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#tw.marking
iwaasfairy · 6 months
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┌─ “ ! „ SPARKSTONE
tw. blood kink, noncon, pain play, lashing/whipping, toji’s foul n mean, degradation, prostitution, daddy kink, kinda size kink as always w me heheghe wordcount. 4.6k
a/n. thank you a million to the loveliest friends who always keep me goin when i'm having a hard timEEE rhi, wil and dymmiEE thanK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR betaing ily so much ♡ i hope i did the big man justice he is so yucky n i love it,, also extra shOutout n love dym bc she gave me the vision i saw i came i had to have it so !! iLY ILY ILY
fushiguro toji x fem!reader
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If you know one thing from your years hiding in the shadows of the more powerful, it’s that danger has a taste. It sticks to your skin, longing for an opening. And tightens around your organs as you swallow it down, setting your hairs on end. Instinctually, humans know danger when they sense it, and by that same measure, they’re usually smart enough to hide before they get found. You might be simple prey in the eyes of the strong, but you hate the feeling deeply, and avoid it where you can.
You’re always aware of eyes that trail you, and you can smell it in the air.
The burgundy walls and nice chandelier bloom like a flower when it gets dark out. It fits the business. Like moths to a flame, that warmth lures men with a promise of a warm body and expert secrecy, and usually that’s plenty. Luckily for you, most of them leave before their wives start to wonder, which means you don’t have to deal with the drunk and impatient by the time you come in for a shift by early morning. Your days are easy, if you pretend you don’t know what types of people stumble home from their rooms in the seedier back of the building. Smelling of booze and body fluids and most of all, sex. That’s how it is.
Sorcerers are people too, by your cousin’s words. He’s not wrong. By the types of people that come in and out of the doors day and night, he made a smart investment starting this place a few years ago, and you’re grateful to get to work here. There’s no place for small-fry cursed energy users out in the daylight— and you’re not exactly dying to lay your life down for others in the first place. It’s this, or even less savory jobs for those people like you, who see things that others don’t. You’re more than happy with a simple life sitting behind the front desk, and going home to crash before the grosser individuals have a chance to harass you.
Which is why your skin itches a bit when the soft cling of the bell sounds so late it’s early. You’ve barely had enough time to open the doors. For not the first time, there’s a soft buzz of a warning sign that greets you as you sigh. Isn’t 5 in the morning a little early for even the more degenerate types? You get up to hang your jacket in the back room as you hear heavy steps make it into the foyer, and swallow. The slight pulling of cold under your skin has your lips pressed tight, swallowing. They don’t ring the bell, don’t yell or break things, don’t even talk. But they also don’t turn to leave.
So you smooth your hands down your pants, and eventually walk back to your spot behind the counter. It’s still dark out, still has the uncomfortable pressure that lingers as you cast a quick glance around the room.
And all you see is eyes that pull a cold shiver up your spine so quick it freezes you in place. The dark figure is splayed out with his arms over one of the couches, but those sharp eyes don’t move an inch from you when you meet them. Narrowed in their cold, metal blue darkness, and all-consuming. The man is not young, not old - but definitely older than you, scarred and quiet, and you can’t help it- when that foul, dangerous taste wells up in your mouth in the form of saliva.
After only a few seconds, you grab the phone and ring a number one, taking it off the horn for your own safety. It rings as the man gets up with a sigh and walks towards you, only leaving the space of the desk between you two. There's a soft mumble on the other side of the call, but because the horn is pressed to your desk, you can’t make out exactly what’s said before the customer - you assume he’s a customer, judging by the foul sort of stench of death that follows him around - clears his voice.
Only a sorcerer can have that sort of smell, and no sorcerer would enter here if not out for one thing. You don’t normally do intake, you realize as your hand trembles just slightly. You leave the horn of the phone for a pen instead, and try to rid your throat of the thick block that pushes on your windpipe. “Welcome. How can I help you?”
The man’s hair is messy, lazy, much like his clothing is; and he takes a moment to look around before his eyes flick to the stack of notes before you, the phone, and then you again. “Ah, uhm. Are there rooms open this late? Or early, I guess.” He ends up saying, a bored sort of lilt to his deep voice. You can’t even meet his eyes, but you can feel the painfully intense stare that doesn’t move from you again as you put on your best smile.
“There- should be, yes. Hmm, let’s see. Do you have a preferred girl you’d like to see here today?” Your hand only stops shaking when you press the tip of the pen to paper, if only to give your hand something to do as you quickly flick between the pages of the book.
“Not really.” He runs his hand under his nose, before leaning both forearms onto the desk and invading your space too much. You barely resist the urge to jerk back entirely, and feel the heat travel between you two. See, you were never able to fight curses. But you did always have a good nose, and his presence is like maggots crawling around under your skin. It’s unbearable. Your lids flutter as you stop flicking, and just focus on not throwing up entirely. Every part of him stinks of rot, oozing danger enough to suffocate you.
You simply pick one of the names at random, and start digging through the shelf for the correct key as fast as you can. Your heart hammers in your chest like that of a hummingbird, and is almost loud enough to keep you from hearing him when he speaks again. You can’t quite bear to meet his gaze, but one look up at his mouth reveals a tiny sort of curl to his lips that’s just as upsetting as the stench that swirls around the room. Everything feels wrong, and you want to stop yourself from hurling your guts out over the table. The man taps his finger on the counter a few times. “Are you new?”
Your head shakes faster than you can think about the answer. It wouldn’t be of any use lying anyway. For some reason, you feel like he’d be able to see right through you. When you finally find the right key, you feel like a weight lifts from your chest, and you slide it across the stone towards him. “I always work the morning shift, I don’t do nights.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t need to say anything else. Only when you slide the paper form across the table too,  do you notice the call has disconnected - you’re not sure for how long - and you manage to force your eyes up to face him for just long enough not to seem impolite. But your blood still feels uncomfortable and itchy, even when he slowly picks up the pen and starts writing his name down at the top of the form. After a few seconds, he clicks the pen to his chin, and looks down at you with a coy smile as he straightens up. “Actually, what about you? You’re a skittish, little thing, and I have a bit of a hunger for something light and fresh today— I had the longest night ever.”
His scar pulls when the smile gets a bit more predatory, and you feel pinned in place like an insect under a magnifying glass when he aims the pen at you. “Looks like you’re a good listener, sweet girl.”
“I- I-” you start, stepping back until your back hits the wall and even then, there’s not nearly enough space between you and him, “I just work as a receptionist. I don’t do-” You might puke after all. Those eyes only seem to get wider when your bottom lip wobbles, and you feel the sick sense of glee he gets rather than see it. You don’t think -no, you know- you couldn’t take him in a fight, but still your fists ball up tight.
The lift dings though, to your relief, and a familiar face rushes out to give you an up and down. Your cousin’s got a bed head, deep grooves under his eyes as he jogs up beside you. “What the hell, you’re fine! When you didn’t respond on the phone I thought something might’ve happened to you.” You can’t say anything back, but you’re so glad to see him your mouth drops open and a little whimper comes out of your throat despite yourself. The young man frowns, before glancing to his side and - pauses. You can’t exactly place the expression he gets, but he must feel what you’re still feeling laced in the air, because he blinks a few times before taking a step back. “What’s this?”
“I was just telling him I’m- o-only a front desk worker,” you start, shuffling uncomfortably when those steely eyes find your body, giving you an awfully unsubtle once over. Pig. He doesn’t even bother to hide the way he’s undressing you with his eyes. Your cousin thankfully hums in agreement, and crosses his arms over his chest. “So-”
The brazen noiret doesn’t hesitate to nod though. And the confident tone from earlier doesn’t waver a bit. It’s like he’s barely inconvenienced by your statement at all. Like you’re playing hard to get. You’re not. "That's fine by me. But I’m going to be the exception.” Under his sloppy clothing, there’s no doubt he’s fit. He’s tall, and obviously wired with thick muscle that makes his shirt cling to his biceps, even more when he crosses over the furniture to reach a hand out to you, and make your shivers so much worse. “Come, little deer. I’m gonna have some fun with you.”
Your cousin places a hand on the other man’s shoulder though. “She’s not that kind of employee, sir. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, or else-”
“Or else what?” You swear you can feel a pin drop when his eyes finally move away from you, now at the other man. Your heart still beats wildly. “How about this, huh. You let me play with your little friend here, and I’ll decide not to kill you, her and then everyone in here for making my long night even longer.” He doesn’t even have to straighten up for you to feel like he means it. Even without flashing a weapon, or pulling out some fancy cursed technique, do you feel the increase in thick waves of tension; drowning you in that same, rotting stench of incoming disaster. You can’t ignore it, can’t do anything but gasp shallow, little breaths when he does round on your family, squaring up to him.
Though they’re both about as tall, the stranger’s built like a brick wall. He must know that, because he laughs. “I’ll be very nice to her, don’t worry.” His eyes tell everyone daring to take a peek that he doesn’t mean it, but at least you don’t flinch when he looks at you this time. Ah, that’s right. You really do hate sorcerers. The black haired man walks past to come grab your arm, and tosses the key you provided him earlier high into the air before catching it. It instantly is too tight, and hurts. You plant your heels into the floor, hang back with your whole body. You want to scream. Your other hand claws at his strong palm -wrung like a vice around your wrist- and you start to whimper.
“N-wait, let me go. I don’t work here like that, I- leave me alone, let me go!” You get pulled along anyway, like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum; he yanks you with barely any effort and sends you stumbling behind him. “No, I don’t want- aniki! Aniki, tell him- I’m not- I’m not for sale.” Hair whips around as you try to plead with the man left standing in the lobby, but though he looks guilt-stricken and apologetic, he doesn’t move from his spot. You don’t have a say in the way the man dressed in all black drags you behind, even when you try to make yourself dead weight and stop him. “No, no, no, wait, please! Kou aniki! Kou~ help me!”
You get it.
“Let me go! Let me go, pl-please! Hck.” Your voice breaks when wetness spills down to your hot cheeks. Really, you do get it. But the lamb still spooks when presented with the gun, even if it doesn’t run.
You’re sat on the edge of the bed as tears run down your cheeks and drip off your nose.
You can’t imagine it makes for a very appealing sight, but whether it’s indifference or sexual gratification, it’s clear your grief doesn’t matter to him. Toji, he said his name is, but you only know that ‘so you can cry it later’. It makes you sick - the sight of him makes you want to dig your nails into your own palms until you bleed. This is how it is for the weak everywhere, right? Sit and wait to die. As the cold embraces your body again, you sniffle, but wipe the tears away. You’re not a fan of waiting.
If he’s going to do it, better do it quick. Before you decide to start biting anyway. The dim lighting of the reddish room doesn’t do anything to warm the mood except make you even more aware of him as he kicks off sandals, slowly, demanding attention. He stares you down like a predator keeps an eye on his prey. The scent is still suffocating, but there’s a more alarming feeling blanketing your senses now. You’re scared. There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s in the goosebumps on your skin as he walks closer, and you scoot back onto the soft mattress to avert your eyes to yourself.
You’d rather go out kicking and screaming- but with your fear ran so high, you settle for the second best thing. “So, you’re not going to kill everyone, but just me, huh?” He’s taking off his belt as you ball your hands in the fabric, and force yourself to watch him under heavy lashes, with as much hatred as you can. “You like that? Scaring girls half your size?” You’re not sure either why you’re running your mouth. It must be the high of incoming death. “Does that make you feel powerful?” He doesn’t even pause, and pulls his shirt over his head to drop it aside too, then licks his lips.
After a slight moment of silence, he just shrugs. “Yeah. It does.” You scramble back until you reach the head of the bed, and pull your knees to your body. And the man crawls closer anyway, reaching to grab one of your ankles and drag you back. You don’t know why you’re struggling. It’d be easier if you laid down and died. As if reading your mind, he chuckles as he yanks you down until you’re spread out on your back, and pins you in place beneath his heavy body. “Don’t be so frightened. I’m not actually going to kill you.” He pushes over you, and makes sure you’re nose to nose when he talks next, basically drooling as you try to escape from him. “Just going to hurt you pretty bad. Don’t you like that?”
You struggle against him, but it’s not enough. He ties your hands to the bed painfully tight, letting the frayed edge of the rope burn into your skin each time you move- and proceeds to cut your clothes off with the knife that was hidden in his waistband. The torturous pace at which he does everything is almost worse, setting your entire body on end with anticipation. You thrash against him as he places a thigh either side of your body, and grabs your face in a large, rough hand. Once again you feel reminded that you’re really nothing in the face of someone more powerful. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying, and hurtful, and a migraine starts gnawing at your head as you glare up at him. And he almost pouts at you in mockery. “It’s cute that you’re trying so hard. You can cry, you know?” He leans in to lick along the shell of your ear down to your neck. “It’s going to happen sooner or later anyway. Why deny yourself?”
The hot touch of his tongue sears into your skin like it’s poison. You try to pull your wrists loose again, to no avail. The skin just feels achy and burning. “That’s really what you want to do, right? Cry for mommy and daddy to save you?” When he pushes back up to your mouth, laying his filthy lips on you again, you’re quicker than you think - and actually manage to bite him. It’s not enough to cause much damage before he jerks back, clenching one hand over your mouth to shut you up. But he runs a thumb along his bottom lip, and slowly starts grinning. Blood glitters on that finger before he licks it away, and raises his dark eyebrows at you. “Aren’t you brave…”
Before you have time to prepare yourself, that heavy palm meets your cheek, stinging it all over and rushing blood to the surface — it’s hard enough to pull real tears out of you, and your nose to start running as you bury your face into your arm. The sting spreads under the surface like fire. The low chuckle he lets out is mean and predatory, definitely when he takes that as an opening to start groping you through your bra, and soon that’s shoved up too to let him pet all over you. “Good. I don’t have to feel bad about all this, then.”
“Mh- hck-,” you whimper, trying to ignore the painful tugs he gives your nipples, pinching you. It still sends heat to your belly, and somehow that’s the most embarrassing thing of all. You hate him. More than anyone. “I-”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. I won’t believe you anyway.” He quickly whispers back, leaning in to force his mouth to yours and kiss you, tongue pushing against your teeth until you give in. He tastes like blood. His own, from the cut that’s not yet closed up; and he kisses like he’s trying to consume you. Rough hands knead and toy with your tits until you start squirming, before they glide down and make enough space to peel your panties down your thighs torturously slow. “Ahh, you look good like this. So pretty. Stay there.” He chuckles to himself as he gets up and you whine, not for him, but more his dragging it out. It’s not like you have a choice about staying…
When he comes back to you, something cold makes you jerk your eyes open. It’s something long and capped metal at the end, not sharp enough to stab you clean through— but it’s still hard and sharp and anxiety has you freezing below him. “Wh- what, what are you-” Would anyone even come help if you screamed? 
Toji slaps the thing into his palm a few times, before those mean eyes glide over you, and you find yourself crossing your legs tight to protect your most sensitive areas instinctively. The sound of the metal whipping through the air is more than enough to put fear into you. Your lip trembles when he gets back onto the bed, and mirth plays in his eyes. “This is going to hurt.” Then he whips his hand down and instantly, your eyes shoot open with pain. Blood splatters as he cuts you open, each impact leaving a cut and nasty thumping that will make a bruise, telltale sign of a cursed tool.
“Ack- no, no- please stop! Stop, stop, please! Please, it hurts! It hurts!” Your eyes clench shut, but tears well up and come out anyway, making tracks down your cheeks. It stings so bad, and after even just a few lashings, you can’t stand it. Everything’s glowing and burning, hot all over as your knees knock together. Another whip has you trying to pull your arms out harder, to no avail. You don’t want to look, but the pain in your hands tells you that the heat running down your arm must be blood. Didn’t he say he wasn’t going to kill you? “Please, please, Toji. I’ll do anything! Anything, please- j-just no more.”
“I refuse.”
“Please~” you sob, only opening your eyes to see how he stands bent over you with his tongue caught between his teeth, head tilted in curiosity like a dog. The whip is dripping red, hot blood down onto his hands, and though it seems impossible to have so much blood coating everything- it’s yours, right? He stays quiet for a moment or two, and the thick tears wobble over your vision. “Please, I don’t want to die. Please. Please. I’m -” your throat closes up when he leans his heavy weight down over you and hovers his lips over your mouth, “I’m beg-begging you.” One hand comes up to grab your face, and he buries his nose into your throat, where a wet tongue starts swiping along your skin.
