#a primal call to arms.

[bluebellhairpin]

i'm not a lannister girlie but something stirs inside me when I hear those first note's of rains of castamere play.

[goxjo]

! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice. 

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru��s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place. 

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ‘Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that’s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[yuujispinkhair]

CAUGHT

You don't know when things changed or why, but at some point, you started to run not because you wanted to escape but because you wanted Sukuna to catch you.

King of Curses!Sukuna x Reader (female). 3k words. 18+, smut, dubcon/noncon in the beginning because Reader was given to Sukuna as a gift against her will. Later it turns into primal play, which both enjoy. Getting chased and caught by Sukuna, rough sex, light choking, Sukuna bites Reader, creampie, squirting, breeding. Sukuna is portrayed in human form (only two arms etc). Minors don't interact. Dividers by me.

This story is inspired by this beautiful fanart by my lovely friend @sweetlandspos. Thank you for blessing me with this sexy picture!

Your breath comes out in soft puffs as you run light-footedly through the forest, only wrapped in a thin, almost see-through white silk robe. The skin on your arms is raised in goosebumps, but not because you are cold. It's the thrill of the chase, anticipating the big, terrifying King to catch you and take you. The thrill of not knowing when exactly he hunts you down and overpowers you. Your lips open in an excited chuckle. Your nipples are stiff and rub against the delicate fabric of your robe. Desire is pulsing hotly between your legs.

You have lost count of how many times you have already run from Sukuna, only to get captured again and brought back to his shrine.

In the beginning, you ran because you were truly trying to escape from this powerful, scary man you had been given to as a gift. Ryomen Sukuna, The King of Curses. The most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Everyone groveled in fear when Sukuna visited a town. He could easily kill anyone and ground the whole place to dust with just a flick of his hand. So, people tried to please him by offering their loyalty, making sacrifices in his name, and bringing him gifts.

And you were one of those gifts.

The only daughter of your town's most prosperous merchant. Your father has always been someone who knows how to negotiate, and he took his chance when he saw Sukuna marching toward your town. He had you dressed up in your most beautiful clothes, your skin adorned with gold and jewels, and then you were led toward the man known as The King of Curses.

Sukuna was pleased with the gift. He placed a large, strong hand on your upper arm and pulled you to his side as a broad smirk spread over his striking features with the black markings. He took you with him and told you he would make you his little bride one day if you behaved well enough. Until then, you would be his favorite pastime.

Your town still stands. No blood was shed. The only sacrifice that was made was you.

Maybe it was selfish, but you were scared of this powerful, cruel man and angry that your father had just offered you to Sukuna as if you were a thing, forcing you to give yourself to Sukuna almost every night so he could find relief in your body after a busy day.

And so you did the selfish thing and tried to escape. You sneaked out at dusk because it was the easiest time to slip away, and there was still enough light so you could find your way through the forest surrounding Sukuna's shrine.

The first time you ran, you came as far as the first line of trees, already thinking you made it. But then you heard the heavy footsteps behind you.

He didn't run. He just walked casually as if he was in no hurry at all. Just a leisurely stroll through the forest. It somehow made things even more terrifying. Only hearing the slow but heavy footsteps of this huge and dangerous man. Hearing the twigs snap beneath his feet. And his low, velvety voice calling out to you, taunting you, making fun of you for thinking you could run from him.

"Are you a little bunny? How amusing that you think you can outrun me. Come on, little bunny, give me your best!"

Sukuna laughed. And you ran as fast as your feet could carry you, your panicky breaths loud in your ear, your heart pounding so fast that you felt delirious. Fear was making the hair on your neck stand up, adrenaline rushing in your veins, making you run faster than you ever had before in your life.

But, of course, it wasn't fast enough. Sukuna let you run yourself to exhaustion that night, always casually strolling behind you as he basked in your fear. An experienced hunter, confident and dangerous.

When he finally had enough of the little cruel game, he snapped his fingers, and you only managed to let out a terrified squeal as you felt his magic wrap around you, paralyzing you. He made time stand still just with a snap of his fingers! His power terrified you, made you weep tearlessly as you stood there frozen in midstep, trapped helplessly as the King of Curses slowly walked up to you.

Sukuna's voice was dripping with amusement and sadistic joy when he stopped behind you,

"Oh, little one, I didn't take you for a playful one. But I am not complaining. This was a nice little distraction. But it's enough now. We're returning to the shrine, and I will show you your place."

He snapped his fingers again, and you stumbled forward, gasping as you caught your balance and instinctively started running again. You only got a few steps away before a pair of muscular arms wrapped around you and lifted you from the ground, even as you screamed and struggled. It was a futile attempt, of course. The King had caught you. You stood no chance.

Sukuna wasn't gentle when he threw you over one of his broad shoulders and carried you back to the shrine. And he also wasn't gentle when he pressed you down on his bed later that night and took you with even more force than usual.

One of his large hands captured both of your wrists and pinned them above your head while his heavy, muscular body pressed you down, knocking the air out of you with every hard thrust. You screamed when Sukuna sank his teeth into your flesh, deep enough to leave his mark on you forever. He healed the wound afterward, but only so much that it would still leave a scar, marking you as his for the rest of your life. A reminder of your failed attempt at running from him.

Maybe for anyone else, it would have been enough reason to give up and be obedient. But not for you. Only three nights later, you sneaked out again, trying your luck again.

And again and again after that. And Sukuna always captured you again.

You don't know when things changed or why, but at some point, you started to run not because you wanted to escape but because you wanted Sukuna to catch you. You wanted him to drag you back to his shrine and fuck you hard into his bed, showing you where you belonged.

"See, that's your place. Under me, stuffed to the hilt with my cock and my seed. You are mine. You are going nowhere. You cannot run from me, little one."

But you took his punishment all too willingly. And all his words did was make you throb around him needily, reaching your high even before him.

Was this still considered punishment when the one getting punished enjoyed it? When you squealed delightedly into the silk pillow that Sukuna pressed your face into as he took you from behind? When you creamed all over him when his hand tangled painfully in your hair and he fucked you savagely, with hard, brutal thrusts, while his sweat and spit dripped onto your naked skin?

He said you could never run from him, and yet you tried it all the time. It became a game. A game of catch. Sukuna was the hunter, and you were the very willing prey.

Your heart still raced wildly anytime you got chased by Sukuna. All your senses were heightened. Your veins sang with adrenaline as you ran through the forest, but your skin was also tingling with excitement, and your thighs were slick from the warm wetness between them, gathering there in anticipation of Sukuna claiming you again.

But you weren't the only one who enjoyed it. As tired as Sukuna sometimes looked after a day of meeting with people who wanted something from him, he was always fully alert and enthusiastic when it came to chasing you through the forest.

His steps were light, his laughter ecstatic, and his beautiful face alight with excitement. Just like his body was brimming with desire. You could feel his hardness pressing against you anytime he captured you, just as aroused as you were. The chase awakened something feral in both of you.

Sometimes, he didn't even wait until he carried you home but just took you right there on the forest floor, grunting in your ear as he mounted you like a wild animal, making you cry out and scream your lust into the night.

And now you are running through the forest in your thin silk robe, a delicious mixture of fear and arousal making your blood sing. Sukuna is taking his time today, and it makes the excitement even stronger.

As always, when you run from Sukuna, your senses are sharpened. Your muscles are taut, your body alert with the thrill of the hunt. He could be on you at any moment.

You wonder what he will do tonight. Use his magic or his strength? Will he tackle you to the ground and ram his cock into your heat, unwilling to wait? Or will he carry you back to the shrine, taking his sweet time to feel you kick and squirm in his strong arms, playfully fighting him, making both of you even more riled up, until it ends in a frenzied fuck in Sukuna's bed?

You strain your ears, trying to catch the sound of Sukuna's heavy footsteps. But there is nothing.

You frown. Where is he? Did he not notice you leaving? You haven't been exactly silent. You never are nowadays. But even when you really tried to escape and sneaked out without making any noise, he still got wind of it and tracked you down.

So why isn't he behind you?

You have almost reached the other end of the forest, and you slow down to a walking pace, looking over your shoulder expectantly. Hopefully. Longingly.

But there is no sign of Sukuna.

Does he maybe want to drag it out? Wait until you are about to set foot out of the forest, just so he can jump you and drag you back? You have reached the edge of the forest and come to a complete halt.

Your throat feels tight, and your heart is beating way too rapidly. But it's not the thrill of the chase that fills you with fear.

He isn't coming.

You hover uncertainly at the edge of the forest, not knowing what to do. You could keep running. You could make it to the river, steal one of the fisherboats, and disappear forever. Just like you originally planned when you first tried to run from Sukuna. You could do it now. You could be free.

But the problem is you don't want to be.

You let out a shaky breath and turn around. This time, you don't run from Sukuna but towards him. Towards his shrine. Towards his home. Your home.

At least, you hope it still is. Or did he get tired of your constant running? Of your stupid games? Is that why he didn't come to catch you tonight? Did he decide he doesn't want a woman like you who always causes trouble? Did he decide he doesn't want you to be his little bride anymore?

A desperate sob escapes your lips. Your feet move even faster now over the soft forest floor, your heart palpitating with fear because you are scared you are too late and Sukuna won't let you come back to him.

It's later than usual, the night is already falling, wrapping the forest into darkness. But you have walked this path so often that you can easily find your way through the tall trees.

Apart from the sound of your harsh breaths and footsteps, the forest is eerily silent. It's strange, you think. One would assume that you would encounter many forest animals at this time, but you can't see or hear any. It's almost as if they are hiding because they sense a much more dangerous predator nearby.

And then, completely out of the blue, a strong arm wraps around your neck, stopping your run abruptly.

Your piercing scream echoes through the forest. Your heart jumps up to your throat, hammering wildly, stars dancing before your eyes from the sudden shock of getting grabbed like that so unexpectedly. Your hands come up instinctively, trying to pry the large hand off your skin, fingernails digging sharply into it, but to no avail.

A familiar low voice announces smugly,

"Caught you, little one."

"S... Sukuna! I didn't hear you coming!"

Sukuna's hand tightens around your throat, squeezing it lightly, making even more adrenaline flood your already overly sensitive body. But it mixes with relief. He came to catch you! He didn't get tired of you!

He laughs softly, a sound almost like a purr, making the hairs on your arms stand up.

"Hmm, I was just watching tonight. And I saw the most curious thing. A little bunny that wasn't running from me but towards me."

Sukuna's low voice sounds amused. You feel his tall, broad body press against your back. Feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your robe. He is naked from the waist up, you realize.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, and your vision is blurry. Arousal pulses between your legs, wet and hot, filling you with an all-consuming, primal need for the man behind you. The man who was stalking you through this dark forest. Watching you. Hunting you like prey. The man who knows exactly what you did.

You feel shy suddenly. Caught, but not just in the physical sense. Sukuna knows. He knows that you weren't trying to escape from him. He knows that you so desperately want to be his. He heard you sob when you thought he didn't come for you. He saw you stumble back towards the shrine. Back to him.

It makes you feel exposed. Makes you nervous and light-headed. Your voice comes out hoarsely when Sukuna loosens the tight grip around your neck enough to allow you to speak,

"I must have lost orientation."

You can't see it, but you can hear the smirk in Sukuna's velvety voice,

"You think you are so sly, huh, little one? Do you really think I don't know what you are doing?"

His low voice drops to a seductive whisper when he adds,

"This little bunny wants to get caught."

A large, strong hand twists in the front of your robe, and then he tears it off you in one fluid motion. You gasp when the cold air brushes over your naked skin. But Sukuna's large hand immediately comes up again to grope your breasts, cupping them greedily, squeezing them, his long pointy nails scratching over your hardened peaks teasingly, making you whimper with lust.

The night air is chilly, but Sukuna's tall, broad body is warm, and the kisses he trails from your neck to your shoulder are searing hot, just like the desire coursing through your body.

You moan needily, pressing your naked body against the massive man behind you, feeling his warm skin on yours and the huge, hot hardness between his legs pressing against you, pulsing with arousal.

Your legs are shaking when one of Sukuna's large hands trails down your naked body and pushes between your thighs, cupping your cunt for a moment, just holding you, one hand around your throat, the other on your most intimate body part. Truly caught.

He laughs softly when his long fingers dip into your warm cunt, feeling your creamy wetness, evidence of how much his little bunny loves to get chased by him.

Relief and exhilaration flood your senses. Sukuna caught you! He didn't give up on you! He still wants to keep you!

As if reading your mind, Sukuna leans down, his lips brushing over your hair,

"You were so scared I wouldn't come, huh?"

The words are smug, but his voice is full of something else. Something warm, like affection.

He pulls his hand away from your dripping cunt, letting the night air kiss your swollen clit while Sukuna pushes his trousers down. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your breath coming out in short, weak huffs, and a soft whimper falls from your lips.

And then Sukuna snaps his hips, and a loud gasp escapes your mouth when he pushes the swollen head of his heavy cock into you, stretching your tight cunt open around his manhood. With another roll of his strong hips, he claims you completely, burying himself fully in your tight heat.

He lets out a low groan, his strong arms tightening around your much smaller body, pulling you against him, holding you in place as he ruts into you, taking you while standing up, just like he caught you.

Sukuna's low moans grow louder, just like the filthy wet noises of him claiming his prey, mounting you from behind right here where he caught you, filling the otherwise silent forest with the animalistic, primal sounds of fucking.

You push against Sukuna eagerly, moaning when he snaps his hips even faster, fucking you hard and deep. Giving in to his desires after holding back for so long while he stalked you through this forest.

You reach behind you, needing to touch him, whimpering when you get a hold of Sukuna's taut backside, digging your fingernails into the firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin. Your eyes fall shut, and you lean against him, taking his cock eagerly, mewling and sobbing as the pleasure builds deep inside you.

You feel Sukuna tense up behind you. He growls as his hips buck and he fills you with his hot seed, thick spurt after spurt. And your lustful cries echo through the forest as you reach your high, too, clenching around Sukuna's length, milking him greedily. Your arousal sprays everywhere, over Sukuna's cock and onto the forest floor beneath you, while you cry out his name over and over again like a prayer.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you, even after you both found completion. He is still behind you, naked, buff body pressed against yours, his thick cock still deep inside you, breeding you, showing you that you are still his little bride, pulsing the last drops of his orgasm into you while the first rivulets of his warm seed already run down your thighs.

You lean back against him, pulse fluttering, feeling ecstatic after the hunt and after coming undone with your King in the middle of the dark forest.

You can feel Sukuna's broad, muscular chest rising and falling with every breath. His hand around your neck has loosened its tight grip, and the long fingers with the sharp nails lightly caress your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your forehead, his fingers tugging on your hair, pulling your head back against him.

You are so entirely at his mercy, caught in his strong arms, stuffed with his thick cock. But you feel no fear. You know you are safe in your captor's arms.

Sukuna leans down, humming softly before he presses a possessive yet tender kiss into your hair.

"I will always come to catch you and bring you back home, my little bride, no matter how often you run."

And instead of feeling scared by his promise, a pleased smile lifts your lips.

HE MAKES ME FERAL!! 😭😭

I would be very willing to be Sukuna's little bride and his beloved prey, which he chases through the woods ;)

Thank you so much for this sexy pic, Émilie!! I saw it, and my mind went crazy 💗 I will think about this forever! I hope I could make you smile with this little story!!

And thank you so much to everyone, who read this story!! I hope you enjoyed getting chased by Sukuna ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[sttoru]

[ 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 ]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the king of curses cannot fight off his primal urges and thus you suffer the consequences.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, angst (w/ comfort), p.orn with mostly plot. mäting press. choking. rough like.. condescendingly rough. objectification. toxic relationship? yes. small hint of creampiē. double cawks. reader gets called ‘slut, girl, woman’ wc: 3.9k

“look at that slutty cunt takin’ my cock. think i wanna try fitting both at once in that lil’ hole. keh,” sukuna grunts as he looks down at you from above. your legs are burning from being folded in half—matter of fact—your entire body is aching.

any normal person would call out their safeword in a situation like this. you’re overwhelmed to the point that your brain doesn’t know what to do. you’re experiencing euphoria, yet feel like your doom is right around the corner.

you’re playing with fire whenever you’re intimate with the king of curses.

it’s too addictive to stop. being his favorite concubine has given you enough motivation to push through any difficulties. any discomfort your body feels, is automatically discarded and replaced with drowning pleasure. it’s like sukuna has put a spell on you; one that’s unbreakable.

“fffnghh—my lord,” you gasp for air as one of his big hands wrap tightly around your throat. your airway is blocked, nearly crushed by sukuna’s immense force. you get a flashback to the last time he’s choked you, how sukuna nearly lost control of his own strength.

your eyes are watery as your insides follow each thrust. back and forth, in and out. it is a simple rhythm, but you cannot get enough. the harsh and sticky echoes of skin slapping against skin are nearly ear deafening. his heavy balls bounce against the plush flesh of your ass with every move, ready to unload everything they’ve stored.

