiting avalanche. “What kind of gift is this? A denizen of my Realms, trapped and tortured? Used to summon his king, against his will? This is no gift.” 
“B-but we didn’t know,” another speaks, and then obviously realizes he shouldn’t have. 
“Ignorance will not save you,” the being says, and it - he’s? - still holding Jason like he’s something precious. “And I am not the only one you have infuriated. 
“I am not the only one you have awoken.” 
To a man, the GIW agents cry out in panic. Bruce turns, looking for the threat but - the agents are buried to various depths in the cracked concrete floor. The ground is decidedly solid beneath Bruce’s feet but the agents would obviously not agree. They flounder, like the concrete is quicksand. The summoners are next, but it’s ice that gets them, crawling up their bodies until they’re locked into place. 
“My lord!” One cries and promptly finds himself gagged. 
Bruce can’t stay silent any longer. “Hood was used against his will to summon you,” he starts. The being’s eyes meet Bruce’s. “He didn’t want this. Is he alright?” 
“Your son is fine,” the voice is rough, but feminine, and obviously not from the being. It’s around him, dancing through the steel beams and pushing through concrete. “You are mine, my knight. You and yours are mine. The little king will not harm him, nor you.” A figure forms off to his right. 
“Holy shit,” Dick whispers. Bruce has to agree. 
She’s made of concrete, of broken brick and dust, of bone and police tape, of twisted metal and more. 
“Gotham,” Bruce breathes, and he doesn’t know how he knows but he does.
“Hello, my knight,” she says, her form shifting. She turns slightly, and there’s something sharp in her movement. “Hello, little king.” 
“Lady Gotham,” The being - the king? - returns. “You look well,” 
Lady Gotham laughs, a ringing sound - it’s bells and gravel, fresh air on a summer day and rising wind. “How you flatter me, little king. Do you fear me?” 
The being grins, mischief dancing around him, white hair floating high. “I respect you. It’s good to see you awake, Milady.”
“What is happening?” Tim asks no one in particular. Dick shrugs and Steph just leans harder on Tim. Cass holds Damian’s shoulder firmly, watching carefully. 
Bruce wishes he had an answer. 
“It is good to be awake,” Lady Gotham says, and she shifts closer to the circle, fingers skimming against the barrier of light. “How long do you intend to keep my reaper from me?” 
Reaper. Bruce thinks, and it’s a gut punch. 
It makes sense, to describe Jason. Jason can go where Bruce cannot, do what Bruce cannot. 
The king laughs lightly. “The summoning harmed him, Milady. I’m just keeping him safe. I’m not here to undermine you,” the king’s eyes glow. “But remember who is king.”
Lady Gotham smiles. “I’m aware of hierarchy little king.” 
“My son,” Bruce says, because there’s no point in pretending Jason is anything less. He’s talking to - the embodiment of gotham and a king of - something. “He’ll be okay?” 
Lady Gotham sighs. “He will be fine, my knight. The little king cares for his own.” 
“What - what are you the king of?” Tim asks, bold. 
The being smiles. 
“I am Phantom,” he says. “I am the Ghost King.” 
Jason stirs in his lap, and the implications crash over Bruce. Maybe Reaper has more meaning than he’d thought.
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ruggiezz · 9 months
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— EMBARASSING THINGS THEY DID IN THE PAST : twisted wonderland
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[synopsis] embarassing things they did when they were younger that now haunt them whenever they are trying to sleep
[characters] deuce, cater, trey (+chenya), leona, ruggie, jack, malleus
[extra] my last 3 posts are literally so unserious, so here's another one, for the funsies (ily guys)
★﹕DEUCE SPADE
When he was in elementary school, he would chat with his friends while waiting for his mom to come pick him up and take him home. That particular day, his mom was late, and 6-year-old Deuce freaked out. He was convinced that his mom didn't love him anymore, and that's why he wouldn't pick him up—that he was going to be homeless and would have to live on the streets in a cardboard box. He even started crying, which made his friends cry. They started saying goodbye to Deuce because how were they going to see him again if his mom wouldn't bring him to school?
Anyways, his mom came to pick him up 10 minutes later.
★﹕CATER DIAMOND
Back then when he actually tried to make friends whenever he moved schools, he had a huge crush on one of his classmates. One day, he overheard his crush talking about how they "would love to be with someone who loves nature as much as them". Cater wanted to impress his crush so badly that he made a Magicam post with him posing next to random trees and captioned it with "I love nature so much omg😍".
The photo is still out there on the internet because he forgot the password for the account, and the idea of someone from NRC finding the account terrifies him.
★﹕TREY CLOVER (+CHENYA)
Another one that takes place in elementary school. Trey and Chenya were walking around the city after classes when they spotted an electricity pylon. They thought it was the Eiffel Tower (the equivalent of it in Twisted Wonderland), and they got all excited about it, so they came back with Trey's parents so they could take a picture of them next to it.
Their parents bring up the topic from time to time just to laugh at their innocence back then.
★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
When he was a little kid, he had a nightmare where he was being chased. He was tossing around the bed, mumbling while sleeping. Falena was walking around the halls when he heard noises from Leona's room, and when he saw him clearly having a nightmare, he tried to wake him up. Leona got so startled that he screamed and kicked his older brother in the face.
Sometimes he remembers when he's about to fall asleep, and suddenly his sleepiness is gone from how much he cringed.
★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI
He needed money, so he decided to work as a party mascot. It went well the first couple of times; it paid well, until he had to work at this particular kids party. The parents told Ruggie to walk down the stairs, greet the kid, wish him a happy birthday, and then just stand there to greet the children whenever they talked to him. Keep in mind that he couldn't see well in the mascot suit. So when Ruggie tried to walk down the stairs, he tripped and fell. The suit's head fell off, and there was just silence for around ten seconds, then the kids started crying. They thought their favorite character had just died right in front of them.
The birthday boy was inconsolable. Needless to say, Ruggie didn't get paid, and his party mascot careed ended that day.
★﹕JACK HOWL
It happened when his parents weren't home. His younger siblings were playing around with paint, and they asked him if they could paint his face. Jack said yes because it was harmless and would wash off, right? Wrong, it was permanent paint.
He had an important exam the next day, so he just showed up to school with his face looking like a kid painting that parents would display on the fridge door. Jack had to go to school like that for three days.
★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA
Malleus has known Lilia for as long as he can remember; he basically raised him. One day, he had the genius idea to copy his hair. He waited for a moment when he was left unsupervised (in Lilia's defense, Malleus faked being asleep), grabbed some scissors, and cut his own bangs. It was awful; it looked like how you would think a little kid would cut their hair. He was so proud of himself until Lilia saw it. To little Malleus dismay, Lilia laughed his ass off, and whenever his laughter would stop, he would look at Malleus and start laughing again.
He got so upset he burned Lilia's bangs off.
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ghostbsuter · 8 months
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Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.
Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.
The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.
Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.
"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.
"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"
The vigilante grunts. "Joker."
"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"
He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.
(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)
"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.
It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.
"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"
A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.
(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)
"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.
Which brings another question.
Son?
Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.
Joker and Harley have a child. A son.
He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.
"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.
(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)
"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.
"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."
(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)
"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—
His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!
"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.
"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.
Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.
"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."
The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.
"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!
(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)
Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.
Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.
Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.
He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.
"Have fun bats and birds!"
The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?
It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.
An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.
Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.
He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.
"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.
Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.
Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
A continuation
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j-jinxee · 4 months
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Ooo can you write about about how Alastor would use restraints, he’d defo get turned on by how helpless reader would look when they’ve got a chain wrapped around them, with his need for control.
PRISONER ☆
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TYPE - Alastor x Reader
WARNINGS - restraints/being tied up, semi public sorta?, ownership, swearing, oral receiving, humiliation.
authors note - tysm for requesting!! especially for Alastor hehehe, hope u like ittt >:)
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That night came back to you every time you got pulled down by that fuckers chain. The most regrettable night of your life, you were so far gone you really thought he'd help you. Making any deal while you were drunk was a bad idea, but making a deal with the radio demon?? Even worse. He's made you do sickening things for him in the past, all things you never would've done if your soul wasn't on the line; but nothing that made your stomach turn quite like this one.
You made the mistake of confronting him right before he went on the air. That pissed him off enough, and thought you needed a reminder of who you belonged to. Hence why you're tied up in his radio tower, chain around your neck, and screaming his name for all of Hell to hear.
Alastor made you crawl up to his radio tower, him holding the chain, then tied you up with dark sorcery, and clicked "start broadcast".
"Hello my dear viewers! Hope you're having a grand evening. Today will be a little different to my usual style of broadcast, but I trust you'll enjoy it nonetheless" His voice turned scratchy and demonic towards the end, making you nervous for what was to come.
The only luminance in the tower was the faint glow of the red sky, and the shine of Alastor's eyes. You had no idea how many people were listening right now, or what was even going to happen, you just hoped no one could tell it was you.
You swore you could smell his arousal. It was rare, but you could tell he liked seeing you chained up. He never expressed any romantic feelings towards you, only savage, animalistic needs to over-power you. You let him have his way, since there was nothing you could do about it, but this? This was a little past your limit.
Your hands were behind your back, legs bent, and whole body hoisted up. You had no clue what happened to your clothes, they vanished off your body when the ropse appeard around you. Your neck was angled slightly up from the floor, enough to see a little out the window, but not enough to hurt. That's when you felt him.
You gasped abruptly as you felt his hot tongue on your clit, "Ah!" It took you by surprise - to say the least. You obviously wanted to hold back your moans in order to keep some dignity... but, holy fuck he was good.
It was like being chained up increased the pleasure, you swore it'd never felt this good before. His tongue made you squirm, but squirming hurt, especially when you held back. You thought you may aswell give him what he wants instead of agitating him even more.
"Mmm- Fuck! Alastor please"
"Please what my dear?"
You didn't even know what you were asking for, you wanted to say please stop, but you knew you couldn't, it felt too good.
"Pl- Ah! Please don't stop!"
