#I'm a wet wet puddle of tears now

[shiraishi-kanade]

So, I kept thinking about the sustain pedal joke I made about this moment.

(which I mistakenly called suspension pedal in my original post - I don't know why, I guess I was sleepy)

And the more I think about it, the more beautiful it becomes to me.

Because - hey, proseka definitely does mystify music quite a bit, but it's still realistic at it's core; and realistically, there's nothing other in a piano that could produce such an effect. Especially in piano: sure, there's difference between slamming on the key and pressing it gently and with intention - but it was probably still the pedal.

(Mostly because the sound I heard definitely made me think it's played with a sustain pedal, and hey, let's pretend I know something about music.)

The image of baby Touya being fascinated by something that simple as a sustained note was funny and a little ridiculous for me before, but it's really not, is it?

Imagine this: Touya, three years old, is sitting on the bench for the first time, his stature so incredibly small against the giant instrument, and he presses a note for the first time. His feet don't reach the pedals yet - he probably didn't even notice them at all, like I used to, - he doesn't understand why he sounds so different from his father, how his father sounds so much better when playing - that must've felt like some sort of incredible feat, a blessing, of some sorts, to play so beautifully.

(He doesn't know yet that in just a couple of years he'll he playing with the same beauty, his mistakes discernable to his father and himself, of course, but the story of the piece, the shape, the emotion of it - that's what the audience hears more than any imperfection,)

A pedal. How simple. And how, at the same time, it's anything but.

How many generations upon generations of musicians have perfected their craft before him, how many started with just one key? How many composers and masters came before him so that piano has the shape and sound we know it today? To create the piano's ancestors, the harpsichord, and the clavichord before it?

Because in every single instrument, every single iteration of it, there's love. For Touya's piano to have the shape that it does, the sound, the tuning (the tuning!), the 88 keys, 56 white and 36 black ones, seven full octaves and three more keys, for that sustain pedal to exist in the first place, someone out there had to love music so earnestly, so honestly that their love kept the instrument alive, that shaped it into the virtuosic one we know it to be today. Every piece written, every variation, every note placed the way that it is, so many mechanisms, tender and complicated, that someone had to put together so painstakingly in order for the music to take form and then become the standard.

Centuries of history, for a child to fall in love with it at the first touch.

That is music. That's the purest, most innocent essence of it. It always has been.

That's what Touya is about, too. He loves music, he falls in love with it so easily and honestly. The first time, when he's three, when he doesn't know anything other than his father and the piano, when the strictness of his father and the pain it will bring later is at the periphery of his vision - but not there enough to make him afraid of it more than he's excited to learn, to play.

The second time, when he's fifteen, full of shame and guilt and regret, and when he meets Akito - and he falls in love with music, again, and again, when he sees Rad Weekend for the first time, and when he sees it for what it truly was (a testament of overwhelming, irrefutable love that is there to stay forever, unlike...) - but he knows better now.

Because oh, Touya understands loving something. He understands loving music. He loves music so much it's stupid, he loves it so much that he forgives it for anything, for all the pain and suffering, because what else is Touya, too, if not a testament of that love - his father's, his family's, and thousands of musicians that came before him?

And now, that love, just as overwhelming and undeniable as RADder's love - that love is now a weapon in Aoyagi Touya's hand, something more powerful than anyone else could have ever given him.

Because that childlike innocence and fascination in little Touya's eyes, and everything that allowed it to happen is the clearest evidence of love that lives, by design, in art itself.

I just... I just think he's neat, okay?

[keeps-ache]

wailing at the sky I'm tired ! ! ! ! ! !

[revelboo]

I'm sorry for asking in advance. Feel free to ignore if you don't want, but could you give us some scrumbs about Cliffjumper? Whether it's TKO Part 8, some cute scenario, or a bit of smut, that's fine by you.

I love the way you write him. <33

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Scenario-Trust

Cliffjumper x Reader

• “You sure about this?” He asks. Knows you’re still hurting, you have to be to have been betrayed like that. And he’s turning and freezing as you let your robe fall to puddle around your feet. Those eyes uncertain and shy as they meet his optics then flick away. Trusting yourself to him and it’s humbling. Terrifying, too. The fear that he’ll fail you, break that trust twisting through him.

• Wrapping your arms around yourself as self consciousness kicks in, you wonder if maybe you read what’s between you two completely wrong. And if you just flashed your best friend. That to him, you’re only friends. Jaw clenching as your fingers dig little crescents into your arms, embarrassment has your eyes burning. “I’m sorry,” you manage, crouching to grab at your robe and fumbling to get it back on.

• Rocking into motion realizing you took his hesitation all wrong, he growls. Not at all surprised that he’s already ruining this. Kneeling in front of you, he catches your hands. And his spark hurts when you look up, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Frag,” he whispers, hating himself as he pulls you into his arms. Cheek brushing yours, before his mouth finds yours in a soft, too short kiss. “It’s not that I don’t want you. I do. More than anything, I want to claim you,” he says, trying to reassure you.

• “But?” Because you can hear it in his voice and he vents, head nudging yours as he cups your cheek and uses a servo to wipe away the tear. It’s not like you’d had the most confidence to begin with, but your fiancé had destroyed what little you had. You’d been worth so little to him, that he’d thrown you away without hesitation. You’re not sure you can take another rejection.

• “But,” he growls back, trying to get this right when talking’s never been his strong suit, always better at using his fists. “I want you to be sure this is what you want.” That he’s what you want. Because surely you’d prefer a gentler bot, someone who’d be better at this. And you’re just staring at him before you kiss him and shift against him. Straddling his thighs as your face reddens and you can’t seem to meet his optics.

• “I’m sure.” And he shudders slightly against you, his mouth moving against yours. Nothing like that gentle kiss a second ago, his mouth is a demand as he hooks an arm around you and slowly bends you back, lowering you with your legs hooked over his hips. And he nips you, the shock of his denta sinking into your bottom lip lighting through you to make you gasp. Feel something brush against you and when he breaks the kiss, you realize he’s freed his spike.

• Hands sliding to your hips, he rocks the length of his spike against you. Do you have any idea how many times he’s fantasized about this? How often he’s recharged curled around you and had to hit the washracks the next morning to deal with his aching spike? Growling when he tries to speak, his engine revs. Knows he’s not going to last long this first time. He’s imagined this too many times and you’re so wet as he keeps stroking himself against you, slicking himself with you. “Last chance to change your mind.” Because once he’s inside you, he’s not going to be able to stop. Isn’t sure he can even stop now.

• “Cliff,” you whine in protest, hips lifting. Because you know what you want. And it’s this rough around the edges bot who always puts you first, took care of you when he didn’t have, when you were awful to him. Finally he shifts over you, the head of his spike sliding against you before you’re arching with the slight burn of him stretching you. Hips pumping before you’re adjusted to him as you gasp.

• You’re so tight, soft and wet wrapped around his spike and he was right. He’s not going to last nearly long enough this round. Not as you make those noises for him, hips lifting to meet his thrusts. And he’s shuddering with a snarl, overloading to fill you as he swears and rests his head against your shoulder. “Not done yet,” he manages through gritted denta when you cup his cheek. Finding a rhythm as he begins to move against you again, determined to bring you with him this time. To be worth you.

[cod-indulgences]

König x female!reader, period sex, blood play, references to oral while on a period, one moment of licking blood/slick, still sweet how does he keep doing this

You whine and clutch at his shoulders as König works the last of your clothes off. Your shirt is in a puddle by the door, bra hanging off the bed, and your back arches as he finally gets your pants open and off. You're so turned on it hurts, an ache deep in your belly.

He moans with you as he slides his fingers against your pussy. "Scheiße, so wet," he moans, and slips his finger inside you. You are wet, already leaking around his hand, so slippery and sensitive... you frown and let go of his cock.

"König, wait," you say, and as he draws his hand back you look down and see bright crimson streaked all over his palm and fingers. Mortification floods you, and you clamp your thighs together, yelping when his fingers pinch you awkwardly. "Oh God, shit, I'm so sorry- it's early- I never would have if I knew, shit, fuck, fuck..." Tears spring to your eyes. You scramble for a sheet or towel, anything to mop up the red flow, but König stops you. His hand is still between your legs, and he gently strokes you, making you shiver with the sensitivity. He wipes a tear from your cheek.

"Ah, Libeling, do you think I'm afraid of a little blood? I will stop if you want, but I do not mind. You are so wet and soft for me like this." He kisses you, and slips his finger back in. The ache is still there, and now you can recognize it as period pains, but oh it feels so good when he touches you like this, clever fingers and thumb rubbing your clit, all the blood slicking you up and making your hips jerk. You're slipping out of embarrassment already, distracted with how your pussy clamps on his finger, begging for more. He kisses a whimper out of your mouth, sucking your lower lip. "So good, love, go on, give me a little one." He gets his head on your breasts, sucking at a nipple as you moan and grind. A second finger joins the first, the heel of his palm pressing to your clit, and you come in a little fluttery rush.

