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#pinkish positive
pinkishpositive · 9 months
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Hey you! ✨️ I hope you're taking a good care of yourself, you're important too! 🩷
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theood · 1 year
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Still sore. Had a scheduling error todayx making my driver wait way longer. *I* was not fucking told like "hey ok si this is your time and spot everyday"
I walked up fucking. Like 4 or 5, 1+ mile driveways 8). That shit is fucking hell. EVERYONE stop having long ass drivewaysm. I had ti walk almost all yjr way down a trailer park at night in the woods (yay! Mixed feelings om that!) amd genuinely haf to stop to take a HUGE breather bc I was dyimg.
This is tje best job for making me feel unfit. Like GOD!!! Hopefully by next week I get this schedule worked out
The person who does them, whenever I call her shes never there and I het asked "well do you have her cellphone.."" LIKE NO I DON'T. I WAS GIVEN ONE NUMBER ANF TOLD IF I HAD ANY QUESTIONS FOR HER TO CALL THAT ONE AUGHJJJJHHFHHHH.
My. Driver today 2as... okay? I felt like we didn't click as much and I felt like I was standing Awkwardly around a lot. Hr wasn't mean or anything and I certainly get ppl who are just there for money and to clock out but the job im doinnf SOME talking is required.
We talked very briefly. It would nit break my heary to never drive with him again
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mysicklove · 6 months
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍
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DAY 27: OVERSTIMULATION + EDGING
With: Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuji Itadori
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: sub! Megumi x dom! gn! reader x sub! Yuuji, sadistic/crazy?/meanish reader, weird amounts of cum...like a strangely alot of cum involved, frottage - mlm (ik ik i have another day for this only but i just had to include it), handjobs, bondage, megumi in subspace, megumi goes a little insane? reader checks up on him tho, orgasm denial, orgasm control,
A/N: this is alot. like kinda hardcore. if this is ur first fic of mine or ur first dom! reader fic....try a less agressive fic LOL
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Neither of them understood how they got into this situation. The two of them were friends. Never in their lives did they think that they would see each other in positions like these. Megumi was never supposed to see Yuuji’s half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, and Yuuji was never supposed to see Megumi’s high pitched moans, and twitching body. It was lewd. All of it was so lewd, and it seemed to turn the boys on even more.
But of course, this wasnt the first time you've done this. It was a routine by now, but even so, the boys seemed to flush in embarrassment when the two of them knock on your apartment door together. But it may be the slight humiliation that has them crawling back each week.
The two of them sit on either side of you, trapping you in between their muscular bodies. But you weren’t afraid – In fact, even with your cornered position, you were by far in the most control. The way you and the boys like it.
Your hands move up and down in a repetitive stroking motion on both of their cocks. Fushiguro’s is longer but on the thinner side, pretty with a pinkish tip that contrasts the pale skin nicely. Itadoris was girthier, bigger in general, and an impressive sight overall. You even caught Megumi staring wide-eyed the second his best friend pulled down his pants. But even so, Yuuji appeared sheepish, almost embarrassed at his size. It was quite cute, frankly.
But now, they lay content against you. Megumi is on the stiffer side, still embarrassed at the whole situation, but his soft moans show that he is enjoying it. Yuuji, on the other hand, rests his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing the flesh to show how pleased he is. 
“I’ve got a fun idea,” You hum, not stopping your movements on their cocks. It’s a slow pace, but not slow enough where they feel frustrated. A good motion to keep the boys from whining too much. Although, you do plan to change that.
Megumi hums, his eyes falling shut with a shaky sigh. Yuuji blinks up at you, curious. “Yeah? What is it?”
You turn to him with a smile, and accidentally stop your movements. Megumi, ever the little princess, whines out immediately in complaint. Yuuji chuckles into your shoulder at the noise, and you roll your own eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. I know,” You say, hands moving again before he could bark out a real complaint.
“Well,” You hum and then scan the room. “Need a coin or something small,” You murmur, eyes furrowing to search your place for the object. Yuuji, ever the one to please, doesn’t hesitate to pull away from your touch and go searching through his bag stark naked.
Megumi blinks at him and then leans on you, his messy hair tickling your chin. “He is like a dog.”
“It’s cute.”
“Yeah. Can you?” He mumbles into your neck. You smile, knowing exactly what he wants, and thumb at his cock’s head. His eyes slightly roll back, and he groans into your skin. “J-Just like that.”
Yuuji is back in less than a minute, slotting himself in the space next to you, and slightly grinding himself on your knee for a little extra stimulation. He hands you the coin, and you smile at him, kissing his cheek in reward. He beams at you, and you can’t help but smile back. 
You pull your hand away from Megumi again, and he basically growls into your shoulder. “So dramatic,” You tease as the boy pouts, grumbling and looking away. “Alright. I'm going to put this coin in one of my hands behind my back, and you guys have to guess which one has it.”
“What’s this for?” The dark-haired one demands.
“You will still touch us, right?” The pink-haired one pleads.
You chuckle at them both. “It’s a secret. And yes, don’t worry, sweetheart.”
They were both intrigued by your actions but obviously wanted whatever game this is to go by quickly so that you'll begin to jerk them off again. 
“Whoever guesses correctly gets to cum tonight, and the other does not.”
The boys eyes snap to one another. Neither of them wants the latter. Their kinship was put to a hold. In this moment, all either of them wanted was to have a shattering orgasm.
You place your hands behind your back and move the coin into a hand that they dont see. Then your place two fists in front of them. “Alright who is guessing first?”
You should have known that the two of them werent willing to be polite to one another. “That one!” Both of the boys exclaim, pointing to the fist farthest from each of them. At least they chose different hands, you note, trying to hold back a grin. 
The two of them vibrate with nerves, leaning forward and almost pushing at one another. You hold your hands out and wait for a moment, building up more tension. Megumi barks a complaint about how long you are taking, so you roll your eyes and flip your hand open, exposing the coin to the boys.
Yuuji seems to deflate, eyes widening, and then collapsing his head onto your shoulder with a broken whine. Megumi on the other hand tries not to show his excitement, but the widening grin on his face, and the way his fists clench in victory conveys otherwise. 
You spare him a feline grin, and he immediately knows that something is amiss. Yuuji wasnt the one to get put through much harsh treatment, considering the boy was always the sweetest to you. Pampered, the two of them were, even if Megumi was a little bit more temperamental. It was rare for them to get punished. You had your rules to follow, and they did (even if Megumi complained once or twice) without hesitation. So there was never a need to be mean to them.
But of course, you never did need a reason, did you?
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Yuuji stares. As if in a trance, the dark eyes never leave the sight in front of him. He is completely infatuated by it, desires it, really. 
Two quick strokes, focusing primarily on the head, snaps Yuuji out of his trance in an instant. His back straightens, and his eyes widen as he doubles over on himself, nails digging into his thigh. He lets out a shaky, “Heh-Ah!” and his whole body shivers. He was teetering on the edge, just one more stroke and he was bound to come crumbling down. He wanted nothing more than to do so. Your hands pull away, and Yuuji's mouth goes dry, but he doesnt complain. His eyes flicker to it again.
“No. No. No more. No more! I can't do it anymore!” The dark haired man screeches, shaking his head from side to side and biting on his lip. Cum glides down the pink tip, and it begins to coat his balls a murky shade of white. It's sticky, and it makes him feel gross, but his stomach and thighs were no better. It was everywhere, or at least Megumi feels so.
His eyes are tied behind his back. A cruel precaution that Yuuji didn't have. But that is simply because Yuuji was less likely to touch himself than Megumi was to touch you. His wrists are bound together in pretty red soft rope. Your favorite of course. He hates it.
Megumi's legs kick out, and tears stain his face. You frown at him, using your free hand to remove the lip from his teeth. “You're gonna hurt yourself,” You mumble, pouting slightly, and forcing his mouth open. He sniffles, shaking his head, but lets you.
“Y-You're hurting me!” He yelps, leaning his body toward you to convey how upset he feels. 
You bark a laugh, shaking your head. “Well that's dramatic. To cum and cum on repeat sounds so appealing…” Your eyes flicker to the pink haired boy. “To Yuuji at least, yeah?”
Megumi notices for the first time tonight Yuuji's stare. It wasn't on his face though, it was focused solely on his now white coated cock. He is panting, chest raising and falling with each deep breath. A drop of precum falls onto the towel beneath him, but he doesn't spare it a glance. His dark eyes never leave Megumi’s cock. Envy is what he feels. How badly did he wish his own dick was stained that color.
Megumi tries to shut his legs in embarrassment, but your hand was currently resting on the base of it, so he fails to. You use one hand to force them apart so that Yuuji can see, and then you give Megumi three warning strokes. His body arches and a broken cry is let out from the overstimulation. He has already cum three times now in this short span of time.
You hover near his ear, gazing at Yuuji in amusement. “Look ‘gumi. He’s enthralled by it. All he wants to do is cum, and here you are complaining about it!” You purr, kissing his cheek and then pulling away.
Yuuji finally speaks up, probably seeing that you kissed the other from his peripheral vision. He glances up at you, and his shoulders slump. “Please.”
A puddle of precum has formed beneath him, but it was nothing compared to the liquid that coats Megumi's pale skin. Your hands begin to pick up the slow pace again, and the boy begins to hiss out. He squirms in your hold, and gets close enough to you for his teeth to latch onto your shoulder. You chuckle at him, but bare him no mind. “What are you pleading about, Yuuji darling?”
He opens his mouth, glances at Megumi who is trying desperately to tear out of the restraints, and then closes it again. His friend's cries go straight to his cock, that was borderline turning purple at this point. He shakes his head, and puppy dog eyes bore into yours. “Please. It hurts.”
You reach over to him, and Yuuji knows better than to get his hopes up. In fact he knows exactly what is happening, so he squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself. One slow pump, and then two, and Yuuji is just grazing his high. He can almost taste it, but you pull away before he can fully experience it. His fingers tense up, and he forcefully raises them to his head to cover his eyes. He was bound to touch himself if he kept them there. Yuuji clenches his teeth and groans, while his cock twitches a couple times, and another glob drops.
“F-Fuck me,” He cries after a moment, resisting the urge to bury his fingers into his skin to hopefully ease the tortuous feeling. 
Your hand makes a particularly loud squelching noise, and Yuuji's eyes are back onto your hand and Megumi's cock. He stares at it with need wanting nothing more to be covered in his own cum. To cum as many times as he wishes. It was driving him insane.
Megumi seems to be curling into you. His head somehow found his way into your neck, and he sobs into it, searching for some sort of comfort. He is hiccuping by now, and a bountiful of different fluids coat his face, let out without his control. “So mean. Mean. Mean. Mean,” The boy chants, and you hum at him, petting his hair.
“I know. But you are so pretty like this, you know I can't help it,” You murmur, one hand continuing to stroke him off, while the other tries to comfort him.
“Noooooo,” He whines in return, and you kiss his temple, mumbling into his ear about how wrong he is. 
You hear Yuuji call your name and you spare him a glance. Tears were finally cascading down his pretty tan face, and your eyes light up. “What's wrong, Yuuji?”
He comes tumbling forward, his forehead resting on the bed before you. He cries into it, and grips onto the sheets just inches from Megumi's knee. “I-It hurts. I'm going insane. Please. Please, I'll do anything. Please let me cum, I am begging you,” He warbles, close to tearing the sheets apart. 
You sigh and look away from the two. “Well you two are no fun,” You complain, ignoring the way Megumi whines into your neck. Yuuji doesn't move from his bowing position. “Yuuji, you want to cum?”
“I-I'll do anything! I promise!” He proclaims into the sheet.
You smile at the back of his head. “Good! You can rut against Megumi's cock then, since you've been eyeing it all night.”
You pull your hand away from the cum coated cock, and wipe the remains on Megumi's thighs. He remains quiet, trying to catch his breath.
Yuuji raises his head from his bowed position, his cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink. He glances at his friend's trembling body and gulps. “That will…I–F-Fushiguro?”
Green eyes flicker to you first, and it doesn't take much thought to realize that he seemed to slip into the subspace. The eyes are hazy, and little thought seems to be behind them. “You…Want me to?”
You rub at his cheek. “I do. You'll make Yuuji feel good. And I bet you'll have fun too!” You coax, already helping him out of his place in your lap. He struggles to stay up, body nearly collapsing from exertion. Yuuji catches him before he falls back, and you grin at the pink haired boy with a nod.