Yeah real good fucken choice, beg him to keep going and see where that'll get ya.
The next thing you felt was his tongue diving deep into your core, fuck. You knew he'd be skilled, but this was on a completely different level.
"Ohhh, fuck! I'm- I'm gonna cum, ah!"
Your legs attempted to collide, obviously being held back by the rope. As Alastor felt your thighs start to shake, he only increased his pace, sending you over the edge. The coil in your stomach finally snapped, sending shivers throughout your whole body as you screamed Alastor's name for all of Hell to hear. Even if they weren't listening to the broadcast, they might’ve still heard you.
Your vision was blurry, your face was hot, and currents of pleasure still shot through your core like electricity. Alastor got up and made his way to the control panel, "I hope this is to your liking dear listeners! Because we're just getting started"
...you've gotta be fucking kidding.
----------------------------------------------------
Rlly rlly hoping u like thisss 🤞🏻 I think it's aight, I just love writing for Alastor tbh hehe. Cheers x
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fantasyandshit · 2 months
Text
Replaced
Type:two shot
Part: 1/2
Part two here
Masterlist here
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Based off of this request
Hope this is heart breaking enough anon!
Trigger warnings- slight mention of ED behavior, torture, and implied violence
I stare out at the gardens, I used to think they were beautiful, I tended to them everyday, watered and checked all the plants, made sure the soil was perfect and they got the proper mix of shade and sunlight. I walked in them, sat on my bench under the giant cherry blossom tree and read my book. The gardens were always my space my place. I loved those gardens, always marveled at their beauty.
But not now. Now as I stare out at the gardens I’m disgusted by what I see, I hate the new flowers and the soil. I hate looking at it and I refuse to walk in it. I hate that my family simply gave my place to her. That Azriel gave it to her. That he sits out on my bench all cuddled up with her. Deep down I think that’s what disgusts me. Seeing him with her. No. Disgust isn’t the right word. It makes me sick, fills me with agony that spreads through my bones and boils in my blood. Sends jealousy spiking through my body like bolts of electricity.
When the middle Archeron had come into the family with her older sister- it was fine, everything was fine. My family was happy and although I always felt off about the female, I was civil. It was fine as my family turned to them, it was fine. They needed time and attention, like new animals. I let my family give them that. It was fine when I was asked to let her work in the gardens she ‘loved so much’. It was all fine.
It was all fine until they asked me to let her simply take over the gardens, ‘just so she can keep distracted and busy whilst adjusting’. It was fine till I came crying to Rhys about a vision I had, one of the first in nearly a month- I had seen something, I heard people screaming and blood everywhere, but ‘Elain hasn’t seen anything. It’s fine.’ It was fine till Azriel- my best friend for the last 500 years, the male I harbored feelings for. The male I loved for at least 450 years, turned to her. It was fine till she became all consuming. It was fine till ‘Elain needs me Yn.’ ‘Yn I have to go- Elain needs me right now. You know this is hard for her.’ ‘ Yn, stop being selfish- Elain needs me.’
It was fine till she became all consuming. Till no one listened to me, till Azriel- my mate, the man I loved with all my soul, left me for her. Turned a cold shoulder and left me. Till my family soon wrapped around the sisters and I lost them all.
Now I stare out at the gardens I once loved with disgust, nearly puking at the sight of the two cuddled up together, laughing about cauldron knows what. Now, as a headache comes on, the ones that always do before a vision, I simply slouch back in side, going to lay down on a couch. I want these seeings gone. No one cares anyway. If it doesn’t come from Elain Archeron, it means nothing. I mean nothing.
And it is now, as I lay myself across the chair that it truly sets in. He loves her. They love her. She is better. She is more beautiful and interesting and soft and she isn’t tarnished from years of fighting as I am, she is not the crazy woman I have become. She is Elain, she is all things soft and sweet, she is radiant and all consuming, she is powerful and all seeing. But most of all, she is the one Azriel wants. Not me. Her. He wants Elain Archeron.
———
I walk to the dining room for dinner, my head is a bit foggy and my eyes hurt. I keep my gaze down as I sulk into the room and take a seat next to Morrigan who talks idly with Feyre. It’s as if I’m invisible, no one even looks up to me as I walk in or sit, but of course, as soon as Elain comes in, everyone turns to her, conversations stopping. I simply look to my plate, fidgeting with my hands.
As everyone serves up their food, I sit, I’m not hungry. Plus, Elain is thinner, I want to be pretty like her and I have to be skinny to be like her. “Why aren’t you eating Yn?” Mor’s voice filters through my ears and it takes a moment for me to process them.
In a scratchy tone, caused by not using my voice, I reply. “Just not hungry I guess. Visions take it out of me.”
“You had a vision?”
“Yep. Third one of today.” My family pauses at that.
“Third? Today?” It’s Rhysand this time as his brows draw inward.
“Yes, they’ve been happening more and more often, I’m having at least 2-3 a day. I just want to rest.”
“Why haven’t you told me about them?”
“Because of two reasons. Rhysand.” His name is a hiss off my tongue as I speak, finally loosing my cool, “One, you would not care nor listen, haven’t for a single one of my seeings in the past month. And two- starting tomorrow I will no longer be working for this court.”
“What do you mean by that? Not working under this court?”
“I received a letter from Eris- he is ready to execute his plan to take over the autumn throne tonight and I shall be there tomorrow morning to begin my duties as his second in command.” The table is frozen, mixes of horror and sadness painting my ‘families’ faces.
“But-Yn you wouldn’t betray us like that would you?”
I can’t hold back the humorless, dry, laugh that leaves me. “Betrayal? I have Betrayed you?” My head whips to meet Rhysands as I stand and back away from the table. “Rhysand I have done nothing but support you. I was there for you three-“ I point to the three Illyrian males at the table, “in the war camps, I have been here sense we were learning to fly! I was there under the mountain! I lossed my gods dammed wings for you Rhysand. For you! Because you were my family.” Tears begin pouring down my face as I let everything I had bottled up out, “ I was there to support Mor after Eris’ ‘terrible acts’ and I kept my mouth shut about it being a half truth.” I look to the blond across the table who try’s desperately to avoid my gaze.
“I was there on the battle field. I told you my seeings no matter what they were. I stayed as I watched my family replace me, as I watched the man I loved fall for another over and over again. I stayed as my things were taken from me by her.” My finger points to the middle Archeron, Azriel moving slightly in front of her, “I have stayed as my family was ripped from me, I stayed and supported all of you even as my so called family replaced me, as the male I’ve loved as long as I’ve known him, as the male I have loved with my very soul, my very being, my mate.” I look into Azriels warm eyes, “left me for another, as my mate and my family left me in the dust for a new shiny toy.”
I breathe as I take a moment to survey the room, faces filled with shock and horror and sadness watch me. “So yes Rhysand.” It’s a sigh this time as I speak, tired, downright exhausted, “yes, I am leaving. But I am not leaving anything behind. I was already a ghost here anyway. I am leaving and taking my seeings and duties with me. You do not listen to them anyway, it will be no use to you.”
I snap and bags fall into my hands, I turn to the door, silence filling the room, “your my mate?”
“Yes Azriel- I am.”
“Yn wait let me-“
“Save it Rhysand.” I turn on my heel, “ I am leaving to a new kingdom, one that has much potential under their new leader. I am leaving to a court that I see thriving, I am leaving from the court I see crumbling- and it will not be my fault when it does.”
I turn back to the door, a gust of wind hitting me as I step out, taking the hands of the new high lord of autumn. Ignoring my family’s pleas and Azriels yells as I am taken back home.
—————
Okkkkk here it is! I hope you all enjoyed and thank you anon for the request!! Love y’all!
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juiles · 8 months
Text
We’re always with you.
Requested: yes.
Summary: you have autism and hide it from the team and your girlfriends until one unfortunate party incident.
Pairing: wandanat x autistic!reader
Warnings: overstimulation and a small panic attack
Tags: hurt/comfort
Masterlist here.
Taglist here.
Request form here.
A/N: sorry it took so long for me to respond to this request but I really hope you enjoy!! If you want something written message me or send me an ask!!
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“Come on detka. It won’t be that bad.” Nat muttered into your ear as she held you from behind as you stared at your form in the mirror, her arms wrapped around your waist gently. “It’ll be a couple of hours then we can come up here and cuddle okay?”
You hummed looking up, meeting her eyes through the mirror. At the moment, all you wanted was to rip away from Natasha, strip down, put on some safe comfy clothes and burrow into your special duvet however you nodded, putting a small smile on your face. “Okay Natty…”
She released your waist, one hand dragging down to capture your hand gently and tug you away from the mirror. You pulled your hand back, a normal motion for you. The girls didn’t know why but sometimes being touched made your skin crawl however they never questioned it much. You fidgeted with your top as you followed your girlfriend out to meet up with Wanda.
“You two finally ready?” She mused turning around to look at the two of you. Her face turned from a smirk to a loving smile. “You two look amazing…”
“You look great too detka.” Nat said placing a soft kiss on Wanda’s cheek before the two of them turned to face you, your hands fidgeting with your shirt again. Each of them placed a chaste kiss on your cheeks before the three of you made your way down to the party.
The music was loud as Natasha pushed the door open, revealing a throng of people dancing around, milling around the bar and sprawled out on the multiple couches chatting. Going in there seemed like the worst idea however, you had gone this long without anyone finding out as you managed to avoid any parties that Tony had thrown. Your brain instantly started to scream however you put your mask on and followed the two in front of you to the bar where they both ordered a drink before turning to you.
“What do you want malysh?” Wanda asked placing her hand on the small of your back, bringing you back to the present. Your eyes glanced over to Natasha who had concern swimming in her green eyes. “Do you want me or Natty to order for you?” She mumbled into your ear. You nodded softly, one hand going up to fidget with your necklace.
After ordering your drink and receiving the three of them, the three of you made your way over to the couches where all your friends were sitting.
You sat silently between the two girls as they all chatted. Your body stopping you from talking, earning you a few glances from your concerned friends, glances you brushed off with a small excuse of being tired.
