hello vonnie
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
todays bird
No title available
ojovivo
The Stonewall Inn
gracie abrams
No title available
cherry valley forever
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane
Cosmic Funnies
h
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Origami Around
untitled
Kiana Khansmith
Game of Thrones Daily
🪼
𓃗
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from Spain
seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Mexico
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Bangladesh
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seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
@rebirthbunbun
What you need to know about me!!
————————-
I have no idea for when you will ever get a post from me. But I’ll try once a week at the minimum!
I write for many fandoms/ people!
Those being :
• Obey me shall we date
• Pokémon
• Fairy tail
• Overwatch
• MCYT
• JJK
• Haikyuu
And many more so just ask!!
————
I write smut(no minors when it’s smut time) anyone can follow or like/read(unless it’s smut ofc) not to much on angst but fluff is a BIG yes!!
unfortunately im not normal and have to insert myself into every piece of media i consume
Oh Toph the woman you are
summer nights with Sukuna are the worst.
you were in nothing but your underwear and a sports bra. every window in your house was wide open, every fan you could find was running, although there was no point seeing that all they did was push in more warm air.
you’ve been tossing and turning in bed for the past three hours. the darkness of the night meant absolutely nothing temperature wise, you were still scorching up. sweat clung to every inch of your body, as well as another, larger, heavier, and hotter body.
“ryo get OFF”
“mmm” his sleepy whines vibrated against your neck. how the hell he even managed to fall asleep in this heat, let alone the added body heat that was living between the two of you.
this heat was already irritating you, with sukunas added heat you could feel yourself going ballistic.
“Ryo i swear to god.” you tried pushing down on his shoulders, but it was no use. pushing and shoving did absolutely nothing, his grip on you was steady, even in his sleepy state. this was it. you were going to die of heatstroke, under your massive boulder of a boyfriend.
“m’stop pushin’ me woman.”
“ryomen. it is too fucking hot for your fatass to be on top of me like this.” silence rang out for a few moments, only to then be cut by sukunas snores.
there was no way you were ever gonna be able to sleep like this, so you had to find another way.
“Sukuna move yer ass I needa piss.” he groaned, but still rolled off of you. finally. it was like breathing for the first time.
you stood up from the bed and crept out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door, and plopping on the living room couch. it wasn’t much different from the heat from your bed, yet the slight temperature difference provided you a nice moment of relief.
until it was ruined approximately ten minutes later, by a big fat, scorching hot, log plopping on top of you.
“Sukuna.”
“fuckin’ liar.”
“Sukuna get off of me I’m so serious.” your eyes were near tears at this point, the heat only bringing out your frustrations even more.
“alright alright calm down woman, and go get dressed.” your big lug of a man sat up and leaned back into the couch.
“what? why?”
“I got us a hotel room.”
“Ryo-“
“yes there’s air conditioning. now hurry, cus I ain’t sleeping without holdin’ on to my woman.”
miss dolefully...
more yuri please 🥺👉👈
more explicit yuri? 🥺🥺
⋆⭒˚.⋆ jjk women in the bedroom ⋆⭒˚.⋆
minors dni | 18+ | gender neutral reader
Shoko
takes charge every. fucking. time.
Likes to degrade, but when she does throw out praise, it’s that much more special
the signal catcher 📡
KINKTOBER DAY 8: OVERSTIM
ALL × MC : They just can't get their hands off you! How can they fuck you for hours?!
WARNINGS: Grammatical errors, spelling errors, no proofreading, cursing, smut, gender neutral reader, controlling, breath control, overstimulation, deregatory names (bitch, slut, etc.), dubious consent, really rough, double penetration, double dick, use of tail, hate sex, Mentions of passing out, slapping, cum swallowing, blowjob, toxic behaviors.
LINKS: Masterlist, Kinktober 2526
TAGLIST: @angelishs @zarakem @cruzerforce4256 @nine-coliection-room @distructive-gamer @aria-again @xxshadyladyxx-blog @ellee3 @hello-kitty-number-1-fan @leviathans-fish @katsuwifey @angelbabyy111 @urfavsatellite @lovelytwixx @chirikoheina @apersonveryfanofomori @meimeiixi @bumble-beel @binamina @cherrwie @16-shieanne-16 @lady-ofthe-night @iwillmarrybeel @covenofdemons (If you want to be added, just tell me!)
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LUCIFER had you pinned under him for hours now, using his own body weight to keep you under as he pounds you relentlessly. He told you it's going to be rough for you if you decided to be bitch and fuck around to find out and guess what's happening now? He's only keeping his promise. So if you come crawling away as soon as he lifted himself for a second to adjust his position, what do you think he'll feel? Sad? Offended? No, he'll feel fucking pissed.
