#sfw kinktober

[mysweetgirl2-love]

less than tactical touch

prompt 1: hand holding

well wELL WELL!!! Look who's back at it again. Oh? What's this, you ask? Well, nothing really... just my attempt, yet again, at posting for Writingtober, or whatever. SFW Kinktober, if you will.

Yes, I'm so very behind. No, I will not catch up. You can partially count these prompts for NanoWriMo. They're definitely not being finished during the month of October. but!!! here's the first one.

it's Ghost. Yes. What about it? This year, I'm also doing something a little different in that I'm only going to be writing characters I want to write instead of randomizing a few of my favs amongst fan favs. It'll just make the writing process for me easier.

either way!! without further ado, here's a bit of touch starved ghost to kick these prompts off! I hope you enjoy :)!

Word Count: 1.7 k

The rescue went as smoothly as it could, but the rebound is showing its taxing nature. You’re incredibly tired, but Kate brought you out here to do your job. With all that's come to light in the past twelve hours— you were grateful to be on this side of things.

Finding out what happened to Ghost and Soap seriously gutted you. Hearing the report by word of mouth when Kate and Captain John Price found out what Graves and Shepard had attempted to do with Ghost, Soap, and Los Vaqueros… it makes your blood boil thinking about it now.

Laswell had told you to ‘pack your shit together’ as soon as she’d heard word from Price that they’d been successful with extracting the boys from Grave’s personal prison. That’s what you could only describe it as, the stupidity of it all. They were out and heading to a base where, apparently, you had been requested to appear at too.

You didn’t need a hint to know who had requested your being there in the first place. So, following Laswell’s directions, you quite literally packed your shit together as quickly as possible, got in a car, and you were off to the safe house.

Here, feet imprinting into the dirt floor of this other warehouse for Los Vaqueros, you weren’t waiting more than a couple of minutes before the vans arrived. The one leading holds Alejandro and the majority of his men, the next van is the one Rudy hops out of. They barely recognize your person, or don’t fully acknowledge that it’s you. Rudy might’ve lightly waved, but you weren’t sure. There was an understanding amongst everyone— the circumstances existed. There was no changing that, or them, there was going forward with them. Stakes were just different, seriously for better or for worse. 

The third truck pulled up as you pushed forward to take a peek outside, observing the unfolding chaos already emitting from the first two cars. It slowed to an easy halt next to the first two vehicles, and the doors kicked out. The team members of 141 all immediately begin to pile out. Price fronts the group as always, but instead of his approachable demeanor from when you’d first met him, you swear there’s almost steam emitting from his head he’s so pissed. Gaz is behind him, slamming the truck door shut and starting to march into place behind the leader before he scans his surroundings and finds you.

Kyle’s demeanor shifts entirely, the glare shifts into something softer. He’s approaching you before he can think twice, and you’re grateful that someone like him is also present through all of this.

“Hey…” he sighs, sounding too tired. “When’d you get here?”

“Couple minutes ago.” You reply simply, tilting your head on its side. “… Is everything okay? What happened with you guys?”

Gaz is back to looking uneasy, and he averts his eyes toward the floor, “…Well—“ 

“It was fuckin’ Graves.” The Scottish accent angrily hisses on the other side of your head, you alarmingly turn to address it. Soap is marching on, following after Price. “Graves and Shepard, to be exact. The fuckin’ twats tried to kill us.”

“How?” You turn back to Gaz, seeing that Soap wasn’t going to stay and chat details.

“He—“

“He tried murderin’ us, that’s what.” 

You barely have time to process what’s just been spoken in your direction, and your eyes are bulging wide as the six-foot-three soldier comes marching up to you and Kyle— promptly pulling you off by your arm. The only heads-up being the singular statement.

“Uh? Ah?” You start to vocalize— Gaz only helplessly watches as the large, skull-faced soldier drags you away by your upper arm. And you’re fumbling with coming up with something to say. How to interject, get him to stop. But he’s so much bigger than you, and Gaz is nowhere near his stature either. 

You both watch each other as it happens, Gaz helplessly sending a single wave in your direction before turning off to follow his captain who was barking orders to get a handle on the situation. You want to be in that conversation, not dragged away and hidden which seemed to always be the goal of Ghost whenever you were both present at debriefings.

“Stop stalling,” Ghost growls, pulling your closer, “I know you can walk faster than that.”

“I— sure? But— Simon.” You pull against his grasp, and it’s very clearly not going to do anything. His fingers were still pressing marks into your wrist, a reassuring soreness. “Simon. Please?”

Your voice is softer than you expect, and it must catch him by surprise too. He let’s go, turning back and peering down at you through the eye-sockets of his skull mask. The dark eyes shadowed by the black face paint, it always captivates you in so many ways. This time, it is tender. He’s really seeing you, and you can’t grasp entirely why.

“I wasn’t there, and I’m now here. You’re here, you made it back, nothing’s happening right in this moment.” Gently, you reach your own hand in his direction. Brushing your fingers over the space in-between his tactical gear. The long sleeve is thick, but it’s warm from him, and the moment is suddenly careful. “We’re okay.”

Simon never looks away while you stay focused on his arms, and the silence isn’t anything new. He’s typically quiet, everyone knew this, but the presence in his stare holds a weight in your chest. It compels you to look back, the warmth in his stare all the more evident. It holds you there, it closes you off from the rest of the warehouse and makes it your moment together.

“…I can’t let you out of my sight.” Simon’s hand reaches for his glove, he’s ripping at the velcro and pulling the item from his palm. His veined hand stretches out once free, and it’s reaching for your bare palm as well. “It was you, in the back of my mind. Last night…”

“Simon…” you murmur, letting him take up your hand and delicately turn it over so your palm faces the ceiling. His fingers, weightless, brush over the creases in your palm. It tickles, and you sadly smile. “I’m right here. Shepard was never in contact with me.”

Reaching the edge of your palm, his hand finally clasps around your own. His touch is forever warm, and reassuring, and your heart feels like it might as well leap out of your throat. Physical touch is rare with Simon, and this isn’t the first time he’s been soft with you… but, it’s not just you two alone. There are Vaqueros, and 141, and no one’s actively paying attention, but you know that they’re there. And he knows it too. So why—

“I don’t care,” he squeezes your hand tightly, “You weren’t with me.”

“I was with Laswell.” You meekly reply, like it will help whatever turmoil Simon is feeling over the fact he was away from you. 

Ghost’s head shakes in displaying Laswell wasn’t enough. He takes you in by your hand, and suddenly the towering man envelops your waist in one arm. He still holds tight to your hand, your grasps carefully remaining between your chests. You can feel your heart beating lightly against your knuckles, Ghost’s gear swallows his heartbeat in full. But he’s breathing, his shoulders are gently rising and falling with that much evidence.

Lightly closing your eyes, you press your forehead against the front of his jacket. Plastic straps slightly dig back against your skin, and his hand snakes up to gently lay against the back of your skull.

“I’m here now?” You offer softly.

“Hah,” his laugh is humorless, but the sound makes you smile. A pathetic, maybe grateful smile.

His hand squeezes against yours again, and it’s only then when your eyes sting. You both were here, and the weight of it presses down on your shoulders with a newfound emotion. It’s almost unexpected, how the sadness wells up and hits you in your sinuses. He’d clearly been prepared for the worst when he you couldn’t recognize it until now. The degree of what happened… what is now going to happen with handling the Shadows and Shepard. Moments like these were few and far between, no wonder it’s happening all like this suddenly. 

Who knew when there would be time to have another moment like this. Caresses and whispers and warmth. It’s all too fleeting, and before one of you can highlight that, there’s a call from a few feet away.

“Ghost.” It’s Soap, and as you turn to look at the man who’s tone resonates with you, the shorter Scottish man frowns further. “C’mon. Price got Shepard on the line. You should listen in.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead walks back in the direction from which he came. Simon is still protectively wrapped around you, and evermore slowly he begins to unravel.

His accent utters your name softly, and you reach up to place a quiet hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

“I’ll still be here when all is said and done. We are going to make it out of this together. Okay?”

You’re holding his worrisome stare, and though he looks nervous, your words make sense to him. He softly nods, leaning in and managing to angle the tip of his chin so he could press his lips through the fabric of his ski mask and lightly kiss you on your forehead. 

After a brief pause, he completely pulls away. Turning back in to the Special Force member he knew was expected of him. “Right, I’ll be off then. See what Shepard has to say for himself. In the meantime—“

Simon turns back towards you to which you hold out your hand. As if to pace him. “I’ll be right there as soon as your done. Don’t worry.”

He nods again, turning forward and marching on. “Yeah. You better be, otherwise it’ll really turn into a shit show around here too.”

You snicker softly at the man’s stubbornness, but don’t say anything more. You don’t need to imagine the result of his frustrations if that was how he was going to act as soon as he laid eyes on you just moments before.

Instead of waiting around, you pull out your phone. Opening your messages with Laswell, you give her the update… 

Made it, safe and sound. You made a good point on why I should be here. Someone’s happy to see me.

Laswell: Good to hear. I knew he would be. I hate to say I told you so, but… well. I definitely told you so.

You don’t hate it.

Laswell: You’re right. I don’t :)

#fanfic #oneshot #writing #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #reader insert #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #cod mw2 #hand holding #sfw kinktober

[loganwritesprobably]

One Piece Fanfic

Prompt: Cooking/Sharing food Source: SFW Kinktober Fandom: One Piece Pairing: Sanji & Strawhats

～♡～♡～♡🚬♡～♡～♡～

Cooking for the crew isn't just Sanji's job, but his pleasure. There's nothing he loves more than providing for people that he cares about.

#sfw kinktober #one piece #fanfic #writing #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #straw hat pirates #loganwritesfanfics #one piece fanfic

[mslaevateinn]

Here is a double drabble for the first day of Promptober! Finally reconnecting with one of my first fandoms, and my first real OTP!

Written for: "Hand holding" for the sfw list of @kinktober2023 "I've got you" for @flufftober "How many fingers am I holding up?" for @whumptober "Shore leave" for @trektober-challenge

Title: Just in case Pairing: (pre) Troi/Riker No warnings Word count: 200

Can be found on AO3!

“Riker to Enterprise.” “Picard here.”

“The planet seems calm but maybe a bit colder than we imagined.” “Good. Keep us updated. Picard Out.”

Riker acknowledged then zipped his parka as high as possible. “Let’s see if this planet is suitable for a few days of shore leave.” Not that everyone would be thrilled about the cold temperatures like Riker -even if just as a reminder from his childhood. Worf certainly wouldn’t.

With that, Riker, Troi and Data started to walk away, only for Troi to walk on a patch of ice and fall down next to rocks.

“Deanna!” Riker exclaimed as he arrived and crouched next to Troi. “Are you alright?” “Yes, I just slipped. There is no reason to panic.” “You are holding your head.” Troi looked surprised but shrugged it off.” Yes, I hit my head. But softly.” “How many fingers am I holding?” “Don’t be ridiculous.” “How many?” “Three.” “Alright,” Riker said, before hauling her up. “Just in case,” he continued, holding out his hand. “Just in case,” she replied, taking it.

They hadn’t walked a meter that Troi almost slipped again. This time, though, Riker helped her stay steady. “I’ve got you,” he said. Always, Imzadi.