The hands still remain tied behind his back, and he holds himself up on his knees. Yuuji is in a similar kneeling position, stabilizing the other by holding onto his shoulder. His eyes flicker back to Megumi's cock, completely naturally lubricated, and then he shakes his head to snap out of his thoughts. “I-It wont take me long, okay Fushiguro? J-Just need...Need a little stimulation…Please?”
“Yeah, I know. Just be gentle, please. I’m s-sensitive,” He mumbles in return, strangely not caring about his tear and drool face. Even his stained cock didn't bother him.
Yuuji nods his head, and gulps, turning to you for confirmation. You nod at him, and in return, he brings Megumi's body closer to his. Their stomachs touch, and the pink haired man places his head in the others neck. He brings one hand to Megumi's ass, and pushes it forward, forcing the two of their cocks to touch.
Its so wet, so lubricated, and must be so easy to glide against. Yuujis eyes roll back, and Megumi lets out a broken cry. He starts his rutting, and everything seems to go blank. It's wet, and the two of their cocks make a lewd sort of noise that drives him insane. “Oh fuck, Fushiguro,” Yuuji whimpers, and Megumi in return cries out. 
He forces Megumis body closer to his, and the man yelps. “Gentle Itadori, p-please!” But the other doesnt listen, and continues to grind their cocks together at a rapid pace, loving the feeling of the sticky lubrication. More tears come tumbling out of the dark haired man, and you watch in silence, completely intrigued by the whole thing. 
You watch Yuuji grab some cum from Megumis thighs, and place it onto their cocks. He moans out, and your eyes widen in delight. “Yuuji,” You purr, and the man glances over at you, shivering under your gaze. “If you get him to cum again, could you imagine how much extra lubricant you will have?”
Yuujis eyes widen at the prospect, and he begins to respond, but is cut off. Megumi begins to laugh, and the noise startles the both of you. The laugh is more like a yelp, a sort of mix of a cry and a giggle. You glance over to him, and his face is broken out into a grin. The tears dont stop flowing from his eyes, and his whole body is twitching rapidly under Yuuji's hold. A strange sight. 
“Megumi,” You question, forcing Yuujis hips away from the other to give him space just in case something was wrong. “You alright, love?”
He shakes his head back and forth rapidly and you raise your eyebrows.  “N-Nothings gonna come out!” He giggles with a hiccup, and Yuuji's eyes widen in surprise. “Gonna shoot blanks!”
You gulp, and a shiver runs down your spine. You feel Yuujis gaze on you, but you don't look away from Megumi. “I-I wanna see it,” You whisper, pupils dilating at the prospect. You let go of Yuujis hips, and nod at him to continue.
“I-I dont think I can last that long,” The pink haired one mumbles out, and you brush him off.
“You will, do you understand?”
He whimpers, but nods, and then brings Megumi back closer to him. But to both of their surprises, you wrap your hand around their cocks. Yuuji whines, and Megumi borderlines yelps. You don't say anything as your hand rises and falls. “N-No, no, no. I can't last. Please. Please.”
Megumi's fit of giggles ends quickly, and he's back to crying. Yuuji’s teeth dig into his neck, and the dark haired man's back arches and he hisses out. “Yes you can,” You encourage, “You just gotta wait for Megumi to cum.”
Yuujis arms come wrapped around the other, and he begins to grind himself onto the other. “F-Fushiguro, you have to cum. Please cum. Please please cum!” He pleads, hoping that his movement will help spur the other on.
Megumi shakes his head back and forth, and he continues to sob. “I-I'm close. Its too much, oh fuck!” Your hand focuses on the tip, and you watch Megumi's hands try to break out of the restraints again.
Yuujis nails drag down the others' backs and by now, he's crying. “It hurts. I need it. Please. I can't hold it. Please Fushiguro let me cum!”
A broken cry is let out, and Megumi hits his climax. The second Yuuji sees Megumi's eyes roll back, he comes tumbling after him. Unlike the stoic boy proclaimed earlier, two globs of cum leak out of his pink cock. But, to be honest, you're not too disappointed, because the sight of them cumming together was truly a pretty sight. Yuuji shoots his load all over Megumi's stomach.
Yuuji clings onto the other like Megumi was some sort of lifeline, and if Megumi didn't have his hands binded, you are sure he would do the same. Tears stain the tan boy's shoulder, and he continues to hiccup through it all. Yuuji, on the other hand, is loud. He moans out, high in pitch and cracked.
And when the two come down from their high they peel away from each other, completely spent. Yuuji finds himself resting his head on your shoulder, with a content smile, and Megumi is sprawled across your lap, currently getting untied and cleaned up. And eventually, once the two of them are cleaned up, and receive proper after care (involving tons and tons of praise for megumi, and physical affection for Yuuji), the two of them pass out, curled up next to one another.
But everything after that night was strange. Whenever you ask them to guess what the hand of the coin is, the boys seem to scamper away from you, completely terrified of the outcome. It was a pity, truly, especially since you plan to have them switch positions next time. Luckily you didn't need a coin game to decide their fates.
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beelmons · 8 months
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How to shut a genius up.
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
cw: face riding, i think that's it?
Spencer is, gently put, annoying.
But well, aren't we all at times? At least, he's annoying for all the right reasons. Rampant mind eager to share an endless stream of knowledge, well-deserved validation of his own extraordinary skills, pinkish lips that spoke their mind without concern, words were a tool he used for good, never with an ounce of malice.
It seemed to you that talking was all he knew. No matter how much you rubbed your hand on his thigh at the bar the team went to, or that asked him for his shower after a drunk man dropped an entire yard of beer on your clothes, or the fact that you were standing in his livingroom with only a towel wrapped around your body, and how you were paying no mind to whatever he was saying and your eyes were fixed on his mouth, the same mouth you had been craving for quite a while now.
"...and that's why, although I'm not a fan of digital encyclopedias, Wikipedia can actually be considered a reliable source of information. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that the referenciation of other related concepts makes it the most efficient learning tool of the century."
Little did you know, he had begun his little rant in an attempt to keep himself distracted from your nudeness beneath the fabric that covered you. Trying to keep the blood from flowing too much to the south.
"You talk too much." you blurted out.
"Sorry?" he asked in confusion "What are you—?"
Your actions, as was your wording, were automatic. You took a couple of steps forward and faintly heard his inquiring voice in the background, but you didn't quite care. You were aiming for a goal: to make him shut up. Your lips attached to his in a frustrated kiss, arms wrapping around his neck.
He was dubfounded to a point where his movements also became clumsy, he stepped on a random book that was misplaced and lost his balance. His hands had gripped onto your sides, so you couldn't help but to fall onto the ground along with him.
The rucks caused him to wince in discomfort, a sensation the only lasted about the three seconds that took him to open his eyes. Due to the angle, you had given an extra step and fallen a couple more centimeteres forward, your towel spread open, and your stomach at the same level of his eyes.
While you yourself figured out what was going on, a sudden rush of embarassment overtook you. Logically, since you were now bare naked hovering over your crush.
"Shit!" you yelled out as you were on your knees and palms on the ground "I'm so sorry, Spencer, I don't know what took over me!"
Beridden by anguish, instead of taking the sensible action of rolling off of him, you tried to crawl your way forward. What you didn't see coming, however, was the fact that, as your knees pressed next to his head when you tried to drag yourself from his sight, his hands would press against your thighs to stop you.
Your core was now loitering over his face, out in the open for his eyes to devour. For once, he had found himself amiss of words. You, on your part, were hot to your face with shyness. This had not been what you planned when you decided to kiss him, certainly. Although, such train of thought would be shortly stopped by Spencer himself.
His arms curled around your thighs instead and gently tugged them down; by the time to were 'sitting' on his face, his tongue was already out. The feeling of his muscle entering you caused a loud, startled gasp from you, and before you could get used to the sensation, it traveled further up to your clit.
"Spencer..." you whimpered slightly at the pleasure he was giving you.
You decided to straighten your back to be fully sitting, and in this new position you were in control of your own hips, same that began to rock back and forth against his lips. On his part, single grunts of delight could be heard, his hands positioned themselves at your buttocks, helping you push your body against his face.
His mouth was eager to taste more of you, you could feel the entirety of it working it's way around your pussy, his lips slurping the juices that dripped from you out of arousal. Your hands curled on his hair to prevent you from falling to the side, given that your legs were about close to giving in.
His nose and chin did their part as well, touching nerves that would be otherwise unattended in any other position. The rubbing and moiture of his abused face were sending waves of intense pleasure through out your body, in fact, at some point you sort of forgot he was there, eyes tight shut, just using him to get yourself off.
Hence, why when you finally reached your climax, you came without restraint all over him. His tongue didn't start working inspite of your body falling limp forward, he was set on cleaning the mess he had created.
You whined in complaint at the slight overstimulation, and he took it as a sign to push you off, causing you to roll over as you should initially have. Instead of moving away from you, his face was buried between your legs the instead he was on his stomach, hardworking tongue lazily tasting around your entrance.
"You finally shut up." your back arched as you breathed out, bracing yourself of the next round you quickly understood was coming.
"I have an enough good reason to."
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ourautumn86 · 4 months
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cw; +18 content, mdni💋
ellie williams x fem! reader
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you can’t stop moaning, her fingers deep inside your pussy, juices all over her palm as she fucks you over and over again… you sound so wet. “look how you have me…” you whimper in her ear. you’re so wet for her and you’re so warm… she tries to shush you but you’re scratching her naked back and it feels so good…
“wanna taste you.” the auburn head says in a whisper, and you moan, nodding. “sit on my face.” she orders, more like begs, voice whiny and needy before pushing her fingers out of your stretched out and soaked cunt, and you’re quick to straddle her. on the dim lights of your room she can make out the glistening slick that soaks your folds. she bits down on her lip, her hands coming up to your thighs as you finally position yourself, and then she’s diving in, pushing you down on her face, nose taking in your scent. and ellie moans.
you taste so good… her green eyes focusing on the way your tits bounce as you thrust against her tongue with a sigh, thighs squeezing her head when her pretty pinkish lips suck on your puffy clit. she groans when you pull on her hair. ‘cause you know what it does to her. and she can’t help the way her hips buck against the air, pussy throbbing. you ride her face in between breathy moans, asking her to suck harder, to flick her tongue faster against that little bundle of nerves. and when you cum… fuck. it’s heavenly. you sound so pretty, gasping and tugging at her hair, shivering at the pleasure.
but it’s not long until you’re laying on top of her, pulling her for a kiss in need to taste the cum she’d just swallowed in your mouth. you love it.
humping against the other, moaning in each others mouths, ellie grabbing your ass to fuck you harder against her thigh, your over sensitive clit sliding on her skin. “how i wish i had my strap with me to fuck the shit out of you.” she groans and you feel dizzy. she has a fucking mouth on her. “to fuck you open on my cock over and over again until you’re crying for me.” there’s cum all over her fingers and her face, and she’s still thirsty for more.
she wants to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. so you can’t complain when you find yourself buried against the sheets, hands holding for dear life onto the sheets as she fucks her pussy against yours, keeping you still every time your hips jerk when your clits rub against the other to fuck you harder. “stay quiet baby, they’re gonna hear us.” she smirks, knowing that you don’t give a fuck about your friends, passed out on your living room’s sofa after a smoke session. she’s fucking you too good to care. ellie needs to not groan when she watches you suck on the mess you made out of her fingers as she fucks your mouth and throat with them, kissing you after you clean it all. “good girl…”
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a/n; do you ever get a flashback? yeah this was it for me
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hotyanderedaddies · 2 months
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Blake Gives You a Valentine's Day Gift
[Yandere Bully]
[Here's a short oneshot with Blake which takes place before he claims you! And Happy Valentine's Day!]
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[Yandere! Bad Boy x GN! Nerdy Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Valentine’s Day: the day for couples to express their love to one another.
Sometimes you felt a little annoyed about the over-commercialization of a holiday that was meant to celebrate love… but a little part of you also knew deep down that you said that because you were single on Valentine’s Day.
Sighing, you tried your best to ignore the scores of lovey dovey couples walking down the hallways of the crowded school. 
All you wanted to do was get home as soon as possible so that you could spend the night just lounging around in bed— binge watching tons of crappy reality TV shows while eating a whole box of parmesan Cheez-Its.
It sounded perfect!
Your locker door slammed shut, jolting you out of your envious stupor and making you jump back.
Standing there, his large hand placed onto the front of your locker door, was Blake: the ultimate school bully, and someone who you tried your hardest to avoid at all costs.
“Here,” Blake grunted as he forcefully shoved something at you.