The soft groan he lets out is foul, coming back up with his mouth full of your blood, and he grins. “Keep going. Beg like a good girl~” Then he dips down, forcing his tongue and the coppery, familiar taste into your mouth, melting his lips to yours as he hums. His strong chest meets your naked, pitiful form as one hand comes down to yank your leg up around him, and the kissing gets more distracting, warmer, deeper — you want him to stay just like this. “Keep talking,” he whispers again, lower this time, and when you’re opening your eyes his stained hands are back to kneading your tits. “You’re sort of cute covered like this, whining like a baby. C’mon.”
Red’s covering everything. Every cut on your body is searing and tight and painful, and he’s pushing his thumbs along the closing wounds as if he’s trying to leak every last drop out of you; but you can’t really feel it. It must be adrenaline you feel coursing through your veins like a drug, goading your heart into pumping so hard you can see it bounce through the skin. “Pl-please.” Your chest rattles, as he watches you. As he degrades you, lifting both your legs up to your chest to spread you for him. “Please, Toji. Please f-fuck me instead. I w- need you to.” He takes the knife used to cut off your clothes, and ever so slowly drags it along the supple inside of your thighs.
And though you jerk, and your jaw clenches while tears fall, you can’t help it. You’re shaking your head, but your pussy clenches around nothing. “Please, please, need you. I’m sorry, I want- I want it. I wan’it… daddy.” Despite the short inhale he takes, sharp eyes pinning you beneath him like the crying mess you are, it’s not his reaction that has you blushing, heat filling your entire face with that cottony feeling. You’re so fucking weak. It’s pathetic.
“Hah,” he snorts when watching you wiggle and cry, presenting your wet, little hole to him, “whiny brat.” His hand lands onto your pussy and it makes you jerk again, squirming against his strong grip, before he turns his palm to grind into your clit and his fingers teasing into the soft folds. The wet squelching doesn’t stop the stinging tingling down your entire body, but - it’s also so unfair. You can feel yourself drip as his thick fingers slide in and out of you again and again, pushing into your plush walls just right. “Call out for daddy, go on.” You don’t want to know how much of it is blood, or how much is your own body betraying you.
You don’t see when he takes off his boxers, now finally as naked as you are - but you do see it when he starts rubbing the head of his heavy cock over your slicked up slit, catching your clit every once in a while. He cocks one brow at you at your silence, and softly hums a deep, raspy breath. You really are weak. “Daddy, daddy, please- pl-hck- please put it in, I’m losing my mind.”
“Seems like it,” he mumbles back, a cocky grin reappearing right before he grabs himself by the base and leads his fat cock inside you with no further warning. He’s too big as soon as he shoves himself inside halfway, grabbing your hair as you wiggle against him. The other half is forced deeper as his cock bumps your walls, makes your pussy drool and clench, and your mouth hangs open as you try to keep from screaming. Your back lifts off the bed a few times, legs opening wider to make room for his thick thighs as he bottoms out and stretches you too thin. “That’s a nice noise.” He’s laughing.
You can’t relate. Your entire body feels wound too tight, legs locking around his glutes in the naïve hope for some reprieve— before he pulls back and holds himself above you. Scared pecs and arms flex when he pulls all the way out, only to thrust back in too deep and have you choking on it. It’s hitting so deep it leaves you speechless. “Make it again,” he gloats as he chuckles into your face, before kissing you again, and this time he bites your lip, hard enough to taste copper. Oh, fuck. You cling onto the ropes for dear life with your numb fingers, and try to wrap your legs back around him with a choked whimper; but you can’t.
You’re shaking, and your pussy’s clenching and sucking around him hard each time his hips meet yours and heavy balls smack against your ass. You feel like he’s going to fuck you through the wall. Drool’s mixed with the blood you swallow, letting his tongue melt to yours, and make you even more needy for air. Each pump inside you gushes more slick out of your cunt, lewd noises and ‘pap’s filling the room along with his grunts. And you only pull away to gasp, and get pulled down onto him again and again. “Daddy, daddy, I’m- gonna- cum.”
And he plants a hand on your throat to squeeze until your eyes cross, free hand going to hold your shivering thighs in place as he buries his cock deep into your plush walls. “Dumb, dumb girl- I don’t need- ugh- you to tell me that.” You’re folded double entirely as he keeps the rhythm entirely ruthless, and your belly starts tightening under your body jerks shut around him, crying out. You can’t even feel your hands anymore, and your breathing’s so shallow and confused you’re lightheaded. Your toes curl so hard you feel like you’ll pass out, but Toji doesn’t stop. Not even when hot ropes of cum fill the heat of your spasming pussy up and spill out— he doesn’t even slow.
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rntoshi · 1 year
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͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ 🔊 bachira meguru (n): the obsessive type.
͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏/ • yandere tendencies, all characters are adults.
͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏​ ͏ ͏similar: a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
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it's canon that there's something a bit sinister about bachira— something a little off. it makes me believe he isn’t the conventional lover you’d want him to be.
bachira is an obsessive type, meaning if he enjoyed something he would indulge in it in an excessive, unhealthy amount. it's unfiltered. and as cute as he is, there is a brewing darkness inside of him that he's been open about since he was a child. so much so that he's seemingly made friends with it, referring to this imaginary friend as a "monster," and often talking to and about it as if they were longtime friends.
you to bachira was no exception. he was attracted to you because you were self-assured, not in a cocky way? but in a way that you have a level head on your shoulders. you're seemingly at peace with yourself and where you are in life— and bachira is intrigued by that because he hasn't.. felt that. bachira has never known the happiness that is being surrounded by those who love and accept him like you did when you were a child. much like how he was drawn to isagi, it's similar with you. but instead, bachira doesn't want to coexist and awaken something in you: he wants to possess you because he views you as some sort of angel— you're a virtue who makes him feel tranquility he's never had when he was young. it feels euphoric for him when he's with you for the simple fact he feels protected, heard and accepted even despite his.. eccentric personality. all the things he gotten tormented for; you love. you actively heal his innermost trauma which is why he'd go to extremes rather than letting you go.
you balance him out. he’s very childish, whimsical and chaotic whereas you are nurturing, doting and stable. you’re his anchor in many ways but it’s most evident emotionally. he has moments of weakness where he needs your constant reassurance that you love him, having to promise him a thousand times that you won’t leave him for someone else— his biggest fear is being alone but when he met you it shifted into: he’s afraid of you leaving him all alone.
the relationship definitely an odd pairing according to the public eye. one would assume that you’d be a better fit for someone like rensuke, seishiro or maybe even rin because from the outside it seems as though there’s a dynamic that puts you in a more dominant role. the way bachira so easily clings onto you and finds himself falling asleep in the crook of your neck, solely being lulled into peace from the sound of your voice. he’s incredibly touch starved and often gets restless and agitated when he’s away from you for too long. your touch, your smell, the warmth you produce— it’s like his lifeline.
he is submissive to you in certain aspects, even a bit codependent to a trained eye from the outside looking in, but this wasn't the entire truth.
see, bachira is an brilliant actor and while he does put on a world class performance of being the whimsical, cutesy boy toy— he’s an excellent manipulator. bachira has gotten to a point where does it so we that he doesn’t realize he’s doing it anymore, its altered his sense on reality.
the best way to describe it would be to say there’s a hidden dimension of the relationship that you’re totally unaware of, but he is. bachira is the puppet master and you're his most prized doll. because you’re so nurturing, kind, and naive, you play right into his game every time. you would never suspect your darling, dear bachira to ever do such a thing. in your eyes your sweet boyfriend could never do anything wrong, let alone manipulating you. into what? not leaving him? you know he has some issues to be worked out in therapy, but you've already reassured him countless times that you only have eyes for him and not a soul could change that.
“you know if you ever, ever, ever~ ♡ left me for someone else..” he's breathless in your ear as his hips rut into you from behind but there's so clearly a smile in his voice. if only you could see the unhinged look on his face, but his bicep is wrapped around your neck in a light chokehold. the only thing you can focus on his the headboard in front of you. “i’d kill them— i’d kill them and i'd record it so I could send it to you as a gift. isn’t that romantic?” but little do you know, he actually dead serious. he’d go lengths to assure you’ll never leave his clutches.
“chira— d-on’t say t-things like that.. ah..” you whine, dainty fingers gripping the soft bedsheets underneath you. you're too under the influence of an orgasm to really process his words, for now you think of it as chira being chira. “you feel so.. good..”
“you’re mine— ‘nd you’ll be my bitch forever, yah~ ♡? my pretty princess.. my angel?” he says as he picks up his pace, now chasing his own high as you near your own. the sounds of skin on skin from his pelvis hitting the meat of your ass and the high-pitched moans coming from both you and him were explicit and pornographic.
“always.. always!” the tightening around the base of his cock from your high and your cries are what essentially push him over the edge, making him unload deep inside your hole. the simple implication or rather.. agreement that you'll be his forever was enough for him.
nevermind the aggressive love bites that have sense drawn blood, bachira will just give you that pretty puppy-eyed look and apologize for getting out of hand. he never "means" to, honest. he totally doesn't get the sweet satisfaction of marking what he considers his property.
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minhavn · 2 years
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fwb!bestfriend’s brother!yj teasing you under the table during dinner with his sister and parents and banging you when having a sleepover pls
warning(s) : exhibitionism, dom!jun, sub!reader, age gap, fingering, slight dub-con/non-con, mild degradation, slut shaming, implied smoking, marking, yj kinda a dick, not proofread, feel free to add more
a/n : im sorry for the very late reply, i haven't been here for a while and active mostly on my other acc. anyway, pls enjoy this darling and thank you so much for the request ♥️
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it's already semester break and you had decided to have a sleepover for a week at your best friend's place—knowing her well that she'd ask you for a sleepover if you didn't propose the idea first when she had to watch her parents leaving to have a holiday in another city, away from her and her menacing older brother, yeonjun.
you had known yeonjun the time you befriended his sister, finding him to be cold, brooding and the whole package of 'dark grunge emo boy' ever since the second year of high school. he also never greeted you properly whenever you came to have a sleepover or a study session with his sister—only giving you a side glance, eye roll and then left the living room for the two of you once he slammed his door closed.
it had been a while and he gradually warmed up to you, giving you a curt nod as a greeting or buying you and his sister some snacks whenever he left the house to the nearest store. "here," he dropped a bag of snacks and drinks you requested, holding out his hand—telling both of you the exact number you had to pay before leaving with a small hum, lighting up his cigarette and leaving the house again to meet his friends.
"so, how's study?" was the most dreading question one could ask to a struggling student.
"it was fine," you replied with a smile, trying to conceal your pain over the fact that you had to take some classes before the next semester. feeling something on your thigh, you looked down and found yeonjun's hand resting on top of it comfortably—playing, tracing and drawing random shapes over your bare skin, giving you slight goosebumps and burning sensation once he stopped right on the end of your skirt.
his hand slipped underneath, running his index finger over your clad slit and giving a slight pressure over your sensitive nub—ignoring your stare while finishing down his dinner before pushing your panties aside, shoving two fingers inside you. it wasn't much but enough to make you full and squirming on the seat.
it was always the same once the two of you found interest in each other two summers ago, stealing some time to have a quickie or quick make out when there was none to catch you—enjoying the thrill of getting caught by your friends, his friends and his sister.
"jun, we cannot," you breathed out, watching his lips leaving marks all over your neck and collarbones while ignoring your plead to stop—left hand gripping the backside of your thigh, wrapping it around his waist while the other pushing your waist against the wall.
leaving your skin with a sloppy 'pop', yeonjun looked down to see your eyes and placed his fingers under your chin, eyes looking dangerous as always. "say it again," he licked his bottom lip, following your gaze as it shifted away from his face and starting to unbutton your pajama shirt, feeling your waist under his palm, "i take that as a 'we can' then," he rasped before pushing you down to his bed.
taking off his shirt, he ran his fingers along your bare skin and pressed kisses between your chest. "does my sister know you're here? on my bed? fucking her brother?" he gave your left breast a squeeze, rolling the nipple between his fingers before giving your right one a light suck, tongue flicking over the sensitive nub and leaving it alone with a gentle bite.
cocking his head to the side, his smirk got wider and started to coo at your vulnerable state. "what a whore. sleeping with your friend's brother behind her back," he spread your legs, massaging your thighs slowly while watching you dripping down to his sheet—still wet from the dinner.
smearing lube all over his length, he ripped open a packet and rolled the condom over it before pressing the head against your entrance, making sure you were ready to take him slowly. "fuck, whore like you are nothing but a hole for me to fuck, huh?" he gasped, watching you swallowed him with ease while keeping the noise down, avoiding any suspicion from his sister.
circling his thumb around your clit, you let out a mewl and dug your nails into his back, looking at him with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. "jun, please, i'm close," you begged, feeling all familiar coil inside your stomach that always ready to burst out whenever yeonjun was around you—whether it was an arm length or deep inside you, yeonjun always knew your body well and how to make it cum without any effort.
"then cum for me," he looked down, gripping your waist tightly before increasing his speed and slamming his hips against yours harder, "show me how much of a dirty whore you are for my cock, slut."
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spacecatchako · 1 year
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cringey cringe drabble i wrote cw for breeding, marking, car sex, tenya x gen! reader
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“darling… don’t feel like you have to”
i playfully pout, resting my chin on his chest, between his pecs.
“but i want to. do you not want me to?” i ask in earnest
a blush lights up on his cheeks
“i-i wouldn’t mind it darling. i just don’t want you to feel like you have to, per say.” he wont meet my gaze, the flustered mess that he is
i hum and lean up to give him a peck on the lips, and he leans in, reciprocating fully
“tenny baby, i love you so much. and you look so handsome tonight, how could i resist you? i want you. i want to make you feel good. do you want me too?“ i whisper against his lips
he grunts and nods
“use your words baby” i climb into his lap in the front seat and his hands go to my ass, pulling us closer together. i can feel his heat against my crotch and my hips buck into his instinctively.
“hh, fuck yes darling i want you. make me feel good? use me how you want to.”
i take this with a nod and i return to kissing him. i take my time on his lips, his cheeks, feeling his stubble and tasting his skin. i nose my way down his neck, licking and biting. im at his collarbone when i lean down to lick and bite at his nipples through his shirt.
“ah- darling, he-“ i cut him off with a precise nip, and he hisses. he doesnt think i can tell but i just know that he could cum from just having his nipples played with.
i tease the other with my hand before switching, lapping at the sensitive nub through the light fabric of his shirt. hes so handsome like this. usually so composed, now reduced to nothing but moans and whimpers.
when i think hes had enough of me biting and pulling at them, i prod at his waist. “off” i demand
he releases his hold on me to take his shirt off. and his chest and neck are already glistening with my ministrations. i return to marking him. neck, chest, hips, stomach. tenyas put on a layer of fat over his thick muscles but i find it all the more attractive.
his cock jumps against my crotch as i kiss lower and lower, eventually kneeling in front of his clothed erection. i kiss and lick at him through his jeans, determined to prolong this torture
he rubs at his erection while i lay kisses to his stomach before undoing his belt buckle and unzipping him. hes half hard, bulge in his underwear evident. hes wet too, if the spot is any indication.
