#🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

[gravity-falls-fanatic89]

I had this cooking for a bit, based on another one I posted, and decided to break it into parts.

Stan Pines x Reader

Part 1/?

NSFW/MINORS DNI/18+

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

"Wow, dude, I've been Employee of the Month since I started here! You broke my streak!" Soos said gleefully. He was holding a camera from your boss, Mr Pines, brought out to celebrate the occasion. "Stan said to get your good side....Wait, do you have a bad side?"

You rubbed your fingers on your temple. Soos was honestly a very nice guy, but holy hell, not the sharpest tool in the shed. Breaking his streak didn't take much...So much, you don't even know how you earned it. You goofed off most of the time, dozed off at the counter, and sometimes forgot to flip the sign to "Open".

"Okay, I'm just going to ignore that...Can you just take the picture? I'd like to go on my lunch break," you said, feeling grouchy and hungry. You had a huge deli sub and an ice cold Pitt Cola waiting in the refrigerator, and you could almost taste both.

Click! Click! Click!

The camera went off at least a dozen times, and Soos was proud of himself, but you were pretty sure every single one was half assed looking. Oh well, that's Mr. Pines' problem, not yours.

You walked down to the makeshift break room that was actually Mr. Pines' kitchen. It was tiny, but cozy, if you could get past the smell of old guy, even older cigar smoke, and coffee. He was actually at the table with the paper in front of him, and just his fez poking out from the top. You opened the fridge, and immediately wanted to cry.

"Mr. Pines, my lunch is gone," you said in a short manner. "Have you seen it?"

He coughed, and shuffled the paper over to look at you. He had taken off his jacket and dress shirt, and pulled out his poker face, grinning at you. Seeing him in his tank top, with his thick, aged arms and chest hair peeking out made you blush a little until your stomach growled.

"Damn, I thought it was up for grabs," and he pulled your bag out from behind the paper, turning enough that he had his legs spread in his suit pants. Your eyes shifted from your bag with the sub, to the salami bulging in his lap. "Ya gonna take it or not?"

You snatched it up, and he chuckled, with deep smile lines and crow's feet sneaking out and showing his age. "Eat your lunch, Red. You're gettin' a little feisty, and need to calm down."

"Don't even start with me, Mr. Pines," you snapped. "This heat and forgetting to eat breakfast is already bad enough. I feel lightheaded as shit."

Mr. Pines eyebrow went up slightly. "Y'know, if ya didn't do your job so well, I'd fire ya....But no one else in town would take ya!" And he started howling. "I need to go freshen up for the next bunch of suckers comin'....Look alive, Red."

He walked out, and you flipped him the bird. What a dick...Ooooo, his di-. You shook your head, trying to shake the intrusive thought of him sitting there out of your head. He had to be at least a decade or so older than you...Why would he bother with a woman pushing 40?

Why am I even thinking this shit?

You shook your head again and ate, mentally preparing yourself for the latter half of the day, which went way faster, even in the brutal heat. Five o clock came, and you flip the sign to Closed, wiping the dripping sweat off your face. Mr. Pines came through the door, fully suited(in this heat!?), counting cash with his cane tucked under his arm, and his eye patch on.

"Dumb sons uh bitches...They eat this shit up! Ha!" he cackled, peering over at you melting at the counter. "Ya look like you're gonna melt over there, Red."

Why all old men feel compelled to call the red haired women Red was something that pissed you off to no end, but even you were too tired to fight much. "Aw, look at all that cash.. Maybe you could afford to get the air fixed finally."

"Don't start with me, punk," he said coolly. "I called earlier, and the local guy is booked for a month...And Soos, well, he's Soos."

Saying that actually made you crack up a little bit. Mr. Pines saw your grin, and....Blushed? You blinked, and he had pulled his cane out, propping your head up to him. "Mr. Pines, what are you doing?"

"Ya lifted your head up when I made that joke, then it looked like you were gonna faint," he said, his face at arms length, looking at you with dark brown eyes. "I don't need no damn injuries at work." He actually looked a little concerned, and furrowed his brow.

"Uh, listen Red...Here," and he handed you some cash from his stack. "I want ya to get a couple tank tops that ain't gonna make ya do that again. But bring a receipt for 'em. I ain't a charity." He cleared his throat, and began to walk away. "And start bringing water with ya...I ain't callin' an ambulance because ya can't remember to take care of yourself."

You looked at the wad, and realized he gave you at least $100, which is weird as hell. You couldn't typically pry anything like that from his cold, dead hands(he might even take it to the grave with him). "Thanks, Mr. P-," and you looked up, but he was already gone.

*************

The wad of cash was in your hands from that moment at the Shack, until you got home and laid in bed. Whether it was the heat, or the ways Mr. Pines was getting to your brain, you couldn't sleep. Him toying with you during the days was getting to you, and not in a way you expected.

He could be a total asshole for no good reason, and make pot shots at you. Then, you'd see him outside doting on his great niece, and nudging her twin brother along with his advice. Hell, he even spoke to Soos and Wendy like they were his kids. Sneaking around, he didn't know you knew this side of him, but it seemed like he was trying to warm to you too.

But...

He didn't have to look so concerned and tilt that 8 ball under your chin like that. It was pulling something out of you that you hadn't even thought of for a few years, and with menopause on your horizon....Arousal.

Thinking of him taking that cane, and tilting your head up again gave you chills. But this time, it was him, like he was in the kitchen, looking down at you, with a devilish grin, and his raspy voice reminding you he's the boss.

"Alright Red....Get them panties and bra off, and listen good: Ya ain't helping with the Shack today. No, ya got a much more "hands on" duty today. So, get on your knees, be a good girl, and suck my cock until I say we're done."

