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#tw: not sfw
dear-yandere · 2 years
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acquiescence.
yandere! pierro / the jester x gn! reader. not sfw (18+) scenario.
› tw: cockwarming, power dynamics, dubcon, exhibitionism.
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“careful now.”
he warns with a bitter chuckle, but you don’t listen. you never do, these days, and he’s reminded of how you used to be so obedient, so malleable beneath him. he used to find it endearing, the way your body would flush and quiver from the slightest touch, the way you’d hang onto him as if you’d fall any moment. he would fill you to the brim with the desire you so desperately craved, but it was never enough. your greediness knows no bounds, and perhaps that’s what he’s adores about you. human greed is much easier to predict, much easier to manipulate, than a god’s.
but his patience only wears so thin.
your breathing has grown heavier since you’ve taken your place in his lap. your whines have died down significantly as you adjust to his girth, but the few that escape when you twitch are agonizingly wanton and just as pleasing to his ears — he’s hardly laid a finger on you and you’re already falling over yourself. he feels your hips buck against his own, daring him to put an end to your misery and just fucking move.
“my lord, please...” your groans are but mere whispers, and he can almost hear the fear and unease in your voice. your acting has always left nothing to the imagination; no doubt, your eyes are trained on the unlocked double doors at the far end of the main meeting room. someone could walk in at any moment and witness you in compromising position. they’d be better off dead if they spread any rumors, of course, but you can’t bear the thought of being embarrassed in such a manner.
“speak or i’ll force it from you.” he grunts, far too tired of your incessant whining to place any further delicacy in his words. he turns his attention back to the paperwork littering his desk, disregarding the soft whimper that made it past your lips. you instinctively turn your head to meet his gaze, but a large hand clamps down on your hip and holds you in place, the other quick to clasp your chin and force your gaze forwards. “and sit still... unless you’d prefer heading to your room without any clothes.”
your breathing stagnates, quick to comply where your mind dissents. an affirmative hum acknowledges his command. you’re more than aware of your nakedness even without his scolding. the sooner you can please him, the sooner you can escape the mortifying ordeal of getting caught in the first’s lap.
“y-yes, my lord. i apologize, i...” the words nearly choke you. ““i just can’t take it much longer.” you finally manage out, deliberately lowering your voice to a near pleading intonation. he is fond of that, you’ve come to learn, if the way his grip tightens around your hips was any indication. you’re playing a dangerous game; pierro isn’t one to show emotion past what was needed, and to draw out such a primal response from him was nothing short of exhilarating.
“is that so, little one?” he asks, and you feel a wave of hot relief wash over your naked body. that pet name of his, although degrading, is a good sign, an indicator that you’re getting through to him. he exhales deeply, adjusting himself against the seat, hips innocuously thrusting upward against your own. 
a loud moan rips itself from your lips before you have a chance to stifle it — the quiver and soft whine that follow weren’t nearly enough to satiate his longing. as much as he may complain, it wouldn’t do to have you stifle those sounds, would it? it isn’t often you display your desire for him in such a... lewd manner.
his finger twitches against the swell of your thigh. his voice is low when he leans into the nape of your neck and says, “and what do you plan to do about it?” his breath, hot against your neck, sends a shiver rolling down your spine. he bucks upward deliberately this time, and a delightful moan rolls off your tongue on cue. “you’re enjoy this,” he comments, relishing in the twitch of your shoulders as you stifle the urge to deny him.  “you yearn for me. don’t you, little one?”
“...” you hesitate to reply, unsure of how to respond to such a blatant observation of your person. it’s too late for you to regret the prolonged silence — his body tenses from behind you, and he has to stop himself from slamming you against the table and fucking you into absolute obedience. this defiance won’t last long. it’ll pacify you, placate you, but it won’t last longer than a few moments. within seconds, you’ll be squeezing his cock in that tight hole of yours, begging for a release only he can provide. 
but there’s no need for that, yet. giving into your pitiful squeaks would be no lesser than feeling pity for the squeals of a dying animal.
the hand on your hip is on your mouth in seconds, forcing your head into the crook of his neck. the harsh bristles of his beard scrape against your forehead, and you choke on your spit trying to gasp. even you’re unsure if it’s from lust or fear. he looks down at look like he would an insect, and for a split second, you wonder if he’ll crush your skull.
no...he isn’t done with you yet. 