You can feel the extra wetness clearly, slick mixing with blood, and when König slips his hand out and shows you the thick strings connecting his fingers heat throbs in your pussy.

Then he fucking licks it, and your thighs spread on their own. It's so gross, so hot, so sexy and taboo to see him with your blood on his lips, and he groans, fisting his cock with his wet hand. "Delicious," he claims, and opens your thighs around him. "Next time I will eat it out of you," he promises, and then sheathes his cock inside in one thick, deep stretch. Your head falls back as you moan and lift your thigh, letting him hold you open as his cock splits you open over and over.

He's so big, he's bumping right up where it hurts, the cramping pains swiftly overshadowed by the pleasure. You can hear the wet sounds of his cock inside you, and he stares down at your pussy, captivated, watching the bloody mess smear over your thighs, around his groin and balls. You're so sensitive right now, clit all plumped up, he can't not thumb at it, rubbing back and forth as you keen and clutch the sheets. You're close to coming, pussy clamping down in waves, dragging at the fat head, and he sees it when you come, the thicker rush of blood around his cock.

König moans and keeps rubbing, fucking you harder, making your body slide against the bed; you're overstimulated and weak as heat blooms through your limbs, coming again. It's softer this time, and you moan and reach for him. He bends down to you, releasing your clit, and cups your face with his bloody hand when he kisses you, licking deep. You taste blood and slick on his tongue and feel his hips stutter, then press in and up; he comes deep inside you, a flood of come, adding to the mess between your legs. He stays deep, plugging you up until you wrench your face away with a gasp, panting for breath.

Your bodies are a nightmare, your thighs and lower belly marked where König fucked you so hard it splattered, and he's red from cock to navel. But you're thrumming with satisfaction, the pains resolved, and König kisses you so sweetly, bundling you up in his arms. You need showers, to do something about the sheets and mattress, but for the moment you can just enjoy the warm body pressed against yours.

[orcasoul]

Marcus Acacius Headcanons:

Marcus Is Overprotective When You Go Into Labour

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of childbirth, blood, complications.

Word Count: 2, 027

"That's right, just breathe through it, My Lady," one of the midwives whispers into your ear as you are gripped by yet another contraction, fingers digging into her shoulders and forehead resting on her chest while you are practically doubled over. "This is impossible!" you grit through clenched teeth as you ride out the crippling wave. "It's what our bodies are made for, My Lady." You press your hands into your lower back as you begin to pace the room slowly. "Where is Marcus? He should be here by now."

"He'll be here any moment, I'm sure. Why don't we get you into bed?" the midwife suggests. "No. I'm not having this baby without him." "I'm afraid it's not up to you, My Lady. Baby will come when it's ready." You walk to the balcony doors, searching for any sign of your husband, tears building in frustration. "I can't do this without him," you cry before another contraction clenches your stomach. It's much stronger this time and it steals the breath from your lungs. From out of nowhere the sound of hoofs echo through the courtyard and if you hadn't already been crying, you would have now, in relief as you see Marcus jump down form his horse before the animal has even stopped.

Suddenly, your feet feel warm and wet and you look down to see a puddle surrounding you. "Oh god, my waters have broken!" "We have to move you to the bed now," another midwife says and they both take a hand each to walk you over. The door bursts open and Marcus rushes to over to you, breathless and wide eyed. The midwives let go of your hands and Marcus holds you steady by your upper arms. "Marcus!" you gasp, clutching the sleeves of his tunic. "My love, I came as fast as I could," he says through heavy breathes. He turns to the midwives. "How is she?" "The labour is progressing well, General," a midwife answers.

"Arrrgh...!" you wail, collapsing into Marcus' strong arms. "It's okay," he soothes. "Let's get you into bed." Marcus helps you onto the bed, laying you back against the propped up pillows. He leans down to kiss your forehead despite the sheen of sweat coating it. "Marcus, it hurts!" you grip his hand, squeezing tight. He holds your hand in both of his, wishing there was more he could do for you. He's never felt so useless. "I know..." his voice cracks at the sight of your distress. "But you're strong and you can do this, I believe in you." The midwives are now either side of you, one of them setting down towels on the bed.

The other turns to Marcus. "General, would you wait outside please? We must examine your wife-" "No! I want you to stay, Please!" you plead frantically, not letting go of Marcus' hand. "My Lady, we must examine you privately-" "I'm not leaving her!" Marcus interrupted, sharply. "But sir, it wouldn't be appropriate for you to remain for-" "I don't give a fuck for propriety! I'm not leaving this room! She needs me." The midwife nods her head in respect, "Yes, Sir." They do their checks and you're surprised when they tell you it's already time to start pushing.

Three hours later and you're still pushing. Wave after wave of pure agony rips through your abdomen as you bare down with all your might. Marcus has slid behind you, his legs on either side of you while he supports your weight against his body. One hand is taking the brunt of your pain while the other dabs at your forehead with a damp cloth. "I don't think I can do it anymore," you say, sluggishly, head lolling on Marcus' shoulder as the latest contraction eases. "Yes you can. You're more than capable, darling. You're doing so well," Marcus encourages you. The midwives have now been joined by a Medicus. Marcus had insisted on summoning a Medicus after two hours of slow progress. Better safe than sorry. Your back arches against Marcus and you scream. The contractions are now only a minute apart.

"Isn't there something you can do to help the baby along?!" Marcus asked the Medicus, trying but failing to keep his frustration hidden. "She's been at this for hours." "We're doing everything we can, Sir," the Medicus reassured. "Is it normal to take this long? She's exhausted." The Medicus sighed, "Everything's fine, General. It's perfectly normal for this stage to take a few hours or more." Marcus knew he was being overbearing, but he doesn't care. All that matters to him is the well being of you and his child. So used to being in control is he (wether it's on duty or at home) that having to rely on someone else leaves his nerves feeling frazzled.

He's always been a rock for you; always been able to make anything better and now for the first time, he's completely helpless. A sob so desperate breaks from you that Marcus can literally feel his heart crack in two. He brings one hand up to cup your cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. "It's okay, my love, I'm here," his voice shudders as his eyes fill with tears. "You're strong. You've got the heart of a warrior, you know that? Just think, when it's all over you'll get to hold our precious child safe in your arms. Just a little longer, my sweet. You've got this." "Marcus, I ca- arrrgh!" Marcus' body instinctually tenses along with yours, as if the action could somehow impart some of his own strength into you.

"My Lady, you must stop pushing!" a midwife suddenly instructed. Marcus' head snapped to the midwife. "Why?" "What's wrong?!" you both said at the same time. A moment of silence passed as the midwife leaned in closer to examine you, but to Marcus it felt like an eternity. "Tell me what's wrong!" he commanded, his patience wearing thin. "The baby's breach. Everything will be alright, but on the next contraction you'll have to push harder, My Lady." Marcus shuffled behind you, tightening his hold on you. "You can do this-" "I can't do-!" you cry in desperation but it's cut off by another need to push. "That's it, that's it. It's coming. keep pushing..." the midwife cheers you on. "The body is out!" she smiles widely as you collapse back against Marcus.

He can feel the heat from your flushed cheeks against his neck, your breaths ragged against his skin. He turns to press a kiss to your forehead, stroking your sweat slicked hair from your face. "Okay, one last big push and your little one will be here," the midwife excitedly exclaims. Without another word you tuck your chin into your chest and give it everything you've got. "That's it, you're doing it. It's almost over," Marcus praises you as you give one last scream. Then the most beautiful and anticipated shriek fills the room as the new life makes itself known. "It's a girl! Congratulatios, My Lady, General." The midwife holds the baby up and Marcus takes in the sight of his impossibly tiny and beautiful daughter. Her scrunched up little face framed with dark little curls makes his heart skip a beat.

He watches in awe as she is placed on your chest, your sobs of pain now replaced with tears of joy as your hands gently stroke her body, whispering how much you love her already. Marcus cups the back of her head, feeling her delicate warmth. "You did it, my strong, fearless wife!" he coos into your ear, unashamedly crying along with you. He couldn't be more proud of you; more in love with you than he is in this moment. But this bubble of joy is suddenly burst when your arms and head drop at the same time, your body going limp. Marcus looks frantically between the Medicus and midwives. "What's happening? What's wrong with her?!" The Medicus quickly places a towel under your legs. "She's losing too much blood." One of the midwives takes the baby off your chest, telling Marcus to move while the others lay you down.

Marcus hovers near the Medicus as the man and the other midwife jump into action, his heart in his throat. "Help her! Please, you have to stop the blood!" He can see they're doing all they can but as he watches, horror-stricken he just can't stop himself. "Do something!" he yelled in despair. "General, you must wait outside," the midwife holding his daughter steps in front of him. "I'm not leaving her!" "You must!" she now speaks more forcefully. "I know you're worried but you have to let them do their job if they are to save her. You must give them space." Marcus looks at her, a panicked haze clouding his mind. "And your daughter needs you, now." Those words alone brought Marcus back to clarity.