“Wha—?” you wondered aloud as you examined the stuffed animal that had been thrusted into your hold. It was a classic teddy bear with a cute little red bow around its neck. You looked up at the bully with confused eyes.
A pinkish hue formed on Blake’s face and he averted his gaze from yours for a brief moment. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he muttered.
Before you could say anything, Blake turned around and disappeared down the hallway, swallowed up in the crowd of other students.
You examined the teddy bear in your grasp, wondering why on earth Blake would give it to you of all people. You barely even spoke to the guy! Why would he want to give you a gift on Valentine’s Day?
You kept puzzling over it for the rest of the day, and even when you got home.
You placed the teddy bear on your desk in your bedroom, which was positioned across from your bed. You kept eying the teddy bear, still confused to no end. 
Blake was the scary school bully who never spoke to people, unless it was to tell them to fuck off. So why would he want to give you a Valentine’s Day present?
It made no sense to you at all.
But still, you couldn’t help but smile the tiniest bit that you had your very first Valentine’s Day gift from a guy… even if that guy was Blake.
Chuckling a little to yourself, you quietly muttered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Blake” to the teddy bear before returning your attention back to the TV…
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Blake,” you said, your audio being caught perfectly by the hidden camera in the teddy bear.
Blake eagerly watched the video feed on his phone, staring hungrily at the image of you sprawled out on your bed. Even though you were clad in a hoodie and sweatpants, Blake was still rock hard as he imagined himself wrapped around your form, securing his arms and legs around you so that you couldn’t leave his side.
His heart raced faster when you said his name, and he grew desperate for you to say it again.
Buying that teddy bear with the hidden camera was the best idea he’s ever had, he truly felt. Now instead of having to wait all night and through the tortuous weekends to see you, Blake could get a glimpse of his darling any time he wanted.
Blake’s been madly in love with you ever since he first laid eyes on you.
He knew from that moment that you were made for him — meant to be his, and his alone.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” Blake whispered, his fingers caressing your image on the screen. “I love you so, so much. And I promise we’ll be together really soon.”
1K notes · View notes
catiuskaa · 3 months
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you asked me to stay. [Not yet].
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PAIRING! idol!bangchan x reader
SUMMARY: even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.
WC: 4.1k
CW: starts off fluffy, then angsty if you squint?, but develops into a (short but still) spicy NSFW. lol, the triangle of (fan)fiction! not gonna say anything else cause I don’t want to spoil it, teehee. Have fun! (I did!)
REQUESTED! here by my sweet 'n spicy baby @sharonxdevi, hope you like my take on it! <3
A/N: wanted to pop down here as a reminder that just because the setting is a fan meeting and yada yada, this work is still unrelated to Channie as an idol. now, please keep reading! I really like how this one turned out 🤭
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
He's so sweet.
You kept giggling and blushing like an idiot, but how couldn't you? The Christopher Bang was right before you, smiling and laughing at the lame jokes you blabbered as a blush surely creeped out, your face a deep shade of a pinkish tone.
“Oh, and I wanted to mention that you look so amazing in your performances! You have me addicted, Chan.” You giggled.
He chuckled, blushing lightly, raising a hand to his mouth, half covering it. “Really?”
You could melt at the sight of him.
“Yeah! I’ve watched all your fancams.” You nodded with enthusiasm.
His laughs turned louder, his ears red. “I feel so shy knowing someone as pretty as you watches me dance so much.”
You blinked, your eyes wide.
As what?
He cheeked his tongue, eyeing at you sheepishly.
Oh. So he knew what he was doing.
You smirked softly. Your change in attitude made him raise his eyebrows slightly.
“One minute.”
You eyed at the suited man that came to talk to Chan and smiled. He left back to his position, and you leaned closer to the idol.
“Just have to say, that tongue of yours?” You chuckled, and to him, it was one fo the most enticing sounds he had heard in a while. “Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want STAY to act up.”
There was a bubbly feeling in your stomach that only heightened when you watched his face displaying raw surprise.
You were about to combust in spontaneous fire because, well, you just flirted with an idol, a real famous one, that is, but then, he smirked, leaning even closer to you. You could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His hand softly took yours, and your breath hitched as he snickered playfuly, making you feel a shiver travel down your spine.
“I’m thinking there are far more interesting places where I could keep it.” He grinned in a teasing tone, staring at your lips for a second, licking his own. “But I’m obedient. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you say so.” He stated lowly, his eyes locked on yours. …
Oh.
OH.
MY GOD.
He squeezed your hand, sitting back again. His face was covered by a shade of red, and he couldn’t exactly place what had taken over him.
For a moment, he bit his lip, wary of your reaction, considering you hadn’t so much as muttered anything, frozen in your place.
But then you chuckled, struggling to grasp what had just happened, and his whole body relaxed when you squeezed his hand too.
“Bet. You won’t.” You snickered, standing up, siren eyes staring down at him as you moved away, allowing the next person’s turn.
He winked at you as you left.
W-What had just happened?
Your mind felt fuzzy.
Had Bang Chan just done the triangle method on you?
Chan stared at your back before facing the person in front of him.
He could’ve sworn he had seen you before.
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
Chan grimaced at Hyunjin, sinking his head back on the pillow in his hotel room.
“Leave him alone, Jinnie.” Yongbok frowned slightly. “But I have to say. Not the smartest move, mate.”
Chan sighed in frustration. “I know, I know.”
And it was because he knew that he didn’t dare to say, but just thinking about you, he also knew for a fact that he wouldn’t hesitate on doing it again. Had he had the opportunity, maybe even more.
But idols don’t do that.
Because it is for a reason that idols don’t date fans. Marketing? 100%. Sure. But it also protected them from scandals and such. Or that’s what Chan liked to say to himself.
Felix felt a bit guilty. Chan had gotten scolded by almost all the members now, some who went more ballistic than others —like Hyunjin, who still was fuming, claiming that if Chan was going to do something forbidden, he could’ve said something better than that—, but he looked at the fellow Australian and stood up, laying his small hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.
The taller one stopped his rambling against Chan and his alleged lack of creativity regarding flirting, and his eyes softened, looking at Yongbok.
“Give the man a break.” Felix smiled softly. “He understands what he’s done. He’s a big boy. Right, Channie?”
The big boy lazily raised his hand from the bed, not moving his head from the pillow as he hummed and raised his thumb.
“This bitch—” Hyunjin started, threatening to throw a pillow at the older one, but Felix quickly pushed him away, taking him back to their room.
Finally alone after what seemed like a lifetime, Chan turned around, staring at the ceiling.
He covered his face with his hands.
Reckless. Stupid, reckless idiot.
It had to be past twelve when he got tired of waiting for sleep to get to him. That never happened anyways. So he stood up with a groan, yawning out of boredom, quickly fetching a jacket and heading to the elevators with slow steps.
He got in and slowly started to put on his beanie and his mask, which wouldn’t really make a difference if someone recognized him, still, it gave him some reassurance. But then, the elevator stopped barely two floors after he got in.
His whole body tensed up.
He recognized who stepped in, messy hair, funny slippers and padded jacket on.
He knew who that was, because he had been right.
He had seen you before.
“Oh.” You smiled, and he could tell by the small wrinkles in your eyes, because the bottom half of your face was hidden by the jacket’s high neck. “Good night.” You mumbled softly.
He nodded. He was afraid you’d recognize him. He was unsure of what to do himself —or if he should do anything—, he couldn’t even think of how you would react. And just the idea that you wouldn’t like seeing him there made him hide his face more in his dark mask, so instead, he fidgeted with his room card, not daring to look at you for too long.
“Trouble sleeping?” You pondered in a kind tone. He nodded again, and you smiled. He had to hold back the impulse of lowering your jacket just so he could see your bright features, the ones that had charmed him so much barely a couple of hours ago.
“Same here.” You muttered, and he could’ve sworn that your voice alone, warm and soothing, could singlehandedly lull him to sleep in a heartbeat. “Walking helps though, don’t you think?”
He, again, just managed to nod. But for some reason, your presence didn’t make him feel guilty for not talking. In the middle of the night nothing seemed to have any rules between you two and the four walls of the elevator.
“Sorry, am I bothering you?” You asked in a murmur.
It was the first time he shook his head no, vigorously so, and you blushed lightly, smiling.
“Good to know.” You grinned, chuckling softly. The elevator dinged, arriving to the last floor. Chan held back a frustrated groan, yearning to keep hearing your voice.
“Have a good night.” You smiled, but his hand softly took yours.
“Huh?” You muttered softly.
Chan struggled. Fuck, shit, fuck. He had done that completely out of reflex. He didn’t know what to say, and just scrathed the side of his face, staring at your linked hands.
He shook his head once more, asking you to stay.
To you, you already had the weird feeling that you knew him. But he touched your hand, and something from it felt shockingly familiar.
Now, you could’ve sworn you had seen him before.
“What is it?” You asked, your voice coated in something sweet, something that Chan suddenly wanted to taste. “Would you like to walk with me?”
He nodded eagerly. And you grinned sheepishly.
You two crossed through the hotel main’s hall nonchalantly, and Chan just followed you, intriegued that you hadn’t taken the main entrance door to exit.
“Trust me,” you muttered, smiling. He felt it was scary that he would, in a heartbeat. “The gardens are so much better.”
You took his hand. A motion completely out of reflex, that both of you only allowed yourselves to yearn for in silence.
You grinned at him, turning around, and his breath hitched, lips parted beneath his mask when he realized how close you were.
You opened a black door to your right with a soft push of your body.
The hotel gardens at night were like a dream. The moonlight turned everything into a soft, magical scene. Tall trees swayed quietly, and you could hear crickets and leaves rustling. There was a small lake below it, its water calm, that reflected the image above it like a mirror, moon and stars glistening on the clear surface.
Even if Chan was only looking at the glow through your eyes.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.
You stared back at him. Something in his eyes reminded you of someone you knew. A peculiar someone, that is.
He hummed in agreement, and your smile widened.
“Shall we?” You giggled in a murmur, letting him step outside before you.
There was a warmth in the night that ushered Chan to take off his mask and hat.
But he didn’t dare to. Not yet.
You two walked alongside, hands and knuckles brushing against each other, and the idol allowed himself to grin as you smiled, looking at the flowers that decorated the place. It was the first time in his life that he had found solace in the shared silence of insomnia.
With a swift motion, he surrendered. He felt like it wasn’t fair to know who you where if you didn’t —or couldn’t— recognize him. To hell with it, he thought, taking his hat and mask off.
But, much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as glance at him. You just snickered when he sighed, sounding happier, breathing in the sudden cold breeze that swooshed in the garden.
“Better, huh?” You mumbled in light amusement.
He smiled, shoving his hidden identity in his pockets.
“Much.” Chan muttered.
His heart beat loudly on his ears. He could feel it pulsating rapidly, waiting for the moment where you would turn to face him.
But you weren’t, just strolling down the stone path, callously ignoring his nervous demeanour.
He was about to stop and move you, but instead, your hand took his again.
And then you squeezed it lightly. Much like he had done a couple of hourse ago.
His breath hitched. He stopped walking.
“Chan?” You smiled.
He felt chaos unravel inside him, his cheeks blushing, his palms getting sweaty, and his heart giddily beating in his chest.
Another rush of soft air crossed through the hotel’s gardens, making your hair move with it. He could smell your light scent, something that felt warm inside him, something that he felt could lull him asleep.
You grinned.
“Hi.”
He chuckled lowly. He hadn’t let go of your hand. A part of him didn’t want to. Not yet.
“Hi.”
He saw you blush under the moonlight, not knowing his red-tinted cheeks were more obvious than yours.
“What’s a boy as pretty as you doing in a place like this?”
He blinked, his eyes wide.
As what?
He saw you cheek your tongue, doe eyes looking at him teasingly.
Oh. So you knew what you were doing.
He chuckled, thinking that was going to be all your teasing.
“Judging by how long it took for you to talk, I guess you did mean to keep your end of the deal.”
“Huh?” He inquired softly.
“You know.” You bit your lip and blushed a bit more, making him more interested, taking a step towards you without realizing. “Keeping your mouth shut. Like the obedient boy you are.”
He started breathing heavily, a low laugh rolling off his tone.
“Oh, yeah?” His smirk was only powered by yours. “I must say, I can be quite rebellious.”
“Really?” You snickered, feeling his hand squeeze yours again.
“Very.” He gulped. His bravado only lasted for so much, and deep inside, he was equally scared as curious.
He wanted to keep going. He wanted you to stay.
“Are you trying to prove it?” You mocked cheekily.
He stared at your lips, his breath felt heavy. “Would you like me to prove it?”