“don’t you, little one?” he growls. there’s no emotion on his face when he asks you this, but you know what he wants. for you to give in. to whimper and beg for him more. to say with your body exactly what you want him to do with you.
tears prick the alcoves of your eyes, but you slowly nod. a hand hurriedly rests on his inner thigh and you hope it’s enough to convey your meaning.
“mm...” he hums and shoves a gloved finger into your mouth. your tongue quickly coils around the appendage, licking the dirty gloves clean if it means he’ll go easier on you tonight. the harsh look in his eyes doesn’t provide any sign of approval or comfort, but he lets you toy with his finger like a dog.
“you’ll know your place once i’m finished with you.”
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incensuous · 10 days
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tfw ur casually reading a hmanga and it turns out to be this emotional and realistic experience based on one of the authors' (?) actual experiences and the pair DOESNT GET A HAPPY ENDING (it's just left open and they dont get together) and THEN YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY HEARTBROKEN OVER A FRICKING HMANGA
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welldrawnfish · 1 month
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Fish HRT! PART 3 MONTH 2! TW BLOOD Featuring @deadeyedfae and @kaylasartwork
START PREV
NEXT BONUS EPISODE 1 made by the amazing @prettiestplatypus BONUS EPISODE 2 Collab with @kaylasartwork and @nyxisart
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
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✧ HEADCANONS FNAF | SMUT VERSION | MIKE SCHMIDT
★ TW: afab anatomy, pet names, degradation, dom!mike, v!sex, rough sex, blowjob, overstimulation, little praise.
˚。⋆.☆Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post, comments and reblogs are welcome♡
★ A/N: some people asked me in inbox if I watched the fnaf movie and the answer is: yes! I watched it with my boyfriend and it was a lot of fun, so I decided to write something about Mike yey >ㅅ<
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✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike is a stressed man, with all the pressure of taking care of his sister, the nightmares and a bad job - which can consume a lot of his energy - he will just want to be in your arms at the end of the day and preferably, between your legs.
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will arrive home tired, with a smell like men's cologne faint from the hours he spent at work, and a thin layer of sweat covering his face and back, while he desperately looked for you in every corner of the house, shouting your name. Schmidt won't even give you time to ration, as he lifts you onto the nearest firm surface and spreads your thighs - if you were wearing any shorts, he would desperately tear them off while he glues his face to your pussy, lubricating it with saliva and making circular movements with his tongue on your clit, enjoying every moan you made, every time you ran your fingers through his hair - pulling him even closer - Schmidt would moan against your sensitive flesh, looking you in the eyes before continuing to pleasure you.
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will fuck you all over the house when Abby is out or at school - kitchen, living room, balcony or anywhere that is empty enough - covering your mouth with his hand, while he shoves his thick, pulsing length into you , without any protection. He's the type of man who likes to spill every drop of his seed into your womb, painting your spongy walls pearly white, while grunting and praising you, telling you how good your pussy is for his dick, he likes to call you a "hungry little slut" with each hot jet that comes out of him, while he smiles and growls when he sees your expression of lust.
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will leave you breathless, pushing you against the cold bathroom sink as he forces you to look in the mirror, you can see the dark circles under his eyes, his naked body against yours, how his cock slides against your wetness easily as he grabs your chin with his fingers - putting enough force to turn the tips white - He would see every reaction, every moan or scream that came out of you through reflection, roughly grabbing your hip with his other hand. His balls would already be wet from your juices with his, while the sounds of skin against skin could be heard echoing out of the room. "-Yes...Ah- Fucking hell my darling, your pussy swallowing my dick... just like that, keep it up please." he moaned hoarsely, as he looked at the sight of your wetness swallowing and repelling his shaft, with each rough thrust he made. "-You're such a good little thing for me, I'm going to give you every last drop of cum, right?"
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will make you get ready for him, putting on your best clothes, putting on perfume and makeup for him, just for him to fuck you doggystyle on the bed, pulling your hair to expose your neck while deeply marking your soft skin with his teeth - From the intensity of his hips, you could tell how angry he was at everything and everyone that night - you could hear him grunting and grumbling about some pay cut or how he didn't get a promotion to improve your life. He will take out all his anger on your pussy, leaving you a mess, your makeup was smudged, your clothes were messy or even torn in some corner of the room, you were at his mercy, while his fingers roughly rubbed over and over again on your clit - making a delicious combo with each violent thrust deep into your core. He will degrade you while fucking all your tight holes. "-You're my favorite slut." "-You asked for this didn't you? You're a needy whore for my dick- Mmm-" "-You're a cumdump for me, needy and a quivering mess for my dick."