“shut up,” sukuna spits, looking down at you like you’re but a mere insect. perhaps you were exactly that to him in the heat of the moment. his red eyes show that he’s losing himself. that cruel yet greedy look only intensifies with the second, “you only speak when y’re spoken to—or did y’ forget your damn place?”

you swallow your words and resort to simple moaning after you apologise, “i’m sorry, m’lord.” your blurry vision creates a trippy illusion, giving sukuna eight arms and eyes. not only are you seeing double, the feeling of ecstasy is twice as strong. you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside.

you can’t speak about it. you’re not allowed to open your mouth unless it’s to moan or breathe. perhaps even the latter is too much to ask. your fingers shake as they wrap around sukuna’s wrist. you try to tug at the hand that is wrapped around your throat, but your strength is gone.

your body is shaking violently with each thrust. you can’t keep up with anything that’s happening. you’re unable to process the feeling of sukuna’s second cock trying to prod its way into your cunt as well. you’re going to break — he’s going to break you.

you want to speak up and tell him you can’t take both in the same hole at once. it’s an impossible task; one can’t even fit that easily. he’s girthy and got an immense length, an inhuman one you’ve never seen before. you swear you can feel him in your tummy. the tip feeling like it's nestled right underneath your belly button.

sukuna scoffs as you tighten up around his lower cock. you’re weak; a weak human who he can’t seem to get out of his mind. he wants to exploit that obedience of yours today—to ruin you mentally and physically.

he can’t ignore those urges to ruin that what causes him weakness. he wishes to regain the power over himself again. that can only be done by consuming you, removing you from existence.

“i can’t fuckin’ stand you,” sukuna growls, his eyes darkening beyond imagination, “y’re always in the way.” you’re scared of the king of curses, which rarely happens. the last time you were afraid of his monstrous aura was during your first encounter in the woods. his manly hand squeezes your throat until you’re genuinely struggling to breathe.

there’s an unmistakable sense of danger boiling in your guts. this is the real nature of the curse named ryomen sukuna. the man above you, who’s drilling his cock into you while you’re suffering, is the real deal.

the true face of the man you thought you knew.

“i’m gonna get rid of you, y’hear? after this, y’re nothing,” sukuna pants, sweat droplets falling onto your cheeks from above. he looks like he’s internally fighting with himself. the expression on his face tells you enough. you want to reach a hand out towards his cheek and hold it.

he looks beautiful, even when he spews such serious threats at you. your cunt is burning and holding tightly onto his cock, even when you realise it may break you.

you’ve stayed for so long with him, even when you know you’ll one day die at his side or by his hands.

locks of his pink hair stick to his forehead. sweat rolls down those black tattoos. all four red eyes are burning with a carnal desire to claim you as his property—to destroy you like his property. as is his right. that’s the only way to satiate that overwhelming feeling inside of sukuna.

whenever you’re around him, he finds himself drawn by your presence. he wants you to stay by his side all day, and if you aren’t, it’s like gravity is pulling him towards you. sukuna despises it—he craves to possess you, yet also get rid of your entire being. that way he can return to his normal self. the monster he's known as.

“i’ll throw ya away—gonna get a new toy to spend more time with,” the king of curses digs his nails into the back of your knees. the tip of his upper cock glides back and forth over your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until it’s burning. you’re losing yourself in both pleasure and pain.

the hurtful words don’t seem to affect you. you still look up at him like he’s your everything—like he’s the reason you exist. sukuna turns furious the moment he notices that his threats don’t seem to work. you’re impossible and he hates that which he cannot control.

he cuts off any air that may enter your lungs. your eyes widen and your fingers tug at his wrist so he’d let loose, but alas. you’re going to lose consciousness without a doubt. tears stream down your cheeks, though not because of the hopelessness you’re feeling.

“i do not need you anymore,” sukuna says gruffly, trying to convince himself of that statement as well. he never needed anyone else during his entire lifetime, so why would he need you? he can replace you with any another woman.

your body goes limp. sukuna’s voice is muffled as you enter a state of half consciousness. you’re at the bridge between life and death. your eyes catch a glimpse of the faint struggle in his eyes.

he looks like a monster through and through, visibly acting like one too. though you’re able to catch a glimpse of an underlying vulnerability. that part of him that always shows itself when you two are alone—making you feel special because you’re the only one allowed to witness it.

you crack a faint, weak smile. even if you perish right then and there, it’s going to be at the hands of the man you’ve learnt to love. the sorcerer who’s made you feel on top of the world, without him realising it. you’ll forever be thankful for the moments you’ve spent together.

you’ll never forget the times where sukuna has made you feel safe in those same arms that will now be your death.

a tear slides down your temple. you look sukuna in the eyes while you’re seconds away from meeting your end. you show no signs of struggle as he gives you your final command;

“die.”

you close your eyes. your fingers loosen their grip around sukuna’s wrist before you let your hand fall at your side. you’ve accepted your fate with a weary smile, honored to have sukuna be the last thing you see, “understood, my lord.”

you’ve lost feeling in all limbs and your eyelids droop. all you can do is await for death to come collect your soul. it’s dark and you can’t hear a thing anymore. you’re confused when the burning sensation in your lungs returns.

your eyes fly open the moment some oxygen is able to reach your airway again. the harsh fingers around your neck have disappeared, though not without leaving aching marks. you clutch your chest as it hurts to breathe after not being able to for the longest time.

you gasp and cough uncontrollably. you wince and blink the tears away from your eyes, refocusing your vision on the large stature detaching from your side. you’re bewildered to say the least—not realising the reason behind sukuna’s sudden change of heart. he’s sworn to get rid of you, didn’t he?

he told you to die and yet he let you live.

“fuck,” the king of curses groans after he snapped out of the dangerous state he was in. he’s panting snd staring at the hand that was once wrapped around your throat. he’s not looking at you at all.

you feel him pull out which makes you hiss. you sit up, the adrenaline helping your tired body move itself. sukuna is silent, with no emotions apparent on his face. however one thing you can conclude for sure is that he’s caught off guard by his own actions.

he can’t get it out of his head. the vision of you laying beneath him, accepting your doom as told. even on the brink of death, you oblige. you accept his every word. why? sukuna’s head is filled with unanswered questions.

you’re an enigma that he cannot solve.

“out of the way, girl,” sukuna easily shoves you to the side with one hand. he’s still not looking you in the eyes. he refuses to look in the eyes of the one woman whom he tried to kill. the sole woman who seems to accept him for who he is.

you’re the only one who’s able to understand him and yet he tried to get rid of you. perhaps he’s afraid of being understood and accepted. sukuna is fine on his own—there’s no need for anyone by his side.

you manage to get your breathing under control after a couple seconds. you’re still hyperventilating, but it’s getting better. your body shakes as you cover yourself with the sheets, your hair messily covering your vision. you reach a hand out to sukuna, curious about what’s gotten into him, “i’m, ngh- are you okay, m—”

“i said, get out,” the man raises his voice before harshly grabbing your wrist. sukuna pushes you towards the exit of his chambers. you stumble forward and manage to catch yourself by grabbing onto the nearest wall. everything is happening so fast.

you simply nod and grab your robes from the floor. you hurriedly cover yourself before stepping out of the room. you fall to your knees not two steps away into the hallway. your hand flies up to your neck, touching it as if making sure that you’re still alive.

you can’t believe sukuna spared you. if he changed his mind one second later than he originally had, you’d be a lost cause.

tears well up in your eyes as the gravity of the situation settles in. you may have accepted your fate in the heat of the moment, but now that it’s over, you’re left trembling on your own. you can’t shake off that intense look in sukuna’s eyes as he pounded you into the mattress.

he was hungry for your soul. to consume you and not leave any of your bones—to get rid of you so you’re out of his sight and mind.

you sniffle and can’t bring yourself to stand up. you’ve lost strength in your legs because the adrenaline levels in your body have dropped. you slowly crawl over the floor and hope that no one catches you in a pitiful state like this.

you manage to get a couple metres away, though soon find yourself staring at a pair of socks that come into view. you lift your head and the owner of the tabi eventually appears in sight.

“uraume,” your voice is hoarse. you make eye contact with sukuna’s personal chef as they stand before you, their expression unreadable.

the sigh they let out tells you that they’ve expected such an outcome since long ago. without a word, they reach a hand out and help you up.

. . .

it’s been a week since then. uraume has helped you recover from that unfortunate experience. the other concubines didn’t dare talk to you. they’ve noticed the change in sukuna’s behavior after that night he spent with you.

he’s gone on more rampages than he usually does. he’s been killing innocent servants who walked past him while on duty, and visiting nearby villages only to commit mass destruction. his emotions are uncontrollable at this point and no one has a clue on what to do.

the best option is to stay out of sukuna’s sight. and not to mess with you, just in case.

you’ve personally tried to approach him a couple times, but either chicken out or get totally ignored. you really want to talk it out, though it may seem impossible. you’ve evaded death once, you’re not sure if you can do that twice.

you’re currently sitting on a bench in the courtyard as uraume is applying an ointment to your throat. your neck still hurts with every move you make. the strength of sukuna’s hand is not to be underestimated, you know that.

you flinch as they rub the cold liquid over your achy skin. it helps numbing the pain, which is god sent for when you want to sleep. you can easily rest without having to suffer the unbearable discomfort in your neck muscles.

it’s a bit quiet in the garden. it isn’t unusual for uraume to be silent, but you’re aching to talk about what’s bothering you. of course, the oh-so-important subject includes no one other than the king of curses.

you sigh and start rambling about your failed attempts to reconcile your relationship with sukuna. you’re getting frustrated and sad at the situation. you want nothing more than to go back to how things were—with you receiving special treatment.

you miss his voice, his touches, his hair, his skin, his muscles, his eyes, his hugs. . . it’s all too much to bear with. you want the sukuna you know back. you don’t care if he tried to get rid of you. you’ve long understood that it was his primal, unspoken urges that had taken over his brain.

“i don’t know.. he doesn’t want to talk to me nor see me,” you shrug and pout. uraume nods and tilts your chin back gently to get the ointment in every little cranny. you stare up at the bright blue sky, the gentle breeze being comforting, both mentally and physically.

your ears pick up on footsteps behind you. heavy footsteps which you recognise as sukuna’s. you whip your head to the side, perhaps a bit too fast, causing the pain in your neck muscles to return. you hear uraume sigh as they see their hard work go to waste in under a split second.

your eyes are focused on sukuna’s large stature filling out the layout of the garden. uraume politely bows at their master after taking a few steps away from you. they don’t lift their head as sukuna walks past you both.

he doesn’t spare you a glance. it’s like you’re not there at all. you frown and pout, though know better than to make a fool out of yourself and speak up. you watch the man walk into the main building of the estate, his sharp eyes focused on the path ahead, his hands resting inside the sleeves of his black kimono.

once sukuna disappears from your vision, you sigh and slump back against the bench. you look at uraume as they move close to you again, taking a glance at your neck. you huff and cock your head to the entrance of the building, “see! that’s what i mean!”

you’re clearly fed up. you just want to make up. you don’t care about the fact that he nearly killed you in that moment. you simply desire to feel that connection between the two of you again. a complicated relationship with its many ups and downs. it may be toxic, but you crave it.

uraume hums at your worries. they radiate a sense of peace that inevitably calms you down as well. they take a quick glance at the direction where sukuna was last seen. they’ve been serving him ever since decennia back—way before you became his concubine.

they’ve never seen him this conflicted, but they don’t tell you that. uraume looks back at you with a simple nod, trusting that you’ll be fine. if your life has been spared when sukuna was in such an indescribable irrational state of mind, then there’s nothing to worry about.

you’re the only one who’s ever escaped death by his hands. that is an incredible feat by itself.

uraume rubs the oil over your neck again, getting the last spots as they reassure you with one simple sentence; “i’m sure lord sukuna simply requires some time alone.”

. . .

you take uraume’s comment seriously. if sukuna needed time, you’ll give him as much space as possible. and thus it’s been another week ever since then.

it’s a sunday night and you can’t sleep. you get up from your futon and wrap a simple blanket around your body. you can’t be bothered to brush your hair or look proper. no one will be up during this ungodly hour anyway.

you sneak out of your chambers and walk down the long hallways. you slide the door to the courtyard open and step out onto the pavement after putting on your geta. it’s a chilly night with a full moon, perfect weather to take a breather.

you walk around the familiar scenery and crouch down near a patch of flowers. they’re your favorites. sukuna had personally ordered his servants to plant them in the garden after he found out you like them. the memory brings a fond smile to your face.

such small yet meaningful actions never fail to melt your heart. it’s another reason why you want to make up with sukuna. you want to help with whatever he’s struggling with, however you know that man will never accept the aid.

you wish to support him at the very least. you want to show your devotion to him, if that already wasn’t clear to him.

you sigh and stand up. you’re caught up in your own thoughts to realise that someone’s been watching you the entire time. you walk straight forward until you reach the koi pond. you stare at the fish as they float in the clear water.

you wish you could be as carefree as them. you turn around to walk back to your room after it’s getting a bit too cold. you did not expect to bump your head against a hard surface. “ow,” you rub your forehead and look up.

there he stands; the man you’ve been dying to see and speak to. sukuna stares down at you without uttering a word, his sharp eyes finally looking into yours.

“ry— my lord,” you stammer, switching to a more polite stance. you’re thrilled, but the excitement quickly dies down as you remember uraume’s words; he needs time. you don’t want to disturb him, as much as you want to jump into his arms. you bow your head at him, “have a good night.”

your heart hurts as you force yourself away from sukuna. you step away from him and look at the ground as you walk. simply seeing him from up close again has been enough for now. though, your body yearns for more.

a simple touch will suffice. . .

you’re surprised when you feel a tug at the blanket around your shoulders. you stumble back and nearly fall on your bum if it wasn’t for sukuna holding you up. you feel an arm sneak around your waist from behind, surprisingly gentle. much gentle than ever before.

sukuna lowers his head to whisper in your ear. he lets his wet tongue slide over the shell, nibbling at the skin as if reminding himself of your taste, “stay.”

it’s an order, that you can tell. you’re weak for him and thus you obey without a single sign of protest. you feel a sudden sharp sting on the side of your neck which makes you remember what caused it. sukuna seems to notice the same thing.

it’s been getting better, but you still randomly get tingles near your neck area when you move it around too much. you silently push through the pain, which only lasts about a few seconds.

sukuna doesn’t comment on it, but takes a mental note of the sight. he’s recalling that time when you’ve nearly died at his hands. his eyes darken at the memory. he’s been trying to process the fact that he’s lost control over himself. those dark urges had taken over his mind and body, nearly consuming him whole.

they’re still hidden inside him—the desires to possess you, crush you, consume and devour your heart, body and soul. they intensify when you’re with him. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.

sukuna still cannot comprehend why you. what does that feeling in his stomach mean whenever he’s with you? it’s irritating, because it confuses him. confusing things which he doesn’t hold the answer over, annoy the king of curses.

an urge to claim someone as his forever, going as far as to want to consume them, is a new feeling to sukuna. it’s an unhealthy obsession that’s started because of you.

is that what humans call love?

he’s thought about it. perhaps, that is the case. but it must be a different type of love—one that’s so overwhelming that it’s dangerous. for both parties involved.

sukuna sighs. thinking about emotions and feelings isn’t his forte—it never really was. it’s stupid and foolish. and yet sukuna feels like a true king whenever you’re with him. your devotion to him sends shivers down his spine in a good way.

it showed two weeks ago. he saw how you accepted your position; your death. it turns him on to see you so submissive and obedient. maybe that’s also a reason why he nearly lost his mind that day.

lust is a scary thing.

sukuna’s lips avoid your neck. he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, simply standing still against you from behind. the chilly breeze is long forgotten as his large stature protects you from the cold air. you don’t even need your blanket anymore.

you smile in content as you finally get what you want. you don’t even need an apology. hell—you don’t even need any words. this moment is more than enough to rebuild your relationship with the man behind you.

“y’re not going anywhere, yeah?” sukuna says in a low and possessive tone. it’s another command you follow without hesitation. he’s never going to tell you directly, but the lack of your presence has definitely been felt. now that he has you, his favorite concubine, he’s not going to lose you again. he won’t allow it.

you nod at sukuna’s words with a chuckle. you’re happy to be back in his warm embrace. you know that sukuna isn’t one to talk about his own inner turmoil, so you don’t push it.

those dark urges of his are to be discussed another day, if sukuna allows it. for now, this fleeting moment is more than enough. you reply to his order as you always do, to any command that leaves his lips;

“understood, my lord.”