#Star Trek #Star Trek TNG #Deanna Troi #William Riker #pre (post?) TroixRiker #away mission #sort of #they're trying to see if the planet is suitable for shore leave #snow #flufftober #kinktober #sfw kinktober #whumptober #Hand holding #Laevateinn #fanfic #double drabble #trektober 2023 #Laevateinn's Promptober 2023

[danafeelingsick]

kinktober day 1: hand holding

local succubus can't handle public displays of affection. claims otherwise!

starting (and ending lol) kinktober with a first look at my oc Ramuel (he/him), Ramu for short. I want to start writing sickfics for these two (and some smut maybe, who knows?)

and that's all they drew

#oc: demona the succubus #oc: demona #oc: ramuel #kinktober #sfw kinktober #kink blog #sfw prompts #hand holding #demon oc #original art #succubus oc #spooky month finally! #kinktober day #kinktober sfw prompt

[writer-and-lover]

Same with the fluff side of Kinktober! Unfortunately I actually haven't managed to get to this particular part but that means that it's all up for grabs! The list goes as follows:

Hand Holding

Ear Cleaning

Lap Pillow

Drunken Nights (changed from the original prompt)

Embracing

First Kiss

Swapping/Sharing clothes

Napping Together

Deep Kissing

Shining Shoes

Shopping

Chaste Kiss

Playing with hair

Back Scratching

Massaging

Familiar scents

Cooking/Sharing food

Sickfic

Toothbrushing

Showering

Bathing

Washing hair

Putting on makeup

Getting dressed

Dancing together

Tying a tie

Helping button/zip up

Calling

Texts/email

Cuddling

Painting together

Feel free to drop character suggestions through asks!

#☆《.talking.》☆ #•《.fluff.》• #fluff #writing #fandom #sfw kinktober

[vampcubus]

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑 : 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!zenitsu agatsuma, mean dom!fem!reader, modern au, spit kink/spitting, finger sucking, light master kink, light oral fixation, spit as lube, dacryphilia, overstimulation, degradation, sadism/masochism, pet name (lamb), fingering (m!receiving), cumming in pants/untouched, referenced stalking, zentisu is aged up to twenty-one in this.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 2.2k+

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 : 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓

Zenitsu kneels at your feet, arms hugging your legs as his wide, brown eyes bore into you through dewy, blond lashes. His gaze is reverent and desperate as if he can’t tear himself away from you. The sight is reminiscent of how a golden retriever would look at its owner, equal parts pathetic and adoring.

‘Pay attention to me,’ his eyes say, ‘Love me,’ they beg, ‘Take pity on me,’ they plead with your own.

These are the eyes of the same man you’d just discovered snooping around your home. There’s something familiar about him as if you’d seen him before.

No, you’d definitely seen him before. All those times you’d felt watched, followed, or hunted. 

His hair is the same canary-yellow you’d see retreating in your peripheral when you’d look over your shoulder. Your heart sank into your stomach at the realization that you hadn’t been paranoid after all. Someone really had been out to get you all along and now they’re here, clinging to your legs like a child.

You lower a hand to stroke your fingers through his golden hair in a placating manner, and the simple gesture of affection seems to flip a switch in him. His breathing quickens and he buries his face into your stomach, hugging you tight enough to hurt as he begins to sob. His band-aid-riddled fingers bunch in your shirt as if he’s afraid you'll slip through them if he doesn’t cling.

“You’re touching me… you’re really…” The blond murmurs, his words muffled against your tummy. He shivers and trembles like the sensation is overwhelming, but he shoves his head into your hand anyway, chasing the affectionate caress. “Keep doing it. Keep… petting me, please…”

"I-I'm not dangerous, I swear,” he whimpers with a sniffle and looks up at you, hoping that his doe-eyed gaze would be enough to get you to relent. "I just... I burn for you. Please, just let me stay! I'll do anything! Anything!”

Your fingers tighten in his hair, forcing his head back none-too-gently.

“Ah!” Zenitsu recoils in a mix of surprise and pleasure, not expecting you to manhandle him so firmly. He lets his head be forced back, his eyes still puppy-like, but a faint blush has spread across his cheeks. 

He looks dazed, drunk off of your mere proximity. He hardly cares if your touch is rough, just that you’re touching him at all. 

You lips curl into a sadistic smirk at this realization.

“Kind of pathetic aren’t you, lamb? If I didn’t find it mildly amusing I might have turned you in to the authorities,” you taunted, entertained by the way his bottom lip trembled. Zenitsu looks up, his face splotchy from tears as he sniffles wetly, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation.

"Lamb?" He croaks, looking up at you through his dewy lashes at the pet name, allowing himself to hope. “Does that mean you'll be my shepherd? My master?"

“Of course you’d focus on that part,” you tsk, though you can’t say you’re displeased at the tears dotting his lash line. Sick in the head or not, he was a pretty crier, and you’d be lying if that didn’t turn you on. “That’s all you’re thinking about; being a dumb, mindless slut for me aren’t you?”

Zenitsu moans aloud at that, cock twitching in his pants. But he frantically shakes his head ‘no’, trying to insist it wasn’t true, cheeks aflame with humiliation. 

“Don’t say that! I-I’m not p-pathetic. I’m just–” he warbles, only to cry out as your foot presses against the prominent bulge tenting his pants, calling his bluff in a simple movement. 

“What’s this then?” Your self-satisfied sneer and vibrant eyes glimmering down at him make his mind go blank. 

“Th-that’s- haaa~ mmh!” His voice trails off into a mewl, and he can’t stop himself from humping himself against the arch of your sock-clad foot. “I’m sorry, you’re just so beautiful. It gets like this whenever you’re around. I’m sorry!”

Your eyes darken with lust at his pathetic display, tongue dipping out to drag across your lip as he wraps both arms around your leg and bucks his hips. Heat pools between your legs, and you clench around nothing.

“Aren’t you embarrassed? Look at how hard you are, and all I’ve done is degrade you. You truly are pathetic,” you laughed, fingers tightening in his hair.

“Ssstop, I’m gonna cum,” he sniffles, teary, amber-colored eyes rolling back and tongue flopping out as his dick gets even harder. “Y-you’re gonna make me cum.”

Zenitsu squeezes his eyes shut and sobs when you take your foot away, humping the air uselessly, chasing friction that’s no longer there. His eyes flutter open at the feeling of your thumb tracing the seam of his lips, and he hums curiously.

“Open,” you instruct, and with minimal hesitation, his lips part. He shudders when your thumb dips into his mouth, stroking over his teeth and tongue. You explore his wet cavern with little regard for his comfort, trading your thumb for your index and middle fingers and purring in delight when he begins to suck without coaxing. 

“Good boy,” you crooned, and your cunt throbs at the hopeful, puppy-like look he sends you at the praise. 

He suckles at your digits more enthusiastically, gagging cutely when you press them deeper. Despite the tears stinging at his eyes, he lets you fuck his mouth open with your fingers, swirling his pretty pink tongue around them with even pinker cheeks. Desperation seeps into his expression, and you raise a brow, retracting your fingers to let him speak.

“Please kiss me,” he begs, drooling dribbling down his chin from practically blowing your digits. “P-please I’ve imagined your lips on mine so often… Dreamt of how you might taste.”

You hum, tapping your chin as if considering his request. You drag him by the hair up to your level, and he gasps at the sting, though he looks so damned excited when you lean in. 

“Open your mouth,” you nearly growl, and if Zenitsu had a tail he’s sure it’d be wagging. He obeys eagerly, parting his lips in anticipation of the hot caress of your lips over his own. 

His brows crease in confusion when your finger hooks into his mouth again, holding his jaw open, unsure of why you would need to–

Zenitsu’s body goes rigid when instead of kissing him, you spit directly into his mouth. His eyes cross as your saliva lands on his tongue, and with a startled shout, he cums in his pants completely untouched. The blond convulses and moans out, sounding unhinged as he paints the insides of his pants with white ropes and nearly collapses to the floor. He swallows your spit greedily, and his hands cling onto your waist, blunt nails digging into your hips. 

“A-again! Please, spit in my mouth again!” He cries, rubbing his overstimulated cock over your thigh despite the bright sting. “Fuck me, spit on me. I don’t care, just use me!”

You gnarl your fingers in his hair and tug him by it over to the bed, throwing his smaller form onto the mattress in a careless manner. He lands on his belly, with his lower half slightly raised, and the position brings your attention to his round ass. He attempts to pull himself up, only to be shoved back down, and then yanked to the edge of the bed until his legs are dangling off the side of it. 

“W-what’re you doing?” Zenitsu whines, nearly choking when instead of answering you yank his pants down his legs. His underwear follows shortly after and he gasps as the cold air hits his cum-slicked dick. But you ignore his throbbing half-hard sex, fully fixated on the cleft of his ass, which you’re quick to spread to get a better look at him. “A-ah! Are you-? Are you really going to fuck me?”

“That’s the idea, got any complaints?” Your hands rove over his thighs, hips, and backside, kneading the heated flesh in your hands. 

Zenitsu can hardly believe this is happening, that you’re truly rubbing him down right now. He had fisted his clock to the thought of this very moment for months on end, imagining every which way you’d take him. You’re not as tender as he’d hoped, but even your roughness is intoxicating. You’re throwing him around like a doll, doing with him as you please. He can’t help but lap up all the attention you’re giving him like a starved animal, even if you don’t love him, he’ll settle for this.

Even so, he’s eager to convince you to keep him.

“Please do! I-I’ll make it worth your while, promise! I’ll be the best toy you’ve ever— Ow!” His babbled reassurances are cut off by a harsh spank to his plump rear, and the deranged thing that’s decided you own him only wriggles his ass enticingly in response.

You even hear a choked giggle escape him and you mirror it despite yourself.

You lean in to trail kisses along the red handprint you’d left behind, and the boy erupts with shivers, his cock twitching back to full hardness whilst pinned between his tummy and the mattress. He cries out when you spit on his taint, his entire body jerking at the warm, wet sensation of it dripping down his hole. 

Your finger follows the wet trail, pressing down on his rim. He startles like a spooked rabbit, a clipped ‘Eep!’ tumbling out of his drooling lips.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” You drawled in an amused tone, forced to admit you were quite taken with the shameless blond now.

He shakes his head rapidly but grinds his ass back onto your fingers enthusiastically, brown eyes nearly heart-shaped as strains to watch you touch him over his shoulder, “Just you, master.”

You press a slicked finger he’d drooled on earlier into him and he arches, mouth agape at the sensation of being filled. You fuck him open with one digit for a while, and then two, and the stretch makes him whimper, “Hurts.”

“Relax, lamb. It’ll feel better soon, it’ll feel really good. You trust your master, don’t you?” You comfort him in a soft tone, mesmerized by the ways he clenches around your digits.

He nods quickly, and even as he moans that it ‘hurts’ his inner walls keep trying to pull you in deeper. Yes, master knows what’s best for me.

He doesn’t quite say it aloud, but his body relays the message well enough.

Soon you’re fucking him open with three fingers, and the small thing can only writhe, moan, and drool against the sheets of your bed. Your scent is all around him, your fingers deep inside him, your voice guiding him along toward his orgasm like a lover would. He’s ascended to heaven surely, and you’re an angel picking him apart.

Your fingers brush over his prostate and he nearly wails, delirious tears streaming down his face, choked praises and gory promises to always protect you spilling out of him.

He’s close, so so close but he needs more from you.

“Y/nnn, my love. Please spit in my mouth again. Need all of y-yo-ou insiiide me!” Zenitsu begs, voice already hoarse from screaming his lungs out in pleasure. 

He’s sniffling and sobbing so hard it’s a wonder he can speak at all through the hiccups. 

Something about his pathetic cries resonates with you. Here this stunning man was, clearly ill for you, begging you to desecrate and disrespect him. Treating your spit like it’s a blessing. He deserved better than you, or maybe you were perfect for one another in your fucked-upness. 

You slide your fingers out and turn him over into his back. You crawl up his body, his hands grabbing at every part of you he can reach. Your clothed cunt presses against his flushed-red and leaking cock, and he keens at the feeling of your slick soaking through onto him. When your finger hooks into his mouth again, he’s quick to open it, anticipating your spit.

Instead, your lips find his own.

His limbs lock up, blunt nails digging into the flesh of your lips as he frantically humps against your pussy for a few more agonizing seconds. In the end and then he cums so hard it feels a little like dying. He lets out a strangled moan into your mouth, happy tears pouring out of him as sticky ropes spill out over his twitching abdomen. 

It feels so good he can do nothing but cry and cling, hoping to god he won’t wake up to find it’s all been a dream. But when he comes to, all he can see, smell, and hear is you. A tired, dumb grin spreads across his face.

“You kissed me,” he rasps stupidly.

“So I did,” you replied resolutely.