After a couple of hours, your mask had started to slip and your could feel overstimulation take over. Your hair being in your face was causing you to constantly push it behind your ears. The clothes you were wearing were too tight, the shoes pinching your toes, your makeup felt like it was burning your skin. The music suddenly felt like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. the throbbing lights causing a migraine to start forming behind your eyes.
You started to feel your fuse grow shorter and unfortunately it was Natasha that received your final snap.
“Oh my god Natasha. Just fuck off!!” You screamed, your whole body freezing as soon as you realized what happened. Natasha turned to you with wide eyes, confusion running over her face. “Detka…?”
Your head whipped around to face a mad Wanda. “Y/N! Natasha did nothing wrong! What is wrong with you?! You’ve been nothing but stand off ish all night! She was checking to see if you were okay!” You could feel electricity running through your veins so you stood and bolted out of the party, ignoring all the people trying to bring you back with tears now streaming down your face.
You pushed the door to the staircase open and bolted up to the living floor where you flung your old bedroom door open and closed it behind you. After some digging through your drawers, you found some old safe clothes and peeled the fancy clothes off pulling on the cotton material. You flicked the small light off and burrowed into your weighted blanket after whispering for Friday to sound proof your room and unplugging all the electronics. It couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes before you heard a soft knock on your door and you let out a soft whimper.
The sound shattering the hearts of the two women outside your door. Natasha pulled Wanda a little farther from your door. “Autism.” She muttered causing the witch to look at her in confusion. “She’s got all the signs. I don’t know how we’ve never noticed it before. It explains why she exploded.” Wanda’s heart shattered again taking a glance at your door.
“I snapped at her… what do we do?” She asked softly looking back at the assassin who wiped the tears off the brunettes cheeks.
“We put on some cotton clothes, grab her little stuffed animal and her other comfort items and go check on her. She may not want us to touch her and that’s okay but she needs to know we’re here to support her okay?” The redhead said with a soft smile at the witch before the two rushed off to their room.
Your heart felt shattered as your brain played Wanda’s little rant at you over and over again. You had messed up and now she hated you. You knew eventually your autism would ruin it for you. It always did. It’s the reason your parents gave you up and you never found a forever home, dealing with the shit side of the foster system. You hid it from the team over the last 3 years, the fear of being a burden to strong to tell them.
You were once again snapped out of your thoughts with a soft knock on your door. You didn’t respond but the door opened anyways letting in some light causing you to whimper, pulling the cover over your head blocking it out. You heard two sets of footsteps and the door closing before pulling your head out of your blanket to see a sheepish Wanda and a concerned looking Natasha holding all your comfort items.
“Im so sorry detka… i shouldn’t have snapped at you…” She muttered placing your bear in your arms before taking a step back, your hand instantly reaching out towards her and your other girlfriend making grabby hands. “Do you want us to hold you malyshka? It won’t be too much?”
You shook your head. “Pressure…” Your voice came out shaky and almost silent. Both girls climbed into bed with you, you settling your head on Wanda’s chest, Natasha spooning you from behind.
It took around 40 minutes for you to finally feel okay to talk. “Im sorry… I-I-I… I didn’t mean to be a burden… I tried so hard to be normal… but I can’t…”
“And you don’t have to love. You are NOT a burden and anyone who ever called you that is wrong. You are you and that is beautiful.” Natasha muttered pressing soft kisses to your head.
“We love who you are no matter what you think. Your autism doesn’t change that detka. Being “normal” isn’t real sweetheart. Your differences are what makes you exactly what you need to be. Understand me?” Wanda said softly into your hair.
You sniffled and nodded softly in her shirt. Both women pressing kisses into your hair is what you fell asleep to that night.
The next morning, you woke up buried into your two girlfriends who were talking quietly. “Morning sleepyhead…” Wanda said looking down at you, you just tucking into her neck again with a soft whine. “How are you feeling?”
“Better but still tired…” You murmured. “I’m sorry again… i should have been honest with you but… i don’t want to lose you…”
“None of that. We aren’t going anywhere baby. Nothing will change that. Understand?” You nodded into the witches neck receiving soft kisses. “I can’t imagine how bad it was last night but you never have to go to one of those parties again okay?”
“I can go just not for that long… I have to learn my limits…” You said glancing up at Natasha who smiled softly.
“We will help you with that baby.” She said tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Because we’re always with you.”
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
Note
Hi sorry if this is a weird ask but my birthday is the 24th and I would love it if I could wake up that morning to both Lucifer and Alastor absolutely ravishing reader. Just pure smut and aftercare please
I did fem reader I hope that’s okay, it’s who I write the most so I thought maybe you just wanted what I commonly wrote. sorry it’s a little late, and also shhh it’s a secret because I can’t write birthday stories for everyone due to time. But you were the first to ask and you asked so far in advance so—
Surprise!
「warnings/promises: Alastor x FemReader x Lucifer, smut, barely a plot, tug of war, you are the rope, slight kink with breath play and restraint, attempt at aftercare, lost balloons, mention of dead deer (roadkill)」
🎂 Minors please no 🎉 🎈 this an an 18+ only party 🥂
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when the typically reserved Alastor now (seemingly) tipsy invited you to his room. He was always touchy, but the more he drink the longer his hands would stay on you. So naturally you said nothing at all and followed him out of the parlor.
And you had no idea what to think when the King of Hell saw you being pulled by the wrist and stopped you both.
There was some bickering about where you were going and what Alastor thought he was doing. The overlord making a joke about height and size. The former angel mentioning experience. 
Soon both wrists were being held but by different demons.
Ripping you apart seemed like a possibility, but somehow you ended up in an even more difficult situation to accept than second death.
Both refusing to go to the other’s room you were dragged to your own. 
Arguing around you, you were moved and turned before Lucifer snapped his fingers and your clothes fell off you at the seams. You turned to see both men nude and slowly leading you to bed. No complaints, you enjoyed just following their directions.
You couldn’t be sure how they came to their final agreement but soon you were lying on top of Alastor, impressive cock rubbing against your clit and a large portion of your lower stomach as Lucifer was fucking you from behind. The way he angled did feel practiced, so the king of lies wasn’t bluffing earlier.
Alastor's body was so warm under yours, the leaking of his precum spreading across your skin with every thrust from Luci’s hips. Your swollen clit and wet lips were sliding up and down Alastor’s base, stroking him harshly as you had no power over the movement.
“Good girl,” Lucifer’s hands roamed down your body, “Let me hear your voice.”
You could barely speak, the feeling of Luci’s large cockhead dragging along your walls was keeping your mouth busy with moans.
Another surprise, Alastor’s arms coming up and wrapping around you tightly. Any space between you was gone. With your body immobilized except for where your hips moved as you were pierced by Lucifer, Alastor began to hump up against you for the chase of release. The faster he moved, the louder and more uncontrolled your noises became.
“Stop being selfish, roadkill.” A yank of your hips pulling you a little too harshly down on Lucifer, ass flush with his crotch. A small scream into the radio demon’s chest.
“Now those are pretty sounds.” Alastor said through gritted teeth, ignoring the devil entirely.
Another tug of war, but not with your wrists. One man’s hands on your waist holding you still so he could rut into your soft flesh. The other man’s hands on your hips so he could bring to meet every thrust into your now dripping cunt. 
“Ffuuuck,” Luci clamored on top of you, hips pistoning down like an animal with a singular unmet need. “Gonna cum.”
Why did he feel the need to tell you? You could feel him already pulsing as he pressed against your cervix. Yet the words alone sent a shot of electricity to your lap.
As Lucifer’s hips slowed, Alastor took the opportunity to regain control. It wasn’t clear if he knew how good it felt when he rubbed against you. You clenched around the still stiff and twitching cock buried in you and focused on the increasingly wet slip of Alastor’s shaft over your swollen clit. The pressure of Lucifer’s body weight pressing you down added a new level of arousal you hadn’t felt before, the feeling of being held down, of your breath being restricted just in the slightest. Quickly you found yourself reaching a breaking point, a small mountain you barely made it to the crest of before Alastor came across your stomach and his own, your chest not escaping the impressive shot. The small movements of his hips afterwards and the feeling of him cumming so much pushed you over the cliff and into your own orgasm. 
Lucifer hissed above you, “Woah, that’s— you’re gonna make me cum again if you keep squeezing like that.” With a pat to your ass he pulled out and dismounted. Your shakey arms you lifted yourself off of Alastor, who was already holding a towel and wiping his chest clean. He was muttering to himself about something, his face screwed up at the sight. When you fell face down back onto the bed Lucifer crawled over Alastor to sit just below the swell of your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back. A groan, a mix of pleasured massage and painful bullying of sore muscles.
He was shoved off of you, Alastor rolling you over gingerly to wipe at your stomach and attempt to get your blanket clean as well.
“Definitely worth the brief nudity, dear.” His usual smile soft, you were confident it was a compliment.
Lucifer popped up again, a jack in the box of human proportions, “You’re an ass.” He reached for you hand and rubbed circles into your palms as he spread out the often used muscles there. “Feeling okay?” You nodded, a chill coming over you.
Alastor’s turn now, a green glow and a snap and you found yourself clothed again. Not your clothes, but you didn’t particularly care. Alastor was back to his usual attire, but for some reason Lucifer remained stark naked except his large hat. Had it been there the entire time?
Before you could find the will to ask, the doors burst open with a loud blaring honk of an air horn, “SURPRISE!” The hotel staff and star resident cheered, “HAPPY BIR-,”
“What in the actual the fuck.” Angel pointed at the obvious.
“Dad!”
“Nah I’m out.” Husk let the balloons float to the ceiling and left.
Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes clenched with not-at-all hidden aggravation, “What the fuck, you were supposed to trick her into going to the library Alastor! We were waiting for like 30 minutes! Pendejo.” 
Alastor shrugged, “Eh I had a better idea.”