“silly boy. all needy for me again, huh”
he peers at me through his fogging glasses, heart racing, panting. “ye- yes sir- fuck”
i cut him off with pulling his waistband down and taking him into my mouth. he tastes sour but familiarly so. i love the way that he tastes. i can feel him in the back of my throat as i bob my head, holding his knees for leverage, spreading his legs wider. hes gasping, trying not to tangle his fingers in my hair, trying to keep his hands to himself
im slightly aware of him playing with his tits as i suck his cock, looking up at him, flushed, as i work him with my fist and bob my head harder
hes so beautiful. i love him like this.
i dont let him release. when his hand goes to his mouth and his toes start curling in his socks, i mount him once more, kissing him
“are you ready for me? silly boy.” i tease. i kissing his lips and bite at him and he accepts, tongue on mine. he hums in approval and i get rid of my underwear and pants before struggling to sink down on his massive cock.
he bottoms out and groans, trying not to cum just from that. i start riding him, clenching as hard as i can to work him to orgasm faster. his head is thrown back against the seat as i bounce, surely shaking the car. i can feel him so deep
“you’re doing so good baby. youre such a good boy, letting me fuck you like this. and in- fuck theres the spot- and in public nonetheless.”
he nods and groans, eyes squeezed shut to delay his orgasm. hes cumming and he knows if. i can tell from the thick ropes that i feel and the warm feeling coatung my insides.
hes so beautiful. such a strong, powerful, fertile man. i know he’ll give me the prettiest babies someday.
i kiss him, cum pouring out of my hole and leaking down his cock. he moans and gets ready to pull me off of him before i put my hand on his chest to stop it.
“uhuh pretty.” i chide. “you finished in me now wait for it to take”
he stutters in confusion, almost upset at what hes done but still too fucked out to care. i nuzzle his jawline before kissing him again.”
“keep me plugged up, pretty. i want to feel your cum.”
he groans in embarrasment and blushes
i lean in, kissing him. “besides. the night is still young.”
tenya bucks up at that and i giggle, tracing circles amongst the bites that i left. all this underneath the stars, their shine reminding me of the marks that i left on tenya
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lyovochkaa · 2 years
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desperation - tighnari (wc: 521 )
cw: afab!reader, somnophilia, noncon or dubcon depending how you squint, dry-humping, marking, mention of breeding— tighnari is simply infatuated with you.
18+ only. dark content. minors dni.
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you’re sprawled out in bed— body limp with sleep and vulnerable, oh how delicate you look and every animalistic instinct in tighnari is on fire. his body threatens to burn him to ash, his bones the pyre, if he doesn’t touch, kiss, ravish the meal, the prey laid out before him.
his weight joins yours on the bed, slowly, and you stir in a way that makes his heart beat impossibly faster— he swears it will make him deaf.
with what little restraint he’s maintained he’s gentle— gloved fingers ghosting up your bare thigh, it’s soft and he begs to the archons that it will smell of him, that he will mark you with every fiber of his being and it will never wash away.
he lingers a moment when you huff in your sleep, perhaps this was ticklish or perhaps the fresh scent of the rainforest wafting off him felt foreign to you even in your sleep.
but you only seem to shiver, body twisting into the thin sheets until they’ve tangled— and tighnari seems to forget how to breath or at least wishes he did.
you’re completely bare— the summer heat of sumeru too much, and it shows in the sweat glistening on your skin that sends a tingle up his spine until his ears are twitching in excitement.
and it sparks into a firestorm when his eyes catch on the pretty thing nestled between your thighs— you’re slick with arousal and he begins to wonder if he hadn’t hallucinated the dizzying sound of his name mumbling past your parted lips.
his head is heated and blank and all he can think about is claiming you, marking you. it’s almost nauseating how desperate he is, his arousal beginning to leak through the thin fabric of his pants— the stain wouldn’t matter in the morning, not when he’s begun to grind into you.
he devours every little moan that escapes you— takes note of the way you squirm and writhe when he rolls his hips a bit too roughly against your clit, his senses are drowning him in every inch of you.
he didn’t know whether to curse or praise the archons for his sensitivities— your scent alone could have him coming undone, and the haunting sound of your voice would be something he dreamt of for the rest of his life.
he wanted more, needed to be inside of you— to feel the way you’d stretch around him, spongy velvet walls hot and desperate to milk him, to let him breed you until you were so full you couldn’t move.
but he promised himself that would be for when you were awake, when he could see the way your eyes would roll back in pleasure and how you’d cling to him trembling and moaning and—
he bites into the thick flesh of his arm, low growls muffled as he comes undone— his cum soaking into your slick that stained him, and disgustingly he knows he will not wash the fabric for a few days until the smell has gone and he has to repeat this night all over again.
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orchid3a · 2 years
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Mikey with a cute mommy milkers reader who cuddles and kisses him and does whatever he wants 💗 she will always be by his side
anon i want to kiss your pretty brain!!!
tw: nipple play, groping, marking, slight voyerism, implied sex at the end, pet names
note: all the sanos have a thing for tits in general and i will not elaborate!!
no proofreading
MDNI 18+ CONTENT AGELESS BLOG DNI
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Mikey loves you and your soft tits so much, if only he could spend his days between them without worrying about anything else.
Dealing with Bonten’s stuff is tiring and Mikey just wants to rest, especially after dealing with Sanzu and the Haitani brothers cursing and pissing off each other, plus Kokonoi and Kakucho scolding them like they were children.
He sighs not wanting to sit on the chair and work for who knows how long, but when he opens his office door he sees you.  
You are lying on the couch scrolling on the phone, as if you are waiting for his arrival, and when you hear him coming you drop the phone while sitting up.
You open your arms and a big smile adorns your face, inviting him to be in your arms, which Mikey gladly does.
Lying once again on the sofa with Mikey on the top, his face between your boobs and his arms around your waist.
You giggle seeing the so feared Bonten’s leader becoming putty in your arms. His eyes are closed and a small smile on his face, you hum while stroking his white hair.
“Poor my ‘Jiro” You murmur “They always tire you out.”
He nods and nuzzles his cheeks against your chest, however feeling the shirt’s fabric against his cheek makes him frown and with a swift movement he takes off your shirt, leaving you in your bra.
Mikey removes it before you can say anything, his mouth latches on your nipple and a moan leaves your lips.
While his mouth is tormenting one nipple, one hand twists and pinches the other while his ears are blessed with your mewls.
“ ‘J-Jiro, please don’t b-bite the-” you are interrupted when he bites on it making you moan loudly.
You are at his mercy, his hands are groping at your tits while he bites and marks them. The only thing you can do is moaning and crying his name out.
Before Mikey can go further, the door opens revealing a very flustered Sanzu. If glares could kill, the pink-haired man would be six feet under the ground.
“B-Boss I will return later!” he says closing the door.
Mikey sighs and turns his attention towards you, placing a soft kiss on your lips, before getting up.
“It seems that work is calling. Pretty wait here and then we will continue.” he murmurs and you nod. He kisses you one more time before leaving you all alone.
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nanami-luvr · 2 years
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𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄
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featuring: big brother!shinichiro x reader
warnings: incest, marking (cigarettes and hickies), dry humping, degradation, slight yandere behaviour towards reader, reader is a bit naive.
sypnosis: shin-nii's always so loving towards you. what happens when you disappoint him?
ᝰ KINKMAS 2021.
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shinichiro was always calm and collected. there was never a day where he’d lose his temper or have a sudden outrage. even if there were moments where the atmosphere felt suspenseful, he never wavered. he’d keep his cool and hold himself together.
that’s what he wants everyone to see. when it comes to you, you’re different.
“you went out with waka again?” his tone sounds indifferent, like he’s not interested in a conversation that he started. but deep down, you know better. you know shinichiro better than anyone else.
there was a reason why you always kept secrets from shin-nii. it wasn’t because you couldn’t trust him. it was solely because you were afraid of how he would react. he never shouts or screams. instead, he’d act cold towards you, giving you the silent treatment and pretend like you’re not his dearest little sister. he knows how much it hurts you, especially when all you want to do is just cling on to him.
he’s convinced that you don’t know how much he loves you. when it comes to you, he’d protect you with his entire life, even if it means keeping you away from everyone else just so he can have you all to himself. there was no reason for you to hang around with anyone else. all you need is him.
“i’m sorry shin-nii! i wanted to hang out with you but you were in the shop so i didn’t want to disturb you.” a pout forms on your lips, hoping that your older brother would face you and forgive you for choosing someone else over him.
he doesn’t. he doesn’t turn to look at you. he still has his back turned towards you as he continues to repair the broken motorcycle in front of him. he wants to forgive you, to watch you fall apart on his cock like you always do.
but he’s had enough of you taking advantage of his kindness. you need to learn a lesson.
“c’mon nii-chan. i said i’m sorry!” he’s still giving you the cold shoulder, refusing to acknowledge the fact that you’re on the edge of throwing a temper tantrum.
“nii-chan, you can’t keep ignoring me!” the sound of feet pattering towards him makes him satisfied, knowing very well that your little punishment is going the way he intended to. he chooses to play it off, pretending that he’s too focused on the object in front of him.
there’s a little huff that escapes your lips the moment you place yourself before him, lowering yourself onto his lap just so you can get the tiniest bit of attention. he finds you adorable during moments like this, all needy and pouty, just begging for his love and affection.
you think you’re in his good graces when he looks up at you. but you’re wrong. his calloused hand tugs on your hair, causing you to wince in pain from how rough he is.
“dumb little sisters like you should just stay at home with their big brothers. don’t want people thinking you’re a whore now do you?” his words hurt, more than you could ever imagine.
it’s like a stab to the heart, knowing very well how you never had the intention to make him feel so disappointed in you. if anything, you want him to feel proud of you. you want his validation more than anyone else’s.
“you love your nii-chan, don’t you?” nodding your head meekly, you notice a smile forming on his lips, hinting that he already has something planned. good or bad, it doesn’t matter. as long as your nii-chan is satisfied, you don’t care about anything else.
instead of waiting for him to make a move, you begin grinding against the bulge of his pants, internally wishing that it was his cock that you were grinding on. but beggars can’t be choosers, and you’re grateful that shin-nii has given you a second chance.
it feels weird rubbing yourself onto his pants. it’s coarse and scratchy, and the fact that you’re wearing a mini skirt doesn’t help either. the burn marks of his name on your thigh still linger, and the pain of it reminds you that you belong to shinichiro, and shinichiro only.
it was a month ago when he caught you in takeomi’s arm, all flustered and giggling without a care in the world. if it were any other person, he couldn’t be bothered. but it’s you. his pride and joy. he doesn’t understand why you need someone else when he’s been there all this while.
the next moment, you’re ripped away from takeomi, lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist as he pulls you along with him into the garage. you still remember it like it was yesterday, the burn of the red hot cigarette butt pressing onto your skin as he marks you as his property.
“you’re my pretty slut, yeah? no one else can have you.” he breaks you out of your trance as you mindlessly ride him, not noticing that his face is buried in your neck while his lips are busy sucking on your skin.
his cock is hard, bulging against the confines of his pants. it pokes you whenever you drag your pulsating clit onto the rough texture of his pants. you’re tempted to help him out. you want to unbuckle his pants and have his cock buried deep inside you, yet the idea of disappointing him once more discourages you from doing so.
“i can feel your cunt throbbing. you wanna cum that badly?” it’s a silent answer, but the way your face scrunches in frustration gives him all the answers he needs. his hands find their way underneath your skirt, pushing your pretty panties to the side as he plays with your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“nii-chan! wanna cum for you! please please please!” your body seizes up as you cum all over his pants, eyes rolling to the back of your head from how intense it feels. your hands are clawed into his back, clinging onto him like you’re never letting go no matter what he does to you.
“that’s it. that’s my good girl. there she is.” you’re embarrassed at how desperate you were for his attention, but nii-chan reassures you that he’s proud of you. his gentle fingers stroke your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
you don’t know it yet, but he’s got you hook, line and sinker. he knows you can’t live without him, and that’s the way it should be.
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erieren · 2 years
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APPEASE THE KING
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pairing: trueform!sukuna x f!reader
content warnings: smut, pwp, non-con (offering oneself to the villain), age gap (since sukuna’s like a thousand years old), monster fucking, unprotected sex, sadism, oral sex (m and f receiving), throat fucking, degradation, manhandling, marking, unwanted creampie
summary: how naïve could you be, thinking that the king of curses would release you from his domain without a cost?
word count: 4.0k
notes: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND FEEL FREE TO BLOCK ME OR ANY TAGS. happy halloween!! apparently there’s an arc that takes place in shibuya at halloween but i don’t read the jjk manga so uhh yeah… this is also my first time writing for jjk (feedback would be appreciated!) ALSO!!! if i’m missing any tags or if i tagged something incorrectly, please lmk! also not proofread >~<
jjk masterlist | main masterlist
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You don’t know where you are, or how you got there. The darkness blinds you; it doesn’t get this dark when it’s nighttime, does it? It was nighttime when you left Jujutsu Tech. Shibuya Halloween was in full swing, and Nobara wanted to get there early to see everyone in costume. You just happened to lag behind her, Yuji, and Megumi since you had something else to take care of. 
It was chilly outside, like a normal October night in Tokyo. The streetlights shone so bright, and the noise of the Halloween event could be heard in the distance. It was basically right in front of you, but that doesn’t explain how you’re currently surrounded by darkness. You take a couple steps, thinking—and hoping—that you might have just blacked out for a couple of seconds, but a chilling voice makes you freeze like a deer in headlights.
“I’m surprised you’re alive right now, considering you wandered into my domain,” the voice can be heard from behind you. It sounds rough, and the intonation makes it sound like you’re being mocked. “Ah, you’re one of those jujutsu sorcerers. No normal human would’ve survived this long.”
You quickly turn around and your surroundings come to life. No longer engulfed by darkness, the sky appears to be cloudy and red. There’s a shrine right in front of you, decorated with shrines and… mouths? No. It can’t be.
The realization hits that you’ve come across the one and only King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna. But that’s not the worst part; to add on to it all, he’s in his true form, sporting four arms and two faces. The black marks on his face, chest, and arms do nothing to lessen your fears. It’s absolutely terrifying, the sight alone is a fright more than you bargained for on Halloween. He sits atop a pile of bones, like they’re just some kind of trophy to him. Where the hell is Yuji?
You might as well just dig your own grave at this point; you know that there’s no way you can defeat him on your own. Four years of training at Jujutsu Tech prepared you to fight all sorts of cursed spirits, but the king himself? Just forget it. Nothing you’ve learned would be enough. Even from this distance, you can see his red eyes which appear to be glowing.
“Please let me go,” your voice shakes as you speak. It’s pathetic, you know, but there’s not much else you can do. In the blink of an eye, he disappears from his position at the temple. You feel relief that only lasts for a second when his voice sounds from right behind you. 
“What’s with this getup?” He asks while plucking your headband out of your hair. It’s red as well, and there’s a big bow; Nobara wanted everyone to dress up as a Studio Ghibli character, so you settled with Kiki. He tosses it to the side before bringing a hand up to wrap around your throat. You instinctively grab at his hand to try and pull it off, but he’s strong. Too strong, almost. “I’ll let you go.”
His grip on your throat loosens, and you deeply inhale in relief. It sounds too good to be true. Is he really letting you go that easily? 
“On one condition,” he finishes. Of course. He pulls you closer so that your back is flush against his bare chest, and he leans down so that his mouth is right by your ear. “Appease me. Disobey, and I have no choice but to kill you.” 
He lets you go, and you instantly drop to your knees. Just from him holding you close, you feel powerless. What does he mean by “appease me?” Maybe he wants you to kill Megumi or Gojo, but how would you do that right here, right now? How would you even do that in general? It’s literally impossible. Sukuna must be out of his mind or something. In the few moments that you spent looking at your shaking hands against the ground, he took the time to return to his stance at the temple. 
“You going to comply or what?” a bored expression crosses his face, emphasized by the one of his four hands supporting his chin. His hair looks fiery, perhaps from the sky above, and the black marks on his skin.
The lump in your throat is hard to swallow, but you approach him nonetheless. With each step you take, the heavy, dreadful feeling in your bones gets heavier. As you approach the shrine, Sukuna keeps his gaze locked on to you until you’re climbing up the steps to be face to face with him.
You can’t look him in the eyes, afraid that just one glance would kill you. And you’re sure you’re just about dead when you’re harshly pushed to the floor, scraping your exposed knees in the process.
“Don’t you know who you’re with? Show some fucking respect,” he spits. “Just do as I say, and I won’t hurt you.”
It’s a little too late for that, you think. The stinging sensation from your knees lessens as the adrenaline kicks in. Him looking down at you makes you feel so inferior to him; it’s like he’s a lion preying upon a gazelle.