He takes his baby into his arms, the midwife wrapping a blanket around her and despite his every molecule screaming at him to go to your side, he leaves the room. He paces the hallway outside the door, whispering comforting words to his daughter as her eyes, your eyes, stare up at him. "Your mothers' a fighter, just like you, my angel. She'll be fine... Please," he prays the last word, hoping the gods will take compassion on you. A little while later the door opens and Marcus freezes when the Medicus walks towards him saturated in blood. His breath catches in his lungs, sharp and painful. No, please no! "She's stable, Sir," the Medicus informs him. Marcus' shoulders sag, the tension flowing from his taut frame.

"She lost a lot of blood and will be very weak for a while. She'll need plenty of bed rest for at least the next several days." "Thank you!" Marcus breathes out in utter relief. "Thank you for saving her. Can I see her now?" "Of course." The Medicus leads Marcus back into the room, where the midwives are tucking the quilt over you. "We'll give you a minute," a midwife says and they leave the room, closing the door behind them. Marcus pulls up a Curule (chair) next the bed and sits down with the baby snug and asleep against his chest. He gently takes your hand in his, the contact causing your eyes to flutter open. You smile wearily, squeezing his hand.

"Hi, darling..." his brows knit together in a sympathetic frown. "You scared me so badly back there. I thought we were going to lose you." "I'm... sorry," you mumble, voice strained from hours of screaming. "No, you've nothing to apologise for," Marcus kissed the back of your hand. "You did an amazing job." Your gaze falls to the baby. "Is she okay?" Marcus smiles, looking down at her in adoration. "She's perfect, just like her mother." "I need to hold her. I need to feel her, please," you say, almost in tears. "Okay, don't move. I'll bring her to you." Marcus carefully lays her down on your chest and his heart feels ready to burst at the sight of you both. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for this moment; the moment his life became whole.

"We're a family," he whispers, voice strained with trying to hold back a wave of emotions. You begin to cry again but this time Marcus isn't worried. The look of pure joy shining in your eyes is an image he'll always remember. "I love you," he whispers, voice filled with conviction. "I love you, too," you pause and look to your daughter then back to marcus with a beaming smile, "We love you." Marcus leans over to kiss both you and the baby. He truly is blessed by the gods. He has achieved so much in his years; wealth, respect, glory. But it means absolutely nothing compared to what he has now. Until today he didn't realise that this is what he was made for; to love, cherish and protect his family, and he'll do just that until his dying day.

[holybibly]

Today's unholy hours, bunnies

"This is exactly what you wanted, doll. Isn't it? Just what you need. Am I right?" Yeosang whispered in your ear, his deep, husky voice sending a shiver down the length of your spine.

The sound of your soft, half-choked moaning rang out in the evening silence of the practically empty library. The corner behind the tall bookshelves provided enough privacy for the two of you at this late hour, hiding you from the staff and other students who might accidentally wander into the most remote section of the Ancient Korean Literature section.

Yeosang's sneering laugh is accompanied by a particularly hard thrust of his hips while his cold, hard hands press you more firmly against the wooden table.

"And what? I'm not going to get a single sarcastic comment from you to answer that, bunny? The cat's got your tongue."

Any attempt at a reply or contradiction is cut short by the powerful, deep thrusts of Yeosang's hips as he drives his thick, wiry cock deeper into your screaming, needy cunt. He was fucking you so hard and so fast that it practically knocked all the air out of your lungs.

You hated him. You hated him so fucking much, but the feeling was stronger than you. Yeosang was making you crazy, and trying to deny feeling attracted to him was just stupid.

You wanted to turn away from the wicked, sneering grin on the handsome blond sempai's face, but he wouldn't let you. Yoe kept your fierce, defiant gaze on his angelic face, digging his fingers into your soft cheek and covering your mouth with his palm, so that you could barely breathe, choking on your own moans as Yeosang continued to fuck you mercilessly.

"Such obedience; I like you much more like this, doll~"

Your hands clutched at his shirt, crumpling the once perfectly ironed fabric, your nails scratching across his collarbones and the bulging muscles of his chest, leaving bright red scratches on his skin, when you rolled your eyes at the feeling of the orgasm that was about to come. Fuck, it was too good to be true, and you knew full well that you'd be kicking yourself for it afterwards, but fuck, Yeosang was fucking divine.

Who would have thought that your angelic sempai, Kang Yeosang, could be a real freak in bed?

You couldn't even make a sound of protest—just a whimper as he slowed his movements, denying you pleasure for the third time today. Fucking bastard. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you squirmed in your seat, letting out a muffled, frustrated moan that was too loud, even though Yeosang was still covering your mouth with his hand. The sharp sensation of your orgasm slowly began to fade into a small, pulsating stream of pleasure.

You were so wet you were probably sitting in a puddle of your own slime, judging by the nasty squelching sound you heard when Yeosang's cock was halfway out of your cunt. The amusement that danced in his foxy hazel eyes was so obvious and only grew as you raised your tearful puppy eyes up to him, and your coarseness and defiance dissolved into a silent plea for him to finally let you cum.

"Oh, wilful little slut wants to cum? Not such a cheeky little thing anymore, Y/N, eh? I told you to be quiet, doll. If you want to finally come on my cock, be quiet; otherwise, I'll be the one who cum tonight." That's how deep and sultry his voice was; it was just illegal. How could you resist him?

You nod desperately at what he says, and Yeosang responds by smiling smugly. The sweet expression on his face hides his sinister intentions as he begins to move again, this time with an even harder and more brutal thrust. His taut balls slap against your pussy with each rhythmic movement, and you bite his hand, causing the handsome sempai to hiss slightly in pain.

"You little bitch..." Yeosang hissed, changing the angle of his movements so that the head of his thick cock was now hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, and this time he had no intention of stopping.

You tensed, feeling the almost painful throbbing of your approaching orgasm, your eyes rolling back as wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure washed over you, shaking you to the core. For all your hatred of Yeosang, it was worth it. His cock was made of fucking gold.

His moans were barely audible as you clenched around his cock, his warm, thick seed staining the walls of your womb, and your pussy seemed to pull him even deeper in and hold him there, clinging tightly to the velvety length of his cock. All your senses were overloaded with pleasure, and every heavy sigh and every growling wheeze that Yeosang emitted seemed to prolong your orgasm, driving you deeper and deeper into a state of euphoria until you felt no connection to your body and black dots began to dance before your eyes.

When you finally managed to regain consciousness, you were lying on his lap, and your clothes had been returned to the tidy state they had been in before. You looked lazily around, still feeling heavy and unable to move. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as your still slightly unfocused gaze fell on the book in his hand.

"Are you serious, Yeosang? Classical poetry? You've just fucked my brains out, and you're still behave yourself like a good boy? Of course, the exemplary sempai, Kang Yeosang."

"Ah, now that cheeky mouth of yours is back again. I guess you haven't learned your lesson, doll; you have to be quiet in the library."

[mrsnegan]

Arrangement

Warnings: smut, 18+, age gap, f!masturbation, forced orgasm, overstimulation, squirting, mean!Joel, darcyyphilia, he is emotionally unavailable, but reader is desperate for anything from him, m!masturbation, facial, slight cum play, use of good girl and slut

A/N: I'm horny af, so I serve you messy smut. Enjoy!

"I...I can't."

"You do what I say when I say it, we clear? Repeat it."

Joel watches your legs shake, fingers still working your sensitive clit. You've lost count how many times you came already, the wet puddle of your own release underneath you a reminder of your own depravity.

He loves you like this, obedient, at display, all his. A trembling, desperate mess.

"I...fuck...I do what you say," you repeat, voice breaking from the onslaught of overstimulation.

"Good girl. Listening for once." He walks towards you, his boots hitting the wooden floor, the sound ringing in your ears. "Gonna cum for me again."

The moan spilling from your lips is a plea for his mercy and his touch at once, a desperate attempt for his sympathy. But that isn't part of the deal, part of your arrangement with a man old enough to be your father, cruel enough to kill dozens of men without even blinking.

"Please Joel, need you," you hiccup, tears of overstimulation threatening to spill over. Your fingers still rub your swollen clit, your pussy lips already puffy from all the stimulation, glistening, begging to be kissed.

"No, you gotta cum again on your own like this or ain't stopping. Cry as much as you want, darlin', I know you need it. Need to give it all to me, ain't that right? Need to be empty, head to toe."

You whimper at his words, tears now streaming down your cheeks, your hole clenching around nothing.

"Harder, I know you need it harder. C'mon, one more time and you'll get a reward."

