You didn’t think Simon kept the silly things you gave him.
The man had his fixations: bones, bugs, dirt sometimes- he kept jars of it in his room, hidden under the bed for reasons he would not disclose. Wild life seemed to calm the man’s incessant anxiety, oddly enough. The rot, the violence and beauty intertwined in the forest. Humans tried to sanitize their existence, pretend they didn’t murder and fuck and shit themselves. The forest did no such thing- was upfront about its violence, its depravity.
Simon liked stuff like that, only ever had stuff like that.
So you never thought he’d actually keep the little skunk stuffie you’d gotten him. Just a 99 cent little beanie baby, black and white just like all his masks and clothes. You’d given it to him after a small shopping spree to the local thrift store, laughed about how he stunk just like it when you handed him the toy. It barely sat in his massive palm, the man staring down at it before stuffing it into his pocket with a grumble of something you couldn’t understand.
You couldn’t quite believe your eyes four months later, when you popped into his quarters in the night. Only there to grab some of his reports you’d forgotten, just to see the man actually sleeping for once- little skunk stuffie gripped tightly in his fist, the fabric of its tiny head pressed up against his face as he slept.
It was.. sweet. He still had that balaclava on, safe and tucked away in his own world. You debated taking a picture, before glancing at the shot gun next to his bed and deciding against it.
You hug Ghost extra tight the next day though, burrowing into his chest to hide your giddiness as he clutched onto your back. Massive hands gripping your shirt tightly, like he never wanted to let go- but couldn’t bring himself to cling to your actual body itself. Huffing your hair, rubbing his masked face against the top of your head like a weird cat.
Dreaming of a Yandere cult leader x darling w mental health issues....
He lives to help you, and you may not see it now but he was called to deliver his gods lost angel, and he does what his god says.
He keeps you in a separate room inside the church, next to his own bedroom so that he's always there to assist you, no one else is allowed to see you or go near you. Only the father can see your angelic features and guide you back to god.
You are....confused, and for the most part alone, you haven't had this much quiet in forever, laying in a comfortable grand bed and seeing the same man everyday, in which he tells you "it's okay to rest, my angel, you need your strength to return to god." Always with such a sweet tone, both putting you on edge and in comfort. You don't know how to feel, you never really did even before being brought here, but he's telling you that it's okay to sleep, it's okay to take your time, waiting on your terms.
You don't have access to your prescriptions anymore, the mysterious man who has not once uttered his own name in your presence, claims they are keeping you from truly healing. You always stare when he talks, he hesitates to even bring his eyes to your feet, acting like he's scared of looking at your face. You don't like that very much.
He provides only the best clothes to you, the comfiest and loose clothes for you, yet you never receive any form of shoes, not even slippers. You don't need to leave the room, he said.
You left the room.
It was curiosity, who wouldn't leave when they were specifically told not to, when you haven't seen or heard a single soul near your room. You're lonely, in some way. Wandering the halls of what is clearly a church, you half search for an exit, or someone who can help you. Bare feet pattered against the carpet on the floor, a woman coming from the opposite end of the hall, she stopped and stared at you, a confused looked present on her face.
You both stared at each other for a solid minute before she darted away, running back the way she came and leaving you confused and bewildered at what happened, you didn't even get to ask for help. It's not long before he finds you, running up and hesitating before holding your shoulders gently, a small squeeze as he looked down at you panicked.
Gently, he checked for any harm, noticing your bare feet, a frown graces his smooth skin. "My angel, you cannot be out here, it is much too dangerous still." His grip held firm as you awkwardly shuffled, not saying a word back as he guides you to your room.
Making sure your feet are okay once you're sat on the plush bed, he sighs and hesitantly nuzzles your feet, looking up from where he is kneeled in front of you. By his god you are beautiful, truly a lost angel his god has bestowed for him to guide and heal, hearts appearing in his eyes as he looks you in the face clearly for the first time you can remember.
you would know. you're the one who has to experience it firsthand, after all. of course—you love hiccup dearly, the man is simply a lovesick fool at your hands. seemingly always has been.
though . . . you'd argue he loves you a little too much.
his fixation on you should be disturbing. it really should; but it isn't, and at some point, you grew to enjoy it. an absolute sweetheart in public, yet he's the same one stealing your panties. the same one who eats you out with hearts in his eyes, who whimpers when you pull at his hair just right, who overstimulates himself just to please you. and because his pull out game is shit.
and gods, you wouldn't trade the poor man for anything. probably because he'd burn down and ruin countless lands trying to get to you, but that's beside the point.