“Bow down to me,” he states. There’s venom in his words and it’s almost paralyzing, but you find yourself fixing your position on the ground in front of him. With your ass resting on the heels of your feet and your balled up hands on your thighs, you lower the top portion of your body close to the floor. But apparently it’s not enough for Sukuna because next thing you know, he lifts one of his feet up and presses it to your back. To stop your face from hitting the floor, you put your hands out right in front of you.
“That’s more like it,” he mutters under his breath. You don’t dare to look up at him when you hear him unfastening the belt around his baggy pants, nor when the fabric pools around his ankles. This can’t be happening.
“Hey,” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and a chill is sent down your spine when one of his large hands finds the back of your neck. His sharp, claw-like nails dig into your skin, threatening to puncture you. “You want to get out of here alive, don’t you?” 
“Yes, sir.”
He smiles at your formality. “Then sit up, and suck me off like you mean it.”
The hand on your neck brings you face to face with his dick and fuck, there’s no way that’s going to fit in your mouth. At first glance, it’s noticeable that Sukuna has a well-built body, and the same can be said for his dick. It’s long with a nice girth; your hand struggles to completely wrap around it. A bead of precum leaks from his slit, so you lick it up before slowly moving your hand up and down his length. Behind it, right on his stomach, is a massive mouth with the tip of its tongue sticking out the corner. You try your best to open your mouth as wide as you can to fit him inside, but it’s not enough for him. 
“Don’t tell me you’ve never sucked a cock before,” he says condescendingly. Tears form in your eyes as you attempt to take more of him and because you really don’t want to disappoint him when your life is at stake. “Open your fucking mouth.”
He smirks to himself as he pushes your head further down his length, causing the tears to stream down your face. Your nose brushes up against the patch of hair at his base, and you can feel his balls on your chin. It hurts having him all the way down your throat, and it’s hard to breathe. You find yourself hitting his thigh to tell him to stop, but it’s just so amusing to him. He keeps you in that position for just a second longer before pulling you off of him. You immediately start coughing and gasping for air, desperate to get oxygen into your lungs while also wiping the spit around your mouth with the back of your hand.
“I can’t have you passing out on me. That would be no fun,” he chuckles.
“P-please. Just let me go,” you beg in a feeble attempt to escape.
“Already?” He ruffles his hair. “I haven’t been satisfied yet. We’re just getting started.”
A choked sob leaves your lips as he brings you closer to his dick once again. He’s just as ruthless as the last time, forcing your lips open with the fat tip and sinking himself deep into your throat. Your hands stay on his thighs for some leverage as he continues to fuck your throat. 
“What are you crying for?” He asks when looks down to see your tears falling down your face, mixing with the spit on your chin. “You want me to praise you?”
You can’t do anything but let out a garbled plea to stop. He finally lets up, slowing down his pace and releasing his hand from your head. When you look at him, you notice that he keeps his chin high to avoid looking directly down at you. With a pat to your cheek, he wordlessly urges you to continue getting him off. You feel some relief now that you’re able to move at your own pace.
Wasting no time, you go right to work taking as much of his dick as you can without gagging, while your hands work with what doesn’t fit in your mouth. He lets out an occasional grunt, not wanting to give you any satisfaction for your work. 
“Perfect little mouth,” he mumbles as you begin to massage his balls. They’re warm, and they feel heavy in your palm. Your spit runs down his entire length, coating your hands in it as you continue to pleasure him. His thighs and abs start to clench, a sign that he’s nearing his release. “Fuck, that’s it. Stand up.”
Before you have a chance to react, you’re being pulled up and off of the floor. Sukuna carries you over to a broken pedestal that looks grimy and like it’s on the verge of collapsing. The cold concrete makes you shiver when he lays you down on it.
“It was only a matter of time until it came down to this. Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” you try to convince him, but the waver in your voice says otherwise.
Sukuna smirks at your response, obviously not believing you. “What if I just started fucking you right now? Would you be scared then?”
Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel two of his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress higher and higher until it bunches around your waist. His sharp nails occasionally poke your skin, making you jump at each quick jab. It feels like there’s a slight breeze when your cotton panties are finally exposed to him; you wish you could just shrink into the pedestal and disappear forever. 
Sukuna runs a finger over your clothed cunt, catching the waistband of it with his nail before letting it snap back against your skin. “You’re wet already. It seems like you’re actually enjoying this.”
You try to shake your head in protest, but another hand finds its place on its throat. The pressure on the sides of your neck is immense; if he were to squeeze it any tighter, you’re sure you would pass out. Sukuna easily tears your panties off your body, leaving your bottom half completely bare. You can feel your slick rubbing onto your thighs and it’s so embarrassing  how wet you are despite the situation you’re in.
He immediately gets to work on your pussy, toying with your sensitive clit before dragging two fingers up and down your folds. His fingers glisten as they become coated in your arousal, but there’s no time for him to admire it. You suddenly feel his fingers push past your entrance, causing you to yelp out.
“Scream all you want, whore. No one’s coming to save you,” he looks at you with faux sympathy.  The curl of his fingers inside you is almost painful with how sharp his nails are. He won’t say it out loud, but he enjoys the feeling of you on his fingers; you’re already so tight, he wonders if he can actually fit his cock inside you. He thinks he’s being so generous by prepping you first. Seemingly out of nowhere, you feel a new, wet sensation on your pussy.
“O-oh!” You gasp; the hand on your throat makes it difficult to say anything else. You can’t see below you from how your head is pinned down to the pillar, but somehow you know what’s happening. The mouth on his palm had opened up, and it started to lick and suck on your clit while his fingers continued pumping in and out of you. And fuck, Sukuna can feel the way you clench around him. You want to squeeze your legs together, to try and push his hand off of you, but it’s like he can read your mind. With his remaining two arms, he firmly pushes your legs to the sides.
“Keep ‘em open for me, yeah? Do yourself a favor,” the tone of his voice is almost calming. You can’t think clearly anymore; the combination of stimulation on your clit as well as his fingers reaching deep within you is too much. It’s far too much and far too soon, and you feel sweat start to rise on your skin as your stomach clenches. You bite your lip to hold back your moans because you just can’t let Sukuna know how good he’s making you feel. Your fingers try to grasp onto something, anything, and they unwillingly end up on the backs of your thighs, right on top of Sukuna’s hands.
He knows you’re close, but he won’t let you cum just yet. So he rips his fingers from your warmth, making you let out a strangled cry. You’re left a panting mess trying to hold onto him so that you don’t fall off the pillar.
“Look at you,” Sukuna coos while tracing a finger along your jaw. “You were just begging for me to let you go, but now you’re just so desperate to cum. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
All you can do is nod your head as he moves to adjust your position on the pillar. With ease, he flips you over and now the edge of the pillar is digging into your stomach. Your arms are bent so that your hands cushion your face from the cold concrete. 
Sukuna pushes your dress up once again and spreads your ass cheeks to admire how messy your cunt has become. He delivers a harsh slap to your right side, causing you to wince as the edge of the pedestal digs into your skin. He then leans over, and you can feel the throb of his cock against your ass and the tickle of his breath against your ear.
“I’m not going easy on you,” is all he says before he positions himself to align with your hole and pushes in. The stretch of his cock inside you burns; you’ve never felt anything like this before.
“It– It’s too much,” you sputter as he continues pushing himself in. 
“I’ve only got a couple inches in,” Sukuna grunts. “Just take it.”
Although he sheathed himself in you slowly, he wasted no time in building up a fast pace. His thrusts were rough; the sound of his skin against yours began to echo throughout the empty space. You couldn’t stop the whines from spilling through your parted lips, but it was merely just music to his ears. He relished the way your pussy clenched around him, squeezing him the right way in all the right places. It was like you were trying to push him out, but he always liked a little chase.
He likes the way you look when you’re full of his dick; wanton moans slip through your gritted teeth as you try to hold them back, and the look of your glazed eyes turns him on even more. Knowing he has this effect on you has him feeling like he’s on a power trip.
“Sukuna… I can’t take it!” You helplessly cry. Your lashes flutter shut as teardrops continue to fall from your eyes. You feel so full every time he fills you to the hilt. He’s in your stomach; the fat head of his dick is hitting that same spot deep inside you over and over again. There’s a dull ache in your abdomen, most likely a combination of his cock and and the concrete against your skin. You reach a hand out behind you, trying to find his hips in a futile attempt to stop him. When that doesn’t work, you try to rip yourself away from him.
“You’re running from me,” he simply states while pinning your wrists to your lower back, though his hips never stop moving. “Stop running.”
God, you hate the way he sounds right now. With him lost in the feeling of your cunt, his voice has gotten all strained and raspy. It turns you on even more, and it’s clear by the way you feel your arousal mockingly drip down your thighs. Your body’s betraying you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 
You fall limp against the pedestal, and Sukuna pulls your hips closer to him. He wants, needs, more of you, but he’s already as deep as he can get, rearranging your guts and it feels like he’s molding your pussy to fit him perfectly. The new angle sends a sharp pain to your lower half every time he fucks into you, but it soon subsides. It’s actually amazing how his pace has not faltered even once. 
 “Are you going to stop running from me?” he asks. 
“Yes sir,” you sob after he thrusts particularly deep into you.
“Mhm. Because that’s all bitches like you are good for. Taking orders, listening to—oh fuck—to those who are above you.”
Sukuna is entranced by the way the fat of your ass jiggles with every thrust he delivers. He has half a mind to stick a thumb into your other hole, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you too much. Perhaps he’ll find you like this another time.
Suddenly, you’re lifted off of the pedestal and pushed up against a pillar of the shrine that isn’t broken. Sukuna’s hands are all over you like the air on a windy day; one constricts your throat, another one pulls the collar of your dress down to reveal your breasts, a third holds you by your waist, and the final one lifts your leg up and hooks behind your knee. There’s a crazed look in his wide eyes, and the growing grin on his lips just makes him all the more terrifying. By now, the tears have already stopped, but sobs still wrack your body. When will this be over? 
“I’ve got a hand on your throat but even that won’t shut you up,” Sukuna complains as he starts to cup your tits. “Seriously, you’d be even more attractive if you weren’t yapping this whole time.”
He lets go of your throat and chooses to focus on your chest. Just like with your ass, he finds himself lost in the way your tits bounce up and down with every movement. Everything hurts; your pussy is sore, and your legs have been stretched for far too long. Your back, although covered by the dress, is being dragged up and down the column, roughing up your skin. 
You feel the familiar knot in your stomach once again, and Sukuna can tell that you’re about to cum from the way you clench down on him impossibly tighter. You claw at his chest as the feeling grows, leaving red marks and crescent moons indented on his skin.
“You wanna cum?” Sukuna says in a gruff voice.
“Mhm…” you mumble. You don’t have the energy to say anything else. The only thought on your mind is reaching an orgasm so that he can finish as well and put an end to this nightmare.
“I don’t usually make promises,” he starts. “But if you speak one word of this to anyone, I’ll kill you.”
“I promise, I promise,” you babble.
 Sukuna’s pace starts to falter, and you can’t hold back any longer. Your legs shake as you finally reach your climax, holding onto the man—no, devil—in front of you for dear life. There’s fire in your veins; your body feels hot all over.
He continues rutting into you, grinding his hips against yours to help you come down from the high, while also bringing himself closer to the edge. The overstimulation makes your mind all fuzzy, but you absolutely need to tell him that he has to pull out. You have trouble finding the words to say as his heart beats faster, and his breathing becomes labored. It’s too late, you realize as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He deeply inhales as his whole body shudders, finally releasing his cum deep within your pussy. You can feel it, warm and sticky, as it leaks out of your hole. It almost seems never ending as it starts to run down his length and drip down his balls. 
His chest heaves as he pulls out, but the feeling of his cock is quickly replaced by something else. It’s also quite large, but it’s wet, so you look between your legs and see that the tongue coming from his stomach is licking at your folds. It’s cleaning up the cum that spilled down your thighs. You find yourself squirming around, not sure if it’s because of how weird this is, or if it’s because you’re still sensitive from your orgasm. 
“I’m quite pleased with how tonight turned out,” Sukuna admits.
“That’s enough,” you manage to get out. Sukuna scrunches his face at you, as if you’re the insane one just for ordering him to do something once. His nostrils flare before he lets you go, ultimately making you fall to your knees because of how wobbly your legs are.
“Are you that desperate to have my cock in your mouth again?” Sukuna scoffs. “Get up, and get out of here.”
You’re about to say something in response, but your surroundings change before you can even get a word out. The moon and stars twinkle above you, and the swirly clouds provide an eerie atmosphere ideal for All Hallow’s Eve. Laughter and loud music resonates in the air from the celebrations nearby. Realizing that you’re no longer in Sukuna’s domain, you rush to fix your dress. Your makeup is a whole other problem; there’s not enough light for you to look at yourself on your phone’s camera, but you make do with what you have. While you’re struggling to wipe away your mascara, Nobara’s name appears on your phone.
“Hello, Y/N? Where are you?! We’ve been trying to call you for the past– I don’t even know how long it’s been!” Nobara screeches from the speaker. You hold the phone away from your ear as she continues going off on you.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” you rasp, throat still sore from Sukuna’s actions. “Something happened.” “Like what?” Nobara presses on. Sukuna’s voice replays in your head, and you tremble from remembering what you promised him.
“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Is Itadori with you?”
“Yeah, Fushiguro and I met up with him not too long ago. I wonder what took him so long, too.”
She hangs up after a couple more words are exchanged. You don’t know how mad she’ll be when you finally see her again, and the fact that you have to face Yuji makes you nervous as well. But with shaky legs, you begin walking towards the raucous nightlife of Shibuya.
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readerinsertz · 2 years
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Steve rogers strength/size kink where he loves showing off his strength, and flexes his muscles to impress you. Don’t mind if it includes smut or not (18 yrs old)
Rating: Explicit content under the keep reading, links to sex positions MDNI
Word Count: 990
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☆ Probably tries to time his workouts when you’re in the gym too
☆ Shirts become 4x smaller
☆ Bucky can’t help but grin and tease him about it but will pipe up and say the washing machine shrunk it if/when Steve is called out for it
☆ When you talk to him, Steve’s always flexing his biceps- scratching his ears, hair, nape
☆ Smirks when he notices your eyes darting from his eyes to his pecs
☆ Once in a relationship and only only only if he knows it won’t be triggering, asks you how much you weigh then sends a video of him lifting three times that weight
☆ You ask him if he can lift x,y,z. Steve does it every time, patient in all your demands just smiles and lifts it
"Can you lift this?" You point at the washing machine
Steve gives you a small smile and a nod, bending down to grab a corner with one hand and easily lifting it up
"Can you lift that?" You ask and gesture at the seat
Steve sighs but grabs it with two hands and lifts it clean off the ground so you can hoover under it
"Can you move this?" You show him the massive makeup thingy and he sighs but does it, easily moving something that 4 men carried into the room
☆ Fucks you standing up, starts with you against the wall but will pull away so he’s the only thing keeping you up fucking you in the full nelson position. Grabs your hips and lifts you up, lets gravity drop you back down on his cock.
Warnings: explicit content, 18+, size kink, strength kink, marking, scratching, links to sex position images, squirting, daddy kink, minor mirror sex, thigh grinding,
☆ When you’re riding him, his feet are planted on the bed and he’s thrusting his hips into yours. Large hands clenched on your hips bouncing you on his dick
☆ Probably no definitely gets a mirror installed on the ceiling so you can see his back muscles whilst he’s fucking you
☆ When you’re bad (or good) he makes/lets you grind on his thigh
☆ Picture it: you straddled on his thigh, knees planted in the sofa cushion on either side of his hips. Short pleated skirt barely grazing the bottom of your ass, you white pants with the pink words ‘daddy’s princess’ soaked through, wet patch forming on his jeans embarrassingly quickly
“That’s a good girl, look at that. Princess made a wet patch on daddy’s trousers”. Getting bored Steve clenches his thighs to increase the friction on your clit. You throw your head back and moan. Wanting to bully you more, the blond bounces his leg just to see the fat tears drip from your waterline. Black trails run down your cheeks but you don't dare stop in your grinding motion. Eventually, Steve takes pity on you and coos that you’re too dumb to get yourself off with his thigh on your own and grabs your hips to control your rhythm. When Steve wants to hear you whine, he pushes down on your hips and grinds you a little harder. To an untrained ear, your hiccupy moans would seem like you're not enjoying the rough handling but the way your juices explode out of you, drenching the material of the chair and dripping down to darken the carpet, the fabric straining to cover Steve's muscular thighs already soaked through, is an indication of how much you enjoy it.
