#but its better in a deeper pool

[trannypresident]

she came over and we went for a night swim (heated pool <3) and world conflict would be over if everyone tried making out and grinding on someone in water because holy shit i never have before. you can grab and hold each other and it feels so uniquely exhilarating and floaty without being exerting. just intimate and easy and so fucking good i feel altered

[gojonanami]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.

↳ JJK MEN: HOW THEY FUCK YOU WHEN THEY'RE JEALOUS

↳ feat. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, yuta okkotsu

cw: 18+ only, nsfw, overstimulation (f!), dick drunk, orgasm delay (f!), riding, semi-exhibitionism, spanking, teasing, dom! geto, soft dom! nanami, breeding, body worship, pleasure dom! choso, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, oral (f!), fingering (f!), facesitting (f!), marking (f!), geto uses the term "monkeys," degradation (slut) in geto's blurb, ijichi and ino mentioned in gojo's and choso's blurbs respectively, a/n: the only way to read the title is to the tune of olivia rodrigo's song. also its my first time writing yuta - be gentle.

SATORU GOJO | overstimulation, dick drunk, orgasm delay

jealous of laughing at another's joke

"T-Toru, ngh, please, I can't—" and you're only met with a laugh, his lips pressed against your neck, as his cock continued to fuck you.

How many times had you cum? You had lost count. Your cunt was soaked with your release, along with your thighs and his cock, slipping down his skin as he fucked you hard and fast.

He was relentless, maybe limitless, especially today.

"You can handle it, sweetheart, know this little cunt can take it," he's grunting, as his fingers dig into your plush thighs, "haven't broken this pussy yet," and you couldn't bring yourself to be concerned about the "yet" as he brought you to cum yet again, and you were sure if every word hadn't been fucked out of your brain— it had now.

Your eyes were glazed over, fucked out, as you stared up at him, as only pauses a moment, to press your thighs to your chest, "gonna fuck you right, baby, gotta kiss your womb," and you're whining, and he's only pistoning in deeper, "not so funny now huh?" he's hissing as you grow even fuckin' tighter — how was that possible?

"what are you—" and you whine as his tip grazes even deeper, and you're sure he's somehow fucking your stomach now, "are you jealous of Ijichi?"

"Don't say his name," he gives a particularly rough thrust of his hips to punctuate his point, drawing another squeal from your lips, and yet he's the one who brings him up, "fuckin' laughing at his joke like I wasn't even there. He isn't funny. Nowhere as funny as me!" and you're already close again, tears pooling in your eyes, as you stammer.

Was he really that upset because you laughed at an old friend's bad joke?

"Toru, a-are you serious—" and he's slowing down now to a tortuous pace, as you whimper, "baby, he just made a joke, I was being polite," you can't even laugh at how ridiculous it is with how badly you want to cum.

"Only i'm supposed to see that smile, that laugh," and he's teasing you with the tip of his cock now, dragging it in teasing circles around your clit, "you're mine, mine to make smile, make to make laugh, mine to fuck," and he's fucking you again, bottoming out in one thrust, "say it, baby, tell me who you belong to,"

And your back is arching, throat raw as you tell him just how much he owns you, as you orgasm for the nth time, and he's not far behind, his hot release spurting into your needy cunt, as he fucks it only deeper.

"Toru," you moan again, "Toru, fuck," you murmur, fucked dumb by his dick, as you both come down from your highs, "were you really that jealous of—"

And he only pouts, pressing his lips to yours again, "Don't say his name," and he's pressing needy kisses to your neck, as he pulls out, your mixed cum leaking out, before he's slipping two fingers in, pulling another moan from your lips, "by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember his name."

SUGURU GETO | riding, semi-exhibitionism, dom!geto, spanking, degradation (slut)

jealous of you talking about someone else

"Princess, you can do better than that," Suguru is clicking his tongue, as you split yourself open on his cock, warm walls squeezing all too deliciously around his already drenched dick, as only whines and pants left your kiss ruined lips, "gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"

He had you riding him in a side room of a temple he used often to collect money, some his other followers congregated in the room over to hear him "preach of the new world." Bullshit that he fed to monkeys that made them full and happy and complacent -- but right now, he had something else that was making you feel so full.

"C'mon baby, ride me like you mean it," he coos, and his hand is coming down on your ass with a mean spank to your already sore ass, heat blooming from the impact, "you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"

"Sugu, I was just trying to help," you whine, as his hips snap against yours, making you squeal, as he finds his way even deeper into your already fucked out cunt, "I just was--"

"You were flirting," he hisses, as his hands find their way to your hips, forcing you to meet his upward thrusts, as your hands cover your mouth to muffle your moans, "you love this, love it when I fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut," you whine, but his words only makes your sweet cunt give a telltale clench around his dick, "that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"

"Sugu, please 'm close—can't—" and his hands are pulling back, letting you do all the work, and you do, fucking yourself stupid on his cock, the wet squelch of your pussy ringing in your ears — so loud, you can't understand why someone hasn't burst into the room yet— but you can't bring yourself to care, when you're so fuckin' close to cumming.

"That's it, fuck, s'good for me," and he's pulling your hands away from your mouth, letting your moans resonate and fill the room, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his cock, as he grunts, dick twitching as your walls cream around his cock, "now moan my name as you cum so these goddamn monkeys know whose cock you're bouncing on."

KENTO NANAMI | soft!dom, breeding, hair pulling

jealous of running into an ex

"Did he ever make you feel this good?" Kento's question murmured against your neck, as he presses soft kisses to your neck, dragging his leaking tip against your aching cunt, "did he love you like I did?" And his fingers sneak under your head, making your neck arch as he tugged your hair.

"N-no, Kento, he didn't—"

"He certainly acted as if we were the same," he scoffed at the thought of your ex, the one you had dated before Kento, who had the audacity to approach the two of you today. Catching up with you and even touching your arm, as if your husband wasn't there, even ignoring him, until you introduced him. They had shook hands, and you knew Kento had squeezed his hand a little too hard, but now those same hands were gripping you softly — but firmly.

"He's nothing compared to you you're everything to me," and he's rewarding you with sinking his tip into your needy pussy, "ah, Kento, please stop teasing me," you whine, a noise leaving your throat that you didn't even know you could make.

"You're practically sucking me in, but did you do the same for that bastard?" he's dragging his cock up and down, driving you insane with how your walls squeezed, trying to pull him in, but he resisted every tempting contraction of your sweet cunt, "did you take him this well?" and his teeth graze against the soft skin of your neck, "did he make you beg for him?"

"Only you make me feel this good, only you, Kento, only you make me this needy, make this pussy so—" and he's sinking into you, slowly, torturously, but pleasurably — inch by inch, until he's bottoming out, but he doesn't move, not at first, "please, Kento, please—move—"

And he obliges you, thrusting into you, fucking you in earnest, his cock dragging against your walls with each snap of his hips agianst yours, "such a needy baby," he grunts, "your cunt is trying to hold onto me even as I pull out — is that how much you want my cock? Want me to fill you?"

You're nodding, moaning his name, as you meet his lips in messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, as he fucks you harder, "Look at me, baby," he orders, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his lust clouded gaze, making you all the more sensitive to his touch, "want you to watch me as I breed you," and you're groaning, pussy twitching at the thought, "how're you even tighter?" he grunts, "want me to breed you, don't you? Want me to fill you with my cum? Make you full with my children," and your head is thrown back, voice raw as you can only groan his name again and again.

"Kento, mmph, 'm s'close, can't,"

"Cum for me, baby, let me fill you," he's finding your lips in another sloppy kiss as you cum, hard, walls gripping him as he fucked you through your orgasm. And he's cumming too right behind you, filling your womb with his hot release, "good girl," he murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your chest, "but if you think I'm done, we're far from finished," and he's pulling out slowly, before gathering his cum that leaked out on his fingers before slipping it back into your still sensitive cunt, "we're not going to be getting much sleep tonight, love."

CHOSO KAMO | body worship, pleasure dom, oral(f), squirting, implied oral (m!)

jealous of a fellow sorcerer flirting

"Cho-so! Nugh, please—" your fingers buried in his black locks, hair ties long since come loose from your tugging — and you're not even sure if you want to pull him closer, or push him away, "i can't—"

"I know you have more in you, my love," he's only murmuring against your sweet cunt, tongue flicking against your swollen clit, "need to feel you flood my mouth, need to taste every inch of you,” he’s re-doubling his efforts, his hot tongue dragging your gummy walls, making good on his promise, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted — how are you this perfect? How do I deserve you?” You look at him, nestled between your thighs, his lips and chin glossy with your release, tongue darting out to lick your pre from his lips.

“Choso, y-you do, I love you, only you,” and he’s peering up at you with a lidded gaze — but you see something else besides lust — insecurity lined his furrowed brow, and then it clicks, “you know that Ino was just being friend—"

But he’s burying his face back, fucking your cunt his his tongue, as his thumb teases your needy clit, your words falling away to pleasure.

“It wasn’t just friendly. He wants you. I know the lustful gaze of a man, especially one who wants what I have,” he mutters, as his teeth graze your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, “but how do I have the right to you? Half curse, half human — what am I really to have the right to be with you?” And then he bites your thigh, pulling a loud moan from your lips, “but I can’t help but want you.”

“I love you, only you, I don’t care what you are. I love everything about you because you’re mine. My Choso,” you manage between pants, as your fingers tug his hair to force him to meet your gaze — make him see the state he’s left you in — utterly fucked out with your chest rising and falling, your eyes glazed over with lust, “please, I need you—"

And that’s all he needs to redouble his errors, rubbing himself on the mattress below him, certainly soaking through his boxers and the sheets.

“Mmph, Choso, please, I’m—“ and his lips latch around your clit, sucking hard, until you squirt on his face, and he’s eagerly lapping up your release, as you moan his name. He’s slurping and swallowing your cum with lips quirked in a smile, his groans and grunts only making your cunt flutter around his tongue.

And he’s pulling away finally, an unspoken question on his lips whether he did well, and your only response is to pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, before flipping him over. You kiss your way down his body, as you tug his boxers down to free his erection, tongue grazing the underside, making him groan.

You grin, “My turn.”