In the heat of the night, you hadn't realized your hands were grasping your pussy and nipples back and forth, radiating carnal need for him. You closed your eyes in embarrassment, but kept masturbating, playing out the porno in your head until you exploded.

Completely soaked, both inside and out, you laid on the bed, and all you could think was

"Shit, I'm losing my mind." And then slid off into sleep, and further wet dreams with Mr. Mystery.

[erotismofthemachine]

I can never find enough objectum art so. Yeah

[arminsumi]

🔞 (MDNI) Dating a freak Choso

He just... doesn't do normal things. He does strange and unconventional shit, but it's wonderful to observe him in his habitat; because Choso is very much in his little Choso habitat.

You ask for a kiss, so he leans in and you think he's gonna press his lips against yours — but no, he bites down on your bottom lip and leaves a teeth mark. He grabs your jaw and gives you an open-mouthed, erotic kiss but pretends it's wholesome, not horny. When he thinks you look really cute, he doesn't just simply compliment you — no, he licks your cheek like a puppy. If you're not paying attention to him, he wiggles his tongue into your ear. If you say your hands are cold, he grabs them and stuffs them down his pants to get warmth.

When you beg for him to put it in, he slaps his heavy cock on your clit instead. If you scream his name, he grunts and thrusts into you harder and says "Keep screaming my name, it's getting me close." in a husky voice. When he rolls off you in an exhausted sweat after cumming, he pants for a while before saying "Shit, baby, that pussy knocked me out." and 5 minutes after sex he's playing video games while you hardcore fall asleep. Dick from Choso always puts you to sleep fast, forget about round two — you're sleeping (lol) and he'll be holding you with one arm, muscles subtly twitching as he plays on his gameboy.

[allpiesforourown]

Truly obsessed with the idea of post canon shen yuan confusing bingmei's needs with what he's read about bingge

Binghe: today I'm going to tell shizun I'd like to stay in bed longer in the mornings and cuddle..!

Binghe: shizun... this greedy disciple has a request... he hopes shizun will not be offended by this outrageous suggestion but-

Shen Yuan opening his fan as he remembers pidw chapter 285: this master knew this day would come. You want to make duplicates of yourself in the dream realm and have 3 versions of yourself fucking me at once in each hole, don't you? Fine this husband shall indulge you

Binghe so hard he's about to pass out: ....yes that is what... thanking shizun..... this disciple... oh my...

[yameoto]

any more thoughts on puppy art.. please. only if u want to though haha !! (please?)

ohh u guys love your darling little lapdog huh?

LAPDOG ART DONALDSON! fem!reader

▸ a drooler. nosing his head between your legs n he's already salivating. he's so cute like that. face smushed between your thighs, panting as spit pools in his mouth, nose twitching like a cute little bunny at the scent of your arousal. taking the trim of your panties between his teeth, dragging it down inch by inch. quivering because he just wants to rip them off but the last time he did that he tore your nice lacy lingerie and u didnt touch him for a week. when he eats you out he laps at your cunt like an eager puppy. comes away absolutely glistening. dripping, even. your juices n his saliva smearing his cheeks, his nose, dribbling down his chin.

▸ bigggg on humping. obviously. when you're too busy to give him attention he'll just shuffle over onto your lap and just start rubbing up against you. he's ridden out the best orgasms that way; creaming in his already-sodden boxers as slick gets all over ur thigh. he likes to do it when you're working or when you're on a call (you always punish him best that way). oftentimes you'll wake up at night to slick sheets—finding him grindin up against you, moaning and whimpering. a sleepy, boneless mess on your knee. he'll already have gotten himself off thrice before he tries to wakes you, just to be safe (you might take it away from him, after all). ▸ teething.... grown ass man teething... gnawing on your shoulder to stop himself from crying out when you let him fuck you.. nibbling your bottom lip red n raw when you kiss.. slobbering all over your mouth. during sex if you tease him he'll start to chew anxiously at the end of ur bra strap, the hem of your shorts, your panties if you keep him waiting too long. sometimes randomly takes your hand by the wrist and takes a fake chomp out of it (affectionate).

▸ not beyond jus being your lil stress relief toy. coming back home and he's been so good for you. he won his match. he's cooked dinner. but you don't have time for any of that. "oh, baby, don't give me that look. cock out, now." and he makes a little mewling noise and immediately his shorts are a crumpled puddle on the floor—raging boner popping out, all swollen n red n leaking bc hes been waiting for you for hours. ▸ sighing, telling him to sit and so he does. legs spreading wide on the couch, blinking up at u in earnest neediness. and when you sink onto his cock he makes this insane, visceral whining noise—back arcing off the seat. ▸ cockwarmer? more like cuntwarmer. you tell him don't move and don't cum. an impossible ask. he's pawing at your back, whimpering when your only response is to lean back heavier, sinking your full weight down on his poor, poor cock. n it feels soso good but he only lasts two minutes on a good day! let alone when you're switching the tv on and settling back into him like he's part of the couch. occasionally your hips jump, walls pulsing tight, choking his sensitive dick. you're grinding down into his lap and he's twitching inside of u and hot tears are prickling his eyes—fingers digging into your thighs, trembling.

▸ time ticking on.. the coil of heat in his gut winding tighter n tighter.. art's cheeks are flushed and hes wetting the back of your shirt with his silent tears. he persists, though, because he's good. he's gonna be a good boy for you. and it works! for a time, when you seem like you've almost forgotten your pussy is strangling his cock and you're only rolling your hips occasionally, sending warm thrums of pleasure through him. lulling him into a false sense of security.

▸ until all of a sudden you decide to be mean and for whatever reason you lift your hips before slamming them back down again, and his sharp gasp and slurred mewls perfectly cue the geyser that erupts from his slit.