A loud noise above you, a kazoo having appeared in Lucifer’s mouth. His hands shot up with an exhausted excitement, “Happy Birthday!”
why do I love writing reader being walked in on??
494 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 4 months
Text
Prologue: The Moirai
An Ichor Veil (of Flower Kings) masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 1.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: modern setting retelling of Hades and Persephone A strange dream, a strange visit.
For months, you’ve had the same dream.
You’re wandering a valley, your valley, a lush, green collection of rolling peaks, sweet grass and clover nearly velvet beneath your bare feet. The sun, high in the sky, does not moisten your brow, or cause you distress. You do not thirst. You do not tire.
You only meander, feeding the earth snippets of power, growing flowers and vines, a plethora of life, amusing yourself, as you do every night.
You roam this meadow, until your eyes open at dawn, bullfrogs and crickets and the raw chirp of birds tapping against the windowpane, brightening you to the morning better than any alarm clock ever could.
But tonight, the dream is different.
You’ve never seen so much Narcissus. It paints an idyllic picture, bright petals sparkling far and wide, blanketing the hills until they swoop low in the soft belly of the dream. They draw you in, pulling you down until you’re seated amongst a mass of blooms, Asphodelus scattered throughout, honeysuckle vine curling through the grasses, more fragrant than sea spray, filling the air with an intoxicating sweetness that you can taste, crystal like dew dripping with jasmine and vanilla.
It's beautiful. 
A creek babbles nearby, crooning in its own language, rushing trickle drowning out your thoughts and feelings, twisting and tugging until it’s hard to remember you’re in a dream at all.
Is this not your meadow? 
Is this not your own? 
The Asphodelus shivers, rocking back and forth in a cool wind, the kind that chills your skin, whips around your shoulders and tousles the thin fabric of your shirt.
“Hello.” The greeting startles you, twists your torso in the waist deep flora. Rise. Instinct booms, like your mother’s chide ringing a shrill bell for you to obey.
A figure stands in the meadow behind you, tall beside the sun, rays of golden light casting long shadow across their features. You squint, but it’s of no use. You cannot make them out.
“Hello.” You mirror, palms forward, heels digging into the grass. There’s a sharp prick, a sting that bleeds, and you curse, lifting your hand for inspection. “Acantha.” You hiss at the goddess, as if she has anything to do with your dreams.
Gold runs from the wound like the creek, slicking your palm, coating your skin in ichor, your own lifeblood.
The lifeblood of the Golden ones.
Lest you forget.  
The figure kneels in the grass before you, their head bowed, black gloved hands reaching, tugging your palm upwards, dragging a thumb through the mess of ethereal life.
“I’m fine, just a prick.” You assure in the silence. There is so much light, and yet none, nothing to illuminate the face or the features of whomever it is that occupies your dream.
A fragment of your mind, perhaps. A trick of your mother’s. 
Or an interloper. 
“You’re hurt.” The dark pitch of the figure’s voice is startling. It’s fathomless, beautiful like the coast of the Aegean, guttural like the shout of death. Raw ruby, not quite plucked from its sanctuary, not quite finished or ready to be seen, a secret gem, only for you. The meadow rustles, thousands of faces in the little flowers leering, scowling, blue sky dimming into grey. Thunder shatters the tranquility, clapping in the distance, a garish boom sending electric shocks through the clouds, all manner of rumbles rolling over the hill.
Rot. It fills your soul in a flood, current wrapping around your ankles and tugging, like a thousand Oceanids lay at your feet, crying. Screaming.
But your hand is warm. Your hand is warm and it is held, for a moment, a moment in which you feel dramatically unlike yourself, unlike the fledging goddess you claim to be, unlike the unloved one you’re known as, and then-
it is cold. Your hand. Your heart. You. The being, the figure, is gone.
And you are alone.
The Greenhouse is quiet. An easy peace, so easily disturbed by comings and goings, friends and patrons, all manner of beings and others, stopping in and out.
They say hello. They ask for help, advice, favor. Some things you cannot give, even to some visitors who you hold close. Dearly.
These moments alone, moments of solitude in the Greenhouse, and some that you love the most. Moments when you're alone with yourself, your power, your connection to the earth. When you can feel it the most, the worms in the dirt, the roots desperate for water, the blooms aching to flourish. You are all these things, when you're alone. A power unto yourself. A goddess of life, of fertility, of Spring. The essential reawakening. The circle of seasons. 
The secret weighs heavily. 
But a goddess of Spring, is no mere goddess of Spring, your mother's voice echoes. A goddess of life, may as well wear a target on her back. 
This morning, when the dew still refracts the light of the sun and birds are singing, no one comes. You sit alone, pruning, detangling, taming a pothos, encouraging its lovely green vine to live on its own. It protests, and you huff at it, conjuring slivers of magic, feeding it kernels as if you care for a child, trying to encourage it to eat. 
“You must try, you know.” It curls around the back of your hand, lovely silver-white speckled leaves shimmering in the morning’s light. “You’re not staying here. The Greenhouse is full. I don’t have any more room.” The overcrowded shelves and carts agree, saplings and ivy and atropa belladonna all singing in unison, quivering voices rising in protest of the pothos’ weak effort. “See? You’ll make everyone unhappy.”
“You have a habit of talking to all your plants?” A musical voice chimes from the front door, and you jump from the stool, a book on your right clattering to the concrete.
“No, I…” Your voice fails, the woman in the doorway steps closer, allowing her mortal appearance to fall away, removing her Cloak and revealing her true identity.
The Moirai.
The Three who are One. 
She turns her head to the east, a flash of the Maiden surveying your workbench, and then the Crone shines through, all faces eventually melding into one.
The Mother. 
“Daughter of Demeter.” She inclines her head in greeting, and you blink rapidly.
“You...” What are they… is she, doing here? “You shouldn’t be here.” You swallow the fear that races in a cold rush under your skin. A frozen river runs in your bones, frigid rapids roaring, trapped beneath a thin sheet of ice, churning your power into a weapon of terror, an uncontrollable force that tries to build beneath the swell.
“Your mother is preoccupied.” She waves her hand; unease props the hair up on the back of your neck.
“What do you want?”
“To see you.” She strolls, careful, casual steps echoing off glass. “Finally, in the flesh.” The sh sound hisses, and your power pulses, pushing forward in preparation. “You are truly as lovely as they say, little Spring Goddess.”
“I’m not the Goddess of Spring.” You rebuke, and the resounding chuckle is dry wine, a tatter of bubbles that on her tongue that sours your stomach.
“You are not.” She nods. “No. You’re so much more now. You will be.” She steps closer, red lips perfectly lined and plump, pursed as she stares you down. “I’m satisfied.” She murmurs, and even though she looks right at you, it’s as if you’re not in the room.
Rain drops patter on glass panels.
“Pity.” She frowns, and then winks as a young woman, as an old one too, vanishing from sight with each step she takes to the door.
The clock ticks too loudly, and it feels like doom. Like a shattered mirror, shattered reflection, shattered life.
The Moirai have never visited you. 
Why now?
Outside, a screech owl hoots, startling you backwards, a hand rocking down to the work bench in an effort to steady your trembling legs.
“Ouch!” you shriek, flipping your palm over, a pair of pruning shears dug into your skin, golden blood leaking out around their cool metallic points. “Fuck.” Your lips cover the puncture, tongue flicking against the rivulet of ichor.
The screech owl screams.
The throne room is silent. Darkness ebbs, inky webs slithering across the floor, shadowing the blood red stone that spills from the mouth of the dais, two identical, straight back chairs sitting proudly in the middle of the hall, dwarfed by columns stretching so tall Johnny swears they surpass the boundary of this realm. Their onyx marble shrouds Simon, who stands maskless, his hands clasped behind his back, peering into the pitch-black pool of liquid vibrating inside a silver bowl. 
“Who is she?” There is a woman in the seeing glass. Beautiful, bright, an overflowing bouquet of narcissus, an endless melody of spring, the promise of early death. The greenhouse breathes in her presence, all nature of blooms and blossoms straining closer, desperate to be within fingertips reach. “A goddess?” He looks closer, and Simon’s amber laden eyes affix his, broad palm tenderly cupping Johnny’s cheek. His answer is a whisper, something unearthly and severe as they are: two Kings of the Underworld, two souls twisted together, two macabre fates made one. His words are a looming promise, a vow so ruinous Johnny knows the Moirai howl and the Lethe trembles.
“Our wife.”
726 notes · View notes
briardoll · 1 month
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The Obey Me! Characters react to an MC who talks to themselves!
Lucifer actually thinks it’s kind of cute, but worries you may be lonely, or quite possibly mentally ill. He may ask why you talk to yourself so much so please assure him that you’re fine!!
Mammon thinks you’re crazy, “who likes talkin’ to themselves??” Maybe it’s a weird human thing, or maybe you’re just a weird human. Either way he’s gonna bust in and ask why you’re so passionate in your hatred for modern art. (The kind of stuff where they paint a canvas entirely blue or tape a banana to a canvas and call it art. <- defo isn’t something I’M passionately hateful about (¬_¬))
Levi understands completely what it’s like to have to converse with yourself because you know nobody else understands/cares about what you’re saying. Comes in and tries his best to listen and understand your thoughts!
Satan stands outside and eavesdrops on what you’re saying, uses the information he earns to one-up his brothers by knowing what you like/dislike without ever having asked or being told directly. It creeps you out until you come out of your room unexpectedly and catch him spying.
Asmo will originally think that your live-streaming something and check all your socials, (why would you stream without telling him!? He wants to watch every second you know!) when there are no lives to be found, he comes in and asks to help film the deviltube video with you, realizing there’s no video to film either he decides to get in on the conversation and even agrees with what you’re saying! He never knew you had that much in common before!!
Beel thinks you must be hallucinating, it’s because you haven’t eaten enough of course!! He brings you your favorite meals, drinks, and snacks so that you can regain your mental stability. You tell him that you just talk to yourself to get your thoughts out somewhere and it confuses him, he’s a man of not too many words, and if it’s not about food he’s doesn’t usually pay enough attention to form an opinion. Eats snacks with you and listens to what you have to say.