✦Happy pride month guys! I hope everyone having fun and everything ✨💕
Cater Diamond
Cater had come looking for you after class, phone in hand as usual, ready to drag you into some new magicam trend. He didn’t think twice before opening the door to the empty classroom you were using to change, no knock, because why would he?
You both froze.
You were halfway through pulling on your shirt, top surgery scars clearly visible across your chest. Panic hit you immediately. “ WAIT! Cater! Let me explain it! I-I can explain!” you started, voice shaky.
Cater raised an eyebrow, head tilting slightly. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what those scars were. But he also saw how freaked out you looked, so he just gave you his usual bright, easy smile and raised both hands.
“No need to explain anything.” He keeping his tone light and casual. “Your secret’s safe with me. I’d never out you or spill something personal like that. Or do something that makes you uncomfortable.”
You asked him quietly not to tell the others.
Cater shook his head, looking almost offended at the idea. “As if! Your business is your business. I respect that.” Before he slipped back out the door, he paused and grinned. “Oh, and next time? Just change with us in the boys room. You’re one of the guys too, right? Nothing weird about it at all.”
He left but the gentle understanding in his eyes stayed with you.
Epel Felmier
You and Epel were in the changing room after gym class. You tugged your shirt off without thinking much of it, until you caught Epel’s wide eyed stare.
“Whoa… those scars look sick as hell!” he blurted out, eyes sparkling with pure admiration. “Where’d you get them? Was it some crazy fight? Did you take on a whole gang? Or maybe you wrestled with a wild animal?!”
You snorted, amused by the wild scenarios he was inventing. “Not exactly.” you said, pulling your gym shirt off. “They’re top surgery scars.”
Epel blinked once… twice… then the light finally sparkled. He rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish.
“Oh... Got it!” He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Still looks cool as hell. Makes you look tough. Like you’ve been through something and came out stronger.” He punched your shoulder lightly. “You’re manly as fuck, dude!”
The casual acceptance from someone who cared so much about masculinity made your chest feel lighter.
Deuce Spade
It was stupidly hot outside. Ace and Deuce had dragged you into helping paint the rose again. Sweat was pouring down your back, and the heavy uniform made it unbearable.
“Fuck it!” you muttered, tugging your shirt off and tossing it aside so you could keep working in just your pants.
Deuce’s eyes immediately locked onto your chest, specifically the top surgery scars. He stared, clearly surprised.
Your eyebrow went up. “Hey. Eyes up here dude.”
He startled so hard he nearly dropped his paintbrush. “S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to stare! I just… where did you get those scars? Are you okay?!”
You couldn’t resist. With a straight face you launched into the most ridiculous story you could think of. “Oh, some guy tried to steal my organs in a back alley. Luckily the police showed up right before he could finish the job.”
Deuce’s eyes went huge. He looked genuinely horrified and impressed at the same time. “That’s awful! Are you serious?!”
Ace, who had been listening nearby, smacked Deuce on the back of the head. “You idiot, don’t believe a word he says. He’s just trans. Those are top surgery scars. He’s fucking with you.”
Deuce’s face went bright red. He looked between you and Ace, mortified. “You…that wasn’t funny!” he grumbled, turning back to the roses with embarrassed energy. Ace just laughed.
Floyd Leech
The public pool was packed, but the water felt amazing in this summer heat. Floyd was happily swimming around like a chaotic eel while you floated peacefully in your trunks and a swim shirt.
Floyd eventually swam over, grinning sharply, and immediately tugged at the hem of your shirt. “Shrimpy~ Why are you wearing this in the pool? It’s weird. Take it off, it looks uncomfortable.”
You tried to brush it off smacking his hand. “Lots of people wear swim shirts. It’s fine.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically. “That’s dumb. It’s probably all heavy and sticky. Why do you wanna wear it so bad?”
You hesitated, then said quietly, “My top surgery scars are pretty noticeable. I don’t want people giving me weird looks.”