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will love putting you between his legs, your knees hurt from the weight and hardness of the floor. His dick pulsed as you forced yourself to swallow everything, looking at him relaxing with each provocative yet relaxing and hot movement, while the head of his dick beat rhythmically in your throat. The wet sounds and muffled moans about his member made him grunt, throwing his head back, grabbing your head with his left hand while his right hand held the side of the chair, he was going to encourage you to go deeper. "-Please baby, be a good boy/girl and make me cum... Swallow it all for me ok?"
✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike loves lying in bed completely naked, with his cock exposed to you, while watching you rub your pussy over him, he would be sleepy and tired, but the sight of you rubbing your wet pussy over him, looking for a release for everyone Your repressed lust was enough for him to stay awake for up to a few hours, resting his hands on your hips and squeezing the soft flesh of your ass as he moved down. Their eyes would be seeing the cum leaking from the tip of his dick, his crotch totally dirty, as he smiled at you, closing his eyes. "-Keep having fun baby... I'm here for you."
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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demovamp · 2 months
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breeding jjk men (ft. satoru, nanami, choso, & sukuna)
cws – gn!amab!reader, breeding kink, ftm!characters, mentions of pregnancy/belly swelling, sukuna lactates, nanami & choso might be ooc, written at 2am, not proofread, lowercase intended
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SATORU GOJO :
with satoru, it's a slip of tongue. it could've come from either of you, but in the high of pleasure, all you two cared about was the fact that the word “breed” had made it's way into the air. so, you did what any reasonable person would do;
you grabbed satoru's hips and lifted them off the bed, pushing your dick further into him. your dick plunged into him at a fast, desperate pace. satoru kept his legs spread as best he could for you. his moans and pleas were loud and desperate.
“please, [name]! oh, fuck! right there! fuck me full! don't stop! i want to be fucking leaking your cum… breed me, please. make me a dad, [name].”
and who are you to deny your pretty sorcerer what he wants?
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NANAMI KENTO :
nanami is a different story. he doesn't even know he likes the idea of being bred until it slips out of his mouth. he's so composed and together in the beginning, but, fuck him long enough, and he starts telling you all his fantasies. it started with you pulling his hair, then choking him with his tie, then fucking him on his car… bredding, though, is unexpected.
“[name], [name]... i can't - hah… i need more. i need you to cum in me. make me a dad, get me pregnant.”
your hips abruptly stop, dick still buried in his warm hole. you lean over your lover, touching his cheek. “you want a baby?” you whisper. nanami only nods. the look in his eyes show he's still hazy with pleasure, but coherent enough to make such a demand.
it doesnt take long before you're pounding imto him again, condom discarded somewhere. despite the rough pace, you're holding nanami's hands and kissing him repeatedly. “you're taking me so well, love. fucking made for me. you're gonna be an amazing dad. promise.”
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CHOSO KAMO :
choso is shy about it. he brought it up because he wanted to experiment from a story he read. he surprises you by laying in bed, naked with his legs spread, pussy on display. a shakily written ‘breed’ and an arrow pointing between his legs were on his stomach. the sight made you chuckle. “you're adorable, cho.” you whisper, kissing him sweetly as you prep him with your fingers. it's only a few minutes later until choso is falling apart on your dick.
“mmph! ah, ah, ah… i… so fast… oh my – ah! [name], [name]... i'm – so good. i like it. i love it. i love you. i love you, i love you…” his confession only spurs you on, thrusting into him rapidly. “i love you, too.” you murmur, wandering kisses landing on his skin gently.
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SUKUNA RYOMEN :
sukuna… is a stubborn bastard. no matter what position he's in, he's making demands. he likes just about anything during sex and he'll make it known. this time is different. you found out a secret of his – sukuna lactates. it was an accident, really. you grabbed at his pecs and gave a little squeeze. milk spurted out from his nipple and landed on his chest.
sukuna wasn't embarrassed. more so, pissed off. he was about to say something when you squeezed again, watching more milk dribble out from his nipple. a small whine escaped his mouth at the sensitivity.
no words were said as you resumed your movements, fingers playing with his nipples, watching more and more milk come out.
“awh… look at you. a needy whore spilling all this milk. such a shame it's going to waste…” you coo at him, slowly brushing your thumb over his leaking nipple. “maybe i should get you pregnant. stuff you full, watch your belly swell with my kids…” you smirked at sukuna, watching him break under you with every thrust. “you'd like that, wouldn't you?” he hissed, attempting to give you a look of hatred. problem is, sukuna's eyes always betray him during sex. his usual pissed off expression is contradicted by the haze in his eyes and the redness of his face.