[miupow]

★ ── OTHER THAN THE BED... ? ⸝⸝ [ HYUNG LINE ]

skz hyung line and their favorite places to fuck ! ♡

[ ⟡ ] ── NSFW, MDNI! ⭑ fem!reader, dom!skz, mirror sex, couch sex, riding, doggy, light primal play, talk of exhibitionism, name calling, spanking, wall sex, degradation, manhandling, possessive behavior

੭ ⭑ 𓂃⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 0.7k ] ⭑ [ m. list ] ⭑ [ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ]

⟡ 방찬 BANG CHAN -> bathroom mirror.

chan grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugged hard so you lift your head to face him-- or rather, the mirror in front of you. he had you bent obscenely over the bathroom sink, fat cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt from behind, his thrusts so hard and deep that the sink digs painfully into your hips and you keep narrowly missing hitting the mirror with your forehead. "look at you~" he cooed so sugary sweet, nasty and condescending, the smacking of skin and the wet squelches from your cunt nearly drowning out his voice, echoing against the bathroom tile. "look so pretty like this, babygirl." you hardly recognized the person that stared back at you in the mirror; your mouth hung open, unable to contain your moans and shrill cries of pleasure, drool leaving your chin spit-slick and shiny. your eyes were blown out, dazed and unfocused and utterly debauched. you wanted to avert your eyes, but chan wouldn't let you look away. you can see his handsome, sweaty face and his pretty smirk behind you in the mirror, his tanned skin pink and his hair sticking to his forehead. "go ahead, pretty girl, tell me what you see."

⟡ 민호 MINHO -> the floor.

"such a tight fucking pussy, so good for me--" minho rasped, panting like a dog; the pace of his hips made you throw your head back and wail, his pretty cock hitting so deep inside you were seeing stars. you had been being a brat all night, pushed minho's buttons until he snapped and put you back in your place-- he had pushed you down onto the living room floor and mounted you right there like some kind of animal, held you in place with his long fingers pressing blooming purple and pink bruises to your hips and neck. "gonna make me cum soon, fuck baby... gonna let me cum inside? let me fill you up?" your knees burned from the carpet but you couldn't find it in you to care, not when minho was fucking you this good. he goes faster, harder, enamored with the way your ass jiggled fom his thrusts, the way your moans only got higher, more pathetic and whiny. he slapped your ass, hard, and snickered to himself as you choked on your scream. "you like it when i fuck you like this, huh? whore. right here where anyone could see you? see how good i give it to you? fuck, my girl's such a nasty slut."

⟡ 창빈 CHANGBIN -> the wall.

"who's pussy is this?" changbin growled into your ear, calloused hands folding you in half as he pounded you against the wall. "hm? who's pussy does this belong to? since you don't seem to fuckin' remember." your legs swung uselessly over his shoulders, bin's white-knuckle grip pressing your knees up against your chest-- his thick fat cock hit all of the right spots, kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, filled you up so deliciously you were rendered completely speechless.. "i-i'm sorry!" you warbled, scratching uselessly at his bulging biceps, unable to say much else with his thick fingers sliding down your thigh to rub tight circles against your swollen, aching clit. you could hardly focus, greedily drinking in eyefulls of changbin's big arms as he flexed to keep you firm against the wall. "it's yours! i'm yours!" "damned right," he grunted, huffing breath unsteady, his thrusts growing slick and sloppy as he neared his climax. "fuck yeah, you're mine, all mine."

⟡ 현진 HYUNJIN -> the couch.

"i just want to cuddle, baby," he had sworn with a smile, patting his lap so invitingly and beckoning you to come sit, but you knew he was lying straight through his teeth-- in no time at all hyunjin had you stripped naked and bouncing up and down on his cock, helping you set the pace with his hands gripping tight on your ass, alternating between squeezing and slapping the flesh, his evil grin widening with every whimper and gasp he managed to get out of you. his big long cock was so deep it made your head spin; you could feel him in your tummy, his hips meeting yours with deafening smacks... "jinnie, jinnie, i'm gonna cum!" you squealed, your nails digging crescents into hyunjin's shoulders; he just bounced you harder, fucked you deeper, threw his head back against the couch cushions when your wet gummy walls spasm and flutter around his shaft. "shit, baby, gonna cum for me? gonna make a mess?" he goaded eagerly, lopsided grin and unfocused eyes making your pussy clench hard around him. "go ahead baby, cum on my cock~"

[wyvernest]

mating szn

PART 2‼️ (part 1)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: horny miguel, smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected p-i-v, breeding kink, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating, descriptions of oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

Stumbling and yelping in sync with his heavy footsteps catching up fast, you reach the first floor.

Before you get to offer yourself a fraction of a second to decide your next move, the hallway carpet curls up under your feet, slipping behind as your arms instinctively shoot forward for you to catch yourself.

Bringing one knee to your chest, you're prepared to launch yourself forward like an olympic runner. 

Too bad.

Miguel's broad hands grip your waist from behind, once again sending jolts of adrenaline throughout your entire system.

You scream in delight through playful giggles, calling out his name breathlessly and maliciously arching into his hold. 

You're getting wetter by the second seeing just how horny he is.

He pushes you down, forcing you on both knees. The deep pants from the chase quickly turn into something else as you feel his weight on your back, feel him get on one knee behind you. 

His grip on your waist tightens. He brings his crotch up to your ass, grinding his erection up and down your clothed slit.

His hips roll slowly, rubbing the thick shaft of his hard-on lazily and mindlessly, the motions shallow and enticing.

"Ah, come on, baby", He leans forward, nuzzling his face into your soft hair, basking in the slightly-sweet, flowery scent of your shampoo. With a messy kiss to your neck, he speaks, raspy with need,

"Can't help it." More wet, sloppy kisses to your neck, more thrusts of his rock hard cock against your drenched folds through the thin material of your panties and his boxers. "I need, I need - ugh" the words fail to form as his hot breath hits the back of your neck, followed by more kisses and bites.

He brings a hand to the meat of your right thigh, grabbing harshly. He then lets it slip up over the mound of your pussy, cupping you and pushing two fingers over your folds, still stopped by your panties. You shiver at the feeling of his huge, warm palm touching your core so pervertedly, so desperately. 

He can feel the wet patch on the cotton fabric, proof of reciprocated desire.

His senses once again catch the unmistakable, ever so dearly intoxicating aroma of you, so ready for him. His eyes roll back with a silent inhale, his bare chest rising and falling on your back. 

He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your plush thighs and lap at your essence, pussy-drunk and keen on overstimulating you; licking and sucking at your clit, circling around your damp folds with his tongue until you're pushing him away, begging for a break, swollen and exhausted.

He can almost imagine you, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing and pulling, either smothering him into your velvety cunt, needy and on the edge, or trying to escape his grip. He'd only hold you down, burly arms curling around your legs, just so he could make you come again, to feel you pulsate, feel your juices coat his mouth.

But with the way his cock twitches, begging for friction and stimulation, he can't think straight. 

He feels an overwhelming urge to shove himself inside you and fill you with his cum, to see his cock rearranging your guts through your belly, to empty his balls in your womb and watch his seed dribble out of you, and push it back in with his still hard cock, hold it there so that it takes.

His warm, eager hands travel down to your panties, and in their loose hold as he attempts to drag them down your thighs, you once again snake away, giggling with a sardonic grin that doesn't do well in covering up the desire evident on your features.

"¡Mierda!" He grunts, and you enter the bedroom, reaching the balcony door and turning around. You catch the sight of Miguel clawing at the door frame to take the turn and come in faster. 

Before you can react and take your eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts, the defined shape of his dick protruding erotically against the material, he pounces, caging you against the wall, distancing your legs far apart with one knee.

His palms slip to your sides, not missing the savory opportunity to settle on the sides of your tits. He fondles their softness with the heels of his hands, pushing them together, pressing his whole body into yours.

You let out a barely audible moan as he corners you, almost squeezing you between his muscular frame and the wall behind you, and he almost loses all that's left of his sanity.

He kisses your temple, full of yearning. Although, he's instantly reminded that his scent has worn off of your feverish skin.  

"Por favor,-" a deep groan vibrates in his chest against you, making you quiver.

"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.

"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.) 

You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.

"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.

He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.

Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.

You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.

Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.

The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.

As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.

His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.

He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his. 

Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.

He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.

The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers. 

Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.

Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties. 

He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)

Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.

You gasp, a little above a moan.

"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.

He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.

Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.

Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.

Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.

You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.

Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.

A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.

He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust. 

The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly. 

His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.

Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.

“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts. 

You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.

Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.

"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.

He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin. 

He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.

With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.

He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.

He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.

You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Dinner long forgotten.

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing

TAGS

@thel0velykey190 @allysunny @weirdothatwritess @animechick93 @6thhokageswife @spookydragonsong @aisyakirmann @playmatenextdoor @skulfan1 @sat10 @2joos2cry @2099hitmylineyline @aiyaaayei @holographicang3l @heartfairy @cyberbugg @freehentai @acrazybiotch374 @theywhowriteandknowthings @shinyberry69 @pluviophilis @barely-thriving23 @realalpacorn @thekidscallmebosss @hrlzy @m4dyy @cringeycookies @tendoswifi @greatheartattacks @reborn-rekall @darksidescorner @yehet-moi-ohorat @poeticmoonspirit @kth137

[honeyhotteoks]

an innocent man doesn't stand a chance (j.yh)

summary: it's halloween and your boyfriend has a fantasy. he wants to be the masked killer and for you to be the final girl, and he wants you to run.

note: this was written in a feverish haze of ghostface yunho brainrot, you can thank this fanart and this edit for making this one about yunho, but i have to give all credit for the idea to the nsfw audio creator augustinthewinter who's masked hookup audio killed me. also please read the warnings, this one is potentially very triggering.

warnings: ghostface!yunho x final girl!reader, boyfriend!yunho, hard dom!yunho, girlfriend!reader, sub!reader, sadism, masochism, knife play, primal play/chasing, threats of violence, heavy cnc that really looks like noncon because part of the play is that he wants her to struggle and say no BUT there are consent checks explicit throughout, rough sex, fingering, gloves, masks, breath play, impact play, mirrors, finger sucking don't look at me, dry humping, clothed sex, ripping off clothes, size kink, ass play, lots and lots of degredation including use of sl*t/wh*re/fvcktoy/c*cksleeve, yunho is seriously mean in this i'm not kidding, fear, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie, subspace, there's more i'm sure but this one is a doozy. also lots and lots of aftercare!! after a scene like this i had to write detailed aftercare and confirmation of limits, so that's there too! yunho is v sweet when not in the zone.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: smut and more smut, no plot in sight

word count: 7.9k

The party is in full swing when you arrive. The house bumping with music and every corner decorated for Halloween. You’re late enough that you can just slip in through the back door, and that was the plan from the start. Yunho arrived first, nearly two hours ago, and made excuses for why you were late, for how you might not even make it to the party. No one would see either of you come or go together, so when you both disappeared to play your game no one would ever know. You had come up with the plan in bed, whispered fantasies and what-ifs between the sheets as he rewarded your willingness to try something new with his tongue. 

His fantasy is special, and to do it right you can really only do it on Halloween night. 

You weave through a throng of drunk acquaintances, searching the crowd for him, but it’s not as easy to find him as you thought it would be. You’re not sure how a six foot something Ghostface killer could hide from you in the crowd of your friend’s house party, but no matter how many rooms you check you can’t see him. Nervousness pits inside you as you check your phone and see nothing. He could be caught up with friends, he could be changing his mind, but you can’t tell if you can’t find him. 

Adjusting your very 90s costume, you dart away from the kitchen where a group of your girlfriends are pouring shots and weave your way into the back of the house. Maybe you can call him? Text him? Would that completely ruin the mood of psycho killer stalking? Maybe, but it’s been forty-five minutes and you haven’t so much as seen a sliver of his mask. 

You flick through your phone, checking for any new messages, and then scroll to find Yunho’s contact card in your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button as you lean against the quiet hallway wall, and then in your peripheral vision you see it. 

A dart of black, something looming, and when you finally turn your head, you see him. Ghostface, standing wide and imposing in the hall, blocking any way past him and back out into the party. 

“Spooky,” You sigh, tucking your phone away. 

Silently, Ghostface nods his head. 

The hair on the back of your arms stands up. This is it. 

“What? Are you looking for the bathroom or something?” You take a step or two towards him, leaning into the character you dressed for. 

He shakes his head. 

“Looking for me?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Mm,” You raise a brow at him, “what’s the line from that movie? You wanna play psycho killer?” 

His head tilts slightly to the side and he nods once again. 

“And who do I play?” 

He takes a step towards you and you fade back. 

Fear starts to spread through you, even with it all being pretend, you can’t fight the feeling that your subconscious drums up in your gut. 

He takes another step, and then another, and then you’re running. 

Spinning on your heel you push deeper into the house, away from the party and towards a line of doors down the hall. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, your stomach a bundle of nervous trembling knots, and your hands are so slick with sweat you can barely grab the door handle of the basement. It’s not as easy to run as it looks in the movies, especially not in a tight skirt and penny loafers, and you skid down the basement stairs taking them two at a time until you slip forwards and crash down onto your hands and knees. 

You don’t have time to assess the sudden sharp pain as the skin of your palm drags over the concrete floor though, so you scramble up in a flash and in a panic you weave your way deeper into the basement. 

It’s familiar enough to you, your best friend’s parent’s place. You know there’s a tiny half bathroom in the far back corner, a rarely used guest bed against one wall as you descend the stairs, a collection of old video games and movies, and then around the corner to the left more and more basement, more storage, more dusty nooks and crannies to hide. You’re frozen for a split second, trying to decide the best place to go where he won’t find you, but heavy footfalls on the stairs ring in your ears like drum beats and you don’t have time to weigh your options. 

You take off towards the bathroom, fumbling with the door again when you reach it. 

The masked man behind you doesn’t say anything, but you hear him moving. His feet are sure and quick, the heavy fabric of his robes making a whooshing sound as he darts forwards to try and close the space between your bodies. 

A panicked sound leaves your mouth as you tumble into the sink, clocking your hip hard on the porcelain and bracing yourself on the wall. Turning you reach back for the door, if you just get it latched maybe you can give yourself a second to think, to shimmy out of the very small, high set window. Pushing yourself into action you grab the door, he’s so close you can hear his breath, seconds away. Seconds away. 

The door stops abruptly as you throw your body against it, six inches from closing. You push again, but it doesn’t budge, and when you look down it’s clear you’ve lost this game. His heavy black boot is firmly set in the door’s path, and you know there’s no chance for escape. 

He crowds you instantly, leaving you no time to recover, his body pushing into the cramped space of the bathroom and flinging the door backwards into the adjacent wall. You stumble into the sink and he moves right up against you, the firm length of his body pinning yours in place. 

For a moment everything is still, completely and shudderingly still with only the sound of your hitched breathing and thundering heart filling the room. You’re not sure what you should do - beg? Plead? Stay silent and let him do what he wants? 

The masked man’s head tilts to the side as if he’s observing you, something you can’t tell through the ghostly plastic of his mask and dead black eyes. You’re trembling for real, hands shaking as they grip the cool porcelain. Ghostface leans into you, one of his gloved hands reaching for your face, a soft brush against your chin at first that turns to pressure as his fingers slide up your jaw to push you face to the side. It’s like he’s studying you, his hand slipping lower and dragging down your throat. 

Your breath comes faster, stomach tight. 

Ghostface closes his hand around your throat and your eyes widen. He holds you like this for a moment, his other hand locking down over your waist and gripping you tight, pinning you in place. 

When he squeezes, panic bubbles through your body. 

Yunho’s never choked you before. He’s never even suggested it, despite all your little jokes about how nice his hands would look around your neck. It seemed pretty clear to you that within the bounds of your relationship that was one thing he just wasn’t interested in, but whoever has you in the bathroom knows exactly how to hold your throat and where to press. Part of the fun is not knowing who’s beneath the mask, but your body still locks up, and an anxious voice inside you starts to wonder - what if? It’s not as if Ghostface is that rare of a costume choice, you see dozens of them on the street every year. It’s not inconceivable to think that at this party there would be more than one. 

Your heart beats in fluttering fits and starts in your ribcage as your mind turns over this possibility, and then he squeezes. The fight comes back into you full force when you hear him sigh, his hand tightening even more and cutting off your airway. You wriggle in his arms, pushing against his chest and trying to use your hips for leverage, a startled whine ripping from your throat, but fear laces through your body as you shove against him and realize just how immovable he is. 

Ghostface releases your throat, the same gloved hand slipping into the back of your hair to hold you steady. 

“No!” The word tumbles out of your mouth as soon as you can properly make noise again. 