Floyd stared at you for a second, then snorted. “You shouldn’t give a flying fuck about what random people think. Look around! There’s a guy over there in neon green speedos that are traumatizing everyone. Your scars aren’t even close to the weirdest thing here.” His grin turned dangerous. “And if anyone says something nasty? I’ll just squeeze them. Or drown them. Whichever’s more fun.”
His casual protectiveness made you laugh. “God… okay okay. Just don’t get us kicked out.” After a moment, you pulled the swim shirt off.
The second the scars were visible in the sunlight, Floyd didn’t even blink. He just grinned wider. “See? You look better without it anyway~” He splashed you playfully. “Now c’mon, enough talk, let’s swim.”
For the rest of the day you floated and swam without worrying about your chest. Floyd’s complete indifference mixed with his willingness to drown haters made you feel surprisingly free.
My friend helped me who just had top surgery recently. Did you guys know that they can also change your nipple shape if you want?! HOW COOL IS THAT?!? You can get heart shaped nipples!!!
So,this is for @male-thoughts. A bit of porn to make everyone's day better lol.
Sleepy mornings
Clark Kent x male! Reader
Tw: smut,jerking off,mean reader,kinda sub Clark
Now,being Superman's boyfriend is incredible. That’s like,obvious. You love him to the moon and back and he literally would give you the moon if you as much as asked. He was kind,respectful,funny,and an idiot in the most endearing way possible. He cared for people and genuinely tried to do good things. You loved him for that.
But God was he always horny.
It had been an horrendous week. The type of week that makes you want to throw everyone else out the window. Especially when that everyone else is your boyfriend waking you up by humping you in his sleep at 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning. He was hard as a rock,because of course he was,and now you couldn’t fall back asleep because of all the moving.
Now,you could just wake him up and tell him what he’s doing. It would definitely put a stop to it,he would never do anything without your explicit and enthusiatic consent. He might be a bit embarassed,but nothing more than that.
That doesn’t sound very fun,does it? And you’re already awake anyway,why not just helping him?
You huff under your breath and close your eyes back,blindly reaching for his cock. This of course wakes him up,or maybe it was the way your heartbeat probably sped up a bit. You knew he always listened to your heartbeat,a habit more than a choice. He had told you so a few months ago. You don’t wait for him to fully wake up before grabbing his cock in one of your hand,earning a surprised,but not displeased,whine from him. “Darling?” He murmurs grogilly,but you don’t even bother opening your eyes,just giving his dick a clumsy stroke. He moans again,flustered,and unconciously fucks up into your hand. “You woke me up rubbing your damn hard-on on my thigh.” You answer his unasked question,doing your best to glare at him with your eyes still closed. He attempts to apologize but you squeeze him as hard as you can and instead he relases a half moan,half scream kind of sound.
“Shhh. I’m trying to rest here. You’re Superman,you can take some rough play.” You whisper harsly,annoyed. He nods,an apologetic look in his eyes,and moves his hand to cover his mouth to stop a sound as your hand moves again. “And no hands.” You add,shifting to lay down more comfortably. He nods,biting his lips to keep silent. This goes on for a few slow,agonizing minutes,you only occasionally squeezing or stroking his cock,and him trying not to whine or beg you to go faster.
You start to get tired of the game pretty soon and begin to go quicker,your thumb brushing against his tip to gather the precum there and smear it over his length,making the movements easier. Running a finger on the vein running on the underside of his dick,your nails barely scratching it,your eyes still closed all troughout. You fell it pulsating in your hand and the sheets move slightly as he grips them for dear life. You wait until he’s right on the edge,every muscle in his body tensing,his hips bucking up into your hand. You stop for a moment,just to tease him,and he actually cries out. You tsk at him,one eye opening slightly to better glare,and as his mouth open to apologize,or maybe beg,your finger sneaks its way to the tip,playing with it before pressing a fingernail down right over the slit until you know it start to hurt. He was always way more sensitive on his dick,especially when hard. You think it might be related to alien biology or something. Never really cared to ask.