YUTA OKKOTSU | fingering (f!), marking, face sitting

jealous of an ex you just broke up with

“Yuta, please—" the last word comes out a squeal, as his calloused fingers tease the crotch of your shorts, a warm heat settling over your skin all at once but all too slowly — like the start of a wildfire.

"I told you I'd help you forget about him," he murmurs, his long and lithe fingers all too skilled, as they snap the waistband of your shorts against your skin, "he never deserved you - you're special, especially to me," and he's pulling down your shorts, until you're kicking them away at your feet.

And this fire had spread far too fast — especially with his fingers teasing your folds through your soaked panties.

“Still thinking about him?” Yuta asks softly, his words soft but not the intent, and he only sighs at your whine, "I'll have to do better for you then," and his fingers slip past your ruined underwear as they tug the fabric down your thighs, making butterflies bloom in your stomach before they surely burst into flames from the fire Yuta is brewing, as two fingers part your dripping folds, "already so wet? I've barely started,"

"Yuta," and he's pausing, as you try to form a sentence, but only comes out as a single word, "more," and his lips quirk into a smile.

"Of course," and he's fucking you open nice and slow, your pre slipping down his fingers onto your hardwood living room floor, "i've been wanting to do this for so long — has your ex ever done this for you?" and you only swallow, whining when he stops, only continuing when you shake your head, "you deserve so much, you deserve the world," and a third finger sinks into you, making you cry out his name, "that's it, love, let me make you feel good."

"Yuta, please," you moan, as his fingers drag against your needy cunt, as he noses the nape of your neck, placing wet kisses along your neck, before his teeth graze your sensitive skin, sucking and licking marks that surely will dot your skin the next day, "ah—"

"Mine," he murmurs, and that makes your cunt twitch around his fingers — god you were so close, so close—and that's right when he's pulling his fingers out.

"Yut—" and he's licking your release from his fingers, before he's tugging you into a bruising kiss, sticking his tongue out to meet yours in a messy kiss, before he's pulling you on top of him, wet cunt pressed against his chest, "what are you--"

"Sit on my face," he says, his pupils nearly completely dark as he meets your gaze, "i want to show you what you've been missing -- how you deserve to be treated," and the blood rushes to your face, as your head shakes no, but he can feel your pussy say yes -- walls squeezing around nothing, "please,"

"Yuta, you don't have to—" but he's unwavering in his gaze, "what if I crush you?"

"It wouldn't be the worst way to go — you know I did have a secret execution scheduled before," and you smack him, but he only catches you by the wrist and kisses each finger, licking your fingertips, sending heat right to your cunt, "let me make you feel good — better than he ever has," and now you realize what it is — it's jealousy.

So you settle above his face, your cheeks burning as you feel his breath warm your aching pussy, "don't worry," and he's helping you ease yourself onto his lips, and right before his tongue drags slowly along the length of your sopping cunt, "you won't remember your name, much less his, after this."

a/n: i just realized i used a similar line in gojo's and yuta's, but y'know what, like teacher like student. what was this? who knows? will i do something like this again? maybe.

[bubble-tea-blossom]

Hear me out fellow Joel sluts, the demon of horny hath possessed me.

Jackson era. Pure smut. Age gap. Frantic fucking on a couch. 18+ only.

Desperate not to cum, Joel thinks about what a terrible person he is.

I mean, he knows her parents for fuck’s sake. He’s over at their house on the regular. How the hell he’s supposed to look them in the eye now? Now after fucking their pretty little daughter like an animal on their own couch.

Joel has her on her back, her legs bouncing in the air while he fucks her in a mating press.

He likes it best this way. When he can get deep, grinding his pelvis against hers. He likes watching her cute face screw up in pleasure, her eyes and mouth popping open when he knocks on her cervix.

She claws at him, arching her back when he grinds even deeper,

“Fuck!” She cries. Joel stares at her lips, puffy and wet from when she sucked on his dick. She’s trembling now when Joel slides his cock in and out. In and out, he fucks her tight channel open with every thrust.

The girl is whining now, tears brimming in her big eyes as all she can do is lie there and take the brutal pounding from a man older than her father.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” she whispers, and indeed Joel can feel the walls of her tight little pussy start to flutter. Poor thing’s been put through the ringer tonight.

His mouth falls open in a groan. She feels heavenly, wrapped around his dick and pinned underneath him.

Shit this girl’s gonna drain his balls soon if he’s not careful. And Joel has no plan on this ending anytime soon.

So Joel thinks about what people would say if they found out. What they’d call him behind his back.

Dirty old man. Shit like that.

Joel’s finding it very hard to care when she finally cums. Her cunt squeezes around him like he tasered her. Her back arches as much as it can with all of his bulk pressing down on her.

Joel doesn’t let up his thrusts. No, he fucks her through her orgasm, pummeling her pussy with his cock, his balls slapping against the soaked skin of her asshole.

“Fuck pretty girl, you got a great pussy.” Joel grunts, feeling her tremble underneath him.

She gives a tired laugh, “Thanks.”

“Little thing takes me so well, stretches out nice for me.” He purrs, feeling his own orgasm pull low in his gut.

He slows his thrusts, wanting to savour this. The feeling of her warmth wrapped around him, her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. The smell of her neck when he sucks and licks.

Her little cunt, warm and wet and all for his taking.

Its too much. Without any further warning, Joel feels a familiar jolt in the base of his spine. He instinctually slams himself as deep as he can while his balls tighten and he pumps shot after shot of cum deep inside her.

The girl doesn’t react how Joel thought she would. She lies there, letting out a little moan at the feeling of his cock throbbing against her walls. It takes a few seconds until she looks up at him, her eyes wide,

“Wait what was that? Did you just cum?” She asks, her voice wavering.

Joel knew he was a bad man when the realization that he was the first man to paint her insides with his seed, makes him rut into her again. Giving short little thrusts, getting the last dregs of his cum inside her walls.

The girl gasps when Joel finally pulls out. He does so slowly, he knows he can be a lot to handle. Especially now that he’s rethinking how experienced she might be.

Breathing heavily, Joel rests with the tip of his cock still pressed against the girl’s seam. She sits up, trying to shift to better see herself. Joel watches with a soft groan when the pearly white fluid pools at the girl’s entrance, before spilling down.

Its thick. And there’s a lot. Joel’s not even sure when the last time he’d had an orgasm was but he must’ve been pretty backed up because now its at risk of staining her parent’s couch.

Joel gathers it with two fingertips, dragging his fingers up her slit before pushing back inside.

Her lip quivers and the shudder that passes through her is one of pleasure, especially when Joel starts to finger her with more rhythm. Pulling her libido back up of the floor, up and running again.

“I am sorry about that. Kinda came outta nowhere. I can get you anything you need.” Joel promises. His sentances are short, but the girl nods, the look on her face showing she understands.

“I might take you up on that,” she says with a sigh at the ministrations Joel’s laying on her.

“But first,” she moans, her knees falling wider, “my parent’s don’t get back til Monday.”

[sea-lanterns]

WETTER 'N BETTER

synopsis: hydro women fu.c.king you inconspicuously at the pool with their vision

featuring: yelan, kokomi, mona, nilou, candace, furina

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab gn reader, semi-public se.x (no one sees but you're at a pool), improper use of hydro vision, strap ons, tentacle play (kokomi), cunnilingus, creative uses for hydro, dirty talk, toys made out of hydro, riding, lap se.x, slight asphyxiation but not really (nilou), may be ooc especially for furina because she was added on a whim.

art credits: what does the fox say

YELAN

Yelan smirked to herself as you stared wide eyed at the water formed dildo she procured from the base of her hips, her hand stroking long, languid strokes from the shaft to the tip, as she watched you tremble above the water’s surface. “Don’t be shy, babe. No one’s gonna know…” she chuckled, her vision vibrating with use as her cock moved with tension. “It’s made completely out of water, it’ll slip right in.”

You gulped and looked around nervously, the late hours of the night meaning that only you two were at the pool, yet something inside you felt that you might get caught. 

“Yelan…I don’t know.” you bit your lip and felt the water stir as Yelan got in. “We might get caught…”

She laughed at your meek words and gently pushed you back until your skin hit the surface of the wall. “But that’s the fun part, baby.” She suddenly hoisted you up with her strength and kept your legs wrapped firmly around her. The tip of her watery cock pressing up against your folds as you whimper and cling to her neck. “It’s okay, no one’s gonna see what I’m doing to you underwater…”

Making sure the two of you were obscured by the giant rock behind you, she groaned and sunk her shaft inside you as the water slipped right inside. The flexible liquid able to hold its shape as it maneuvered in a way that filled your cunt to the brim, leaving every crevice of you fucked and filled till your eyes rolled back and saw white. 

“Nngh! Yelan…fuck—” you grit your teeth as you realize Yelan was filling you to the brim, her cock perfectly shaped to mimic the biggest toy you had, as she slowly rocked her hips back and forth. 

“Feel familiar, my dear?” Yelan purred, pounding her length deeper into you as you felt every molded ridge and curve rub inside. “I didn’t have enough room to pack your favorite strap, but I hope this would suffice…”

She laughs into your neck and slams her hips harder against you, reveling in the way the waves shook from her movements as you cling onto her with need. Nails gripping the skin of your rear while Yelan pounded you just the way she would with a regular strap.

KOKOMI

You shuddered as you felt slippery, cold, tentacles climb up your leg in the water. Kokomi giving you a mischievous smile as the water-made tentacles slithered up to your swimming bottoms and tugged at the elastic. “Kokomi…” you warned, giving her a testing glare. “We’re at a pool.”

“No one will see,” she hummed quietly, perching herself over the edge as she commanded the tentacles to climb higher. Vision glowing by her side as she smiled and watched with anticipation for your reactions, the depth of the pool thankfully covering your body as she playfully teased your pussy lips with a tendril. 

“Ah…wait…” you gripped the edge of the pool and resisted the urge to tremble in front of your priestess, a pleasurable shiver riveting through your skin as you felt one of the tips prod at your entrance. 

“Don’t worry, my love. It’ll practically sink in.” Kokomi giggles as you shiver at the sensation of her tentacles. One of which was currently circling your clit, rubbing and stroking it as if it were just another one of Kokomi’s fingers. “Just think of it as me fingering you…”

Oh how mean Kokomi could be. Toying with your body like this while in a public setting. You were lucky not many people were out swimming, but the thought of being caught in your secluded corner with Kokomi fucking you was too nerve racking for you to enjoy. 