"What did I say about pulling shit like this?" He doesn't curse, he thinks he's above them so the mere emphasis he puts in a single crude word was enough to stop you before his cock is even halfway out of your sore hole. He scoffed, "Did I fuck you too much you think you have a choice now?" he smirked before pressing his whole body down on you again.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ open appreciation - SMAU⋆⭒˚.⋆
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv |part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix
context you're Nanami's annoying, younger neighbor turned best friend. you just met all of his other friends for the first time at a party, leaving them with a lasting impression.
warnings/disclaimers everyone is aged up 18+ / suggestive content / crude lang. / pictures are not mine / i do not use ai, but if you notice a pic i use repeatedly is ai, pls lmk / reverse harem
I'm Batty
Yandere!Batboys x Neglected!Reader
Are you always alone because you enjoy solitude? Or did you grow to enjoy solitude because you’re always alone?
Wayne Manor has been your home (prison? hotel?) for roughly twelve years now, with you having arrived at the ripe age of five. Gotham’s shining hope, billionaire Bruce Wayne, had taken you in, not out of kindness, but rather out of some obligation.
You’d spent the first five years of your life in an orphanage, even then less alone than you are now. But your life changed when Bruce Wayne walked through those metal gates. Even now the details are a little blurry, but from what you can gauge it seems like your adoption was some sort of publicity stunt. Or maybe he wanted a friend for Jason with Dick out of the house so often. Who knows.
That was the first one you actually met, Jason. He was around twelve at the time and the first real friend you’d ever had. He was full of life. The two of you would run around the manor, exploring new rooms and annoying Alfred. You built pillow forts spanning the manor’s massive hallways. And Jason never complained about how you clung to him, terrified of losing a tether to your new life.
“Jay!” You would call out, chasing him across the marble floors.
Even though he’d give chase, the older boy would always let you catch him, wrap your little arms around his waist and bury your face in his stomach. You were especially persistent when he began his new Robin duties, practically begging him not to slink off in the middle of the night with Bruce.
“Don’t worry, Birdie,” he would sooth, patting your head, “I’ll be back before you wake up. Promise!”
He kept that promise, for the most part, until one day he didn’t.
Dick Grayson has always been sort of an absentee, but that got even worse after Jason died. Before then, he would at least lie about wanting to spend time with you. Whenever he’d visit, the eighteen year-old would scoop you up in his arms and plant kisses all over your cheeks. Dick would always make promises to take you out for ice cream or to the park just to escape the dull gray of the manor for a little bit, but Nightwing always had other plans.
It wasn’t uncommon for the two boys and Bruce to do things just the three of them. That didn’t surprise you, of course, with them being vigilantes they had something in common that you didn’t. But you can’t lie and say it doesn’t sting to think back to your early years and remember dinners by yourself and the resounding emptiness of the manor.
This too got worse after Jason had died. He had been your advocate, if you could call anyone that. Without him there, nobody reminded Batman and Nightwing of the other Wayne. Dick grew more and more despondent, the light never quite meeting his eyes anymore. When he visited then, you were lucky if he would even ruffle your hair before disappearing into the bat cave. Bruce just retreated into himself. Throwing himself into work. Putting more distance between himself and you.
As for you, the news had felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. Jay, your Jay, wasn’t coming back. Now you were more alone than you had ever been, having known and lost a bond of that magnitude. Grieving was something that had been done completely internally, as nobody in the manor made themselves available for you to lean on. You wish you could say that was the darkest time of your life.
Then Tim showed up. You were around nine then, which put him about four years older than you. He was nice enough, you guess, when you actually saw the guy. He was your average recluse. Always glued to one screen or another. The lack of natural light made him almost translucent, save for the dark bags typically under his eyes. The two of you had some casual conversation about computers, but as soon as he realized you weren’t really into that (and were nine) he quickly lost interest.
What hurt most was how immediately the boy was accepted into their little crew. Bruce had spotted his usefulness a mile away, and clearly you hadn’t shown the same potential. How could you compare with a genius after all?
Either way, the lonely duo became a well-oiled trio once again, and you were resigned to your continued solitude. Vigilante work had never appealed to you, but a family sure did. It was unbelievably difficult to watch the three of them work closely, develop little inside jokes you weren’t a part of, retell stories you hadn’t been there for. At some point, you just stopped showing up to family gatherings, and everyone seemed better for it.
Somewhere around eleven is when you decide to get it together a little bit. They think you’re useless because you’re not a vigilante? Fine. Make yourself useful in other ways. Easy, right?
You’d approached Alfred early one morning, peering into the kitchen’s open door until you built up the courage to walk in. Your relationship with the butler had always been…alright? He certainly didn’t dote on you as he did the boys, but he didn’t flat out ignore you either. He made sure you were fed. Made sure you’d had lunch for school each morning before the driver picked you up. Because you weren’t a genius like Tim, you attended regular Gotham public school like everyone else. No fancy home school training for you.