He whines loudly and his hips squirm,unsure whetever to move away from the pain or closer to feel more pleasure. A few more strokes and he’s gone,bucking up in your hand as thick white ropes of cum stain his stomach,the sheets and your wrist. You stroke him trought it and a bit after,just to overstimulate him a bit. You wipe your hand down on his thigh and turn around,finally going back to sleep. At least this time Clark seems way too out of it to wake you up.
I do not believe any warnings apply in this chapter but just in case:
Read at your own risk.
Yandere: one who thinks their obsession is love
Next (Part 2) Part 3
Part 1
It's been three days since you've woken up in this place.
Three days since you've taken over the body of someone who looks exactly like you.
Three days of gathering information and no one even seems to notice a difference.
You are honest to God's so pissed. With them- those who dare call 'you' family.
When you first woke up you were confused- confused as hell. What was this room? Who were these people? (Something you figured out real quick as a DC lover) And why were you here? Though being an avid reader you had ideas as to why you were here but you didn't like them. The main one: you died. And so did they- the body you are currently inhabiting.
You don't remember what happened before you woke up here so you put that to the back of your mind and just hoped it was a situation where your bodies switched souls. Not as common but still happened in books you read.
The main reason you crossed out being pranked on your list was because the city you were in was not where you previously were.
And you also saw someone who you presumed to be Signal take down some people and turn invisible. Fully invisible. That night you decided you would observe- at first subtle, but very quickly becoming direct observation once you figured out more about the person whose body you're borrowing.
And you decided you hated the world you happened to be plopped into.
No one paid any attention to you. At all. Unless you made them. And even then- it wasn't their full attention.
Tonight though, during the scheduled family dinner, you would make them all pay attention.
At dinner no one said anything. At least not to you. Not even with you staring at all of them or your barely eaten plate.
Abruptly standing, you look each of them in their eyes, "I have something important to say."
"I'm sure it can wait till after dinner." Bruce says going back to eating his food.
"You've done nothing notable with your life. I doubt it's of any importance."
Seething, you take a deep breath- giving an incredulous laugh when you breath out- you say what's on your mind. "Is everyone in this family so stupid?"
Jason pulls you back down to your seat, "Not now kid."
Staring at him, you sharply stand up again. An audible, crisp slap is heard by everyone in the room. Jason's hand out to pull you down once again, limp in the air, is frozen in time as he looks at you bewildered.
To them, you've never hit anyone before, not even playfully. And now you did so with such ease and quickness?
Using everyone's shock in your favor, you get up on the table. "None. None of you have noticed anything. Do you know how ridiculous that is? They could have been dead. This whole entire time. And not a single one of you would have noticed."
"What are you talking about- who are you talking about?" Dick asked, unsure how to exactly go about your outburst.
With a frown and crotchety air about you, you gesture to yourself, "Who am I?"
Putting his fork down Bruce folds his hands, now analyzing you, "Who are you?"
You feel yourself start to heat up from anxiousness. What name do you tell them? By now you already know you've taken two seconds too long to answer the question without suspicion but it has been the only moment of slight uncertainty you've had in front of them. With confidence that you didn't feel anymore, you answer with your name- your chosen name.
Bruce, now more alert, asks a question, "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Could you possibly blame me if I was out of sorts? If I thought it was a bad dream I'd eventually wake up from? Besides, why couldn't you figure it out without me telling you? Your family gone, replaced in their own body. One would think their family would notice something."
Everyone is silent. You're right. They now know very well that they might have never known, that they never knew what their own family member was like.
'Tt'
Feeling your frustration build up again you say, "Get me home. If anyone has the resources it's you." Tone clipped, in no mood to speak further with any of them as you jump off the table and walk to your current room.
At the dinner table no one moved. Alfred came in, having heard the entire thing. Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't see him on your way out, but for now, it was time for a family meeting.
You paced around the room, walls and decorations foreign, nothing that made it feel homey or lived in. Nothing to make it feel like it was the one safe place you had.
Your mind was racing. With the frustration still there you also realized you could have royally messed that up. Possibly made things bad for you. This was not looking good for you.
You did not like them. They know that now. You're not their family. They know that now as well. You need a plan. To get you back. Without anyone getting in your way and most importantly- without questioning you.
...Superman.
Of course. He's one of the most kindest heroes you know of. He would not hesitate to help you. No questions asked.
