#they devoured that yes maam!!

[satocidal]

subby Gojo ftw 100%

You’re so real for this baby<3

Warnings: AFAB! Reader; I’ve not expanded much because I have to write this concept in a fic of mine 💀 but here’s the slightest of it; sub Gojo—dom reader; use of sex toys and calling the reader as “maam”

Smut undercut!!

Must feel a power trip, doesn’t it?

The strongest sorcerer known to mankind, down on his knees for you—he looks so so pretty, the white mess of his hair tussled about from your constant pulling, he loves it.

“Please,” he lets out a whine, his cock left unattended as you fuck yourself in front of him with your dildo—in and out—a steady pace, so much slower than how he’d do it. He’s desperate to show you just how much better he can please you, how much better of a toy he is.

And he’ll whine all the more as you only ever push the dildo inside you—deeper, “Y/n i- please,” a fat tear rolls down his cheek—such a mess he is for you, on his knees, hands bound behind his back to restraint him—so naked and vulnerable beneath your eyes, the view of his glowing red ass providing just the cherry on top through the mirror.

“Should’ve thought about this before, shouldn’t you?” You cooed at him, a smirk tugging on your lips as you got up, steadily walking up to him—fighting within yourself the urge to cum.

Your smiled widened as your eyes fell on his angry red tip, precum dripping down it, demanding your attention instantly, he really was the sight for sore eyes.

Propping yourself in front of him—legs spread you nodded, “Make me cum within two minutes or else you’re not cumming tonight, yeah?”

So used and toyed with he sat there, eager to just please you, “Yes ma’am,” a nod reverent as you sound found him between your thighs, tongue lapping at each and every drop of your juices—“jus’ fuck- toru’” you moaned, literal prayer to his ears, encouraging him all the more—you were already close.

“Such a good boy for me yeah?” And he’d only continue devouring your cunny because nothing else mattered right then, between your legs—except you and your climax.

He after all, really was your good boy.

-

But Satoru is also such a brat<3 which is always what leads him to such situations. He teases you on purpose on certain nights, during dates—of sometimes just embarrasses you in public knowing all too well, so well that right at home you’ll have him bent over the counter.

Legs spread apart to expose him and his hole and to leave his cute dick unattended.

And he loves the thrill of it—feeling a red, searing hot handprint of yours form on his ass—he’s filthy in the way he admires your handiwork on him too. And during all this if you rim his little hole? Baby he’s fighting so hard not to cum—but that’s fine too because then you’ll just punish him more and that’s what he wants<3

[cheetos-and-chopsticks]

Please…need you. Need you to devour me. - 📸

yes maam. *gently pushes off your pants*

[ilguna]

☼ strangled (Negan Smith) ☼

summary; He promised you that it wouldn’t come to this. You promised him that you had his back. Turns out you’re both liars in the end.

request; Hii quinn I noticed your requests are open so uh spare some negan angst pls maam👀🤲 

warnings; swearing, some good ol’ violence in detail, s8ep8-9 spoilers.

wc; 1.8k

–

When the fighting between Alexandria and the Sanctuary had begun, you warned Negan that you would support his decisions within reason. 

It wasn’t because you thought his reactions wouldn’t be justified. It was because you knew that if you ever got your hands on Rick or any group of his, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. There’s a line between self defense and ruthlessness, and killing a group of your men and women while they were unprepared and coming back from the Sanctuary was crossing that line.

To a degree, you understand. By the time that they’d killed your people, they’d probably ran into several of Negan’s, assumed the worst, and thought that they might as well rip out the weed before it had a chance to grow. Except, there’s a difference between yours and Negan’s weeds.

Negan likes to grow between the cracks of cement, claiming every part of the earth that he can spread his seeds to. Hilltop, Kingdom, Sanctuary, all of it belongs to him. And if he wants some pathetic paradise like Alexandria, then he’s sure as hell going to plant his roots, no matter how hard Rick tries to yank him out. 

As for you, there’s a reason why people forget that daisies are also weeds. When your community is practically doing nothing, just sitting and looking pretty, it’s easy to take you as a friend and not an enemy. Why do you think you’re welcomed into the other communities and Negan isn’t?

If it weren’t for the fact that Rick’s group were a bunch of senseless murderers, you’d likely befriend them and slowly slip the noose around their neck, allowing Negan to take over. At least then it would be painless.

Unfortunately, they weren’t smart enough for that.

The only reason why you didn’t tell Negan that you’re all in is because there would be a point in time where it’ll go from a demonstration of power to a full-on struggle. 

At first, he wasn’t happy with the news. How could you, his favorite girl, be so bold as to tell him no, especially after everything he’s done for you and your community? The protection, the fuel, the labor, the food. To him, he’s sacrificing all he has and you’re just dipping your toes.

You were there when he killed Rick’s friends.

You watched everyone’s reactions, the shock on Rick’s face. You saw how Negan dragged him into the RV, and brought him back after sunrise. And he still hadn’t let up, even after what Negan had done to him. It wasn’t until his son was threatened did he finally bend to Negan’s will.

You knew that exact second that this would not be as easy as Negan had promised it would be. If you had been Negan in that moment, standing over Rick as he glared into your eyes, you wouldn’t have pushed into Rick’s territory. You got even—not really—by taking two of his people. It would be easier to show mercy and threaten to do worse next time and be prepared. You wouldn’t have tested luck like Negan has.

You didn’t tell Negan all this, not even half of it. Only expressed that you weren’t going to let your people get aimlessly murdered over a bunch of strays. Which is when Negan promised you that it wouldn’t ever get to that point. In return, you promised that you’d have his back.