He crowds you more, masked face dipping by your ear, “Shh, shh,” 

You freeze. 

“Safe word?” Yunho’s voice is a balm in your moment of sudden panic, his tone low and hushed. 

“T-treasure,” You manage it, the realization coming back into your body that this isn’t a total and complete stranger, it’s still him. Your fear starts to melt into anticipation. 

He gives you a squeeze, just one gentle pulse with his hand on your hip to communicate that he’s heard you, “Color?” 

You take a second to assess yourself. This game is intense in a way that you’ve never experienced. Yunho had tried to tell you how your body might react to this kind of manufactured fear, how it would play tricks on you, how even if you knew it was him your body would still have the urge to fight and flee. You knew it, but you didn’t really understand it until this moment. 

Yunho’s gloved thumb drags lovingly over your cheek for just a moment, “Color?” 

If he has to ask you a third time he’ll end the scene, you know he will, but the brief flicker of tenderness in his touch reminds you of everything you already know about him. He has you. You’re safe. This is a game. 

“Green,” You finally answer, “I’m green,” 

One more quick pulse to your hip, he’s heard you again. More than that, he’s pleased with you. 

His shoulders straighten as he draws to his full height, his body filling the space of the tiny bathroom and caging you in. You swallow tightly, audible in your ears and then he moves fast. 

His hands around your waist, lifting you up and then shoving you back until you’re sitting on the lip of the porcelain sink, uncomfortably balanced and pushed back flush to the mirrored wall behind you. You yelp when he moves you, hands scrambling for purchase on something, gripping the sleeve of his black cape in desperation. Fear and anticipation pulse through you, but he doesn’t give you a rest to get your bearings. 

He shoves your legs open wide and slots between your thighs and shoves your face to the side until your cheek is squished against the cold mirror, his hand a controlling brace from your jaw to the crown of your head. 

“You look so pretty running from me,” He strokes your face, but this time it’s not loving, it's possessive, it’s pure control. 

You grip the edge of the sink and whimper. 

“Should we play a little game?” He teases, “It’s Halloween, you must like scary movies,” 

Your breath quickens, “Y-yeah,” 

He drops his voice low, in a mimic of the movie, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

You’ve heard Yunho do that voice before, lazing on the couch last October when you had yourselves a movie marathon, the day he realized something about your favorite scary movie that turned you on, the day you called him out for being hard during a kill scene. It took a year for you both to work up the courage to actually act on any of those fantasies, but here and now with his mask on and his voice low, you feel that mix of terror and arousal bleeding through your body in a way only he can elicit from you. 

You can’t help the little smile that passes over your lips, “Scream,” 

“Meta,” He teases, pinching you hard on the thigh,  “for every question you get wrong, I’m taking something off you,” 

You swallow hard again. 

He reaches into his black robes and then you see it, shining in the reflection of the mirror and in your hazy peripheral vision. The glint of a real knife is unmistakable, the cool sharp edge of the steel crystal clear and you can’t stop the actual fear that jolts through you. You jerk in his hold, instinct driving you for a split second, and he pushes your face harder into the mirror. 

“Tch,” He makes a disappointed noise with his tongue against his teeth, “the game’s no fun if you don’t play.” 

He won’t hurt you, at least not in ways you don’t already like. You have to trust that. 

Settling yourself with a slow breath you summon the act he wants, find the fear within yourself and let it inform your words to give him what he wants. 

“Please, don’t,” You’re trembling is real, that you know. 

He shifts between your legs, drawing the knife closer, shifting it in his hand so he simply presses the cool flat side of the blade against one of your nipples. You hiss at the sensation, tightness building in your gut. 

“First question,” He drags the knife a little over your nipple, “What movie franchise is Jason from?” 

It’s an actual quiz, of course it is. At least he’s starting off easy. 

“Friday the Thirteenth,” You reply fast. 

“Correct,” He lifts the knife, and with the blade pointed away from you, he pushes up your tight tshirt until it’s bunched above your breasts. 

“I got that right,” You glance down at the way he’s touching you, breaking his own rules already. 

“Just getting a better view,” He insists, and then the cool knife is against your nipple again, only the thin fabric of your bralette between skin and steel. 

Your body is aching in this position, but you can feel the heat off his body, and the heady tone of his voice from under the mask still has you starting to ache in different places. 

“Let’s make this a little harder,” He taps the knife against you and you shiver, “what movie has a group of teenagers being stalked on an island by a killer fisherman?” 

“It’s,” You start to answer but he taps the knife again and you jolt, “fuck, it’s I Know What You Did Last Summer,” 

You watched it with him two weeks ago. You remember it, clear as day. 

“Wrong,” The knife twists, the tip gently skating over the swell of your breast. 

“Wait,” You start but he tips the knife under the center of your bra. 

“I Still Know What You Did Last Summer,” He clarifies the sequel, “they weren’t on an island in the first movie. I thought you liked scary movies,” 

“I,” You press back into the wall as the knife edge kisses your skin, “I… I do,” 

“You’re not very good at this,” He twists the knife and drags the sharp edge out so that it severs your thin bra in half, falling open and revealing your breasts to his wandering eyes. 

A little gasping sound leaves your lips, a desperate noise you try to bite back, but he hears it. 

He hums a soft, amused laugh and suddenly the knife is gone, sheathed and away and he leans into your space again, “You fucking like this, don’t you?” 

“No,” You insist, despite the way your stomach is in tight knots. 

“Did running away get you hot?” His gloved hand skims over your exposed body, “Do psycho killers make you wet?” 

“Fuck,” You whine, “no, no,” 

“Liar,” He whispers, and then he delivers a pointed slap to your thigh, “spread.” 

Your legs widen instinctively at his command, but he doesn’t reward you or praise you like he normally would, this is different. He reaches under the hem of your taut mini skirt, finding the apex of your thighs, and his fingers gently rub up and down from the base of your slit to your clit. A tiny gasp bubbles out of your throat. 

“Are you afraid?” He all but growls. 

Your stomach flips and his hand tightens in your hair, “Y-yes,” 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” He finds the edge of your panties and drags them to one side. 

“I don’t want it,” You answer him, body shaking now. 

“Tell me to stop,” One gloved finger presses into your entrance, the softness of the leather and the warmth of his skin beneath it making you tremble. 

“Stop,” You beg, “please, please, stop,” 

“Why would I?” He slowly pushes inside, stretching you around his finger, “When I know how wet being fucked by a stranger in a mask makes you,” 

A tense thready sound pulls from your throat as he adds a second finger. 

“If you don’t want this,” He pulses his hand once, forcing both fingers deep into your slick channel, “why are you panting like a dog in heat?” 

“N-no,” 

“If you don’t want it,” He whispers, “don’t come.” 

Your eyes shut as his hand starts moving, a steady pulse of his gloved fingers inside your aching cunt, curled just right in the way he knows gets you off fast. A pumping drag against your g-spot, the sound of his heavy breath, the unmistakable sensation of your own wetness making a mess between  your thighs. 

“Looks like you want it to me,” He adds the circle of his thumb against your clit and you jerk in his hold. 

“Stop, fuck,” Your nails dig into his forearm. 

“You don’t want me touching you, but you’re soaking my fingers,” 

“N..No, no,” You babble, heat pooling in your gut. 

“Fight it,” He pumps his fingers faster, drumming against your sweet spot, “don’t come,” 

You hiss sharply, pleasure dropping low in your belly, the sensation of his gloves and his hot hand too much to bear. 

“Moaning like you want it,” He laughs, pulling his hand suddenly out from under your skirt and yanking your head back to center. 

You yelp at the position change and the sudden lack of contact but he doesn’t make you wait for long. 

“Open,” He smacks your cheek lightly. 

Your mouth falls open and he shoves both gloved fingers between your lips. You choke against the suddenness, at the way he presses down on your tongue, blinking to clear the haze from your eyes. 

“Suck.” 

You shiver, your lips closing over his digits, the sharp taste of leather mixed with your fluids assaulting your senses and you can’t fight the moan, the way your eyes drift shut as you swirl your tongue. 

He hums, pleased, “Does it hurt?” He asks. 

His question doesn’t make sense, and you blink your eyes back open to look up at the cool passiveness of his ghostly mask. 

“Pretending you’re not a whore?” He clarifies and your mouth stills over his fingers. He pulls them out, delivering one more pointed slap to your cheek, and dives back down to plunge them back into your aching cunt, “Moaning like that, your nipples rock hard, and this pussy,” 

You choke, a bubble building in your core as he abuses your slick channel again. 

“Clenching around my fingers, sucking me in,” He chuckles, “I can feel you, baby,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” 

“Hold back,” He doubles his efforts between your thighs and you keen, “if you don’t want it, tell me to stop, don’t come,” 

“Stop!” You whine, giving him exactly what he wants, “Please, please,” 

“No,” His thumb rubs fast, his hand practiced at making you fall apart at the seams, “you come, you keep your eyes open, and you come all over my fucking hand,” 

Your breath is fast, heart pounding, and you feel the cord tightening in your belly in a way that makes you want to rub yourself back up into his touch but he has you pinned, stuck, at his mercy just like he wants. 

“Come,” His voice is clear, authoritative, and familiar. Like a trained response, your body releases and cracks open into a desperate orgasm, crumbling in his hands as you pitch forward onto his shoulder and grind your hips down to take the last little bit of what you need from his fingers. 

When his hand stills, you realize you’re still clinging to him and you jerk back, one hand over your mouth as you try to recover your breath. 

He steps back, his hands sliding off you and body slotting out from your thighs. You can’t see Yunho beneath the mask, but you know he’s looking. You can feel his hot gaze sliding over your body and taking in every wet and shaking inch of you. Your body is throbbing with need, but the game isn’t done, he hasn’t even made you touch his cock yet, and you know there’s no way you’re making it out of this basement without that. 

“Tell me again how you don’t like it,” He finally says. 

You shiver. 

“Cat got your slutty little tongue?” He prompts you again, voice hardening. 

You swallow hard, finding your words, “I didn’t like it,” 

“Mhm,” 

“I d-don’t want you to touch me,” You lie. 

“Yeah?” He teases, “Well then run,” 

“W-what?” Your eyes flick up to the impassive plastic of his mask. 

“If you didn’t like it, why are you still sitting there?” He takes a step to the side, clearing your path to the door and you slide off the edge of the sink, your loafers making a click onto the tile floor. 

You swallow hard, eyes darting out to the rest of the basement. 

“Come on,” He teases, and you can hear the sick smile in his voice, “try to get away,” 

You look between him and the room ahead of you again.

He leans forward and you shiver, his gaunt stretched mouth at your ear again, “I can’t fuck you if I can’t catch you,” his gloved fingers yank your top down over your exposed breasts and he chuckles, “better run fast.” 

You spring forwards, adrenaline pumping through your body and blood rushing in your ears. Leaping out of the bathroom he gives you a couple steps to get a head start, but he’s so much bigger than you, his stride so much longer, and he closes the distance with ease as you scramble in mock terror to get to the steps. 

Yunho’s arms close around you, hauling you up off your feet and against his chest, his touch rough and probing as he drags you up into the air. 

“No!” You shriek, “Fuck!”

“You think I’d really let you go?” He laughs, “After that?” 

“Fuck you!” The words bubble up out of your mouth. 

“That’s the idea,” His hand slides down your belly, closing over your cunt and cupping you tightly. 

Your body is reacting before your mind, and you jerk in his hold, kicking back your leg and catching him in the shin with the flat heel of your shoe. 

He groans and wrenches you higher in the air, “Keep struggling,” he pants, “I like it,” 

You twist again, trying to free one of your arms, but he has them pinned tightly to your body, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Not a fucking chance,” He takes two wide steps to the mattress and then tosses you down. 

You collapse onto the bed, the old and rarely used springs creaking under your weight, and your scramble forwards in some kind of an attempt to get your bearings, but he’s on you just as fast. He yanks you back with a hand around your ankle and in a flash he’s on top of you. 

He presses one hand firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned face down to the bed, and then his body weight drops down as he straddles the backs of your thighs. Your hands curl into the bedding beneath you, rough sheets and scratchy camp blankets, nothing soft and soothing to take a moment of comfort in. 

His free hand wanders, searching your body slowly. The sound of the party raging upstairs drowns out any competing noise, but you can still hear his heavy breath against the mask and your pounding heart, the sound of anticipation thick in the air around you. 

Yunho presses his hips forwards and you feel the thick hard length of his cock through his costume nestled against your backside. 

“Look at you,” He palms your ass, “shaking for me,” 

A whimper leaves you as his fingers dig into your back. 

“Do I scare you, baby?” He delivers a harsh slap to the back of your thighs and you yelp, “Are you fucking terrified?” 

Another slap leaves you trembling and you hide your face in the mattress, pressing your eyes shut tight. You love when he touches you like this and he knows it. You bite down hard on your lip to keep from whining, wetness pooling in your core. He wanted you scared, he wanted you fighting, you can’t give in just because his glove on your stinging skin feels like sin. 

He groans, his cock pressing down harder to your ass and you feel both his hands slide from your hips up to your back and back down again until he has a grip on your waist. 

A whimper slips out from between your lips.  

Yunho freezes above you, his thumbs massaging a quick circle into your lower back, “Color?” 

“Green!” Your voice is muffled by the bedding but you know he heard it. 

He groans, pulsing his hips to rut his cock against you again. 

Even between layers of fabric, you can feel the heat of him, throbbing and ready for you. Your mouth waters as you picture it, cockhead leaking precum and Yunho’s familiar hand wrapped around the base as he directs it to your mouth. 

“Little slut,” He chuckles and it pulls you straight out of your mental fantasy, “rubbing that ass on a stranger’s cock,” 

Your stomach clenches, and you twitch under him. 

“That’s fucked up,” He drops his body weight over you, one hand pushing your head to the side as he leans over you, “you’re so fucked up, aren’t you?” 

Your breathing is fast, a thready sound in your throat. 

“Aren’t you?” His voice is low, a shade away from a growl, and he rocks his hips again to rub his cock against you. 

“N-no,” You try to shake your head but his hand tightens against your scalp. 

“Liar,” He keeps grinding against you, his free hand snaking underneath your bodies to grope your breast, “I know a needy whore when I see one,” 

You moan into the sheets as he tweaks your nipple, tears springing to your eyes as he palms you, taking you apart with every touch. 

“Let’s see how you like this,” He pinches your nipple once more and you squeal at the sharp sensation that rockets through your chest, a sharp line down to your clit, and then he slides back and shuffles back to sit up over your thighs. 

He pushes the stiff fabric of your mini skirt up over your ass and then you feel the cold metal again. 

You jerk underneath him, and he tuts softly, the sharp edge of the weapon gently dragging over the curve of your ass cheek. 

“Tell me,” He grips your flesh tightly with one hand, painfully pinching, “do you still like scary movies now that you’re in one?” 

You shake your head, a whimper on your lips when the knife slips under the edge of your panties, “P-please, don’t,” 

He yanks the knife up and splits one side of your panties with a taut snap of fabric, “Please?” He taunts, “Please?”

You sob softly in response. 

“Is ‘please’ all you can say?” He delivers a sharp smack to your exposed ass check and you jerk under him. 

“I can’t,” You shake your head into the sheets, “I can’t,” 

He sighs, and you feel the knife shred the other side of your underwear and then you hear the sound of the blade clattering to the floor. With both hands free he palms your exposed flesh, squeezing you almost painfully and inspecting your exposed body. 

Shivers run through you, and you try to hold yourself still for his touches. 

“Which hole should I fuck first, hmm?” His fingers search you, probe you. 

Your body locks up tightly, a gasp on your lips. You hadn’t discussed that, and you shake your head. 

“Scared?” He ghosts his fingers over your rim. 

“Please,” It’s all you can manage. 

“Beg me,” He presses down with his thumb, “beg me not to fuck your ass if you’re so scared.” 

You scramble in the sheets but he has you stuck, “Please don’t, don’t fuck me like t-that, you’re too big, it’s too,” 

He massages one cheek and hums, “What should I do then?” 

“What?” You crane to look back at him, at the masked man pinning you down. 

“Beg,” He says it like he’s bored, like it’s obvious, “beg me to put it somewhere else, or I will fuck this pretty ass open and make you say thank you.” 

Heat floods your belly, your body a sizzling live wire, and you fall right into step with a heady whine, “Please, fuck my pussy,” 

“Again,” 

“Fuck my pussy, please, I’m begging you,” Your voice sounds needy and strange even to your own ears, “I need it inside me, g-give it to me please, fuck my pussy, please,” 

“Better,” His hands disappear into his robed costume and then he pushes forwards, his cock finally free and sliding up and down your slit to find your aching entrance. 

“Y-yes,” You drop your head back down to the bed and in one sharp thrust, he pushes his thick length all the way inside you until his hips are flush with your ass. 