“I was wrong before, about you being my shepherd. I think you’re more like a hungry wolf,” Zenitsu sighs, eyelids drooping sleepily. He fights to keep his eyes open, to look at you a little longer. “You’ll eat me alive.”

“You seemed keen to let me gobble you up a moment ago,” you teased, grinding your cunt down on his oversensitive cock.

“Mercy on your lamb, please!” Zenitsu cries, squirming away from the friction this time. “Too much!”

“My lamb?” You ask with raised brows.

He looks a much too demure when he replies, “I was only ever yours. I don't care if you string me along. You can lie to me, pretend you love me. I'll be your stupid little helpless lamb, just never leave me."

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #zenitsu x reader #sub zenitsu #sub!zenitsu #dom!reader #dom reader #female reader #fem!reader #sub kny #sub!kny #sub demon slayer #cw yandere #sub!character #n/sfw

[spacecowboyhotch]

Kinktober Day 2: Public Sex

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, public sex (OBVI), unprotected sex, dirty talk

wc: 486

an: kicking off kinktober with this for my love @doctorstethoscope. love u 😚 p.s. this isn’t beta’d so…sorry for typos <3

kinktober 2023 masterlist | cm masterlist

This is not like him— not like you either, though between the two of you, you’re the most likely to jump his bones in an inappropriate place. How the tables have turned.

“Aaron,” You whine breathlessly, your grip on his shoulders tightening as you try to rut up against him.

He has you perched on the edge of the sink counter in the jet’s tiny bathroom. Your legs are spread to accommodate the width of his hips. It’s a snug fit, but neither of you really mind. It takes no effort at all for him to press his lips to your temple, to snake his hand between your bodies to rub soft circles into your clit. His head swims with the scent of your soft perfume which permeates the entire space. By his standards, he’s in heaven.

“We don’t— we don’t do this,” You murmur into the crook of his neck. The way your voice cracks tells him that he’s doing plenty right.

“I know, sweetheart, but I needed you. Needed to feel you cum for me honey,” Those words in the deep timbre of his voice are sinful.

Your pussy is squeezing him so tight, threatening to send him over the edge of his own orgasm. But he would rather pull out now and finish you with his mouth and fingers before beating you there. He rolls his hips a little harder, rubs his two fingers against your clit a little firmer. In the small space he’s hitting deep, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against that sweet spot inside of you. Your breath picks up, and he knows that all you need is a little nudge. He’s always happy to give it to you.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me see you fall apart,” He breathes quietly.

It’s all you needed to hear him say. You bury your face further into his neck, biting your lip to keep the groan that threatens to leave you in as you cum around his cock. Your release drags him down, and you feel the way he fills you with warmth. One of his hands leaves your leg and presses over his mouth, holding in a groan of his own.

After several moments of mingled breaths, you lean back, resting your head back against the mirror with a satisfied smile.

“We’re never doing that again,” He says firmly, but even as he does you can see the warmth in eyes, can see the way his shoulders have relaxed for the first time in 10 days. It was a rough case, a long case and though he thinks it’s inappropriate, it’s exactly what he needed.

“Never say never,” You tease, leaning in to capture his mouth with your own.

And though he’s just scolded your desecration of the jet’s bathroom, he kisses you with enough fervor to get you thinking about round two.

hotch taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @pastanoodles11, @stevengrcnt, @greg-montgomery, @lesbianhotch, @rousethemouse, @flightlessangelwings, @hotchsdharma, @maisondenachtai, @silversprings-mp3, @callm3c0nfus3d

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #arson’s kinktober #fawktober2023 #not sfw #arson writes

[bugsyfics]

DEFLOWER — S. MICHAELIS

✰ 10: 04 - [virginity kink] ✰

Synopsis: It's your first time and Sebastian is delighted to lend a helping hand

Run time (wc): 489 Rating: R (18+ mdni) ⚠︎ CW: virginity kink, corruption, unprotected sex, creampie, verrry slight dub-con

kinktober '23 m.list

A sacred thing virginity is. Whether or not it is treated as such, since one can think of this subjectively, there’s something to be said about how the very first time opens the door to a myriad of possibilities and electrifies curiosity. 

Perhaps it was because it was in his nature to corrupt, but the idea of taking your innocence lit Sebastian ablaze with sexual desire. He knew you were apprehensive. In fact, you trembled and reached for his pale, slender hands each time his fingers grazed below your belly button. You tensed and he soothed you with warm kisses along your collarbone and down the valley of your breasts, smirking to himself whenever your chest rose suddenly with a hitched breath. Clearly, whatever he was doing was working. Arousal pooled at the entrance of your aching cunt, the aroma reaching Sebastian and driving him wild. 

“I believe you're ready,” Sebastian groaned. This was no question, he was certain, however he looked at you expectantly with glowing eyes. Then with a soft, keen whimper you obliged. 

Sebastian was growing impatient, each moment he went without being balls deep inside you was tortuous. So, he took no time unfurling his erection and swiping a bead of pre cum over your sensitive clit. You mewled and bucked your hips forward chasing the feeling. And finally, you felt it. The tip of his cock stretching past your hymen and entering your sodden cunt with a squelch. 

“Wait–” Your eyebrows furrowed in discomfort. But Sebastian only acknowledged it with a faint hum and rolling of his hips. It wasn’t that he did not care, indubitably he knew that if he stopped now, the next time he began he’d take you in a brutish way. Ungentleman-like, and above all like a beast–the beast he was. 

He gritted his teeth and slowly rocked forward again, then again, until he felt you clench around him and watched your head lull back onto the soft duvet. 

As he continued, your body shook, and you bit your lip staring up at him with blown pupils. This was something he could get used to and the thought made him thrust faster into your fluttering walls. 

“I feel–oh!” you gasped and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Weird like I might pee.” 

Instead of responding, Sebastian chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours and fucked you deeper, more intimately. The pressure grew and you squirmed underneath him, legs thrown loosely over his waist and panting. This type of yearning was foreign to you. The coil grew tighter and tighter before snapping suddenly, leaving you a moaning mess. 

His cum leaked out of you like sweet vanilla pudding in an eclair, and he licked his lips eagerly. Sebastian was proud, but not yet satisfied. 

“I’m impressed, my love,” Sebastian said, pulling you forward by the plush of your thighs. “You take me so well… how about another go?”

#not sfw #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis smut #black butler sebastian #black butler fandom #black butler imagines #black butler x reader #black butler scenarios #black butler x y/n #black butler fanfiction #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji smut #kuroshitsuji sebastian #kuroshitsuji x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis #kintober 2023 #kinktober

[mysicklove]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

DAY 17: VOUYERISM

With: Yoichi Isagi and Meguru Bachira

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sub/bottom isagi, sub/top bachira, mlm, anal sex, AFAB! reader because of mentions of pegging, but rest is Gn!, overstimulation, doggy style, picture taking, hand job, praise, nickname "baby" once for Isagi

A/N: This is my longest fic yet ! I hope I dont write anything else this long cause how tf am i supposed to write 31 days of this shit

You and Isagi have been dating for a long time. Four years and one hundred and two days to be exact. A long time for people in their twenties, but you loved him, and could never dream about ending it with him.

The two of you had much time to experiment in bed due to how long your relationship has been. Finding out Isagi was more submissive in these types of acts made it much easier for the two of you, and with that knowledge the both of you were determined to find something new and exciting as often as you can. 

So you have tried many things: roleplay, pegging, bondage, strap sucking, sounding, almost everything you can think of, well that are “softer” in the kink domain at least. 

But there are still some things the two of you have not tried. 

“You want me to fuck my best friend in front of you?” Your boyfriend exclaims, eyebrowed raised and mouth open in shock.

“”Best friends”! I am blush–”

“Well he’s actually going to fuck you,” You interrupt, glancing at Bachira who is now staring at Isagi with stars in his eyes.

The dark-haired boy points to himself in confusion, still processing the information. His cheeks warm, and he gulps as he looks over at his soccer partner. The other shoots him a wink and grins as if nothing was amiss. “Yep. Unless you want to fuck me, I am good with that too! Y/N just said you like to take it up–” Isagi covers his mouth in an instant, blushing profusely and looking away. 

He glances back at you, squirming slightly under your gaze. “Isn’t this…Cheating?”

You lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, and he melts into it, calming his nerves instantly. “I am asking you to do it,” You say, rubbing your finger along his jaw, with a small reassuring smile.

Bachira sits quietly, but expectantly. The only rule he has was to listen to your commands and the rest was on him. He loved Isagi, so it’s not like he would ever cause him harm, so you weren’t too worried about it.

Isagi nods at you and then turns back to the other boy, the nerves picking up when he makes eye contact with his best friend. “S-Sooooo how do we begi–”

Bachira tackles his best friend with a kiss, pushing the two of them down onto the bedsheets. You chuckle at the eagerness, and Isagi lets out a surprised yelp as his back slams into the mattress.

You grab a pillow and prop it up against the headboard and relax against it, now having a comforting view. The two of them lay in front of you, Bachira still on top, while your boyfriend occasionally sends you glances, as to ask Is this really okay? To which you nod, and hum in encouragement.

Slowly, Isagi begins to relax into the kiss, opening his mouth and allowing Bachiras tongue to slip in. It’s different from your kisses — his are sloppy, and maybe even too much tongue. Still, he doesn’t mind it, though it’s weird to think that he would be kissing someone other than you.

Bachira is the first to pull away, straddling Isagi’s waist and pulling off his shirt. Then he leans forward and helps pulls the other boys off. His lips are back on the boys in an instant, moaning lightly into the kiss. Isagi runs his hands up to the back of the other’s hair, and gently tugs.

Bachira in return mewls into his mouth and bites Isagis lip. The boy yelps out and pulls away, now touching his lip. He turns to you with a small pout. “He bit me!” Then back to Bachira. “You bit me!”

Meguru pants out, “You pulled my hair though? Thought you wanted me to rough you up?”

Isagi fumes at this and turns at you not knowing what to say. You laugh at the two and pat Bachira on his head, considering he is closest to you. “Yoichi is a little bit of a princess. Gotta be treated with care,” You tease, smiling as you run your fingers through the boy’s brown hair.

Your boyfriend grumbles something along the lines of, “I am not a princess,” as he begins to pull off his pants. You grin at him and bark a small laugh.

Bachira on the other hand is soaking up your touch. He seems to purr into it, leaning into the hand. “I’d let you rough me up,” He mumbles with a smile, turning his head to lick your palm.

You raise your eyebrows at his boldness and Isagi scoffs. “Thought you were fucking me?”

“Oooooh Isagi you are jealous little thing aren’t ya? I’m coming, Im coming!” Bachira replies, smiling widely. He seems to pounce on the other before he could murmur a complaint. 

The two continue on and you hum, feeling your own arousal begin to build up. You watch Bachiras hand slip down Isagis’s boxers, and he jumps with a small yelp falling from his lips. “Hands are cold,” He complains to no one in imparticular, before slipping Bachiras pants off.

They both stare at eachother and gulp. The have seen eachother naked in the locker room, hell even Bachira walks around bare every time he gets an opportunity to, but this was different. They were both pulsing, completely hard under each other’s gaze — it was slightly embarrassing. Isagi spares you a glance, and you smile at him. “Different than usual?”

“Y-Yeah. You can say that.”

Bachira chuckles and pulls Isagi back into the kiss, hoping to ease the embarrassment.

The two of them begin grinding against each other, lead by the brown-haired boy. They both are groaning out, pulling away from one another and panting. You take this time to take an indulgent look at the two of their cocks. Isagis is slightly larger, but not by much. Bachiras is thinner, but long.

“Like what you see?” Bachira grins at you, his face red from his movements. 

You chuckle at him, crossing your legs and leaning forward. “You are so pretty Meguru,” You purr, just out of curiosity to see his reaction.

He giggles in return, blushing slightly and then burying his head into Isagis neck. “Mhmmm! You are so lucky Isagi!” 

Isagis hazy eyes flicker to yours and he frowns. “Don’t pout at me. You are just as pretty and you know that ‘chi.”