“Just relax, let me take care of you for once.”

At her gentle tone, your body instinctively listened and relaxed in her hold. The watery tentacles sliding directly into your pussy and wrapping around your waist in the process. “Oh, there’s almost no resistance,” Kokomi giggles, a tentacle worming its way into your deepest spots and rubbing so pleasurably inside you. “Guess we’ll be doing this more often…”

With a bashful giggle, Kokomi commands the tentacles to begin thrusting inside you feverishly, one giant tentacle holding you still as your hips rock the waves to the rhythm of her thrusts. 

MONA

“By the stars, they didn’t show me this…”

Mona had dragged you under an artificial waterfall and hidden you away to fuck you in secrecy. She had used her astrology to predict whether or not the pool would be crowded tonight, and her vision had been proven wrong given by how many people were out swimming at this hour. “Ugh, how annoying…” she pushed you up behind the dark cavern and hoped no one would swim behind to see what you were about to do. “We’ll have to go fast.”

Tilting your head back, your girlfriend kissed you before activating her vision to morph a small body of water into a flexible shape. When the water broke the surface tension, Mona crafted it into a small, handheld dildo and giggled at your surprised face. “What? You act like I’ve never done this before,” she laughed and held the makeshift cock in her hand. “I can do a lot more with my vision, you know.”

She grinned at how hot your face was before tugging off your bottoms. “Come on, don’t worry about it not fitting, I can adjust the size however you like…”

In a matter of moments, Mona was holding your swimming bottoms in one hand and the makeshift dildo in the other, moving it downwards to stir the tip against your folds, and teasing it while she prepped you for the intrusion. “I know what you like, my love. It’ll fit right in like the other toys.”

As she eased you with her words, Mona slowly sank the cock into your cunt and sighed in bliss when she felt you part so easily. The astrologist kissing you gently before moving her hand so that the cock could hit you in deeper areas. 

“My my my, my little star. You’re taking it better than when we use a regular toy…” Mona tsked and moved in to kiss your jaw. “And all the little moans you’re making, simply adorable…”

Her voice turned mockingly playful as she moved her hand to speed up the thrusts of the dildo. Shallow waves rocking you two back and forth, while carnal whimpers and moans ripped out from beneath your lips.

“How naughty of you, my little star,” Mona giggles, using her vision to morph ridges on the cock to further stimulate your walls, “We’re not done yet though, water can take on all shapes and sizes…”

NILOU

Above the water, you would appear like any other person chilling by the pool. Below the water however, people would see your girlfriend Nilou on her knees and between your legs with your swimsuit tugged downwards. An air bubble she had created being her only source of air, as she ate you out with lust and passion beneath the waves.

“Mmpf…Nilou…” you tried your best to act casual in front of anyone that passed you by, but Nilou was making it so hard as she pierced her tongue into your folds and lapped at your secreting juices like she was dehydrated. “Not too much, hah…” 

You gently grabbed at her hair from below and gave her a tiny tug. Your girlfriend smiled to herself at your little reaction and just dove her tongue even deeper than before. Who knew Nilou could be such a tease when she wanted to?

Gripping your thighs with her fingertips, Nilou spread you a bit more for her as she eagerly lapped more of your cunt, pushing her face and the air bubble closer to your clit so that her nose could bump against it sensually. Your thighs shook at the sudden touch and you almost lost it above the surface if not for Nilou stabilizing you. “Ah…fuck…”

Nilou wasn’t messing around.

Trying to get yourself off faster, you began grinding your hips against Nilou’s face and took notice at how she gripped your thighs tighter, her gentle tongue now cruising faster between your walls while you forced yourself to maintain sanity. ‘They’re writhing, they’re actually writhing…!’ Nilou thought to herself as she smiled into your cunt. ‘I’m doing such a good job!’

Thrusting her tongue wildly, Nilou moaned into your skin and nearly lost focus of her air bubble. Quickly regaining composure and activating her vision once more to give her another dose of air to keep going.

‘They’re twitching…they’re so close…’

Nilou moaned and felt a warmth engulf her face when you came all over her lips. The dancer swimming back to the surface for a breath of fresh air, before kissing you with exasperated breaths.

“Oh, my love, that was amazing…” she murmured, letting you taste your sweet release on her tongue. “We should do this again, but in a more private setting next time…” 

CANDACE

In the blanket of the night, you and Candace took a dip in the hot tub at the resort you were staying at and were pleasantly surprised to find that it had been empty. Deciding not to waste another moment of this pleasant alone time with your girlfriend, you both threw off your towels and took a dip, sighing blissfully at the heat that absorbed your bodies. 

It’s been a while since Candace had been so relaxed, and the moment her muscles unlocked, she smiled and waved a finger for you to come closer. “Come, dear. Sit on my lap. We haven’t done that in a while.”

You smiled and crawled over to perch yourself just how Candace liked. A playful, slightly sultry smile growing on her lips as she gently raises your hips up over the water. “Up up up, don’t worry, you’ve been in this position before….”

Your cheeks grew warm at her words and you laughed nervously when she lifted you up. “Erm, we don’t have a strap though, babe.” You chuckled, your ass now raised above the water as Candace’s vision glowed. “I know, but it’s good to be creative once in a while.” She smirked and in an instant, a water formed strap had morphed against her pelvis. The tip prodding at your entrance like it was too eager to wait, while Candace looked up at you expectantly with smugness. 

Sure enough, you were amazed. And aroused.

“I see,” you chuckle, slowly rubbing the tip between your walls to begin easing down the liquid shaft. “You’re very creative, my dear guardian.” 

“A true leader needs to be,” Candace hums, helping you slide down her length before you were firmly seated back on her lap. “Now go on, ride me. But don’t make it too obvious, otherwise we’ll get caught.”

She pats your rear lovingly and sits back to look at you while you begin rocking your hips back and forth, sighing blissfully when the watery strap slid flexibly through your walls and brushed against all your favorite areas. “Oh fuck…right there, Candace…”

You leaned over to kiss your beloved while bouncing on her for more. Making out with her in the dimness of the night, while the hot tub’s water successfully concealed just how rough Candace was fucking you.

FURINA

Furina was a tease. An incredibly childish, almost gremlin-like tease who wanted nothing more than to watch you squirm. She sat idly on a lawn chair by the poolside with an innocent smirk plastered on her lips, kicking her legs back as she sipped a virgin pina colada whilst shamelessly controlling the hydro vibrator she stuffed up your swimsuit. Heterochromia eyes staring tauntingly at the way you gripped the water’s edge. 

“What’s the matter?” Furina snickers, stirring the straw of her drink, “Is the water too cold for you, my love? Shall I bring you warmth so you shan’t shiver?” 

When only a strangled moan crawled out your throat, Furina grinned and waved her hand to force the vibrator to squirm faster. The ridges of the morphed hydro toy causing you to buckle over and bury your moan into your lips. ‘Furina…!’ you wanted to scream, the wriggling toy of firm water just too good for you to tolerate. ‘Slow it down…!’

Alas, Furina was not a mind reader and she took your body’s reactions as a sign to go faster, enjoying her little exhibition game with you. “Careful now, dove. You’re making quite the waves with your little trembling…”

She laughed haughtily at your irritated glare and crossed her legs over to make it look like she was your ruler. Even though she was. With one final sip of her drink, she made a mocking “aaah” sound of refreshment before snapping her fingers. “I’m getting bored now, dove. Perhaps it’s time to skip to the main event.”

Her eyes glimmered with mischievous amusement and you felt your stomach flip with anticipation. Here it comes…! Your girlfriend then makes the vibrator squirm deeper inside you and writhe so pleasantly against your spongy walls. The makeshift toy working wonders on that little bundle of nerves as it wormed its way in in a way that had you seeing stars. 

“Oh, Furina…” you whimpered out your liege’s name in passion, the watery vibrator buzzing harder into your sweetest places. “I’m almost…”

Fuck. There was that shit-eating grin again as Furina smiled sadistically and ceased the vibrator’s movements, letting it turn back into water and slide out of your puffy cunt. 

“F-Furina–!”

“Hush now, pet.” Furina snickered, crawling over to the water’s edge and mockingly patting your head. “I want to spend several more hours at the pool so you need to entertain me for a lot longer…”

[valsverse]

‎‎‎‎‎‎⠀⠀(୨୧) STOLEN KISSES AND POMEGRANATE SEEDS⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀. .⠀PAIRING ⠀⟡⠀ percy jackson x child of aphrodite!reader

﹙💌﹚ in which ：as a child of aphrodite, you have a liking for things that are red. roses, pomegranates, percy jackson's lips- wait, what?⠀ ── ⠀ 645⠀requested

THE DROWSY SUMMER SUN bled through the leafy canopy of the oak tree where you and percy sprawled at a weathered picnic table. half-sliced pomegranates littered the space between you, their seeds like tiny rubies glinting in the light, the crimson juice trickling down the oak’s surface, painting it in delicate, sinuous lines of red.

percy moved with practiced ease, his pocket knife flashing as he worked, methodically picking out the seeds for you to savor. slice, halve, pick. slice, halve, pick. you stole glances at him from the corner of your eye, captivated by the way the sunlight played in his dark hair, how his laughter lines carved deeper when he smiled, how his focus sharpened as if each seed were a treasure meant only for you. his hands were steady, deliberate, as he plucked each seed and let it fall into the porcelain, gold-rimmed bowl from which you ate.

breaking from your trance, you nudged him lightly with your elbow. “you know aphrodite was the first to plant pomegranates, right? you ought to thank her later,” you teased, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

percy looked up, his brows arching in exaggerated surprise. “oh? is that right?” he asked, his chin resting on his hand as his knife paused mid-air. his eyes, a stormy sea green speckled with flecks of gold, met yours with an unsettling calm that sent a flutter through your chest—a flutter that had been growing more insistent lately, as if it had a mind of its own. almost annoying.

“of course it is! are you implying otherwise?” you shot back, crossing your arms. you knew he wasn’t, but you seized onto the distraction, anything to escape the warmth growing in your chest.

percy’s smile only curled with a lazy grace as he toyed with the pomegranate seed he picked earlier, his fingers moving idly as his gaze remained fixed on you. he shook his head with an air of dreamy nonchalance, offering no reply, only a sigh that seemed to drift on the air.