▸ not even letting him cum inside you.. sliding off his spurting cock thats blowing cum like a volcano. hot, sticky strings arcing in the air and splattering all over the carpet, the couch cushions. his eyes glazing over, all glassy n sparkly as he crumples back in the couch, blubbering tearful apologies as his cock leaks like a faucet, staining the poor, new pillows.

▸ adores aftercare. or just your comfort in general. please rest your hand against his cheek and let him sigh and melt and nuzzle into the palm of your hand like you're taking the weight of the world off his shoulders. tug gently on his hair. scratch his scalp. let him curl up on your lap and pat him and coo sweet nothings in his ear. simple things, like "sweet baby, did so good today." or "tired puppy. took mommy so well."

▸ "fuck— m'sorry. m'sorry, m'sorry—" "hey, shh, darling. aw, don't cry. mommy's got you. how bout you curl up on momma's lap, kay?" "..mkay."

[wth234]

Big boy Nanami Kento

Ib: @screampied ^ - ^

Kento had lost it. You’re on your stomach, while he lays on top of you, your arms by your side, him hugging you from behind and spreading your legs using his, your fighting to stay conscious as his weight crushes you. He’s seeking his own release at this point, panting and heaving, his head hanging at your ear and you can feel his huff and puffs down the side of your neck meanwhile with every deep sloppy thrust from his rutting hips, all that escapes your mouth are puffs of air as his weight smacks on top of you. Normally, he’s very considerate and cares to watch how hard he’s on you, but after being pent up stuck at the office, the long day he had, and you offering to be his release, he couldn’t hold back.

All you can think is how good it feels. His breath on your ear, the kisses on your neck, his sticky, sweaty, heaving chest your back, his abdomen tensing, his hips thrusting unforgivingly into your arousal each force creating its own erotic sound, his legs wrapped around yours. His deep moans fill the room as you imagine how attractive his disheveled hair & broad-shoulders must look on top of you making you tense up even more.

Then there it is, he picks up the pace chasing his high sloppily shoving himself in you while you press your hips again his chasing your own. He releases himself and you do too and you can feel his hot orgasm inside of you starting to drip out the sides of him as he rides out the pleasure by not even thrusting anymore, but grinding himself while inside. His entire body weight is on you now as he grinds inside of you, your body moving with his. You can’t wait to offer to be his release again.

[butch-bf]

say hi to the butch version of uncle jesse from full house 🫶

cis men, minors and terfs DNI.

[14dayswithyou]

Give Redacted a kiss for me!!!

Do you have any dark/creepy headcanons for Redacted? I’m very curious ^^

✦゜ANSWERED: I know you asked for [REDACTED] specifically, but everything mentioned below could also apply to Ren as well ^^;

cw: mentions of gore, torture, (one line about) cannibalism, NSFW themes, and just general creepy behaviour

I'm sure most people already know about Ren's red room days, but for the newer folks: he used to livestream himself torturing his victims on the dark web. He would also harvest and sell their organs for extra cash.

His red room phase began after a group of upperclassmen started livestreaming themselves bullying people (Angel included) for attention online. If those teens wanted a taste of online fame that badly, Ren would be all too happy to give it to them — especially after he heard all the degrading things they said about Angel during their stream.

Ren has probably sniffed (licked???) Angel's underwear on multiple occasions lmao

He also keeps a bunch of their discarded cups, mugs, bottles, etc. — and on the days when he's feeling especially lonely — Ren likes to put his lips where Angel's would've been and treat it like it's an indirect kiss.

If Angel is fine with it, Ren would be more than willing to carve his name into their skin. He'd have to use an ample amount of his numbing cream though (typically reserved for when he gives himself tattoos and piercings), since he doesn't want them to be in any pain.

Similarly, he'd also be willing to carve their name into his skin as well — as many times as Angel would want. But he already has multiple tattoos of their name on his skin, so.... gksgsjj

I'm sure everyone already knows this, but Ren has an entire shrine dedicated to Angel. He keeps all his sentimental and stolen items there.

Ren genuinely has no empathy for anyone other than Angel, so if they were to ask him to murder his own mother (or his sister, his best friend, etc.) and bring back their heart, he'd do it with a smile on his face.

Because he has no empathy, Ren would probably enjoy watching snuff films like it's any other B-tier horror film. To him, it's just more research material on how he can get rid of his competition.

I've mentioned this in the past, but Ren has jacked off to the thought of Angel while in the library lol

I made a post back in 2022 that mentioned how Ren would willingly offer up any of his body parts to a cannibal!Angel, and I think the point still stands!!

He likes to put Angel's stolen laundry on his body pillow and rut into/hump it 😟

I once mentioned that Ren would slap a barcode sticker on his sledgehammer to make it look less... questionable whenever he carries it around in broad daylight — but alongside that, I think he'd also carry around some tools and an unopened can of paint to make it seem like he's just doing renovations. In reality, he'd probably force his victims to drink paint or gargle nails teehee

Builder AU except Ren mistook a body for plywood??? Why is he hammering so many nails into them?? Why is he feeding it into a wood chipper???

Builder AU except Ren gives Angel a different meaning to getting nailed and railed???????? Jackhammering???????? Getting screwed sideways????? KGJDSGNK It's 2AM I'm losing da plot now T_T I'll shut up

[smallestapplin]

Unhinged idea but the reverse harem autobot series has activated every single neuron in my brain

Imagine if the human was in a harem with the decepticons instead and the autobots want to save them, fearing you were being forced into the decepticon’s love (and totally denying the fact that seeing you naked on camera got their spikes painfully hard)

Giving you free reign other than that because my brain is full of the idea and empty as well AUDJSKDJDJDHF

Keep up the good work man, love your transformer fics !! :3 /pos

-Fae (if that isn’t already taken ofc)

I so need to write more of these

Warnings : GN!Reader, cybertronian language is used as it's mainly from their POV, exhibitionism, noncon voyeurism, noncon recording

Minors do NOT interact! 18+ only

-

-

-

You were spotted by pure accident, in fact it was truly a miricale in the first place anyone outside of the decepticons had seen you, but it was Jazz who raised the alarm that the cons had kidnapped a human that left the autobots fuel lines freezing up.