He seems to take a liking to this answer, so he wraps his arms around Bachiras neck. The dark-haired boy whispers, “You going to do it or not?” into the other’s ear.

“On it boss!” Meguru nods frantically, and begins to prod his finger at Isagis entrance. 

“He’s already prepped," You interrupt before Bachira could question it. "Did it earlier, told him we had a surprise." Isagi slightly blushes, but nods in agreement.

Meguru lets out a long drawn-out whine. “No fair. You guys are taking away all the fun.”

You laugh at the boy, but shrug. Isagi mumbles out a halfhearted, “Sorry man."

Suddenly Isagi is being flipped. He now lays on his stomach, eyes wide, and staring directly at you. He gulps and gives you a small awkward wave. You chuckle and lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“From behind?” You question, as you pull away from your boyfriend. Bachira begins to pour lube onto his fingers, and directly on the source, causing Isagi to shiver from the coolness of it. 

“Thought you would like seeing Isagis face! Or um, both of ours?” The last part came out as more of a mumble, unsure of his place here.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. Isagi lets out a small shocked noise, and Bachira moans into your mouth, eager by the act of affection. 

You pull away with a small grin, and Bachira stares at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “I’d love to see it.” 

The boy giggles again in response and you smile softly at him. Isagi calls out your name, craning his neck up toward you to give you easier access. You press your lips to his, holding him up by his chin. He groans into your mouth, beginning to inch his tongue in.

Suddenly his eyes fly open and he lets out a broken moan. You pull away to see Bachira behind him, pressing his tip inside already. His hands lay on the other’s hips, and he stares, slightly panting and pressing more of himself in. 

“Impatient, are we?” You question, eyes meeting his yellow ones.

“Ba–ahhh! S-Slow down! I cant–” Isagi hisses, gnawing on the pillow to help ease the intense sensation. Bachira was bigger than anything he has taken before. He was used to smaller toys, and always seem to tremble at the thought of taking something big. This was a whole new feeling for the boy.

He trembles slightly, and Bachira huffs, wiping away a strand from his forehead. “S-So tight, Isagi. I thought you were prepped?”

“I am, asshole! You are going too fast!”

“Yoichi, play nice. He didn’t know,” You coo, brushing back his bangs and sparing him a warm smile. He whines at you, pouting lightly when you take the other side. “But Meguru, take it slow. He’s never taken anything of your size.”

Bachira seems to perk up at this, tearing his eyes from Isagis hips to you. “You think I’m big?”

“Don’t let it get to your head egoist.”

He seems to like this answer, grinning at you, but nodding. “Mines bigger,” Isagi mumbles into the pillow, his back slightly arched to meet Bachiras hips. 

Bachira begins to move again, finally bottoming out. The blue hair boy keens at the feeling, a small yelp falling from his lips. He shuts his eyes and waits for himself to get adjusted. “Hmm you’re right. Maybe then next time we can switch positions!”

Isagi barks a laugh, grateful in the moment for his best friend’s upbeat energy. It seems to ease away the discomfort. After a couple more seconds, he just feels strangely full, less uncomfortable overall.

You watch as Bachira rests his hands on Isagis hips. He sits on his knees from behind the other who is still on all fours. Both of them are flushed red, slightly from the feeling and slightly from the whole thing in general. Never would have thought that they would be fucking each other.

You hum at Bachira, snapping him out of his thoughts. Your eyes tell him to move, so he nods and pulls out, and then in again. 

The two begin to pant, and Bachira keeps to a slow but deep pace, while Isagi is staring up at you. He blinks at you, mouth open to take in more air, and eyes beginning to fog. 

You smile at him and pat his head. “Doing so good Yoichi. Does Megurus cock feel good?”

At the sound of his name, Bachira begins to pick up the pace. He tightens his grip on the other’s hips, and furrows his eyebrows, focusing now on the task at hand. 

Isagi moans out at the change of pace. His eyes slightly roll and he nods at you. “Mhmmm. G-Good.”

Meguru smiles at this, his own moans slipping past him. They are higher in pitch, whiny even, contrasting Isagis lower sort of grumbles of moans. Both were equally cute. With each second, Bachira grows more confident. The sound of slapping skin fills the air, along with an assortment of sounds. 

“Isagis ass feels s-so good! C-Cant get enough of it!” Bachira exclaims, collapsing forward on top of the other, his hands falling next to Isagis shoulders. He presses his chest against the boy’s back when the other’s knees begin to give out.

The two of their faces were inches away from your crossed legs, Isagis now tear-streaked halfway buried into the pillow. It was cute to see him like this, with every breath a whimpery moan escapes, and he was trembling under the weight of it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You are going too hard!”

You peer up at Bachira, who is panting heavily now, a small fucked out grin on his face as he seems to only chase his own pleasure. When he feels your gaze, he slightly frowns, afraid you’ll tell him off. “No, please don’t make me slow down! Feels good. I can’t!”

To prove his point, he reaches under Isagi and begins to stroke him off. The blue-haired boys whole body seems to jerk, and a whole new set of tears drip down his cheek. “F-Fuck! Not both at o-once,” he pleads, gripping the pillow with trembling hands.

You don’t say anything, even when Isagi glances up at you with wet, glassy eyes. His whole face is red, and his body bounces toward you with each thrust. You reach down and rub his tears away, and he sniffles at you, before letting out a loud whiny moan when he feels the other graze his prostate. 

“Did you think that at yesterday’s practice, that only the next day your partner would be fucking you in the ass?” You say above the lewd squelching noises. 

Bachira giggles at this, even if the question wasn’t directed to him. “I was–I was so excited!” He sighs, shivering slightly from above him. “It’s better than I thought it would be. Isagi is so warm. And–And t-tight!”

Isagi fumes at both of your statements, his whole face bright pink. The tears don’t make his case any better. He looks absolutely adorable right now, already fucked out. He slightly shakes his head, looking away.

You pull at your phone and point it at the two heads, wanted to keep this photo in your collection of Isagis fucked dumb faces. Bachira takes notice of this and immediately tries to grin, but it comes out wobbly and his eyes are half-lidded. Isagi doesn’t even try to change positions, too fucked out to even care. Meguru takes this time to plunge a finger into his mouth, pulling at the skin to form a makeshift smile. 

It doesn’t work, instead, it just makes Isagi drool even more, and his tongue begins to hang out. You snap the picture and press a kiss to both of their cheeks in thanks. Bachira blushes and tries to smile, while Isagi doesn’t even react, seeming to be in his own little world. 

He is completely limp by this time, his legs given out, but you can see him slightly buck his hips into Bachiras hand. He’s mumbling something along the line of, “So good. ’s so good.” 

Suddenly, he tenses up and grips at the sheets. His whole body begins to shake and he lets out broken airy gasps as he stares at you with wide eyes.

You and Bachira stare, shocked. “Yoichi, did you just–”

“Fuckkkkkkk!” He exclaims, tears coming out in globs and his whole body trembles. Bachira pulls his hand away, that’s now covered in cum. You bark a small laugh, shocked by your lover. He always announced when he had to cum. He must have gotten lost in the pleasure.

You grab the washcloth next to you and wipe his hand off, Bachira’s thrusts slowing down to let you. Once done, he plants his hands back from above the dark-haired boy and begins to pick it up again. “W-Wait but I already!” Isagis says, eyes looking back at you desperately in a plea.

“Meguru hasn’t cum yet. Don’t be selfish, baby.”

He whines out, but a particularly hard thrust makes him lose his breath. “S’alright. D-Dont worry, Isagi. Im close. Im close,” Bachira pants into Isagis neck, his voice shaky and breathless. 

“C-Can I cum?” The boy asks, craning his neck up to look at you, his own eyes beginning to water.

You cock your head to the side and smile at him. “Sure Meguru. Why, aren’t you a good boy?”

He preens at the praise, nodding into Isagis neck, and now wanting desperately to coax some more out of you. It makes him feel giddy, but nice, warm even.

Isagi, whose head is still spinning, and his body tingling from overstimulation, whimpers at your words. “Sorry. ‘m sorry! Im g-good–Ah! too! Please please please!”

You rub your fingers down his face and he shakily grabs at your hands a broken sob falling from his lips at Bachiras force. “Shhh. You are doing so good Yoichi. Such a good boy for me.”

He nods into your touch, soaking up the words, and you use the other hand to pet Bachira’s head. “Im–Im cumming! Oh fuck oh fuck!” He quickly pulls out of Isagi and reaches back to stroke himself off through it.

He cums onto the dark-haired boy’s ass, and back. He hisses through it, shutting his eyes and grinding his teeth together. You coax him through it with soft coos, while Isagi leans into your hand as he waits for his best friend to come down from his high. His legs shake and fall limp against the bed.

A couple of seconds later Bachira collapses next to him. The both of them are on their stomachs next to one other. Immediately, Bachira is cuddling up to Isagi, loving the warmth of the other. You grin at the two and run your fingers through their hair. 

“Well, that was fun! Was I really a good boy?” Bachira exclaims, his energy coming back not even minutes later. He peers up at you and kicks his legs from behind him.

Isagi throws him a weak punch on the shoulder, too exhausted to do any better. “Watch it. That’s my nickname. Worked four years for it.”

Bachira lets out a dramatic whine. “What? Isagiiiii. Don’t be so selfish!”

“Maybe if you bottom next time, they will call you that. You'll see what hell I was put through to deserve it,” Isagi sighs, cuddling up to your knee and the pillow beneath him. You smile at him, and he seems to purr under your touch.

Bachira taps his chin, and cocks his head to the side. “Then why did you cum so early if you didn’t like it?”

Isagi grabs the pillow next to him and shoves it in his best friend’s face. “Stupid fucking egoist,” He sighs, closing his eyes, even with his face blooming red from embarrassment.

You hear Bachiras muffled laugh from behind the pillow.

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#mello.writes #Barkforme! #Kinktober 2023 #dom! reader #dom reader #afab! reader #sub! bachira #sub bachira #sub! isagi #sub isagi #isagi smut #bachisagi #bachira smut #x reader #reader insert #n/sfw #bachira x reader #bachira x reader smut #isagi x reader #isagi x reader smut #bachira x isagi

[emmab3mma]

'love notes' izuku midoriya x f!reader

IZUKU MIDORIYA x FEMALE READER

SFW OCTOBER! - DAY 2 - LOVE NOTES (yes i changed it cause i couldnt write lap pillow shut up) - prompt list

wc: 237

izuku loved you, oh how much he loved you. another thing he loved was giving you little notes.

When you went to U.A., he would leave little notes in your locker; ‘have a good day!’ he’d write, always signing it ‘izu’ with his signature smiley face. he’d always manage to sneak a little note into your notebooks, pencil pouch, backpack, wherever he could. He just wanted to remind you he was there. when he’d leave for missions or internships, or really any time you two were apart, he always texted you. random messages from him pop up on your phone during the day. ‘i love you ! :)’, ‘i miss you :(‘, or random tiktoks. those ones that say ‘send this to the prettiest girl you know’ or something you like. 

he wasnt the only one writing notes, though. writing him notes was one of your favorite things. not during class though, especially when All Might was teaching. he’d give you the biggest glare if you passed him a note during All Might’s class. 

when you two were married in the future, you two had a game. a game of hiding notes. you’d go to the bathroom and find a small note on the door when you shut it, you’d find one in your laptop. sometimes you would go to his agency while he was out and leave small notes in his office, or in his hero gear. 

A/N: okay, i know im late and i'm so sorry! I'm a teacher who has no respect for her time 😭. I shouldnt be late next week, as it’s my district's fall break. Most of my October / kinktober posts will be short drabbles. 