Yunho groans, bracing himself with one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the bed beside you, the mattress creaking with every shift, “Needy pussy,” 

“Fuck,” You moan. 

“Greedy,” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, starting to pick up the pace now in earnest, “gripping my fucking cock like that,” 

All you can do is hold on, bite down on the sheets and let him use you, focus on the sensation of his impossibly hard cock driving in and out and in and out. 

“Are you crying for me? Hmm?” He rolls his hips, the fabric of his costume dragging against you as he fucks into you faster. 

Your eyes are wet, pleasured tears bubbling up and you nod, a tiny sob passing through your lips. 

“Good cocksleeve,” He presses down harder with his hand on your neck, forcing you lower into the mattress. 

Your back arches instinctively, and you whine at the angle change. A few more thrusts and you’ll be done for, you know it. 

“That’s it,” He pants, voice muffled by the mask, “come for me,” 

“C-close,” The words tumble out. 

“Come for me,” He stays steady with his thrusts, pushing your orgasm closer and closer, “come for me, come for me,” 

“Ah!” You fist the sheets, legs starting to shake, “Ah, fuck, fuck!”

“Come on this stranger’s fucking cock,” He grunts, shuddering above you, his fingers digging into your skin and no doubt leaving a bouquet of bruises behind. 

So close to the edge, just a little more will tip you over, and you whine, “Harder,” 

He gasps, forcing his pace to clap harder, deeper, and it only takes two pointed thrusts of his cock into the deepest parts of you to send you careening over the edge. 

“Coming,” You twist beneath him, moaning into your fist, “oh, god,” 

“Fuck,” He curses as your muscles clench and flutter around him, “fuck, oh fuck,” 

Your orgasm has your body locked up and shuddering, but when he pulls free suddenly you gasp into the bedding, “N-no, no, please,” 

He yanks off any scrap of clothing you have on with frantic hands and then rolls you in the sheets so that you’re lying on your back spread open for him. You try to form a sentence, to ask what’s happening but suddenly he’s tearing off his mask and the world slows to a stop. 

Yunho’s sweaty, flushed pink in the cheeks eyes blown wide with need, his plush lips parted and his chest heaving with labored breaths. In a flash he’s stripping off the costume, peeling off his gloves and kicking off his boots. 

“Come here,” He spreads your thighs wider and presses down over you, his cock finding your entrance with ease as he sheaths himself again in one thrust. 

You moan sharply and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he collapses over you. 

“Need you,” He pumps his hips, “have to have you,” 

Pleasure crackles up your body, “Yours,” you nod, “I’m yours,” 

He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hot and hard, “Fuck,” he groans. 

Yunho gathers you closer, your slick bodies now flush together as he rocks into the warm cradle of your hips, “never heard you moan like that,” 

Your walls clench around him. 

“You wanted me to do this,” He groans between messy kisses, “you wanted to run,” 

You nod, lips pressed together. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He pumps into you harder, like he’s desperate to get as deep as possible, “my dirty girl,” 

“Oh, fuck,” Your head falls back against the bed, a pleasured moan caught in your throat. 

“My little fucking slut,” He groans, tipping your hips open wider, his hands tight on your skin, “so desperate to come on stranger cock,” 

You whine sharply, nails digging into his back. 

“Say it,” He threads a hand through your hair and tugs your head back up roughly, “say it,” 

“Yes!” You whine, “Yes, I-I need it,” 

His gaze darkens, the cool mask of your dominant returning, and he slaps your cheek sharply, just enough to give you a pointed sting, “Need what?” 

Your brain is soft, fuzzy with pleasure, but the slap focuses you and you blink, “Need to come,” you pant as he thrusts into you, “on a stranger’s cock, need you to… fuck, need you to take it,” 

He nods, lips parting open in pleasure, “That’s right,” 

Your stomach tightens, pressure dropping low in your belly and you can’t stop feeling the way his cock punches into the deepest parts of you over and over again. Your eyes close tight and you hold onto him, one of your hands slipping up to his neck to tangle into his black hair. 

“Oh,” You’re so close, almost there, “Y-Yunho, oh, god,” 

His hips thrust forward once more, burying his cock impossibly deep and then he stops. That’s when you realize your critical mistake. 

“Is my cock so good you forgot your manners?” He says and your eyes fly open. 

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to recover, your head is too mixed up to know what’s up and what’s down and you’ve never played a scene where he’s a stranger before. You’re used to your rules, you’re used to calling him sir or daddy or master, but now you feel unmoored. 

“Now you don’t get to come,” He leans back, taking your wrists in his hands and pushing them down flat to the bed. 

You know better than to protest, but you’re sure he can feel you shaking. 

He drops closer, pinning you open with the weight of his body, his head nudging yours to the side, “Maybe you’ve forgotten who’s in control here, baby,” 

Liquid heat spreads through your body and you shake your head just a little. 

“So drunk on cock,” He bites at your ear, “you forgot you don’t want this,” 

Your pussy tightens, and you hear him chuckle. 

“Filthy,” He maneuvers your arms above your head so that he can close both your wrists together in one of his large hands, “fucked up little fucktoy,” 

Your eyes roll back and you fight the urge to move your hips, his words enough to put you on the precipice. 

A sharp slap stings over your exposed breast, your nipple hardening even more and Yunho draws his hips back before slamming forwards, driving you deeper into the squeaking mattress. At the painful stretch, the sharp sting inside, you do cry out. 

“Does it hurt?” He thrusts again, just as hard. 

You struggle under him, a little for play and a little because it does hurt, but you love the way he groans when you please him and you can’t stop, “Y-yes,” 

“Too bad,” His hand claps over your mouth and then he starts to fuck you again for real. 

Pleasure and pain in equal parts spike through your body, a perfect combination to get you right up to the edge of orgasm, but you know you’re not allowed. You moan into his hot hand, the sound feral and taut, tears gathering in your eyes and slipping down your temples into your hairline. 

Yunho slides the hand on your wrists up to clasp your hands together palm to palm, still pinning you to the bed but offering you a line of communication you desperately need in a scene like this. He doesn’t stop, but his eyes find yours in the dim light of the basement and he squeezes your hand once. You squeeze back just once, your silent sign to keep going. 

He keeps driving into you, cursing every time you moan and clench around his thick length, the mask of dominance slipping again as he starts to rut into you with artless, needy thrusts. He’s chasing his own pleasure now, with no regard for your own release. 

“No one’s coming to help you,” He groans, “you’re mine,”

 You can’t hear everything he says, not with your mind spinning so close to a forbidden orgasm and his pants and groans punctuating every few words, but you hear it when he says he’s coming inside you. 

Thrusting deep, he spills himself hot in your belly, hips grinding into yours to milk himself dry as he moans into your ear. The bubble of your own pleasure builds with every rock of his body and you whimper into his hand, tears spilling over as you try not to let it take you. 

Yunho’s hand pulls away from your mouth and suddenly his fingers are rubbing fast and firm on your swollen clit, his cock still buried deep. 

“Ah, n-no, please,” You grip his hand tightly and lock your eyes closed, trying to pull yourself back from the edge, “please,” 

“Fuck,” He groans, overstimulated. 

You’re going to come, there’s no way to hold back if he’s going to torture you like this and you thrash under him, “I can’t,” you’re sobbing in earnest now, “I can’t hold it,” 

“Shit,” He curses sharply, “come, sweetheart, come, I’m so sorry,” 

At his permission, your pleasure rips through you, a hot slice of rapture rocketing up your body. Your ears are ringing, black dots over your vision, and your body wrenches up with tight shakes in a way that only a soul shattering orgasm could do. You vaguely hear your own voice, a babbled string of ‘thank-yous’ and sobs, but it feels like someone else. All you know is warmth, and the deliciousness of earned pleasure. 

When consciousness starts to creep back in, the first thing you feel is Yunho’s gentle hands on your cheeks. He’s murmuring something, but it takes your mind a second to process, and you blink your eyes open slowly to find his face. 

“Hey,” He’s back to soft and warm, your tender lover, “oh, there you are,” 

“Mm,” You manage. 

He looks you over slowly, warm brown eyes flicking over your skin, “Does anything hurt, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head, still boneless and trembling in the scratchy blankets. 

“Hmm?” He nudges you, pushing for a verbal response. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, but your voice is small. 

Yunho, so attuned to you, looks back up and shifts up the bed to meet your eyes, “Feeling floaty?” 

“Mm,” You nod, recognizing distantly that the intensity of your play tonight pushed you right into subspace. 

“Ah,” He smiles warmly, “come here,” 

He gathers you close, arms wrapping around you as he tucks you into his chest and pulls the plaid camp blanket up higher over both of your naked bodies. His skin feels so essential, a necessity like eating or breathing, and you nuzzle into his warm chest. 

“You’re okay,” He soothes you, stroking your back, “you’re safe, you’re safe with me,” 

A heavy breath releases from your chest. 

“That’s it,” He kisses your forehead, “breathe with me, relax with me,” 

Your muscles release one by one. 

“That was just a fantasy,” He soothes you, easing the knotted up feelings in your body with practiced words, “it was just pretend,” 

You nod. 

“Just pretend,” He murmurs, lips tender against your forehead, “none of that was real, nothing I said. I love you, and I will always keep you safe, sweetheart,” 

Your fingers relax, and you realize how firmly you were gripping his arms. 

“There you go,” He murmurs, “I’ve got you,” 

“Yunho?” You manage, your body feeling heavy once again as you start to center. 

He shifts, cupping your cheek as he leans back to get a good look at you, “Right here,” 

“H-hey,” You give him a lazy smile. 

He nods, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “Tell me where you are?” 

“Basement at the party,” You answer. 

“Good,” He nods, “now tell me who you’re with?” 

“You, Yunho,” You reply, practiced now at the routine he uses to help ground you out of the scene and bring you back into reality. 

“Good,” He continues, “tell me three things you can see,” 

You glance around the room, “Old playstation, bicycle,” you look back to him, “your necklace,” 

He smiles as you touch the silver chain around his neck, “Good,” 

You stretch your stiff limbs in his arms and try to snuggle back into his hold but he’s not done yet, especially after a scene that new and that intense. 

“Any pain?” His hands slide over your body. 

“No,” You assure him, “a little sore, but I feel good,” 

He nods, but keeps looking you over anyway. When he turns your hands in his and finds your scratched palms a little line forms between his brows, “What’s this?” 

You look down at the red skin, a few shallow cuts here and there, “I fell,” 

“Fell?” His brow goes high with alarm, “when?” 

“When I was running, I took the stairs too fast,” You tell him honestly, “but it doesn’t hurt, I promise,” 

His fingers trace over the broken skin and he nods, “You promised you’d call the scene if you got hurt,” 

For how rough this man can be with you, for how many times he’s bruised you and made you bleed, he never fails to surprise you at just how tender and soft he is outside of the bedroom. 

“Baby,” You close your fingers over his, “you promised you’d trust me to know my own limits, I’m not hurt, I got a little scrape,” 

His lips close as he considers your words and then he nods, leaning in to kiss each of your palms warmly, “I want to disinfect these at home,” 

“Okay,” You murmur. 

“Anywhere else?” 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head. 

“But sore?” He confirms.

“A bit,” 

His fingers find your jaw, massaging the muscle there, “When we get home, we’ll run a warm bath. I’ll take care of all your aches, I know I was rough with you,” 

You sigh pleasantly, relaxing into the warmth of his hand and he nods, dipping his face towards yours and capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. 

“You did so perfect for me, sweetheart,” he says softly, voice threaded with emotion, “I’m so… is it too lame to say honored? I… you were so amazing, and you trusted me like that and I,” 

“Yunho,” You smooth back his hair and pull him closer, “I’m alright,” 

His eyes flick over your face, “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” You give him the clarity he needs to know he didn’t hurt you, “you made me feel very safe, even though I was kind of terrified,” 

He stays quiet, like he’s gauging the honesty of your words. 

“Even when I was scared,” You lean in, kissing him quickly, “I knew you wouldn’t take it too far, and you checked in with me. I’m okay, I liked it, I love you,” 

“You didn’t push yourself too hard for me?” He always worries about that, the double edged sword of a submissive who’s desperate to please. 

“No,” You smooth your hand over his cheek, “I liked it alot,”

He nods and snuggles you closer, his fingertips coasting up and down your back softly. He’s quiet for a few minutes, just letting you both come down as easy as you can with thrumming house music upstairs. 

“You liked it?” He finally confirms, carding his fingers through your hair. 

You nod, “A lot,” 

“What I said,” He kisses the top of your head, “during, about you liking it, that was fantasy too, you know that right?” 

You’re quiet, taking in his words. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He continues softly, “there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting it, all of that was pretend, okay?” 

“I know,” You kiss his chest, nodding against his shoulder. 

“I love you,” He squeezes you, “you know that too, right?” 

You smile, wiggling up in his arms to see his face, “I do,” you kiss him softly, “I love you too,” 

He nods and sighs, “I lost my head a little at the end there,” he admits, “I didn’t communicate well when you needed it, I’m sorry about that.” 

Your brows knit together in confusion. 

“I should have given you permission sooner,” He explains, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “I forgot myself in the scene, I didn’t mean to push you so hard.” 

“Oh,” You smile, “Yunho, I’m alright,” 

“I know you are,” He dips in for a kiss, “but I’m still sorry,” 

“Thank you,” You murmur, pressing your lips back to his, staying warm and still and soft in this moment together, “I know you’ll always take care of me,” 

He nods, his broad hand brushing down your hair. 

“How was the party?” You nudge him a little. 

He smiles, “Fine,” he shrugs, “I was too focused on looking for you, I think everyone thinks something’s up with me.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” You laugh. 

“Mm,” He nods, “and now I disappeared and we made a mess of this basement,” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you cut my underwear off, how am I supposed to get out of here,” 

“I brought backups,” He grins wide, proud of himself for thinking that far ahead. 

“You’re a genius,” 

“There is a back door out of the basement though, right?” He looks up around the room trying to find one. 

“Yeah,” You reach out, pointing around the back corner, “why?” 

“It’s extremely obvious that you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life,” He presses a quick kiss on your forehead and stretches next to you, so casual about the way he just rearranged your insides, “and I’m not so sure you’re going to walk straight,”

You laugh sharply and shake your head, “Take me home,” 

“Scary movies on the couch?” He squeezes your thigh as he rolls away, searching for his clothes. 

You shiver, “Maybe, that might be too close to home,” 

Nudging your knee he smiles, “Don’t worry, baby, it’s just a movie.”

[catdia]

Sevika with a Chubby S/o

Sevika loves bigger women, something about round tummies and thick thighs makes her go wild

calls you her peach because your nice and juicy

runs her fingers along your stretch marks, grabbing fistfuls of your flesh

chronic ass slapper and biter

uses your belly as leverage to fuck into you with her strap

constantly tells you that she wants to get you pregnant if she could

that you’ll make a great mama for her children

Sevika is much leaner and muscular, so whenever you get the chance you trace her abs with your finger tips

amazed by her raw powerful body you get an excuse to make her move furniture or heavy boxes

Silco adores you, so does Jinx. he asks Sevika how are you doing and genuinely cares about you (especially when you brought cookies for his daughter). because he has seen first hand what your relationship does to Sevika

got into a pretty nasty fight? Sevika punches his goons half to death. and looks even scarier than ever before

you patched up Sevika’s poncho after it got snagged on a broken window? he could almost see a sliver of a blush on her cheeks

his right hand woman has no idea the effect you have on her does she?

Sevika even toned down drinking and smoking

“my lady chews my ear off if I smell too much like a drive bar.”

you call her beautiful as you kiss her countless scars and rub the shoulder of her mechanical arm

“i’m everything but beautiful, doll.”

something primal takes over her as she sees how different your bodies are. you so soft and plush, her’s hard and brutal.

treats you like an absolute princess. buys you what ever you want. gives you what ever you want.

you are the one that cuts and styles her hair. she even asked you to shave her bald once and you had a heart attack.

Sevika plays dirty in card games. for every round she wins you take off a piece of clothing. one time she left you completely bare and you were pissed because you saw her cheat more than once.

ate your fat pussy out as a form of sorry

when she tells you to sit on her face, you SIT on her face

no “I’m too heavy” bullshit. if she couldn’t handle a little weight on her then she wouldn’t have the privilege of calling you her woman

and have you seen her?! Sevika is a tank. she can certainly handle herself (and you) more than anything

sleeps nude, with her chest pressed against your back and always a hand on your lower tummy

walks around the apartment shirtless all the time. flexes her arm when she catches you staring

uses your arm fat as a stress ball. It “makes her think better”. her words not mine

you patch her up after rough deals, crying and yelling at her for being too reckless. so selfish

Sevika kisses you. nose running down your neck, smelling your sweetness. she hates seeing you in pain. especially if it was caused by her

“i don’t like it when you cry.”