Belphie thinks you talk way too much about things that aren’t important. Does laugh when he hears about the time a cicada flew in your mouth one summer as a child. “So you’ve never known how to keep your mouth shut, huh?” Whoops, gave himself away, now you know he’s there!!! (Definitely never happened to me and I’m definitely NOT speaking from experience! Actually… yes it did. I’m scared of cicadas TO. THIS. DAY.)
Diavolo thinks you talk to yourself because he doesn’t make enough time for you! He feels bad that you feel the need to talk to yourself because he’s made you so lonely! Please promise him that he did nothing wrong! He’ll still deploy a little D. To be your conversation partner when he’s busy with paperwork.
Barbatos only requests that you speak to yourself quietly, the young lord is working you know! At least now he knows your likes and dislikes better and can better cater to your needs. (him and Satan have similar mindsets in this regard)
Simeon wonders in you’re recording some kind of podcast. He’s never found it online, but it doesn’t bother him because he can listen from right outside your door. Is always excited to know what the next episode is about!
Luke comes in and asks you if you’re sick, when you tell him no, he asks if you’re lonely. You could’ve just asked him to talk! Baked some sweets and shares them with you while you talk about your common interests.
Solomon responds randomly to your rhetorical questions from outside the door. You tell him to go away and that you weren’t talking to him, just when you think he’s gone he answers you again and laughs, it’s now a fun game for him to play when he visits you.
Thirteen plays pranks on you while you do it, knocks on the door really hard and then hides so that when you open it nobody’s there! Will go to the electrical breaker in the house and switch the lights in your room on and off to hear you scream in terror.
Raphael thinks a curse might’ve been placed on you, asks if he needs to rain spears onto the person who did this to you, you tell him that no, you weren’t cursed, you’re just like this. He now thinks you are very odd and may possibly need some kind of mental help.
Mephisto will not tolerate your stupidity. If there is nobody in the room, you simply don’t speak, you aren’t filming a video, you aren’t talking on the phone, and you’re certainly not normal for acting like this! Cease it at once!
424 notes · View notes
f1gments · 1 year
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DEVOTION - Gojo Satoru
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Flushed skin, soft kisses, moments of infatuation, whispers of adoration, crossing oceans, pure unadulterated love and seeking solace in one another with Satoru.
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Pairing: Gojo Satoru x female reader
word count: 7.4k words
R18, slight manga spoilers (?) making out, smut, nipple licking,oral sex, blowjob, vaginal fingering, missionary, doggystyle, vaginal sex, creampie,teasing & dirty talk, soft gojo, late night sex
a/n: pls don’t expect much from this fic lol. just wanted to update with a gojo fic i had in my neglected wips. enjoy!
If you’re a minor pls don’t interact I beg.
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You’ve been having those dreams again. 
The same ones where you try to stop Satoru from going to the station in Shibuya. You try to tell him that the person who’s stuck in the body of his best friend isn’t Geto Suguru, but an imposter who knew that he could manipulate Satoru by showing up that night. But it’s too late. The part that constantly appears in your visions is the one where you try to scream out tell him it’s a trap and to stop the person possessing Suguru’s body. 
You stir awake and slowly open your eyes just a little to see the moonlight brightening the bedroom. A sense of relief fills you when you realize you’ve just been dreaming again, that you’re in your shared apartment with Satoru again. You let your eyes close once more as you reach out an arm across the bed, searching for warmth. Instead, you’re met with cool sheets beneath your hand, touching the empty spot where he usually sleeps, guessing that he probably hasn’t gone to sleep yet. 
You sigh and slip out of bed to look for him. Your soft voice echoes in the hallway of the apartment when you call out his name and when you reach the living room, you see him standing at the balcony, in nothing but dark gray sweatpants. 
You’re not sure if he heard you since he doesn’t make any attempt to turn around. You come up behind him, gently touching his back with your fingertips. He starts to turn around but stops as you press yourself into him, hands and forehead resting on his back. Your eyes close shut when you feel his warmth despite how cold it is outside.
Sleep is a foreign concept to a man who barely lets sleep reach him, forever wide-eyed and watching the bright illuminating lights of the city and the few cars that drive on the streets below. It comes with being someone of his position. 
“I thought you were sleeping.” he quietly claims, his voice a deep smooth velvet.
“And I thought I was sharing a bed with someone.” you sigh, inhaling his natural scent and the sillage from the cologne that lingers on his skin. Satoru turns to face you and grabs your hand to hold it against his cheek. 
He then brings it to his lips, a small smile on his handsome features. He reminds you of the midnight sun that is beyond the horizon. His fingers are much longer than your own, the knuckles curling around your palm, almost swallowing it up whole and you find yourself thinking how uncanny it is that they fit so beautifully together, jigsaw pieces that match perfectly.
“What’s on your mind?” you ask softly. 
“You.” he replies simply before he leans down to kiss you deeply, pulling your body closely to his. He leans down, into you and quickly dusts his lips against your own, pretty and light and shooting electricity up your spine. The briefest of touches already makes you both feel utterly dizzy, drunk with exhilaration. 
Satoru kisses you like it’s the first and last combined – again and again. His cold fingertips turn warm as they cup your chin and your breath gets taken away in return for soft lips against yours, the gentle scraping of his teeth against your lower lip then the uproar in your gut takes a toll when his forehead meets yours, the same time his arm comes around your waist to pull you closer, as if he’s afraid you’d disappear. If you asked him to describe it, he’d probably say he’s incapable of doing so. 
But inside, kissing you feels like he’s a desperately dehydrated man, who discovers water for the first time in weeks and dives into the cool liquid, inhaling it until he feels full. Satisfying a yearning with an immensity that is only completely understood in all of its sensational intensity when he presses his lips to the soft seam of your own.
When the pair of you finally separate, catching your breath, you notice that his eyes are shimmering like an ocean reflecting moonlight, his white hair softly blowing with the gentle breeze. He appears completely dazed with his gently swollen mouth, intoxicated by the way you drew love from his lips with your own, evoked with the flick of your tongue.
You remember your blurry, teared vision struggling to recognize that it was indeed him the day he came home. That it was Satoru. They couldn’t grasp that it was his snowy white hair, now a slicked dark silver from accumulated sweat and drizzle, a few stray strands swooping over his sharp eyes.
A strong, sure hand brushes up your nightgown — nimble fingers bunching it into curls of soft silk and lace while your lips place themselves onto the pulsepoint on his neck. His hands go up to cup your chest where your nipples have slightly gotten hard underneath the blue fabric from his previous actions, making him grin. 
The man standing in front of you is Gojo Satoru to the absolute core, for anyone who knows him by his facade. This is the real him. But you have always been one of the special few that knew his labyrinth of a heart. The endless wrong turns and hurdles and traps. His burdens are your burdens but he never seems to think so. You also knew that Satoru had tucked his heart right beside your own and deemed the spaces between your ribs a place for it to call home. 
Your body gets pushed onto the cold metal railing of the balcony, but you don’t care in the least. As you drink in everything that Satoru gives you, your tongue slides into his mouth, eliciting a low groan that leaves you shuddering. The hands that grabbed your dress before are now pushing the soft fabric up your thighs. Higher, higher, not high enough. 
“Satoru,” you gasp as he impatiently thrusts his weight between your legs. 
“Not here.” You shake your head. “Why not?” he murmurs, kissing your neck. You put a hand on his chest to stop him and give him a look. “The neighbors could see us.” A playful smile pulls the corners of his lips up. “And? You say that as we haven’t done it in public before.” You slap a hand over his mouth. “Enough.”
You scoff and push yourself past him to enter the house. “Should’ve stayed in that damn box.” you mumble under your breath, making him chuckle as he follows behind you. You walk to the kitchen to get yourself a drink from the fridge. 
Your mind drifts to when Satoru opened up about who he was. Who he really was on the inside. The way he talked about being the strongest was like a heavy burden that sunk ships into the depths of dark oceans, that swallowed light and only provided eons of black oblivion. It seemed to hook into his bones and dragged him down, down, and at the time you wondered, for somebody who must have had the world at his feet with such abilities and power, how he could experience such a feeling, a distaste for the life that he has.  
You pour your drink into a cup and turn to look up to see Satoru staring at you with an unreadable expression as he leans against the kitchen counter in the opposite direction. 
“What?” 
Satoru, eyes still weighted with the pull of desire, gazes at your thighs, the way your dress has hiked itself up to reveal the smooth flesh further when you bend over slightly to place the cup into the sink. His fingertips itching to touch you, especially with the sensual flicker that skirts your gaze when you turn back to face him, though instead, he settles for words.
“Nothing, just admiring how beautiful you are.” he replies, giving you no time to feel embarrassed when he walks over to close the space between you both. You are instantly reminded of how kissing Satoru could never, ever possibly become old and boring. 
He brushes a gentle finger down your cheek then cups your jaw with a hand while gripping your hip with another. “I can’t decide on what I want to do with you.” 
Impending scenarios race behind your eyes, and all you can do is groan when you open them to look up at him as he towers over your smaller frame. “I know what I want,” you hum with a growing smile and brazen eyes.
“And what is that?” he hums in response, sending you careening into another plane when he brings up one of your hands to his lips and leans down to playfully nip on your index finger. 
Your vision focuses for a second to observe his tousled hair, his angular nose, and into bright mischievous eyes, blue of every dancing sky, infinite hues illuminated by newborn light. 
“Why waste time talking about it when we can show each other exactly what we think?” you tell him. In seconds, you’re lifted up onto the kitchen counter making you gasp in surprise as when the cold marble touches the back of your thighs.
A warm breath rolls down your face as he chuckles—a low, honeyed sound that took you by surprise the first time you ever heard it—before he murmurs, “I figured you of all people would take any opportunity to speak what’s on your mind.”  