“well? go on then.” he muttered afyer a few moments of silence. his legs spread slightly more, letting your dick push deeper into him. "if you insist."
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autismdogg · 3 months
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💜🌈 ~ Puppy Love ~ 🌈 💛 (earth2starburst)
(Credit if you use) (ko-fi)
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merakiui · 4 months
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never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.
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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.
An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.
It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.
But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.
Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.
Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.
Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.
The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.
Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.
You can be loved.
Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.
Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.
Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?
Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.
He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.
But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.
Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.
Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.
Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.
Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.
Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.
A mother.
You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.
Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.
There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.
He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.
The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.
“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”
He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.
These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.
Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.
Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.
Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.
Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.
In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.
He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.
Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.
At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.
He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.
You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.
Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.
“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”
Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.
Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.
He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.
He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.
This is love.
Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.
You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.
He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.
You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.
A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 
Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.
Oh, he came inside.
Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.
An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.
This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.
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ahappyphjl · 6 months
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hips don't lie
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nickgoesinsane · 11 months
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Imagine Jessica (spiderwoman) calls up Hobie to tell him he's got a mission and he's like "Nah got eggs laid in me I can't" and ur laughing in the background because 1. Jess herself went to work pregnant and 2. they aren't even fertilized. He just wants an excuse to have your dick in him some more
-🍽️
“Sorry, Jess,” Hobie says unapologetically, and she gets a clear view of your head tucked into his neck. His grin falters with a grunt, and his eyelids flutter. “Got, mmm, some eggs inside me right now. Can’t go. Y’know how it is.” 
“Hobie.” Jessica sounds tired, and you don’t have to look at her to know she’s giving Hobie a disapproving look. “Stop answering calls when you’re having sex.” 
“Stop callin’ then.” Hobie slurs back, gasping and digging his nails into your back as another egg stretches him open. He forgets about the call and tightens his legs around your waist, his cock drooling against your stomach. “Oooh, fuck, yesyesyes—”
Jess rolls her eyes and hangs up.
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gyomei · 20 days
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storks ☆ sukuna ryomen.
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・SYNOPSIS: one out of every five storks, there's a black one, differentiating itself from the rest. ( 2.2k words )
・CONTENT: minors, ageless & blank blogs do not interact ! afab!reader (unspecified pronouns), modern boyfriend!sukuna ryomen, sexual content, dubcon/babytrapping, unprotected sex/broken condoms, mating press, breeding/pregnancy kink, not proofread, etc.
・SIDE NOTE. i hate babytrapping but if sukuna did it to me??? he's all forgiven. and im having every single child he puts in me.
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One out of every stork, there’s a black stork that cruises through the clear blue sky. A white fabric, thick and secure as a slumbering baby is being transported to their new parents— or parent. Unlike the bright white of the typical stork, these black storks are dangerously dark. Feathers that are pitch black as its wings expand and seem razor sharp. When it perches down on the concrete sidewalks to approach the steps, its swift motions go undetected in comparison to its white counterpart. 
From one night stands to infertile people that started losing faith, the emotions one goes through when finding out that their pregnancy always differs. Excitement to sheer terror, reluctance on keeping the child to the controversial decision that they’re not ready to be parents. However, Sukuna can hear the faint steps of the black stork approaching the steps. Orange webbed feet that platter against the wooden porch, and the faint sounds of a baby starting to cry. It’s surely taking its time. 
The plenty of times you’ve voiced that you don’t want to have children. Sukuna has always respected your wishes. You’ve voiced out your insecurities and fears to him— told him that you just don’t think you’d be fit as a parent. However, you’re someone who works with children on a daily basis. He’s seen how you’ve interacted with the children, always so loving and nurturing. You would put your foot down when needed, but there’s no doubt in his mind; you’d be perfect. 
Swollen belly being his constant reminder that all it took was an orgasm in your warm and comforting heat, Sukuna can feel himself getting excited at the sheer thought. Yes, he respects your wishes, acknowledging your fears when it comes to parenthood. However, he’s always wanted children— for selfish reasons or not— and he wants to have children with you. Yes, there are plenty of other people out there that can fulfill his wish; where their ideologies align with his and they’re confident that children are something they want in life. However, he loves you. 
He loves you too much. And he knows that if he persists that you won’t be afraid to leave even if it will be hard. That’s why when he punctures a hole in all of his condoms, he doesn’t feel any guilt. Instead, he has a million and one reasons on why this is right. It will be like intertwining each other’s souls, and that sounds poetic enough for him to keep forward with his idea. 