You double your efforts, your fingers rubbing yourself furiously, eyes squeezed shut from the pain and pleasure alike. As much as you would love to stuff your fingers into your leaking pussy, giving into the urge to feel even slightly full, you know only Joel's allowed to give you the fullness you crave. And he isn't in the mood to grant you your wish.

So you scream louder and louder, your orgasm crashing over you without warning. You squirt again, shaking uncontrollably while you soak the sheets, collapsing against the pillows beneath you. You don't hear Joel approaching, don't register him taking his achingly hard cock out and stroking himself to your messy form. But you can feel the heat radiating from his body and open your eyes just in time for his cum to hit your hot cheek. Mouth opening without his command, you taste his salty spent on your tongue like a woman starving. He paints your face, covering you with himself.

"That's it, pretty little slut," he pants. His fist glides over his cock effortlessly, milking himself until the last drop drips onto your lips. "Beautiful."

With the hand previously wrapped around his cock, he wipes a strand of your hair from your sweaty forehead, smearing his pearly release into your hair too. And even if you want something else, something more from him, you still lean into his touch, desperate for anything he has to give.

[starhwaobsessions]

Tied down

Synopsis: I couldn't stop thinking about this picture of hwa and how I would tie him up and ravage him if I ever get my hands on him. So, reader ties him up and overstims him.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: Seonghwa x fem!reader, tits n pussy, sub!hwa, dom!reader, mommy!reader, overstimulation, restraints, sweat, squirt, nipple play, implied established safe word (please be safe when practicing bdsm!!), unprotected sex (do not try this at home), creampie, my horny writing, anything else I may have missed

“Fuck, please!”

Labored breaths fill the air, accompanied by Seonghwa’s whimpers and overstimulated moans. Both of his wrists are tied to the bed frame above his head, his whole body on display in the sheets. His arms are straining against the ties, abs flexing against the overwhelming pleasure, and sweat glides down from his hairline to his flushed cheeks until it drips from his chin to join the puddle of bodily fluids accumulating on his tan skin. Tears threaten to spill in his eyes when he meets yours, eyebrows pinched together.

You're sitting in his lap, holding his cock hostage in the wet warmth of your hole. There's cum dripping out of you around his dick from his previous release, adding to the slick slide when your hips lift slightly before sitting back down fully. Just that little bit of movement has his back arching.

You slide your fingers through the drying come and sweat coating his abs from his first release before reaching up to torture his rosy nipples. As you pinch and tug at each nipple, he thrashes about, not sure whether to lean into or away from the stimulation. 

“Please!” He wails. “I can't, f-uck! No more please.” 

“No more?” You stop briefly to dig your nails into his pecs. A pout is evident through his ragged breathing and you pout to match. “Is it too much for your poor cock?” He sharply nods in response. “But I thought you said I could use you until I'm satisfied?” You wiggle your hips a bit to emphasize. He turns his head to bite into the pillow to muffle the whine that escapes him. You lean in close to his ear to whisper, “I thought you said you wanted to be good for me, hm? You don't want to disappoint Mommy now, do you?” You start to move off of him.

His head whips back to you at that, while his arms pull against the restraints to try to pull your hips onto him once more. With that one phrase, it was like the floodgates had opened within him. Tears fell from his eyes and whines and pleas from his lips. “Please, no, I'll be good. I'll do anything, Mommy. Anything for you. I'll be your good boy. I'm sorry, please. Use me Mommy. I want you to cum, Mommy. Please, fuck, I need you to cum.”

You grip his jaw with one hand, nails digging into his cheeks. You lay a quick peck against his lips before speaking, warm breath mingling with his own. “Are you sure you can handle me, baby?”

“Yes I'm sure, please use me! I need it, I need you, please just-”

He's cut off by a moan ripping its way deep out of his chest as you drop back onto his cock, also effectively knocking the wind out of him. 

“Good boy.” You smirk. 

Sitting up, you set a pace riding him, bouncing on his cock. His moans and cries play the perfect melody for the bed frame creaking under the weight of each bounce of your hips. Each bounce has a moan of your own echoing his. The sound of your ass slapping against his thighs fills the room, yet Seonghwa can still hear the wet, slick slide of your pussy on his cock.

He doesn't know where to look. You catch him going cross-eyed between watching the way you slide up and down on his dick, juices soaking your skin, and your tits bouncing in his face. Eventually, he gives up trying to watch both and throws his head back, eyes closed, with a groan. Though, his groan ends in a whine when you clench down on him and you can't help but smirk at his cute reaction.

You feel him twitch inside you and his moans become higher in pitch. 

“Aww is my baby close again?” You ask him, slowing down your movements. 

All he can muster at this point is a weak whine and a nod. He's thoroughly fucked out.

“Okay, baby. Just a little longer and you can cum with Mommy, okay?”

You don't wait for his pitiful reply. You lean back, placing your hands behind you on his trembling thighs and start bouncing again. From this angle, his cock hits that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars and you have to remind yourself not to lose yourself. Once you're stable enough, you move one hand down between your legs to rub circles around your clit. Heat starts to build in your abdomen. A flush blossoms across your cheeks and chest to match his. The stimulation to your clit adds sharp fireworks to the mix. Your thighs burn and you're overheated, but you can't stop.

You take in his sweaty, fucked out appearance and your pussy starts to clench rhythmically around him at the arousal that punches you in the gut. That gives him hope. He snaps his head up to meet your eyes. Glassy eyes, mouth hung open, and fire red cheeks are what greet you. He's a true vision and you thank God for this man underneath you. Then, he starts babbling and you swear you've made it to heaven.

“Oh my God, Mommy, I can feel you clenching. You're so close, aren't you? Please, Mommy. Please cum for me. I need you to cum. I want it. I need it.”

Heat and pleasure wash over you, completely overtaking your senses. Your eyes roll back and your toes curl and the moans you hear are the ones ripped from your own throat. You feel light as a feather, until you're dragged back to earth. You collapse on his chest, your tits dragging against his own sensitive nipples, and you can feel the liquid of your squirt coating his abs and chest.

You raise your head to lean into his lips. He's still babbling, thank you, mommy and you're so beautiful, mommy and you feel so good. You kiss him deep, yet slow and unhurried, effectively stopping his rambles. You want to stay here forever, but you can feel his very hard cock inside of you, pulsing with desire. So, you pull away just far enough to whisper into his lips, “cum for me,” your hips grinding against his dick as encouragement.

His reaction is almost instant. His body locks and his eyes roll into the back of his head. His moans crack into whines before breaking off altogether as his limbs tremble with the force of his orgasm. You can feel the few spurts of cum he had left fill you up, balls sufficiently drained after three consecutive orgasms. You let him ride it out, pressing your body weight on him to ground him and planting butterfly kisses on his neck and cheeks.

When he calms down, you sit up enough to take him all in with your eyes and capture one of his cheeks in your hand. “My good boy.” You kiss his forehead, then his nose. “So perfect for me.” Then his cheeks, and end with his lips. “You alright, baby? Was it too much?”

He nuzzles into your hand, unable to muster enough energy to move any more than that. His voice is scratchy from the continuous moaning when he speaks. “It was perfect. You're perfect.”

You huff a relieved, breathless laugh. Then, you sit up fully to remove the fabric around his wrists and toss it away, gently massaging his hands and muscles. As much as you want to keep him inside you forever, you know he’s very sensitive at this point and will be needing plenty of rest. So, reluctantly, you gently move off of him, cooing at his weak whimper to the friction on his soft cock. 

“It's okay, baby. I'm gonna clean everything up and we can cuddle and watch a movie. How does that sound?”

There's tears glistening in his eyes and you can tell he wants to reach out and hold you close but he knows the drying cum is going to be real uncomfortable real quick so he lets you go. You quickly take care of yourself so you can wipe him down, rub his favorite lotion all over his body as you massage his muscles, slip his comfiest pj bottoms up his legs, and join him under a clean blanket with a bowl of strawberries and a couple of water bottles, before tugging him close into you for your promised cuddles and Star Wars marathon. You kiss his temple and whisper your love into his hair as the opening rolls.

Spoiler: he falls asleep to your fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp, before the first movie ends.

[sgtgarricks]

afab reader x john price ♡

you've been having a rough week.

anything that could have gone wrong has happened and you were left feeling exhausted and drained. barely having the energy to even get upset. all you wanted to do was sink into your boyfriend's arms and cry your heart out.

but john had been gone for a few weeks now, and it felt like hell. 'course it's not like you blame him for being away, but you really wished he was here instead of wherever he was.

as you open the door to your apartment after your shift, you were already dreading the amount of kitchenware left in the sink. the pile had been steadily growing little by little and you could only heave a sigh.

the sight that greets you instead, is john price gently wiping the wet mug he had recently scrubbed with a dry towel. your breath was stuck in your throat, you could barely remember turning around and locking the door before running straight into his arms.