“You may enter, Young Master,” he called out, not even looking up from the vegetables he was expertly cutting.
You should've known there was no sneaking up on Alfred. Getting out of your crouched position, you approached with caution, little feet making light noise on the tile.
“Do you require something?” He asked, poised, professionally.
You shook your head, swallowing down your nerves. “N-no, I just, uh, I wanted to help.”
This finally made him look up from his tasks, judgemental eyes sweeping over your disheveled appearance. “Help?”
You nod. “With…help with breakfast,” the words stumbled out of you.
He raised an eyebrow. “I have been preparing breakfast for the Wayne’s for decades. I’m afraid I don’t need any help.”
Your shoulders slumped, and you tried to wipe the disappointment off your face. “Al-alright. Sorry for bothering you.”
But when you turned on your heel to skulk back to your room, you heard him sigh and call out, “Wait, Young Master,” you freeze and slowly turn back, “I suppose there’s no harm in allowing you to observe…” There was no stopping the excited squeal that left you, and you ran to perch yourself atop one of the stools and watch the master at work.
By the time you’re almost twelve it’s as though you’re completely self-sufficient, some may even say to a degree children your age shouldn’t be. You pack your own lunches, help Alfred cook meals for the family, clean your own room, do everyone’s laundry, etc. etc. All of this gives you an immense sense of pride. Sure, you can’t knock a man out with your bare hands, but you have yet to see Tim Drake make a soufflé. This is enough to bring you joy, fulfillment, for a while. That is, until Jason comes back.
Nobody thinks you’re important enough to tell directly, but they’re also so used to just speaking around you that you find out anyway. Jason. Is. Alive. But…they also say he’s different. Aggressive. Violent. A killer. Everything you thought Batman and his batlings stood against. You don’t believe it until you see him for yourself.
You’d overheard Tim say that things with Jaso—Sorry, Red Hood, had made a little progress. But even so, that he would not be moving back into the manor. He and the bat were working on the same side(ish), which is different from working on the same team. Even if it may be for the best, you can’t help the wave of sadness that fills you at the news, knowing your friend won’t be coming home to you. Which is why you’re thrilled when he finally does.
The scones are about halfway done baking when you hear the kitchen door swing open. You’d gotten up early to get started on breakfast and clear your head a bit. Nothing made you more happy than solitude in the kitchen. The brute force with which the door hits the wall, however, shatters your tranquility and makes you duck under the countertop. Could there possibly be an intruder in Wayne manor?
The sound of heavy boots along the tile fills the room, and you hear the thud of weight landing on the counter above your head. You see the boots approach the oven, and the legs of a hulking man come into view as he leans down to look at the contents.
“Alfred,” the man grounds out, extending back to full height, “that you in here?” Does he know Alfred?
You try to regulate your breathing as the boots approach the countertop once again. “Drake?” He pulls out the stool nearest to you, the sound of the legs dragging against the floor almost drowning out your whimper. But not quite.
And then he leans down, and you come face to face with Jason for the first time in years. So it is true. “Birdie?” He asks, stunned.
You can only nod numbly and grab the calloused hand he reaches out to you, allowing him to pull you out from underneath.
As he takes you in, eyes traveling down and back up your flour-ridden pajamas, you observe him too. He definitely doesn’t look like the boy you knew. His arms are corded with muscles and decorated with scars. A jagged line tears through his face, pulling up at the corner of his lip and making him look like a comic book villain.
“Whattre you doin’ here?” He asks sternly.
You raise an eyebrow and answer dumbly, “I live here.”
Jason shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s what surprises me.” His large hands come down to lift you onto the counter, so that now the two of you look eye to eye.
“What’s so surprising about me still living here?” You ask defiantly, crossing your arms at your chest.
“The bat just never mentioned it. Figured he shipped you off somewhere else after I left,” he admits sheepishly. The bat. He says it with almost no familiarity.
“What do you mean left, Jay? They told me you died.” The tears are bubbling up in your eyes now. The shock of seeing him again, and so different, is too much for you to take. You don’t understand what’s happening.
His jaw tenses at your question, all the kindness that had shone in his eyes drops out, leaving pits of nothingness. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, and neither do they.”
His coldness practically slaps you across the face. You’re staring into the eyes of a killer. Of an adult that you don’t know anymore.
“I-I’m sorry…I only know what Mr. Wayne and Red Robin told me.”
The mention of Tim or maybe Bruce, or maybe both, seems only to piss him off further. A cold bark leaves him, “Of course you do,” he growls out, his voice steeped in patronizing mockery.
Unsure of what to do, and looking for evidence that this is not a dream, you reach your little hands out to cup his face, only for him to jerk back the second your fingertips graze his cheek.