[rafesangelita]

hii!! congrats on your 5k followers, I'm glad glad. 💖💖

cann I haveeeeee 🍩?? (frat!rafe with daddy kink??) 🙈🙈 i wish you the best!!

warnings: shy!reader, kinda mean!rafe, daddy kink, brief mention of phone sex/sexting, unprotected sex, semi public sex (at a party), slight choking, slight praise, dirty talk, creampie, hint of impregnation kink at the end

a/n: frat!rafe has a special place in my heart i’m afraid.. you guys have been sending me AMAZING req’s for my 5k celebration, i genuinely can’t wait to answer as many as i can <3

“come on, baby, call me what you called me in those text messages.” rafe teased you, his cock prodding at your entrance. if someone told you that sexting with a frat president would land you in his bed with his friends right outside the door, you wouldn’t believe them. “i can’t..” you whimpered, your eyes heavy with tears as he wrapped a hand around your throat. “yes, you can.” rafe studied your face. you looked so pretty underneath him. “what, are you shy now? you weren’t so shy when you sent me pictures of those perfect tits.” he laughed.

your skin flushed at the memory. you had never provocatively pointed a camera at yourself, let alone posed and sent a photo, but rafe’s words and desperation to see you naked had made you crumble. “please! ‘just want you inside me..” you reached up, pressing a hand against his toned chest. “not until you say it.” he shook his head, squeezing the sides of your neck softly. swallowing thickly, you gazed up at him. “who’s your fuckin’ daddy?” your eyebrows knitted together as rafe leaned down, his lips ghosting over your own. “you are- oh!” you gasped when he thrusted into you without warning.

“i’m your what?” he feigned confusion, taking your thigh and wrapping it around his waist. he felt so good, your walls stretching deliciously around his length. “you’re my daddy!” you practically screamed when his thumb found your clit, his lips latching onto the sensitive spot on your neck. rafe couldn’t explain it, but hearing you call him that made something primal awake within him. suddenly he wanted to fuck you dumb, and make you a whining mess. “you’re so fucking perfect, holy shit.” he rolled his hips into yours, your back arching off of his bed at the pleasure.

the lewd sounds of your soaked cunt, paired with the heavy breathing from the man above you, did nothing to conceal the music coming from downstairs where a party was in full swing. you clung onto him the closer you got to your peak, your eyes fluttering shut as he whispered filthy obscenities in your ear. “acting like a shy girl, but really you just want to be fucked like the filthy slut you are, huh?” you cried out, his advances on your sensitive bundle of nerves sending you over the edge, your thighs trembling as you covered your mouth. rafe looked offended as you tried to keep yourself quiet.

“fuck that, let me hear you.” he took the palm you had pressed against your lips and pinned it to your side. rafe leaned down, trailing kisses down your jaw as you let out the pettiest noises he’s ever heard. you shook against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck while he spilled inside of you, his own high hitting him with an unforgivable force. he cursed against your skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips while he eased his movements to a smooth stop. you were still teary eyed and going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pulled out, watching gloriously as his seed spilled out of you.

“i should do this to you every night.. ‘make you really give me that ‘daddy’ title.” he smiled wickedly, wrapping both of you in his sheets as he comforted you, stroking your cheek and running his fingers through your hair until you fell asleep in his arms.

[codtrashsammy]

This is... love? (Simon Riley x Reader)

- SMUT SMUT SMUT - MDNI MDNI MDNI -

First time writing smut in a loooong time, so bare with me. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope you like it tho!

Simon Riley can fuck. But what about the first time you make love? Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You

Warnings: crying during sex (not the bad kind tho, promise), explicit sex, p in v, praise (heavy heavy like on god), gentle love making <3 bc our boy can fuck, but what about other stuff too?!

Of course, you’ve fucked. Simon has been your boyfriend for 3 years now, you’re definitely comfortable to explore that part of your relationship now.

Simon has had you bent over every piece of furniture in your flat, has had you in every bed in your house, in the shower, on the floor, a couple of times on the balcony even. He’s had you pinned to walls in sketchy bar bathrooms, he’s had you in the back of his nice looking truck, the bed of that same truck- fuckin’ everywhere. That’s all it’s been, it’s been fucking. Rough, fast- always fucking godly, of course, but it’s primal. Animalistic, and you love it- you truly do love it. But this time you want to do things different. You want to slow it down, you want to fucking relish in the man you’re lucky to call your own. You don’t want to fuck, you want to make love to him. Simon has always been… not exactly averse to your softer affections, as he’s always a very willing participant, but you sometimes notice he seems… overwhelmed. Like he can’t quite handle the raw, genuine emotion behind a soft, tender, lingering touch. His cheeks heat up, he gets this certain look in his eyes, and while he’s never been mean about it- he backs away from it. He shies away from it. 

You’ve tried talking to him about it- you’ve tried many, many times to bring it up to him. And yet the bastard always has a way to switch up the conversation, to change things around, to slip past the topic so easily- he can spin straw into gold with that mouth of his.

So, you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands.

You’re laying in bed, cuddled right up to him, your leg thrown over his hips and an arm thrown over his chest while you lay on your side, your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm. Simon’s hand idly plays with the ends of your hair, his arm wrapped around you, simply holding you to him as if to make sure you don’t slip away. 

Simon is seemingly lost in thought, eyes closed and body more or less relaxed- as relaxed as Simon can be when the man is always seemingly on alert to every little sound. 

“Hey, Si,” You murmur out, your fingers idly tracing random shapes against the fabric of his shirt. He hums to let you know he’s heard you, but otherwise doesn’t really react. Fuck, you love this man. You love every inch of him, everything about him. You even love that he always leaves the toilet seat up (you swear he does it out of spite) because you know you’d miss it if he wasn’t around to keep doing it.

“Can I try something?” You ask, tone soft and relaxed, casual. Not at all portraying the thoughts in your head, your secret little ‘mastermind’ plan. 

“Tha’s quite vague, ain’t it, love?” Simon grumbles out, voice low as if to match the atmosphere of simple peace and quiet. “Hmm…” You trail off, a playful smile growing on your face- not that he’s looking to see it, “I think it’s pretty simple. Either yes or no.” You quip with a nod, moving to lean up, resting your weight on your elbows so you can look down at him with a soft, gentle smile. And of course at feeling you move, his arm moves from around your shoulders to around your waist- always touching you, never wanting you far when he’s finally home. (You don’t realize home is you- but of course he’s never quite told you that). Simon’s eyes open at your movement, too. Pretty brown eyes, half lidded in his more-or-less relaxed state as he looks up to meet your gaze, his gaze soft in the way it only ever is for you- his mask resting along the nightstand by the bed. There if he needs it- but it’s rarely needed with you around. A warm light, easily able to lighten up even the darkest depths of his mind to keep his demons at bay.

“....yes?” Simon offers after a few moments of contemplation, a curious look in his own eyes as they scan over your face- looking for a hint of what possible fuckery you could be up to at this point. Your soft smile stretches out into a soft grin as you lean down, pressing your lips to Simon's and letting your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands come up, tracing softly up his chest, up his throat, along his jaw before settling to cup his cheek.

You can feel his breath hitch the slightest bit at the soft touch, the lingering touch. This is the kind of kiss that usually overwhelms him, but maybe he’s in a good mood tonight. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek while your tongues intertwine, and you can feel the moment Simon tries to speed it up.

You pull away, eyes still closed, your lips brushing against his as you speak, “No, no,”

And you promptly place your lips back against his own, not giving him time to start spitting his bullshit about how he’s going to make you see stars if you don’t stop teasing him- because that’s not the goal here. 

You shift your body, moving to straddle Simon's hips (a feat in its own right), keeping one hand cupping his cheek while the other moves to the hem of his shirt, slowly running over the skin above the waistband of his pajama pants, before delving under the fabric and feeling the softness of his tummy, touch so soft and gentle, so loving against his body.

Simon doesn’t know what to think, his own hands seeming to hesitate before they come to rest along your thighs, squeezing the fat there a bit roughly- but that’s okay, you can teach him. 

“Love your hands, Si,” You murmur as you finally pull away from the kiss, only to trail kisses down his jawline, slow and soft, occasionally nipping at the skin.

Simon let's out a grunt, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs before moving to cup your ass, pushing your body to force your clothed cunt to grind against his already hard cock, and a breathy moan leaves your lips from the stimulation- but damn it, you’re doing this your way this time.

“I’ll stop,” You warn, voice still soft, but there's… an edge to it for once, one stating that you really will.

A soft groan leaves Simon's lips, along with a scoff at the absolute audacity of you, “Love,” Simon says, in warning more than anything. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” You’re quick to say, before leaning back to meet his pretty, brown-eyed gaze, your hands moving to lift his shirt which he eagerly enough helps with, throwing the fabric away and down to the floor like it was the very thing that killed his family.

…a bit much, but you can understand his eagerness.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” You murmur out, eyes filled with nothing but adoration as you trail your hands across the familiar expanse of his chest, fingers running through his chest hair, thumbs brushing over his nipples before trailing down his sides. Your palms run over the subtle softness of his belly, where you know there is muscle hidden underneath.

A hiss leaves Simon's lips, and you can feel his cock twitch from where you’re perched in his lap. “Bloody ‘ell, love, the fuck ya doin?” Simon mutters, hands moving to grab your hips.

“Jus’ be good for me, yeah?” You murmur out, a soft, adoring smile on your face as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

The sight alone is enough to make you pause slightly. He’s not like this when you’re fucking- and you don’t even have his dick in you yet! His cheeks are flushed, not from exertion, he’s just flustered, his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched together with pretty glossy eyes. Almost like he could cry- but not quite. 

“You’re always so good for me, Si,” You murmur, grinding your hips against his own and letting out another breathy moan at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip of your hips in response. Just one look and you can tell he’s overwhelmed already- or at the very least getting there. But he hasn’t once told you to stop- he’s simply tried speeding you up, which you have no interest in. Not this time.

You grab his hands, kissing each of his knuckles before slowly dragging them underneath your own shirt, placing his palms against your breasts, his thumbs already swiping at your nipples, at the already peaked buds there. “Always takin’ such good care of me, my love,” You praise, and you reward him with another slow grind, beginning to set such a slow, but lovely pace, just enough friction to make you want more- but that’s the goal. A slow build, no rush, no desperation, just… slow. Loving. Gentle. Tender. Simon visibly gulps, his hands squeezing the flesh of your tits with a groan before he’s tugging your shirt off and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He tries to buck his hips, tries to get your movements to speed up- but you simply lift up, ending the contact altogether, and send him a pointed look.

“Do ya not want me to fuck ya, love? What’s all this then?” Simon says with a huff, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet your own. Anyone else would say he’s frustrated- and yeah, partly he is. But you know your Simon, you can see that glossiness to his eyes, can see the slightest twitch of his brow- he’s overwhelmed- he’s not sure how to handle this, the softness, the gentleness. Simon likes to say he can’t be soft, can’t be gentle, can’t be loving. But it’s been 3 years with this man- you know he can. He just needs to be taught- it’s simply something he’s never had before, it’s not like he was born with the knowledge. “No,” You answer with a pleased, breathy sigh, resting your hips back against his own and beginning that slow grind once more, feeling his cock twitch at the action. “Don’t wanna fuck, Si. Jus’ be good for me, baby. Jus’ sit here, look pretty for me. Always so good for me. Jus’ let me love you, sweet boy,” You murmur out, eyes meeting his own and holding their gaze.

You trail your hands down his arms along his shoulders and collar bones, quite literally loving every inch of his skin.

Simon’s cheeks get hotter, the look he gives you is entirely overwhelmed, spooked even. Like the thought of being loved is absolutely horrifying alone.

“Be good? Kinda kinky, innit?” Simon mumbles out in response, looking at you with a quirked brow.

But you don’t stop. And he doesn’t stop you.

Clothes continue to fly off, positions change, but somehow you manage to remain in full control for once. And he lets you. Sure, you have to correct him at times, have to remind him to slow down, all with soft smiles and gentle praise- and he eats it up like a starving hound.

Even now, as moans and breathy praise leaves your lips, Simon being vocal, a rarity on it’s own, at least to this extent.

“Feel s’ good around me, love, fuck, so good,” He fucking babbles, his cock dragging along the walls of your drooling cunt at a slow, but steady pace. You’re underneath him now- stereotypical missionary- but it’s divine.

You pull Simon’s head down, pressing his forehead against your own, your legs wrapped loosely around his hips as his cock drags deliciously over all those sweet spots inside, the soft mound above his cock pressing against your clit with every. Single. Thrust.

It’s a slow build up, so slow, and while he focuses on clenching his fists into the sheets above your head, resting on his elbows on either side of it, you focus on touching him, praising him.

“Always so good to me, baby,” You practically purr the words.

“I love you so much, Si, so much,” You say, breathless as your back arches, forehead pressed to his and eyes closed in bliss of the slow building pleasure.

“Like you were made jus’ for me, sweet boy,” Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them tangling in his hair.

“Love how you make me feel, Simon,” You moan out, legs tightening their grip around his hips.

If your eyes weren’t closed, you’d see how Simon is looking at you right now. Simon is looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess… but the vision is blurry, from the pure overwhelming, unshed tears in his eyes. God, he’s pathetic, isn’t he? Crying? During sex? But he can’t even entertain the thought- thoughtful praise continuing to spill from your lips as he continues his slow, languid, deep thrusts. 

He focuses on the feeling, on the way your words are soothing parts of him he didn’t care to recognize were broken, he focuses on the way your hands trail across his skin so fucking lovingly- as if he’s actually worth something. As if he’s someone and not a monster. As if he doesn’t have hundreds of lives taken by the very hands you praise for touching you.

No- no, none of that matters right now, as for the first time in his fucking life Simon Riley doesn’t fuck- he makes love. 

“God- g-gonna make me cum, Simon- fuck- love the way you make me cum-” You whimper out, back arching into him and fuck, Simon can’t take it anymore.

Simon doesn’t know what to think. Sure, the pleasure is mind-numbing, your pussy always feels so fucking good when it’s wrapped around his cock like this, but it’s damn near tripled by the pure feelings you’re forcing him to feel. The way his chest burns, but it’s so good- he can fucking feel the love you have for him, the way you hold him in your heart, the way you think of him as though he put the very stars in the sky for you and you alone. And he would- fuck he absolutely would. He’d give you the world should you ask for it- fuck he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

He doesn’t speed up- he wants the slower build up, too, doesn’t want to rush it, but he’s going to shatter if more praise leaves your lips so he presses down, slotting his mouth against your own, a minor distraction really.

You can feel the wetness to his cheeks.

You know it’s not sweat.

Your hands move to cup his cheeks so softly, so lovingly, so gently. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure builds until that band finally fucking snaps, and you’re on cloud nine.

Simon buries his head in the crook of your neck, his hot, thick cum shooting ropes into you as your cunt squeezes his cock like a vice, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

You’re both panting, but Simon's head stays hidden- you know why, you can feel the tears against your neck, but you don’t say anything.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you come down from your high, nuzzling your cheek against the top of his head.

“Love you so much,” You whisper out, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless.

You can feel Simon place the softest kiss to your neck, arms squeezing you almost too tightly, but you don’t say anything. 

You know your Simon. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killing machine. He’s a man- your man. Simon’s not unlovable, he’s not broken. He’s not stupid for simply not knowing. He’s not stupid for simply needing to be taught.

And you love him. Gods, do you love him. You’ll teach him. You’ll teach him it’s okay, he’s safe here, in your arms. He’s safe to love, to cry, to breakdown, he’s safe to get the very things he’s never had- and you’ll give them willingly.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. His now soft cock still buried in your cunt, his tears have subsided awhile ago, but he’s still unwilling to move from his spot- not that you’re complaining. 

It’s so quiet you barely even hear it, but fuck, you’re so glad you did.

“Love ya,” Simon mumbles against your skin, his voice so quiet, hoarse and rough. But so very soft, so very gentle. Yeah. Simon Riley can fuck like a god. But Simon Riley is learning how to love you fully, how to make love to you fully- and he wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would you.

[pseudowho]

Cunt-Drunk

18+, MDNI, just a filthy little drabble...

For @delirious-donna , my Higuruma brainrot muse

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi didn't often go out with his colleagues. But one week, duty called, and he was obliged to attend karaoke and drinks with his firm's new clients. He was going to be out for hours. It was a Saturday night, and you were off too, and he was absolutely incensed because--

"They said no spouses allowed! Can you believe it?" Hiromi ranted, clattering around the kitchen in a strop, shoving scattered files into his briefcase, "It's almost like they think I'd spend the whole evening talking to you, and squeezing your thighs under the table, and--"

"--well let's be honest, Hiromi, you would--"

"--and who could blame me, really--"

"---Hiromi it's just one night, I won't be doing anything interesting anyway, just go, and have fun, and send me videos of you doing karaoke--"

Hiromi scoffed, clipping his briefcase shut, "I do not do Karaoke."