Out on a casual drive Jazz had spotted Knockout not too far away, the con in a line up ready to street race it seemed, but something was different.

And that something was the cute human sitting in the driver's seat. He managed to radio Prowl, swiftly telling him the situation, but by the time the cop bot arrived you and the con were gone. Which left them arguing the whole way back to base.

informing the others was a whole different matter.

"Why didn't you stop him!?" Ironhide shouts, followed by Prowl agreeing with him.

So much yelling and for what?

"Alright that's enough! Jazz, you did the right thing, you could have put the human's life in danger interfering alone."

"But, Prime-"

"No, Ironhide, we need to save that human frm their clutches, but we can't do that if they are harmed or killed in the crossfires or because Megatron doesn't want to let his 'prize' go."

Ironhide growls under his breathe, angry that Prime is right, even if it means someone innocent is in the decepticons grasp. Your safety is their biggest concern, who knows what the cons are putting you through or even doing to you! Them rushing in head frsit will just put you, and subsequently them, in more danger.

They need to get on that ship and survey the area and situation, then they can go about the safest way of getting you out of there with little damage. Maybe thats how Mirage ended up on the Nemsis, invisible to the decepticons that he was careful to walk around as to not alert them.

He has a live feed right to base, so they can see everything he sees while he looks around, sneaking into room after room, peering in and looking for the little human. After the fifth room he forgets it and walks down the hallway, being sure to move out of the way for any con on patrol.

"This is pointless, if we storm them and take them by surprise we'd get that human out for sure!"

Optimus shakes his head, "Not nessecarily, if we do then one of the cons could grab the human a flee."

Bee huffs, though its a mask to hide the worry he feels watching the footage of Mirage walking through the hallways of the enemies ship, listening to their conversations of Knockout and Breakdown

"Seems lord Megatron isn't too happy."

"Yeah, I wonder whos fault that is."

"Our sweetspark wanted out to walk around, how is that my fault!?"

Our?

Sweetspark?

Optimus doesn't take his optics off the screen, even as the whispers and worried words fill the air behind him.

"Did they take a human for themselves?"

"Oh primus, they are using them as a stress toy! That poor person is probably being tortured!" Bumblebee screeches.

Prowl and Ironhide glare at the screen, muttering under theirs breathes, wanting to beat those decepticons helms in.

Ratchet keeps his optics on the screen, scowl on his face, though he can't lie about the worry eating at his spark. Are you okay? He doesn't know enough about human's fragile bodies, so could he ensure you lived long enough to get to a medic who knew what they were doing?

The room quickly falls silent as a sound grows louder and louder. Heads turn back to the screen, watching as Mirage follows quickly behind shockwave, thankfully still undetected, but the sight that greets them leaves their intakes dropped open.

Megatron, with a servo around you, thrusting his spike as deep as he could make it go.

You're sobbing, overloading, begging for him to slow down.

"Aren't you being a bit rough with them? Surely, humans are too squishy for such treatment." Shockwave spoke, merely walking towards where he left his data pad, as if this was completely normal.

"They like it. Isn't that right, pet?" Megatron grinds his spike into you, smirking as you cry out.

"Yes! Yes! M'sorry I should've asked-fuck! Megatron, please...!" You throw your head back, sobbing as it appears you've overloaded again.

Megatron vents, but his smirk never falters.

"So cute like this, taking my spike like you were meant to."

"I told you humans needed more enrichment, they would not have left with Knockout had you given them things to do while we are all busy."

Megatron's face plate twists into a scowl "Silence, Shockwave, as leader they are my Conjunx Endura first, the rest of the ship is just their...consorts."

Mirage is frozen in his spot, unable to look away from you taking such a massive spike in your little valve, and the other autobots are much the same.

So this is how they are using you? But what Megatron said, they couldn't possibly courted a human, they hate humans! Unless its...no, they'd never go that far, would they?

Hot Rod glances around the room, hoping to not be the only one finding the scene before them hot, but he can't read them.

Maybe it's just him, but seeing your soft body mold to the shape of the spike fragging you so good gets his engines purring.

He shouldn't, this is wrong on so many levels and a complete invasion of privacy. But to see your valve overflowing with transfluid like this, it gets him going.

You whimper, your optics look glazed over as you barely manage to look up at Megatron, who can't help but coo at you.

"Have you learned your lesson, dear?"

You fall limp once more in his hold, though you nearly cry once he pulls you off his spike, letting the transfluid pumped into you drop out.

"I did...I'll ask you next time, I promise."

Megatron chuckles, tenderly rubbing his thumb across your cheek, looking at you in such a loving way.

"Good. Now, I have things to attend to, but since you need so much attention, I'm sure Soundwave wouldn't mind keep you occupied."

The blue mech stands up straighter, moving away from his work station and swiftly goes right passed an unamused Shockwave.

Your gaze meets his red visor, which seems to glow. His servos shaking slightly as he takes you from Megatron, uncaring for his leader and Shockwave to make their exit, leaving him with you.

Mirage, despite his illusion feels as though he's exposed, perhaps now is his chance to leave-

Soundwave doesn't get long with you before Starscream barges in, loudly demanding his Conjunx Endura though Soundwave is not amused.

Just when he was getting his alone time too.