“DON’T FUCKIN’ TOUCH ME!” He practically roars, making your body shut down in response to the fear coursing through your veins. He leans in close, hot breath on your face. “I’m not your Jason anymore, Birdie,” your nickname sounding like an insult for the first time, “the Joker killed him. And if you don’t stay out of my fucking sight, I’ll show you just how much I’ve changed.”
With that he grabs the bag he’d set down besides you, along with a handful of muffins you’d baked the other day. “And I’m taking this shit,” he calls out, exiting the kitchen without sparing you a second glance.
The oven timer dings as the door swings closed, but all you can do is collapse, hugging your knees to your chest as your shallow breaths turn into deep sobs. You drown them out with a dish towel, so as to not wake up any of the other bats.
Damian arrives about two years after that night. In some ways things are quite different, in others nothing has changed at all—for you at least. Red Hood has been reintegrating into the family, repairing his relationships with his brothers and with Bruce. You, however, have not spoken more than a handful of words to him since that night.
Him, Tim, Dick, and Bruce have a pretty good thing going, which is why it is so surprising when Damian Wayne enters the picture.
It’s Nightwing you see first. He’s covered in a bunch of small cuts and walks by you without any acknowledgement. You swear you hear him grumbling about “that little shit.”
Then Bruce enters, and while his stride is solid you can see the exhaustion weighing him down. And walking right behind him is a boy you’ve never seen before. He’s wearing some sort of uniform, and you can’t help but notice the red-speckled katana strapped to his back.
Bruce looks around at the nearly empty room before his eyes land on you. His brows lift a little bit in surprise, as if seeing you for the first time in a long while. “Ah, Y/N, come here please. I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
This is the first time he’s asked you for something that wasn’t to pass the salt in what feels like years. An awkward second passes of you not moving, literally frozen in shock.
When you finally step forward, you just stare at Bruce blankly, waiting for his next request. “Y/N,” he continues, “I’d like you to meet Damian, my son.” He turns to the boy, “Damian, this is Y/N.”
You awkwardly nod and hold your hand out for him to shake.
He just stares at your palm, looking rather disgusted. “Another false sibling I must dethrone for my rightful place, I presume?” He asks suspiciously.
“Uhhh…” you’re not really sure how to answer that.
“Well you’re clearly less intelligent than Drake,” he sneers, “but no matter.”
Quicker than you and even Bruce can react, his katana is drawn, and he slices a clean path straight through your outstretched palm.
You howl in pain as an arc of blood splatters on the ground beneath you. You instantly move to cradle your injured hand to your chest, and you look to Bruce in a desperate plea for help.
He’s grabbing Damian’s shoulders firmly and lecturing: “She’s not like us, Damian. You shouldn’t go swinging that sword at anyone, but especially someone who can’t defend themselves. Apologize.” It all sort of turns to mush in your pain-riddled mind.
They both turn back to face you. At this point you don’t want an apology. You just want to get away from this little demon.
Damian gives you another once over, taking in the fear painted clearly across your face and the fat tears rolling down your cheeks. He’s clearly not impressed with what he sees because he just scoffs and stalks off.
For a second Bruce looks torn between helping you with your wound and chasing after the boy, but he ultimately chooses Damian. In all fairness who knows what the little devil child could do if left to his own devices in the manor…
After he leaves, you slowly make your way back to the west side of the manor. As you walk down the hallway you call out “Dick?”, but he’s too busy licking his wounds after his own run-in with Damian. “Tim?” But there’s no chance he hears you through those fancy headphones of his. And finally, barely a whisper, “Jay? Please…”
Your efforts are for not, and you’re soon slipping into your room. After digging out the supplies you need to sterilize the wound and stitch it up, you take a moment to rest on your bed. You’ve never given yourself stitches, but you’re pretty sure it’s not gonna be a pleasant experience.
Using your good hand to grab one of your throw pillows, you move to press it tightly against your damp face. Then you scream into the void.
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
You’re seventeen now, just over halfway done with your senior year of high school. The past few years of home life have been more or less the same. The bat and his four boys have become a completely enclosed system. A unit in which you are totally unnecessary. Jason is over more often. Dick too. And Damian has been taken in as one of their own, but unfortunately that’s only mellowed him out a little bit. The manor is full of life once again, you’re just not part of it.
But that’s alright, because you’ve been building a life of your own outside of those walls. Kinda. Everyday you complete the same routine. First you make breakfast for yourself and the others. Alfred is in charge of their lunches and dinners, so you don’t have to worry about that. You take the bus to school now instead of a private driver because Damian complained about being seen getting out of the same vehicle as you. No problem though, because there’s a bus stop a short twenty minute walk from Wayne Manor—safe neighborhood, to be fair.