His hand threatened to reach for your cheek, but it was you who finally held it and moved it towards your face.
“Bet.” You giggled. “You won’t.”
The night air was crisp as your eyes, deep and expressive, locked with his, inviting and enticing, a secret to be held in them. His hair, often styled with flair, rested curly and messy, but you couldn’t help but get lost in the untamed beauty that he portrayed. Not even his lips gently grazing yours could wipe either of your smiles under the moonlight.
And then, for a moment, it wasn’t gentle.
Maybe it was because he sighed against your lips, or maybe it was because you followed an impulse and bit his lower lip, but then it got twisted. Tongues danced with one another, fighting for dominance in a burst of sudden passion.
“C-chan,” you gulped, arms traveling to his nape, playing with his hair. It made him weak.
“Chris,” he sighed, yearning to taste your lips again. And again. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “Call me— call me Chris.”
You chuckled. “Only if you call me…”
You were going to tease him, but your ideas suddenly flew away form your mind when he started peppering kisses on your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.
“What?” He snickered. “A pet name of sorts?” He was teasing you, and he was so enjoying it, tasting the weirdly sweet and enticing flavour of your skin in his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” God, he needed more.
You bit your lip, holding back sounds behind heavy breaths, and he patted your thighs, making you jump into his arms without hesitation. Quickly, he moved the both of you, pinning you against the wall closest to you.
“C-chan…” He bit your skin slightly harder. “Chris! Ah, Chris…!”
“F-fuck…” He muttered. “I… I can’t…” He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, now covered in small and red lovebites. “You smell so good.”
You pecked his forehead, trying to catch your breath, your hands stroking his soft hair.
“Not here, right?” You smiled, soothing, comprehensive. His heart softened.
He nodded, sighting against your neck. He let go of your legs, allowing you to stand back on your feet tenderly.
“I’m sorry….?” Chan mumbled shyly. You giggled, brushing it off.
You were about to say something, but then the gravel cracked under someone’s weight. One that wasn’t either of you.
He tensed up under your arms.
You sighed. “Move!” You ushered in a whisper.
He frowned, his eyes darting from you and from where the sound had come from.
“But you—”
“Chan!” You pushed him away, hiding him behind another wall, and quickly took your phone from the pocket of your jacket, zipping back up what Chris had lowered.
“Who’s in there?”
Chan’s breath haltered.
You had hid him just a wall more, meaning that if the security guard found any of you, chances were that he wouldn’t be caught. You would.
You both held your breathing, hands interlinked even if your bodies were as far away as they could to do so, your heartbeats quickening in sync.
And then, it was just silence for a minute, the gravel cracked below the security guard’s feet, and he left as sudden as he had arrived.
You legs felt like jelly, and you let your back fall down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor with a huff.
“You were going to get in trouble.” Chris muttered.
You looked at him from the floor. The moonlight highlightened his lean figure and charismatic features.
You nodded. “It wouldn’t be me who’d get in the worst of it.” You smiled softly.
He nodded with you.
“We should go before it gets too late.”
Just before heading back together to the elevators, you looked to the reception, and grinned softly.
The elevator back up felt more silent than usual. And for some reason that could speak and make him blush, Chan missed the sound of your voice.
“Good night, Chris.”
It wasn’t going to be a good night.
Not after that interruption, which not only scared the shit out of him, but also made him rethink everything he was doing with you.
Chan arrived back to his room. After half an hour of mindlessly staring at the nightsky through the window, someone knocked on the door.
Could it be you? Chris blushed at the thought.
He opened the door to find nothing. Then, he looked to the floor, and found a mug of hot chocolate and a small note.
may have taken a peek to your room card before. i had fun tonight! see you tomorrow? xoxo, your princess.
He grinned.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.
[♦️☆🔓☆♦️]
When he woke up the morning after, his mouth still tasted like chocolate.
There had been nothing that could wipe the silly grin on his face that day. Not his packed schedule, not the knowledge that they had to go back home and it would be his last night there, not the fact that Han had come into his room just to look for his missing sock —which, for obvious reasons, he never found there—, not the fact that Hyunjin was still bitter with him because of what he had named the ‘pretty girl disaster’ —which Chan intended to tell you just to see if you’d laugh like he had imagined.
His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of you.
Your flavoured chapstick, your sweet scent, the way you mumbled his name —his real one, that is—, how your eyes glowed under the moonlight, how his hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist.
He sighed happily for the upteenth time that day, coming out of the shower.
But then, Minho came in to his room.
“Hyung.” He started, and his low tone didn’t seem to bring good news.
Chan nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“I know I’m not really good at these things, but I think you should see this.”
The dancer handed him the phone, and Chan turned pale.
It was a picture taken from last night. Chan’s silhouette was fairly obvious, slightly pixelated and hidden by his beanie and his mask. And right in front of him, back facing the camera, was you, your hand holding his.
“So it is you. That’s what I thought,” Minho mumbled. “A random number sent it to Hyunjin. He saved the picture and blocked it, but we thought you should know.”
“Did they know it was me?” Chan stuttered.
The cat owner shook his head, and Chan was able to breathe normally again. “They thought it had been me with Jisung.”
It was there when Chan’s daydreaming faltered.
His thoughts started spinning, not knowing how or where to start.
Would you know about this?
What would you do?
“Hyung.” Minho sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
And Chan hadn’t been able to grasp that, but someone did.
The same someone who knocked on his door at night.
“Guys, you have your own cards.” Chan muttered, opening the door.
But it hadn’t been any of the guys.
“Hi.” You let out in a sight, panting.
Had you ran your way there?
“Hi.” He mumbled weakly.
“Can I…?” He opened the door for you, and quickly closed it back. He turned his back to you, his eyes wide and his heart going crazy.
“Chris.” You mumbled.
He turned around to face you.
“You asked me to stay last night and I went with you to the gardens.” You huffed. “But I want to stay here with you tonight.”
He blinked, passing a hand through his wavy hair. You were there. In front of him. Speaking. God, he had to concentrate.
“We’ll make a deal.” You breathed slowly, staring deeply into his eyes, yearning to know the secrets hidden behind them. “I’ll leave this here.”
You gently plopped your phone on the table near the door to his room. He was still standing there, as if frozen, pyjama pants on and only a bathrobe covering his lean and toned chest.
“A pretty man called Hyunjin came to me talking about some picture,” you started softly. “But yesterday didn’t happen so I’d ruin a man’s career.” His eyes followed how you raised your hands and smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“It’s off.” Your voice lowered, and he got slightly closer, as if wanting to hear you better. “The phone, I mean. Feel free to check it.”
Surprisingly, he just stared at it, then smiled cheekily, heading towards you.
Your eyebrows shot up and you felt deliciously small under his new-formed grin, and how his hands cradled your face.
He pecked your lips with a yearning sigh.
“I missed you.”
You blushed.
“You can have me all night.” Your smile made him feel butterflies on his stomach. “Just me and you.”
He kissed you again, longer this time.
His frame slowly caged you against the door, and he broke the kiss, stroking your cheeks. His body was pressed up against yours, his lips parted as he breathed softly, taking you in. He could feel heat running down his body just by the feeling of you back in his arms, and the only thought that he had clear is that he couldn't hold back anymore.
He needed to kiss you, again, and again, and again. He needed to figure out what you tasted like. He needed to have you. Your hands had gone back to where they had been the night before, and the way you stared at his lips threatened to make him fall to his knees.
His eyes were glued on your lips, and not long after, his mouth followed.
Chris’ heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew for a fact that he had never felt this way before. Never in his whole life. The more he tasted your lips, the kiss almost as passionate as your first one, the more you ruined him, claiming him as yours, making him addictied to the way you sighed and grinned as he moved your bodies to the bed, the hotter his body became.
He fell with you on the matress, and much to his surprise, you moved your bodies, sitting on his lap, taking a groan out of him.
“Such a beauty,” you mumbled, almost to yourself rather than him. “All for me, huh?” You smirked.
The whole world was hazy, the only thing that was clear was your body and your words. Just hearing your voice saying those words to him made him shiver, a shiver that he never experienced before.
He smirked too, and sighed when you untied his bathrobe, your hands roaming freely wherever you wanted to, stroking his chest, claiming him with kisses, the soft colour that they left behind, pink due to your lipstick, and the soft scratches of your nails, that made him bite his lip to keep his sounds hidden.
“Nuh-uh.” You tutted at him with a smile.
He snickered. “Oh, princess. Two can play that game.”
His hands pinned you down against the bed, his lips quickly going back to yours.
“You said I needed to keep my tongue to myself, and I promised that I would” He grinned, almost menacingly, lowering himself, trailing kisses down your body, discarding your underwear.
“I intend to break that promise.”
Maybe you and him would be difficult.
But he had asked you to stay, and you did. And he didn’t want to stop trying. Not yet.
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
~Kats, who did most of this in a hospital bed (‘m okay now dw) but fell asleep and didn’t publish it, lol. I LOVED THIS IDEA POOKIE TYSM !!
2K notes · View notes
ridingthatd · 4 months
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❥ YANDERE MEGUMI
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-ˏ͛⑅ megumixfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, yandere, possessive, obsession, masturbation, spit kink ⑅ˏ͛-
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here you were, a beautiful little thing- his beautiful little thing. walking out of the minka, that was just near his room. he was so lucky- the luckiest person to exist in this household to be able to sleep a foot away from where you sleep. to be able to breath the same air that you breath. to be able to admire you walking out and into your room every. single. day.
you were the daughter of the empress. the empress of this household. megumi blood run cold as he thinks about your father- no he doesn't not deserve to be called your father. no no you were a goddess that heaven gave him. that heaven made just for him.
megumis smiles, his heart beating out of his chest. his heart beating- calling your name. each beat his heart took. each breath he breathed. was all chanting your name- it was all for you.
his smile widen as he stares at the painting he's drawing. one of his pale skilled hand was placed on the brush, moving it swiftly as he trace your figure- tracing what he memorized. every. single. detail. from the little mole on your left plumpy ass cheek, to the pinkish hard nipples of yours.
while his other hand was filled with his thick cock. wetness dripping down his hand as it move slow yet hard. squeezing the tip of his cock as he trace the line of your clit. eyes half-lidded. his cock was throbbing, sloppy between his fingers.
he lets out whimper after whimper as his hand go faster on his twitching cock. holding back his orgasm- holding it back to savor the moment. his thighs shake as he dips the paintbrush he was using into a cup of water. rinsing the paint away, before he gently place it on the clit of his red cock. he whines as he brush the paintbrush against his leaking cock. making sure the precum that was leaking soak the paintbrush.
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his cock was so sensitive, so close to spilling, ragging red ready to spurt. but he held back swiping his cum soaked brush into your drawn nipples- he stroke his cock faster. into your mouth- he stroke harder. and finally into your trimmed pussy- his mouth half open, letting out a shaky breath.
"ah- ah- ah!" and he gush out his seeds, hot white cum kept streaming out of his thick cock. it kept coming out non-stop, his whole body shaked as he didn't stop stroking his sensitive cock, squeezing every single last drop.
"fuck- no! no! that's not enough" he cries out, tears trailing down his heated face. he tug harshly on his black locks, shaking from anger. shaking from the intense orgasm he had. glancing down at his palette it was filled with his white cum, mixing with the paint. it was a lot, a lot of warm cum but it wasn't enough- he needed to fill it. he needed to fill you.
his gaze moves to the drawing- the drawing he drew of you. how perfect it was. how perfect it was just like the other paintings he made of you were. the walls of his room was surrounded with painting- naked paintings of you. every painting was you in a different position.
bend over, your full round ass was shoved up while you glance back smiling as his cum drips down your ass. laying down your soft boobs were spilled out of your kimono, nipples painted with his white liquid. on your knees, tongue out filled with the his seeds that he spilled.
but this time he failed- he didn't spill enough of his cum- of his seed. it wasn't enough to fill your warm pussy. he needed more a lot more.
"more- hic she needs to be filled more!" he hiccup through his tears, smashing the drawing board into the floor.
then something clicks into his mind as he stare at the drawing. your pretty little pussy- the inside of your warm little pussy, he hasn't got a good look of it yet. YES! this is why, he smiles. running his hands down his face. this is why he failed, he needs to see- no he needs to fuck your warm cunt.
he needs to feel it around him, get a taste, get a feel of your warm skin. after all you were his- you were meant to be his. he had enough of just lurking around while you shower in the hot spring. while you sleep peacefully in the dark night. he had enough of just looking but not touching, just imagining but not experiencing.
you were his! you were his! he paced around his room, he needed to have you. he needed to place his fat cock where it belonged. he glace at the thrown drawing before he runs towards it, clenching it to his face.