Optimus can't take this anymore, comming Mirage to get out of there now.

"Skyfire, go to the Nemesis and get Mirage."

The large mech jumps at his name being called, his face plate bright blue as he squeaks out a 'ok' and rushes out.

Ironhide is beyond appalled, how could those cons do that to you!? But...oh, oh Primus he wants to hold you down and let you take his spike.

The shared thought among the autobots was 'does their valve feel that good the decepticons are willing to share them?'

But oh they want to find out.

Their spikes are pressing against their modest plating, watching such a moment like that was too much for them-

"W-wait I'm-ohhh...fuck!" You squeal, body shaking from your used hole being filled again.

The room is filled with the sound of all their heads snapping to the screen, Mirage didn't seem to have moved, unable to look away or even turn the camera off.

Faintly they can hear Starscream arguing with Soundwave (though it's one sided) as Soundwave gently works his spike into your used valve.

"How dare you, it should be my turn to use their valve!"

"They were given to me, so silence." Soundwave doesn't entertain more of Starscream, focusing on you and pleasuring you.

The doors open once more, giving Mirage time to slide out unnoticed, but just enough to see Breakdown, Thundercracker, Skywarp, and the constructions following suit before the doors close.

Just how many spikes were you taking?

Just how many times a day?

"I uh, I need to go drive- Right, patrol!" Hot Rod and Bee jump up, rushing out of the room in seperate directions.

"Prime?"

Prowl looks to his leader as the larger bot holds his helm in his servos.

Optimus can't face him, he can't face anyone! Why did he like that so much? He should be ashamed, disgusted, but oh Primus above you were quite the addicting sight.

He needs you.

Frag, he shouldn't be thinking like that.

"Optimus, what is our game plan."

Jazz's stern voice cuts through his thoughts.

"I won't be easy, but we need to tread carefully."

Surely it shouldn't be too hard to obtain you, right? It's for your safety after all.

[hardwiredd]

smth smth computer maintenance gone wrong or something

[cookiekissers]

I won't be replying directly to this request because it was anonymous, but for the future please remember to send off anon if you want nsfw. I can't guarantee or verify your age because anyone can lie about their age when they're on anon!

🔥🔞[Short Spicy Fic + Burning Spice NSFT HCs]

You stare up at the towering giant of a Cookie looming over you. His hair was dark, long, and wild. He had a muscular build, strong arms, and a large, well-defined chest. The guy was stacked, especially in the chest region. It was impossible not to let your gaze wander down his form. Now, this was one handsome Cookie.

"You. Cookie. On your knees. Bow to the Great Destroyer!" Burning Spice Cookie commanded. You blinked in confusion.

During your travels through the sands of this land, you saw many statues dedicated to "The Great Destroyer." Though the Cookie was handsome, he didn't look anything like those giant, beastly statues.

You snickered playfully.

"Heh, really, you? The Beast of Destruction? You sure about that, handsome?" You tease.

You opened your mouth to fire another flirtatious comment at the stranger when he suddenly lifted you by your hips and slammed you against the steep rock wall, knocking the breath from your lungs. Burning Spice's large, muscular body pressed up against you, caging you in with ease. He stared down at you, the heat in his eyes scorching you to your very core. You felt yourself flush, feeling as vulnerable as ever under his hungry gaze. Burning Spice growled low in his throat, his tongue swiping over his lips, eyeing you with a growing lust.

"Very brave of you to speak to me that way, little Cookie." He commended. "But I'll show you what the Beast of Destruction is capable of and why I earned that title." Burning Spice grinned. His voice turned husky, his words full of promise. You gulped, trying desperately not to fidget. Burning Spice leaned forward, capturing your lips roughly. His hot kiss filled you with a fiery need as your tongue tingled and burned with a sweet, addicting heat. Your legs quickly wrapped around Burning Spice's waist, and he wasted no time grinding himself between your legs, his eagerness showing itself quickly.

You gasped as Burning Spice Cookie pulled away to focus on your neck, covering it in feverish kisses that leave behind a tingling sensation. It was one that you couldn't get enough of. His sharp, golden teeth sunk into your crispy dough, and a sudden yelp from you made him chuckle in triumph. The Beast's grinding had become quicker and more desperate. You hung on, your fingers tangling in his black locks as his teeth remained clamped on your throat. Slowly, you could feel something rubbing against you in Burning Spice Cookie's loose pants.

"The destruction I cause on Earthbread will be nothing compared to what I will do you, my little Cookie~" The Beast rumbled fervently.

You panted, your face flushed and your stomach tying itself in knots at Burning Spice's husky voice in your ear. The friction he was giving you only made you feel hotter, and your head spun.

Once he released your throat from his jaws to shove his tongue down your throat, you took the initiative. You wrapped your arms around his neck eagerly, surprising him with a steamy kiss of your own. Burning Spice Cookie wasn't rough in that moment, it almost seemed sweet the way he squeezed you tightly, kissing you deeply and grinding up against you. You drew back slightly, panting.

"Well then, go ahead. Destroy me, Daddy,~" You purred seductively, teasing him further, your hands trailing over his chest and shoulders. Burning Spice Cookie grinned widely at the invitation, and he reached down and ripped your pants off your body.

🔥[HEAD CANONS]

You can't tell me after spending centuries locked in a magical prison he isn't going to be pent up and horny. Showing clear interest in him and teasing him is going to get you a one way ticket to pound town. Burning Spice won't even care if you two do it out in the open, he's horny and he wants you NOW.

Yeah, he would definitely fuck you in front of his spice army. Just to make sure that everyone knows that you're his.

I hc that the Beasts are much larger than the average Cookie, Burning Spice especially. And of course, being a big guy, his dick is huge lmao

Call him "Daddy" and he will go crazy. You won't be leaving him for a while or walking when its over.