#x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x f!reader #izuku midoriya #deku #bnha #mha #izuku x reader #deku x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #fluff #fanfic #kinktober 2023 #sfw

[abyssruler]

5 SUNDAYS OF KINKTOBER

5TH MASS ♱ scaramouche x fem!reader

homily — you look good when you cry in the middle of the hall after he deliberately humiliates you in front of everyone. but he thinks you look best when you look up at him through teary eyes as you choked on his fingers in the school’s public restroom.

communion — comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

modern au, college au, bully scara, possessive scara, noncon, manipulation, blackmail, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, oral m-receiving, semi-public sex, nonconsensual filming, spit kink, warning you now: scara is an asshole

5 sundays of kinktober

Scaramouche could be so pleasant when he wanted to, donning a fake smile that worked on your parents like a charm, talking and laughing with them over breakfast like he hadn’t just been pounding his cock into you last night, your cries and moans muffled by the forceful way he shoved his fingers into your mouth.

He got off of seeing your face twist with pain, tears flowing down your cheeks as you gagged around his fingers knuckles deep in your throat.

It was a wonder your parents never suspected anything of your childhood friend, not raising the slightest question whenever he invites himself to your home for a ‘sleepover,’ as he likes to call it. But a sleepover doesn’t involve him lying next to you as he grinded his hardness over your ass, arms circling around your torso possessively as his hands grabbed and tweaked at your nipples, ignoring your silent protests and the way you futilely tried to move away from his reach.

He never fails to lean in, breaths hot against the shell of your ear, and whisper in a tone that’s so falsely pleasant it makes your stomach churn with fear, “Stop moving. You don’t want those videos getting leaked, do you?”

And like a dog that’s been trained to obey its master, you do whatever he asks of you, whether it’s opening your legs for him or getting on your knees to have your throat abused by him.

Now, he smiles like the friend he pretends he is to you when you’re with your parents, complimenting your mother over the delicious breakfast she made and making conversation with your dad about the latest project at his company.

You know what your parents think of him, that he’s such a sweet boy, so smart and charming, he’d be such a good boyfriend, don’t you think?

It always makes your throat close up, fighting the nausea that threatens to overtake your senses. They don’t know just how wrong they are, how much he’s violated your body and privacy, the blackmail he owns is a constant thing that hangs over your head in shame. The person you thought you could trust most in the entire world ended up being the person to betray you first.

Kunikuzushi was so sweet when you were children, but now you barely recognize him anymore. Not since he got involved with the wrong crowd when you were in high school, not since he started going by the name Scaramouche.

“I better go now, I promised my friends I’d meet with them later,” he tells your parents, pretending to look forlorn at the prospect of leaving. Your parents ate it all up, assuring him that he’s always welcome to return, that he can visit whenever he likes. All the while you’re sitting beside him, twisting your fingers on your lap and trying not to flinch with each word that comes out of your parents’ mouth.

A hand lands on your shoulder. It takes all you have not to rip it away.

You turn your head up to see Scaramouche standing from his seat, looking down at you with something you could almost describe as soft—still all for show. The moment you’re out of your parents’ eyesight, he’ll go back to being his cruel self.

“Will you come see me off?” He asks, but the brief tightening of his grip on your shoulder says enough. It wasn’t a request.

“Y-Yeah, of course, Kuni.” The old nickname slips off your tongue, as familiar to you as your own name. He likes to pretend it bothers him, especially when you call him that in front of others, but you know how much he likes hearing it from you. He always comes undone when you moan his name, on the few times when his hand isn’t covering your mouth or his fingers aren’t choking you.

You walk him to the front door, your parents staying seated at the table. He turns to you when he reaches the door, the smile on his lips gone, replaced with a familiar scowl that continues to haunt your dreams.

His hand closes around your jaw, fingers digging almost painfully to your cheeks. He leans in, eyes narrowed on your frightful face.

“Open your mouth.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You already know what he means to do, so you part your lips, sticking out your tongue for good measure. He likes it when he doesn’t have to say something to make you do it.

He looms over you, opening his mouth and spitting a glob of saliva directly over your tongue. It takes all you have not to shudder in disgust. Even after going through such a thing for what feels like hundreds of time, his twisted perversion never fails to make tears well in your eyes at the humiliation.

“Swallow.”

Your throat nearly protests the action. You have to force yourself not to heave after it goes smoothly down your throat.

Scaramouche’s eyes are focused intently on you, pupils blown wide and his lips stretching into a mocking smile. You jolt when he suddenly reaches down and cups your clothed cunt, having easier access to it due to the skirt that he always forces you to wear.

He steps close, and you still in order to stop any involuntary reactions from you should your movement cause his hand to produce friction against the sensitive spot between your legs.

His eyes bore into you, nearly making you shrink back from his gaze. “Don’t even think about touching yourself while I’m not there. This fucking cunt is mine.”

As if to emphasize his words, his hand applies the slightest pressure, grazing against your clit and evoking a whimper from your lips.

You nod shakily. “Yes, I-I won’t touch myself, Kuni.”

He smiles, pouring all his false saccharine sweetness into that one gesture, loosening his hold on your jaw and retracting his hand from beneath your skirt to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. It would have seemed like a gentle act — if you didn’t know any better.

“Good girl.”

✧

His friends all think you’re his little pet.

Dottore leers at you from across the table, playing with the butter knife in his hand as he twists his lips to show razor-sharp teeth. You avert your gaze hastily, a combination of fear and disgust bubbling in your gut. An amused puff of laughter is all you hear before you feel a hand tug at a lock of your hair.

“Now, who let Scaramouche’s little bitch sit with us at the table?” Comes his mocking drawl, a hint of that twisted sense of amusement in his voice. You try your best to keep your gaze fixed to the table, knowing they’ll see it as defiance should you raise your head to meet their eyes. “Don’t you know dogs belong in the kennels?“ He pulls at your hair, hard enough to make you wince. “Why don’t you—”

A hand slaps away the hand holding a strand of your hair.

“Who do you think you are to touch what’s mine?”

You risk a glance at Scaramouche sitting by your side to find him glaring at Dottore, the fork in his hand gripped so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

Dottore grins unrepentantly, retracting his hands and raising them in the air as a sign of peace. “You should teach your little pet better manners.”

“And you should learn how to mind your own business,” he sneers, stabbing his fork straight into his steak.

Dottore smirks, utterly entertained by Scaramouche’s temper, but ultimately deciding that toying with you must not be worth it.

You reach up to fix your hair, still keeping your gaze on the table. Tugging on the hem of his shirt to get his attention, you murmur when he deigns to turn his head to you, “Thank you, Kuni.”

Though it seems you weren’t as quiet as you’d hoped to be.

Tartaglia, who was sitting on your other side, snorts at the nickname.

You freeze up just as Scaramouche beside you goes still. Heart beating out of your chest, palms beginning to turn clammy, and tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, you dare to look up and see what expression he has.

Your heart drops.

He’s looking down at you, face frozen in a mask of fury, eyes wide with a promise to do unspeakable things to you later.

“Pft. You let her call you Kuni?” Tartaglia fans the flames, knowing how much trouble it’d get you. You feel his hand slither near your side, and you shrink away from his touch. You’ve always thought that if Scaramouche weren’t so terrifying, all his other friends would have forced themselves upon you by now.

Your tongue twists on itself, bottom lip trembling the way it always does whenever you so much as get a hint of his anger. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Shut up,” Scaramouche says icily, whether it’s for you or Tartaglia, you didn’t know.

He doesn’t like it when you call him Kuni in front of others. For all that he gets off of hearing your once-innocent nickname for him be said in such debauched tones accompanied by the squelching sounds of your walls squeezing around him and the slap of skin against skin, he abhors it when you call him that in front of others.

He grabs your jaw harshly with one hand, forcing you to look him in the eye and ignoring the way you whimper at how hard his grip is. From your periphery, you can see that the rest of his friends have stopped their conversation to watch your impending humiliation with a sick sense of delight.

“I thought I told you to keep that mouth shut.” He pulls you close, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from yours, breath warm against your lips. But then he leans away, roughly pushing your face away as he lets go, leaving your jaw aching and eyes watery. “Get out of my sight.”

You scramble to do as you’re told, ignoring the jeers of his friends and the pitying looks from nearby tables, nearly toppling your chair from the haste with which you stand up. You don’t see the leg that stretches out beneath you.

Your knees ache, palms red from the force as you fell to the floor. You’re sure you’ll be sporting gashes and bruises on your knees tomorrow, but it isn’t the pain that opens the dam of your tears, lips wobbling in an attempt to smother the hiccup that threatens to rise from you.

It’s the sound of laughter that echoes in your ears.

You all but run out of the cafeteria and into the restroom you always hide out in, practically feeling his gaze on your back the whole way. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine what sort of look he would have had as you tripped. Eyes leering at you, mouth twisted in a cruel mockery of a smile, and perhaps a hint of pink at his cheeks—the only sign of his arousal, proof of how much he enjoys seeing you get hurt and humiliated.

The door to an empty cubicle locks shut behind you, falling to the closed seat of the toilet and placing your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs. Even that one simple act reminded you of him, of the way he likes seeing you gag and choke around him and the way he’d push your face over the mattress to silence you, palms heavy against your lips whenever he fucked you in a public space, “You don’t want us to get caught, do you? So be quiet.”

✧

He finds you, just like he always does whenever you run away to have your little tantrums, as he calls it.

“Get out.”

You opened the door of the cubicle, ever the obedient little pet his friends like to taunt at. He’s leaning by the sink with his arms crossed, a frown fixed on his deceptively angelic face, eyes narrowing once he sees you.

Fidgeting with your fingers, you try to apologize again as sincerely as you can muster, “Kuni, I’m sorry.”

Scaramouche is at you in an instand, a hand around your neck and a dangerous look on his face, not quite squeezing but still tight enough to be threatening. Your knees lock in place, hands trembling with fear as you fought the urge to cry again with the way he’s looking at you.

“Get on your knees.”

Your eyes dart to the unlocked door, heart rate rising. Anyone could enter at any moment. He liked the thrill of defiling you on public spaces—fitting rooms, cubicles of public restrooms, the janitor’s closet—but always with an added precaution, always with the door locked.

“Someone might come in and see—”

“So what?” He rudely interrupts, squeezing his fingers around your throat just enough to be uncomfortable. Then he snickers, watching the way your eyes begin to water again. “You’re such a crybaby.”

“Kuni, please. I don’t want—”

His mouth roughly lands against yours, swallowing whatever protests you had as he roved his tongue inside your mouth, taking and taking and taking without consideration. It hurts, the way he’s pressing his lips over yours and the way his teeth bites onto your bottom lip, tongue roving over your own, making sure you taste all of him. It leaves you lightheaded and out of breath by the time he pulls away, a trail of saliva hanging between you that he doesn’t bother wiping away. Just as he likes it. Rough, messy, and filthy.

He likes seeing you covered in his own cum from head to toe, dribbling from your mouth, running down the valley of your breasts, and your pussy so stuffed full that it drips down your thighs and makes a mess beneath your feet.

You think if he could, he would keep you locked up in his room, never stepping out and only there to be used as a cum dump and admired as you lay on top of his bed with your eyes crossed in the wake of an orgasm, legs spread, cum oozing out of your hole and slipping between your ass, utterly making a mess of the sheets below.

Scaramouche laughs at your dazed look, loosening his hold on your neck, enough that you can break out should you wish it. You don’t.

“Are you actually scared?” He taunts, a grin on his lips that managed to show how truly deplorable of a person he is. “Scared that someone would walk in and see how much of a slut you really are?”

You place both palms on his wrist, looking at him imploringly through glassy eyes. “Please—”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He steps close, close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your face. Then, in a whisper that is nothing short of threatening, he tells you, “Everyone knows I’m fucking you like the little whore you are, they only need proof. Now, should I send them the video, or are you gonna get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness?”

He delights at the way your eyes dim in understanding. You can feel his hardness throb against you when you bite your lips to stop the rush of tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

You hate yourself for being so easy to be reduced to tears, but mostly you hate yourself for being unable to truly deny him anything.

His hands release their hold on your neck just as you obediently fall to your knees, looking up at him in despair. He raises a brow, gesturing to the growing hardness in his pants with a humorless smile.

Your fingers fumble to undo his zipper, pulling down his waistband and taking him in your hand. Shuddering as you began moving your hand up and down his shaft, he impatiently grabs the back of your head, fingers intertwining with your hair as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your mouth.”