Then you do all the school things. Go to class. Eat lunch in the library. Go back to class. After school you’ve started picking up shifts at a local diner. You serve excellent burgers and shitty coffee late into the night before taking the bus back home.
It isn’t the most ideal situation but the tips are good, and your coworkers are cool. At the end of the day you work there for the money. You are saving up to go to college somewhere far, far away from here. In a few months you will be eighteen and a high school graduate—i.e. you will no longer be Bruce Wayne’s little burden.
You’re going to leave and never look back.
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
A/N: I’ve been reading a lot of these lately, so I wanted to try my hand at one. Do you guys want part two?
My Masterlist
𑣲. SO EXITIN — ᨳଓ satoru comfort fucking you after suguru just finished punishing you.
CONTENT WARNING rough sex. angry sex. bruising. hair pulling. marking. jealousy. poly rs. comfort sex. suguru is an asshole in here.
the fight was already beginning to spiral out of control when geto’s voice cut through the chaos, firm and unmistakably commanding as he gave you an order.
“stay back.”
you hesitated for only a moment, your eyes flickering toward him before narrowing in irritation.
of all things he could have told you, that was the one phrase guaranteed to piss you off.
you weren’t some helpless civilian who needed to be kept out of harm’s way, and you certainly didn’t need someone constantly deciding when you were capable of handling yourself.
you tightened your grip, scanning the battlefield as you weighed your options.
geto’s approach was safe enough, but it was slow, and you could already see the opening he hadn’t noticed yet.
then your gaze shifted toward satoru, and suddenly, the answer seemed obvious.
his method would be cleaner, quicker, and far less likely to leave either of you exposed.
so you ignored geto.
without another word, you moved exactly as satoru would have, slipping through the opening and striking from the angle you knew would work best.
it was reckless enough to make geto’s jaw tighten, but calculated enough that you knew you could pull it off.
“seriously?” geto called after you, clearly irritated.
you didn’t even bother looking back.
if he wanted you to stay behind while everyone else did the dangerous work, he was going to have to learn that you weren’t going to listen simply because he told you to.
and, much to geto’s irritation, it worked.
the threat was dealt with cleanly, the curse was exorcised before it could cause any serious damage, and despite the way you had completely disregarded his orders, no one walked away with anything worse than a few scratches.
the mission was a success, an undeniable one at that.
you lowered your weapon, breathing steadily as the tension finally began to leave your body, while geto stood a short distance away, staring at you with an expression that was becoming increasingly difficult to read.
because that was the part that made everything worse.
if you had gotten hurt, if your decision had gone wrong, if satoru’s method had nearly gotten someone killed, geto would have had every reason to lecture you.
he could have pointed out exactly where you went wrong and told you that this was precisely why you should have listened to him.
but you hadn’t, you had been right.
and geto hated that he couldn’t even argue with the outcome.
his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, his jaw tightening slightly while you gave him an almost innocent glance.
“what?” you asked, unable to resist the small edge of smugness in your voice, geto exhaled slowly through his nose. “nothing.”
but the way he said it made it painfully obvious that it was absolutely not nothing.
but what you didn’t know was that geto had no intention of letting this go, not here, not in the middle of a successful mission where he had no real argument to make against you.
he knew better than to start another fight while the three of you were still out in the field, so instead, he simply swallowed his irritation and kept quiet, already deciding that this conversation could wait until the three of you were home.
and you would soon find out that geto was much more patient when he was angry than you ever wanted him to be.
by the time the two of you finally made it home, you had almost convinced yourself that geto had simply decided to let the whole thing go.
satoru had been held back a little longer, leaving just the two of you to walk inside together, and for a brief moment, you thought the silence meant you were in the clear.
you were wrong.
the moment the door closed behind you, geto’s entire demeanor changed.
before you could even turn around properly, he stepped forward and pressed you back against the cold wooden door, his sudden movement catching you completely off guard.
you stared up at him, stunned by the intensity in his expression. “you really thought i was going to forget about what happened out there?”
one hand braced beside your head while the other claimed your jaw, fingers firm as they tipped your face upward.
“you ignored me. you decided satoru knew better. in front of everyone. on my order.” a short sharp exhale left him. “do you have any idea what that looked like?”
his thumb dug just under your chin, pressure steady enough to make your pulse jump.
he leaned closer until his mouth hovered at your ear, body locking you in place. “we share you. that was the deal. but sharing never meant you get to publicly side against me.”
his free hand dragged your jacket off one shoulder then the other before settling at your waist and hauling you forward so your hips met the hard line of him.
“you made me look secondary. you made me feel secondary. and i do not let that slide.”
geto’s mouth found the side of your throat, not soft kisses but deliberate claims, teeth scraping then biting down hard enough to pull a sharp sound from you.
the hand in your hair tightened, yanking your head back so he could mark lower, sucking a deep bruise just above your collarbone while his other hand worked your pants open with impatient precision.
the moment fabric gave way his fingers shoved between your legs, finding you already slick, and a low humorless sound left him against your skin.