"I'm sorry! I know your poor little pussy needs me" he whimpers, staring at the paper in his hand. the way you were drawn. laying down, pussy spread, looking at him- ready for his throbbing cock.
he slowly brings the paper to his mouth, rubbing his tongue on your drawn pussy. moaning as he pumps his already hard cock. drool spilling down his lips. his cock was on fire- it hurted. it hurted so good, the burning feeling was to good.
he had to relieve the burn with hard strokes on his hardened shaft, slicked with his own cum rather than your pussy- fucking the tight grip of his fist with his mouth hanging open. not caring about the way his spit was gushing everywhere. he rolled his fist around the reddened tip to smooth the wetness along his length, thin veins pulsing for the contact of a wet cunt only to settle for his hand that could never mimic the suction of your pussy. leak beads of cum from his tip, heat coursing through his veins.
he's going to have you.
wet sloppy strokes fill the air of your room. you were sleeping fondly. megumi groans as your soft breath hits his hard cock that he was stroking up your sleeping face.
here he was standing hands on his cock shamesly beating it near your face. his other hand was on his mouth- muffling his whines and whimpers as his eyes roll behind his skull everytime your hot breath hits his red sensitive tip.
" mhm-! ngh" he whine out through his hand as he glance at the way his wetness was dropping on your face, so turned on by the sight as he sloppily stroke his cock- so close so close.
closing his eyes tightly, his abs clenching indicating hes gonna cum any moment, as soon he open his eyes- making eye contact with your wide open ones. he squirts, shoots of cum gush out of his ragging cock, the veins on it popping, his whimpers were no longer muffled by his hand.
"ah- im sorry-" he whines out, crying because he couldn't control his dick that was still shooting strips of hot cum on your face, dripping down your lips- he can't no more, it was to much.
"I can't- im sorry! im sorry!" his cums shoots one last time, before his body gives out and he lands on top of you. trembling, shaking.
matching the way you were also trembling and shaking- what just happened? megumi fushiguro? he was a duke- your art teacher. you thought maybe you were dreaming but the hot wetness of his cum on your face seems to be to real.
megumis hands trembles as he clenchs his fist into your bed sheets, his shoulder shakes as he laughs- laughs hysterically from happiness.
you stiffen, this sight of megumi you have never seen before- he was a composed nobel man, you would never think he was a pervert- a pervert who just spilled his seeds on you with no shame.
his eyes peaks out of your blanket, staring at you- watching your every move. watching what you're going to do.
yet you don't move, holding your breath. praying to the goddess that it was just a dream. that what's happening isn't true. but it was very much true, the talented nobel whom you admire lays next to you- staring at you like you're a prey. like you're something he wanna feast on. like you're seconds away from losing your life.
"I won't hurt you, my lady" megumi whispers as his hands slowly make their way toward your face causing you to flinch. you remine silent because you know your words had a huge impact on what's megumi is going to do.
while your mind runs a mile, megumi was just in awe. staring at your cum covered face- covered with his cum, it only seems to make his heart flutter and his cock throb. you didn't scream or try to run away.
megumi knew it, you guys were meant to be! he smiles from ear to ear at you, as he leans in just to stick his warm wet tongue out and lick his own cum out of yours face- it was filthy, dirty but he liked- no he craved it. the way your soft skin felt under his sloppy messy tongue, he craved the taste of your skin.
you couldn't help the moan that slipped past your lips, as you feel him gently suck on your lips- his tongue was so greedy, licking every corner of your lips, before he shoves it deep inside of your throat.
stroking his tongue against yours, feeling your spit mix together- it's like you're being drowned with his spit. you gasp as you feel him taking your tongue into his mouth and sucking it. you feel heat run through you. you couldn't ignore the wetness between your thighs anymore.
maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if- you whimper as he break the kiss, staring at you with hungry eyes. hungry eyes that are going to devour you any moment.
"spit in my mouth" he pathetically whispers flipping you so you're on top of him- not waiting for your answer, his large hands making there way under your night grown gripping your ass hard.
you look at his pleading eyes before you lean in and let the string of warm spit land inside of his opened mouth. his eyes roll back as he gets the taste of your spit.
"mhm-!" he groans, holding your ass harder before you feel something warm gush on your thighs, and it's your time to moan- you were so turned on. so turned on by the fact he just spurt his seeds from having a taste of your spit.
"em sorry- em sorry!" he cries out like last time clearly ashamed, tear filling his eyes. you couldn't help but coo at him, gently grabbing his head and placing it on your shoulder, shushing his sobs.
once his sobs were silent, you thought maybe he fell asleep but you were so wrong. you gasp as you feel your panties being turn roughly off you. before you were turned around back facing his chest.
"need to breed you" he whispers as if it's something known. as if it's something he had the very right to do.
"i need to sleep" you softly mutters out, trying to be reasonable with him. "it's okay, go to sleep, my darling" his warm voice was directly in your ear, peaking his tongue out, lick the sensitive insides of your ear.
"I'll do the work" he smirks, lining his huge cock against your folds before slowly yet painfully slipping in. he shushs your pained whispers, with his own whimpers.
his cock glides in, filling every inch of you. every inch of your warm insides. he couldn't help but laugh, happiness pouring through him.
"see I'm right here" he groans into your ear, as he squeeze your belly- he was indeed deep inside of you, you can feel it all- the way he hits your womb every time he thrusts.
"shh go to sleep" he coo at you as he warp his arms around your belly, "keep you warm with my cock tonight, tomorrow we mate" he mutters out sleepy. chanting it like a promise.
and he did keep his promise.
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚to be continued? ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚
: ̗̀➛ if you're into gojo/geto fics click 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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pandoraslxna · 4 months
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❄️ Kinkmas — 12. Kuru Play ❄️
Neteyam x human reader
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⋆。° ✮ Minors dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: sub!Neteyam, basically dry humping, alien biology
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"Can I touch it?"
Neteyam blinks, once, twice, and he doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath for a good minute or so.
Touch it?
He sits up a little from where he previously laid on top you, with both of his arms next to your head as he had busied himself with your throat, kissing and sucking on your skin until it turned a pretty shade of purple. Letting you get into a sitting position as well, he rises both of his hairless brows in surprise.
You were staring at his hair, but something told him it wasn’t his hairstyle or the pretty beads in his braids that caught your attention. It was the one, thick braid that lazily hung over his shoulder.
"… my kuru?"
You nod and Neteyam‘s heart stutters in his chest.
It’s not meant for touching, he wants to say, but can’t bring himself to speak. It’s just so… it’s so intimate. But then again, it’s not like he hasn’t touched every inch of your body before, hasn’t had you under him, on top of him, had his hands and occasionally even his tongue travel up and down your skin, had you in every way possible. What difference would it make to allow you this? To make you the first to touch his kuru?
Yes, it’s intimate, sacred even, but if there is one person he would want to share this with, it’s you. So he reaches for his painstakingly braided kuru and holds it up for you to see.
Carefully, your hands reach out to touch it and even though he’s a little taken aback by your sudden curiosity, Neteyam let’s you. A pleasant chill runs down his back as you gently feel the braid up and down in awe, seemingly impressed with how tidily his hair is braided. Your hands glide over it, starting from the base of his skull, until you reach the end of it. Turning it from side to side in your hand, the soft hair at the end of his braid part and reveal the little, pink tendrils, moving unwillingly, but eager, as if they’re reaching out to you.
Inhaling a shaky breath to calm himself, Neteyam continues to let you explore him freely, leaning back on his palms to watch you observe. But curious as you were, exploring with your eyes only, seemingly wasn’t enough after just a short while. With wide eyes he watches as your other hand moves, inching closer to touch the tendrils and every hair on his body raises by the sheer sight of it.
"P-Please", Neteyam whispers, "Please be careful."
"Relax, Teyam", you speak softly, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Let me take care of you, yes? You let me know if it’s too much and I’ll stop."
"Yeah, o-okay", he exclaims breathlessly, nodding.
There was a faint tingling sensation, a stirring of warmth between his thighs where his cock was still so painfully hard from grinding against you earlier. His tail lashes in the air restlessly, his heart racing and Neteyam suddenly sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, when the pinkish tendrils wrap themselves around one of your delicate fingers.
A deep, wanton moan tumbles from his parted lips and Neteyams whole body tensed before he squeezed his eyes shut. A shiver runs through him and his breathing increased at the unfamiliar sensation.
"Can you feel that?", you ask softly, shuffling even closer on your knees, until you’re settled comfortable, straddling his muscular thigh.
"Yes, i‘m, I‘m– oh, fuck", he wheezes, chest raising and failing in frantic pants as he struggles and fails to get the words out.
Your curious gaze flicks from his kuru to his face, contorted in pleasure, and then to the way his loincloth bulges from restraining his raging boner, and he barely misses the mischievous smile tugging on your beautiful lips.
Meanwhile your fingers continue to play with the extensions of his nervous system, and Neteyam tries his absolute most to keep all these noises down that arose from deep in his chest.
"I‘m not hurting you, am I?", you ask innocently, resting your cheek against his shoulder so you could both watch you play with him.
"N-No, no it doesn’t hurt", another moan slips out, "Feels g-good."
It was strange, but so good. Like a tingling sensation in his brain, similar to getting tickled with a feather, with muscles twitching on their own accord, having no control over the way his body reacts to the sensation. It felt foreign, but in the best way possible. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and he couldn’t help the way his cock throbbed under his loincloth, greedy to be touched as well.
Watching and feeling the way the thin tendrils of his kuru moved into the embrace of your soft hands felt like someone was pouring warm syrup straight into his brain. Neteyam could feel how his pupils dilated further with every passing second, until they were almost fully black. A low, breathy sound, like a whimper, escapes him as the unfamiliar feeling continued to spread through his whole body the more you played with him like this.
Neteyams breathing wasn’t just heavy, he was panting now, breathless from pleasure. Letting his head fall back, he squeezed his eyes shut again to try and calm himself, but the heat that had been spreading in his core slowly grew hotter and hotter, until it was almost impossible for him to ignore. He doesn’t even realize how even more whimpers and moans begin to fall from his parted lips freely, too busy to keep his focus on this strange feeling that made his heart race and his cock twitch vividly.
"Does it feel that good, hm?", you purr, licking your lips at the sight of him turning into a moaning mess over the barest of touches. Neteyam nods, fast and desperate, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth.
His hips begin to buck up in uncontrollable thrusts and he grunts softly, more pleasure pulsing through his body and then you softly blow warm air across his kuru and give a little kiss to the tendrils wrapped around your finger and—
"Shit", he curses and you watch his abs flex as you lift your finger a little and give a very gentle pull to the little tendrils, "Great mother– oh fuck, fuck. I- I think I’m gonna–"
Neteyams orgasm damn-near kills him.
The sheer intensity of pleasure has tears pearling on his lashes and black dots creeping in at the corners of his vision. Rhythmic jolt of his hips make spurts of cum seep through the fabric of his loincloth as he ruts into the air, his mouth hanging slack as he moans loud and wanton.
Your other hand glides over his braid in a stroking motion, while you press loving little kisses to his jaw as he rides out his orgasm. "There you go, Teyam", you coo softly into his ear, "That’s it, let it all out. God, that must’ve felt so good, hm? Look at the mess you’ve made."
Your filthy praises and soothing words make him shake with need, more cum soaking his loincloth and the wet, warm fabric begins to rub against his tip in the best way possible. Combined with the gentle strokes of your hands on his braid and the buzzing feeling at the end of his nervous system, it only takes a couple of seconds for him to start squirming. Thankfully, you let up from playing with his kuru after a moment.
Arms shaky, Neteyam collapsed onto his back then, wheezing softly as he mutters a quiet, "holy shit…", to which you grinned wickedly and far too pleased with yourself.