He loves cumming inside and filling you over and over. He gets unexpectedly mushy and cuddly after a breeding session.

Burning Spice is the definition of Spicy. His internal temperature is far higher than the average Cookie's and his cum is no exception! It's hot, literally, but thankfully not hot enough to cause injury, but it does take a little bit to get used to.

I imagine him to be the type to be ok with a friends with benefits type of agreement, only to get needy for you frequently, and realize in the middle of fucking that he's balls deep in love with you hjghfjgf

He doesn't like anyone else touching what is his. Any Cookie tries to hit you up he's grabbing his axe and not holding anything back.

Loves biting you while he fucks you hard. Its one of his favourite things, and you will often be covered in bite marks.

When out in public, he will be his usual self. But when in private with you, the tiniest amount of his old self from before his corruption will come out. But these occasions are rare.

Burning Spice will probably prioritize his pleasure over your own, but he's not going to leave you unsatisfied.

He's a top/dom, and does not tolerate anything else. He likes having control over you during sex and enjoys ravaging you until you pass out.

Is lowkey a bit into degradation. Will call you a cumslut, boy toy, pet, daddy's dirty boy, daddy's cock slave, ect

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝

A/N: in a gojo state of mind 😵‍💫

Wc ≈ 800

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: hubby Satoru the type to do you so good the night before that you limp into the kitchen the next morning

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, SMUT, pns (good girl, baby), dirty talk, 🐱 eating, light size kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, breeding kink, multiple rounds, sex-crazed Gojo, implied bj

“Fuck baby, cream on me. Yeah, make a mess on this dick – spell your name on it. ‘S so fuckin’ hot – uhhh fuck – good girl’s stretchin’ s’much for daddy’s cock. Feel that? Feel me hittin’ those spots you can’t reach with your fingers?”

A ring of white cream froths up with each plunge of his cock back into your sloppy, sore pussy.

Your pretty husband suddenly slips out with a pop and impatiently lowers his face to level with your hips, burying himself into your pussy, licking a stripe up your thigh to start. He savors the sticky sweet taste that’s leaking out from his pretty wife. He loves it more than he should. When he eats you out, it feels as if he’s the one deriving pleasure from it.

“So fucking hot. You this wet n’ eager for me, baby? You needed this dick bad, huh? Uh-huh. Fucking cum on my tongue, I wannah fweel ih.” His words muffle as he sinks his tongue into your hole, swirling and wiggling it around, rubbing his tip into the roof, curling it up into your sweet spot.

He’s got a long tongue and he knows how to use it right. It feels like he’s French-kissing you down there.

His lips end up pressed flush against your lower lips, but even when his tongue reached as far as it can inside your hole, he’s still not satisfied – he keeps trying to get impossibly deeper.

And Gojo’s not a wasteful boy; he laps and slurps up your juices and gulps them down without letting even a drop spill. He eats it ‘till he’s out of breath, giving you orgasm after orgasm ‘till you go dumb and weak.

“God, you taste so fucking good. Hey baby? Still with me? C’mon, keep those eyes open. ‘Want you to watch me eat this pretty pussy.”

He can keep going and going, his stamina is seemingly infinite. When you squirm away from the overstimulation, he brings you closer to him again, hooking his arms around your thighs to lock you in place. He tugs you down and holds your hips tight, like he’s trying to show off his superior strength.

That pretty upturned nose swipes between your plush lips, nudging and bumping into your clit as he tongue-fucks you eagerly – as if he’s never gotten a taste of something so delicious before.

When he pulls away, his face is a mess; there’s a streak of your juices across his cheek that rubbed off from your inner thigh, and more running down his chin showing off how much you gushed for him. Happy with how fucked-out he’s rendered you with his tongue, he shoves himself back inside you like a feverish animal. Gojo fucks like a damn beast.

“God, baby, ‘gonna cum again. Take it. Take my cum n’ have my baby. Wanna see you holding my child.”

After he creams all inside you, he slips it out and slaps his heavy cock on your clit, smearing some cum over your plush lips. He loves stroking back and forth between them – the feeling alone of your pussy hugging his fat cock makes him get hard again in no time. It’s like he didn’t soften at all. Sometimes a little more cum spurts out and paints your clit, so he chuckles.

There’s such a mess. A sloppy, delicious mix of cum and cream, spit and sweat, precum and pussyjuice.

“We’re not done, baby. ‘Gotta fuck my cum into you ‘till I’ve got nothing left. Daddy’s knocking up that sweet pussy, t’night, m’kay? Good girl, hold those legs back f’me. Let me have you.”

A moment later, you’re back to screaming, creaming, clawing at his meaty biceps for support and comfort as he pounds into you like some sex-crazed fiend. Panting like crazy, skin slapping together, voices shaking – not even your moans sound coherent anymore, let alone your words. The most coherent thing coming out of your mouth is a chant of his favorite nickname; daddy daddy daddy.

He totally breaks you at night.

Then come the morning, he’s calmly eating cereal in the kitchen, thumbing through his socials and chirping a nonchalant “Mornin’, baby, how’d you sleep?” at you when you come limping out the bedroom with wild bed hair.

“Don’t you “Mornin’ baby” me!” you mutter groggily.

He grins devilishly at you. “Sorry, was I too hard on you last night?”

“Mmm…” you hum contemplatively, floating over to him so he can do what he always does the morning after good sex – and that is take you into his lap.

You rest your head on his muscular shoulder and tease into his ear, “Not hard enough, daddy ~ ” just to get him hard through his sweatpants.

It’s his turn to tease. But he does it better; he makes your stomach drop to the floor.