You tut before rolling your eyes. “Well, now I do have something on my mind, but you’re certainly not going to—”
Satoru shuts your annoyance up with his lips again. He takes your arched back as an opportunity to slide an arm underneath your waist, kissing you deeper and rendering you thoroughly speechless. His mouth leaves yours only to descend down your jaw, trail down your neck, latch onto your pulse. Enthralled, your legs squeeze his hips. A mewl leaves your lips while your hands frantically skate across his broad shoulders, and when your nails leave tiny red half moons on his bare skin, you feel his cock harden and push further into your center. 
Seconds later, you’re being lifted up off the counter and Satoru wastes no time to carry you to your shared bedroom. 
Your back hits the mattress as a hand shoves the hem of your nightgown above your waist. Before Satoru moves any further, his lips nick your ear and cause you to elicit a soft moan towards the ceiling. “That’s it,” he whispers, pushing his mouth into your neck hard and making you bite your lip, “You sound so pretty, baby.” 
The groan you suppressed comes out in earnest, and your fingers dig into his shoulders at the same time. “I wanna hear you, too,” you admit, earning a low rumble in your ear. 
“Thought you didn’t like me being loud.” he teases. You click your tongue in annoyance. “That’s only when you talk too much, now hurry up.” 
“So impatient.” Satoru chuckles in amusement. “Open your legs for me.” 
The command makes you whine, but when you slowly spread your thighs only for Satoru to shove them wider, a full whimper leaps from your throat. A few light taps on your thigh are what you get before your lover cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not getting shy now are you?” he says with confidence and a bit of suspicion. 
“Shut up.” 
“I thought you said you wanted me to hurry up.” He says jokingly, until he notices the anxious expression on your face. 
Warm, large hands stop to rest on both your thighs. It’s not like you haven’t had sex during the past few weeks, since he returned. But somehow tonight things feel a bit different. You can’t figure out why. During his absence, you never really had the thought to see anyone else. You were too busy with missions and you mostly spent time with just Shoko or got too busy with work. Your days were filled with nothing but constant worry and anxiousness over Satoru being gone. 
No one could really replace the feelings you had for Satoru. The both of you had gone through a lot. There were too many precious memories together for you to simply be able to move on to someone else. So you really wanted to take things slow with him, just for tonight. To be able to feel all of him. To make up for all those days and nights you weren’t with him. 
“Are you alright?”
“It’s just. I want us to take our time for tonight.” You tell him simply. He immediately understands what you’re telling him and he stands to bend his body over your smaller form between the silken sheets. “I’ll be gentle then,” he murmurs before molding his warm lips onto yours once more. 
Each kiss he had given before had been full of passion, but this one is different. He’s being much more gentle compared to before. There is nothing but comfort in his touch, and you can feel any stress drip from your body and tenseness dissolve from your bones. If this is earth, then what is heaven?
Heaven is the gliding of slender fingers under your dress, looping around your lace panties. It is a groan tucked into the dip of your collarbone, a palm fasting itself against wet warmth that elicits ecstasy through your veins, the final shreds of your underwear abandoned to the floor, no longer required, never needed in the first place. It is the touch of his mouth marking fields of lavender and dusty rose across the sensitive skin of your throat.  You don’t register the way he has shifted far enough to close your legs together, slipping your panties off with ease, before widening them again. 
“Can I touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Satoru kisses down your neck again, but he descends lower, his teeth grazing the slope of your breast before his mouth picks one to kiss over your lacy gown. A warm palm closes over the other, squeezing before pulling the material down, and when your breasts spill over they are enveloped with his tongue and large hands once more.  “Satoru,” you gasp, arching your back and digging your elbows into the mattress. One of your hands shoots into his soft platinum locks, and your tug causes his grips on your hip and leg to tighten immediately. 
Latching onto a nipple, Satoru gives it a hard suck while twisting the other enough to make you cry out, and you can feel your legs shaking. “Don’t stop.” you cry, gripping his hair tighter. 
“God.” Satoru abandons your breasts to the chill of the room as he goes back down between your legs. Your dress is fully bunched around your waist and Satoru spreads your thighs apart, revealing your center like a rosebud in bloom. However, the pause that greets you makes you frown and close them. 
“Stop staring like that.” You push his hands away.
He ignores you and pulls your legs apart again. “Quit it,” he hummed, sounding too satisfied for his own good. “Be nice or I’ll change my mind and make you scream instead.”
Teeth nick your thigh, and the dark laugh you hear has you growing wetter than you already are. Satoru brings his face closer to your cunt, inhaling your natural musk. 
“You smell so good.” 
You don’t know how to respond. But the fingers that slide across your folds tell you that you don’t need to, and you throw your head back in pleasure. The wetness you feel has pooled onto the bedsheets and is now being coated on Satoru’s long fingers, one after the other rubbing your clit in slow, tiny circles and sliding deliciously up and down your slippery folds.
His fingers twitch against your covered slit. They drift across it wide, up and then down, and his mouth is parted in a complete loss for words. 
You start to shake in need, but a firm hand shoves your stomach back onto the bed. “Relax, baby,” Satoru orders. “Let me take care of you.” 
When you settle back onto the bed, you squeak as your hips are yanked forward to the edge. Your legs are hoisted onto Satoru’s shoulders. Words are lost on your tongue as his hot muscle dives into your center. You can feel the way your walls immediately flex, you can hear the loud wet laps and sucking noises when he works on your clit.
He feasts on you like a man starved. 
Everything feels familiar yet new again at the same time, like you hadn’t already experienced this with him before and the sheer intimacy has your eyes squeezing shut. Moans spill constantly from your lips. 
You meet his eyes again, and he shoots you a sideways grin as you feel a sudden swipe come across your heat, making you let out a breathy moan. You feel him moan into you, sending vibrations up your body making you grip tightly on his hair. 
“Satoru,” you gasp. Frazzled, your arms flail to find anything for purchase, only to settle on the sheets beneath you, where your fingers grip tight, knuckles going white. He looks up with a hooded gaze, groaning into your center when he sees your newfound position. Your lidded eyes drink in his wet lips, and your foggy mind barely realizes that it’s your juices that coats his face until he dives back down again. When Satoru’s tongue fully presses into your core before his soft lips suckle your clit, you cry out in need for more. Instantly, that is what you’re given: long, deft fingers enter your folds to the knuckle, curling up to hit a spot that has your entire being soaring into the ceiling. Exquisite. You’re floating. There’s something inside of you winding and winding. 
“Come for me,” is the last thing you hear before your body obeys. A white light blinds you and curls your toes, snaps your limbs rigid and has your knuckles aching as you grip the sheets even harder. The loud whine you hear is your own, you recognize, and you bite your lip to smother its volume. His warm mouth closes over yours, and you can taste yourself. 
“As much as I want your pretty lips around my cock right now,” Satoru rasps into your mouth, “I can’t wait any longer this time. I need you.” 
Your fingers are pried off of the sheets—you hadn’t known you needed help with it until Satoru assists you with slick digits of his own.  
Satoru moves back to pull both his sweatpants and boxers off. Broad, rippling shoulders come down to a defined chest and stomach, and powerful thighs encase a cock so large and pretty that you can’t take your eyes off of its curve. He looks at you smugly, to which you return with a smirk. 
You take him by surprise when you pull him by the arm and push him onto the bed. 
He raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 
“I wanna make you feel good.” 
“I thought I – oh fuck,” he hisses, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he steadies himself on his palms when you don’t waste any more time to lick a single stripe from the base of his cock to the tip before you wrap your hand around it, giving it a good tug with a twist of your wrist. Satoru grunts in response, his eyes fluttering shut as you repeat the gesture with your mouth a few times to create some lubrication for the movement of your hand up and down his growing shaft.
Satoru throws his head back with a long groan and his eyes leave yours to close shut as his mouth forms a small ‘o’ shape while your hand works. You switch between easing the tip of his dick into your mouth, circling your tongue around the head, and the tugs of your wrist until he is releasing breathy, choked sighs into the quiet air of your bedroom. 
You kiss sloppily around his pelvic area, toying with the sensitive skin as you graze your teeth across the upper skin of his thigh; He jumps a little at the movement, making you grin. You’re avoiding the thing he wants most, which is to be taken into your mouth fully. But you like the way he reacts to being toyed with too much to give in just yet— his head kicked back into the pillows, legs rigid and toes flexing, hands stilled on the covers beside him because they are just itching to grab your head and direct it to where he needs you most. 
The movement of your hand up and down Satoru’s shaft slows as you lower your face to his balls, sucking one into your mouth. You toy with it for a minute before moving to the other, all while keeping the slow movement of your wrist going. You begin to wonder how long Satoru will let you keep him in this spot, but just as you do so, he speaks up in his usual hoarse, quiet voice.
“Fuck,” Satoru grunts. “Can you stop teasing already?”
There is a part of you that wants to continue denying him, but you don’t. You let go of his balls from your mouth with a lewd pop and sink your mouth down onto his shaft as far as it will go. Satoru reacts with an outward groan and his body sinks into the mattress with relief at the warmth and wetness coating his cock.
You pull back to the tip but don’t let it leave your mouth completely, circling your tongue around and tasting the saltiness of his arousal before sinking down again. You hollow out your cheeks. The grunts, groans and breaths from Satoru only increase your desire to please him, so you fondle his balls with one hand while you work. 
Your own arousal coats the space between your legs. “Shit, baby, slow down,” Satoru croaks, hands finally making purchase in your hair. 
He combs the strands back from your face as you bob up and down a few more times; he looks torn between letting himself go in your mouth right then and there and tearing you from his lap so he can fuck the daylights out of you, but he finally makes a decision when his hands lightly push you away.
“You’re the one who rushed me.” You say after pulling back a string of saliva connecting from your mouth to the tip of his dick, and you swear you see Satoru swallow hard at the sight. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask, playing coy. It takes everything in you not to smile a little at his reaction.
“Is it wrong to think you look pretty like this?” he murmurs, reaching a hand out to swipe the bottom of your plump lips with his thumb.  
“It would disappoint me if you didn’t.” you hum before going back down on him, the vibrations drilling electricity through his cock. 