"hi, sweetheart." his big arms immediately engulf you in warmth, hearing his soft voice cooing internally melting you into a puddle. before he could say anything more, you break into tears.

not the sniffles kind, the wet, sobbing kind. you grip his shirt tightly as you sob into his shirt, all the sadness and exhaustion rolling from you in waves.

john said nothing, opting to hug you tighter and kissing the top of your head.

"i'm here love, i'm here." his words make you cry even more, having missed him tremendously. you don't even know how you eventually ended up on the bed, head tucked towards his chest as he continues to caress you soothingly.

you had one of the best sleeps of your life that night. and an even better morning when you wake up to the smell of breakfast and his kisses peppering your face.

[leighsartworks216]

You Have Me

Sylus x gn!Reader

Sooooo I got this idea suddenly and I had to write it.... I'm sorry 😭

Warnings: major character death, love confession, unrequited love, blood, angst, hurt no comfort, forehead kiss

Word Count: 650

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You weren’t making it out of this. You had to accept that. Had to remain one with the fact that your blood was leaking out of your wounds too fast. That you can’t move without making things worse.

You know it the second Sylus lays his eyes on you. The way his jaw tightens and brow pinches together. He kneels in front of you, in a growing puddle of red. When he finally meets your eyes, he must recognize the realization in them. You’re dimly aware of Luke and Kieran shouting for help as they run through the building. It would never get here in time.

“I warned you about rushing in, kitten,” he chastises. It holds no venom. You shiver and he takes off his jacket to cover you. It does nothing to stave off the cold.

You huff. “I had to protect her,” you say. “I had to save her, for you.”

The her in question hesitates at the doorway. All her Hunter training flees from her mind. She would have been where you sat now, had you not jumped in to save her like you did. She owed you her life. You wouldn’t have time to cash in on it.

Sylus sighs. “I know.”

You reach a hand out for his cheek. He meets you halfway, not allowing you to strain yourself. Your soft touch leaves blood behind. His sharp cheeks and pale skin, tainted with your ichor. “You were never mine.”

Your eyes are glossy as you look from your rouge fingerprints to his eyes. Wet with unshed tears. Death is inevitable. You don’t want to meet it sobbing.

You smile. It’s shaky, and it sends a dagger straight through his heart. “But I have you right now… right?”

He holds your hand, pressing it firmly against his cheek. Your fingers are growing cold. Your skin is losing its color. Your cheeks don’t flush for him like they used to. “You have me.”

His other hand holds your cheek, tilting your head down as he leans forward. A kiss, lingering and carrying the weight of your life, presses to your forehead. He pulls away and stares you directly in the eye. He can’t bear to look at your wounds again.

Your body shudders. Your eyes nearly close. His hand on your face shakes you slightly, urging you to stay awake. “You… You don’t have to say it back…” you start. Your breaths are ragged and slow. You wince, but you keep your eyes locked on him. Warm tears fall down your cheeks as you blink away the black spots encroaching on your vision. “I love you… I… I always have…”

He can’t. The words stick to the back of his throat like molasses. Instead, he forces a cocky grin. “Let’s go on a trip,” he says. “Just name the place. We can go anywhere you want.”

You wheeze something that should have been a bright, bubbly laugh. “Really…?”

He nods. “We’ll take my jet. And we’ll see all the sights.”

“Even the… tourist traps…?”

“We’ll see those first.”

You smile. Your energy is waning. The candle of your life burns low, the flame flickering trying to stay above the melted wax. “I like… the sound of… that…”

He leans in close, clinging to every last word. Your hand is only on his cheek because he keeps it there. You don’t have the strength to hold it there yourself. “And we’ll go to every shop that catches your eye. I’ll buy you anything you want.” He corrects himself, “Everything you want.”

You nod faintly. Your lips move, but no sound comes out. He presses his forehead to yours.

“You have me,” he whispers.

You smile. Your eyes flutter shut. He feels your last breath on his face. The smile doesn’t fully fade. The corners of your mouth stubbornly refuse to fall. A cold tear brushes his thumb.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

[mandy-asimp]

Safe and sound

Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: uhh some violence against Ian Doyle not too much tho, Emily's a bit delulu but aren't we all

Summary: emily begins to see your face around more, but it's impossible. You were dead. But when Ian Doyle is rumored to escape, you couldn't stay dead forever.

A/n: sum slight, sum sweet, sum short😋

She was walking to the steps of her apartment when she first saw you. She at first thought it was the sleep deprivation catching up. You couldn't be here...you...you weren't there. She told her self that as she walked up the stairs to her apartment.

Unlocking the door and feeling uneasy. That couldn't be right. She hasn't thought of you in awhile...she avoided you in her memory. You were apart of a time she...she can't let the team find out about you.

How did you find her? The question ran in her head as she sat at her table. Head in hands as she just tried to wrap her head around it.

Sergio jumped into her lap. He was wet. "Were you out in the rain, buddy?" She pet his back, but then it dawned on her. She didn't check the house.

She moved carefully, trying not to alarm the intruder if there was one. Checking each room carefully before heading into her bedroom. Finding the window open and a little puddle.

Shaking her head she just scoffed. "You're crazy, Emily. She's not here...it's impossible." She took a few deep breaths.

But before she left the room she put her perfume on the lock, just in case. She followed her night routine still on edge. Eventually finishing and trying to catch some sleep.

~

A thud woke her from her sleep, if you could even call it sleep. She looked quickly to the window and finding it to be the closed still. But she was up...she might as well check the house once more.

"Serg?...Buddy you making a mess?" She called out. Hoping it was just the cat. Yet, he was asleep in his bed. Completely unbothered. Did she hear a thud? He would've woken up, right?

Emily ran her hands over her face, trudging back into her room. She didn't bother checking anything as she climbed back into the sheets. Closing her eyes and once again trying for sleep.

~

Her eyes slowly peeled open. The way she was laying had her facing her bathroom. And her body froze in terror. There you were. Standing. Looking at your reflection so casually.

Your head snapped over to her but it wasn't you. Your eyes were glowing red and you had this look of disappointment plastered on.

Emily shot up, sweat dripping off her body. Her head instantly shot to look into the bathroom. There was nobody.

Why? Why were you suddenly plaguing her thoughts? She was so sure it was over...you were lost in the case. One minute you were next to her, and then the literal next minute...tears were streaming down her face now.

Through tears she checked the time, she was already running late. So quickly, she pushed the day so far back into her memory and wiped her tears. Quickly working to get decent for work and dashing out the door.

~

It's been three days since she saw you...or maybe saw you. Her mind was all sorts of foggy and it was playing into her job now.

They were on a case somewhere. Derek and her were talking to a lady about some cab driver. They had just finished and watched her walk away.

Her blood ran cold as she glanced to where she could feel eyes on her. You stood on the corner, ready to cross, but you weren't looking at her. A car flashed by and suddenly you were gone. She couldn't think anymore.

"Prentiss?" Derek waved his hand in front of her. His eyes moved to match where she was looking, seeing nothing there. "Are you ok?"

She hummed and came back. "Huh? Yeah...sorry I just haven't been sleeping very well. I feel like I'm seeing things suddenly." She tried to joke around it, but Derek was a good friend.

He knew it was more but he wasn't going to push while on a case. Maybe back at the BAU where Garcia can also help figure it out. But until then, they had a case.

"Well, let's get this case over with and then you can take as much princess sleep as a possible." He lightly joked. Gaining a small smile from the woman.

~

She was back at the door to her apartment. There was this green box outside. Neatly wrapped. She knew that wrapping all too well. It made her stomach twist in ways she hasn't ever felt.

Her breathing picked up a little bit. Then her phone rang, she was quick to answer it. "Hey Emily!" Reid's voice came through.

He went on about a movie, but Emily was too busy clearing her house. Having to turn down his offer as she grabbed her files. Saying her goodbyes as she got back up, catching a glimpse of the mirror.

She met your eyes and immediately adjusted her hold on her gun. "What do you want?" She whispered.

"What?" Reid's voice was mere background noise.

Emily turned around and just saw the box from her door. "You don't scare me..." she called into her house. Her phone got thrown to her bed. "You're above this!"

She turned around the corner in hope to catch you. But then it dawned on her again, you can't be here. It's impossible. The paranoia is eating her alive.

Emily came back into her room, seeing her phone still on a call with Reid. "Shit.." she whispered as she picked up the phone. "Reid?"

"Sugar?!" Penelope's voice came loudly. "Are you ok?!"

"Emily?" Reid came in, Hotch close behind him.

Emily let a sigh out, "I'm fine...I'm just really tired. Sorry for worrying you guys." She was quick to hang up her phone. Giving them no space to continue to question.

She let her head fall back and groaned. Laughing at herself once again as she got ready to leave for the night.

The wrapping threw her off still. She wasn't going to let it be the reason something does happen. She knew how you wrapped your gifts. You gave her so many. You even explained why you wrapped how you did.