“You need me so bad even this early in the morning, huh? M'kay, get on your knees, 'gonna give you some breakfast.”

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

[fairyofjaeyun]

lonnggg nsfw audio link !!

audio content: possessive sub, mommy kink, face sitting/oral, handjob, face slapping, finger sucking, riding

this is giving jake and it’s driving me insane!! especially when he calls himself a needy puppy 😩😩

jakey can be such a jealous and clingy sub but he’s a good boy most of the time so he bites his tongue because he trusts you. but there are times where he can’t help being selfish and desperate and he begs for you to stay with him so you’ll have to put him in his place for making you cancel your plans.

[yukikocloud]

[yameoto]

COACH KNOWS BEST. ART, TASHI, PATRICK.

synopsis; you fucked up an important match. your punishment? a one-on-one match against patrick zweig. in your tiny tennis skirt. without your underwear. don't worry, baby. it's a private court.

✗ warnings ; coach!artashi, protégé!reader, dom!art/tashi/patrick, dubcon, foursome, double penetration, unhealthy power dynamics, large age-gap, slutshaming, exhibition, humiliation, sex on tennis courts, anal (you only have so many holes). this is NOT a classy party.

"DO i really have to wear this?" you hiss, indignant. fruitlessly attempting to tug your skirt down—if you could even call it that. a flimsy scrap of fabric, more like. (god, you think maybe it was tashi's when she was what—eleven?).

the hem just barely skims over your upper thighs. you can feel a goddamn breeze between your legs. you're eternally grateful for art and tashi, really, but this is fucking insane—

no— it's fine. it's fine. they’re your coaches, they know best.

"maybe if you hadn't fucked up that last volley." tashi scolds, harsh — her tough love familiar. though, there's a delighted glint to her eyes as you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together, trying your best to ignore the fact your ass is peeking out from under the bottom. your cheeks flare red.

“it’s a private tennis court.” art reassures, the warmth of his palm on your shoulder being far less comforting than normal. you scowl at the ground, knuckles clenching tight around your racket.

"oh, don't be so skittish. he's not that good." tashi coos, as if facing patrick zweig is the reason you're shifting your weight from foot to foot, hand squeezed determinedly at your crotch. tashi smiles. cradles your jaw, fingers swiping along your bottom lip—bitten raw and glossy. "just play your best." an hour later, and you’re not playing your best. you can’t play your fucking best—because with every movement, every hop, skip, and fucking jump; your skirt is fluttering upward and flashing your bare cunt to patrick motherfucking zweig.

this is hell. hell.

you're stiff as you move about the court, hyper-aware of the feeling of wind rushing between your legs. you’re sluggish in your pace—far too pre-occupied with yanking your skirt down every few seconds rather than actually focusing on the match.

how can you? especially when patrick's staring at you like he's trying to rip your thighs apart with his eyes. art and tashi are no better. you jump to return a ball, and your skirt flies up; displaying your ass spectacularly. you almost get whiplash with how fast you go rigid. “open up your form.” tashi chimes in. you shoot her a desperate, pleading look. she just arches a brow, expression impassive—though you don't miss the subtle quirk to her lips. she’s enjoying this. suppressing a whine, you broaden your stance obediently—legs sliding apart on the court. patrick's pupils dilate, and he not-so-subtly presses the hilt of his racket into his groin.

you swallow, hard. his eyes seem to follow that, too.

you're about to serve, before art’s voice cuts in from the sidelines—soft, low and yet—effortlessly authoritative.

"lower."

heat floods up to your ears. you bend down, feeling the fabric of your skirt hike even higher up your exposed asscheeks. you direct him a desperate glance, eyes wide—a bid for approval.

art smiles. "lower." a low whimper slips from your lips, but you obey because they're your coaches, of course you'll do what they say. patrick grunts in barely concealed disappointment as the front of your skirt drapes further over your cunt. your blush is violent. fuck, you look like the intro to a porno; back arched, ass perked so high the goddamn sun is warming your cheeks. you want to crawl into a hole and die.

though, when you finally risk a glance back; the feeling turns into a strangely pleasant heat, unfurling in your gut. tashi's eyes are lidded, sunglasses slid halfway down her nose. art's pupils are so dark his eyes have lost their blue. his thighs are quivering.

"good girl." tashi purrs. you shiver, and you almost drop your racket. "

"oh, fuck this." patrick growls, and then all of a sudden his racket has clattered to the ground and he's lunging for you—two hands clumsily seizing your hips and shoving you to the ground. he doesn't even have to hike up your skirt. his knee is shoved up between your legs, meaning he has full access to everything. he stares, greedy—and you stare back; specifically at the way the swollen tip of his cock hangs out from the side of his shorts. his slit drools, and a fat glob of pre-cum splats on your thigh.

he shrugs at the way your jaw drops—wry grin splitting his lips. "what? didn't want you to feel left out."

"patrick." art stands, voice low with rare warning. possessiveness. patrick only shoots back a broad smirk—lifting his hand up to give him the finger—before sticking up his index and wagging it in a stupidly lewd motion. if possible, it makes your cheeks glow even hotter than they already are—it's type of thing boys your age would do, not a grown-ass man.

"what, man? you can't tell me this isn't exactly what you wanted."

art scowls, though he doesn't say anything—the massive hard-on he's sporting speaks for itself. tashi's expression is unreadable from behind her shades; but nothing ever happens without tashi's say so.

"dude, she's so wet." patrick grins, and to your rising horror—you are. he spits on his palm before roughly thumbing the slick down your thighs, smearing, before popping it in his mouth. he swirls his tongue over the nub of his thumb, waggling his brows.