No, no more, he needs you right now. 
Satoru slips his hand from the side of your face down to your chin, his thumb lightly putting pressure onto the dip beneath your lower lip in a silent demand to stop. Understanding, you come up and lock your gaze on his mouth, letting him draw you into a fervent kiss.
“I need you,” He breathes into the grooves of your lips, shivering when the tip of your tongue draws lightly against his own. “I need to be inside of you, baby. Let me show you how much I love you.”
He wastes no time to get up and grab the hem of your garment mumbling hands up before he gently pushes you onto the mattress. Satoru caresses you, holds you, like you’d never once fucked, like he never had his cock inside of you and enacted the greatest moment of his life. Your skin is an uncharted map, marked with fingers of the past that were too intoxicated to think twice, to enjoy and devour the expanses of smooth flesh. But now, he has all the time in the world to do that. Every single day, every waking second. 
Yet he still cannot get enough of you. Not even when his lips reach your throat and you are gasping into the shell of his ear, blooming meadows of lilac and blue on the delicate skin while his palms smooth down your sides. 
Your back arches off the bed with when his tongue circles around the perked bud of your left nipple, and Satoru situates his thigh between yours so that each time you move, your heated center grinds against his leg. He switches between the two — sucking, grazing and tweaking your nipples with his hands and placing pressure on your most sensitive parts until a strangled moan escapes your throat.
“God, that’s hot.” He grins up at you, moving from your chest to slant his lips against yours.
Taking the length in his palm, Satoru hovers above your still form, eyes never leaving your body. Obeying, you push yourself up into the plush sheets, gasping in surprise when a strong body immediately covers yours right after. “You really are impatient.” 
“I am.” He smirks. Your arms are thrust above you, and you let out a quick mewl as your wrists are pinned together with one of his hands. “And you are going to learn why in a second.” 
Months of tension, loneliness, regret. All of them melted away at the sound of you calling out his name. With the strong arms caging in your vision, veins prominent under their skin, Satoru steadies himself as he slots his cock in between your legs. Your moan at the feel of his nakedness escapes in a soft puff, and your nipples pebble in anticipation. Your boyfriend gazes unabashedly at your sex. When his lidded eyes come up to meet your curious ones, he swoops down to claim your mouth again, tongue rolling across your lips and jutting inside to tether his passion to your heart. You respond in kind, trying and failing to release your arms from his grip above your head. When your attempts prove futile, your whimper echoes into his mouth, and his deep chuckle stirs something primal within your core. 
Satoru’s ravaging continues as he leans his sharp cheekbones into the side of your face, his tongue licking fire along your neck. Unbeknownst to you, one of his hands wanders down to your folds, and you jolt in shock when familiar fingers slide along their path.
“Please,” you gasp in his ear, tightening your arms again and bucking your hips to move anything, anything at all in response to the pleasure. “Satoru, please.” 
“What do you want, hmm?” 
Your first attempt at a response is cut off by his teeth nicking the pulse on your neck, and your entire butt leaves the bed and thrusts into his beautiful fingers, causing them to slide deeper into your cunt. Satoru’s proceeding groan is enough to have you keening back for more, but you still have it in you to answer with, “You.” 
“You already have me.” he says as a matter of factly. 
“No, I mean”—you gasp as he moves his fingers around, thumbing your clit and causing slick to gush from your center—“I mean, I need you.” 
“That’s the same thing, sweet,” Satoru tuts, knowing full well he is being an ass. “I need you to be specific for me.” 
As you feel the incredibly hard cock against your thigh twitch in want, you wonder why the hell your lover is stalling. You try to jerk against his strong restraint on your wrists again, and he laughs at your feeble attempt. “You’re impossible,” you huff. 
“And you’re going to tell me what you want, or else you won’t be getting it.” 
“Baby,” you pleaded, almost certain you weren’t capable of holding it in anymore.
Satoru shoves his hips down into yours, and the feel of his length presses into your core. You cry out in want, thrashing in earnest and groaning in a mix of frustration and pleasure. Smirking, he leans next to your ear and whispers, “Sorry. I just like seeing you like this.” 
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” you huff. 
“When it comes to you? Always.” There is a brief, light slap to your cunt, and your body jolts up until your fingers knock the dark wooden headboard above you. “What do you want, sweetheart?” 
“For my boyfriend to stop being an—” 
Another slap to your aching folds causes your back to arch again, your nipples grazing Satoru’s firm chest. “Try again.” 
You suck in a breath and exhale shakily, your legs straining with the constant pressure against your core and your arms growing beautifully sore above your head. 
“I want it.” You stare right into your boyfriend’s eyes. “I want your cock.” This makes Satoru snicker before his focus goes down to your pussy. 
“Fuck.” Satoru slides his fingers in one long swipe up your cunt again before bringing them to his mouth. As he licks them clean, you let out a shuddering breath, wondering how there is still room for you to swoon. “I knew my girl wasn’t shy.” 
Instead of a biting retort, you watch as Satoru leans down slowly to kiss you once more. He positions himself, sliding his hardened length against your slick folds and letting you feel just how thick and warm he is. 
His lips leave yours too soon, but it’s to tell you, “I’m putting it in, okay?” 
When you nod, Satoru slowly enters, and he’s just as big as before only since it’s been a while, it’s a bit of a stretch. You hiss at the feeling, and Satoru is merciful in the way he releases your wrists to sling an arm behind your head. His eyes never leave yours as he pushes in, inch by inch and both of your mouths fall open at the slick contact. Instead, breath rushes out, mingling warm in the air between your parted lips as you pant in anticipation. His hold on the back of your neck is gentle, and he whispers, “Oh god, thaaat’s it. I missed you so much. I missed this.”
You hum in delight. “Are you sure you missed me and not just the sex?”
“Believe me, it was the only thing that made me look forward to getting out of that place.” he says in a teasing tone. 
“You’re asking to be put back in that box so bad right now.” 
Satoru chuckles again before he leans down to kiss you. “I’m just kidding, baby. Don’t be so serious.” 
“Satoru, you’re killing the mood. Hurry up and fuck me already.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He replies before wasting no time to position his cock at your entrance. Satoru loves how your hair is splayed onto the pillow, teeth sinking into your lower lip as he slowly slides himself into you and it makes his mouth part at the image of it. Your freed hands immediately look for solace on his shoulders, gripping them while you follow his direction and take deep breaths. The intrusion starts to feel welcoming as your cunt adjusts to the sensation, your walls fluttering around his length and starting to suck him in further. 
“You’re so tight…” When Satoru is fully in, he stays as still as he can to let you get used to the feeling. “So, so good for me,” he tells you. “Open your mouth for me.” 
You immediately obey, sucking onto the two fingers he taps against your lips. You hollow your cheeks, and when Satoru groans, you swirl your tongue around his digits.
He swoops in to steal a kiss from you again, and he digs an elbow into the bed for balance as he starts to move. You love the way his brows scrunch in concentration, the way he looks down to watch himself make love to you while in the act, the way he makes you feel nothing and everything at once. When Satoru’s small thrusts end up not being enough, you tell him to go faster. He only laughs before obliging. 
“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. The fingers that had summoned you curl around your chin now, forcing you to look only at him; his grip too strong to break free from.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you grin, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. 
Instead of responding, your boyfriend picks up the pace, his muscles rippling under his sweaty skin and his stray strands of platinum hair bobbing with each motion. Your moans and mewls mix with his deep groans, and you have decided that those are your favorite sound in the world. Maybe even better than the soft pitter patter of the rain that begins to fall outside. Feeling full and complete is unrivaled. 
Flushed and with your eyes squeezed tightly shut, your brow furrowed, you murmur his name senselessly, over and over like a prayer, a plea, a please, please, please that slips in breathless turns from your lips uninhibitedly. 
The feeling gets overwhelming. The more you look at him, the more you feel like you’re about to cry whenever your mind reminds you of what happened. Days where his usual corny jokes and occasionally immature behavior were replaced with days of you being cooped up wishing he’d come back to you, hoping that wherever he was that he’d be okay. You feel the incessant sting at the back of your throat as you fight back the tears that threaten to fall onto your cheeks.
For this beautiful instance in time, nothing matters, absolutely nothing but this. 
Your body is acting on instinct, moving with him and even wrapping legs around his built frame. The grunt and low fuck you get in return is a prize you sigh at, and when Satoru pins your wrists above your head again, you revel in the restraint.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he tells you, to which you respond with a grin. 
Your legs slide against his buttocks and the rest of his skin, but your muscles endure. His cock rubs against your walls in the best way possible—each stroke deeper than the last—and you know you’re close to euphoria. 
But Satoru has different plans. He lunges in with two particularly hard thrusts before he pulls out completely, eyeing your messy state as he pulls you up, shifting you so that you find yourself on your knees somehow, underarms pressed into the mattress when he pushes your torso down with your ass in the air for him. He wastes no time to push his cock into you, pulling out a cry from you. He slides in easily from how wet you’ve gotten when he fucked you on your back. “Fuck you’re so wet for me.” You hear him say from behind you. 
You gasp as you drop down to your elbows from the feeling of him stretching you out in the most perfect way. He gives you a few seconds to adjust before he starts to move, and shameless noises start to leave your mouth instantly. You feel him grab your hips, and he starts to slam you back at the same time he’s thrusting forward, creating a deepness that has you seeing white. He bends over to kiss your back, making you arch yourself more into him. 
“Oh fuck.” you drawl out. 
Satoru’s lips ghost over your ear and you can feel him smirk against your skin when he asks, “You like that baby? You’re gonna show me what I missed, yeah?” he pants.
At this point, you don’t care how loud you’re being. Satoru on the other hand is enjoying this as much as you are. Each thrust has him feeling like he wants to have it his way and cum deep inside you. He moves back to look down where you’re both connecting, taking in the sight of his cock sliding in and out easily of your cunt. His teeth are caught between his lower lip when he sees the white ring around his cock, making him even crazier. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room, arousing the both of you even more. Your moans are muffled by the sheets as you bury your face in the mattress. Satoru’s palms imprint their mark on your hips as he pulls them as close as he can while he thrusts repeatedly into you. 