“look at that,” he murmured, two fingers slamming into you without warning, curling deep and rough. “already soaked. was it the fight that did it or the knowledge of exactly how this would end once we got home?”
he worked the fingers in hard ruthless strokes, knuckles pressing, thumb circling your clit with mean pressure just shy of enough to tip you over. “you disobeyed me. you chose him. and now you take what i give until i decide you’ve remembered whose order you ignored.”
he pulled free with a wet sound, spun you with a bruising grip on your hip, and shoved you chest first into the door hard enough that the wood rattled.
the sound of his own clothes opening cut through the quiet, a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock dragged once through your folds, coating himself, before he slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust that knocked the air from your lungs and forced a broken cry out of you.
one hand braced beside your head again, the other locked on your hip hard enough to leave marks as he set a relentless punishing pace, every snap of his hips driving you forward against the door with wet filthy sounds.
“you don’t get to go soft on me now.” he growled against the back of your neck, teeth scraping the skin there before biting down again.
“you wanted to decide whose judgment mattered out there, fine. in here you take mine. every. fucking. inch.” his rhythm stayed deep and unforgiving, hips slamming hard enough that the door creaked with each thrust, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the entryway.
he reached up, fisted your hair again and pulled your head back so your spine arched, changing the angle so he could drive even deeper, cock dragging over that spot inside you with every rough stroke.
“next time the thought of ignoring me in front of him crosses your mind i want you to remember exactly how it feels when i remind you who you belong to just as much as you belong to him.”
his free hand slid around your hip, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight mean circles timed to the brutal pace of his thrusts until your legs started to shake and your breath came in short broken gasps.
he didn’t slow. if anything he fucked into you harder, using his grip on your hair to keep you arched and open for him, the wet sound of your cunt taking him over and over filling every pause between his words.
“come on my cock while i’m still angry with you.” he ordered, voice low and absolute, fingers working your clit faster.
“show me you understand. soak me while i’m still pissed. then maybe, maybe i’ll consider forgiving the fact that you made me watch you choose him.” he slammed in especially deep on the last word, grinding against you, refusing to ease up even as your walls started to flutter around him.
and with that he hauled you up as if you weighed nothing, carrying you straight to the bedroom while your body still trembled around the memory of him.
whatever unfolded behind that closed door stretched across hours, rough, relentless, he claimed you that it left marks and exhaustion tangled together, until the only sound left was your slowed breathing against the sheets.
hours later the front door opened. satoru stepped in, hair slightly mussed, a lazy smile already on his face as he spotted geto freshly showered and stretched out on the couch watching whatever flickered across the screen.
“hey,” he called, his eyes swept the room once, twice, then narrowed when they found no trace of you. “where’s our wife?”
geto didn’t look away from the television. “asleep.”
satoru’s eyebrow arched, he crossed the space slowly, dropping onto the arm of the couch. “she usually doesn’t pass out at this hour. what did you do to her?”
geto’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. “reminded her whose orders matter when it counts.” he finally glanced over. “she’s fine. worn out. leave her.”
satoru hummed, unconvinced, already pushing off the couch. “yeah, no. i’m gonna check.” he headed down the hall without waiting for permission.
as he slipped inside the room met him with darkness and a lingering chill, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he finally found you buried under the blanket, only the top of your hair visible.
a soft apologetic pout pulled at his mouth as he crossed the space and sank down beside you with careful weight so the mattress barely dipped.
“aww, poor girl..” he murmured, voice barely above a breath, he reached for the edge of the covers intending to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
but the fabric peeled back to reveal a canvas of fresh bruises and dark hickeys blooming across your throat, collarbone, and the curve of one shoulder.
his hand froze mid air, brows drawing together as a low breath left him.
“that crazy bastard.” he muttered under his breath, the marks were deeper than usual, the kind of roughness that only surfaced when geto’s temper ran hot, most nights the three of you stayed far gentler with each other.
the shift in the mattress and the quiet sound of his voice pulled you from sleep.
your eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light, and the second they focused on him a soft smile curved his mouth.
“hey, beautiful.” you didn’t hesitate, the moment recognition settled you pushed up and all but climbed into his arms.
he caught you easily, gathering you against his chest in one smooth motion, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other settled warm and steady across the bare skin of your back, careful of every fresh bruise.
“are you okay?” he asked, voice low and close to your ear as his palm stroked slow circles over the unmarked parts of your back.
you only furrowed your brows against his shoulder, voice still rough from sleep and everything that came before.