Sometimes you fear that you indulge in Sukuna’s fantasies a bit too much. While you’re adamant on being child-free for all of your life, Sukuna still grasps onto whatever hope he has left. When you both first started dating, it never dawned on you how important it is to discuss your future and what your plans are. What were you supposed to do— ask the man you just met deep, thought-provoking questions on the first date? And even when it passed the fifth date and the two of you decided to solidify your relationship, you had forgotten to ask those vital questions until two years in. 
One day, Sukuna had to pick you up from work when your car broke down. You worked in a primary school setting and when you walked out of the building, Sukuna watched as you said goodbye to the students that recognized you. They would run to give you a hug before neighboring adults would rush them over to their parents. Your eyes would light up despite the exhaustion etched into them as you’d wrap your arms around each child that came up to you, bidding them farewells before finally pulling on the car handle and jumping in. Mumbled greetings before he’s driving out of the school parking lot and speeding towards the direction of your apartment. 
His mind was elsewhere, tuning out the music you started playing, the auxiliary cord plugged into your phone. He just kept driving and the question came out of his mouth before he could really think about it. “Would you ever have children?”
The moment the two of you had opposing views on having children, you should’ve ended it there, but Sukuna said he would respect your decision and thought he could live a child-free life as well. So, you gave it a chance. 
But then, at some point during sex, he said, “Fuck, you’d look so good with a round tummy—”
He ramble on about how he’d fuck a baby into you, make you round and swollen as he would breed your pretty pussy. And gosh, you should’ve really put a stop to everything there, but your heart would race and your cunt would clench around his cock. A maniacal grin would grace his features and a deep chuckle reverberated from his chest. “You like that don’t you? Like that idea of me making you pregnant?”
With a weak whimper, you nodded. Because in that moment of bliss, your mind was hazy and you did like the idea of it since that was all it would ever be. However, you’re wondering if playing into his fantasies makes him hopeful that someday you will change your mind. But like a donkey, you’ll always be a stubborn ass. 
And he’s all too aware of this. He guesses this is what makes tonight the most exciting. A sinister daze in his eyes as he’s got your knees pressed to your chest. Your pussy is exposed to all his glory, lips glistening in your juices as his length dances in between them. It never fails to amaze him just how beautiful your cunt is. His length wrapped in latex, the barrier a greedy obstacle hindering him from feeling the entirety of your slick heat. However, he knows that he’ll get the job done nonetheless. 
Holding the base of his heavy and uncut length, the mush tip presses against your entrance. Small bubbles forming as he glides himself in between you and watching as you clench around nothing. A guttural groan escapes his lips, his chest vibrating as he hovers over your expectant body. A shiver runs down your spine as your breath becomes shaky, your patience running thin the longer he takes to bask in your nude presence. “Ryo…”
That nickname you mutter out from below his breath. It snaps him back into reality. You have such a horrible habit of biting down on your bottom lip and it only worsens when he dips down further. You can feel his breath against you, his body heat making you sweat as his chest rises and falls. Blood red eyes that are so piercing that it reminds you of how intimidated you were when you first met him, yet felt undeniable attraction towards him nonetheless. The tattoos that course through his body only add to your lust as your eyes traverse his stature. 
He grabs your bottom lip with his teeth, biting down on it harder than you were and eliciting a sharp squeal from you. Sukuna chuckles, letting go of your lip before kissing you. A forceful one, but still drags out a whimper from you as he slowly thrusts inside of you in one go. For a moment does your body tense, stomach tightening up as you feel every inch of him bottoming inside of you. Your mewling is like music to his ears as he halts his movement and holds you still with all of his weight. He breathes you in, the faint hint of orange and ginger underneath the sweat starting to build up. You’re intoxicating. 
“Got what you wanted?” his deep voice rumbles inside the room, watching as your shut eyes flutter open. You nod meekly, “yes.”
There’s a shit eating grin on his face before his length is leaving your pussy again. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding before you’re taken aback by his unexpected invasion. Rough thrusts inside of your pussy that has you clinging onto his back. You’re nicely manicured nails digging into his skin, but he always loves the marks you make. 
“Gosh,” you cry out. Your grip on him tightens as your back arches off the bed. Baby blue silk sheets that are going to get ruined after this escapade, they ruffle up with every movement. “R-Ryo, fffuck!”