"It one, looks way cuter and is easy to unwrap. And two, it gives more precision to be precise and make sure it's perfect for the receiver. Come, I'll teach you and you can use it to become the second best gift wrapper. After me of course."

Your smile was huge that day. The two of you spent the day watching movies as you wrapped up your Christmas gifts for her.

~

The next morning, she walked into the bullpen. Confused as everyone was watching Hotch's office.

"What's going on?" Emily frowned. Coming up to everyone.

A few shrugged, but before anyone could answer Hotch came out. "Prentiss can I speak with you?"

She gave a nod and dropped off all her stuff. Walking into his office and seeing him and a file. "Sir?"

"This was left on my desk this morning. I was wondering if it meant anything to you?" He handed over the file.

She opened it and it was practically blank. The only thing in the middle of the paper was a picture of her and half another person who was kissing her cheek.

She tried not to freeze infront of her boss but it was too much for her to not. "Emily, do I need to be worried about your safety?" He leaned forward. "I can have cops outside your apartment if needed."

She shook her head. "Can I...can I keep this?" Her voice was shaky. Hotch had only seen her like this once before. With her friend awhile back.

"Are you going to make any irrational decisions if I say yes? The team can help you if you-" he stopped when she shook her head again. "Is everything all right?"

She took a big inhale, letting it go slowly and nodding. "I'll be ok...can I...um have the day though?" She asked.

It was easily granted to her as she recollected her stuff and left without much to say.

She wasn't going crazy...you were actually alive. But that would make sense on how you've been disappearing within seconds?

She tried to make it work, thinking all the possibilities that could explain something. Her thoughts carried her into her apartment.

It wasn't worth checking anything, if you were already getting in and out then...why can't you just come see her?

Why is it secrets?

An unwanted game of cat and mouse?

What is keeping you from her?

You know why, Em...you know why. Your voice rang in her head. She could hear how soft it still was. How much emotion you could hold within your words even just the word 'the'. You were her second half. The one who she could crumble against and it'd be ok. But she lost you. She might not get you back.

She flopped into the middle of her bed and cried. She was finally mourning you. In her own ball curled up. Staring blankly at the wall.

And on one blink, you were there. She could see you standing there. Head tilted just slightly to the left and smiling sadly at her.

"Are you even real..."she mumbled. Emily was tired of seeing you everywhere and it not being you.

So when you moved closer and placed your warm hand on her cheek she gasped. It didn't even take a second before she was latching onto you and crying heavily.

You held her back in silence. Just letting her get everything out. You didn't mind it though. It felt natural.

It felt like the first time you held her. And she could feel it too. That both hearts were full again, designed to be one with each other.

"But you're..."she sobbed into you. Clutching you tighter as she began to struggle to breath.

"Hey, hey...just follow mine." You led the deep breathing. "There you go hun, steady breathing ok?"

She pulled back from you and really took in your face. Holding your face and crashing her lips to yours. It made you laugh a little as you kissed back. It was well overdue.

"I thought you died?" She dragged you to the bed, neither of you thinking as you laid down and let her lay on top of you. Your hand finding its home in her hair as you detangled it.

You hummed softly, "it was my only way to protect you. Sometimes, we have to make choices for the better even if it means the worse for ourselves. Doyle...he..."

The name made her tense slightly under your touch, "what about him?..."

"He...he had bad plans and I found out about them. I told Sean and he pulled me out instantly. They killed me off and reassigned me....I watched you from afar recently because...he's escaped. He's been watching you and your team. And if I knew any better...we're the final two. I wanted to see you one more time." You explained to her. Hating that this is what was happening to you both.

She held you even tighter now. "How's everyone else?" She was scared to ask. More scared for the answer as you took a deep breath in.

"They don't know I'm alive, but they know Ian is out." You answered quietly. There was more to why you showed up and you knew she was avoiding asking you anyways.

She was silent as she laid with you. But in her own mind, she was a wreck. She didn't want to really think about why you were here. She already knew.

"Will you keep me safe...for just tonight?" She almost sounded afraid. "Even if you're not here when I wake up...just one more night?"

The moonlight made her eyes sparkle in a way you would be a monster if you said no. So you did all you could, you pulled her so incredibly closed and held her till she fell asleep.

However, you were wide awake. You knew you next move. You were sworn to protect Emily Prentiss ever since you met Ian Doyle. He was a man of secrets and you pulled apart each one just for her.

You both were at risk here, but you just wouldn't let the risk go far for her. That's why it pained you to leave her before her alarm went off. You placed a delicate kiss to her hairline before climbing out the window.

You didn't leave her with nothing though, that morning when she woke up she saw the small box on her nightstand. It had your signature bow o top and a small note next to it. Till we meet again, i promise.

~

It had been awhile. Rumors are Ian Doyle was dead, but nobody could confirm it. Nobody but you.

You had caught him when you least wanted to. When it was right there with Emily. Sitting across from her and threatening her team.

"I'm going to take the only thing you care about...your life."

That was the only thing that man had to say for him to become your only focus. You had followed him for days. Left him clues you were lurking. You knew your presence made him a bit uneasy. That's what you did best after all.

You noticed how his actions towards Emily moved slower than planned. He was trying to lure you out with her, but it didn't work as well.

You were in this man's home. That was his only warning you gave. After that everything was fair game. Especially once you heard he was continuing his plans. It made your blood boil and you felt no mercy.

So, you followed Ian on a motorcycle, it was easy and fast, just your style. He walked into a pub with a few guys, but that never stopped you.

You got a table to keep them in sight while you out of theirs. And when he got up and went to the bathroom, that was your opening. With a silent fire, you made him defenseless. You took your time in there with him. Making sure he felt the years of pain he caused. Then you left him there for someone else to find.

Leaving the state, the country, anything to distance yourself then. You left for a few years. Five in total (there was a lot to clear up before you could). Finally though, you'd get to be with her.

You wanted it to be a surprise so you figured, what better surprise then at work? You had gotten in as early as possible. Slipping a little note and little box on her desk before leaving unnoticed.

And by eight in the morning, you had received a text saying it can't be true. It made you smile as you texted her back that you promised her to come back.

As she read it she fiddled with the ring on her finger, bringing Penelope and JJ's attention to it. They were having lunch in Emily's office.

"Woah! When did you get that?" The blondes instantly grabbed for her hand. Inspecting the dark red gem. "They must really like you..." JJ joked.

Earning laughs in return, "I got it awhile ago...from an old friend." There was a distant tone in each word.

Neither blonde believing it was just a friend. They shared a look and rushed off. Hiding in Garcia's bat cave until the end of the day.

Emily was going to find it weird, but she didn't want to ruin her mood. She was excited for your next appearance.

What she didn't expect was it to be at the bureau. When you waltzed in with a 'delivery'. You made a beeline for her desk with a goofy smile as she tried to not laugh at your getup.

"Are you Emily Prentiss?" You tried to contain your smile, failing miserably as tears sprung to her eyes.

She didn't care anymore she just hugged you tightly. She had you again and it felt right finally. Nothing was getting her as long as you were there.

The room stared at you two. Who were you that Emily was crying the way she was? They could only see your lips move but couldn't hear anything.

"I know sweet girl..." you hummed. Holding her head in place as she cried heavily. "Just follow mine." And you led the breathing once again. Calming her down to get her to look at you. "Well look at you FBI section chief Prentiss." You eyed her playfully. Getting a strong wack to your arm. She aged beautifully.

"You don't get to joke after what you did." She frowned seriously now. "You've risked yourself too far." She was silent for a second, knowing she wanted to know. "What did you to him? Is he really dead?"

"The night he was in a pub... He went to the bathroom and I was gone before his guys could even think of the possibility. He didn't deserve mercy." You kept it short. There wasn't much to tell anyways, you moved quick in your line of work.

"So are you.." she let her question trail off, but you knew what she was asking.

"In a sense, yes. There is no real harm against me or you. Therefore I have no reason to stay moving." You bobbed your head, letting Emily's smile infect you.

She fisted your shirt and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly but fiercely. And when she pulled away she looked at you with a hopeful shimmer. "Move in with me then. Stay with me this time."

You easily agreed to her, not needing to even think twice about it. And that's when you both heard a throat clear.

Penelope was behind on everything as she watched the end of you and Emily's moment. "I want a name, now." She demanded from her spot in the couch.

The two of you laughed at her tone, but you stepped slightly back for Emily to take the lead. It was her choice if the team got to know more about you or not.

"This is Y/n." Was all she said, but that's all you needed to know there was still so much for you two to talk about first. "I'm gonna take a second lunch," she smiled at her colleagues before collecting her stuff.

There were many unanswered questions as you left hand in hand with Emily. Penelope and JJ began to share many possibilities on what could be happening. But they would all have to wait till they finally did get their answers.