“are you even listening?” you teased, laughter laced through your words as you reached out to snatch the seed from his hand. the seed’s cool, slick surface was a stark contrast to the warmth that spread through your fingertips as they brushed against his. percy arched an eyebrow, a mock offense flickering in his eyes, but let you take it, his touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. as the tart sweetness of the pomegranate seed burst on your tongue, you caught the glimmer of something in percy’s eyes—an expression that shifted from surprise to delight. his laugh followed, rich and warm, a melody you'd memorized long ago. “what is it?” you asked, pausing mid-chew, the seed still resting on your tongue as curiosity knit your brows together. “what’s so funny?”

"nothing," percy said, his voice thick with amusement as he tried to catch his breath. "it’s just…" he trailed off, his gaze softening as he leaned in, closing the distance between you. "you’ve got a little something…"

before you could react, he tilted his head and swiped his tongue over the crimson stain of pomegranate juice that had pooled at the corner of your mouth with a deliberate slowness, the touch of his lips sending a shock of warmth through you. and then, as if pulled by a force neither of you could resist, he deepened the kiss, the sharp tang of pomegranate mingling with the heat of his breath, the world narrowing to just this—just him.

his hand cradled your cheek as he finally drew back, his breath still hot against your skin. “there, that's better.” he murmured, a soft smile ghosting across his lips as he held up the pomegranate seed you’d claimed earlier, rolling it between his fingers. “you’re right. i really should thank aphrodite later.”

©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

[centoru]

Geto Suguru is definitely the type to enjoy morning intimacy. More specifically, pleasuring you.

Sleeping with a tank top and your panties on was definitely a way to make him all worked up in the morning.

Suguru would drape the weight of his arms over you as the big spoon. You'd chuckle and greet him a good morning as he would shower you with light kisses with his eyes still closed, spreading from your forehead to the back of your head.

It would all be so tender and warm, until his hand would begin to caress your skin and have a mind of its own. His hand would stroke your skin, squeezing your exposed side of the waist lightly. He would play with the hem of your top as you two exchanged looks, smiling ever-so-warmly as you were both greeted with views of each other. And he would find your face so hard to look at, most especially when the tent in his boxers is beginning to poke you from behind.

You'd raise a brow at him, and he'd only kiss you, inhaling your scent as he'd continue littering kisses from your nape to your spine. He would go back to caressing you, your skin, and sneakily slip his hand into your braless torso. He'd slowly reach up to your chest, slowly trailing down your stomach with two fingers, then trail it back up until he stops onto the underside of your breast. He'd gently cup it, then fondle your breast to earn a gasp from you, he'd play with your sensitive nipple just to hear a soft whimper from you. Even after all this, you dare not to push his hand the slightest.

Suguru would take hints from your reactions and responses to his touch. He'd enjoy every bit of it—well, considering how hard he was getting and that you could practically feel him smile against your skin, he would absolutely find pleasure in it.

Suguru would slowly trace lines on your skin as he searches for the fabric of your underwear. You'd shift your position into something more comfortable, and Suguru would take it as a chance to kiss you deeper.

He would dive into your mouth, angling his face to drink you in better. Suguru would reach for the thin waistband of your panties, he'd play with it by sliding a finger on your hip, then exit when you'd gasp against his mouth.

He'd chuckle every time he earns another reaction, making it difficult for you not to beg to be touched already. As you'd pool under there with desire, your mouth slightly ajar, your eyes filled with so much want, Suguru's lips would form a small smirk.

He'd rub you gently through the thin fabric of your panties which would instantly make your hips buck forward for more friction. He'd find it amusing how pathetic you've become for a touch, but he doesn't blame you for it.

He'd rub you in a circular motion first, teasingly and agonizingly slow, waiting for more sharp thrust of your hips out of pure desperation. He'd find it entertaining when you'd press his hand down with yours, and he'd definitely mock you for being so needy in the morning when he's the one all worked up.

"More," You'd say, you'd beg, Suguru would only chuckle. He'd lift his hand, retreating it until you'd whine from frustration. "More? Baby, the day has just started."

You'd reach for his hand back, putting it on top of your stomach as you'd breathe into his neck as a way of begging. Your eyes closed, your lips pressed against the nook of his neck, his scent lingering around your nose. "Please?"

And that's all it'll take for Suguru to go utterly insane.

He'd tap your clothed clit to earn a slight whimper from you. "Do you want it, baby?" Suguru would ask, and you'd nod vigorously. He'd chuckle then bring two fingers up to your mouth, and you'd instinctively open, indulging in wetting his two fingers before he slips them right inside your panties.

To say you're wet would be an understatement. You'd be soaked, a whole lot of slick dripping for him. Suguru would rub you first, putting slight pressure on your clit before getting tired of the hindrance your panties have made. He'd hastily remove it, his lust obvious in his eyes, yet he'd never forget to be gentle.

You'd widen your legs naturally, Suguru would bring his lips to your chest, then your collarbone, then up to your neck, consuming you completely. Suguru would play with you first, his nails would trail and trace empty touches on your inner thighs before squeezing hard to get you melt into a loud whimper.

Then his fingers would enter you slowly, a groan leaving his as your back would arch, and your mouth with be left agape. He'd smile sinisterly at this, enjoying the view of your chest rising from the first contact, and the sensation of his fingers filling you up. He'd look at you while you'd struggle to face him. "You want it like that, baby?" He'd ask, and you'd nod.

Suguru loved the feeling of your tight and wet pussy caving around his fingers. His hardness would often grind on your bare hip as his desire to fuck you would be more apparent as minutes pass.

His long and slender fingers would go in and out of you in a slow and passionate manner. His fingers would leave your hole to tease your clit, earning a jolt from you, then ravage you by ramming his fingers in and out in such a feverish way. His thumb would playfully graze onto your clit, then press on it to have you moaning louder than before.

He'd latch his lips on your skin, nibbling and sucking harshly to leave marks in places he wanted to see. You'd moan his name, squirming under his touch as he began to overwhelm you with pleasure. You'd reach onto his wrist, your nails digging on his skin as you'd try to squeeze your legs shut.

But he definitely wouldn't allow that. He'd let you have your fun though, but you'd feel him smirk on your skin. He'd part from your neck to hear the loud 'chu' echoing in the four-walled room you both shared, heat rising in every part of it. You'd try to close your legs, and he'd breathe in your ears.

"Thought you wanted this? How am I supposed to touch you now?" Suguru would chuckle lowly in your ears, letting his wrist get squeezed in between your soft, milky thighs. Then, he'd go teasingly slow again, making you whimper in frustration. "Open your legs, darling."

You'd oblige even in immense sensitivity. You'd open your legs slowly, breathing heavily, and trembling slightly. Suguru would smirk, kissing the back of your ear before indulging in your pussy once more. He'd praise you by littering kisses on your neck, until he'd use his other hand to cup your cheeks and face him.

"Good girl." He'd whisper against your lips as his fingers reached deeper in you. You'd whimper against his lips and arch your back from the sensation, and he'd immediately latch his mouth on you.

He'd purposely do it fast just so you could struggle in kissing him back. Suguru definitely liked it like that. With the way he's pleasuring you, it wouldn't be a miracle for you to orgasm. You'd release all over his fingers, cumming with a shudder, panting endlessly, and Suguru would bring his cum-coated fingers up to his lips with you watching. He'd suck it clean, he'd definitely enjoy how your eyes would darken in the same desire he had, too.

"Sweet as ever." He'd tell you, then shower you with praises. His boner won't go unnoticed though. He'd buck his hips forward, and you'd press a palm on it. You'd smirk against his chest as he'd look at you, an expression you can't quite read, but it was familiar when he'd fuck you up at night.

Suguru would grind his clothed bulge on your bare pussy, still sensitive and wet from the remains of your cum. You'd shiver from the feeling, and Suguru would press on it harder.

Suguru would look up at you from burying his face into your breasts, a small mischievous smirk creeping onto his face as he continued to grind on you. He'd bring his hand down to your clit again, ignoring that you were still quite sensitive. Suguru would rub his boner on your folds, his fingers would play with your clit to heighten the pleasure and sensation, his tongue would flicker against your hardened nipples. He'd look at you while he did all this, loving every bit of reaction you showed him.

Suguru would whisper against the meeting point of your breasts, kissing it as he'd hook your legs open, lifting it up to meet his boner better. "My turn?"

[dark-moonlust]

A Better Use for Your Mouth

Pairing: Dragon monster x human f!reader

Summary: you are bored and you decide to go tease your dragon mate which gives him ideas about using your mouth.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, explicit monster smut, huge 🍆, oral (male receiving), lots of come that leads to belly bulge. Don’t like, don’t read.

It was a quiet evening. Too quiet actually.

The lair was silent, your mate Eryndor was studying some ancient scrolls and practicing his dragon magic. You sat on the edge of the grand bed, staring at the ceiling. You were bored and you missed him. You dragon mate was wonderful but once he started studying his magic, he lost track of time. You were certain he was once again entranced in his books and scrolls.

With a mischievous grin on your face, you hurried to the big library and peeked your head inside. Your dragon didn’t take notice of you and you let your eyes caress his image. Eryndor was sitting on his back legs, studying some ancient scrolls while weaving fiery magic with his clawed hands. He was a sight to behold; huge and towering, his scales shimmering like molten gold. He had a horned face, a strong jaw with sharp teeth, amber eyes and a body that exuded power and grace.

“I can smell you, little mate,” he drawled and turned to you, his voice vibrating delightfully.

Smiling, you sauntered over to him, letting your fingers trail along his body, feeling the heat of his scales. “Eryndor,” you purred, leaning in close, “do you really have to study those old scrolls right now?”

He chuckled, the hint of a smile playing at maw. “Are you trying to distract me, pretty mate?”

“Perhaps,” you answered, your fingers dancing lower, tracing his underbelly and over the slit that concealed his cock. “How about you take a break? We could talk.”

Eryndor’s eyes darkened. “Talk? Hmm… I have some ideas…”

“Including talking?” you prodded suggestively.

“Including using your lovely mouth.”

“That sounds exciting, dragon.”