The way he presses his weight down on you, forcing you to feel every inch of him. He’s unforgiving and surely after this, your legs will be aching to no end that you’ll have him bring you to the bathroom. Still, your pussy pulsates around his length, beckoning him to get impossibly deeper inside of you. You just don’t know what you do to him. 
You just don’t understand the power you have over Sukuna. How you’ve unknowingly tethered your soul to his, entangling each other to the point of no return. His heart rate picks up and with every thrust inside of you, he’s determined to further trap you into him. Gosh, what he’d do to pull out and rip off the condom. To feel your pussy in its entirety. He has before, but you were on birth control. Now that you’re not, he wants to be even more selfish than he’s already been. He wants to shamelessly rut into your sickeningly sweet pussy and fertilize you.
His hands find purchase on your hips, calloused palms holding you tightly as he easily controls your movements. Plunging inside of your pussy, dragging you down to meet his thrusts. He feels like with every breath he’s taken, it’s getting shorter as his desires heighten. “Fuck yesss…”
His mind is starting to get hazy, his delusions intermingling with his lust as he goes into this headspace that you can’t quite name. Something that you’ve come too comfortable with ignoring, absentmindedly feeding into it as you’re stuck in your own mind. “Finally gonna breed this pussy. Gonna make your stomach all round with my child— our child.” 
He just can’t completely wrap his mind around it. You claim you don’t want children, yet your pussy clenches every time he’s gotten you like this. Your heartbeat picks up and you bat your eyelashes so prettily as you nod your head and tell him ‘yes,’ that you’d do anything for him. He’d wipe away a few stray tears as he gets reassurance once more. You’d both come together, but the moment you slip into the bathroom, you take those precautions. 
Sukuna thought that he could handle it, not having kids, but he knows himself. Once he wants something, he’s got to have it. He could break it off with you and find someone else, but he wants you. He has to have you. An incredibly selfish man, he refuses to let go of you. 
He grabs hold of your face, forcing you to look up at him as salted tears drip down the corners of your eyes. “Imagine it,” his gruff voice whispers. “Your stomach’s all round and plump. You’d be so good— such a good parent. You’d make me so happy.
“Don’t you want to make me happy, baby?” He squeezes your cheeks, crimson red staring into your pupils as he waits, genuinely expecting an answer. Eyelashes fluttering as a stray one stings your eyes, you nod. A weak whine leaving your lips as a raspy ‘yes’ falls from them. 
“I’d do anything for you, Ryo.” Once empty promises are now coming true, you have no other choice. You don’t realize what you’ve said, your mouth moving in muscle memory as you cling to him. He drills into your pussy, swallowing your cries with his lips as he kisses you with such fervor. The hairs on the back of your neck stand tall as a part of you feels a bit uneasy. His words, the tone he’s using with you is foreign. Like, he knows something you don’t. But there’s an excitement that you feel that begs you not to pull away. That familiar tug in your stomach breaking and making you forget about everything in the moment.
“Ryo,” you whine. “‘m g’nna—”
“That’s right, baby,” he grins from ear-to-ear. “Cum for me. Let’s make a family.” 
You don’t catch the last part, simply letting go as his words are enough encouragement for you to let loose. You feel his cock twitch inside of you shortly after and your cunt is quick to milk him dry. Moments like this, you yourself would love to rip off the latex barrier down below, too. But, you have self-restraint. 
As Sukuna calms, finally dragging himself out of you and leaving you empty, you let out a deep breath. Aching legs that straighten out on the bed as your body starts to relax. You moan as your legs ache and feel Sukuna’s heavy body fall down right next to you. There’s some shuffling before you feel his big arms wrap around your body and feel the heat of his mouth against your neck. Soft, chaste kisses that are painted into your skin. You can’t help the weak giggles that leave you as you push yourself deeper into his body.
“I love you,” he chants out. “I love you so much.”
When you finally fall asleep, Sukuna’s still awake as his eyes travel the course of your body. Arms wrapped around you, he sighs triumphantly to himself. “You’re gonna make a perfect parent.”
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one (1) notification from gyomei plays ! the way i detest reading about babytrapping, but was fantasizing about doing this with sukuna... what's wrong with me???
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ghibli-stims · 4 months
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🦴 -> Bones (Animal Crossing) Stimboard !
📦 -> with cozy & related stims !
📬 -> self indulgent !
📔 -> 🐶 - 🐾 - 🐶 / 🐾 - 🐾 / 🐶 - 🐾 - 🐶
🔓 -> Requests Are Closed ! Request Rules !