☆ Loves loves loves when you grip his shoulder/biceps to hold on. If you dig your fingernails into the skin oof he will flip you over and make you squirt on his dick
☆ Loves it when you mark him but no visible hickeys- he's still America's golden boy. Adores when you drag your fingernails down his back so the next day can hear all the hushed comments on the 10 red lines running parallel to each other down his back. Steve can’t stop smirking as he changes
☆ Will let out the whiniest fucking keen if you leave a love bite on the ‘v’ of his adonis belt like imagine being on your knees biting his flesh and you look up this sculpted Adonis of a man to see his blue eyes hidden behind his eyelids, head tipped down and plump lips open to let out the such a sexily pitched noise. You gush at the power you suddenly have (always had) over him
☆ Sparring sessions that end with him sweeping your legs out from under you and caging you down on the mat. Hands above your head, one of Steve’s wrapped around both of your wrists. No matter how much you struggle he keeps you pinned down. Animalistic sex partly from the adrenaline coursing through the two of you and also the risk of getting caught
☆ Lingerie is destroyed partly because his hands are so big Steve can’t easily remove the delicate hooks but also because the blond can get too impatient and just rips it off. Whispers into the meat of your thighs/breasts/neck he’ll buy another set. Not as in one set matching bralette and pants but the entire collection and in all the colour options.
☆The lap dance position/full nelson but Steve’s sat down with his forearms hooked around the backs of your knees and spreads your legs. He pushes your knees till touching they’re touching your shoulders and fucks up into you. Probably wraps one hand around your neck. If you’re un/lucky, one hand will slide down and rub figures of 8's onto your clit until you’re too overstimulated to babble anything greater than 3 words. You cannot move in that position at all, it’s Steve letting out all his anger and frustrations on your body
☆ Italian chandelier position but you don’t need to do anything to hold your weight, Steve does it, a hand on the small of your back all he needs to keep your lower body up
Other positions he uses to show his strength to fuck you:
Asian Cow
Apollo
Elephant
Descent
Flying Dutchman
Hood (Steve would spend all night going down on you)
Lace but also standing 69
Prison Guard
Honestly any of these but Snake, Zombie, Aquarius, Olympus, The Cradle, The Mermaid. I think Zombie may be his fave and he'll do the Arch for you (he can't resist your puppy eyes) but would feel a bit awkward
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sanemiangel · 3 years
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uzui tengen + size kink 
uzui tengen x fem!reader
cw- spit kink, size kink, smut, marking
a/n- in this fic i am not eluding to reader being thin or short whatsoever, as a plus size woman myself, i know with size kink those lines can get blurred and such
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As tengen had you writhing underneath him he was relishing in the way you looked under him, how his giant hand looked around your neck. How your pretty pussy looked struggling to take his girthy cock. Greek god like biceps holding your hips at an angle as he fucks into you.
“I could watch you beneath me all day.” he breaths, damp white hair hanging in your face before he leans down, sucking marks into your neck. “You just look so divine underneath me. You look almost helpless.” he coos down to you as his thrusts become more harsh. His hips slamming into yours, making sure to bash his cock into your cunt as far as he can to hear your screams. 
He wishes he could watch himself fuck you from someone else’s point of view, oh how he would revel in being able to see how pathetic you look as he fucks his fat cock in your tiny cunt, the way your body rocks back and fourth along the futon from the sheer force of him fucking into you. 
But that’s not what matters right now, as he takes a thick digit to your clit gently rubbing in circular motions, matching the speed of his now slowed thrusts, focusing on knocking the breath out of your lungs as the tip kisses your cervix.
You come undone in no time as soon as you feel the dexterity of his hand on your cunt along with his veiny cock knocking that special spot that resides in your worn out hole. Giving him no warning.
He shows you mercy as he slows down and takes his hand away as you come down.
Before he flips you onto your stomach, from his view now you laying on the futon as he kneels, you look even more helpless beneath him.
“Now” he slams his cock back into you. A large hand wrapping around your naps bringing your head back, spitting right on your face. “I’m gonna use this tight cunt however i want until i cum.”
All your fucked out mind can do is nod and get drunk off of more lust and pleasure.
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iwaasfairy · 2 years
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┌─ “ „ TRANQUIL ─┐
tw. free use, moresome, cult behavior, manipulation, coercion, implications of cutting /marking, embarrassment, voyeurism, corruption wordcount. 5.4k
a/n.  day 2 of kinktober ♡♡♡ this was another rough one for me hfggsfyg so i really hope you guys like it and that it does kinda hopefully come across a little like how i hoped it'd come across. i did enjoy getting to write mattsun as like,,, a more dark type of person because i never really got to do that before and i really enjoyed it and i hOPE you DO TOO!!!
matsukawa issei x fem!reader
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Your hair’s a mess by the time you get from campus onto the crowded tram, where you and too many wet travelers pack into it with an uncomfortable elbow in your face. It’s late, and the weary groan of the metal carriage feels a little too accurate to your current mood. The ugly, off-white lights cast harsh shadows. And a taller individual bumps you twice, making the metal bar dig into your thigh when you try to lean on it. Winter. You hate winter, you sadly have to confirm again, as the thick droplets turn into a drizzle. With a slight frown you catch your reflection.
The unflattering light makes you look so much older than you actually are, highlighting precisely everything you wish to ignore today. You’re tired enough to lean your head against the cold metal and pull out your phone, checking tomorrow’s notifications with a sudden unguarded sadness.
Mouth corners dropped, you tuck the device away again, and try your best to ignore the fact that you’re about to break. And you are — about to snap under the pressure. There’s days where the tasks keep you busy enough not to feel it, more focused on just going, going, going that you don’t really have the time to stop and think about how tired you are, how unfulfilled.
But there’s also days like these, dreary, miserable days where every stacked up mishap leaves you a few seconds from breaking out into a sob. You bite your bottom lip to will yourself, to suck it up, to ignore it. You’re a floundering college student; you’re used to ignoring it.
As you’re having a mental battle against your own emotions, the tram stops, people get off, people get on— and move and squeeze into the small area until you see him. Pressed in between two rows of seats, he seems to tower over everyone else. But it’s not his height that strikes you first. It’s his silhouette, his aura, from top to bottom standing in vast contrast with the groups of tired students and employees in a way that takes you aback. His presence overtakes the entire carriage, so much so that it surprises you all at once that you didn’t notice him before. His tall, wide shouldered frame suits the dark, curly hair and and even darker eyes.
You find yourself staring for a few seconds, before automatically trying to fix your hair a little in response. You’re captivated, however embarrassing it is to admit it. But you’ve seen people rock confidence, the pretty girls with shiny hair and kind smiles, or funny guys with foundations that are sturdy and durable. This man’s nothing like them, and yet, there’s something compared to it that makes them all fall short. It’s a larger-than-life sort of smackdown that takes your breath away. He’s truly imposing. And that’s fascinating and terrifying all at once.
Until he catches you staring.
Instantly the fascination turns to hot-cheeked embarrassment, before you avert your eyes as far away from him as you can. Not only are you teary eyed, sucking on your lip like it’s your safeguard, and is your face starting to glow from the mortification— you’re stood slouched and half pressed under a stranger’s armpit. You count the seconds with a longing for time to hurry until the tram slows at the next stop, lets people off, people on, and jerks you around a few steps as it unceremoniously speeds back up. The man stays on your mind though, those satisfied, lazy eyes seeming to stay with you. You can’t force yourself to look up into the cart again, resorting to watching the downcast streets instead.
But the reflection is too bright, and before you’re aware of it, you meet dark irises too— in the flickers of the window this time.
He lets out a low, warm chuckle at your wide-eyed expression; and smiles. A wide smile that turns his lips up at the corners in a cheshire-like grin and makes your stomach erupt with flutters. The rest of the ride has the hairs on your arms on end, standing up with the feeling of eyes on your skin; and not just because he’s handsome. He evidently is though. The few more minutes on the tram pass in a soft, spellbound silence that has you catching his eyes every so often, smiling beside yourself. Your stop comes up. And as you begrudge the full cart at not being able to say something, making your way with soft apologies towards the doors, you notice in a slight surprise that the man moves too.
A shiver crawls up your back, one you can’t pin good or bad.
 You slip off the vehicle with a little breath, getting out of the way of some other passengers, before a soft tap comes to your shoulder. You turn with a startle, having to throw your head all the way back to look up at the towering young man. His lashes are extra long from this angle, and eyes so rich and deep and all-consuming it takes you a moment to find your voice. “Yes?”
“Hey. I uh-” He rubs his large palm along the back of his neck, before running his fingers through his dark, chocolate brown curls. “I’m Matsukawa. And you're really pretty. At the risk of making myself look like a total idiot,” he grins down at you then, with the most handsome smile you’ve ever seen anyone slip onto their face, “could I get your name, and possibly your number?”
“Possibly my number, huh?”
He chuckles, and fishes out his phone from his back pocket to hand it to you. “Well, if you’re feeling charitable.”
+
You notice too quickly that Issei has a pull to him that is hard to shake. Charisma oozes out of him with each step, each glance your way, each smile. He’s got every waitress wound around his ring-clad fingers, and is deceptively good at getting his own way, even if he has to talk his way around a point. It’s endlessly amusing, with the way he casts you glances during dinner, over drinks, while talking to your friends who’re instantly smitten with him. It’s almost magical. Your friend tells you she’s jealous of you after only twenty minutes of meeting him, with a gentle smile on her face- and you can’t even blame her. Only agree, trying to keep down the grin that pulls at your lips.
And that’s why —maybe a little naïvely— you somehow expected the people he associates with, calls his friends, to be the same. Young, charismatic, smart with a tongue to match; this evidently isn’t what you get. The motley group before you is young men, older men, some handsome and others … definitely not. There are a few funny and boisterous, some deathly quiet— all of them already gathered in the dim bar before you and Issei arrive. All of them with eyes zeroed in on you from the second the brunet says ‘hi’.
You swallow. It’s not like you’re this shy recluse. You’re often able to match your boyfriend’s tone with just as much bite as he dares give you; and enjoy it. But something about being stuck like glue to his strong arm as the door falls shut behind you, takes all the joy out of it. This feels less like a friendly gathering, and more like a courtroom. You avoid most of the eyes as you choose instead to scan the bar, and you lean into Issei’s arm a little more. He’s oblivious of your thoughts, clearly, because he only smiles down at you to wave around. “These are the guys- well, some of them, at least.” He brushes his hands over your shoulders, and nods. “I’ll introduce you, everyone’s very excited to meet you. I have to admit that I maybe, sung your praises a little too loud.” His teasing should make you laugh. It would, under normal circumstances.
“... Alright,” is all you manage to say though, painting a friendly grin on as he parades you through the room and introduces you. Your heart still sinks a little when you shake hands with a man about twice your age, no matter how friendly he is.
Mattsun’s voice is that perfect, low rumble as he calls your name, and stares up at you from his splayed out position on the couch. “Hey, come back over here.” He jutts out his lip in an obnoxious pout, and makes grabby hands towards you like he’s a very oversized toddler. “Baby, come back to me~” You can’t help but smile, and grab your laptop to plop yourself down next to him. Your head rests onto his shoulder with a soft sigh, lazily continuing your work. It’s not easy to focus when your boyfriend blows little puffs of hair onto the crown of your head with a giggle though.
“Issei, please. I have to get this done.” You don’t sound nearly as stern as you wish you did, and he notices. And grabs hold of it easily, to pry his hand between your laptop and your thigh, to squeeze it hard enough to make you squirm. “Ouch,” you giggle, and look up to him, “not so hard, aw, aw.” You might complain, but you’re closing the tab all the same, giving in a little too easily to his poking and prodding. “What do you want?”
You expect a teasing smirk and a kiss maybe, or some thinly veiled comment about taking you here on the couch— but instead he stares for a long few seconds, then brushes his fingertips along your hairline to brush your locks away from your face. It’s awfully tender, as is the way he eyes you down like a prized jewel. Dark eyes exploring your features so intensely it makes you too aware of how close you two are sitting, curled up into his side and nose to nose. He blinks, mouth corners pulling up just a tad bit. “Did you think about what I asked you the other day?”
Fuck.
You go to pull away, sit back on your own pillow and drop the eye contact in favor of staring -now with much more interest- at the computer screen. Not this again. “I don’t know, Issei. I don’t think that I’d like that. It's not that I’m not up to trying things with you— I- I’d be more than happy to- It’s just- th—” You can’t bring yourself to really look at those deep, all-knowing eyes as you talk, but you really want to seem like you mean it. So you stare instead at his mouth. “This would be the first time I’m seeing some of your friends- and I’m not sure I’m even that much to look at—and-”
“I’d really like you to do it.”
It’s quiet in your apartment, apart from the gentle pounding of your heart between your ears. It’s quiet, and tense, and you dare finally look up to your boyfriend for a second to see how he sits so stoic, glacier-like beside you. Icy, and immovable. You can basically feel his displeasure radiate off of him. With a swallow, you lace your hands together on his thigh- you don’t want to upset him. You like Issei a lot, he’s a good boyfriend; even if he is a bit impatient on things he wants, or thinks he needs. “Babe, I’m just saying how it’d probably be better—”
“I don't know why you’re making it out to be something that’s so weird. I wanna see you enjoy yourself. I want other people to see you enjoy yourself because I think you’re beautiful, and you deserve it. But you don’t even wanna consider it, and you look at me like I’m some- some freak, for opening up to you. For even suggesting it.” His low voice is a little too sharp in the quiet of the house, he seems to notice it too, because he deflates a little. “I understand how you feel, I do, but— I don’t want you to think it’s weird…”
“But I don’t-”
“You do though, babe,” he says back, gripping your hands between his large, warmer ones. “I get why you’d say no. Because you feel like it’s weird, right? Like I’m pushing you into something? I’m not. And maybe I’m a bad boyfriend for asking, or a fucking weirdo- I don’t know-” He keeps going so fast you can’t even get a word in, eyes flicking from his face to the way he’s getting up from the couch now. You call his name, softly. But he’s not paying attention right now, letting go of you to pace around the room and staring resolutely down at the carpet. “Fuck, I’m… I messed it up, didn’t I? You think I’m a fucking weirdo now. I’ll leave. I’ll leave, that’s-”
“No, Issei—”
“I’m sorry, baby. I love you, I really do, but you don’t wanna do this and I shouldn’t even have brought it up. I know I shouldn’t have. I don’t mean to-”
“Issei!” You say now, biting your bottom lip as he finally, finally stops pacing the room to allow his eyes to rest on your slumped shape. Your eyes water up to have them all blurry by the time you look at him properly, wrapping your arms around yourself. It’s the first time he’s said he loves you. And though you don’t really believe in that being such a big deal, it is still enough to have your voice wobbly. “I don’t think it’s weird, I-” Your heart pounds a little too hard between your ears. But your tree of a boyfriend stands still to hear you out, so you bite through it. “W-we… I can try it.”
“No, I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’ll leave for tonight and we don’t have to talk about it again.”
“I want to try it, okay?! I want to—” you end up snapping now, bottom lip shaking and your arms like a protective cocoon around your waist. Everything just happened in the span of a minute and a half, and you have to take a moment to fully process things. But you don’t get that time to think, because Issei’s already back by your side on the couch and grabs your chin to angle it towards his face. Whatever panic he was feeling earlier is completely gone from his face now, as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. You can see how he tries to hold it back, but it still shines through a little. 
“You promise?” He presses his hands to your shoulders as if to ground you, staring into your soul so intensely it gives you goosebumps all along your arms. Ground you, or keep you in place, you guess.
+
There’s a sudden commotion in the back of the lecture hall that spirals out of control quick. One second you’re listening to the professor and diligently taking notes, the next people are shoving into you. Your pen falls, and you slip off of the chair, before standing up to look at all of the noise that now breaks out. There’s people pushing and trying to slip out of the circle that has formed, and a buzz of hundreds of people breaking out into confused mumbling. The professor all the way at the bottom of the hall can only watch in complete confusion and ask what’s going on, but you’re closer.