Eryndor tossed away the scrolls with a sharp thump. He sat on his back legs and gently pulled you to your knees between them.

“You have my attention, little one,” he said, his voice a velvet purr.

A huge clawed hand, as big as your head guided you down, with such gentle care and love. His other hand toyed with your plump lips as his thick, impressive cock emerged from its protective slit. Your mouth watered at the sight; his shaft was long and thick, covered by ridges. The head was flared and tipped with breads of moisture. The sheer size of him made your pussy clench, warmth pooling in your belly.

You cupped the base with both hands and wrapped your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the sensitive tip and licking the precum. Eryndor let out a low groan, his grip tightening slightly as you took him deeper, inch by inch. His cock was a challenge— you couldn’t wrap your hands around him nor take him fully in your mouth. But you could pleasure him, he’d taught you what and how he liked his cock to be pleasured.

“That’s it,” he growled approvingly, his voice thick with arousal. “Such a good mate. Show me how deep you can take me, precious.”

Nodding fervently, you lowered yourself on his dick, taking the whole cockhead, your eyes fluttering up to meet his glinting gaze. Eryndor looked so pleased and aroused so you pressured yourself to go a little further, hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard. You heard his growl of approval and shivered pleasurable as he gently petted your hair while you worked your mouth over his length.

“Such a pretty sight and such a good little mouth,” he rumbled, watching his cock fill your mouth, your lips stretched around him.

You moaned around his cock and relaxed your throat, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. Then you pulled his cock out of your mouth, which was now coated in your saliva and dove back down on it. Eryndor’s breathing grew heavier, his body jerking slightly. Your slurpy sounds and his growls reverberated through the lair. You pumped your mouth over him, tongue lavishing attention on every ridge and all around the sensitive cockhead.

“Such a beautiful mate,” he praised, his voice strained. “Taking me so well. Are you ready, mate? Ready for your dragon’s cum?”

“Mph… ‘m ready—” you could hardly speak with his cock in your mouth.

“Will you swallow everything down like a good girl? Keep it in your belly?”

“All of it—mphhh—” you muttered, your head bobbing up and down on his shaft. “Gonna swallow it all.”

With a menacing growl, Eryndor’s claws tightened in your hair, gently holding you in place as he thrust gently, your throat stretching to accommodate his girth. You gagged because he was so deep, your mouth too full of him. With a final, deep thrust, he spilled into your mouth, his cock pulsing erratically. He released load after load of his seed, and you swallowed eagerly, the taste of him filling you completely. It was too much—it always was, but you licked every single drop, until your belly was bulging with his seed.

When he finally stopped cumming, you drew back, gasping for air, your lips swollen and glistening with his essence. You cupped you swollen belly and sighed; fuck, that was one good session. You called when he ripped your clothes, his draconian eyes caressing your form.

“How about I lick your pretty drenched pussy now? Hm?” His voice was a sensual purr.

You opened your legs wide, an eager smile on your lips. “Yes, my dragon,” you whispered. “Oh, yes please.”

I hope you enjoyed!! Please show some love to your content creators by reblogging or sharing your views. Hearing from you is what inspires us! 🖤

[muzanswaifu]

Hashira & Uppermoon hcs (18+)

Anon: Reader trying to crawl away when her orgasm is approaching due to intense feeling

Fem/Afab! Reader

Warnings: Smut, some suggested dubcon/noncon situations, doggy style, missionary, cunnilingus, fingering, tribbing, 69, mating press, ect, breeding kink, squirting, yandere themes, suggested violence, overstimulation, edging

Gyomei (Doggy style)

Hes so big, its no wonder you get so overwhelmed

You wait for the moment his massive length stops pumping his release in you, threads of cum stretching between your swollen cunt lips and his leaking slit, you push yourself up from your spread position on your tummy, hands clawing at the sheets desperately to get away

The fucking you could handle, it was difficult, definitely taking a toll on your delicate body, but what you weren’t expecting was for him to finish before you, filling you up so much that the hot pool of sperm pushed tightly at your belly from the inside

You’d finally reached an end of the mattress before monstrously large hands grabbed around your waist, tugging you back and forcing a sob from your throat

He gives a soft apology for finishing so quickly and not giving you a proper warning, promising to make it up to you

You beg him to give you a break, pleading for him to use your mouth instead, anything

He denies your offer, insisting that he bring you to climax once more, twice more, a thousand times more

You’re strong, he insists, you can take it

Tengen (Missionary)

Hell, hes used to it, your so goddamn sensitive all the time its not like hes suprised

A chuckle fills your ears as your weak limbs claw away, exhausted but adamant about escaping

He humors you, letting you get at least a couple feet away from him before pouncing on you again

His voice is sickening sweet as he picks you up once more, molding your hips against his in a steep arch that allows him to sink into you, your insides promptly taking shape and milking him for all he's worth

You whine aloud, muttering soft pleas and begs for him to go easy on you, for him to get you off gently rather than ripping them out of you one after the other

He laughs manically

Fat chance

By the time he's done with you, you better be dumb and pliant, begging for him to unload inside you until he's fully satisfied, don't be selfish

Shinobu (Cunnilingus and fingering)

Rolls her eyes as you try to push her way and escape, her lips and fingers only working faster on your twitching pussy in retaliation to your little rebellion

She honestly thinks you're being a tad bit dramatic, don't you think? She's only had her mouth on you for a couple minutes and your already squirming and crying

She pretends to care though, cooing at you to just bear through it a bit longer, you're so close aren't you?

Her lips suck harder at your clit, her fingers digging deeper in your g-spot, stars sparking in your vision

You don't wanna come again, you don't wanna "squirt" or whatever she called it when your juices sprayed out and made a mess last time

Sobs echo through the room as she continues, her tongue swirling over your little bead over and over again, right under the hood where it almost hurts how good it feels

Its a good thing she tied you to bed this time, otherwise you probably would've gotten away since Shinobu probably wasn't strong enough to stop you, but she planned this, schemed this

She moans shamefully loud when you finally drench her face in your sweetness, liquid shooting all over her mouth and neck as your legs shake violently in release, she licks her lips of the delectable nectar

Oh that was so beautiful - again?

Iguro (fingering)

Couldn't give a shit, did you have to be so loud and annoying about it? Just shut up and take it

He does go a little slower though, dragging out the agony that builds in your gut with every fucking second

His fingers are devilishly skilled, each digit curling painfully perfect against your g-spot and creation such a delicious stretch against your walls, but each sensation just built one atop the other, making all of it just that much more unbearable

He doesn't even give you a break, instead holding you down with his legs keeping your thighs spread for his torturous touch

It honestly turns him on how desperately you're trying to escape, though he'd never admit it given he disproved of his own sadistic desires, but if he could he'd want it like this always, you tied down and begging for release of both kinds while he denied you of either

Before you could reach the end, however, he tears his hand away, letting you wallow in the pit of frustration and despair, hell it was probably his fault you were so painfully sensitive since he'd been edging you like this for what felt like several hours now

But god did you look so hot like this, so irresistible, he wondered if you could come from just a breath on your delicate little clit now as he pet along the side of your labia, making your hips jump against his hand for one more second of touch where you needed it the most

After a few moments he returned to the peak of your sex, rubbing softly and relishing your sniffles as he wondered how many more times he should tease you

Mitsuri (Tribbing)

Oh lord she's so sweet

Apologizes for being too much for you and forcing you to have to crawl out from under her just to get a break

Promises she'll be softer, better, and will take care of you like you, her princess, deserves

You sniffle at her kind vow, nodding your head stupidly with what small amount of brain you have left and she giggles

She resumes position, tribbing your cunts together reverse cowgirl while your thighs are pressed out over your sides under the weight of her ass, your juices mix together like a fine wine, flowing down onto the sheets in a dewy puddle that has mitsuri mewling

You can hear the slick sounds the friction makes, her wet sex against yours, her lips sliding against your clit like a carnal whisper, each rock makes you shiver, your climax building up so slowly and torturously you cry

she looks over her shoulder with a gentle expression, a glowing redness spread across her cheeks, admiring the roll of your eyes to the back of your skull as you finally, finally, shatter

Your so cute like this, she thinks, so adorable and precious

She can't help but continue, rolling her hips atop yours to bring out several screams from your shrill throat, she just can't help it

Tomioka (Grasshopper)

Ignores it

He doesn't at all mind when you try to flee from him, as he quickly catches you without any effort at all and brings you back down to bed with him, though he does find it rather inconvenient when he knew you were so, so close to sweet release

It had been quite a while since your last coupling so he was confident this was well needed for you, and he'd be damned if he let your own naive body keep you from satisfaction

He'd pull you back down to his embrace, making sure to securely wrap his arms around your waist this time so you couldn't move an inch, and absolutely go to town, thrusting so hard and fast that you were sure your insides would bruise

None-the-less, you would be forced to take it, unable to break through his strength, each stroke hitting your sweet spot near your cervix with crippling precision

Your sobs rose in volume as your body was forced over each wave of pleasure, rising and rising and rising but not yet allowing you to tumble over even though you so desperately needed to

But Giyu was merciful, taking care of you so viciously and forcing your greedy little cunt to succumb to bliss even as it rebelled against what had to be your strongest climax yet

Only when he'd bottomed out, grounding his base into yours in deep swivel did you finally break, crying with hot tears and clenching at the sheets, your stubborn body screaming as he continued pumping

Did you think he was done?

Rengoku (Cunnilingus)

He finds your attempts absolutely adorable, so amusing, even if they were futile since he'd tied each of your hands to the bedpost and had your ankles and thighs knit together to keep you bent and exposed, his own powerful arms curled around your hips to keep you spread for him to feast on

Pure ecstasy filled him every time you came into his mouth, with the occasional spurt of sweet honey all over his jaw and face when he was being especially eager

But it was only a matter of time before your little pussy would reject the need to finish, being so used to satisfaction that you were kept at a constant of sensitivity and edging

Perhaps it was his fault for making you finish so many times (it was), but he'd be awful if he left you in such a state with no end, even if you begged him over and over to just leave you be and give you rest, he knew you couldn't possibly mean it

He'd make sure to give you attention where you needed it the most, flicking his tongue over your dripping folds, wrapping his lips around your throbbing bead, licking into your convulsing hole

Each sound you make is a gift from god, your pained cries for mercy only edging him on further to lavish your little kitty with attention, she was begging for it

Eventually, after several long whiles of eating you, you start to feel the draws of climax creeping up on you, but this one felt stronger, more pain than pleasure with how horribly sensitive you were, with clenched fists pulling at his locks you begged him to stop, the plea falling on deaf ears, honestly even if he were to listen how would he hear with your thighs squeezing his head?