You sneak out the window knowing you're about to trip so many alarms but it's a risk you're willing to take, not anything with you as none of it was really yours anyways. You'll find a way to manage if necessary.
Once you're far enough from the manor and hopefully any other humans you yell for Superman.
For help.
A minute later he was there in front of you.
"Are you ok? ...Aren't you Bruce's ki-"
"No! Just- Look. I'm not from here and I just really want to go back home. To my world."
Superman nods, understanding dawning his face. With an outstretched hand he says, "All right. The league will be able to help you."
You take his hand, startled at how smoothly flying with him was. It was peaceful.
Needed.
Sparking that wonder you had when you first realized where you were.
Now that you're away from the manor- from them, maybe you could enjoy what you hoped would be short time here.
To be quite honest I'm having a bit of a tumultuous time right now. This is shorter than I hoped but I just needed to get something out there before I put this off even more.
I will accept helpful critique and spell/grammar checks. I might make different versions of this for f, gn, and m readers specifically if requested. There's a chance they might end up way different though. This version will be my main focus though.
Sorry im advance I'm not sure how you like requests structured!!!
But would you be open to something with centaurs? Like the readers first time taking such a huge cock and their lover starting slow, maybe theres mutual masturbation or oral (super up to you, everything you write is fantastic) , but eventually the centaurs urge to breed takes over and it becomes rough but in a way the reader loves. Huge bonus points if it includes overstimulation, belly bulging, or squirting. Also bonus points for trans masc reader with tdick!!!!
He was scared of hurting you. Since the day you started dating, he’d been scared of it. The size difference was a big thing between the two of you, and you could understand his worry. But at the same time… You wanted him to fuck you raw more than you wanted him to be careful. You liked it a bit rough, okay? And he was a big centaur, able to fuck you so hard you would see stars. Of course you wanted him to destroy your hole.
The thought of getting fucked hard reminds you of that first time you got him to fuck you, how scared he was, and how fucking full you felt from the start.
“Come on, the tip is already in,” he says it trying to be encouraging, but it made your whole body freeze. He felt like he was spitting you in two, like he was about to create a fucking tunnel from the outside to your insides. You were about to be ripped in two.
“Just the tip?” You screeched, a bit of panic filtering through your words when you looked down and saw how much of him is still out of your body.
“Ye- Yes,” he sounded less sure about it right at that moment. You took a deep breath, and the sensation of being split in two receded, letting only pleasure in its way. “You can do it, babe. I know you can. Just a little bit more.” You cursed, arching your back and telling him to go a bit deeper…
At the end, you were able to fit him fully inside of you. Not only that, but it became what you most liked about your sexcapades. Having him fill you to the brim made you feel all kinds of powerful. But he was always so… careful. It was like that first time was burned in his brain and he didn’t want to do anything that could remotely harm you. Even if you were precisely asking for that harm.
But he would never hurt you. Or so he thought. Because on the second Wednesday of the tenth year since he passed his test, the heat hit him. And you were there, leaking and ready to be fucked within an inch of your life. Ready to be… bred.
And then he started talking. He told you about breeding you, about filling you to the brim. Until you couldn’t move because you’d be so full of his dick and his come you’d be unable to form a proper thought. And well… He wasn’t far from that because your tongue was lolling out of your mouth, and you were staring at the horizon while he mounted you like the monster he was.
His hand was on your t-dick and he was fucking your hole in a way not known to humans before. You couldn’t speak, you could barely moan between thrust and thrust, and holding your hands against the wall not to hit your head. You were in the seventh heaven.
Orgasm after orgasm rocked your body, his brain still coherent enough to bring you to the edge over and over, until it was almost painful, until your legs couldn’t hold you anymore, but he was there to hold you up while he continued to rut into your hole. And you preened, and you sobbed… Your legs were trembling so bad you could feel every single breath of his chest through his dick.
It was the most you’d felt ever, and at the same time, you didn’t know if you could hold it together anymore. But he didn’t give you any choice. He came. And came. And came again. Until your stomach was bloated, and you could feel his seed swimming inside of you. Every time you moved, everything inside of you ached in the best way possible.
When the heat finally passed, he pulled out and a river of come left your body, much to his pleasure, who sat back and watched how your pretty (his words) your hole looked right there and then. You weren’t fully coherent, though.