DNI -> NSFW/Kink/Etc. A Minor Runs This Blog
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thetinyblossom · 21 days
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🌱Insect Agere PNG’s🌱
-> F2U
-> With beetle’s and other insect related toys, pacifiers, teethers etc
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it-happened-one-fic · 1 month
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Hi, sorry to bother you but I would like to ask for a post from Leona, where Cheka is trying to get her two favorite people married (ie Leona and the reader)
Hi! Sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, but over all I had fun too. I hope you enjoy!
Duly-Noted - Leona
Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ sfw/ featuring Cheka/ request
Word Count: 1790
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Leona huffed out a sigh as he watched Cheka play with you on the floor of the Ramshackle dorm from his relaxed lounging on the couch.
It hadn’t taken him long to figure out his nephew’s scheme when, as soon as the little fuzzball had appeared, he’d cheerfully stated that he wanted to come and play with you. Of course, Cheka had given himself as soon as he’d included his demands that Leona come along with him, even though he’d been to visit you at Ramshackle dorm plenty of times on his own.
Cheka was definitely fond of you, and Leona couldn’t really blame the kid considering how you patiently played along with the child. But that wasn’t what was really going on here.
What was going on here had more to do with Cheka’s pressing questions about why Leona so often told family members that he wasn’t particularly attached to anyone at school.
He could still see Cheka’s bright eyes looking up at him with an insistent frown on his face, “You know that is true, Unca! You like Y/n!”
Leona had snorted at his nephew, shaking his head at the child and, for once, was genuinely amused, “And what makes you think that?”
“You look at them the same way Papa looks at Mama. And Y/n likes you too! Why don’t you just take them home with you? Then you don’t have to worry about leaving them here while you visit us!” Cheka was as determined as Leona had ever seen him, but it was a drastic misreading of the situation.
Leona had plenty of reasons to not want to visit home, and none of them had a thing to do with you. But the moment he’d told the child that, Cheka had smiled. 
He’d been all but beaming up at Leona from where he sat on his lap, hands fisted in Leona’s shirt like he thought his uncle would run away, “But you do like them.”
There were moments, like right then, when Leona almost wondered if Cheka was more intelligent than his father. Perhaps he’d taken after his mother in that sense. But then Cheka’s hare-brained plot for tricking you and Leona into a relationship certainly hadn’t been well schemed.
After all, Leona wasn’t the only one who'd caught on. You had, too. Though, to be fair, Cheka wasn’t exactly being stealthy with his questions about how, “Wouldn’t it be great if we all lived together?”
Leona had fully planned on handling it, but you'd only smiled, shaking your head and saying you’d talk to Cheka about it, “He’s just a kid after all, and he doesn’t mean any harm. There’s no need to come down on him so hard.”
Leona had only eyed you with rising eyebrows before shrugging, “Have it your way. But he won’t drop this easily. He’s a stubborn little thing.”
You’d snorted, elbowing him lightly as you went by to rejoin his nephew, “Must run in the Kingscholar family.”
And that had been that.
Truthfully, Leona hadn’t known what you’d told his nephew, but Cheka had fallen largely silent on the matter of a possible romance with you after that. 
In hindsight, though, Leona really should have known better to think that was all there was going to be to it. Nothing was ever that simple. Especially when you or his nephew were involved.
He had to hand it to Cheka, though; he’d been completely caught off-guard when the child had suddenly questioned him about his wedding plans. Especially since it happened during a trip to Sam’s with Ruggie.
Cheka held up the little ring-shaped lollipop, and before Leona could even start to refuse to buy the treat for him, the child spoke with innocent curiosity, “What kind of ring are you going to get for Y/n when you two get married?”
Leona blinked, his eyes widening as he stared at the child who just stared up at him while Ruggie did a spit-take and Sam’s eyebrows lifted. The only sound that broke the silence was the occasional beep as Sam continued to scan items.
Leona finally frowned, crossing his arms as he eyed the child, “What makes you think I’m going to marry the Herbivore?”
Cheka frowned almost immediately, as if he were trying to mirror his uncle’s expression, “Y/n and you like each other. But Y/n said they couldn’t move in with us until you two had gotten married. They said people would talk since we’re royals and they aren’t if you didn’t.” 
Cheka’s expression slowly shifted to one of concern, his tiny hand reaching out and grasping Leona’s pants leg, “You are going to marry them, aren’t you, Unca? Y/n’ll be sad if you don’t.”
Ruggie only barely managed to contain his laughter in an ugly-sounding snort that had Leona shooting him a look while a smile began to creep across Sam’s face.