Tens of students push past to get out of the way, but you hear a few braver guys stand and hold their ground. “You can’t just storm in, there’s a lecture going on,” you hear one say, and despite knowing better, you can’t help yourself. You raise yourself onto your tippy toes, like most people in your row are doing, and try to catch any movement.
But you wish you hadn’t.
The eyes you meet are familiar, and you instantly feel yourself move past some of the students to get closer. People glare at you as you shove past, the professor still asking everyone to sit back down— but you shove through anyway. When you manage to make it to the double doors people have gathered around at the very top of the auditorium, you’re finally allowed a better idea of what the Hell’s going on, and; your stomach flips.
Mizoguchi, a blond well into his thirties, is the first to spot you. Next to a brunet you also recognize, Kunimi, and a bunch of other men you definitely don’t. “There she is.” The older familiar man has a stern voice, and an equally stern look- as you look around behind yourself. But he stares at you with expecting eyes, and a short temper. “Get over here, what are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” you squeak back, face going hot like a furnace when people around you now angle their confusion and anger towards you as well, and you feel the hostility in the circle rise more as you’re shoved towards the front. “No, I— What is going on?!” All of the intruders stay quiet, and you notice with a mortified glance past the door, there’s at least a dozen of them. “Wh-”
“Matsukawa was expecting you an hour ago,” the quiet brunet you’ve only had two conversations with in the last three months gives you a dark look, before shrugging. But you can tell by the harsh set of his jaw he’s nowhere near as unaffected as he’s making it out to be, and your anxiety only doubles at the sight. “You didn’t show, so he got worried.”
Your cheeks must be steaming up the anxious sweat you’ve worked up from your total embarrassment— the entire hall full of students talking among themselves. It’s horrifying, and you take a few steps towards Kunimi to stare between him and Mizoguchi, the only two of Issei’s ‘friends’ here you know by name. “I told him I still had two hours of class left,” you hiss under your breath, and search your back pocket for your phone; only to freeze.
“Hey, lady, can you leave? We’ll call security,” one of the guys speaks up from behind you, as he glances impatiently at his watch and then back at the group of you.
“No, don’t call security,” you immediately beg, and then hold up your hands. What if you get expelled because of this mess? “I’ll leave, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, it’s a misunderstanding.” You don’t even care about your bag right now, deciding to come back for it after hours or- or something- anything but right here, right now. You’re the first to push past the doors, trying your very best to ignore the cold shivers when Kunimi and Mizoguchi stay right by your side with sharp glares, and the sound of an entire brigade of grown men turn and follow in toe. The murmuring of the lecture hall haunts you as you walk down the hall with wet eyes; until you finally make it outside. “Mattsun knows I still have class,” you breathe out, suddenly with a voice more tears than actual bite— anxiety catching up with you all at once.
“He told you to come back home thirty minutes ago,” Kunimi only says, and doesn’t bother to do more than place a hand on your shoulder before leading you to the parking lot. And though you shrug his hand off with as much vitreal as you can manage, he stays much too close by your side for you to ignore him like how you really want.
You slam the door behind you with so much force you hope it shatters.
Your frown is deep enough to ache your brow muscles, and your voice can barely keep back the fury you feel as you round on your boyfriend. Who’s simply lounging in a chair, as his lazy eyes scan you top to bottom. “I see you made it home in one piece,” he has the audacity to chuckle, and you— lose it.
“Are you joking, Issei?! You get upset at me for being in class- and instead of calling me, or- or anything else? Y-then- you send your knockoff knights of the round table after me?!” Your thoughts come tumbling out before you can breathe, let alone think. “And not even— not even one or two of them either, but a whole brigade of people I don’t even know? Do you know how embarrassed I am?!”
“Raise your voice at me again,” he stands from the chair in one fell swoop, and is before you in all his height and intimidating glory in two steps, “I dare you.”
Your hands ball into fists, but your tongue seems to melt to the bottom of your mouth. As he picks you apart in one look, as he brushes your now-unruly hair out of your face and appraises you like he likes to do. But for the first time, it feels less like he’s cherishing a rare diamond, and more like he’s staring down the hollow eyes of some prized cattle. He lets the tension dissipate with a soft chuckle though, and wraps his large hand around your head to pull you into his chest, forcing you into a hug. You’re not really sure if you want to be mad, or cry. Or maybe both. “You were embarrassed?” Despite his seeming glee at the sound, you sniffle as you lean into him, sadly nodding your head up and down against the coarse fabric of his sweater. And letting your tears dampen it.
“‘C-course I was, why’d you send people I don’t know to come get me?”
“I was embarrassed to show up, dummy.” He whispers it into your crown, dead toned. You can’t even tell if he’s being serious. “You’re such an idiot, y’know that? Getting mad at me, at the guys, even though you were late.” You let him wrap his long arms around you, and you don’t even really know why. Maybe because his flat feels a lot colder than yours, and because you really want comfort. You’re not sure. But your face is hot and your cheeks are thick as they race down and find Mattsun, who squeezes you tight. “Aw, baby. My baby. It’s okay, it’s fine. So what if people talk, hm? You don’t need ‘em anyway.”
He pulls up your face to meet his, those dark eyes glittering in the low light of the room, and leans his forehead against yours. Irises full of undying devotion. “You have me, and I’d never judge you for something so silly.”
+
He’s hot against your neck as you breathe through it, and your body is ragdolled around by the man above you. Issei’s hair is a fluffy mess, his voice and his groans making your brain all fuzzy as he ruts into you. He takes a sharp breath, then kisses you long and hard as he drives his cock into the soft, warm pouch of your pussy. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” The panting and the heat between you both is so hot, your chest and neck and back all coated in a thin layer of sweat as he brings you down onto his cock again.
You can only nod, and bob your head up and down a little dizzily. Issei’s grin is sharp in the darkness, but so pretty. He makes you feel pretty. Your nails are dug into his shoulders and though he hisses at it when he moves, it only makes him want to go harder— you can tell by the way his eyes flick all over your body and his one hand grabs one of your tits to squeeze. “You’re not gonna disappoint me. I know you won’t.” Another kiss, another breath into it that turns everything messy. You’re basically shaking with how close you are to coming on his cock again, and the low tremble of his voice isn’t helping.
“Right?”
“Yes, daddy! Yes, yes, yes! I’ll be good for you~”
But Issei grips your chin and forces your face back to his, and you can tell he means it when he speaks next. “You’ll be good for everyone tomorrow.”
+
Your hands are shaking despite yourself, blindfolded as you wait in the middle of them room on your knees. Your skin is electric, and the cami and panties you’re wearing do nothing to keep you warm in the otherwise cold room. A few mumbles and giggles catch your attention every once in a while, but you do your very best not to pay attention. If you pay attention, you’ll start overthinking, and if you start overthinking— you’ll freak out. Issei wouldn’t like it if you freaked out.
Your deeper, more rapid breathing doesn’t go unnoticed, because a large hand comes to the top of your head to gently play with your hair. “Hey, calm down.” It’s Makki; the strawberry blond who spent the better of an hour getting you pretty for the ceremony. He’s your boyfriend’s oldest friend, apparently- but you know he mainly served as a guard of sorts. You’re glad to have him nevertheless.
Makki sinks to your level on his heels, before slowly sliding his hand along your neck and rubbing slow circles there. “Take a breath, pretty girl, you’re all tensed up. Mattsun will be here soon, ‘kay?”
“Do we have to have the blindfold?” you slowly squeak out, and a few soft giggles come from the back of the room. Though they’ve been laughing for the past five minutes, this one feels particularly cruel. But Makki hums, his voice warm and soft as he leans in to hover over your ear.
“I think you’ll be glad for it.” You’re not sure what that’s supposed to mean, only that it doesn’t exactly calm your nerves. You did promise Issei you’d do it, and it’d make him really happy. Or- would save you from further embarrassment maybe, because god knows his group of friends would jump at the opportunity to. You can basically feel them move around the room like hungry animals. You suppose Makki’s right. His hands are sweet when running down your arms, your thighs, putting you in a more comfortable position sitting back. He’s more quiet than normal when getting to your back, and slowly dips down to kiss the top of your spine with a deep breath. Then he lets out a noise of what you think is… excitement, and you stay totally unmoving under his touches.
You want to be good. You do, you really are trying your best— but why-
“Kunimi, come over here. You ready the things.”
There’s shuffling and walking, heavy steps that make your poor deprived brain even more on edge, before finally, Issei comes back. You can tell even by the way he walks, how the gravity in the room seems to shift all towards him. And he coos, walking up to you and allowing you to wrap your arms around his leg and nose at his knee. “Baby~ you look so pretty like this for us. So fucking soft.” He kneels before you, and though you can’t see him, you let yourself be led into a kiss, melting into the soft of his tongue, warm and familiar and tasting faintly of tobacco.
“Makki made you look so proper for us. It’s cute.” Then he gives you another kiss, and settles before you to move you up from the floor and into his lap, patiently situating you between his thighs. “Say ‘thank you, Makki’.”
“Thank you, Makki,” you mumble, starting to glow from the inside when the hands of your boyfriend start roaming along the edge of your panties to slide up into your shirt, drawing circles there. Somewhere in the room, Makki laughs, and hums softly.
“You’re very welcome, pet.”
The low voice then comes back, kissed over your ear as Mattsun’s hands move and slide the straps of your cami aside to let the fabric fall. “Now say ‘thank you, daddy’,” his growl doesn’t go unnoticed, hips rolled against you to give you shivers. His body is warm and solid against yours, muscular things, strong chest, hardening cock also being pressed to your body. His lips come down along your pulse to kiss there, and bite. You again parrot the words, and Issei chuckles softly against you. “That’s a good pet. Now baby, here’s what’ll happen.” There’s people that move again, at the instruction of Issei or Makki you assume, because there’s people everywhere. Behind you, surrounding the two of you on the mat, farther away too; it’s nerve wracking.
And a little exciting too, letting your boyfriend roll his hips into your puffy, covered pussy with a solid rhythm. “I’ll start you off, and I’ll finish you off too.” Another roll of his hips, and the thick length you still have barely gotten used to taking pushing into you as well. He squeezes your tits, before rubbing your perky nipples a few times and taking one of your tits into his mouth to suck and kiss. People around you makes noises, groans, grunts, belts unbuckling and the slow, familiar sound of fists wrapping around cocks that’s entirely distracting you, but it also makes you feel wet. You shuffle closer into Issei to get more of his touch, and to hopefully entice him to more touch. “But you will point, and whoever you pick will take care of you too, you understand?”
He laughs under his breath when you whisper his name and wrap your arms around his neck, quickly bringing them back down. “Who gets to fuck you is up to you, baby. All up to you.”
“Want daddy to.”
“Mhm, and I will, of course.” Suddenly there’s more hands on your body than just two, one wrapping around your wrists behind your back, one around your thigh, around your other thigh, one settling in your hair. Hands are everywhere, touching you all over. One even slips between your legs to peel the panties you’ve gotten all sticky aside, and you can only hope it’s Issei who chuckles and slides a finger between your lips, rubbing the wetness around your clit. “But before I’ll fuck you again, there’s just one little thing we need to fix. You see, because— some of the guys are… still a little upset with you.”
“I—”
Mattsun’s voice is amused as he leans in and shuts you up with a kiss, someone brushing your cheeks, someone slowly peeling the cami further down your body. A mouth comes to one of your tits and someone’s hands push further into your pussy and the loud, wet squelch of it spreading for the stretch of two thick fingers is almost too much to bear. There’s a heavy smell of aftershave, and all kinds of colognes you don’t recognize, and pants, and whispers— everything is so much. But Issei’s still kissing you slow and steady, and you force yourself to focus on that as your cunt’s stretched out with sloppy, scissoring motions.
“It’s an easy process, pretty thing,” you recognize Makki’s voice behind you as he trails a hand down your exposed spine and hooks his finger on the panties to slowly tear the lace apart. “Just a few little cuts… to prove that you belong to us now.” He laughs when you try to turn over your shoulder to look at him, pulling at your arms to break free. It obviously doesn’t budge, wrists only being gripped together tighter as you struggle a little. “Kunimi’s really good at doing a clean mark.”
“Wait, no— Issei, please.”
He, or someone else, shoves two fingers into your throat before you can say more, making you choke as another hand pulls at your head to expose more of your throat. Your clit is rubbed in circles and your head fuzzy as you’re lifted up and you can only hear Mattsun breathe before you, then head rustling of clothes being removed. There’s hands pawing at your tits as you’re hoisted up onto your legs and they’re spread wide apart, and your choked whimpers are discarded with all the spit and mess your body is creating. You try to cry out, but it’s of no use.
“Shhhh, play nice.” Issei presses a kiss to your nose, before the fingers are pulled out of your mouth and your head is pushed down more. And the heavy smell of Issei’s cock leaking precum is pressed to your lips, as people rub your clit, and suck your tits, and circle your asshole. “Be good for me, you promised, remember? Don’t make me upset now, baby.”
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boba-cafe · 2 years
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Yandere Ousuke Momokado hc
> yandere hc
> boba order: @saintshuji
> topping: power imbalance, yandere, dark content, obsessiveness, spanking, dubcon, noncon, brat taming, cervix fucking, chocking, overstimulation, orgasm denial, creampie, possessiveness,
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likes, reblogs, interactions are welcome
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♡︎ yandere Ousuke is most likely a feral, possessive, weirdly soft, and obsessive yandere you can have.
♡︎ Not necessarily sadistic, however, don’t play that game if you still want to be able to walk for the next few weeks.
♡︎ Yandere Ousuke can be a bit tricky- see, there can be a chance you meet him as a civilian, however, there’s a higher chance of meeting him as a mono and working under his and Mr. Fortune’s teller department
♡︎ It’s better to be a mono than a civilian with him. Ousuke is quite passionate about his work, so you are more likely to meet him in the so-called police department than outside.
♡︎ Fun fact- he’s a Virgo and an ISTP- I’m not gonna say it takes a lot, but it will be a challenge to get him to think about you romantically.
♡︎ I think it’s not hard per-se- one thing I feel Ousuke will admire as a yandere is someone who has their own opinion and has a flair in their personality. I think he loves to have a partner who is equally confrontational, but also submissive. He likes someone who works hard and plays hard, but is as soft as a bun bun if you get the idea♡︎
♡︎ Yandere Ousuke takes notice if you work hard- you may not be the strongest but if you show some form of intense concentration to work it can be the first step. Being hardworking too- Ousuke most likely likes to see how hardworking you are and that you are not an easy person to break down
♡ I feel too he like someone who looks hard but is quite soft- as I said earlier Ousuke may like to see a bit of tenderness- simple respect for others and just someone who is easy to talk to is a good contrast
♡︎ Much more blunt with his feelings- I think Ousuke may think that the feelings he has for you are considered a strong passionate love even if it’s clearly not that. He may start to suddenly orbit around you and start small talk.
♡︎ I have a feeling that he actually gets along with some of his subordinates- though we saw him with his rougher side I think when you’re talking to yandere Ousuke he’s much softer than he acts.
♡︎ Asking “ hows your day” “how you feeling” “need anything” etc. I think Ousuke will bombard you with a lot of questions just to hear you. He likes to hear his bunny whenever he can
♡︎ Yandere Ousuke is a big simp- I think he’s going to be very assertive about helping you with the workload or doing some for you.
♡︎ When I mean to do and help I mean he takes charge and does all of it while you sit on his lap. I wouldn’t argue with him about this tho- Ousuke won’t hesitate to grip on you tightly enough to be somewhat suffocating to let out a squeak. So it’s better to sit like a good bunny
♡︎ Ousuke expects trust obviously but Yandere Ousuke expects that not only you trust him but tell him every single thing that happens in your life. He expects that you tell him where you are, where you’re going, who is there. How many, if there’s another bastard- man there. His baby bunny better is honest with him- there will be no lies with him.