And now that you’re standing on the walls of Alexandria, watching the starving flames devour homes of dozens of people, you realize the mistake you made trusting him. You kept mindlessly telling Negan yes, not taking a moment to hear what he had to say, the plans that he was making.

When he invited you to see the surrender of Alexandria, you genuinely believed that he had finally got it under control. All it took were a few groups of your people to get the job done. Maybe you had been overreacting after all, telling Negan that this would end up being fruitless.

What you failed to realize was that he was lying to you, and you were blindly accepting the answers you wanted to hear. You told Negan that you would withdraw at the first sign of trouble, so how did you end up here?

Alexandria is surprisingly silent, with the exception of the crackling fires. As far as you’ve been able to tell, there’s not a single living soul within the walls. After what they’ve done, you never thought that you’d be relieved that they’re somewhere safe, away from the wrath that Negan had wanted to release.

“This has gone too far.” You mutter, shaking your head. You won’t make your people do this, you won’t have them become like Negan’s men, “I’m leaving.”

Negan looks at you, “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I’m done.” You say louder, allowing him to process the statement before you turn around, “I want my people to round up and go home!”

Negan grabs your arm, “We are so fucking close to ending this. What are you doing?”

You pull away, “I told you no questions asked.”

“No, you didn’t. You promised me otherwise, held your goddamn pinky out and everything.”

“Don’t patronize me!” You shout, pointing your finger, “I told you within reason. Does this look reasonable to you?”

You back away from him, holding out your arms. The smoke bombs Carl had thrown around has created a grey haze. It makes the perfect cover, one that he was probably looking for while he went to find a place to hide. And with the smoke from the fires mixed in, it’s near impossible to see anyone.

“You don’t know what they’ve done.”

“I know exactly what they’ve done!” You yell back, moving towards him, “I was dragged into this after he killed people that you promised to protect!” You shove him back, “You promised safe travel anywhere! An escort if that meant it! You told me that there was a group that was killing yours and you didn’t uphold anything!

“They were innocent! I cared for each one of them! I know you have no regard for your fucking place, but they meant something where I’m from!”

“You lost a few, nothing compared to me—”

You swing before you can catch yourself, and only realize once you’re on top of him, arm drawn back for another. Negan uses your hesitation as a window to shove you off, reaching for his face. He’s drawing in deep breaths, pissed.

“Fuck you.” You spit, getting back to your feet, “You did this to yourself.”

You turn to walk away, wanting to get as far away from Negan as possible to prepare for an ambush of your own. He won’t let this go, as he’s told you before, the only reason why you’re not like the other communities is because you’re valuable, but easily replaceable.

A hand grabs your ankle, yanking you down. You catch yourself on the asphalt, turning over to see Negan, rage has turned his face a bright red. His jaw is clenching and unclenching, trying to compose himself? No, trying not to do something he’ll regret later. 

He moves faster than you anticipate him to, throwing his body on top of yours, hands aimed at your throat. You try to catch his hands, panic seizing your mind as you realize the mistake you’ve made, again.

“No—!” You manage to scream before they enclose your throat, thumbs pressing against your trachea.

You grab his hands, trying to pry them off. Your teeth are grit, eyes squeezed shut, feet slamming into the cement to try and gain momentum to throw him off. He’s not sitting on your hips. He knows that’s how you get thrown.

Tears appear in the corner of your eyes, headache pounding loudly. You dig your fingernails in, hoping pain will make him let go. You open your eyes, reaching higher, only he’s far away. He’s tall.

“They’ll forget you.” Negan breathes, a sick smile crossing his face. 

The black is eating away at the corners of your vision, stars beginning to swim. You can’t die like this. You dig your nails into his arms, your hands feel wet. Hopefully he’s bleeding, or maybe it’s just the static in your fingers from the circulation.

You struggle to stay awake, keeping your eyes open long enough to see the hallucinated figure behind Negan, something’s raised over their shoulder. As if they’re going to make the homerunning swing of the game.

And then they do.

A snap fills the air, pressure relieves from your throat, air filling your lungs. You suck in a breath only to cough it out afterwards. Before you have a chance to evaluate yourself, unsure if the snap was one of your ribs, a hand grabs yours. You’re being yanked to your feet.

It lasts for only a moment, you stumble and fall to the ground again. The world is spinning around you. You shouldn’t be alive. 

“Get up!” The person shouts, pulling you up again, “Now!”

You manage to pull yourself together long enough to let them wind you around Alexandria. In the smoke haze it’s hard to tell who just saved you from Negan, the risk they took to do it. Who would put themself directly into danger to save some asshole that was just fueling the fire?

It has to be one of your own.

They stop in the middle of a very small clearing. You can still see the silhouettes of the people around you, searching for any sign of the Alexandrians. Everyone’s on strict orders to kill on sight, with the exception of Rick and a few others. Negan wants the gratification of their death.

“Go down.” The person shoves you forward, making you realize that they’ve opened up the sewer. You fall to your knees before you tumble in, leaning over the darkness.

You think you make out faces, people you don’t recognize. You look up to finally see your savior, and realize that you don’t know her. She can’t be one of Negan’s, either. Why would she be hiding out in the sewer?

“I’m—” You begin to shake your head quickly, “I’m not who you think I am—”

“You’re (Y/n).” The girl shoves you closer to the sewer drain, “Do you want him to kill you?”

You don’t have a chance to respond, Negan’s already shouting orders, your name mixed into the nastier ones. You decide that you’ll take your chances, grabbing the ladder and descending into darkness. Whatever they want will be easier to give away than what Negan will do to you.

He was going to kill you.