Pain seared through your veins as your nethers clenched, his tongue never ceasing its vigorous swiping even as you screamed out your demise, juices gushing out of your and staining his face in such a lovely sheen, he licked his lips and yours clean

Sanemi (69)

Its absolutely infuriating that you were being so finicky

Hell, you hadn't even made him come yet and were already trying to ditch? Yah, fuck that

He should've known you'd get all fussy after he'd made you come the first time with his tongue, your own stuttering on his cock before grazing your teeth as your jaw began to lock with the overstimulation

Honestly how was he supposed to react when you tried to crawl off of him to freedom? Was he supposed to beg you to come back? Comfort you and give you a break? Fuck that weak shit, if he needed attention, you were gonna give it to him, and take it

With a strong thigh wrapped over the back of your head to keep your throat impaled on his length and thick hands anchoring your pussy to his face, he was in absolute paradise

He almost laughed when he felt your teeth whisper against his cock again, you no doubt having the urge to bite down as he lathered his tongue all over your cunt over and over again, paying careless and heady attention to your little clit

He rolled his hips on occasion to jostle his dick in your mouth, thoroughly enjoying the way your throat would tighten around him and your bud would twitch between his lips

It was only after you'd finally relaxed on top of him, likely having lost consciousness from the combination of pleasure and lack of oxygen, that he filled your mouth with seed, but even then, why not another round?

Kokushibo (Mating Press)

Upper 3 finds great offense to your lack of gratefulness and pursuit of escape, who were you to deny him?

With a deepening hold, he only pounds into you harder, sending sparks upon sparks of pleasure through your body despite the bruises forming on your abused bodice

His cock slams hard into your cervix, bruising the delicate tissue and bulging out of your stomach in a overwhelming sight, you're comparably smaller frame can't even begin to take it, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the ledge of a release that quite honestly scares you

But each time you beg for him to be more gentle, to stop, to let you go, he only becomes more vicious, unforgiving, cruel

You're lucky, had he cared about you any less he would've broken a limb or two to make you stop struggling, but being the generous man he is, he allows you to continue making a fool of yourself, your weak little hits doing nothing but drive him further off the wall with rage

Your sobs only increase in frequency as you get closer, your eagerness to get free becoming more desperate

Pushing the backs of your knees further into the ground, he quickens his already hellish pace, his pelvis slapping into yours violently and abusing your tender clitoris that, regardless of everything, throbbed for attention

When your pleasure pain finally peaks with a hot rush of juices squirting out to drench his pelvis and thighs, only then does he ease on you (hardly), slowing his pace slightly to ride out the delicious clench of your cunt around his member, your reward being a generous few flicks to your clit, making the hypersensitivity just that much more unbearable

Douma (Thigh job)

He finds grief with your overstimulated cries and grasps for relief, chastising himself for overindulging on such a poor creature as yourself, he apologizes sincerely, hoping he didn’t hurt you too much

Its not your fault, you poor thing, he can hardly handle his own carnal needs himself, and he much less expected you to be able to keep up

Truly he’d thought such a position as this would be easier for you, with the lack of penetration and gentler handling, though perhaps it was a bit much considering how teasing each pass of his shaft was over your sensitive little bundle of nerves

He tries to ease up, he does, but how can he contain himself? Your thighs and pussy feel oh so good wrapped around his swollen cock, the perfect mixture of slick and friction, second to that of your insides of course

So eventually he chooses to ignore your tries of escape, instead opting to coo down at you, comforting you through the waves of pleasure that he knows will soon lead to your orgasm

He can feel how your holes convulses, your clit twitches, your thighs tighten, its nearly painful how hard you're pressed around him, not even a gap of space left between your legs other than the one his cock is occupying

Finally he feels it, your shudder of tension before your body seizes in a tantrum of euphoria, he can see the way your hands grip the sheets, the way your spine quivers, the way your mouth gapes open in scream after scream, hell his followers must think he's murdering someone in here!

He eventually follows suit, cum spraying across your body in thick ropes that he pumps out with each pass of his hips into your spent ones, your body twitches weakly and you whine as he continues to use your oversensitive folds

Who can blame him? You feel so good!

Akaza (Spider-man)

He laughs manically seeing you trying to escape, your weak little body looking so pitiful between his powerful thighs

Honestly it was a miracle you'd lasted this long with him, but he found satisfaction in the fact that the pleasure he'd brought you was so overwhelming that your stupid little brain thought it'd be a good idea to flee from a god such as himself

He'd had half a mind to let you and watch you run away with so much cum running down your legs that you'd likely slip in it, stupid thing

But he'd trashed that idea when he'd heard your cries rise, more tears and saliva pooling down your face, he wanted to hear what your voice sounded like when you came again, what your face looked like, what your cunt felt like

He thrust into you faster, trailing a hand from where it was hugging your thigh to his chest down to where your little clit lie

He brushed over it quickly, relishing your shrill cries of grief and despair as your nerves lit on fire, more laughter filling your ears

It wasn't long before you finally snapped, your pussy chocking around him and spewing hot liquid across his thighs, it was bliss feeling you milk him and hearing your broken voice scream so loud his ear drums nearly burst in time with his seed that flooded your insides

Yes, he rather enjoyed this, perhaps he should let you escape next time and see how that plays out as well

[lou-struck]

Made With Love Part 4

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.4

Featuring: Diavolo, Barabatos, and Solomon.

MASTERLIST !

Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc.

A/n: I know it has taken me wayyy too long to post this, but thank you to everyone who has encouraged me to continue this series. I really hope you enjoy this part and chose to come back to read the finale!

The Banquet Hall has exploded into quite the mess. Books and pillows are strewn about the room as Mammon and a still-drying Levi tear through its nooks and crannies with fearful urgency. 

"Keep searching," Lucifer orders his younger brothers from his seat. His symptoms have somewhat subsided, but even in this urgent situation, his Pride would never allow him to be seen recklessly tearing through the castle's cupboards like an idiot. "Beel hasn't eaten anything in hours. Once he recovers, he will devour anything he comes across. If he ends up eating another one of those cookies accidentally, Mc will have even more of a mess to clean up than they currently do. 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Mammon groans. "This would be a lot easier if I had some help." He mutters the second part under his breath while shooting daggers at Satan and Asmodeus. 

From the loveseat in the corner, The Avatar of Wrath flinches in pain at the slightest noise as he recovers from the Potion's hangover-esque after-effects. A large pillow rests in front of his face, shielding his eyes from the glare of the moonlight that shines through the windows. 

Asmodeus on the other hand, is faring much better than his brother and is just boredly twirling a lock of his champagne colored hair in his fingers. His ability to rally after years of partying has prepared him for this. 

Feeling the three pairs of eyes now resting on him, the Avatar of Lust hides a grin and sinks deeper into his cushion with a dramatic groan. "Oh nooo, I feel soooo sick." He lifts an arm and places the back of his hand on his head in a distressed manner. 

Not caring for his brother's theatrics, Lucifer rolls his eyes and lets out a deep sigh of disappointment. "Stop complaining, Mammon; we have had time to recuperate, and so shall they. "

Before Mammon can complain further about the other's work ethic, Satan mutters something incomprehensible from under his pillow. 

"What was that, Satan?" Lucifer asks, lowering his voice as an act of mercy towards his brother; the Potion affected his head far more than the others, so he cannot help but pity the fourth born for the headache he is feeling.

He removes the pillow to reveal his pained and pale features. "I said Beel is close, and so is Belphie; it seems they are traveling together, so it is safe to say they have both been freed from the love potion."

"Then there is no time to waste," Lucifer declares, crossing his arms. "Double time Mammon. And Leviathan, please stay off the furniture; I'd hate to cause any more damage due to your carelessness."

The Avatar of Envy covers his face in embarrassment as he recalls his earlier interaction with you. And he understands pulling you into the pool with him could've been dangerous, even deadly. His head spins as he tries to think of all the ways he will try and make it up to you.

Mammon drops to a crouch and tears open the cabinet drawers with a start. His worried features brighten into a look of elation as he lunges forward suddenly. "Ah ha, I found 'em." he slides the little plate of sugar cookies out victoriously." That damn Chihuahua must've stashed ‘em here when we were going all crazy for Mc."

"What should we do with them?" Levi asks, "If we throw them away, Beel will just eat them out of the trash."

"We could burn 'em? Ya know? Toss 'em in the fireplace?" Mammon offers, turning his head to the grand fireplace. Enchanted flames dance eagerly within the confines of their stone hearth.

"And make the potion airborne?" Satan questions, narrowing his eyes at the second, and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Absolutely not. You are such an Idiot."

"Seriously Mammon, you do know that you don't have to choose between being pretty and being smart." Asmo quips, "But it would be a good idea to do at least one of them."

Mammon opens his mouth to make some kind of comeback but is interrupted as Lucifer snatches the plate of tainted sugar cookies from him. 

"I will create a temporary solution for these cookies until we have a safe method for disposing of them." He flicks his wrist, and a dark sphere of energy encases the plate as it disappears from view. Mammon lets out an involuntary shudder when he realizes that Lucifer could very well make him disappear like that whenever he feels like it. Maybe he should try and return those records of his he was going to pawn off.

Just as the last of the plate fades away, the Banquet door bursts open, and Beel steps into the room urgently, a napping Belpheghor clinging to his back like a koala.

The Avatar of Gluttony looks famished, there is a ferocious hunger in his eyes that seems to only be searching for sustenance. He doesn't even seem to notice his other brothers are in the room.

"I. Need. Food." he breathes, zeroing in on the full banquet table of treats. The mahogany legs seem to tremble under his hungry gaze as he grabs the nearest platter of sandwiches and begins shoveling them into his mouth. 

The room is silent as they watch Beel chow down on a second try of sandwiches. He even eats the little heart-shaped toothpicks that stick out of the top of the mini brioche rolls.