He stood staring down at you, straight, and tall, and serious for a moment. You bit your lip, barely hiding a smirk. Hiromi slumped dramatically, his face crumpling into a look of abject despair. He cupped his hands around his mouth and nose, head tipped back.

"...do I have to?" He whined. You did not answer. You simply sidled up to him, straightened his tie, and pulled him down by it, pressing a kiss of promise to his lips, so prophetic that he moaned into you.

You whispered against Hiromi's lips; "Off you go, my brave soldier. Have a drink or six for me."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You worked your way through the usual bottle of Shiraz that you and Hiromi shared on a Saturday night, but, without him there, being drunk just felt sad. You took yourself to bed, in just one of his shirts fished out of the laundry, and fell asleep in the thunk way that only drunk women do.

You woke in the small hours of the morning with a jolt, feeling yourself dragged down the bed by two strong arms looped around your thighs. You squeaked, reaching down and tangling your fingers in a familiar shock of grey-streaked black hair.

"I-- Hiromi--" you started, mumbling and half-asleep. You heard a giggle from between your legs.

"Shhhh," Hiromi slurred, and giggled again. You heard a p-tuu, and felt a glob of warmth, slippery-wet, dripping down your labia. With little warning, Hiromi lathered his tongue between your folds, and you cried out, your body still sizzling with the wine.

"...missed you," Hiromi whined, nuzzling between your puffy folds, "...wanted...to see you...our S'day night...ruined...s'boring without you..."

"--Hiromi--" you panted, dazed and disoriented, "--just come to bed--"

"Shhhhhh," he whispered again, loudly, "m'fine...right here...pull m'hair...jus' hold onto somethin'..."

Hiromi ate your pussy without remorse, without restraint, as drunk as could be, and fucking the bed in his sloppy, rumpled suit. Hiromi moaned, pornographic and dirty, every time he fucked his twitching, aching length against the sheets.

Still suckling your clit between his lips, Hiromi reached down to hook his cock up to press against his belly, his cockhead frictioned deliciously between his black happy trail and waistband.

You had never been eaten out in a way that was so primal, with Hiromi fucking his tongue into your heat, massaging the area around your clit with his liquor-soaked lips, and rolling his tongue over the hard little pearl of your clit until you almost blacked out, your nerves stripped bare by the shock and wine.

Hiromi was rough, looping his arms over your thighs and dragging you back to his mouth every time you mewled and tried to crawl away from him. He'd respond with a sharp nip to the inside of your thigh, and an admonishing look, before rubbing his face savagely from side to side over your sopping cunt and clit, growling into the wet mess he'd made of you.

As you squirmed and yanked the roots of his hair, clamping your thighs around his head, Hiromi mumbled into your pussy, focusing his tongue and lips on your clit before abruptly sliding three bunched, long fingers into your hole, fucking you hard and fast with them until he felt your silky sweet spot.

Hiromi fucked the bed in time, imagining in his drunken stupor, that the wet squelches and frantic cries from you, were from his cock slamming in and out of you instead.

"--c'mon baby...in m'mouf, cum in m'mouf...good girl, so good, s'good...gonna cum...m'gonna cum...fuuuuckkk, shit--"

Dragging you with biting, sucking, growling urgency through your orgasm, Hiromi came in tandem; his ruts into the mattress, and his pitched, desperate moans became slower, and softer, as his seed poured out under his shirt, soaking the white fabric, sticky and cloying against his twitching belly.

His fingers still inside you, his nose and mouth still between your folds, face-down on the bed as you came down from your absolutely feral high...you heard a snore.

Rising on shaking elbows, you looked down the bed. Cum-soaked, drunk, and sticky with your arousal, Hiromi snored soft, drunk snores into your pussy.

In the morning, you showed him the photo you took of him, this way, before watching the video Hiromi's colleague sent you of him singing old rock songs while the whole karaoke bar cheered him on.

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au

tags: degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, true form sukuna notes: minors dni, one sequel to "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴" - you decided to not text your boss Sukuna wc: 1.3k

Sukuna was fuming with rage as he sat at his work desk, eyes glued on his door waiting for you to finally come in. He gave you his private number, a number no one got (since he mainly fucked women at work anyway) and you didn’t call him? Not even bother to sent a message? Did you even save his number? Sukuna's rage was a tempest, a storm swirling within him, threatening to burst forth and consume everything in its path. His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned bone-white, his jaw tensed, muscles coiling like springs ready to snap. Each breath he took felt like fire searing his lungs, fueling the inferno of his fury.

It wasn't just anger; it was a primal force, raw and unbridled. How could you crawl over to him like a slut and then just ghost him. After he left the bar he couldn’t even get his cock soft – it waited to be buried deep inside your cunt. Suddenly (and finally) his door opened and you walked into the room, your eyes staring at the floor.

“Good morning, sir”, you greeted him sheepishly.

“Lock the fucking door and come over here, now.”

Your boss didn’t even bother to hide his anger and you were smart enough not to question his mood. Without a word you walked over to his desk. His red eyes were burning holes into your skin.

“Why didn’t you text me? I told you to do that”, Sukuna stood up, his fingers tapping on his wooden desk as he moved closer to you.

“I don’t think that would have been appropriate, sir.”

As the words hit his ears, a surge of anger coursed through Sukuna's veins like a bolt of lightning. The sentence struck him with the force of a physical blow. His jaw clenched so tight it felt as though his teeth might shatter under the pressure. A torrent of emotions roiled within him, a turbulent sea of indignation and frustration threatening to engulf him entirely. How could you dare utter such words, he seethed inwardly, feeling his temper flare hotter with each passing moment. Every fiber of his being screamed for retribution, for a release of the pent-up rage festering within him. Yet, beneath the anger, there simmered a sense of hurt, a wounded pride that stoked the flames of his fury even higher.

“Inappropriate, huh?” Sukuna's heart pounded with an adrenaline-fueled rhythm as he pressed you against his workdesk, his palm firmly planted beside you, caging you in. The suddenness of his action caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise before a flicker of excitement danced within you. His gaze bore into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, a silent declaration of desire. The scent of your perfume filled his senses, intoxicating him further as he leaned in.

“You know what’s inappropriate? All the times you went on break just to rub your little pussy after I praised you. The way you press your legs together in an attempt to not cum all over the place after I yell at colleagues who fuck up their work. You think I’m dumb, little one?”

Sukuna's lips grazed your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. The faintest touch of his lips against your skin ignited a fire within you, a wave of sensation coursing through your body like electricity. His kisses were rough and urgent, each one leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His grip tightened on your arm, a rough urgency in his movements as he spun you around, your back now pressed firmly against Sukuna’s chest. The suddenness of his action caused your breath to catch in your throat, your heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. His touch was possessive yet intoxicating, sending a jolt of desire coursing through your veins. With your back against him, you could feel the heat of his body, the strength of his embrace and his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“You need to be punished, baby, Was waiting for you the night to text me”, he whispered into your ears before taking a step back, “Bend over the desk, slut.”

As you leaned over your boss's desk, the air seemed to crackle with tension. Your movements were graceful, yet purposeful, the lines of your silhouette casting a spell of allure. With each subtle shift, the fabric of your blouse hugged your curves, your skirt rocking up, teasingly revealing hints of the allure beneath. Sukuna, momentarily captivated by the sight before him, struggled to maintain his composure and not just fuck you right there and then.

“You’ve been a bad girl”, all of sudden, without any kind of warning, his hand smacked down on your ass, earning a small squeal, “You a little cocktease, huh? Knew damn well how fucking soaked you got after our simple kiss and then you decided to not text me after?”

“I-I’m sorry, sir”, he whimpered as another blow hit your ass. Sukuna pulled your skirt down to the ground, exposing your behind. Now it would start to hurt.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, baby. I wanted to fill you up real good last night. I would have come over just to let you bounce on my cock. Beg for forgiveness, slut.”  And once again he smacked your ass.

“I’m sorry” Another blow. “Pl-please…Please forgive me, Mr. Sukuna.” Another blow. Your ass was turning red at this point. “I’m begging you pl–please…ahh.” That moan was everything Sukuna needed to hear – so needy and eager, he imagined you would love for him to manhandle you like this. Such a dirty whore.

You were a begging, trembling mess before him and he loved every inch of the view. Grinning he reached his hand out, his finger grazing over your thong covered slit. “Soaked through your panties already, baby? That’s all it got? Some dirty talk and spanking? Want daddy to help you out?”

Self-respect? Professionalism? Everything left your body as soon as he called himself daddy. “Yes, please help me out, daddy.”

“Now you’re a good girl.” Sukuna pulled your thong down and you groaned as you felt him use his finger to circle your clit. Seemed like daddy knew your body well, knew the pressure and the patterns that could turn you into a stuttering and groaning mess. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you shifted slightly to make him go deeper. His fingers fucked you open so well, deepening his strokes to rub your g-spot and draw you closer to the edge. You felt yourself give in to him, becoming more wet as he continued touching your clit and pumping his fingers into your sloppy cunt as well.

“You’re so fucking wet for me. Can you hear it? How my fingers ram in and out of your slutty hole, huh? Clenching me so well, sucking me in. Tell daddy what you want, little one, tell me.”

“D–daddy…please, please fuck me”, Sukuna never stopped fingering your hole and restarted spanking your ass, “I need your cock, daddy, ahh– I’m begging you to fill me up.”

You heard Sukuna unzipping his pants, something warm now pushing against your entrance about to replace his fingers.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll call me your god.”

Maybe you were way too horny and desperate, losing touch with reality because suddenly you felt two hands grabbing your waist while two other hands wrapped around your body and cupped your tits. Sukuna rammed his cock into your pussy but you could feel something even thicker and bigger laying on your ass.

“You’re my favorite human, little one.”

[farfromstrange]

S.M.S | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Getting intimate with Matt in the morning on a lazy Sunday.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), SMS (soft morning sex), slight Dom!Matt, praise kink, use of "good girl", unprotected p in v, slight choking, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, slight (very slight) breeding kink, mention of cum eating, use of "my wife"

Word Count: 1.8k

A/n: This is pure filth with no plot. I don't know what came over me. I'm so desperate for this man, it's not even funny anymore. I'm gonna take a cold shower because writing this made me feel some kind of way... anyway, enjoy this little smut piece! Diving right in under the cut (with a gif), so minors, scramble!

Read me on AO3

The morning sun streams in through the windows. In the distance, a few birds are chirping at the top of their little lungs. A car honks. The people of Hell’s Kitchen are slowly waking up and going about their weekend. 

All the noise doesn’t matter to you though. The four walls you call home form a protective shield around you, and the only music in the air is the mixed sound of your moans and Matt’s strong thighs meeting the back of yours as he thrusts his thick cock into the tight confines of your cunt.

He’s behind you, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the front, and the other holds on tight to your hip. He moves your body back against his, thrusting into you over and over again at a gentle pace. You don’t have to do anything but take his long, deep, and slow strokes that you can feel in your stomach. 

With every thrust, the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside of you. The spot that makes your eyes roll back, your toes curl, and stars erupt in front of your eyes. It makes your entire body give in to the compelling pull of absolute pleasure, the coil within you tightening and tightening and tightening, but still too far away to explode. 

Matt’s fingers are rough, but when they touch you, they remind you of soft feathers, always making sure not to hurt you. He pours his love into his touch like a poet would bleed his soul into his rhymes. His touch burns into your being—into the essence of who you are—and it consumes you to the point that you could never forget the feeling of Matt Murdock touching you. Sometimes it’s rough, sometimes it’s sensual, but it’s always full of unconditional love.

His sweaty skin slaps against yours. He drags his cock out of your cunt again, slowly, until only the tip remains inside, and you whimper at the loss. He grunts into your ear. The sound of your wetness collecting around his shaft, pouring down your thighs together with his pre-cum like an overfilled glass of white wine, reverberates in his ears. It drives him crazy.

Matt grunts, and he pushes back into you. The squelching sound that your slick folds make is not only audible to him. 

You convince yourself that you can feel every single vein along his cock as he fills you in a way only he can. You can feel him twitch, already so sensitive from a sloppy morning fuck—but are you even fucking or are you, in the most literal sense of the word, making love? Are you being primal and animalistic or are you being gentle with each other? It’s more of the latter, you suppose. Neither of you is in a rush. It’s early morning on a Sunday. All you need is each other after life kept you separate for most of the past week. What you have and what you are doing right now is raw, unbridled intimacy—and a primal need that you need to satiate. 

His stubble scratches against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. You moan again. The added stimulation intensifies the burning in your core. The position he has got you in allows him to go deeper, but it tightens your walls to the point it’s almost painful. It’s not unlike you to crave a little pain with pleasure.

“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Matt growls into your ear. “I can feel your pulse against my cock. Do you know how fucking lewd that sounds?”

“Oh, God!” Your eyes roll back, and your toes curl as you moan his name again and again. 

He chuckles roughly. “Never heard something more beautiful.”

“Matt, please,” you beg without knowing what you’re begging for.

You want to come. You want to clench your walls around his cock and cover him in your wetness until the sheets are soaked; you want him to fill you up with his cum until you’re stuffed to the brim, and you want him to eat it out of you like a starved caveman, but you also don’t want this to end. 

You want to keep feeling him just like this, in every ounce of your body, consuming you whole, and loving you endlessly, emotionally, and physically. 

He smiles against your heated skin. Again, he kisses your shoulder. His hand comes to rest around your throat, not squeezing but simply holding you. 

“Lift your leg for me, sweetheart,” he commands.

You inhale sharply. How could you ever disobey him? You lift your leg as he told you to, and he grabs your thighs with his hand, throwing it over his own. You’re on your side, spread wide open for him—over him. His cock hits even deeper, even further than before, and you ask yourself if that is even possible. He’s just so fucking thick. 

“There you go,” Matt purrs, his lips pressing to your ear. The sweat dripping down his temple mixes with yours and soaks into your skin. “Good girl.”

The good girl gets you. It gets you every time. Praise from him is like being praised by a higher entity. Your walls tighten in a vice grip. 

He groans. The groan is so deep it makes his chest vibrate, and his hand tightens around your neck ever so slightly. It’s enough to make you gasp. 

You cling to him. Your nails drag over the hairs on his forearm. The moan you let out sounds high-pitched and too far away to grasp, but he hears it. He hears it all.

And then Matt—that fucker—reaches his free hand between your legs and he cups your wet pussy. His cock still thrusting in and out of you scrambles the words in your brain and turns them into desperate mewls.

He curses when you clench down around him. “You take me so well,” he never fails a beat with the praise, knowing just when to use it to pull a response out of you.

You reach behind yourself to tangle your fingers in his hair. The strands are sweaty, sticking to his skin, and you wish you could see more than his stubble. You wish he would tilt his head down to kiss you. Instead, you have to press your lips to the skin of his neck, tracing your tongue over his pulse points and tugging at his hair. That is how you can taste him. 

You are needy and desperate, and your body is the one thing in control. You couldn’t form a coherent thought even if you tried. It’s just him, his hands, and his cock; he consumes you, all of you, without mercy.

Your touch burns his fuses. He whimpers. You love it when he does that. When he sounds wrecked for you. Only for you. You are the only one that can make him feel this way.

His hand disappears from your cunt. “Open,” he instructs. 

Out of instinct, you open your mouth. He slides the three fingers in the middle between your lips, pushing down on your tongue until you gag like you would on his cock. 

“That’s it. Get them nice and wet for me so I can rub your clit.”

You moan, swirling your tongue around the digits. You suck on them. The saliva drips from the corner of your mouth, down his forearm.

“Gonna make you come, okay?” Matt pants. It turns him on just how messy he can get you, and every time anew, he sees how far he can go. He gives another harsh thrust, then adds, his voice still beyond breathless, “Make you come all over my cock.” 

A strangled moan escapes him, and it is like porn to you. 

When he finally kisses your cheek, you turn your head to meet his lips. As soon as you taste him and yourself on his tongue, you’re done for.

He cups your pussy again, this time rubbing all three fingers you just sucked over your sensitive clit. You howl. Your back arches away and at the same time into his touch–you’re going to burst soon, you know it. 

As if he read your mind, he presses his fingers just below your jaw. The rhythm of his fingers on your clit matches the pounding of his cock, and he skilfully drags his thrusts along your G-spot. 

You pull at his hair. “Matt. I’m gonna–” The words are too much to utter at this time.

“I know,” he coos. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Fuck!”