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inkskinned · 5 months
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the body is such a strange and vapid creature. i am eating soup with noodles that i cooked in a microwave. i don't know how microwaves work, only that most of my meals come from her yellow mouth. i put mine on the fridge; i have to stand on tip toes to take the bowl out, balancing it on fingertips.
i have to eat soup because i'm coughing up blood.
when you have been raised wrong, conditions of alarm are offset. which is to say that three weeks ago, i had a panic attack because i thought i saw him the liquor store. i collapsed into a heap, ready to sob into multicolored gin bottles. it was just someone who looked a lot like him, working a shitty 9-5. the poor man. what must it be like, to have someone go pale at your profile.
i spoke too loudly during a zoom meeting, and nobody answered immediately. the shame of that scoured my entire ribcage clean. i hated the experience so much i wrote it down in my notes: a reminder not to be so fucking annoying!
but the conditions of alarm are met at the moment. i am well-and-truly ill, the blood in my hand and on the pavement. at this moment in dr. house episodes i would be swaying, and then i'd collapse delicately and awaken in a crisp hospital bed. instead my dog bites my hand in excitement. now there is blood on his muzzle.
i am diabolically, almost robotically calm about it. i laugh about it, actually. i am feeling positively waifish. i am one nightgown away from holding an oil lamp up and saying milord? are thee turnin' in for the night? new blood is pinkish, almost feminine in her brightness, a tease into the tissue.
i haven't ever cried at a funeral. i didn't know you were actually allowed to. it felt like new blood - a way of making it about me, when my job is to flatter the shadows and stay tucked out of the way. i am always doing something for someone else. i am always earning my keep. i am always loveable, because i will do what it takes to make you able to love me.
here are the personal things i have been worried about in the last three weeks: if the spider i put outside was now able to restart her life. if an hour and a half every day is enough walking for a greyhound. if i drink too much coffee. if all my friends secretly hate me. if i'm a bad friend and i should be sad about it. what happens after this next goalpost? what if i'm deeply and inherently boring?
i cough up blood. my mouth tastes like iron gummies. i am not worried about this. my body is a seahorse. my body is an ocean wave. i can detach from it, be outside of it - just float away.
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pinkishpositive · 2 months
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tomorrcwz · 2 months
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✰ POSITIONS, F1 DILFS
[ starring ] sebastian vettel, kimi räikkönen, fernando alonso, jenson button, lewis hamilton, kevinmagnussen
[ tw ] fem!reader, smut (+18), dom!drivers, mention of sex toys and tapes, dirty talking, fem and male oral receiving (+ choking on dick)
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. minors do not read .
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sebastian enjoys sitting back to watch you play with yourself, be it your dainty fingers buried deep inside your pussy and coated in your juices, or the dildo, the copy of his cock, he had gifted you months ago when he was away; the sight of the grip your greedy pussy has on the plastic phallus and your body writhing in the sheets, whorish moaning his name to pled for relief, thighten his trousers but rather than bouncing you, feeling your tight little satch, he leans forward, breath fawning onto your wet tights, resulting in goosebumps.
you'd cry out silently, legs shaking as you ram the toy faster into your warmth. "what did you say, liebe? (love) care to repeat?", the man would ask, his rough hands grabbing your thick tights. "want my big dick inside you? fuck you till you can't remember your name and see stars no more, huh?", he'd taunt you with a massive smirk on his pinkish lips. "that what you would like, don't you, my dirty girl?"
kimi prefers on being hands on, having you knee in front of him to suck him off. tears have already escaped your eye and stained your hallowed cheeks, while his right hand sits at the back of your head, hair kept in a ponytail to manage the speed and the desired depth. your glossy eyes holding contact with his lustfilled gaze and the choking sounds as well as the moans that send off vibrations around his dick, makes him pull your face against his pelvic bone to deep throat him. the tightness of your wet mouth let's his cock throb slightly, the taste of salty pre cum hits your tongue once again.
slowly, kimi would face fuck you, forcing your lips to touch his pelvic whenever he pulls your head towards him, forcing your jaw to go slack and take his long cock all the way as saliva runs out of the corners of your stretched mouth, trailing down your tits and eventually hitting the carpet. "you love being my good girl, eh? then choke on it."
nando loves to grab your plump ass whilst hugging you whenever it is in public or in the privacy of a room — if his action is made in the later situation, the innocence of his touch quickly turns into nibbling playfully on your ear and neck, leaving small marks to show his claim of you. his finger would dip inside your clothing to touch your already wet pussy, gently brushing past the outer lips to rub your clit, which will transform you into mush against his body. wanting to eat you out, nando would lay you down on the bed if there is one, probing pillows under your hips to get an easy access to your wetness. he's godsend, festing on your pussy as it would be his last time, resulting in leaving you a breathless moaning puddle of a mess. "please don't stop, papi."
jenson would be the guy who'd twirl, pull and nib on your stiff nibbles as you stroke his growing dick whilst watching a sex tape of yourselves to get in the right zone. in his opinion its one of the easiest ways to set the mood; watching a homemade video of him plowing inside you from behind against a hotel wall or having you cuffed on the bedframe, fucking your little hole hard as you cum over and over again — he'll feel your breath stock whenever his recorded self hits your g-spot or lands a spank on your brightly coloured ass, and the slick of your snatch drips on his leg, that's between yours, rubbing over your cunt.
"in another life, you'd be a pornstar, darling", jense would whisper in your ear as he moves above you, running the fat leaking head of his cock against your awaiting pussy.
lewis would have you in sixty-nine, tongue tracing the rim of your snatched hole as you kitten-lick off the precum of his massive dick and nibble softly on a bold vein, chasing a groan out of the fit male. as soon as you reach past the half, he'll push his cock upwards, causing you to choke on his dick — his less dominating hand keeps your head down as his other hand sinks two fingers at the same time inside you roughly, sending you over the edge, a process he continues over again till you tap his thight two times.
"fucked you good, huh?"
kevin likes nothing more than seeing you completely relaxed and giggling during a session of soft, romantic sex; it's his favourite way to return to a relaxed state of mind after a race and running behind his small children. he'll have you ride him though he'd control the pace while pressing your face against his neck to feel you sucking kisses against it. whenever kevin would push hard upwards inside you, he'd hear you purr like a catita or moan, rambling about how he should just throw you down and fuck you, but this will just result in his next pushes slower, teasing you to show you who's the "boss".
POLY/MULTI DRIVERS — SINGULAR DRIVERS
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risuola · 6 months
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▶ CATORU — stealing Suguru's clothes just feels natural, they're comfy and cozy and they smell like him, but thing is - his hoodies are black... and Satoru's hair is white.
contents: fluff; college!au, roommates, polyamorous relationship — 1k words
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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“Geez, you really need to brush that cat out,” your best friend commented, plucking a white hair off your black hoodie once you dropped down onto the couch next to her placing the wine glasses, totally not regular glasses, and a bottle on the table. You invited her for the first time after you moved into the new apartment. It was a celebration of your new place, successfully passed exams and just a nice opportunity to catch up on life.
“Cat?” You looked at her; confusion apparent in your eyes and she pointed at the hairs in her fingers, few short, snow-white strands that she collected from you and surroundings. It wasn’t unusual – you had a habit of stealing Suguru’s clothes (and they are usually black), and Gojo has a habit of nuzzling into you, demanding head scratches so it’s only natural that his white hairs stick to you and are quite visible. “Ah, that cat. Yeah, I really need to brush him out. Or maybe I’ll just shave him, I don’t know yet.”
The thought made you giddy inside, it really cracked you up. Before that, you never realized that your friend had no idea what kind of relationship you are in. You never hid it from her, you openly told her about the three of you doing things together, but somehow, the possibility of you sharing your life with Suguru and Satoru at the same time flew over her head. You also are quite openly affectionate with both of your boys, but it’s possible that once your friend saw you kissing Geto, she automatically categorized your interactions with Gojo as purely friendly. You were not even sure if she ever had a chance to see you with your white-haired princess.
“It’s cute you and Geto took a white kitten. It’s because of Gojo, right?” She smiled cutely, throwing the hairs away as you poured her some of the cheap prosecco.
“Yeah, the kitten is definitely reminding us of Satoru.” You laughed softly, taking your own glass to your lips. “Our little Catoru.”
“Awww, that’s adorable,” she squealed, savoring the taste of pinkish liquid. “How is he dealing with it, by the way?”
“Dealing with what?”
“You know, how’s Gojo dealing with the fact you stole his best friend? I was wondering, is he okay with you being and living with Suguru? They are pretty much joined at the hip.” She was curious, genuinely, and you can tell she really has no clue, so you decided to play along.
“I mean, Satoru is doing great, you don’t need to worry.”
“’ts good,” your bestie exhaled with some kind of relief, and you couldn’t shake off the amusement off your shoulders. You wondered how she would react to the revelation of your polyamorous relationship. Would she be surprised? In your eyes, it was only natural to accept both Satoru and Suguru into your life, the boys are inseparable, you couldn’t date one without dating the other. That was just the way it is, the packaged deal, the law of nature if you will. “Is your boyfriend home?”
“Sugu? He has martial arts training today. Will be back later. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re my guest,” you reassured her and the conversation went smoothly from that point. You talked a little about everything, about college, about teachers and recent exams, about love life and your recent dates.
“Is Gojo always third-wheeling you two?” She asked when you were telling her about your last movie night. The one that got all three of you deadly backpain afterwards because you all fell asleep on the couch in a position that even got Suguru and his super trained, stretched and fit body suffering. It’s better not to recall how you and Satoru felt.
“Sometimes I feel like I am third-wheeling them,” you laughed, “but yea, we’re actually–“
“Can I see the cat?” Your friend cut you off, suddenly all excited. “God, I completely forgot about him, can I see that fluffball?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure the cat is sleeping and you know, that fluffball gets grumpy when woken up.”
“Pleeeaaaase, I promise, I won’t wake it up. I just want to see the little Catoru, he must be adorable.”
With an exhale you decided to give in. You knew Satoru had a rough night, he got back home in the morning after a visit at his parents’ house and you know his family can be pretty distressing. Now he’s probably sleeping it off, but just a quick visit shouldn’t hurt. With that thought you took your friend to your bedroom.
“Just please, don’t scream, okay? He’s dead tired.” You half-whispered, before opening the doors. She nodded and you peeked inside, just to make sure the cat wasn’t sprawled naked on the bed or something and once sure that it’s safe, you walked in, carefully placing your steps to make as little noise as possible.
Satoru was sleeping, tightly cocooned in blankets with only his head visible from the nose up. He was really worn out, you could tell by the way he was breathing, so deeply and heavily what only happened when he was exhausted. You crouched next to the bed, gently running your fingers through his hair and he purred something, automatically leaning into your touch. Satoru could be at his death bed and would still search for your warmth.
“Do you need something?” You asked quietly, brushing little circles onto his scalp. He made some kind of noise that sounded a little like a no, and you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “If you do, just call me, baby, I’ll be next door.”
Satoru purposefully uncovered the lower half of his face so you could give him a peck, and once he got that, he turned back to his cocoon. You whispered him a little love you, got up and left, leading your visibly stoked friend back to the living room. She was shocked, but at the same time it looked like a realization was hitting her hard and you saw in real time how her expression was changing.
“That was the cat?” She whisper-screamed.
“Yup.”
“So you and Geto and Gojo—?"
“Yup.”
“Like, all three of you?”
“Yes,” you chuckled, pouring her more wine. “I actually had no idea that you don’t know. I thought we’re quite obvious.”
“Now as I think about it, you kinda were… I’m gonna need more wine.”
“I’ll text Suguru.”
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taglist: @gojos-thot-patrol-main , @chuluoyi
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Rotting Divinity.
Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).
Word Count: 2.9k.
TW: Reader Is Referred To As A Shrine Maiden But Gender Neutral, Set A Few Years After Dottore Starts Experimenting On Scaramouche, Unhealthy Relationships, Obsessive Behavior, Kidnapping, Themes of Chronic Illness, and Mentions of Human Experimentation.
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Scaramouche opened his eyes as the sun set, casting the sky a dull pinkish blue. You were standing above him, a straw basket on your hip and a frown tugging on the corners of your lips.
He let a groan as he hauled himself into a more dignified position, palms planted in the raw dirt and dried grass caught in his hair. One glance was spared to establish that he was no longer in the Doctor’s cramped observation room, all cold stone walls and porcelain tables with leather straps stapled into each corner, before his attention settled on you. “Mortal,” he barked, speaking loudly enough to hear himself over the pain still buzzing in his skull. “Which island is this?”
“Yashiori, near Serpent’s Head,” you muttered, disappointment heavy in your tone. When he clicked his tongue, you went on, your frown deepening. “You ruined my herb garden.”