“Did they?” Leona’s gaze shifted back to his nephew as he spoke, his tone careful as he eyed the child. But he was already putting two and two together without Cheka having to say anything.
You certainly had talked to Cheka about it, but now Leona was going to have to talk to you about this.
Ruggie wiped his eyes lightly before kneeling, humor still flooding his voice even as he eyed Cheka, “Well, marriage is a pretty big deal, Cheka. Leona can’t just go proposing without putting some real thought into it.”
Cheka frowned, but Ruggie only titled his head, reasoning with the child easily, “Y/n deserves the best, don’t you think?”
Leona watched, eyebrows raised, as Cheka frowned thoughtfully before his tiny face cleared like a sun coming out from behind clouds, and he nodded, smiling widely, “Oh! I see! Leona wants to sweep Y/n off their feet like those princes in the stories Mama likes so much.”
Leona didn’t even bother hiding his groan as Ruggie snickered mischievously, nodding and egging on the child, “Exactly, so you’re going to have to give him some time to do just that.”
Ruggie paused, glancing up at Leona with a grin that had Leona glaring at him warningly. But the hyena beastman was hardly even phased as he looked back at the child seriously, his eyes sparkling with poorly disguised mischievousness, “We’ll both have to support him, Cheka.”
Cheka’s expression turned determined as he nodded before looking up at Leona, “Good luck, Unca!”
Leona sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an annoyed, “Uh-huh,” as he watched Ruggie lead his nephew out of the store.
 He would get Ruggie for what a mess this was inevitably going to end up being, as well as deal with whatever the little mercenary wanted in exchange for his assistance later. First, he had a certain herbivore to find.
And he couldn’t complain that you were hard to find. But then you never were.
You were, as ever, at Ramshackle. Working on upkeep for the run-down building on your day-off, just like you usually did on the weekends when you weren’t working at the Mostro Lounge.
Leona didn’t even have to call out since Grim handled letting you know he was here for him.
You turned, blinking up at him in surprise, before a smile split its way across your face. Leona wasn’t really looking at you, though. Instead, he was staring at the busted chair you were apparently working on with a frown. 
How the crossbar had wiggled its way out, was beyond him, but that was evidently enough, what had happened.
“Leona! No little prince with you today?” Your voice was bright, and Leona found himself looking back your way as he propped himself in the doorway.
He crossed his arms as he looked down at where you were seated on the floor, tilting his head at you, “Nope, but a certain little prince did tell me what you told him the other day.”
You blinked in confusion before your eyes slowly cleared, and you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head slightly, “Oh, that. He bought the marriage excuse pretty easily, and at least that way I didn’t have to lie or something like that to him.”
Leona felt his eyebrows rise at your words as you twisted to go back to work on the chair, seemingly unconcerned by what side effects your words might have had.
“Yeah, but now that he’s found out we’re dating when no one else has, he’s going to report directly back to either Falena or his wife,” Leona pushed himself off the wall as he spoke, walking over to where you were.
You simply shook your head at his disgruntled words, a smile on your face, “I still don’t see why it would be so horrible for them to know. But even if he does tell them, they probably won’t believe him. Not if Falena is as concerned about your love life as you say he is.”
Leona frowned as he watched you before kneeling and reaching around you to help you support the chair while you fought the crossbar into place, “No, he’ll call and ask all sorts of questions or, worse, have his wife ask me all sorts of questions.”
You hummed, tilting your head slightly, “You’ll be able to handle it if it comes to that. But, like I said, I really don’t see why it’s a big deal if they know or not. I’d like to meet your family.”
Your words caused his eyebrows to lift once more as he glanced over at you, watching as a frown crossed your face.
You glanced over your shoulder at him, confusion accenting your voice as soon as you spoke, “How did you find out what I’d told Cheka anyway? Did he just tell you?”
Leona let out a huff, his ears twitching as he glanced off to the side, “He saw one of those lollipop ring thingies at Sam’s and asked me what sort of ring I was going to get you for the wedding.”
You laughed aloud, earning yourself a look even as you shook your head in light-hearted amusement before glancing at him, “Hopefully nothing like a Ring-pop. That would be hideous.”
Leona grinned, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t want something big like that?”
You snorted, shaking your head, “No. I think a rock that size, even a fake one, would be a little heavy.”
He let out an amused huff, turning his eyes back to the chair as he idly considered what sort of ring might actually be best, “Duly noted.”
After all, your thoughts on it all mattered too, even if you didn’t know that held actually had been looking at some rings already.
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autismdogg · 3 months
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