With only the slightest hesitation, you part your lips for him, taking care to open them wide enough that your teeth won’t graze him. (Your jaw still aches with the memory of being forced to have him inside your mouth until your jaw nearly locked in place and you were crying, pleading with your eyes to please, please make it stop.)

Scaramouche slips inside your mouth with ease, groaning in pleasure as his cock is enveloped with a heat that only your cunt could top. He pushes all the way inside until your nose is brushing against soft tufts of hair and the tip of his length hits the back of your throat. You gag, but no amount of pushing against his thighs has him moving, watching you with pupils blown wide, his cheeks pink and breaths shaky.

“Hah… look at you, all on your knees for me. You’re probably secretly into this, being used like a toy. You’ve always been so hard-to-get, but inside you’re nothing but a slut who likes feeling my cock anywhere inside you.” He laughs, tugging at your hair and pushing himself even deeper than before.

It isn’t until a tear falls from your eye that he retracts himself, giving you only a moment’s respite before pushing your head forward, keeping a harsh but steady pace as he fucks into your mouth, bruising the back of your throat the same way he constantly abuses your insides. Thick spurts of pre-cum escape the slit of his cock, dragging across your mouth and dripping from the corners of your lips. It mixes with your drool, flowing down your chin and onto the floor, slathering his length in a transparent sheen that gathers along the base of cock as he repeatedly slams himself hilt deep into your throat.

You find it difficult to breathe, difficult to swallow, difficult to think as he continues to thrust into your mouth without abandon, his pace becoming erratic, harsh puffs of breath escaping him, and from the familiar twitch of his cock, you can tell he’s close. So you flatten your tongue along his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as best as you can, and closing your eyes to stop the tears from breaking out.

“Fuck, fuck. Look at me,” he orders, voice one pitch away from becoming breathy.

You open your eyes and gaze up at him, unable to stop the wetness that’s gathered in your eyes from falling. His hips falter, his hold on your hair tightening to the point that it makes you cry out from the pain. It only serves to pleasure him more, the vibrations from your throat sending him to the edge as he pushes himself in as far as he can go.

Thick, warm spurts of cum shoot into your mouth, a taste so familiar you barely gag as it gathers in the back of your throat. Scaramouche thrusts himself into you, once, twice, until he’s sure your mouth has finished milking him dry.

He pulls out, not bothering to tuck himself in as he moves his hand from the back of your head to your cheek, tilting your head up. And you already know what he wants you to do, so you open your mouth, let him see his cum mixed with your saliva. Your mouth is too full to keep them all in, flowing down your chin in excess and staining your shirt.

You’re unprepared for the two fingers he shoves into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag and involuntarily swallow his cum.

“That’s right, swallow it all like the cum-thirsty whore that you are,” he laughs at you, at the pathetic look you must sport — red eyes, puffy lips, and dried tear tracks on your cheeks.

He retracts his fingers from your mouth, not bothering to wipe them clean.

“Get up,” he orders, stepping away from you and approaching the sink. You stand on shaky legs, knees sore not only from the hard tiles, but also from the fall earlier.

Scaramouche gestures to the counter, his lips pulled up in a leer, roving his eyes over your figure, lingering on the stain on your chest from the cum you failed to keep in your mouth earlier. You nearly collapse by the sink, arms supporting you as you leaned your top over the counter.

His hands push the hem of your skirt up, palms lingering on the swell of your ass, before he unceremoniously pulls your panties down to your knees. You unconsciously clench down on nothing as your pussy is exposed to the cold air.

He runs a finger up and down your folds, gathering your slick and raising his hand to examine them. You finally raise your head, meeting his eyes on the mirror.

“You’re all wet. I bet you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Being used like a ragdoll. Tell me, do you touch yourself when I’m not there?” He delivers it in a nonchalant tone, but from the tightness of his fingers around your hips, you know he’s serious.

Quickly shaking your head, you try to plead that he’s the only one who’d ever touched you, voice scratchy from his earlier abuse of your throat. “I-I promise, Kuni. I’ve never—”

“Liar,” he hisses.

The only warning you have is the way he shifts, and then his cock slips inside you, far too thick and far too big, pushing through your walls and splitting you in half. The vein that runs along his shaft rubs against your insides in a way that has you clenching down at him with pleasure, even as you cry out in shock and pain at being entered without preparation.

“Fuck,” he groans, the tip of his cock touching the entrance of your womb, and you know without a doubt that he’ll continue hitting that spot later, if only to see the way you squirm and cry in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Still so fucking tight even after I’ve fucked that hole of yours so many times. Hah… if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a virgin.”

Slowly, he pulls out, relishing in the way your walls clench down on him, trying to suck him back into your heat. And when only the tip of his cock remains inside, he rams his hips into you with a force that has you choking out a sob as he hits your cervix, over and over and over again, until you can no longer distinguish between pain and pleasure. Only an endless motion of him fucking his length into you, fingers digging into your hips in a bruising grip that will no doubt show on your skin tomorrow.

“Kuni—Kuni, please… slow down—” A particularly harsh thrust has you slurring your words, arms losing balance. Your top falls onto the counter, the coolness of the cheap marble against your cheek doing nothing to chase away the heat that’s bubbling inside you, gathering in your belly and threatening to snap with every drag of his length against your cunt.

“Shut up,” he snarls, biting back a moan at how you clench down on him at the harsh order. “I can feel your sloppy little pussy sucking me in. You’re like a bitch in heat, taking my cock in like that. If you even think about letting anyone else use this fucking cunt, I’ll kill them.”

You can do nothing but nod to his words, sobbing on top of the counter as Scaramouche uses you like you’re nothing but a hole for him to fuck himself into, unrepentantly slamming his hips into your ass, blunt nails digging into your skin.

Moans and whines fill the restroom, the air smelling of sex as you cried out his name with every thrust he takes. Your mind is far away, lost in a haze of pleasure, uncaring whether your voice will be heard by any passing teacher or student, uncaring of the unlocked door and the fact that if even one person hears your cries, the whole campus will know it by tomorrow.

So lost in your thoughts as you were, you failed to notice when Scaramouche pulled out his phone and started filming, angling the camera into the sight of his cock pushing in and out of you, a ring of cream gathered at the base, the squelching sound caught by the microphone. He moans, a guttural sound that he doesn’t even try to hide, pace stuttering and hips jerking into you in short, fast thrusts.

You’re unable to hide the way tears run down your cheeks, stopping yourself from reaching your climax until he allows you to, breaths fogging against the counter and toes curling inside your shoes, legs shaking from the effort of keeping your lower half upright, along with your impending release.

“Kuni, I wanna—I wanna—” You sob, unable to form the words and resorting to incoherent babbles.

“Fuck, fuck. You’re so fucking—” Scaramouche lets go of your hip and reaches for your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the sensitive little nub that has you wailing, your hands futilely trying to muffle the loud sounds. “Go.”

Your legs spasm, walls clenching down on him so tight, he has to stop for a moment as you reach your release. Your lips part to let out a scream the way you always do when the thread snaps and your orgasm hits you, and without fail, he reaches out to cover your mouth with his palm, fingers digging into your cheeks.

He lets out a few quick jerks of his hips before he releases inside you, biting down his lip to keep himself quiet, pushing himself deep inside and making sure not a drop of his cum is wasted.

Warmth explodes inside you, as familiar as the feeling of him pulling out, feeling his cum begin to flow out of your hole.

He remains silent, breathing heavy puffs of air before he leans in, pulling your hair back and pressing an impossibly soft kiss to your temple. He holds you steady as you wobble to a stand, arms sore and knees feeling like jelly, eyes red and drool slipping over your chin.

He holds your waist in a steady grip, his arm over your stomach to support you as he helps you pull your panties up and adjust the skirt of your uniform, smoothing out any wrinkles using the palm of his hand.

You watch him do all this with half-lidded eyes, mind still hazy from your climax. Your hands are tight over his arm, trying to keep yourself upright as you lean your back on his chest, trying to catch your breath. You spy his phone lying on the counter but think nothing of it, much too focused on the familiar script of Scaramouche’s quiet aftercare.

He could be so gentle during these times. In the aftermath of his rough fucking, when all that repressed anger has been spent on you, melting away and leaving a hollow shape in his chest. You think he doesn’t know what to do when he isn’t feeling anger or satisfaction — rather, he’s forgotten how to handle feelings that he might call shallow, such as happiness and love.

Quietly, he murmurs, a stark contrast to himself just minutes ago, “I’ll buy us dinner later, just the two of us. I’ll even drive you home after.”

It’s times like these that lets you see a glimpse of his old self, the Kunikuzushi you once loved.

But then he sighs, an annoyed furrow to his brows, and the tender moment is broken.

“Get off. Can’t you stand on your own? Or are you that stupid that you can’t even function without me?”

You take a step out of his hold, legs shaky but managing to support you regardless. From the corner of your eye, you spy him swiping his phone into his pocket, far too quickly for someone attempting to be inconspicuous.

Your heart sinks at the realization of what he’s done — again — but you only have yourself to blame for being so spineless.

Scaramouche turns to you, a considering look in his eye before he reaches out to smooth your hair into something that resembles less of a bird’s nest. He sneers at you, “Don’t go around looking like an imbecile.”

His hand clamps around yours, but despite the harsh look on his face, his touch is soft. He drags you out of the restroom, not even bothering to clean up the mess you’d made in the form of a few splotches of cum mixed with drool on the floor as well as the counters. But neither do you. All that’s on your mind is his hand on yours as he pulls you through the halls.

Like this, with only the back of his head facing you, you could almost pretend you’re back to being those naive children, giggling to each other as he promised to marry you someday back in the summer of your tenth birthday.

Perhaps that’s why you continue to stay, why you’ve never told your parents about the things he’d done to you, why you suffer through humiliation after humiliation just to continue being with him. And it’s unhealthy, you know that much, and maybe you should have turned your back on him when he knocked on your bedroom window with blood on his hands and a terrified look on his sixteen year old face — the beginning of the end, that one turning point in his life that made him the way he is now.

And maybe you do blame yourself for it, for not knowing how to help him, for being so lost and young and utterly ignorant of what was brewing in his head. Maybe that’s why you continue to stay beside him, the guilt of failing him, of failing Kunikuzushi.

His hand tightens around yours when you pass by a gaggle of male students, all of them looking at you with a smirk that soon dies when they see the expression on Scaramouche’s face.

And maybe you can continue deluding and comforting yourself with the thought that you’re here with him willingly, that it’s guilt and a sense of responsibility that makes you stay — even though you know the true reason is that he has a tight leash on your neck in the form of a video he took during the first time he had you, back when he still had bright eyes and a genuine smile, back when you still believed you loved him.

5 sundays of kinktober

word count — 5.1k

taglist — @pardofeliscalico @monicahar @monikidk @sunhareskies @thearcanafan @kaeyats @luvrsthrist @xinii @w9vyy @ineedavirtualboyfriend @holynix @myheartneverbe @karasuneo @rei-vi @shuvvs @miss-fantazmagoria @bunnlatte @shironakuronatasa @leleforpresident @scaranaris-lil-niko @holy365

#not sfw #this is the spiciest fic i’ve ever written #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #fem reader #5th mass #5 sundays #kinktober #genshin kinktober

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02. Bondage/Ghost (Simon Riley)

((cw: 18+, oral f.recieving, fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, afab gender neutral reader, 2.7k word count my bad, a shitty innuendo pun))

(Ghost gives you a private training lesson in escape tactics. He didn't expect failure to be on his own behalf...)

💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡

“Now remember while you’re being timed,” Ghost says to you, “only one other person was able to get out of this their first attempt. Don’t get on your own nerves over a practice run.”

“Was it you, L.T?”

You question the man behind you, securing your wrists together against the thick post you rest your back on as you’re sitting on the floor. Despite being unable to see, you can feel how sturdy this knot is getting with how Ghost takes his time with it. Not quite cutting circulation, but damn close.

“No. That’s why I’m showing you.”

