#gender is crazy but i would let ray toro feminize me as much as he wants

[xocasper]

I wanna read Ray toro hurting me (sexually) and enjoying it (sexually) cuz of his enormous cock (sexually)

this ask is so funny so i'm posting the excerpt under it. here is ray toro x fem reader sadomasochism/size kink/literally fucks you dumb AND numb but he's really nice about it/dacryphilia/straight up porn by yours truly. enjoy xoxo

his cock is buried inside of you, stretching you open more than his fingers ever could. it’s a snug fit but you take him so well, biting your lip to distract yourself from the burn. it hurts in the best way possible, and your shallow breathing fills the silence as he pushes deeper.

“take all of it for me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

you feel like he's going to split you open, letting out a soft sob and squeezing your eyes shut, trying to prevent them from watering. he notices, caressing your cheek and shushing you softly. he knows you can take it. he’s never bottomed out, knowing how sensitive you are, but you swore that you could handle it. you want to behave for him, letting him stuff you full of his cock like a good girl should. he wouldn’t push you if didn’t want this, and he's watching you carefully to make sure he still has your consent.

“look at you, my pretty girl,” he coos, watching his cock disappear inside of you, nearly every inch enveloped in warmth. “you’re doing so well.”

another cry spills out, muffled as you clasp your hand over your mouth, clenching hard around him. he moans and your thighs threaten to close, but his hands swiftly move to pry them open. he’s so close, giving a sudden push and sinking in completely. tears well in your eyes and you quickly blink them away, but he’s already seen them. it’s totally sadistic, but it turns him on more to see you like that. you’re crying over his cock, quiet sobs escaping you because he's too big for his sweet girl. but you’re so obedient, suffering through the unbearable stretch and digging your nails into his biceps, taking a shaky breath before telling him to continue.

“please,” you beg, voice teetering on the edge of breakage. “please move.”

you sound vastly uncertain, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. “are you sure?”

his voice is so gentle, and he’s caressing your thighs as if he’ll shatter you. his delicacy has your heart pounding, and you answer with as much confidence as you can. “yes, please.” 

god, you’re so fucking good to him. slowly, he pulls his hips back, listening to you gasp as your muscles contract again. just as soon though, he’s pushing back in, and the burn and hot tears return. yet, everything’s alright—you’re into the pain as much as he is, moaning at the stretch and soaking his cock.

“you’re doing so well,” he murmurs, lazily rolling his hips against yours. “gonna let me come inside you, baby? fill this pretty pussy up?”

you nod, whining as he nestles himself inside of you. in almost every way, you’re his, fueling his lust even further. it’s insatiable, and ray’s barely holding himself back as his hips rock against yours. he loses focus for a moment and tunes into his desires, giving a particularly harsh thrust, only for his eyes to shoot open and down to you. his first thought is to coddle you and apologize, but your lips are parted and you’re squeezing the life out of his arms. you’re enjoying it, and he can’t help but pause to admire you, briefly falling out of rhythm.

you’re at war with yourself. it hurts, but he's holding you close and gazing down at you like you hung the fucking moon. the pain makes your head spin, twisting into a sick sort of pleasure, and you're moaning at the warmth it brings. he's filling the air with the same sounds, and it makes everything remarkably easier. it's all in your head, and with a bit of effort, you can focus on ray. how he's feeling, how perfect he thinks you are for letting him use you. it's arousing, and you grip his arms a little tighter at his imaginary praise.

it’s not long before you're numb to the pain, your head too cloudy to feel anything, really. ray's pulling you a little closer as his pace picks up, his touch as loving as ever. your eyes flutter open to see his staring back, swimming with a foreign hunger. he’s always so gentle—he takes care of you, always meeting your needs and making sure that you’re okay. but now? you don’t really want to be okay. you want to see him basking in euphoria and moaning as he comes inside you, blissed-out after using you to fulfill his own fantasies.

“more,” is all you can manage, the word coming out as a whimper.

it’s a simple request, but it still surprises him. ray would never deny you anything, although he still glances down to make sure you’re certain. “really?” he breathes, panting as he shines with sweat.

he sounds hopeful, so you nod, moaning as he thrusts a bit harder. “mhm, god, please,” you beg, the words running together until you can barely understand yourself.

his name is on your tongue and it’s spoken like a prayer, desperate and pleading for him to ruin you. there's a building pressure, and everything starts to feel tense. he’s growing rougher, head falling forward as he moans without restraint, gripping your thighs and pounding into you until it hurts. even as the tears begin to fall, you can’t tell him to stop. you can’t take this from him, so you slur obscenities and cling to him like your life depends on it. and it’s worth it, because he looks so pretty behind the mess of curls, pupils blown and cheeks flushed. you’re the one who did this to him, wrecking him the same way he’s wrecking you.

it all starts to fade, becoming too much, too quick, and the pressure lifts. you’re oblivious to tears that roll down your cheeks and how you’re so much louder than he is. you’re just staring up at him with wide, watery eyes that beg him to come. warmth ripples through you but you hardly notice, too delirious and drunk on his touch to revel in it. no, you’re focused on him.

“look at you,” he muses again, so in awe at the sight before him.

it’s like he can’t believe that this is real. you’re a dream, his fairytale girl. you're so perfect and kind, giving everything you have to him, even if it hurts. he’s more aware of your orgasm than you are, feeling you tighten around him in repetition until his body’s doing the same. he’s panting and his hips are stuttering, thighs tensing up and he thrusts one final time. his word is good, and you watch as he comes inside you, focus melting into bliss as his breathing evens out. you’re still gazing up at him and he’s half convinced that he broke you. he carefully pulls out and memorizes the scene—your lax figure and stained cheeks, all proof of your perfection.

it’s quiet, save for his murmured praise. he kisses your temple, soft and easy, cradling you like a china doll. it’s like you’ve forgotten how to move, still so numb, but you take a rattled breath and form a few words.

“did i do good?”

he’s surprised that you have to ask, but he wastes no time reassuring you. “you did wonderful.”

you sniffle and roll onto your side, ignoring the stickiness that coats your thighs. everything else seems trivial—all you need is ray, his warmth and comfort, making sure you’re alright before he leaves to clean up. and he does, letting you nuzzle into his chest and play with his hair. his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer, resting his head on top of yours until you’re drowsy and okay. that’s all that matters to him.

your eyes fall shut, and there’s a light dip in the mattress when he gets up, leaving a cold emptiness in his wake. it’s not long until he returns though, placing water on the nightstand and wiping the mess away. you don’t register much more than that, just his embrace and a hint of pride as the same thought orbits your head.

you did good.