Had he? He couldn’t remember anything after the Doctor worked those long, tapered needles underneath the skin of his forearms; after an iron mask was forced over his mouth and nose and he began to think his body may tear itself apart before that sadist had the chance to. He wasn’t supposed to be in Serpent’s Head. He wasn’t supposed to be on Yashiro at all. He hadn’t meant to be here, and yet, he’d be thrown in a cage of iron bars and subjected to another round of testing as soon as he trudged back to that dungeon of a facility. Thinking about the feeling of thick, pulsing electricity coursing through his hollow limbs was enough to send a familiar bolt of agony down the length of his spine. It was little more than a phantom, a shadow of the torture it would take to unlock his truepotential, but it was enough to leave him curling into himself involuntarily, glaring at the soil with a hollow type of malice.
He would’ve recovered in a second – less than a second, a moment, a breath – if you hadn’t fallen to your knees at his side, cooing as you pressed the back of your hand into his forehead. “Are you hurt?” If he’d tried to answer, his response would’ve been lost to your fussing, the way you hummed and shook your head as you hauled him to his feet. “Body aches? Migraines? Whatever it is—” An arm was drawn over your shoulders, his weight forcibly rested on you. “—I’m sure I have something for it inside. A place for you to rest, too – however you got here, the journey had to be burdensome.”
He considered protesting. Even in the state he’d been reduced to, it would’ve taken nothing to pry himself away from you, to shatter your ankles underneath his heel and leave you begging for the mercy of the creature you’d tried to pity. He could’ve penned a letter to the Doctor as you bled out in the soil of your own garden, recovered his strength as he took your body apart and fed your remains, piece by piece, to whatever scavengers would have you. He could’ve, if he’d wanted to. He could’ve, but then, he saw what you were wearing.
The sleeves of your kosode were rolled neatly to the elbow, the hems of your pleaded hakama dusted with dirt and grass stains. Unlike the maidens of Watatsumi and the Grand Narukami Shrine, you wore neither red nor blue, but white. Pure, never-ending white.
Scaramouche went limp in your hold, his eyes falling shut as you let out a surprised laugh, doing your best to accommodate his now-dead weight. He could kill you tomorrow, he figured. It was already dusk, and while he didn’t mind traveling at night, he knew the Doctor wouldn’t begin to wonder where he was until the sun rose tomorrow morning. He wasn’t a dog, eager to crawl home and prove his obedience. He could wait until he was called for.
At least, by then, your worrying might’ve done something to dull the burn of the electricity underneath his skin.
~
“So, you’re telling me that this is a waste of time.”
You ignored him with a light hum, a quick movement of your tasseled gohei. Normally, daily rites were something to be performed quickly and efficiently before the unlucky shrine maiden responsible for carrying them out returned to scrubbing floorboards and disturbing fortunes, but in a life as slow as yours, with so little to occupy the many hours of your countless days, even repetitive tasks such as this were given an unnecessarily artistic flourish. Scaramouche might’ve called it indulgent, if he ever decided to be so kind to you.
Currently, you were dancing in front of a dilapidated shrine at the base of the snake’s skull; the paint mostly chipped away and the wood close to rotting. You’d explained, four days after he first allowed you to haul him into your ancient cabin, that you would be responsible for rebuilding it once it inevitably collapsed, an honor only bestowed upon caretakers every few centuries, and he’d told you that you ought to save yourself a few decades and tear it down that day, but you’d only laughed. Most things he said made you laugh.
He'd noticed early on that you were of a weak constitution. Dark bags circled under your eyes despite how often and how deeply you slept, and you seemed unable to carry anything heavier than what could fit in one of your woven baskets. There should’ve been another shrine keeper, if not several. And, if there could only be one, then it shouldn’t have been you.
Still, Scaramouche was glad that you had been chosen, even if you were a bad fit for the position. If it’d been anyone else, he would’ve had to get rid of them days ago, and he was thankful to be spared the effort.
“It’s not,” you said, consciously clipping his choice of words. You finished your rite with a deep bow, then turned to Scaramouche. “Shows of dedication make him happy.”
“He being…” His gaze drifted upward, to the fanged skull. Orobashi no Mikoto – the beast’s name provided by some nameless well of knowledge that seemed to linger in the space between the back of his throat and the pit of his chest. Consciously, the only title Scaramouche had ever thought to put to the serpent was that of ‘festering remains’. “…the fucking corpse?”
“If you keep using that kind of language, you might have to start sleeping outside.” You took up the basket of lavender melons you’d (admittedly, unwisely) left in his care, snatching it away before he could add to the small pile of black seeds stacked on his opposite side. Your hastiness left one of the rounder melons toppling over the well-worn edge, though, and he caught it with a single hand, grinning as he dug his teeth into the ripe flesh and claimed it for himself. You rolled your eyes, but quickly occupied yourself with clearing away yesterday’s fruit from the shrine. “It’s not complicated. We keep him happy, hold our rites and make our sacrifices, and he ensures that my crops grow quickly and the village prospers.” A pause, a smile thrown carelessly over your shoulder. You smiled as easily as you laughed, something that irritated Scaramouche to no end. “If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be recovering half as quickly as you are.”
Right. It was too easy to forget that there was a pretense to his time with you; that he was supposed to be some wayward, ailing traveler with a mysterious condition your charms and cures could only keep at bay. He wasn’t lying to you. All he did was lie back and let you fuss over his nonexistent pulse, the bloodless pallor of his skin, the way his temperature never seemed to rise above that of damp clay. He wasn’t like the Doctor – scheming and underhanded, prone to leading his victims in circles before gifting them with the mercy of a slow death – or the priestess he could only vaguely remember from his first days, all dark eyes and whispers of a merciful death. You liked doting on him, and he didn’t mind keeping his mouth shut.
“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” He dug his teeth into the lavender melon as you gathered your things, sugary juice turning his lips tacky as he went on. “I’ve always been hard to kill.”
You came to stand above him, your smile small and eyes vaguely narrowed. “If you’re feeling that strong,” you started, holding your now-emptied basket in front of you. “Then you shouldn’t mind weeding the garden and fetching water, this afternoon.”
It only took him a moment to think to protest, but you were already gone, stumbling down the mountainside as he hastily pushed himself to his feet. He called your name, but he could already hear your voice – rising above his in one of your obnoxiously repetitive hymns and drowning him out as he chased after you.
~
The villagers welcomed you as sheep welcomed field dogs; from a distance.
Scaramouche trailed behind you as you plodded through the humble village, humming and clutching your basket close to your chest, fiddling nervously with the pure-white material of your sleeves. The crowd parted around you, twin walls of watchful eyes and hushed voices forming well-ahead of your path and collapsing as you strode past them, either unable or unwilling to acknowledge the thick silence that seemed to hang over you like a shroud. Occasionally, you’d stop at a stall or a doorway, handing off bundles of wrapped herbs to gloved and trembling hands, and less often, you’d send him a smile over your shoulder, your tired eyes wrinkling at the corners, as if apologizing that he had to come along for such a dull errand. That was how you described it, when he asked where you went off to every few days. ‘Just a quick errand,’ you’d said, as you tried to convince him to stay behind yet again. When he cited your poor health and his growing concern that he’d find you dead in that garden of yours one day, you didn’t waver. ‘You’ll only be bored if you come. The villagers aren’t very friendly.’
Scaramouche decided, mostly on a whim, that he would burn down this village before he returned to the Doctor. If he had time.
He moved to rush forward, to place himself at your side, but a hand shot out of a narrow alleyway and caught him by the wrist. It was a middle-aged blacksmith, judging by the ash smeared across his cheeks, the thick apron hanging from his neck. Scaramouche was quick to pull out of his filthy grasp, but he spoke regardless, his voice low and rough. “Mind your distance, boy.” A glance towards you, a deep sneer. “Don’t you know who that is?”
Scaramouche glanced over him, fighting the urge to scoff. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”
“That’s no healer, that’s the shrine maiden.” He said it as if he’d caught Scaramouche attempting to throw himself into a rifthound’s mouth. “They cultivate the serpent’s remains. You’ll be dead in a week if you—”
This time, Scaramouche was the one to reach out, his hand wrapping around the blacksmith’s neck. By instinct, a bolt of pure, searing electro shot from his palm into the man’s neck, leaving him limp and convulsing in Scaramouche’s hold. Scaramouche released him as the last of the aftershocks faded, watching him collapse to the ground before planting his heel on the man’s diaphragm, prepared to shift his weight and crush whatever laid below his foot should the blacksmith say something to displease him.
“I’ll ask again,” he said, slowly, ozone thick in the air. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”
~
Scaramouche returned to your cabin closer to sunrise than sunset. Somewhere, back in the village that he would see reduced to embers if it was his last act on the face of Teyvat, the charred remains of a blacksmith smoldered at the bottom of a stone well, and he opened the door to your ramshackle home with enough force to tear the rotted piece of wood from its hinges.
You were kneeling beside your work table, grinding dried lavender petals into a fine powder. He closed the space between you in a breath, knocked the pestle from your hand in another, then collapsed beside you. “You’re going to die?”
You eyed the spilled lavender wearily. “Even the archons will fall, eventually.”
He let out a ragged sob, burying his face in the dip of your shoulder. You allowed him to, your arms coming up to wrap loosely around him. You’d always been weak, but now, you seemed as feeble as a morning gale.
He was unable to speak, so you took up the mantle, tracing idle patterns into the base of his spine as you went on. “I know what they tell newcomers, about dead gods and their rot, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. He gifts us with herbs to cure our sick and soothe our elders and in return, someone sacrifices a few years. The villagers might not be able to linger, but they make sure I’m taken care of.” He felt you smile, heard you laugh. “So long as I get to help people, I don’t mind making sacrifices.”
“Other people don’t matter.” It took him longer than he cared to admit to pry himself away from you, to straighten his back and drag a deep breath into his aching lungs. He was thankful, not for the first time, that he couldn’t cry. You would only think him irrational if he fell apart so visibly. “How long do you have?”
Your head lulled to the side, your attention drifting to some indistinguishable point on the far wall. “Only the gods can say what fate has—”
“How long?”
“…another year.” Your tone carried a sort of detached acceptance, as if you couldn’t summon the energy to care. “Maybe two. The last caretaker was very fortunate – he survived half a decade in his position.”
He tried to speak, to scream at you for not telling him sooner, but his voice caught in his throat and you reached up, cupping his face in both hands. Slowly, with a dry chuckle, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. The cool porcelain of his skin sapped the warmth from yours, but for once, you didn’t seem to mind his unusual anatomy. “I hope I’ll be able to cure you, before I’m gone.” You were mumbling, now, speaking barely above your breath. “Do you think you’ll be able to stay for a little longer?”
He tried to answer, but you’d fallen asleep on top of him by the time he opened his mouth.
~
He left the next morning, while you were still tucked underneath a small pile of furs and quilts. A letter was penned and sent to the Doctor’s base, a caddy of wildflower seeds purchased from a young girl peddling wares by the side of the road, and he returned to your cabin just as your sleep turned restless. When you rose an hour past noon, he pestered you into taking him to the groove near the shoreline. By the time you returned, chiding him for distracting you from your responsibilities and pointedly ignoring the basket full of fruit at your hip, the sun was low in the sky and masked soldiers had stamped your garden into the ground. Your cabin was in flames and your shrine had been reduced to little more than a pillar of smoke in the distance.
Whatever concern you might’ve held for him was immediately forgotten. Dropping your basket, you moved to run towards the embers of your home, but Scaramouche caught you – one hand on your shoulder, another on your waist. Careful not to break what couldn’t be repaired, he forced you onto your knees, letting you scratch at his wrists as you screamed, the noise anguished and ragged. Masked soldiers gathered in the outskirts of his vision, but he bared his teeth, keeping them at a distance as you thrashed in his steadfast hold. Once he took you somewhere else, somewhere better, you’d be able to calm down.
Once he got you away from your rotting god and your unthankful village, you’d be able to worship something worth your time.
A moment passed, then another. Finally, the Doctor emerged from the crowd, his white coat unmarred by the ash in the air. He regarded you with a grin, then looked to Scaramouche. “This is the filthy toy you’d like to take home?”
It was a foolish question, undeserving of an answer. Scaramouche countered with one of his own. “Can you fix them?”
“Can I save a human being who’s been brought to the brink of death and infected thoroughly with the rot of divine remains?” The Doctor hummed, clicked his tongue. “That depends, little puppet. How much time are you willing to spend on my vivisection table?”
Scaramouche glowered, but he didn’t protest. Rather, he pulled you close – your crying softer, now, your struggling impossibly weak – and held you against his chest as he responded. “Do what you have to. They’ll be staying in my chambers, and you won’t lay a hand on them without my permission, doctor.”
“I do wish you could call me Dottore.” He sighed, shaking his head. His acquiescence was communicated with a dismissive roll of his wrist, a silent order communicated to his lackeys. His soldiers moved to take you up, but he kept you in his arms as he pushed himself back to his feet, letting you cling to and beat against his chest in tandem.