As far as you know, he’s given this particular lesson to a few people. You wonder if you can figure out who it could’ve been. That’s if he even means this specific squad. Still, in an odd way this is how he seems to be looking out for his team.

He seems finished with your wrists as he stands, walking around to the front of you with his remaining rope and kneeling in front of your feet. You watch how quick he works with his large hands wrapping the rope around your ankles and securing a tight knot. This one doesn’t seem to be as complex as the one around your wrists.

“Right. All set?”He walks off to the wall in front of you to lean himself against it.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Start.”

By instruction, you’re off to a start by getting a feel for what you’re working with. The binds on your wrists are tight, sturdy enough to question its material. You can hardly even twist your wrist in them without your skin rubbing harshly against it. It does feel like your ankles aren’t as secure as your wrist. Might be for practice sake.

If that’s as easy as he’s going at you, you’re feeling a rough time coming on. You’re putting your focus on your ankles; winding your legs about to stretch and loosen the rope. Hardly can you even shift an ankle higher than the other with how tight it is.

Your ear manages to catch an amused grunt from Ghost as he watches on. Does he find this funny? Possibly. It would fit his strange humor. You probably are looking like some amature that forgot all their previous training.

“What, am I taking too long?” You joke.

Ghost turns his wrist up to look at the watch he’s using to keep your time.

“Gettin’ close to dead,” he replies before folding his arm back in with the other and refocusing on you.

You can appreciate his little humor in this. It makes you a little less irritated with yourself. It’s starting to feel a bit embarrassing how much you're struggling vainly to kick just one boot off to get just the bind at your ankle.

Ghost, on the other hand, isn’t seeing it that way at all. He knows he has skill in this department of tying people up for interrogation and other means. Another use of this is starting to creep into his mind as he watches you struggle. Oh, this is shit timing. While he can consciously force himself to think otherwise, it isn't preventing the building heat in his stomach just watching you this way.

“Shallow grave been dug about now,” his voice breaks the silence again as he attempts more humor for his own sake. At least it gets a little laugh out of you.

Finally, the ankle of your boot is loose enough to kick off. Thank god for the small favors. You work on shoving your other boot off your heel to make more slack on the rope. As your other boot kicks off your foot, it takes most of the rope down with it, leaving you able to kick it off and start pushing yourself to stand up against the post.

“Halfway there,” He nods approvingly as he sits up from the wall he once leaned on.

A position like that wouldn’t leave you much option but to just take it, huh? Could you take Ghost like that, with a rough and merciless force? Or would you have to beg him to take it easy? You couldn’t even-Fucking hell, Simon, cut it out.

He creeps around you in a slow pace while he examines all angles of you. Yet progress isn't the thing on his mind anymore. It's wandering around the things he could do to you. The things that he could make you feel. It cycles around his head like a broken record.

Jesus Christ.

You wouldn't even be able to hide your face from him. Or cover your mouth if you start whining too loudly. Just all in his mercy...

You can feel his gaze raising the hairs of your neck as you attempt to focus on getting free. The twisting and tugging of your wrists don’t feel like they’re making them any more loose. He sure can tie a damn knot. You're still trying to focus on the task at hand despite feeling how Ghost's gaze burns into you. His undivided attention is making you feel a bit intimidated. Not necessarily bad...but nerve wrecking.

Fuck. He can feel his dick start getting harder from his gutter mind. This is an awful time for this. He remains out of your sight as clears his throat to speak up, his possible last attempt to regain himself.

“Need a tip?”

A grunt of irritation slips from you, “If you’re offering, Sir…”

“Well you’re already on the right track. Not much I can say other than remaining patient.”

A frustrated sigh escapes your nose as you let your head fall back, sort of relaxing your tenseness. It was a strangely calm tone coming from your Lieutenant. You’re unable to see the kind of look he has in his eyes as he watches you from behind, but you know he’s watching. After a pause of thought, you start trying a different move to loosen the tight bond from your wrists.

Ghost can hardly stand watching you like this anymore. You really are struggling. He knows he might have to end up letting you loose himself. It would be an awful shame letting such a good knot get cut up and wasted.

“I might have another tip for ya,” he mutters. Ghost circles around from behind to stand directly in front of you, and rather close.

“Do you, L.T?”

To your surprise, his left hand wraps its fingers around the buckle of your belt. It lifts you up off your feet and lifts you higher on the post before his pelvis pins you in place. His hands are now free to grab your legs and lift them to the sides of his hips. You feel a defined bump in the crotch of Ghost’s pants that press against you.

He looks down into your eyes, speaking in a hushed tone, “Would you like it?”

You feel a dryness in your throat as you swallow while looking up at your lieutenant, your mind going completely blank. This is what his mind was getting at? You can clearly see the arousal in his eyes now that he's up close. The same eyes that currently are studying you face for any sign of rejection here. The only thing you’re clearly able to process is the feeling of heat swimming rapidly through your body and a rock hard cock pressing against your cunt.

Without a thought in your head to go by, you speak for your body.“I would…”

One of his hands releases a thigh to pull his mask over his face and drop it to the floor, “That’s what I thought.”

Simon leans in close, letting his lips gently brush against yours as his thumb hooks around the tongue of your belt and pulls it free, snaking it from around your waist and dropping it to the floor as well. You take the initiative and lock your lips with his. He’s more than just eager to taste you. Simon follows your motions as best as he’s able with his stronger excitement, only growing as your slow and soft lips tease the thoughts brewing in his head.

While he continues to keep up with your kissing, his hips start to roll and grind his hard-on into your crotch. A groan buzzes against your lips as Simon takes pleasure in the friction he’s been growing a need for. The kiss breaks when he goes in for your neck.

Saliva hits your skin before his lips do. He couldn’t stop himself from drooling over the scent of you before he got to you. You feel yourself lowered back down to your feet with Simon kneeling to your level. Teeth graze up along the side of your neck with sloppy kisses as his hands roam, sliding under your shirt and tracing patterns on your sides with his fingertips. One of his hands decides to tease your chest with feather touches on your nipple.

He acts as if you’re slipping away from him with the way he keeps you so close, even when you’re restrained like this. Hips grinding roughly into you as he marks your tender skin with love. The sensations building together are making soft sighs slip your lips while a throbbing grows between your legs. Simon's hands are sliding lower, lower, his lips moving to your stomach to scatter more marks. The button of your pants is undone.

He doesn’t have the patience to take your pants off completely. Simon is already on his knees lapping the sticky trail pooling juices up from your folds before your underwear fully drops to your knees. His eager tongue grazes your entrance slowly, slathering your clit in your own cream. A growl of satisfaction rumbles in the throat of the man between your legs as he repeats the motion. He shoves tongue deeper between your folds, then sucks your lingering sweetness off your throbbing bud. Your thighs jolt in response, making his grip around them more firm.

Simon starts taking your clit in his mouth, swirling and flicking around it before letting it slip from his lips with a pop. His tongue dives back in again to your hole, back up to your clit and again;desperate to keep you satisfied enough to quench his growing thirst for your pussy. He’s not shy about his shameless and greedy behavior. There’s an undoubtable look of hunger in his focused gaze.

“God, you taste amazing,” Simon groans under his breath. Your pants are tugged down to your ankles and removed, getting tossed to the side somewhere while the hand gripping your thigh lifts it onto his shoulder for better access.

He maneuvers his other hand between your legs, tracing your dripping cunt with two fingers as he keeps your clit in his mouth. Your breathing picks up as one of his thick fingers slides in and immediately starts working in deep circular motions. A swelling feeling begind to build in your lower stomach as Simon keeps his tongue working. By reflex your arms start to tug at your restraints to no avail as your whining becomes harder to just let out in quiet sighs.

“Mm…what a fucking mess you’re making…”

A second finger slips into your cunt. Simon watches you with an amused gaze as you shake under the pleasure, moaning and squirming with your eyes shut tight before he goes back in with his mouth. His fingers shove themselves deep in your slick hole and curl upwards as they drag back out all while his tongue flicks against your clit. The shaking from your legs is making them buckle underneath the pleasure of the pressure in your stomach. Simon’s grip on your thigh holds your steady enough to stand for his tongue torture.

The fingers suddenly slowing to a stop halt the building pressure. Your eyes fully open to Simon sucking your juices from his fingers as he lets your thigh down.

“Simon–” you whimper out.

He keeps eye contact as he stands while pulling the tongue of his belt out, tugging it off his waist and popping the button of his pants open. His thick cock springs up as soon as his pants drop lower, unrestricted from any underwear. It's aching for relief.

“I want you to cum on my dick, _____.”

You keep your eyes on him as his hands grab hold of your ass and lift you up to level him better. The anticipation in your chest swells as his tip grazes your wet cunt while you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to you. That thick cock of his takes its time stuffing itself into your throbbing pussy that greedily swallows him to the hilt. Simon’s grip on your ass tightens as the hot sensation sucks him in with a low growl.

“You alright?” He asks for your permission to move.

At your given signal, an eager nod, that once faded pressure in your stomach starts to build again with Simon’s slow grinding. It’s just perfect to adjust yourself to his thick girth, but god, is it almost torture for Simon. He’s still much more excited than you. His thoughts are swirling around how you would look taking a real pounding from his cock. All this potential to just ruin you right in his hands is almost too much.

The only thing keeping him is how sweet your little sounds are from his slow, sensual movement. He keeps himself close enough to bump noses, warm your face with his deep sighs, and occasionally lips catching for a quick embrace. Between your mewling, Simon’s name slips from your lips, making the man’s stomach flutter with the way it sounds from you.

“Fuck me…” he curses to himself as he dips his head into the crook of your neck, taking his lips against your skin once more to leave darker love marks, “you look so good takin’ my cock like this…”

Simon readjusts the position to hold you up better by pushing your knees up to your chest and letting the post support your back more as he holds you up. The new angle makes his cock drive deeper, grinding just right into your spot and ramming into your cervix. That first thrust hits so good it makes you yelp.

Oh, is Simon just starving for just that sound.

"Yeah? You like that?"Simon draws out his pace, but starts slamming his hips into you harder, "Just like that?"

He relishes in watching your face wash over with more pleasure as he fucks those beautiful sounds out of your mouth. He doesn’t give a shit if you’re getting so loud. The sounds of you echoing off the walls of the room are driving him insane.

“Mmhm…tell me how you like it,” he growls in your ear, pressing his cheek against yours to listen to your needy whimpers as close as he can.

“s-so good, Simon–”

The sound of your stutter slurring over itself pushes Simon to pick up a rougher pace with you. It’s just what he wanted to hear. You getting fucked so close into an incohearant mess. He wants more. He wants his ears filled with nothing but the loud sounds of slapping, wet skin and your whorish cries. He can feel your pussy getting tighter around him, sucking him back in more and more.

“You’re gonna cum on this dick for me, love? That what I'm hearin'?”

Between your quivering screams of pleasure, you can’t give Simon a verbal answer. The pressure inside your stomach pops like a balloon, with each of Simon’s thrusts milking a mess of sap that spills all between your legs. The scent of your messy juices is enough to make his mouth water. It pushes him completely overboard.

“F-Fuck–yeah, that’s it—fuck—”

He shuts his eyes tight as he allows himself a few more seconds inside your throbbing pussy before he pulls himself out. Ropes of cum shoot on your inner thigh and on your lower stomach while groans of ecstasy rumble in his throat. Your shaking legs are held up just barely by Simon’s own trembling hands. His cock slowly rubs against your soaked pussy to draw your orgasms out.

“Christ…____…you still stuck?"

Through your attempts to catch your breath, you manage to say, “Take a wild guess, Simon.”

“Oh, real shame…” he responds, “I’ll let you have your own wild guess on what will happen when I choose not to cut ya loose…”

💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #modern warfare ii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #n/sfw #ghost nsft #goodness gracious this was a handful i dont know what got into me #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[loganwritesprobably]

October Writing 2023

So, I'm going to be partaking in a few of the October Writing Challenges this year. I've never done it before, and decided to mix prompts from various places to help avoiding burn out! I'm going to be posting everything in a series over on AO3 (link at the end) but I wanted to share here and list out my plans for the challenge!