“what took you so long?” a quiet huff of amusement left him, though the concern never fully left his eyes.
he shifted just enough to lean back against the headboard, pulling you fully into his lap so your bare legs draped over his thighs and your cheek rested against the warm solid plane of his chest.
“got held up with the higher-ups,” he murmured, fingers threading gently through your hair.
“by the time i got free and made it home, suguru was already on the couch looking far too pleased with himself.”
his thumb brushed the edge of a dark bruise on your throat, feather light. “i’ll deal with him later. right now i only care about you.”
he felt it then, the warm slickness seeping through the fabric of his jeans where your bare pussy rested against his thigh.
his gaze dropped, taking in the evidence, and a slow breath left him, you followed his eyes and immediately pouted, voice barely a whisper.
“m..sorry.”
a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. he tipped your chin up with two fingers and kissed you, he drew back his forehead rested against yours.
“don’t apologize for that,” he murmured against your mouth. “he didn’t even clean you up, huh?” satoru’s voice stayed soft “just finished and left you like this?”
he glanced down at you, waiting. you shook your head slowly.
“well… he went all in and then kissed me on the forehead after.” you admitted.
a quiet hum left him, one hand slid down your spine in a slow, soothing path while the other stayed cupped at the back of your neck. “of course he did.”
the words carried no real heat, only a knowing sort of resignation. “marks you within an inch of your life, fucks you until you can’t think, then leaves a gentle little kiss like that makes it all balanced.”
he shifted beneath you, adjusting so your slick heat pressed more firmly against the growing hardness trapped in his jeans.
“but you know…i really missed you..” you breathed out, pressing soft kisses along the sharp line of his jaw.
a low chuckle vibrated against your lips, “you missed me because he punished you?”
you shook your head quickly, “n..no! i really did miss you.”
satoru’s expression softened at the insistence. he caught your face between both hands, thumbs stroking over your cheeks as he leaned in and kissed you properly.
“i know, baby. i missed you too.” one hand slid down between your bodies, palm gliding over the bare skin of your stomach before settling between your thighs, fingers tracing lazily through the slick mess geto had left behind. “let me show you how much.”
he kept you cradled in his lap, legs draped over his, and simply explored with slow deliberate touches, two fingers gliding up and down your folds, gathering the wetness, spreading it, circling your clit with the lightest pressure that made your hips twitch.
every time you tried to push into his hand he eased off just enough to keep you wanting, a soft teasing smile playing at his mouth.
“so sensitive already,” he murmured against your temple, voice warm and full of quiet praise.
“look at you, still dripping from him yet opening up so sweetly for me, my good girl. always so responsive… even after he was rough with you.”
his fingers slipped inside with no resistance, curling gently, stroking that soft spot with lazy precision while his thumb kept up the feather light circles. “feel how easily you take me? you’re doing so well already.”
he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the fading edge of a bruise on your throat, each press of his lips soft and lingering as if he could rewrite every mark with tenderness.
“i hate seeing you hurt like this,” he admitted between kisses, “but fuck if you don’t look beautiful all marked up and still so needy for more. my perfect girl… taking everything he gave you.”
slowly he shifted, laying you back against the pillows with careful hands, stripping his own shirt and jeans without ever fully leaving your space.
when he settled between your thighs he didn’t thrust in right away.
instead he rubbed the thick head of his cock through your soaked folds, coating himself, teasing your entrance with shallow presses that never quite gave you what you wanted.
every time your hips lifted he pulled back just enough, chuckling softly at the frustrated little sound you made.
“patience, beautiful,” he soothed, leaning down to kiss you deep and slow while one hand stroked your side, your breast, the curve of your waist like he was memorizing you all over again.
he nuzzled your jaw, voice dropping into that low affectionate tease. “you’re so wet for me already, my sweet girl. always so eager to be filled, aren’t you?”
when he finally sank into you it was inch by careful inch, giving you time to feel every stretch, every pulse of him.
a long low groan left his chest once he bottomed out, forehead resting against yours. “there we go… fuck, you feel perfect.” he stayed still for a moment, just breathing with you, hands roaming gently over every unmarked patch of skin he could find, praising you between soft kisses.
“my good girl. my beautiful girl… letting me take care of you.”
only then did he begin to move slow, deep rolls of his hips that never turned rough, each thrust full, angled to drag against the places that made your breath catch.
one hand stayed laced with yours against the pillow while the other slipped between you again, rubbing gentle steady circles over your clit in time with his rhythm.
“my perfect wife. let me hear you, baby. let me know how good it feels when i’m gentle with you.”
Quixotic - four
what happens when your assigned to shadow your industry idol and ex-boyfriend's current lover?
Fashion Designer ! Suguru Geto x Intern / Student ! Reader x Ex-Boyfriend ! Model ! Satoru Gojo
word count: 1.9K
header border thing by @/saradika-graphics
art by: @/lacampanule on twt
PREVIOUS: THREE
So come here and spill your secrets
(Diavolo X Fem Reader)
There's a new intern at the Corizo office. The CEO's a fiend.