“Come for me.”

The coil snaps, sending a shockwave rippling through your entire body, and drowning you in ecstasy. Your thighs quiver and you shout his name like a prayer. You’re falling, and there seems to be no end in sight. No one to catch you. 

You come long and hard, his thrusts faltering as you suck him in and clench with the sheer force of your orgasm. Instinctively, you pull your leg back to shut them and keep him trapped inside, but his hand stops you. 

“Keep your legs open,” Matt says.

You cry out. With every thrust, with every flick of his finger over your already sensitive clit, he drives you deeper into a state of overstimulation.

“I want you to give me another one, baby. One more, and I’ll fill you up. Please.”

It doesn’t take long for you to be back on that edge. You intertwine your fingers with his on your throat. The perfect necklace. 

Matt pulls out again. You tilt your hips back, forcing him back inside. “I’m gonna come,” you warn him. 

It hasn’t even been two minutes since he last made you, but he knows just how to keep you on edge. That way, he can drag several orgasms out of you, each more intense than the other. He has made it his mission to ruin you for any other man.

When you come this time, Matt lets you snap your thighs shut as your entire body shakes in his arms. You cry out, bucking your hips, and clinging to his hand, but it isn’t enough. 

He thrusts upward into you once more, and then he’s coming, too. His hot cum spurts into your cunt. For a moment, he stills completely. 

Matt sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, the copper taste exploding on both of your tongues, but a little blood has never turned you off. 

He fucks his cum into you, slowly, passionately, making sure that no drop goes to waste. Only when he’s satisfied does he stop, and he allows the two of you a moment to breathe.

Thump, thump, thump. Your heart begins to slow down. 

“Holy shit, Matthew,” you murmur. 

He chuckles, smoothing the spot where he dug his teeth into over with his tongue. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Oh, good morning, indeed.” A satisfied giggle passes your lips. “I think we just woke the neighbors.”

“What time is it?”

You peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Half past ten,” you say.

“Then it’s not a disturbance of the peace,” he states as a matter of fact. 

“It’s not?”

“Nah.” He pulls out, rolling over to pull you into his side. “A noise complaint would never hold up in court. Even if they filed one, I’m a really good lawyer,” he says, “and I will defend my wife’s pleasure until the day I die.”

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

[tired-biscuit]

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: implied age gap

divider credit: div1nepetal

i just know that logan says something along the lines of “nice and easy now” when you attempt to sit down on his cock cowgirl style for the first time ever.

you’re obviously eager to get to the good part, writhing and wiggling your hips with a sense of urgency as you hurry to lower yourself onto him, and he’s just this solid epitome of almost cocky assurance, body warm and firm and grounded wherever your grabby hands decide to touch it.

he’s not exactly patient about the entire thing — the animal within him just loves to claw its way out to the surface whenever he’s distracted by pleasure — but he definitely can hold out for longer than you can. he’s been around for far longer compared to you, after all; has indulged in his share of fun way more often despite being a self-proclaimed loner.

so he’s steady where you’re frantic, calm where you’re wild with need. he’s knowledgeable; he holds you by the hips with a firm grip and slows you down when you try to forcefully take all of him all at once. whispers crude praise into the side of your neck when he deems you’re finally able to open up enough to let him sink into you comfortably. calls you sweetheart and other sugary pet names as he inhales the scent of your sweat then, the scent of ‘i’m trying my damn hardest to impress you, mister logan sir’ that laces it, the foolishly youthful desperation behind it.

he fucks you slowly at first. nice and deep, fingers idly tracing your spine, your sides, the small of your back every so often. caressing, appreciating. he takes his time with stretching you and splitting you open, relishing the way your pussy squeezes around his dick in answer each time he bumps that precious little sweet spot inside you. it even makes your thighs quiver.

then it builds up — so effortlessly that you can’t possibly pinpoint the moment that switch flicks inside his head. his calloused hand moves up to the back of your neck as he smoothly picks up the pace, squeezing it surprisingly harsher than you expected, making you tense up and let out a little gasp of startlement. his teeth drag over your naked skin and your walls get hotter with friction and thrill. wetter. he angles your head back as you moan, yanking you by the hair just to get you to be louder.

the bite he gives you hurts in the best way possible. he’s rougher. greedier. primal.

you may be on top of him, but you’ve failed to notice that he is still the one that’s in charge as he times his thrusts in whichever way he thinks best. and you don’t know how it happened but now he’s literally pounding into you, making you bounce on his fat cock, ignorant to the little squeals and mewls you’re letting out in response. forcing you to cling onto him uselessly, arms wrapped around his neck, grabbing handfuls of his shirt because you simply don’t know what else to do.

and you’re drooling, you’re fucking drooling onto his shoulder when you cum from sheer overstimulation. trembling all over, with your toes curled to the brink of pain.

so much for taking it nice and easy.

[seungfl0wer]

*Run Rabbit*

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Primal Play, Breeding, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Sex Outside, (P In V), Reader called Bunny. (not proof read)

Kinks: Primal Play + Breeding

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

-🩵

Your boyfriend has invited you to go camping for the weekend with him. A nice peaceful area he has found, nestled in the woods a small cabin by the lake. The place was beautiful and at night you could see the stunning stars sprinkled across the sky. You had already set up everything and were just relaxing by the fire as he cooked some meat over it.

The two of you sat there just talking about everything until Minho left out a chuckle. You tilted your head as if to ask him what he was laughing at and he pointed. You squinted your eyes to see two rabbits chasing on another the bigger one mounting the other. “Ah to have the thrill of the chase” he said almost too nonchalantly. Staring at him for a brief second “hmm” you said eyes locked on him. “What? Don’t think it’d be fun for me to chase you through these woods like a little bunny running from a mighty cat?”

He was meeting your gaze now smirking at the way your eyes almost lit up at his words. “Yeah? And does it end in the big ol cat eating the rabbit” you teased. “Something like that. Something will probably get eaten in the end” he shrugged. You choked on your spit at his comment, you could feel yourself becoming turned on as you played fantasy’s in your head. “Bunny” he said his voice almost teasing “I’ll give you a minute to run as far as you can.” The devilish smile that was plastered across his face made you almost moan.

“And if you catch me?” You say tilting your head again. He breathed in letting the air out in a sigh “then I’ll fuck you like the little rabbit you are” he chuckled. You stood up looking at him with a smile “you gotta catch me first kitty cat.” You teased. You were ready to bolt out of there before Minho spoke “before I start the timer you remember the safe word right bunny?” He said already eyeing you up. You nod “mhm.” You said in almost a hum. “Good you better get going I hit the timer a good 10 seconds ago” he said with a laugh.

You didn’t even hesitate running through the woods looking everywhere for a place you could hide. You heard Minho yell “Oh bunny” your brain going fuzzy realizing the time was already up and he was on the hunt. You ran past a tree with a red mark realizing you had already passed it. You were going in circles. You could hear twigs snapping as Minho ran through the woods in search for you. You didn’t know if you wanted to hide because the chase excited you or wanted to be pounced on from how turned on you were with all of this.

A twig snapped again sounding too close for comfort this time. As you started to run again you could hear Minho behind you “bunny” his voice almost growl running close behind you. You bobbed and weaved through the brush trying to lose him. You looked back quickly and saw he wasn’t there which made you slow down a bit. You were trying to catch your breath before you hear another twig break this time directly behind you. Before you could even react Minho had his arms around you, he manhandled you to the ground.

He moved you into position ass up in the air head down in the dirt. “Dirty little rabbit gave me a good chase.” He growled gripping your hips nicely as he pushed his body down onto to whisper into your ear. “Did the stupid little bunny really think she could out smart the sly cat hmm?” He chuckled an almost villain laugh. “I’m gonna fuck this rabbit stupid. Gonna show her why little bunnies shouldn’t mess with big scary cats.” He said voice husky, he was gripping your thighs hard rutting into you as he talked.

“My pretty little bunny” he said moving his body back to smack your ass hard. You let out a whimper your core aching from his touch, from his hot words. God you needed him, you needed him so badly it almost hurt. Minho on the other hand his brain was so foggy. The scenario running through his head as he felt his animalistic desires taking over. He felt as if he just caught his prey and was ready to completely devour you. The glint in his eyes was almost unnerving but fuck was it ever so hot.

He had no thoughts in his head other than ‘breed bunny.’ His body was almost on fire from desire and so was yours. Everything felt hot felt like a movie scene or I guess a porn scene. Minhos hands yanked down your sweats, ripping the pretty little lace panties you had on before pushing his fingers into you. The feeling of having something finally inside you made you moan so heavenly. Your wet cunt dripping around his digits clenching around them.

He chuckled that same villain like chuckle “you’re so fucking desperate aren’t you” he said his free hand coming down hard on your ass. “You’re such a filthy little animal” his voice almost a growl at this point. He pumped his fingers in and out of you stopping abruptly pulling them out. You let out a loud whine at the loss of them feeling so empty now. “I’ll give you another minute to run hmm?” He said his tone teasing. When you didn’t move though he smirked “no? Rather stay here and let me fuck you senseless? Gonna be my little toy to fuck hmm?” His words made you groan in response “y-yes” you stuttered out.

Minho bit his lip hard, he pulled his pants down quickly his cock sprang up smacking his stomach. He wasn’t super girthy but was very long. You always joked he had a pornstars dick which almost inflated his ego of course. He aligned himself to your entrance rubbing the head between your folds hitting your throbbing little nub. The sensation made you moan you were so sensitive wanting just to be touched at this point.

Minhos eyes were locked on the way your juices wet his cock making a mess of it. He let out a low groan before he put the tip to your entrance pushing fully in, in one swift motion. He let out the most lustful moan as his balls slapped your wetness. You almost screamed at the feeling of being so filled so fast. He didn’t let himself adjust long before he was pounding into you. His hands gripping harshly at your hips nails digging deep into your skin.

The strewn of ‘fucks’ leaving his mouth started to mumble together, and you? You were such a moaning mess under him drool trailing down your chin. He let another harsh smack to your ass before moving his hand to in tangle in your hair gripping it hard pulling your head back. “This wanted you wanted? The big Cat fucking you like a rabbit in heat hmm? Wanting nothing more than me to fuck you hard like this?” He spat.

You groaned in response but it wasn’t good enough for him “Are you too stupid to talk? Use your words or are you just a dumb little bunny?” He hissed pulling your hair harder. “Fuck- Mm-Min yes- want-“ your words were almost incoherent at this point already so fucked out of your mind. He laughed in response “you can’t even speak properly to fucked out already?” He said this time he didn’t wait for a response. He let go of your hair pushing your head back down as-well as your body, keeping your ass in the air though.

The new angle let him get even deeper he watched as his cock disappeared and reappeared in and out of your sloppy cunt. You could hear him mumbling to himself ‘what mess, so wet for me’ he said ‘gonna cum deep and breed you good’ his voice was almost a whisper and a growl combined. It was so fucking hot. He left a smack to your ass again smirking at the big red print he had made. His movements were becoming a bit erratic, he could feel his high coming. Not wanting this to end just yet he pushed deep into you before stopping his movements.

He reached his hand down to play with your neglected clit rubbing harsh circles over it. He moved his body against yours once again sucking your shoulder and neck harshly. He loved marking your body letting everyone know you were taken. You were taken by him. And only him. The feeling of you being so stuffed, him now biting your neck harshly and his hand moving so perfectly against your clit was too much. Your legs started to shake it becoming harder for you to stay how you were positioned. Minho growled against your skin “stay” he staid feeling your legs become wobbly.

“Min- close- please” you moaned the drool dropping down your face now. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made him start to move. His movements were slow at first before he quickened them groaning against your ear now. “Cum on my cock while I pump you full, gonna breed you so good. Gonna fill you with all my cum- gonna-“ his words stuttered as his high was approaching “gonna make fill you till I know your pregnant with all my kittens” he said bringing his free hand to grip around your throat moving your head to kiss you sloppily.

Sucking hard on your tongue exchanging moans teeth crashing into each other. You felt your legs almost give out at the last hard thrust of Minhos burring his cock deep inside you before releasing all his hot cum. You could feel his cock poking at your stomach feeling all of his hot liquid fill you to the brim. His hand that was still playing with you clit moved faster as your high came along just as quick. Your high washing over you as your cunt gripped him perfectly. “Ah- fuck-“ he moaned out at the feeling “your cunts gonna suck every last drop out of me” he said body shaking at the feeling.

“Y/n” he moaned into your ear he wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him as you came down from your high both of you trying to catch your breath. Once you two came down you could feel him still twitching a bit inside you. His arms lazily wrapped around you his head in the crook of your neck as he kissed you softly. “Ugh fuck” he groaned out. “What?” You said breathily. “We’re gonna have to walk the whole way back” he whined. You chuckled a bit “yeah guess so.”

He smiled against your skin “I’ll give you a minute to get back or we’ll just go for a round two if I catch you.” He chuckled a bit. “Minho, I don’t even think I can stand right now.” You teased. “Well better try before I start the counter again.” He said kissing your neck. You were gonna call his bluff but you could feel his cock become hard again. “If I make it home before you catch me we are taking a nice bath.” You bargained. He nodded “fine but you better start running I already started the timer.” He said with an evil grin. This little asshole I swear.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[miupow]

★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE !

what happens when you give the hyung line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?

꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids hyung line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , breeding kink , primal play , vaginal fingering , oral (m. rec) , deepthroat , unprotected sex , creampies , masturbation (m. rec) , phone sex , diy porn , sex while filming

a/n ⸝⸝ requested skz version of my txt drabble! i’m lowkey not a big fan of this… but here it is anyway lol. [ 0. 7k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

𝔅ANGCHAN

chris is completely sure the aphrodisiac candies you purchased wouldn't do a thing, just a silly marketing gimmick printed all over the foil packaging he turned over in his hands. but you had gotten them as a surprise, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings– so he casts aside his doubts and eats his share with a smile, ready to put on his best show of pretending to be affected. he wouldn't even be really acting, since you can get him going no matter what... yet to his complete shock reduced to a mess within minutes, panting and squirming above you, his hips canting up to press the swell of his clothed cock against the curve of your ass. his control slips when you grind back against him, pussy drunk and unable to think of anything other than fuck, claim, breed as he flips you over and mounts you like an animal. he’s definitely having you get more of these.

𝔐INHO

minho’s immediate response to you showing him the chocolates was to scold you for wasting money on worthless placebos. there was no way you believed that they would actually do anything, right? but he eats them with you anyway, because you’re very persuasive when you’re pouting. he’ll tell you they did nothing for him at all, as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy, your hot little mouth swallowing his cock to the hilt. he didn’t feel a thing, as he’s lining up his weeping tip to your entrance. he’s completely unaffected, watching with dark hazy eyes as his thick cum leaks out of your hole. those stupid chocolates had nothing to do with how he fucked you until the sun came up. and you let him believe it, because it gives you an excuse to try it again.

𝓒HANGBIN

changbin always finds some way to derail your plans… you had hidden some aphrodisiac chocolates your had bought in hopes of surprising him with them later, but you were never the best at hiding things— your boyfriend finds them within the first day. mistaking them for regular candy, he eats them without a thought; and hours later he calls you desperately from the studio, hiding in the bathroom with his pants around his knees as he fists his aching cock. the lewd wet sounds echo against the tile and harmonize with his pretty low moans, all filtering directly into the phone’s speaker and making your pussy throb. “i need you so bad,” he whimpers, his hand speeding up, “need your pussy so bad…” detailing in a needy groan every nasty little thing he planned to do to you once he got home, the growl in his voice enough to make your legs shake. you hated to ruin the mood, but you just had to know; “binnie, did you eat those chocolates in the pantry?” “um… maybe?”

𝓗YUNJIN

the candies were his idea, actually— he figured they were a perfect addition to the films he liked to make. you couldn’t even call them sex tapes, with how careful and artistic hyunjin was in filming them… but he loved to film often, and was always coming up with new ways to keep things new and exciting. sharing candies between kisses on camera, hands wandering as you lay tangled together on the hotel bed. the both of you growing hotter and needier as time went on, gentle caresses turning into rough manhandling, tugging at each other’s clothes til you were both bare in eachother’s arms. hyunjin looks straight into the camera with a smirk as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your face buried in the pillow to muffle your scream when he slides his thick long cock into your wet pussy with one firm thrust. he reaches over to pick the camera up off of it’s tripod, angles it down so it gets a clear view of your asscheeks bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts, his big hand pressing down on your arched back as his cock splits your creamy cunt open. neither of you last as long as usual, deeply affected by the aphrodisiac and desperate for release— he makes sure to get the best possible angle of him pulling out and cumming on your ass, pearly white ropes of cum decorating your flushed skin like a painting. you’re his favorite work of art, and he just can’t get enough of showing it off.