1) Honourbound - Angstober - Zoro & Luffy 2) "Don’t worry, I got you.” - Fictober - Derek & Garcia 3) Bukkake - Kinktober - Loki/Reader/Tony 4) Hate sex - Kinktober - Tony/Loki 5) “You’re the smartest person I know.” - Fictober - Malia/Lydia 6) First kiss - SFW - Peter P/Reader 7) Porch swing - Flufftober - Mycroft/Reader 8) Breeding - Kinktober - Peter/Reader 9) “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” - Fictober - Stiles/Peter 10) Love of my life - Flufftober - Theo/Liam 11) Shopping - SFW - Malia & Allison & Lydia & Erica 12) “I’m not saying I didn’t like it.” & somno - Fic/Kinktober - Not sure yet for this one 13) From childhood - Angstober - Shanks/Buggy 14) Back scratching - Flufftober - Derek/Stiles 15) Emergency, confession - Flufftober - Sherlock/Moriarty 16) DP - Kinktober - Steve/Loki/Tony 17) Cooking/sharing food - SFW - Sanji & Crew 18) Sickfic - SFW - Malia/Lydia 19) Look away - Angstober - Loki/Steve 20) Showering - SFW - Peter/Deucalion 21) “Just in case this doesn’t work.” - Fictober - Isaac/Erica/Theo 22) “Who takes care of you?” - Fictober - Scott & Stiles 23) Makeup - SFW - Nat & Loki 24) “Is it over? Is it really over?” - Fictober - Peter P & Tony 25) Tired of fighting - Angstober - Derek 26) Fireplace - Flufftober - Sherlock & John 27) Helping button/zip - SFW - Zoro/Sanji 28) Daddy kink - Kinktober - Derek/Noah 29) Self-love/self-care - Flufftober - Spencer & Garcia 30) “Are you with me?” - Fictober - Peter/Chris 31) “It’s not your fault.” - Fictober - Derek & Peter & Cora

A mix of fandoms, and slash vs platonic content. I'm looking forward to trying to get everything done!

#kinktober #flufftober #fictober #sfw kinktober #angstober #october writing #one piece #teen wolf #bbc sherlock #criminal minds #mcu

[narrators-journal]

For the Lovecraft ask can we add breeding kink and squirting and maybe size kink and belly bulge

Also maybe reader is his wife and she’s turned on by him

I just kinda went wild with your prompt ngl. Lovecraft is still reader’s husband, and she’s still turned on by him! But I wrote this less as a bsd-exclusive kinktober-style fic, and leaned into the monsterfucking aspect to just GO HAM on the tentacles and monster angle. So yes, this is Lovecraft x reader, but it’s also kinda able to be read as a general monster smut. Which, was fun to write! Sorry if I went a bit light on some things, or it’s not quite to your liking on the details, this is sort of my toe back in the water after kinktober.

Thankfully it’s not as bad as last year, but ya still gotta give yourself some leniency after a challenge, y’know?

CW: teratophilia, sacrificing, tentacles, possible oviposition? U can kinda ignore that tbh, but it’s there. Breeding kink is lightly impied, size difference is also implied, squirting

It was an ancient, possibly outdated tradition, to sacrifice women to a god in exchange for a good harvest. Yet, ever since you could remember, each spring had been marked by the offering of a fertile woman to the god of the sea your town relied on. Normally, said woman was on the younger side, around eighteen to twenty for the best fertility chances, but your grandmother had always warned you that standards were likely to change. So, as you bathed and mentally prepared for whatever happened to the sacrificial brides of your god, you weren’t surprised at your position.

You weren’t a virgin, nor were you eighteen, or even twenty, in fact, you’d gotten married before you had been chosen to be this year’s sacrifice. Yet, there you were. Your hands being tied behind your back by your husband before you were walked down to the beach, nude, to await your new ‘husband’.

Like any other sacrifice to your town’s god, you had been tied to the edge of the dock. Your hands bound behind you, your foot tied firmly to one of the sturdy supports. So, all you could really do was sit on the rough wood of the water-warped platform and listen to the waves lazily lapping at the sand beneath the dark, star-speckled night sky.

However, it wasn’t more than two hours max before you first spotted an odd, slow movement in the water. Too slow for it to be some sort of person, but too big to be a fish. It’s okay, You told yourself as you watched the form approach and sink into the glittering soup before you, Brides don’t always turn up dead. It’ll probably be okay, no matter what happens.

With that, you took a deep breath to calm the knot of anxiety that formed in your chest. Yet,when you felt the cold, watery slime of a tentacle’s smooth skin against your own, you still jumped and attempted to scramble away. Yet, there was little you could do beyond scoot as far from the edge of the dock as your tether allowed. Not that your nerves did much to dissuade more green tentacles from rising out of the water to snake around your ankles and wrists, or around your waist to trap you in place. To hold you hostage while more tentacles emerged from the cool sea water to explore your nude body. It was disgusting.

Yet, at the same time, it was thrilling.

Ever since you were little, you had heard tales and rumors about all of the many things that might happen to the ‘brides’ your town offered to the sea god in exchange for the plentiful fish, including the exact situation you now sat in. But, in those past years until your own eighteenth birthday had passed, some part of you had always feared the possibility of becoming the sea god’s bride.

However, when you’d passed eighteen and gotten married, that fear had gone dormant. But, it hadn’t left completely. After all, how could a woman ever put to rest the anxiety of being one bad flu season away from being chosen to risk being torn to shreds or split in half?

Only to find, that the slow slide of tentacles, and the gentle kisses of their suction cups against your nipples or the tender skin of your inner thigh didn’t disgust or scare you as much as you had expected. Instead, they excited you.

Even when a rather meaty tentacle slipped between your legs to prod at your dampening cunt, the pressure of it against your folds sent lightning through your blood, and the stretch of it pushing into you was enough to wipe away the fears and earn a lewd noise. And while yes, you weren’t a virgin, as hardships had left sacrificial options too slim to offer an eighteen-year-old woman and ensure something like that, there was simply something far more exciting than your human husband could achieve.

Yet, that didn’t keep the tentacle from settling deep within you, creating a bit of a bulge in your belly while your muscles twitched and stretched to accommodate the growing girth of the appendage within you. Nor, did it stop the tentacle when it began to move.

In. Out. In. Out. The tentacle’s movements within you were slow. Curious, almost. The odd, slick appendage somehow able to brush against and find each of your sweet spots as it pushed deeper into you to explore every inch of your gummy walls. And, while the monster you had been sacrificed to didn’t seem interested in your pleasure, the tentacle’s slow, thorough thrusts and flexes still managed to draw lewd moans out into the warm night’s air. Oh god, why does this feel so good? You managed to think while your back arched off of the rough wood of the dock you laid on into the inquisitive caress and attention of the tentacles that still squeezed and toyed with your breasts. Feeding the fire in your veins that you tried to ignore, even as the more primal, needy part of you begged, More. More! I feel too good. I need more! In a shameful plea for that pleasure to continue to be indulged.

And, as if the god had read those deep, lust-addled thoughts, the tentacles that snaked around your breasts and toyed with your nipples squeezed your mounds and the thicker tendril that stretched your cunt so deliciously flexed against that special spot within you. Pulling another, louder cry of desire from your throat with the force of the lightning it sent hurdling through you. Yet, even as your blood screamed with need, and the chill of the water-cooled tentacles that held your wrists and legs down were the only things keeping your small body from combusting, your new husband kept going. “Hah! W-wait! Hold on!”You begged into the spring night’s air, able to feel the tell-tale tightening of your muscles with each brush of that thick tendril against your g-spot. “I-I’m gonna- ngh!- going to c-cum! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed, no longer scared of your fellow townsfolk hearing your blissful calls over the waves when your euphoria crashed down upon you with such force that your juices squirted out slightly.

Though, your pleasure didn’t end with the deviant pleasure. You merely got a brief break from the friction, as the tentacle that sat buried in you stilled to let you stare up into the colorful night sky and catch your breath. And, for a second, you thought your monster husband had somehow sensed that you had orgasmed and was going to stop or at least pause their movements. However, the tentacle only paused for a moment, before you felt the already thick girth of the tendril move more within you.

Not to continue fucking into your twitching entrance, though, but to push something into you. The...egg? Capable of being felt as it slid down the length of the tentacle to settle into your womb. Followed quickly by more and more masses being pumped into your belly to the point that your belly began to look bloated. Not that you minded, though. You simply laid on the dock, listening to the waves lap against the supports beneath you while the tentacles kept hold of your limbs until your monstrous husband was satisfied with how plump your belly had gotten. Only then, did those strong tendrils finally release you to lay on the dock beneath the stars. Exhausted, slimy, and bred.

#bsd #Bungo stray dogs #Lovecraft x reader #x reader #monster x reader #spicy #lemon #ask #tentacles #Hp lovecraft #kinktober #not sfw #monster spice

[angry-trashcan]

Kinktober

Day 5

Collaring with Twilight

N/SFW. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Usage of feminine words such as “girl”

You tugged at the leather around your throat, swallowing harder. “Are you… sure about this, Twi?”

“Positive. Now come on, get on ya knees for me.” He tugged at the metal chain attached to the collar, jerking you forward slightly. Your knees hit the floor one after the other, your head being forced up to look at him by the same chain wrapped tightly in his hands. “Good girl… now go on. Ya know what I need from ya.”

You attempted to nod, before lifting your hands up to his waist band, pulling his pants down until they fell to his ankles. When you went for his boxers, he stopped you with another tug. “Nuh uh, leave those on.” Eyes met back at the large bulge growing in them. “Whatcha waitin’ on down there? We ain’t got time for the grass to grow.”

Your mouth opened and you took the stretched fabric into your mouth, biting down ever so lightly to give some pressure. He gasped, tugging the chain to take your mouth away from him. “No teeth, be nice to me now, Darlin’.” You let out a frustrated breath, taking it back into your mouth, this time licking at what seemed to be the side of his dick. After a moment, a large wet spot had formed where you were working. You placed a kiss to it before looking up at Twilight’s face.

His mouth was slightly agape as he watched the scene beneath him. “Good girl, good fucking girl.” He pulled it hard, bringing you to your feet infront of him. Before you could react, you were shoved over onto the bed, ass up and chain pulling your head back to where your whole back arched. Vision started to blur over at the lack of oxygen when he pushed himself into you.

“Now, keep bein’ a good girl and hold fuckin’ still for me.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #lu #linked universe #LU Twilight x reader #LU smut #lu twilight smut #n/sfw

[vampcubus]

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : my second attempt at kinktober! i'm only doing half the prompts this time around to make it more manageable for my adhd self, but in the very likely event that i don't finish all the prompts on time, they'll be completed in the following months!

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 : all fics will feature a dom!reader x sub!character dynamic (with a female!reader or afab gn!reader), minors and ageless blogs are not permitted to interact and will be blocked on sight ‹𝟹

· ｡⋆ ❥ ˚ 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝟏

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

title : lamb synopsis : you find a wee lamb snooping around where he doesn't belong. cw : mean dom!fem!reader, modern au, spit kink/spitting, finger sucking, light master kink, light oral fixation, spit as lube, dacryphilia, overstimulation, degradation, sadism/masochism, pet name (lamb), fingering (m!receiving), cumming in pants/untouched, referenced stalking.

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟓 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍! 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟕 𝐏𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

· ｡⋆ ❥ ˚ 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝟐

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟗 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟏 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 & 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟑 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐘 : 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐉𝐈

· ｡⋆ ❥ ˚ 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝟑

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟓 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 & 𝐖𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟕 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 : 𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟗 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊/𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 : 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 : 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐔! 𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐀

· ｡⋆ ❥ ˚ 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝟒

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟑 ����𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 : 𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 & 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟓 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊/𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐗 : 𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟕 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 : 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐀

· ｡⋆ ❥ ˚ 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝟓

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟗 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 : 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑𝟏 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄 : 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 & 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #sub!kny #sub kny #sub demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #dom!reader #dom reader #n/sfw