But you must be temptation sent to test his resolve, because he is faltering. He lowers the temperature of the air conditioner, inhales and leans back in his chair as your gaze is still occupied by the screen.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale—
A stuttering exhale.
His eyes tear open, black pupils almost narrowed into slits. Golden swallows the rest.
The scent hits him like a train. Heavy and thick, seeping into his bones and demanding that he undo the leash of restraint. Fucking hell, you're so wet. And that too while sitting next to him. Looking so focused and diligent, while your thighs are undoubtedly pressed together, pussy all wet and clenching around nothing too.
Poor thing.
The clock still ticks, air con still hums and the office is soundproof.
And Diavolo is but a fiend.
CW: DubCon/Noncon, Fingerfucking, Blowjobs, Straight up Smut, DILF DILF DILF, Daddy kink??, Humiliation and Degradation, MC's kinda into it.
Word Count: 6074
Days blur into one.
Years, even faster, given that being alive for so long is a bit boring now. The engine purrs as Barbatos drives, and Diavolo's eyes hurt from the sun. That's why there are sunglasses hand on him at all times in this realm; lights salvation for someone who never wanted it. Keeping up appearances is required, he was told, and to mask his boredom lest other notice. He checks the time on his Cartier; then looks up just to see them arrive right on time to the Hotel.
"What role am I playing again?" He asks, watches his butler sigh and smiles.
Curious stares from passerby come as the man steps out of the vehicle, well above six feet and a hulking figure to match. A camera clicks, and he twitches, fangs almost bared before he replaces it with a smile and the sunglasses kept handy. He's been told his gaze is dissecting.
One, two, three: pose for the paparazzi and the news; shake some hands and get to the office. Barbatos remains as stubborn as ever, posture rigid as a rod as he opens the door for his Master. Some questions ring out in the air; the door is closed. Sealed. And then the motions are familiar. Make your way to the elevator. Button pressed for the fifty-sixth floor and wine ready. Finalise a deal and leave because publicity is essential in a realm which does not know your lineage and instead your brand.
69ing with fem!enjin ꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
cw: mdni, oral sex, chubby!reader, art by marik_draw
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," you mumble, playing with your nails and looking down because the image of your friend's naked body was too much for you to handle.
"Girl, I'm naked with my pussy facing you, do you think I don't want to do this?" She leans in his forearms, tits bouncing with every of her movements. You look away immediately. "Stop being shy and sit your ass on my face, c'mon."
You click your tongue, rolling your eyes a little as you finally get on the bed. "You're so vulgar, Enjin."
"Mhm," she says as her hands come up to grab a handful of your hips before unclasping your bra and letting your tits free. "Well, hello."
„Hello, is this y/n?“
spiderman!fem reader x fan/obsessive! gojo satoru
based on this !
„i‘m your biggest fan, i‘ll follow you until you love me ♡ „
this is about Enjin like I need to clarify
Imagine being just a solo giver not really caring where you are or what you do but you love spending your time defeating trash beasts.
Your jinki is a very cutsy umbrella (ey EY EY!) and you were just slashing away having the time of your life in a no mans land until you hear behind you. "Well damn baby"
Making you turn around to see a man on top of a trash pile with a fullface gasmask on and an umbrella over his head. "Enjoying the view baby cakes?!" You yell back at him, unknowingly making him smirk underneath his mask
....
"and that's how I met (Y/N) for the first time!" Enjin said has he leand back in the sofa while all the kids sat around him listining. Guitas head pearked up with a big smile on her face "And thats when you fell in love!!??"
The blond man threw his hand around in the air as if to make this seem like any other story "Oh yeah- she had it all in her eyes, didnt even see my face and was already hooked on yours truly!"
That comment made all the kids confused as they looked at eachother, Remlin stopped drawing, Rudo looked up from his gloves and Guita & Dear were tilting their heads in confusion. Then Remlin spoke up "thats not how Gob told me it happened!"
"He did what..?"
"Yeah he said you were like suuuuuppper whipped and couldnt talk to her without making yourself look like a fool-"
"HEY no hold on..!
"And that she rejected you like a bazillion times before she finally caved!"
Then Rudo said "Yeah seems more likely."
"OKEY NO- You guys weren't there! So how would you know, HUH?"
..
"But I was" You round the corner into the common room "and yes he was pathetic and I did reject him explicitly 8 times and a bunch of minor times when he was just flirting with me" A bunch of high pitched giggles followed from everyone in the room, except for one person.
"..baaaabbbee.." He sighed.
"Still love you tho!" You yell as you walk out.
"No you DONT!"
Grace doodle