[daryltwdixon]

Kinktober #5

Edging

soooo sorry I've been slacking on these! I'm so invested in The Promise of Us I've barely thought about them lolol but hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut, all p*rn no plot :), dirty talk, Daryl is rough (but you love it of course)

“You’re doing so good, baby, you can hang on a little longer,” Daryl’s rough, sex drunk voice growls in your ear. He has you in his lap on the bed, your bare back against his clothed chest. It was utterly unfair at the moment— he’s completely clothed but he had stripped you down when you came into the room, unable to contain himself when he got back from his day of hunting.

His fingers swirl around your entrance, grazing your engorged clit, making you shiver. 

“Please,” you breathe. He hums in your ear, his two digits dipping into your slick entrance. Your back arches as he curls them up, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit. His free hand is kneading your breast and his legs tangle over yours, spreading you open for himself. His boots dig into where your feet curl against him in pleasure, but he holds your legs tight in his, spreading you even further as you squirm under his touch.

The pressure that’s been building over and over in you is right at its peak, ready to release any second, but as Daryl feels you constrict around his fingers, nipples hardening and your back tense against him, he pulls from you, grazing his wet fingers along your thigh, his hand rubbing you softly. His lips are on the column of your throat as you shake with overwhelming stimulation, the loss of your high. Your eyes brim with tears of frustration— from being brought to the edge over and over with no release. Daryl brings his hand up to cup your face and turn you to face him. He kisses your lips sloppily, and you whine into him. All you want is to touch him, for him to give in and flip you over and fill you. You feel so overwhelmed but frustrated at the lack of release that you still squirm now, even when his hands are gently, lovingly, slowly rubbing your thighs. 

As he releases your lips, he drags them across your face, kissing your tears. He would never want to see you cry, not really, but he knows how much you love edging— the feeling of finally getting to come undone after being turned into a blubbering mess, building and building with no release until he tells you to. He loved seeing just how far he could push you, knowing how much you loved it, even if you got flustered and frustrated in the moment. The way you would quiver under his smallest touches, even the brush of his lips on your neck could make you come undone when his fingers were inside you. 

His rough calloused hands travel over both of your thighs as you gasp in air, your chest rising and falling as you try to gather your breath back. He never knew he could make a woman feel so utterly blissful, never knew anyone would want him like this. To continue to be allowed to have his hands on you everyday, and that you would crave him just as much as he did you. Every time you let him see you like this, all he could think was how much you looked like an angel. A sweaty, flushed, beautiful angel. But the thing was, he was putty in your hands too, even when you weren’t even touching him. 

But it seems like after the first five times of bringing you to the edge, you’ve had enough. Once you get your breath back, you turn over, and he lets you squirm out of his hold. You bring his face between your hands as you come up to your knees on the bed in front of him, and kiss him hard. Your fingers find his hair, and you tug gently on the strands that catch, and the whine that escapes his mouth makes you nearly crumble into him. What you thought was already a gushing wet center has turned into a puddle beneath you, needing to hear him make more noises. Your hands quickly fumble with the buttons of the front of his flannel, throwing it over his shoulders in a haste.

“So desperate for me, hmmm?” He gravels as he pulls his sleeves off, throwing his shirt to the side. His hands find your waist, eager to feel your skin against his. Your skin heats even more at the feeling of his muscled arms snaking around you, bringing you in close.

“Get these off for me, will ya?” He asks gently, leaning back and looking at the zipper of his pants. You lean back, just enough where he can still hang onto you and reach down, undoing his buckle, the button, and zipper as quickly as your trembling, needy hands could. You were in a hazy state of need, ravenous for what waited for you beneath them. Salivating at the mouth, you bring your warm hand down into his pants, pulling gently at the hardening cock, letting it spring out from its confines. You tease and play as you try to pull down the pants completely, but when you try to pull away from his touch, his fingers dig into your sides. 

“Mm mm,” he hums his objection, “tha’s good enough–need ya,” he whispers, craning his neck back against the headboard, reaching up to your face with his lips. The smile that spreads across your face must be teasing, because his eyes darken as he grabs the back of your head with one hand, pulling you in fast before you can get away from him. As he hungrily kisses you, his tongue pushing and pulling and dancing with yours, his other hand pulls you up just a hair, and you reach down to align yourself with him. Just the feeling of his tip sliding over your center is enough for you to moan, throwing your head back. He groans in response, but he smiles to himself as he watches you become a mess above him, and before you can waste any time with more teasing, he pulls you down fast and hard onto him. Your head comes up with a scream, but turns quickly into a moan as you feel him stretching you–splitting you in half the way he fills you up so perfectly.

“God, baby,” he growls, “‘s like your pussy was made for me,”

You begin rocking your hips, unable to take any more waiting, but he has other plans. Suddenly you’re being pushed onto your back on the bed, and he’s on top of you, all the while keeping inside of you, filling your walls so snugly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him in even deeper. He growls into your neck, almost a purr, both arms wrapping under and around you tight as he pulls you into him. His hips begin snapping hard and fast, and you can tell he’s losing control of himself, not caring to be soft or gentle. You didn’t want him to be. You’re moaning so loud you are almost certain your neighbors will be avoiding eye contact for a few days. The mewling coming from you is only driving him crazier as Daryl keeps thrusting himself into you.

“Daryl, ss–it’s too much,” you stutter, barely able to gasp in a breath, your hands finding his hair. You’re so overstimulated by his quick thrusts, the way his pelvis rubs against your clit every time, the smacking of his balls against you and the way he’s holding you so so tight against him, “Mmm gonna–c–cum if you don’---don’t stop,” you manage to moan out.

He slows his hips and releases you slightly around your body, his one hand coming to cage you in the side of your head as he looks down at you, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. You bring one hand around to push his bangs away from his face so you can look into the sex drunk blue eyes that look down at you. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Daryl did. Like you were a gift from God himself. His other free hand comes down between you, and your eyes go wide, shaking your head. Your hand in his hair grips the nape of his neck, and the other hand is pushing against his chest in objection. Oh god, oh god. It was too much, way too much. You couldn’t take it anymore, you were going to lose your mind if he didn’t let you cum in that moment. His thrusts slow to an agonizing pace, his thumb gently pressing down on your clit. The smile that flits across his face is almost teasing, but then he leans down, taking your lips in his, so tender and gentle, a stark contrast to his roughness moments before. He pulls back just an inch, so that when he speaks, you can feel his hot breath and lips moving around the words.

“Cum for me,” he growls, and suddenly his hips are smacking into you, his cock burying himself into you so deep it's all you can do to not scream his name as he continues, but he leans into you further, as he notices you holding back. His hand comes to your jaw as he puts his body weight on you, grabbing your face, “Nah-uh, baby, I wanna hear you. Your pussy already tells me ‘nough, the way it sucks me dry, pullin’ me into you so fuckin’ perfect–tell me, tell me how good you feel, angel,”

And then you really scream his name as you seize under him in pleasure.

[jyoongim]

OKAY I DID THE GAME AND GOT PROMPT 4 SO IM REQUESTING AN ALASTOR X READER WITH 50 AND 58 PLEASEE 🔵

(also I did the game with my gf and showed her all the stuff I'm into 👀)

Prompt 4, #50 & 58: smut no plot “behave, I wouldn’t want to have to punish you now w/ act like a brat, Ill treat you like a brat”

Alastor x brat!reader

The lounge was buzzing with people.

You were nursing a drink, looking at all the people dancing.

You wanted to dance.

”c’mon Al lets hit the dance floor” you chirped. The red demon shook his head and went back to talking with Mimzy.

You pouted.

You had got all dolled up and he wasn’t even paying any attention to you.

So you took matters into your own hands.

You slipped from your seat and headed to the dance floor, spotting an attractive demon who would love to feed your ego for the night.

You flashed him a flirty smile as you began to dance, encouraging the man to approach you.

He took the bait.

A warm body slithered behind you, hands grasping your hips.

You happily accepted his advances, keeping your smirk hidden when you saw Alastor turn and meet your eyes.

He beckoned you back and you threw your hair over your shoulder, giving your dance partner your attention.

You rubbed yourself the demon, letting his hands roam as you danced to the music.

Warm breath grazed your neck ”why dont we get out of here huh?”

You giggled and before you could utter a response you felt a familiar shadow wrap around your leg, tugging.

A warning.

Behave dearest

You ignored it, shooing the shadow away. You didn’t have to listen to him. You were out to have fun and if Alastor wasn’t going to pay attention to you, then another would do just fine.

”Buy me a drink at least” you purred and the demon happily wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the bar.

Alastor was staring into the side of your face as you flirted with the demon.

The demon excused himself to the restroom and Alastor gripped your arm, lips at your ear “I suggest you stop this behavior darling, wouldn’t want to ruin our night” his voice was void of the radio filter.

You huffed, glaring at him “I am having fun! Something you seem to want no part in”

His claws tightened around you, pulling you into his lap “now now dont go acting like a brat, you dont want to be punished do you?”