♡︎ Possessive- I don’t see Yandere Ousuke handling it well if you ever are seen with another man. He is grumpy if it’s Tsukuyomi but anyone else is dead meat. If someone he feels stares, breathes are even mention you they gonna end up in the hospital or even worse- dead
♡︎ The excuse is that anyone can be a threat to your safety and there is no other man than him who knows how to keep you safe. While this may be half the truth the other half is Ousuke likes to have all of you- all for himself. Sure it’s selfish to keep you on a leash and to force submission on you but that’s the fun game he’s playing here.
♡︎ Clingy or just very touchy- Yandere Ousuke is very touchy and when I mean touchy I mean
♡︎ His hands must be on your waist or hips at all times
♡︎ He holds you from behind
♡︎ Arms around you
♡︎ Hand holding
♡︎ Soft kisses turn to a make-out session
♡︎ You have to be on his lap
♡︎ Cuddle cuddles
♡︎ He sleeps beside you holding you closely
♡︎ Rejection is basically a cat and mouse game- to him, it’s a chase, and Ousuke being Ousuke loves a good chase- play hard you want but Ousuke doesn’t ever plan to let you go
♡︎ I advise that it’s best to say yes before he gets tired of the chase. As much as Ousuke enjoys chasing his bunny if he feels that he’s being teased too long- bun bun wouldn’t want Ousuke to be more feral than he already is.
Kink/punishments
♡︎ Overall: Ousuke punishments are going to be orgasm denials or overstimulation- sounds like a reward but in practice can be hell.
♡︎ Predator/ prey: Ousuke is already feral- and just an Ousuke thing he has a thing for chasing things. Ousuke has a thing where seeing you run like a bunny trying to hide from him makes his cock twitch. It’s cute- and he loves how your legs look when he finally caught you all on fours
♡︎ Brat taming: I feel like he likes it when his bunny thinks they can thump at him- why? It’s cute to see you all angry and flared up and then once your little tantrum he’s all up for grabs- he loves how your walls feel and how much you whine and moan to let you go- to stop when your body is nearly about to cum. It’s hypocritical when you want him to stop but your cunt always suck him in
♡︎ Forced submission: self-explanatory- Ousuke finds fun in life when life doesn’t make you work for it. The look he has on his face when you try to top off him and you try to hold off his touches make him want to be rougher- it’s a great small tease of you to just think you can hold him off from fucking your pussy against a desk
♡︎ Spanking: not a very sadistic thing but he just likes to see you squirm. Nothing much- it just makes him hard when he has you bent over on his lap, your ass is bare for him, and seeing you squirm each time he slaps. It looks like you really were asking for someone to make your ass sting. Luckily Ousuke is willing to give you as many as you can take
♡︎ Orgasm denial: this can be used as a punishment or not- If Ousuke feels that you’re being too mouthy or too much of a tease- he wouldn’t be so nice now. He was quite easy on you at first but now things got more heated. Once he has you down and any fabric on you is ripped off- he’s making sure his cock is deep in you but not enough for you to cum. Anytime you are about to cum he pulls out his hard length and slowly rubs your folds. The point is he won’t let you cum until he wants you to cum and he won’t let you cum until you beg for it. You’re not allowed to ever cum until he feels as you can that’s the overall goal.
♡︎ Overstimulation: one of the other punishments or so-called. Tho a punishment for you a reward for him. This can usually happen if 1. Maybe after a long orgasm denial, he starts to let you cum- and cum..and cum…and cum- he starts making you cum so much to tears- he also starts taunting you saying how you wanted to cum so badly and now you want to stop? No wonder why he is in control you’re too indecisive with what you want. 2. It when he been holding up a lot of pent up frustration or just really horny- better be prepared for a long night then
♡︎ Dom/sub dynamic: Lowkey a simp- Ousuke who always seems like he never knew the term soft will literally be soft. I think Ousuke can do soft fucks- usually when the moment is right. I also think the times he soft when he knows enough of your sex preferences. Ousukue is soft when it comes to being a dom in life. Wanting to be your only man in life also means knowing the roughness and softness of his bunny. A hard dom that can be soft when it’s needed.
♡︎ Chocking: Back to rough Ousuke- It goes along with him being a dom, top, chasing you like a dog, and all the other freaky things he into. His hands will naturally grab your neck while he has you shamelessly moaning when he’s fucking your wet cunt. Not strong enough to have you passed out but enough to feel dizzy. If you were passed out the fun of the night would end too soon for him.
♡︎ Creampie: one thing to be clear- he is not into having kids. To him, a brat just means no pussy for six months. Instead, he loves the feeling of his cock being milked by your pussy and continuing to thrust himself deeper into you.
♡︎ Marking: even if it’s not full-on fucking- you will most likely be marked. From your neck, down to your inner thigh and your pussy folds will be bruised with hickeys as a way to show you belong to him and only him.
♡︎ Sir kink: comes from the fact he’s a deputy commander and that he refuses to bottom. That’s a funny joke to him but he likes to feel like he has full control of everything that you- you yourself, your pussy, and your orgasm.
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minhavn · 2 years
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𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 《 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐈 》 : 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧
「 there’s more than meets the eye with HIM 」
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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : BDSM, heavy dom/sub dynamic, master/slave dynamic, dubcon/cnc, age gap, wax play, bondage, impact play, degradation, temperature play, marking [ feel free to add more ]
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : landing a spot for your internship program, you found yourself entangled with a handsome yet burdensome boss and at the same time, charming master in the club.
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The first time you stepped into the exclusive club downtown, you knew there laid a whole new world where only some people could see it. Never mind about being a regular, taking a peek inside the grand building was already more than enough for most.
But, thanks to your little connection and a bit of cash you had, it wasn't hard to be a holder of a silver card—one of the highest ranks one could achieve here and only a rank below the gold and two below the diamond, a rank that was only passed down to a family member of the founder of this club—something that even money and power couldn't attain.
To ensure your anonymity, it was a must to wear a mask and change your clothes inside the changing room beside the entrance before going to the lobby and ballroom to mingle with the other members. "This way, miss," a waitress led you to the hall before serving you a glass of champagne, pulling a chair for you as you scanned the room to find someone to spend tonight with.
Of course, it didn't apply to everyone. Some people in this probably had a contract and submitted only to one master when they felt connected and trusted each other after a while, forging a new bond on the paper under the supervision of the club themselves to prevent any trouble that might tarnish its reputation.
As one of the members who didn't have any contract, yet, you were here to find a master, hoping there was someone who wouldn't force you to submit like the last one—shuddering at the thought of submitting to someone unable to control their emotions and so easy to provoke.
A quiet screech from the chair beside you pulled you back from your daydream, finding a tall young man with half of his face covered by a black, expensive Colombina mask—looking at you through his thick lashes behind it. "Do you mind?" You shook your head, finding yourself intrigued and attracted to the mysterious man with a low voice, flashing you a halfhearted smile as you placed down your now empty glass.
"Even if I say no, you would still sit yourself, sir," you replied, getting chills down your spine as he chuckled lightly at your answer, propping his elbow against the table while resting his right cheek on his fist. "Correct," he replied, taking strands of your hair before watching them slipping away in-between his fingers languidly.
"You know, miss," he tilted his head slightly, looking at your hair—almost mesmerised at their appearance, "your hair reminds me of spider's threads," he snickered lightly, ruining your image of him. Yet, there was no hint of insult, he stated it as if it was a compliment one always receives in their daily life.
"When I was a child, there's this myth, saying how each thread a spider makes represents hope and fragility—and if they're combined and tied together, they can cast out bad lucks," he continued, keeping his eyes on your luscious lock of hair and then placing his hand on your upper arm, giving it a slight squeeze before standing up from the chair, blocking your view. "And maybe, you'll be my lucky charm for tonight," he looked down, hair casting down a shadow that covered the side of his face, giving you a glimpse of his chiseled jaw.
"Come to the fourth floor if you're interested. I will make sure that it's worth it for you," he let your arm go before walking upstairs, leaving you dumbfounded and almost losing your composure at the domineering aura he exuded so easily. "That was interesting," you muttered under your breath, looking at the fourth floor while thinking about how important this man was to have an access to the highest floor in this building.
You spent the rest of your night without doing any much, finding none of these people were entertaining or at least, decent enough to spend a night with. "Should I?" You gulped down your spit, threading your fingers through your hair as his voice ringing in your head, wishing your touch was enough to replace his lingering one.
Faint steps of your expensive Louboutin echoed through the soft, burgundy carpet; hiding your thumping heartbeat as you stood up in front of his room. "Here goes nothing," you knocked on the door and slipping into the room once you got permission to enter, taking one last glance behind your back before the door completely shut you off from inside.
The room was unexpectedly simple, there was no extravagant decorations nor expensive furniture made from sandalwood. There was a single king-size canopy bed with dark emerald green curtains and two nightstands beside it with a small table lamp on top on the left nightstand. "Take your clothes and mask off." His back was facing you and his tone was icy cold, making it hard for you to believe it was the same man who called you his lucky charm without knowing your name.
"It's not permitted to take one's mask off."
"Not when a diamond told you to do that, lowlife."
His voice dripped with venom, no honeyed words nor sweet smile accompanied it. Just pure menace and will to put you in your place as a lower class.
"How should I address you?"
"Master or sir will do, little one."
You went quiet for a while, thinking about leaving the room and telling the receptionist that you didn't feel safe around this man—meaning he wouldn't be able to meet you again even if he held the highest rank in this building. But, a little part of you were curious about how much you could do to push his button and how long he could last before you found someone else to be with next week.
After stripping your outfit down, you were hesitant to take your mask off; feeling suspicious of his motive and also curious about how mighty a diamond was as the direct descendant of the founder. "Done," you placed your mask on the nightstand, walking in his direction while wrapping your arms around your sides, avoiding his eyes when they scanned your body from top to toe.
"On your stomach," he gestured to the bed as you laid down on your back, burying your face into the group of plushy pillow, waiting for his next order or move. Without any warning, he put on a blindfold on you and shushed you from making any voice without his permission, massaging your sides and digging his fingers into fat of your thighs.
Pressing his lips behind your ear and below your jaw, his nails gripped your figure tighter and let his hot breath fanned your nape, watching it turning red like the tip of your ears with a lazy grin, noticing how affected you were by these simple touches he made.
"Should I continue with you here or leave you asking for more next time we see each other?"
His voice was low, but it was enough to make you scoff in frustration as he pressed your body into the bed, dipping both of his knees beside your body while trying to memorise your face and any distinctive features of your body, running his fingers over your ribcages before grinning from ear to ear once you let out a whine, already know the answer to his question.
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"I'll be in your care from now on." you bowed your head, taking a deep breath as your first internship program began to start.
As a daughter from a rich family, it was easy to land a spot in a big company—especially when it was owned by your parent's friend. The time your third year started, your parents had offered some companies that might help you with your grade and connection, asking some of their friends for some recommendations before giving the list to you.
Lucky for you, Choi Enterprise gave one of the highest position an intern could have and they also had stated in the contract that they'd give you a big amount of monthly payment with some bonus if you were willing to work as their eldest's personal secretary; something that even you wouldn't be able to ignore.
So, when you decided to take the offer and introduced yourself as the heir's personal secretary, you didn't know what kind of life that would you be led to once you saw him for the first time.
Due to his position, he had to leave Seoul at young age before coming back from the States to continue his family's business, finding most of it to be a nuisance and something he started to hate—giving him more reason to despise it when he's told that his parent's friend's daughter would work under him as his personal secretary for her internship for three months.
"Three months, huh?" He flicked the documents away before slamming them down his desk, looking at your unflinching figure with hatred and anger because he couldn't scare you, "it's quite long."
For you, three months were too short for an internship program. But, for him, it was too long because he would be stripped off from his freedom and work from nine to five or maybe more for the whole week without any break or some entertainment on weekends for the whole season.
"I'll take my leave now, sir."
You muttered under your breath, hating yourself for calling someone else with that nickname when it was reserved for him only. Lower lip jutting out before stepping out from your boss's office and entering yours, letting out a deep sigh after closing the door behind.
Taking your heels off, you massaged your feet and rolling the stockings down before putting them away, checking for any bruises or cuts after walking and standing on them for hours. Trying to apply some ointment over your cuts on the heels, you couldn't help but let out a huff and tossed it away on your table, finding it hard to treat your injuries inside your current outfit.
Sitting on your leather couch, you couldn't help but cursed under your breath before finally able to treat your injury, slumping against the seat while looking at the calendar in front of you, realising how bad this internship could get even when there was nothing wrong with the job.
The first day wasn't bad, but it was pretty boring for you. Some co-workers asked if the manager was hot or not, only to leave you alone when you wouldn't give his number (which you didn't have) to them, saying you were keeping him all to yourself.
Most of time you would spend hours in front of the computer, managing his schedules and also answering calls from other branches before bringing him his favourite coffee, finding it dumped into the trash bin because he wanted to drink tea one day. "I will buy you tea later," you replied, turning on your heels before he stopped you, motioning you to walk in his direction before giving you a stack of documents, asking you to throw them into the shredder.
Without asking much, you decided to do what he said before stepping out from his room, not knowing what kind of information they held as you put them inside the machine, leaving the rest of it to continue your work.
"What the actual fuck!"
If the walls can hear, you swore that they'd wish that they weren't able to because your boss was currently more than pissed at your negligence when a board meeting would be held soon and his reports were reduced to ashes, no lead and no collection of memory of it getting lost.
For the first time ever, you were actually scared of him. He was always mad at you, but this time, it was justified and you didn't know what to do to fix it. "I will print it again!" Walking to your computer, you were sure that someone had cursed today because it went dead and needed to be fixed for, at least, five days while the meeting would start in less than a week.
You weren't lying when you said you had to stay inside your office for three days straight while working on his reports to take a responsibility over this matter, letting out a loud groan before printing them and placing them on top of his glass desk with a smile, feeling actually proud for yourself to do this without your parent's help.
As a reward for finishing these documents, you decided to finally pay the club a visit after going MIA for the whole month, hoping the mysterious diamond would be there to see you again at the hall or maybe inside his room, if you were lucky enough.
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"I have to go now."
Running his eyes over your smooth legs, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel guilty for treating you in a harsh way when you were only a college student in their internship program yet landed on someone like him as your boss.
But, he knew it was the only way he could do to make sure you spend more time with him outside the club, enjoying every second as he turned you into his little obedient secretary, one who couldn't even question his decision or bother to check if the documents were truly gone. "What a dumb girl," he chuckled under his breath, looking at your perfect reports and comparing them to his messy and half-assed one, hiding them deep inside his drawer to avoid any suspicion.
Putting on his coat, he informed the receptionist about his personal business before leaving his office and going down to the parking lot, staring at your empty spot few cars away from his—realising that you had probably gone to the club before him. "What if she didn't go to the club, though?" He put his hand on the wheel, shaking the thoughts off his head and driving straight to the club, hoping that he might catch a glimpse of you, looking like a pretty dove as usual.
Entering the club, he made sure to fix his mask and straighten down his shirt, looking at the dance floor for any sign of you from the upstairs. "I thought she'd be here," he propped his cheek against his fist, eyes wouldn't leave anyone in white attires, wishing one of them were you before letting out a sigh of disappointment.
Twenty minutes before the clock strike twelve, he found the familiar sight of your mask, one that looked like a matching pair of his. The dress you wore hugged your upper arms and waist tightly, leaving some space as they fell gracefully from your figure, clinging onto you as you entered the hall without any effort to be noticed.
"Been a while, yes?"
Yeonjun flashed you a lopsided grin, guiding his hand to the small of your back before leading you into his room, fulfilling his promise to you.
There was no significant difference inside, except for the dark emerald waistcoat on the armchair, resting on top of a document. You weren't able to see it under the dim light inside the room, but Yeonjun knew his way and pinned you down against the sheet, pushing the dress up to your waist, running his thumbs along your inner thighs.
Spreading your thighs while keeping you in place, Yeonjun dug his nails into your skin before peeling your panties off slowly, staring at the semi-translucent strings before throwing it to the corner of the room. "Did you touch yourself on the way to here?" With a small nod, you confirmed his suspicion and earned a harsh slap on your folds, clit pulsing slowly before his thumb rubbing it almost incessantly, leaving no time for you to take a break nor processing whatever was happening right now.
"Face down, ass up."