"of course she is." tashi hums, and a whine tears from your throat. shaking your head adamantly because for some reason tashi’s instantaneous, patronising nod of assent makes you feel more like a whore than patrick’s fingers sliding up your skirt. no, no. i don't. it's sweat. i swear, swear to god—

before the slew of protests can find its way out of your throat; three fingers are shoving themselves up your cunt and you gasp—back thrashing against hot concrete.

“oh, you didn't want this?” tashi’s voice drawls, low and slow and deliberate in your ear, hips rolling into yours. you whine, drawing a white-hot blank as her fingers slide deeper into your cunt, “because i don't see any tennis players on the court. just a couple of sluts.”

you barely even register patrick's aggrieved "hey!" from offside, the unfairness of it all bubbling up in your stomach and dizzying your head because what the fuck— that's not— you made me— but you can't force the words out; not when you can feel two hands wrest behind you by the shoulders. the feeling of callouses against your skin familiar—disarming. you whimper, a plea for salvation. "art—"

''shush." art hisses, roughly seizing the band of your tennis skirt and jerking it entirely up your mid-riff, so you're completely exposed waist-down. your eyes blow wide at the humid air that rushes against your crotch—back arching when his hand snakes under your top and pinches at your nipples.

"i'm surprised you even bothered with these." he remarks as he shoves your bra aside, not unkindly—but hardly considerate either, with the way his fingers squeeze and pinch and twist meanly. your knees almost buckle from under you.

not that they can, not with patrick holding you up by the backs of your thighs, shorts slid midway down his thighs. his cock throbs, swollen and needy as he pushes his groin up against yours. "m'shocked you even let me through the gates," patrick hums, and you don't have to look to know he's breathing down art's neck. "to break your little rookie in, no less." he's so cocky, spit flecking your pussy—talking like you aren't even there.

you squirm, but art is groping your tits and patrick is wrenching your legs apart and tashi has thrust a fourth finger up your pussy and fuuuuck—your limbs are reduced to jelly. thrust and tied up on a ridiculously hot torture wrack; tugged and pulled and twisted in three directions at once.

"not so fucking fast—the deal was if you won. you didn't fucking win." that's tashi. her fingers curl harshly, knuckles pressing against your walls. you take in a shuddering breath, eyes rolling back into your head.

"what the fuck? that's so unfair." patrick's voice is an indignant whine as tashi yanks him back by the hair. "i was winning! how the hell was i supposed to control myself—" you can feel his hands clamping over your ass, rough and domineering. his dick insistently wedges into the corner between your thigh and folds, as if trying to force entry.

"maybe if you had a little self-discipline, for once—"

"oh, that's fuckin' rich of you to say, making her come out here and—"

"shut up." art pants, low and hot in your ear, and you almost forgot he was there. you don't know how, with the way he's grinding his length furiously against your bare ass—damp in the way you know he's already creamed his pants already. his fingers wrest the nub of your nipple at the same time that patrick brute-forces his way inside your cunt. your body contorts between the three of them—a choked, rattled cry ripping from your throat and sending your vision dancing into spots. for a terrifying, blissful moment, your brain empties completely.

"god—" patrick grunts, shoving himself deeper, nails digging into the flesh of your ass as he pounds, with great effort. tashi's eyes flash with annoyance, though she doesn't physically wrench him off. not one to be one-upped; the next time art bucks his hips, you realise he's ditched the pants entirely—head of his cock dragging against the crease of your ass. it's a slick, slow friction—tender—dripping a glistening trail down your crack. and then, his hips snap back, and then he's plunging into your hole—the wet, slapping sound of his balls against your ass almost as loud as patrick's moans as he stuffs your pussy full. the two ram into you with vicious ferocity—like they're seeing who can come inside you first.

it hurts it hurts it hurts. as if the insides of your body have been set alight, limbs writhing uselessly—a bubbling, curdling heat deep in your belly. but it also feels good, somehow. when your head lolls forward, boneless and fuzzy; you can see the way your stomach distends with each of patrick and art’s brutal thrusts. the outlines of their cocks, cramming into you—fierce, desperate. tashi can see too, clearly. her free hand delicately runs over your abdomen—nails scraping. you can’t even gasp at the cool sensation. not when you’ve felt fuller than you ever have in your life.

it’s just like tennis. just like tennis. no pain, no gain—right?

art comes first, because of course he does. letting out a soft, keening hiss of his own as he slams his hips into you, palm squeezing your tits so hard you think you're about to burst. he shoots his load into you with a choked whine. he doesn't pull out—doesn't want to abandon the tight warmth of your hole, hugging his cock like the world’s prettiest little fleshlight. he simply fucks back into you with a blissful groan. slowly, painfully, knees quivering as his seed squirts out with every thrust.

patrick is louder when he does it; grunting with a guttural "mmf— fuck!" hips stuttering jerkily as a torrent of sticky warmth floods into you, oozing out from between his cock and tashi's fingers. it dribbles down your legs and spatters wet splotches against the tennis court. you can't even speak anymore, lips parting in wordless gulps of air.

that's when tashi yanks her fingers out from you—strings of cum trawling, stretching out of your pussy as she does so. you don't even have time to mourn the loss before art's stuffing you full of his dick again and tashi is cramming her warm, wet fingers in your mouth.

art is simply jerking in slow, torturous movements, and tashi is sliding her hand so far down your throat you almost choke. she smiles. "suck." it’s an order—not that she has to. you're already wrapping your tongue around her digits, mindless and drooling. patrick slumps between your knees, tongue greedily lapping at the spurts of his cum lazily dribbling from your pussy, in time with art's thrusts.

the concrete sizzles against your back, sun warming your limbs—dried cum smeared on your cheek. you feel dizzy, you feel good. warm. this is everything you've ever wanted—everything you‘ve ever needed.

(your coaches really do know best.)