Your voice was hoarse, your shoulders trembling. Tears streamed freely from your eyes, and he allowed himself to wonder how poorly you would take it if he ran his tongue over your cheeks. “You— You monster. Hundreds of people will—"
“You said you wanted to stay with me, right?” His smile wasn’t as soft as yours, as comforting, but he did what he could. You let out another agonized sob, crumbling against him as he let his lips ghost over your forehead, speaking against your skin and above your wordless cries.
“Now, there’ll be nothing in the world capable of taking you away from me.”
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satoruwiki · 3 months
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I need to get spayed. ♡
sigh, atp im using this as my diary, but i need to write this down and share or I’ll never shut up.
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MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI !!
jjk men d!ck headcanons!
content: lots of cock; me being depraved and going feral over fictional men; sharing my wildest thoughts; might be a little too graphic sometimes (discretion is advised)
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if anyone disagrees with the size ARGUE WITH THE WALL; i’m trying to be as realistic as possible, sadly not every man has fat 12 inches of cock.
gojo;; LAWWWDD when i tell you this man would have the prettiest cock from all jjk men I MEAN IT. He’d have this cute pink tip (the type you could put on a pink bow on <3) and long shaft. I don’t personally think he would have much girth, i mean, look at his body, he’s a lean guy so at most he’d be around 4 inches of girth and 7 inches long (shower). he is trimmed with a cute happy trail idc. Load a little transparent, not necessarily bad, would look cute on your stomach <3
also, he would be the type to shiver and literally whimper when cumming and you cannot convince me otherwise.
suguru;; starting off strong this man has a jacob’s ladder on his frenulum (read this on a ao3 fic once and have not been the same ever since). would also have a pinkish tip but more opaque and flesh-like than gojo’s. probably around 5" x 6,5"(grower). doesn’t look like the type to be hairy therefore at most he’d have a small happy trail. definitely has a vein or two along the shaft. the type to always have a hand on one of your boobs, the type to hide his face in the crook of your neck while shooting his load. also a head pusher ;)
choso;; its fat. i said it. he’s got a fat cock. purple tip, uncircumcised, fat veiny cock. his dick is probably 6 inches (grower). the type to want to look at your face while taking you to poundtown. it’s hairy, will shave it if it isn’t your thing and you ask him to. heavy sack too. load whiter and slightly thicker than gojo’s. will literally gasp and look like he’s having a heart attack when cumming. into period sex. definitely would be the type to hold hands during the deed. fav place to cum at is over your mound or stomach, maybe even your tits :b
also would use cock ring during the deed idc gege told me so.
higuruma;; girthy and 5 inches long (grower), veiny and a little hairy. the type to cum on your face. seed not too thick. will handle you with care but pound on you like crazy. wouldn’t be the type to object when asked to wear a condom. his cock is slightly curved to the left. having your feet over his shoulders is what he likes the best.
nanami;; it’s big. nicely shaved, probably more of a shower. flesh like pink tip, girthy, no veins showing but does have a fat head. a little bit more than 6 inches. this man is neat as hell, it probably smells like musk and aftershave. definitely the type to be quiet, a few groans here and there but not much. mostly focused on your pleasure rather than his, very vanilla and loving type. spooning or missionary is prob is fav position. nanami is definitely the type to be heavily into getting off with out penetration, like rubbing his cock over your folds and clit while you keep your panties on for friction, your underwear would end up soiled with his cum. not much to say abt him, he’s so nice I can’t bring myself to say nasty stuff :(
toji;; CALL ME BIASED IDC ITS FAT. literally up to 7-8 inches, he’s a shower. It is hairy, but not much. he won’t shave it bc he likes to see the way you soak his pubes when you squirt or the cream rings of your fluids and his sticking to his pubes (he likes filthy sex I JUST KNOW ITTT). definitely thick load, so fucking thick and creamy. fat cockhead with purple-ish tones. his sack is so heavy. this man smells MANLY. smells like musk but not in a disgusting way, more like arousing. load is salty. 100% type of man to cum inside and push back his thick load inside you. he loves to eat pussy i just know it. cock so fat and veiny it’d knock me out. would slap your face with his dick. the type to groan in your ear while choking you as he paints your walls (im so weak for him). WILL manhandle you. the type to punish you slapping your cunt.
(eats pussy like a starved man)
sukuna;; this man is onto filthy sex and fucked up shit i wont say or think for the sake of my sanity, just keep in mind he’s a curse and is absolutely depraved (literally canonically eats people). ppl assume he has 2 dicks so… i’ll say he has two monster cocks, think you can handle them? either way, he doesn’t care, he will make you keep up with his pace. will literally fill your mouth with his seed. his cock head is either red or purple. nicely trimmed, will push your head to purposely make you gag on his length. 6 inches of girth and 9 inches long. if he was human, he’d also have a jacob’s ladder.
(I’m taking a cold shower after this)
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plaguechyld · 1 year
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Dom!Reader x Sub!Muzan
Content contains: Overstim, Dom reader, gender neutral reader, Spanking, Punishment, Dom/Sub relationship, Sub Muzan, Basically just straight porn
I was planning on making this probably about twice the length but I’m lazy. Also I don’t know how to end smuts that aren’t complete (unfinished sex scenes) so… Awkward cut off, yay.
18+ content ahead!
His ruby red eyes are clouded with crystalline tears as his fluffy eyelashes stick together from the liquid. A whiny and needy sound escapes from the lips of his mouth, a desperate beg to tell you to do something. Muzan bucks his hips after being restrained from doing so for so long, he doesn’t care that he wasn’t supposed to. He was desperate, desperate for the agonizingly sluggish pace of the machine to speed up. For you to do something, anything else to him. However the demon freezes when he hears a tutting sound coming from you.
“Muzan… I told you not to move, this is the third time already that you’ve disobeyed me.” You say in an almost condescending way as they rub the demon’s cheek. Muzan shakes slightly and tries to bury his face in your shoulder, however the position the two were in prevents him from doing such things. The ravenette was sitting between your legs with his own legs spread. You had a tight grip on his thighs, holding him still now. Most prominently, there was a device attached to his dick. It sucked in an almost painfully slow manner. The inconsistency of the pulls on his dick had ruined multiple of his orgasms, causing the demon progenitor to fall into the state he was in currently. However the machine didn’t stop, it sucked away at him as inconsistent as it was. The red eyed man shakes and whimpers when he feels you rubbing his inner thighs. Your fingers were so close to his dick but they never touched it, merely stimulated the skin next to it. Muzan whines softly, he’s so desperate for the machine to stop or speed up, but he refuses to swallow his pride. You coo to him and gives his neck a kiss while you keep rubbing his thighs, making Muzan choke out a sob.
“P-please… anything else, bite me, cut me, hit me, spank me, just no more…” Muzan says in a shaky and whiny tone as his voice breaks at the end of his sentence. It had been agonizing, being held here and forced to continue this punishment. It made the demon king want to rip his hair out, to do anything. You hum while you continue to rub his thighs in that slow way that teases him just right. The black haired demon is practically shaking like a leaf in the wind, waiting for you to do something, to say something.
“Please! P-please…” He begs, finally, after resisting his urges for so long he finally caves. However you merely chuckles softly.
“Now, darling, why should I? You broke the rules and disobeyed me three times. Why should I give you what you want?” You murmur in his ear which causes the black haired man to whine. Muzan trembles as a fresh wave of tears spill from his ruby red eyes.
“I-I’m sorry! I’ll be good… Just.. please, please!” He begs before shuddering when he feels you trace the skin where the pump is attached. A moan slips out of him as he desperately tries to nuzzle his face into your shoulder, a habit he had picked up when the you two were intimate with each other. The human narrows their eyes slightly, as if debating to give in to the demon’s pleas. After several moments that felt like years to Muzan, the slayer finally decides. Muzan moans in relief when the slayer removes the pump from his dick but tenses up when he in laid stomach down over their thighs with his ass exposed. He knew what was coming and started to wiggle while grabbing one of the human’s hands in his own.
“W-what?! No no, please, not this!” He sobs out as he feels a strong slap on his ass. The slap leaves a pinkish handprint on his pale rear. He jolts when he feels another strong slap across his ass which makes him make a moanish yelp. Tears spill out of his red eyes as his black hair sticks to his forehead. He trembles and yelps once again when he feels another slap on his ass. He knew that the slayer was doing this on purpose, keeping from being able to hide his face in their shoulder while you punish him. He shakes when he sees you retrieve a paddle to use on his already red ass.
“N-no-” Muzan is cut off by you as you rub his perky rear with the palm of your hand.
“Count. If you mess up I’ll start over.” You say before bringing the paddle down on his ass, making him cry out and moan.
“O-one..” Another smack with the paddle is delivered.
“Ah!- Two!” More and more tears slip out of the demon king’s eyes as you repeat the action.
“Three!” Muzan moans loudly while he balls his fists. The black haired man is shaking as you continue his punishment. By the time it ends he’s a crying mess, tears staining his cheek as he is brought to sit on your thigh. You hum before pulling Muzan into a deep and passionate kiss. The demon progenitor kisses back instantly and desperately licks at your tongue. You wrap your arms around his lower back as he holds onto your shoulders with a needy urge. Muzan’s moans are muffled as you two make out, the black haired demon kisses the other like a starved man. He only pulls back when you deliver a tug on his rather sensitive dick. He pulls back and buries his face in your shoulder while moaning.
“Muzan, lay on your back.” You say with that same smirk. Muzan fumbles and almost falls face first onto the soft blankets in his rush to get into the desired position, however he’s able to lay down just how you want him to. You slide between the demon’s legs and he almost cries in relief when he feels the familiar sensation of your fingers slipping in his tight hole. He clenches down on them, trying to take them deeper and deeper while you curl and move your fingers in a scissoring motion. This makes you chuckle softly.
“Are we eager, my king?” You ask the demon in a sweet tone but don’t be mistaken, it was dripping with lust. The mere tone of your voice makes the red eyed man whimper and let out several quiet moans. He nods his head quickly, it was pitiful to see such a strong man, a demon, reduced to a mere whore. Muzan’s legs quiver slightly as he’s more sensitive from the punishments he went through. 
“Please… fuck me.” He mumbles with a far away look in his ruby red eyes. There are still tears threatening to spill over onto his already wet cheeks when you pull out your fingers. A moan slips out of Muzan when he feels you finally pushing into him. He grabs onto your back and rests his legs against your hips. You start moving your hips like a piston, making Muzan cry out loudly and cling to you as you ram in and out of his hole. He loves how you don’t treat him like glass but instead like a piece of meat. The black haired male practically screams when you start to thrust directly into his prostate. His nails dig into your back while he moans and begs loudly.
The once quiet night was now filled with obscene and explicit sounds coming from the strongest demon in existence, caused by a mere human. 
“S’good!” Muzan cries out while you shows no signs of slowing down. It was as if he was made to be the your toy, to be used like a common whore. Slowly but surely, the demon can feel the familiar feeling of a knot in his stomach. He knows that he’s close, but can’t say anything because of the force of the thrusts that he was taking.
“C-Close!-” He moans loudly, even louder than before. If any demon saw this happening, his reputation would surely be in shambles, but right now the king didn’t care, all he cared about was the pleasure that was flooding through him. Tears were sliding down his cheeks as his eyes rolled back into his head and his back arched.
“Cum for me, my king.” You say while continuing the harsh and brutal pace of your thrusts. This is all that the demon needs to hear as his coil snaps, he paints his own stomach with his seed as he screams out. However much to his surprise, you continue the pace. His body grows overstimulated and he can’t help but beg.
“P-please! I’m sensitive!-” He sobs out, tears staining his cheeks again while he clings even tighter to you as you relentlessly pound him into the mattress. You however doesn’t show any sign of stopping. He’s so pretty, his black hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, clear tears spilling from his ruby red eyes and staining his flushed cheeks. His legs are shaking badly as he keeps moaning loudly, holding onto you for dear life. 
“So needy, you wanted this, demon. You wanted me to fuck your tight little hole so badly, so take it.” You say in a condescending way. Muzan lets out loud sobs at the your words, his whole body shaking from overstimulation. He grips you tighter, desperately trying to pull you closer to him.
“Pl- please don’t be mean… J-just fuck me..” He whined out pathetically. He was just so pretty like this, overstimulated, crying and needy.
“Oh Muzan… I’m going to ruin you.” You say as he lets out another sob, legs quaking.
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