Yeonjun was able to reduce you to nothing and if it didn't turn you on so bad, maybe watching him having a full control over you might work. His fingers pressed down a certain spot inside you, making you arched your back as he grinned at the sight, enjoying every curves and crevices of your figure.
Rubbing your ass gently, he took a candle on the nightstand before burning the tip, letting the hot wax dripping down to your back to test the water. He knew it'd be cruel of him to hurt you, but if he had a chance to do everything to your body for his pleasures, he'd always snatch it right away.
"M-master!"
You sobbed, shaking slightly underneath him as the burning pain kept you in your place. It started slow and easy, making you hissing slightly once it touched your back before it getting higher and closer to you sensitive parts. Hips, thighs and ass — you knew he purposely avoid the spot where you need him the most to intensity the pain.
Yeonjun stopped when the candle had lost most of its shape, running his thumb over the sore spots on your body after peeling the wax off and placing soothing cream over them. Examining each of them thoroughly, he made sure none of them would leave any marks or long-term injuries, giving you a sight to lay down a bit for a small break.
"Colour?"
"Yellow."
He gave you a nod, taking a glass of water before cradling your head in his arms as you drank it down. Placing the glass back to the nightstand, you couldn't help but snuggle up into his chest, feeling the warmth he exuded as he held you tight — almost forgot about how he treated your body few minutes ago.
Giving him a hint that you were ready to continue, you peeled yourself off his chest while staring at his belt, shaking the thought off your mind—which didn't go unnoticed by Yeonjun as he took it off and securing your wrists with it.
"Now, be a good whore for me and take whatever I give to you." He hissed into your ear, snapping his hips against yours with low groans leaving past his lips and the room began to be filled with filthy squelching noise and weak whimpers from you, trying to move your hands to find something to grab on as Yeonjun increased his pace.
"Stop it."
He landed a harsh slap on your thigh and buried his nose into your neck, pressing kisses and bite marks all over it—making sure everyone knew you were his only the time you left this room after he was done with you. Feeling your walls squeezed him tighter, he began to slow his thrusts down and pulled out, cumming all over your back—watching his seeds dripping down your thighs to the sheet, groaning at the sight while pumping himself again, not feeling like leaving you alone.
Not when you looked so sweet and vulnerable, on your knees and elbows while waiting for him to fill you up with his cums again.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 : @cherriruto @soobtnik @gyulz @y4wnjunz @nyfwyeonjun @rencarnationofangel @ddalggibyun @cha0thicpisces @/jungwons-crayola @sansluvr @yawnzzn420 @alienqbrain @lvefoolishh @marksluvr0 @minnieisntthicc
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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years
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Demon!Crepus Ragnvindr + Monster Fucking
— featuring Diluc Ragnvindr
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Summary: Living in a poor town that stays alive by bringing beautiful virgins to the Demon King, you are the next one chosen to be his bride. With no choice, you willingly go, expecting to be used and slaughtered, knowing brides tend to not live long under demon’s rules.
Warnings: gender neutral reader/vague genitalia description, feminization, size kink, fire play, blood, marking with claws, implied minor character death, voyeurism/exhibitionism
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— it’s been years since your little village had the protection of the Demon King, long before you were even thought about let alone born. But there was always a pride to protection.
— girls and boys of varying height, looks, and personality would be chosen by the Demon King to be his bride, only hoping for some entertainment. The first time you witnessed it, your sister had been chosen, her admirers distraught because she was to be wed to a monster of all things.
— the second time, you were chosen. A stroke of bad luck, the villagers would say, seeing as your parents were now childless. Everyone knew why he requested another bride — they died. He probably ate them or just got bored, but they always ended up dying. Everyone knew that.
— the ceremony was you being forced into a red and gold dress, uncomfortable as ever. But it was a requirement. After that. You were then to walk barefoot to the mountain that housed the castle of the Demon King. Barefoot meant no threat, so no matter how many rocks you cut your feet on or how slippery your blood got, you walked on.
— an offering to the Demon King was treated as though they were royalty, not as if they were a common peasant, but the tight dress stayed on, a bouquet of dying roses in your hands as one of the handlers brought you to a room. Which room? You didn’t know.
— left alone, you were finally introduced to the King, who told you to call him Crepus. His throne room, he sat on a golden throne beside a man- demon, who looked like him. Both watched as you entered, until you knelt down in submission, a quality that would keep you alive for a decent amount of time.
— You were then asked to properly present yourself. Fear coiled in your veins, the threat of death all powerful as his claws waved in the air, encouraging you to continue. Unable to refuse, with slow movements, you positioned yourself facing away, hiking the skirt of the dress up until the bridal undergarments were showing. You could hardly breathe, waiting for something to happen.
“You see, Diluc, one day you’ll be given brides like this one. They’re practically shaking from fear and humiliation. That’s how you know they’ve remained pure. A proper virgin bride,” is what he said, a gruff voice that seeped with pleasure. Tears escaped your eyes as you just lay there, waiting for something. “Do you wish to see more?”
“I think I will,” the man, Diluc, says. Your stomach drops and your shaking gets worse, blunt nails digging into the carpet beneath you.
“Good.”
— the next hour is you being playing with by Crepus while Diluc watches, your eyes unable to reach his. The ceremonial panties are ripped off as Crepus brings a sharp claw against your skin, running it along your inner thigh. The sensation is soft, making you shiver.
— a burning hot liquid is slathered on your skin, the oil making your body hotter and ache for touch. Even feeling the sharp claw of Crepus easing its way into your hole is welcomed, the scream accompanied with the pain muffled by your hand. You have to screw your eyes shut as pain rips through you.
— eventually, your brain is no longer hazy, your hole is sore and coated in dried blood, and you’re no longer on a floor before a throne. You’re on a luscious bed, clothes ripped to shreds as Crepus looms over you, his size much large than yours. He’s undressed as well, a heavy weight against your thigh.
— once you’re awake, he doesn’t hold back. Sharp claws digging into your skin as he completely bares your body to his eyes. Deep enough to make streaks of blood as you squirm under him, screaming as your weak hands try to push him away, but he’s unfazed.
— more of the burning liquid from before is poured over you, starting from your abdomen and drizzled over your sex, seeping into the nook and crevices it can find. You’re back to squirming, trying to get away from the heat. When the sharp claws from before slather the liquid outside of your opening, pushing in, you try to move away, not wanting to feel anymore pain.
— he hardly makes a sound, eyes absorbing every thing you do. When you’re breathless under him, energy sapped, he finally decides to claim you as his. His cock was the heavy weight against you, the head of it practically splitting you in two as he pops it inside of you. Breath leaves your lungs as you dig your fingers into the meat of his arms, his hands wrapped around your waist as he pushes himself inside.
— the pain is practically unbearable, but the burning liquid lessens the pain as he spreads you open. It isn’t until he’s so deep inside you that he stops, your hand coming up to your stomach to feel him deep inside. The small bulge moves deep inside, it bobbing as he thrusts in and out.
— he’s so big, your breath is knocked out of you each time. Unable to find something to ground yourself on, you just lay limp as your body twitches from the pleasure, eyes rolling as you give in. When your eyes close a bit too long, you’re screaming as a searing pain is pressed against your thigh.
— “No sleeping,” he grunts, wingspan extending behind him as a threat. It makes him look bigger than he is, but his claws become longer and sharper, digging into your abdomen and thigh. A quick glance shows burned flesh on your thigh, a dark red color staining his arm as more heat comes from his palm.
— tears escape your eyes and your consciousness is fleeing, but you manage to stay awake and somewhat conscious as he finishes staking his claim on your body, the fire inside you roaring as he releases deep inside, your legs tightening and twitching as he paints your insides. He doesn’t bother with gentle kisses or gentle touches, he just pulls out and scoops his hot seed back into you, massaging your walls with his shorter claws as he does.
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bajisbabe · 3 years
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! KINKTOBER ! MASTERLIST
→ minors and ageless blogs, do not interact ←
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photo cred (left to right): 1 2 3
(by clicking the “read more” button or “keep reading” button, you are implying that you are at least 18 years old, if not older, and consent to reading the content in this post.)
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Trigger Warnings: dark content, minors and ageless blogs DNI, marking, cum play, blindfold, light bondage, size kink, breeding, somnophilia, impact play, blood play, breath play, choking, knife play, stomach bulge, yandere behaviour, corruption, dumbification, mommy kink, gag, further warnings will be tagged in respective posts.
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“I’m waiting. A-patiently anticipating your arrival.”
10/04;
@ KAZUTORA — # WHAT LURKS BELOW THE WAVES
[Merman!Kazutora ; marking, cum play ; Kazutora is a naive merman who doesn’t know much and mistakingly comes onto the reader because of it.]
10/08;
@ HANMA — # SWEET GIRL
[Vampire!Hanma ; blindfold, light bondage ; You and Hanma are childhood friends, but you’re completely unaware of his secret. Whilst trying to keep it that way, he finds himself craving your blood more and more. By the time his secret finally comes to light, he is tired of waiting and decides to take a bite. And you’re a little too sweet for your own good.]
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“Take me out!”
10/13;
@ DRAKEN — # THE GUY
[Giant!Draken ; size kink, stomach bulge ; You stumble too far into the woods and come across an abnormally large man. As the sky grows dark, you accept his help. Over the course of months, you befriend each other. But there are feelings brewing beneath the surface. And he’s too scared to tell you how he feels because he doesn’t want to pressure you into anything, especially considering his sheer size could hurt you.]
10/15;
@ SANZU — # LOVE ME, LOVE ME
[Incubus!Sanzu ; somnophilia, impact play ; Sanzu is just so beautiful, so alluring, and so seductive. You had seen him time and time again in a reoccurring dream before you even met him. So when you woke up to him between your legs, you hadn’t thought twice.]
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“I’m gonna give you all my love in the backseat!”
10/18;
@ RAN — # E.T
[Alien!Ran ; breeding, stomach bulge, breath play, choking ; You make the mistake of helping a stranger you found outside of your apartment. He gets too comfortable, misunderstands your intentions, and decides to use you as a breeding tool for his kind.]
10/22;
@ ANGRY — # FRIDAY THE 13TH
[Burglar!Angry ; mommy kink, gag ; He’s down on his luck and has to steal to get by. But for some reason, he is drawn to you and makes a goal of saving up enough money off of his stolen goods to win your heart. But you rejected him one too many times, so he takes advantage of the unluckiest day of the year. And it seems you happened to be having such a bad day that you left your door unlocked.]
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“Bubble pop, electric! Bubble pop, electric!”
10/25;
@ MITSUYA — # SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS
[Dream Demon!Mitsuya ; corruption, dumbification ; You have recurring dreams of a purple-haired man who you’ve never met. And in every one of them, he’s trailing slowly behind you with a gentle smile on his face, luring you in after showing you intimate scenes you’ve never seen nor experienced before. And then the day comes when everything you’ve seen in the dream becomes reality, and you can’t seem to run away from the man who has followed you in your dreams.
10/29;
@ MIKEY — # SCREAM
[Serial Killer!Mikey ; knife play, blood play ; A stranger calls you up one night and you play along, getting somewhat flirtatious and even jokingly invite him in. He doesn’t take it as a joke though.]
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orchid3a · 2 years
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poly!yandere!1st gen black dragons x f!reader
tw:yandere, implied abuse, implied isolation, implied kidnapping, implied past punishment, waka and omi being the most terrible human beings, shin and benkei softly gaslighting, non-consensual tattooing, murder mention, reader doesn't have a good time, objectification, marking, cigarette burns, scars, swearing, sexual themes implied
note: poly!yandere!1st gen black dragons has a grip on my stupid brain
no proofreading
comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
english isn't my native language
this is for my beloved @p-antomime <3
based on this post and this post <3
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In the dark of your room, or prison as you call it, you lay on the bed. Your body is sore, your throat hurts for how much you screamed a few hours prior, you couldn’t feel anything other than soreness and fatigue.
How many hours passed? Sincerely you don’t care anymore. Even if you try to guess the hour, nothing could change. you would still be there, in that damned room, alone and tired.
On your cheeks there are still traces of your tears, now dried and a symbol of your despair.
You look at the wall trying to receive some kind of comfort but in vain.
Closing your eyes, your mind makes you recall all the happy memories you experienced in all your life before them…
They took everything from you: your freedom, your autonomy, your dignity, your dreams and your hope.
Now you can only feel despair and nothing else. Still lost in your thoughts, you don’t hear the door opening and various footspes reaching the bed.
“Waka maybe it's best, if we don’t bother her. Her body hasn’t recovered yet.” protests Keizo worried about you.
“Oh, like I care about what she likes or not.” Wakasa remarks codly.
Shinichiro sits next to you on the bed, caressing your head, kissing gently your stained cheeks.
“Princess are you awake? Do you need something?” Shinichiro asks, shaking you a little.
“Oi (y/n) you ungrateful brat, you better respond if you don’t want to get hurt once again.” Takeomi interferes, threatening you.
Optining for not making them angry, you open your eyes and with the help of, oh-so-kind Shinichiro, you sit up.
“I’m awake, Omi-kun.” you quietly respond. You try your best to not cringe after calling him like that.
You loathe calling them by their nicknames, acting like you are in some kind of relationship.
One time you had the brilliant idea to lash out on them, saying that you five didn’t have and never will have a relationship. You screamed that you despise all of them and they will never be your lovers but only captors.
Bad idea
Takeomi and Wakasa didn’t take your little outburst really well, and that same night, they punished you badly. Really bad.
Keizo and Shinichiro stayed on the sidelines, they thought you acted like a fucking brat. They don’t understand what you want, you can have everything you want. Just a word and the entire world will be at your feet.
Maybe you just need more time, so you can fall in love with them and then you five will be happy forever.
Your body still has the bruises of that dreadful night.
“Me and Benkei cooked your favorite dish, aren’t you hungry princess?” Shinichiro questions smiling.
You nod quietly, while Benkei covers your body with his gang jacket.
“Now let’s eat before it becomes cold.” he smiles before leading to the dining room.
Takeomi and Wakasa watch every movement ready to attack at your first error. Like predators ready to pounce on their prey.
You gulp, feeling their harsh gazes on your back, and stay as near as possible to the other two.
You ate as quickly as possible, so you could be alone in your room, without feeling their eyes on your body. It disgusted you so much, you felt dirty and violated in your intimacy.
Today luckily you can sleep alone, because they have to do something with the gang. Not that you care but that means you can be free for a few hours.
As soon as they got out of the house, not after reminding you what will happen if you even dare to think of escaping, you bolted in your room.
Collapsing on the bed you begin to cry and let out all your emotions. You can’t do this anymore, you can’t live like this. Waking up every morning with the fear of upsetting them at every chance, it’s tiring and you are tired of fighting against them.
You are all alone in this world, your parents are probably dead, your friends either dead or missing or abandoned you.
You sit up on the bed and make contact with the mirror near your bed.
You…
You’re the former shell of your old self, you’re a mess both physically and mentally.
Your dull (e/c) look at your injured body. Cigarette burns, scars, purple bruises, hickies, bites decorate your body alongside your new "present" from your so-called "boyfriends".
They tattoed their fucking names and their fucking gang’s logo on your body.
Between your breasts there’s Shinichiro’s name. He chose that place because “it’s my favorite place in the whole world”. He loves marking your chest with hickeys and now that there’s his name, he feels even more proud of his mark on your body.
Wakasa’s name is on your tummy right above your pussy, a reminder as Wakasa says “whose pussy is this”.
Takeomi loves seeing his little property uncomfortable, so he tattooed personally his name on your inner thigh, also a reminder of who fucks that sluttish cunt.
Keizo, oh sweet Keizo, he chose your hip so you could feel less hurted. He loves having his big hands on your smaller body and his name written on your hip is perfect.
If you close your eyes, you can still hear your screams when Keizo had to physically restrain you, while Shinichiro tried his best to calm you down. Takeomi and Wakasa prepared everything, and the bastards took great time listening to your screams and pleas to let you go.
If it wasn’t enough, they also inked their fucking gang’s logo on your back.
You are marked entirely as theirs and you can just despair.
Sobbing you plop down once again on your bed. Exhausted you fall asleep, hoping that when you will wake up you would be anywhere else but not there with them.
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