As the sixth-born reaches for another try, his features look much more pleasant. Lucifer clears his throat to get his attention.

"Glad to see you both have  returned to your usual selves." He says, "Hopefully, you didn't cause Mc too much trouble."

Beel's face takes on an expression of guilt as he lowers the barely conscious Belphegor onto an open chair. 

"I broke a wine bottle, but it's fine. Mc found me and convinced me not to go on a hike." The youngest brother from his seat. He hasn't opened his eyes yet. The pure exhaustion of ignoring his sin and running about the castle has hit him far worse than any symptom would've.

"And why do you look so guilty, Beelzebub?" Satan asks, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat.

"I didn't mean to, but they gave me a piggyback, and I think they overdid it." He says, casting his eyes to the floor. "I'm a lot stronger than they are; I could've really hurt them."

No one has it in them to give Beel a scolding. The kicked-puppy expression on his face says it all. 

"So all Mc has to do is find Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon?" Mammon says, letting out a sigh of relief. "That means this nightmare is almost over."

"While it is true Mc has done a great job finding everyone so far, the others are unpredictable," Lucifer says, crossing his arms. "I hope that they take their time and make sure they are not putting themselves at risk."

"Especially with Simeon," Levi adds with a shiver, "He’s final boss status for sure."

"He was super hot, not gonna lie." Asmo giggles, kicking his feet and tucking his hair behind his ear.

~

"Oh, come on, it's gotta be in here somewhere." Luke cries as he finishes searching through another stack of books with no luck. It's like the potion book that Solomon used earlier has vanished into thin air.

His little cherub cheeks are red, his hair is disheveled, and he thinks he has caught a head cold from breathing in all this dust.

"I need water." He murmurs weakly. His knees buckle as he drags himself over to the faucet so he can pour himself a quick drink.

He drinks greedily from his little paper cup, downing the cold water in one gulp and immediately reaching to refill it. This little water break does wonders for the Angel, and he takes a deep breath, ready to continue his quest to find the book and make an antidote for his friends. 

He sets his little cup down on the countertop to use later, and his eyes rest upon something that makes his heart want to break. 

An open recipe book

This cannot be happening…

Luke winces as he timidly lifts the corner of the book to read the cover. Ensure enough, it is the same book he has been searching for for hours.

Instead of being tucked away on some shelf or miscellaneous pile of books, Solomon never actually put this book away, it has been out on the counter in plain sight.

How is it possible that he didn't check here first?

The Angel can feel hot tears of humiliation pulling in his big eyes and he clenches his little fits together so hard he feels like he's about to break the skin.

But he can't cry. How could he?

Back at the castle, you must be subjected to some terrible horrors; he imagines you running through the dark halls of that spooky castle, getting chased until you are out of breath, and then captured by those demons with those creepy heart-shaped eyes. 

He flips through the book, reading with a speed that would make even Satan proud as he looks for an antidote. 

He finds a recipe and wastes no time pulling each ingredient out of Solomon's storage room. He may not know what half of this stuff does, but what he does know is that when all of the stuff comes together, it will create exactly what he needs to break the spell.

Luke begins mashing some herbs with a mortar and pestle, just the way Solomon taught him to do so. He cannot tell if it is the bitter scent of the herbs upsetting his stomach or his own worries.

If he manages to successfully make the antidote, will the others be mad at him for ruining the day?

What if Mc gets hurt? It would be all his fault.

He pours a bit of devil pine sap into the foggy mixture with a sigh. Whatever punishment he is given, he will accept with open arms.

He will do whatever it takes to make it up to you.

Barbatos~

Now you understand how Theseus felt inside of King Minos's labyrinth. All these dark, winding hallways and flickering shadows that just love to play tricks on you have your poor heart beating anxiously in your chest.

Technically, in Greek mythology terms, you have a one-up on Theseus since you have four Minotaurs to "defeat." 

A large cloud covers the moon, sending a shiver down your weary spine as you wonder who you will find next.

The Prince of Hell?

His Trusty Butler, who controls time itself?

The Cunning Human Sorcerer?

Or the Angel the others seem to be very afraid of?

Although you should be scared out of your wits, you are brimming with curiosity as you wonder how your loved ones have changed due to the Love Potions effects. 

Your tired feet drag you down another hallway. Like all the others, it is spotless, and every door is darkened and shut. You scan each one carefully, trying to find any sign someone has wandered through them today with little luck. 

The next thing you know, your steps are interrupted when you kick into something awkwardly and stumble forward, lurching toward the wall and grabbing onto it for support. 

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and wearily glance back at whatever it was that you just tripped over.

There, in the middle of the pristine carpet, lies a lone leather shoe. The tense muscles in your back stretch uncomfortably as you crouch down and pick up the obstacle. As you hold it in your hand, you cannot help but notice its style. It's nothing like the shoes you and Asmo see when window shopping down Majolish. It's clearly older but remarkably well-maintained. 

Its old leather is polished with an expert hand, and its dark untied laces sit unmarred by a single fray. These can only belong to Barbatos.

Come to think of it, his chambers are fairly close by. Is it possible that he lost his shoe on the way there?

In a castle as ginormous as this, leads are hard to find, so you and the shoe head off in search of its owner as you play out this little Demonic Cinderella Story.

Barbatos' room contains many dangers, so the fact that his door sits ajar makes your skin crawl. You push the door open gently with one hand and spot the demon resting atop his quilt. 

His legs hang off the mattress, and aside from the shoe currently in your hand, he is completely dressed. Seeing the usually pristine-looking Butler so out of sorts is unfamiliar. You know he often works himself past the point of exhaustion, but you have never seen him look so open, so unguarded.

Love Potion aside, you know he needs a little bit more rest. A gentle smile tugs at your lips as you start across the room and sit on the edge of the bed. Setting his shoe on the nightstand next to you. The mattress dips slightly, but he continues to sleep. His chest rises and falls steadily, and cute little puffs of air escape his open lips.

His cheeks are flushed a soft baby pink color as his body seems to shift magnetically closer to you. He may not be conscious, but he definitely is aware of your presence.

"Mmnnnm Mc," his sleep-addled voice murmurs as his hand stretches blindly across the mattress to brush yours. The minimal contact is just enough to stir him. His Green eyes blink open sleepily; you see your reflection in his heart-shaped pupils as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

In an instant, he gently tugs you into his chest. It's far warmer than it normally is as he settles you both deeper into the mattress. "Mc," he yawns fondly. "I was just dreaming about you. I knew you would come to see me." 

"I hope you don't mind me letting myself in," you say softly, using your unoccupied fingers to busy themselves with fixing his bedhead. "But I believe I found something of yours." You jerk your head toward the shoe you found earlier with a smile. 

"Oh, that troublesome thing," he chuckles, his lids growing heavier by the second. "Earlier, I just felt so fatigued I chose to simply kick it off."

"In the middle of the Hallway? That's unlike you."

"It's silly, but~" he yawns and leans into your touch. "I simply do not care for trivial things such as messes and responsibilities. All I need is you. Please come rest with me."

His words seem to form a lasso around your heart; it pulls you towards him instantly. "I suppose a few moments of rest wouldn't hurt." You chuckle, leaning back onto the mattress. Barbatos clings to you eagerly, snuggling into you for warmth. A look of pure contention lies on his face.

Butler's bed is remarkably comfortable. The mattress and quilt are stuffed with some kind of otherworldly feather. Simply laying down upon them is a decadence. You imagine that if you knew you had a bed as heavenly as this to return to at the end of the night, you would work as hard as he does to earn the pleasure.

All of your aches and pains seem to melt away in the butler's arms. With each breath he takes, he seems to bring you closer to him.

He can barely keep his eyes open. Seeing him in a state of exhaustion is fascinating. "You must've been exhausted," you say aloud. "You work way too hard, Barbatos."

"I'm a fool." he yawns. "I have wasted so much of my existence doing chores when all I should've been doing is laying here with you. This blissful feeling is incomparable. We should stay here forever."

"Forever is a long time," you murmur, toying with his gloved fingertips. "You may get tired of laying around all the time."

"Not if I'm with you," he yawns again. The dreamy lift in his voice kinda creeps you out, but the Butler is too enthralled by the spell to notice the shiver that crawls down your spine.

"Let's just lay here and watch the dust float around us as we bask in the pleasure of each other's warmth."

Okay…. That's it.

Although these uncharacteristic words may have escaped his drowsy mouth, that is not the real Barbatos speaking. He may need to rest more, but you know that you have to break this spell on him as soon as possible.

"That sounds amazing," you lie in a soft voice. "If we are to spend forever like this, can I at least have a kiss goodnight?"

The offer of a kiss is enough to get him to pry open his eyes. "Of course, you may. I apologize for not doing so earlier." His movements are slow and perhaps the most uncoordinated yet as he tries to scoot closer to you. Sitting up is a challenge for him, but when he finally succeeds in doing so, he can barely keep his head up. A silly smile rests on his face as he leans in to try and place a kiss on your lips, but thanks to the effects of the Potion, he almost completely misses your mouth, only managing to kiss the corner of your lips. 

Like Lucifer, it only takes a few seconds and the briefest contact of lips on the skin to break the spell. His eyes go wide, and his posture returns to perfect as he springs from his bed in alarm. 

"My goodness, Mc, what time is it?" he breathes, smoothing out a wrinkle from his quilt and fluffing the pillow anxiously. "I fear I have failed in my duties as a butler, how fares the celebration?"

You look at him nervously, worried that if you say the wrong thing, you'll send him into a heap of distress. He works too hard to plan these parties for them to end up the way they do. "Lucifer and his brothers are back in the banquet hall, recovering from the effects of the spell you were under. Apparently, only I can lift the effects, so I need to find Solomon, Simeon, and Diavolo." 

He nods solemnly, "I see, so the young master is still entranced. There is no time to waste if the Devildom were to see him in this…well…. State, It could cause quite the uproar." His cheeks flush a barely noticeable pink color as he recalls his earlier actions before clearing his throat. "The crown should not have to shoulder this sort of embarrassment; allow me to accompany you in retrieving him and the others."

"While I appreciate the offer, I'm afraid I'll have to refuse. Everyone is acting so unpredictably that I'd hate for anything to happen. I promise I have this handled."