“Ah, Toru, go harder.” you cry out.
“Oh, you feel so good.” he moans as he begins to thrust harder into you. You’re too lost in the pleasure that you can’t find the words to speak. You can only afford to respond with high pitched moans every time the tip of his cock touches that one spot inside of you. You feel yourself nearly reaching your high when suddenly Satoru pulls out again, pushing you onto your back while he steadies himself on his knees. 
“Wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he smiles, before he pulls both of your legs apart to slide his cock up and down between your slick folds teasingly. A groan sounds from his throat, sending a rush through your body when warm lips come down to latch onto your breasts, and you throw your head into the soft pillow beneath you. 
“Satoru...” you whine. “Hmm?” he grins. 
“Stop teasing already.” you sigh in frustration. He chuckles at your neediness. “I know baby, it’s just fun seeing you like this.” You glare at him before you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Satoru takes this as a cue to take full command, settling on his knees and bringing both his hands to grip your hips as he continues to pound himself vigorously into you. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but the feelings are conveyed perfectly. Passion, longing, love. Everything unsaid the day he returned on your doorstep. 
“Oh,” you breathe, “Toru, you feel so good. Please don’t stop.” 
Everything from your hands gripping his arms to the way his cock fills you to the brim is too much, and your legs finally give and slam back down onto the sheets. 
Your body goes limp as Satoru thrusts into you, hard fingers digging wonderfully into your skin and brows knitted in pleasure. He continues to bite down on his bottom lip as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your pussy again and again, and your gaze is hazy as you watch his chest ripple with each thrust, enamored. You find sanity in the taste of his tongue and stability in your fingers grappling for mercy against his shoulder blades, close, so, so close.
You feel it before you recognize the winding. The edge you toppled from before is in reach again, and after a breathy moan you gasp, “I’m close, go faster, please.” 
God. He loves it when you get so needy, so desperate under him like this. He loves the way you call him by his nickname. It shows how much you’re tightly wrapped around his finger. He finds it adorable how one minute you’re giving him an attitude but the next you’re begging for him to fuck you. Just like right now. Which is why he doesn’t mind when you call him an asshole or roll your eyes at him when he says something stupid. Because at the end of the day, Satoru knows how to please you, he knows how to treat you right. That’s why you’re taking him like such a good girl, right? 
“Yeah? Then let go for me, cum for me baby.” he grunts, low and leaving no room for objection. One of his hands reaches down between you, a thumb rubbing your clit lovingly. The feeling is immense, and your vision blanks. Every limb in your body locks with pleasure. You can only describe the feeling as a constant wave crashing against your shore, slamming its powerful crests into you again and again. 
“You’re so beautiful.” You hear the words somewhere above you, but they’re blurry in your ears. 
Finally—slowly—your limbs settle back onto the bed. Satoru smiles down at you before asking, 
“Did I lose you before this?” 
“You’ll never lose me,” you confess truthfully. 
Satoru huffs in amusement before whispering something under his breath. You don’t have time to ask what he said before he starts back up again to chase his own high, and your body is heavy with content as you watch.
A hand threads beneath your hair to curl around the back of your neck and pull you up to press his mouth against yours. His lips are soft, and he sinks into the kiss with teeth and tongue and fire that makes your mind go blank. You let him nip at your lips until they’re swollen and sore, letting him twist his tongue against yours until you’re both gasping and his grip has turned to iron. You pour your entire body and soul into the connection, and your boyfriend's thrusts start becoming frantic and jilted. His free palm grabs your hip to steady your quivering form; your hands swing behind his shoulders. 
Fingers rake marks across his back, and Satoru outright moans into your mouth before his thrusts are so rough that your body is shoved up the bed. 
“I’m not gonna last much l-longer.” He stammers as you begin to tighten around him, letting him know exactly how close you are. His thrusts become quicker and erratic while he leans down closer towards your face. 
You almost feel yourself reaching the third orgasm of the night, but it’s him you want to come before anything else. 
And he does seconds later, his voice gravelly as he groans above your face — your list of favorite sounds forever multiplying. You feel the warm sensation of his cum shoot into your cunt. Your eyes wander up to Satoru’s face, which contorts in pleasure at the new found tightness of your heat. You use your last bit of strength to move your hips along to meet his movements, and then after about a minute he stills himself inside of you. As his forehead presses into yours, you hug him close, almost brought to tears again from the emotions spilling from your chest. For a moment, nothing else exists. Only the feeling of his bare skin sliding against yours, the connection between your legs, and the souls dwelling within appear on this plane. It’s a strange thing to think about. But it is yours to store away in your memory forever.
You both lay there in silence, catching your breath. Basking in the afterglow. Your boyfriend then turns to you, resting on an elbow. The early morning shadow that casts into the room catches onto your skin, painting it with a pale glow, making you appear ethereal. Your lips are softly pouted, dried out roses that puff patient exhalations of air in time with the gentle rise and fall of your chest.
You turn your head to him. “Satoru?”
“What is it?”  
“I love you.” 
“I don’t blame you.” he grins. You glare at him and slap him on the chest making him laugh. “I’m kidding, baby.” He smiles down at you genuinely. “I love you too. More than anything else in the world.” 
Your lips connect, they connect in warm, rosy flesh, as if nothing could ever go wrong. That no matter what obstacles you both face, what hardships you must conquer, you will always get through it together. 
The same three words slip down your face once more and into your mouth, only to be thrown out again as you reciprocate. As you both pant in exhaustion, you already feel sleep start to claim you again as the early morning light peeks through the sheer curtains.
You make love two, four, twenty or a hundred times, enough for you to lose count on your fingers and for the sun to ascend from the horizon. It is moments like this, watching you out of the corner of his eye, absolutely adoring the soft exhalations you let out and beating heart against his bare chest, that he knows what he feels so strongly within his heart is the unconditional truth.
He is helplessly in love with you.
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lucid-loves · 2 months
Text
Personally His
Imagine: Simon Riley rewarding the 141’s personal assistant for doing a good job with putting up with him.
CW: MDNI, Smut, Office Sex, Slow and Deep, Praise Kink, Edging
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You on his desk, your back arching against the smooth oak as he runs his hands over your hips. Simon Riley loves looking down at you, blouse buttons open, pencil skirt hiked up, new tights ripped to reveal your dripping cunt. Every now and then, his hands will squeeze your thighs hard, making you gasp and quiver before he massages the pleasurable pain away. 
“You’ve been such a good assistant, love~” He praises in his deep, husky voice that never fails to give you shivers. While you were everyone’s personal assistant within the 141 team, Simon was quick to make you his with rewards. This is one of them.
“I’ve never seen my desk so organized. You must’ve spent a long time fixing it for me. Such a good girl~” He continues, spreading your legs further apart to get a better look at you. You whimper, pussy clenching in anticipation for his cock. 
Everyone except Simon had been easy to take care of. He’s been messy, neglectful, and always busy. He’s snapped at you and been curt with you a few times too when you invaded his space. It wasn’t until you saved him from attending court for an unpaid parking ticket that he let you really help him out. 
After that, you’ve been rewarded for your work with flowers for your own desk, lunches on him, and now a good fuck over your hard work.
“S-Simon. . .” You sigh, senses on fire as you feel his tip press against your entrance. You are eager, but also nervous. You glance towards the closed and locked door, your heart shuttering. 
He takes your chin to redirect your attention onto him. His eyes behind the mask gaze at you hungrily. “Don’t worry, love. They won’t be back for a while. You’re all mine.”
His cock plunged into you before you can respond, bottoming out within a second. His hand covers your mouth, muting your near scream as you feel yourself stretch to accommodate his length. Plunging into a sudden orgasm, your body trembles and you struggle to catch your breath. Your hands go over his, gripping hard to try to regain some semblance of control. All you can see are stars.
He feels your pussy tighten around him, soaking him already in more nectar than before. You knew he's smirking under that dark mask. “You cum already, love? Someone must’ve been looking forward to this. Such a good girl~”
Electricity runs up your spine as he calls you the name you’ve been wanting to hear since your first day here. You were his good girl. His good little assistant.
He slowly rocks his hips, forcing you to feel every single inch of him. Forcing you to take him as deep as you can. It takes everything in you not to moan as loud as you want. To scream his name like he's equally yours. The team may have gone to a meeting, but it didn’t mean that passerbyers wouldn’t be able to hear the hot sex behind the door. 
Simon presses his hand against your lower stomach, making sure that you can feel all of him. “That’s it. That’s a good girl. Look at you, taking me so well.”
Your toes curl within your heels as he continues to thrust slow and deep. Biting your lip helps control the desperate whimpers that hung in that back of your throat. Suddenly, Simon thrusts hard, making you release that pretty voice that he has grown to like. Even when you were nagging him to take better care of himself, he wouldn’t want to hear it from anyone else. 
“Sorry for being difficult at the start. Promise to make it up to you, but I wanna hear your moans too.” He admits teasingly, pulling and pushing his hips hard to properly fuck you on his desk. The wet sound of your cunt reverberates throughout the office, making you blush.
You can barely take it anymore. He's fucking you hard, but still slow. You want more. He knows you want more by the way his exposed eyes crinkle with a hidden, devious smile. You had to beg for what you wanted. “P-Please, Simon, more!”
Your begging was only slightly rewarded. He settles your legs on his shoulders and presses your soft thighs down against the polished wood. Gloved fingers dig into your skin, only making you more aroused from his man-handling. But his movements are still only slow, deep, and hard. It keeps you away from another orgasm that you crave so badly. Edging you. While you do want more, you are enjoying feeling all of him please your pussy. 
He enjoys your heat pulling him in as well. Though, he can be a little more patient than you. He wants to make sure that your next orgasm will rock your world. That and he wants to enjoy his time with you before he had to share your attention with his team again. 
“Not yet, love. Be a good girl and be patient while I savor this some more.”
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