You swatted him away when your date came back.

You ignored his warning and turned your attention back to the male.

Alastor had had enough of your antics and bid Mimzy a goodbye, as he plucked you away from your date.

You resisted, pouting and huffing as he dragged you out of the lounge.

”Al! Let go! i was just having a bit of fun. There was no harm-”

He pushed you into a dark alley, your back hitting a brick wall.

You grunted as he pushed you to your knees, shadows restraining you.

He leaned down, fingers gripping your chin, sneering 

“You want to act like a brat, then Ill treat you like a brat”

You went to make a smirk remark when a tentacle slithered against your pulsing cunt. “!” You bit your lip.

”You’re not to cum until I see that pretty face smeared in tears and even then I wont stop until you soil the ground”

You jerked against the feeling of the appendage toying with your slit, slipping into your panties and playing with your clit.

You whined as it dipped into your cunt, curling and  wiggling around your gummy walls.

In the quiet alleyway, the sounds of your wetness echoed as you tried to hold your orgasm back.

Your face was buried in Alastor’s pant leg as you panted and push your hips back against the squirming tentacle.

Your thighs were sticky with your slick and a small puddle had formed underneath you.

”A-Al please…I-I fuuuck” you whimpered, tears running down your face, smearing your mascara as your cunt tightened.

Alastor hummed, running a hand through your hair 

“Brats dont get to cum darling”

[dark-frosted-heart]

Lewd Punishment - Roger Barel

This is part 2 of 2 of the prison guard AU story set.

NSFW, Minors DNI

cw: non-con, dub-con, guard x prisoner dynamic, aphrodisiac use

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

The prison guard known as Roger's methods of discipline were cruel..

Prisoners were all given a suitable punishment, and guards were allowed to use any means necessary to make the prisoners submit.

Yeah, that's what I knew, and yet—

Lewd, wet sounds resounded in the cramped cell.

Kate: Please stop already.

I clutched at the wall as I tried to take the cock that was pounding into me.

My body ached ever time it went in, and I'd almost crumble from pleasure whenever it pulled out.

However, a large body was pressed up against me, as if to tell me that I couldn't escape.

Roger: Who was it that tried to go behind my back and steal the key to escape?

Kate: But...ahhh

When I couldn't help but clench around him when he thrusted deep inside, he grabbed my chin and turned my face toward him—

Roger: I would've considered letting you out if you stayed a good girl.

He smirked and captured my lips.

Kate: Mnnn, haaa

His tongue entwined with mine, and as I struggled against the kiss that cut off my breath—

Kate: Ahhhhh!

—After a couple of thrusts, I came. He pulled out and I felt its heat against my back.

Without any support, I collapsed onto the floor, making a splash in the cold puddle beneath me.

(It's finally over...)

My relief was short-lived as he looked down at me in amusement after putting his underwear back on.

Roger: Well don't you look satisfied.

Kate: I don't!

Roger: Haha, but this ain't a punishment if you got off on it.

As he was about to leave the cell—

Roger: Ah, I just thought of a great idea.

He turned around and took out a small bottle.

Kate: What is that...?

When I asked him nervously, his smile widened.

Roger: It's an aphrodisiac I made.

Kate: Aphrodisiac...?!

He lifted me up by my handcuffs.

Roger: Its effects depend on the person though, so I'm still fine-tuning it.

He then hung the chain on a hook that was dangling from the ceiling.

Kate: W-what are you doing?

I was suspended in the air with only my toes touching the ground.

Roger: I'm gonna test this on you.

Kate: Huh...

Roger: I get to test this out and you get punished. A great idea, isn't it?

Kate: I don't think so.

Roger: Alright, settle down.

Then, he poured the liquid onto his fingers.

Roger: If you wanna have fun with me, you'll need some training. To endure the pleasure.

Kate: Nnnnn

The aphrodisiac was smeared along the area between my legs.

Roger: I'd be rewarding you if I played with you now, so I'll be back after taking care of some business.

Those words made my blood run cold.

Roger: Be a good girl now.

Kate: No way...Please hold on a moment.

He gave a wave as he left, leaving me in despair.

--

Kate: Mnnn...haaaa...

(What time is it right now...)

With each shallow breath I took, slick dripped down from between my legs and soaked the floor.

In my dazed state, I could feel even the slightest vibration...

(It hurts, but I can't come)

No matter how I moved, I couldn't touch the right spots.

I was aching so badly I wanted to cry.

(I wouldn't have tried stealing the key if I knew I'd end up like this)

In pain and in distress, I finally reflected on my crime.

Kate: I'm sorry, Roger.

The moment I mumbled those words with quivering lips, I heard the cell open and looked up.

Roger: I heard you, but you're such a mess.

Kate: Roger.

He entered the cell and rubbed me between my legs.

Kate: Hyaaaa!

The slightest bit of stimulation was enough to make me want to come.

Roger: Come on, endure it. If you come, I'm gonna leave you here for a couple more hours.

I held on to those words and desperately tried to hold back.

Roger: That's it.

He then stroked my cheek with an ecstatic look—

Roger: Haha, you're tearing up.

He smiled wickedly and lowered his hand to his belt.

Roger: Want it?

He was so big, I could see the outline of his cock through his pants.

He peered into my face when he saw me gulp.

Roger: Is there something you wanna say?

Kate: I'm sorry for trying to escape. It won't happen again. So please, Roger. Give it to me.

When I tossed my shame aside and uttered a teary apology, he grew even harder.

Roger: Well done.

Kate: Mnn, aaahh—!

The instant he thrusted deep inside, I came.

Slick gushed out all over the floor and I almost passed out.

Roger: Just putting it in made you squirt. Was it 'cause of the aphrodisiac, or were you just that horny?

Kate: I-it's the aphrodisiac—aaaaahhhh!

More slick gushed out and this time, it got on his glasses.

Roger: Ah~a, your juices got me wet.

Kate: S-sorry.

His thrusts grew more intense.

Kate: No, stop, it's driving me crazy.

I was still squirting with every thrust. Though it felt good, it also scared me.

I tried pulling away, but I couldn't resist the powerful thrusts.

Kate: Ahhhhh!!

I sobbed at how intense my next orgasm was.

Through my tears, I saw his eyes glimmer like a beast's.

Realizing how he wasn't going to stop until he was satisfied, more tears flowed out.

Roger: You poor thing *kiss*...you're the cutest thing ever.

I refuse to use the dick euphemism they went with here (hot stake) and I'm not in the mood to use any other euphemism, so we have Kate using "cock".

The last line was voiced, hence the *kiss* that wasn't in the written dialogue

[dreamscapesofimagination]

I just came across your stuff and love your writing.

Soo…

NSFW Tohma?

Maybe…please 🫣

Pretty please 💫

Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy my writing! Sorry this took so long- i started and then forgot about it tbh. I have ADHD and have been off adderall for several months so object permanence is non-existent lol.

TW: D/S dynamics, Tohma is a tease, strict+pleasure dom Tohma (i am feral), fingering, as usual short/curvy fem reader in mind.

---------

It had started innocently.

Tohma, ever the persistent manipulator, had suggested a movie on the rare night you both were free. A horror movie played on the screen, both of you cuddled on Tohma's couch.

It had been surprisingly good- at least you had thought it was.

Tohma clearly disgreed, and now you couldn't focus either.

His lithe fingers curled inside of you, your skin feeling too small as strangled gasps of pleasure left you.

"What's wrong, darling?" his voice was smooth, teasing. His breath warm.

"So wet and I've barely done anything- I suppose it only makes sense that you're eager, it has been some time since I could properly take care of you," his thumb pressed into your clit as he spoke, tearing a broken whine from your throat.

The squelching noise from between your legs was embarassing, thighs sticky with the slick that the ghoul pulled from you with ease.

You could imagine the sadistic smile on his face, enjoying the puddle of need he had reduced you to.

"Please! I... I wanna cum!" You pleaded with him, writhing in his arms.

Tohma tutted in your ear, "patience, dear. Let me take my time with this."

His voice was low, a steely warning to not push.

But you were too far gone, sweat trickling from your hairline, slick dripping around his long fingers.

"Please, please please!" it should have been embarrassing, begging him to take you apart.

His breath grazed your ear, "if you cum before I say you can, then you will keep cumming until I am satisfied." a cruel curl of his fingers, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you jerked in his hold, keening as your orgasm ripped through you.

Tohma's fingers rode you through it, and panic welled inside of you when they didn't slow down.

You squirmed, trying to escape his grasp, or press into him further. The scorching pleasure bringing tears to your eyes, and the last thing you wanted was for this to stop.

"What a shame, now my fun begins." Tohma's voice was sinister, causing a flicker of fear to shoot through you, drowned out by the arousal that pooled at his words.

Tohma was a thorough lover, and if you disobeyed him then your night was far from over.