His eyes flash with disappointment, but it quickly fades and a smile more genuine than his usual polite one shines at you reassuringly. He takes your hand and gently presses his lips to the back of it. "I understand, if that is your wish, I will do as you say. Please know that I believe in you wholeheartedly."

"Thank you, Barbatos," you say, taking in his slightly paler skin. The after-effects of the Potion must be hitting him about now. "I do have a favor I would like to ask you."

His eyes are full of wisdom and adoration as he looks at you with his usual round pupils. "Of course, what is your request? I would gladly do anything you ask of me."

You smile devilishly, "it would mean a lot to me if you would take some time and rest. You work far too hard, and I can tell that you aren't feeling your best."

He looks shocked, "but the mess."

"Can be taken care of later. But for now, please return to the banquet hall and do something good for yourself."

He takes a deep breath and relents. "If that is what you wish, I suppose I could partake in a little bit of what Asmodeus calls 'self-care.'"

"That's what I like to hear." You grin as he escorts you to the door. Just before you exit, you feel his presence behind you. The gesture is tender. He places a Soft kiss on the top of your head.

"Thank you for always caring about my well-being." He murmurs, "I pride myself in being good at many things, But tending to my own needs has never been one of them. It touches my heart that you continuously take the time to worry about me."

"And it makes me feel good to know that you allow me to care for you," you respond, wrapping your arms around the Butler; you feel him relax in your hold as he lets out a soft chuckle, wondering what this demon did to deserve your love.

Diavolo~

You may not be a world-class detective, but you have a hunch…

If Barbatos ended up returning to his bedroom after getting spelled, maybe someone found their way into Diavolo's quarters. 

Surely, someone would want to enjoy the amenities the Prince of Hell's bedroom has to offer, especially if they aren't thinking the clearest at the moment. 

You haven't even reached his massive double doors when your suspicions are confirmed. The shuffles of heavy footsteps seem to pace back and forth anxiously. You can tell from the light flickering under the door frame that someone is standing just on the other side of the darkened oak doors. 

You hold your breath and curiously press your ear against the wood to try and make out who is waiting for you. But your cheek had barely brushed the surface of the wood when the doors (that may not have been completely shut) swings open, and you tumble forward into the Prince's bedroom, letting loose a surprised screech that surely would put a banshee to shame. 

Your limbs are sprawled across the deep red carpet when you make eye contact with the heart-shaped pupils of none other than Lord Diavolo himself. Upon seeing you on the ground, his features twist and worry, and in an instant, he strives over to you.

"MC, you poor thing." he looks so concerned for your well-being that the mighty demon trembles as he looks you over. "Are you hurt?"

"Not at all," you laugh, placing your hands on either side of your body to try and hoist yourself up to a less humiliating seated position but he stops you hurriedly.

"Please, don't move." he pleads, lowering his hand as if he were speaking to an injured animal. "I need to check you for injuries. I once read that humans who are injured can enter a state of shock." His golden gaze scans you worriedly, and you feel your skin growing warm from the attention.

"Dia, it was just a little fall," you say, trying your best to comfort the Prince. "I promise I'm unharmed."

"Are you sure?" he breathes. You may have been the one to take a tumble, but he is the one who looks in pain. His arms are painfully tense at his sides, as if he needs to hold you close, but the potions hold on him is quite different. Instead of smothering you with affection like the others, it seems that he is lovingly devoted to your well-being.

"I promise everything is fine," you say, once again, reassuring the frazzled noble and allow him to help you to your feet. His touch is much warmer than normal, but he handles you as if you are made of glass. 

"I see, I am relieved you were not injured." he says seriously, "now tell me, what can I do to assist you?"

"Assist me?" You parrot, unsure of what he means by those words.

"Yes, I wish to assist you in whatever it is you ask of me." He says seriously. His posture is rigid, almost as if he is waiting for something to do. "What have you been doing?"

"Oh, I've just been walking around, you know, trying to find everybody. That's pretty much been my day so far." You chuckle.

When his eyes widen an alarm, you realize that maybe you shouldn't have told him that. in an instant, he scoops you into his arms. "you have been walking for hours? Please, you have been doing too much lately, allow me to take care of you so you can relieve your body of any stress it may be feeling."

He carries you over to his bed and text you gingerly underneath the covers. His brow is furrowed as he fusses over the wrinkles. his voice is too soft for you to make out what he is saying, but you think it's something about how he needs to care for you.

"Diavolo, please, I promise I'm fine. Could you please just sit down with me for a moment." You say, giving him a little pout. "I feel like I haven't gotten to see you all day."

"I'll be just a moment My Love; your voice sounds a little weak; have you had water today? Humans don't drink nearly enough water as they should, and that includes you."

Shit…

Potion or not he's got you there. 

You sit back and watch as he stumbles across the room to pour you a cool glass of water. His uncoordinated movements must be due to the potion's effects. As he walks back, he splashes a few drops of water onto the ground but is too focused on you to care about the mess he made.

"Here, drink Love." he says, holding the edge of the half-filled glass to your lips. As you drink, he smiles, feeling accomplished. The water is magically cool and you taste its slight citrus flavor as you gulp it down.

When you finish your glass, he takes it from you and sets it down on the nightstand, you could've done that yourself, but he seems to be enjoying waiting on you like your own personal butler. But as nice as it is to be fussed over sometimes, you hate how worried he is over the smallest things. 

You miss the real him.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asks, his little heart eyes shining in admiration as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

"Actually, there is something…" you say in the most innocent voice you can muster.

"Of course, whatever it is you want, I will get it to you." he says instantly; there is a hunger in his expression that yearns for a request to leave your cute little mouth.

"Could I please have a kiss?"

"Oh, of course." he says quickly, his eagerness betrays him as he cups your face tenderly "I apologize for my neglectful behavior. It would be my pleasure to steal away your breath."

And that he does. He goes in softly as if he is afraid of his own strength, but his fear leaves him quickly as he comes to his senses, allowing you to drown in the slight honey taste of his lips. The real him knows that you can handle a steamy make-out session or two.

He pulls away and looks remarkably well. His loud laughter fills the room as he pulls you to his chest in a firm hug. "Well, that was certainly an interesting feeling, I apologize if my behavior unsettled you earlier."

Now that he is back to his usual self, you find yourself relaxing immensely. "I am glad you're back to normal, although I did appreciate you taking care of me."

Although his skin doesn't flush in embarrassment you can tell from the way he clears his throat you have flustered him. "Well, if I am being honest, my behavior wasn't completely due to the." he pauses and looks at you questioningly. "spell? 

"Love Potion."

"Ahh I see." he smiles knowingly. "I thought so. Anyways there has always been a part of me that has wanted to be seen by you as someone who can take care of you."

"But you do take care of me," you say, placing your hand on top of his. "You do so much for me and make me feel so loved."

"I just feel that I only express my Love for you with grandiose gestures. It's wonderful to show everyone just how much I care for you, but I wish that I could do more of the little things the others do." he frowns "There has always been a part of me that envy's the way the others get to do the little things for you. Such as cooking you your favorite meal from the human world or stopping by the market to pick you up something you forgot to cross from your shopping list. I think that this little desire of mine was twisted beyond recognition when I consumed that love potion earlier. And I apologize If I caused you any trouble."

"It is no trouble at all. "You say suddenly, your heart swelling with admiration and a newfound perspective into the mind and heart of the Prince.  "Dia, I love you, and I think you express yourself wonderfully. We may not get to spend as much time together as we wish, but you do plenty for me in those little moments too. The grass isn't always greener on the other side and I'm sure the others envy you as well. After all, you are pretty darn wonderful."

His eyes light up as he absorbs your words; neither of you was anticipating a heart-to-heart today, but there it was. Looking much recovered, he smiles and has a devilish look in his eyes. "Speaking of the others, how many of us have you broken the spell on so far?"

"all except Solomon and Simeon," you reply. "the others are waiting in the banquet hall and recovering from some negative side effects. Are you feeling alright?"

"I am perfectly well. It's strange, but I don't feel fatigued at all. Perhaps this will be the perfect opportunity to observe the others. I recall how Lucifer, in particular, was acting earlier, and I would very much love to tease him about it. Barbatos too."

Laughter spills from your lips until it brings tears to your eyes. "That is all on you, if you wish to tease them I won't stop you but you should know that my lips are sealed. Barbatos and Lucifer can be scary when they are mad, they may decide to get revenge."

In response to your lack of gossip, Diavolo gives you a rather un-princely pout. "I suppose you're right, I must do this part myself. But before I go, will you please indulge me and allow me to kiss you once more?"

His request makes you giggle as your heart flutters. Although you still have a job to do, you find yourself nodding eagerly. A pleased smirk appears on his honey-tasting lips as he strides closer and closer to you. After all, you could never say no to the Prince?

Solomon~

'Two to go! Two to go!  Two to go! Let's go!'

You chant this cheerful little mantra softly under your breath as you walk through the halls with a pep in your step. Soon, you will be able to go to the banquet hall, play some party games, and eat some of Barbatos' amazing cooking.

Although today isn't exactly what you hoped it would be, this twisted little scavenger hunt is one you will never forget.

You find yourself down one of the narrower hallways the servants use. Unlike the room meant for entertaining noble demons of all shapes and sizes, these doors are much smaller and closer together. Each one houses items like extra china, party decorations, and cleaning supplies. You recall coming down here with Barbados a few times to grab supplies for one of Diavolo's spur-of-the-moment celebrations.

Although it's faint, you hear a sound that seems to come from somewhere behind you. You spin on a dime and squint your eyes to try and see better, but no one is there.

Curiously you keep your steps light so as to not make a sound and walk past a lonely looking supply closet. You hear the unstable sound of wood against stone and lightly grab the handle. taking a deep breath for courage, you twist the cold metal handle and throw it open. 

Solomon sits cross-legged on the ground next to some fallen broom handles. His snow-white hair is unruly, as if he had worriedly ran his hands through it over and over again. Beneath his heavy red blush, his fair skin seems paler than normal as he looks at you, but quickly becomes too shy and covers his eyes before you can see the hearts. 

"Sol, what are you doing in here all by yourself?" You ask gently, sweeping aside the hand the wooden handles that had fallen on top of him. 

"H-hiding," he murmurs, tucking his knees to his chest. 

"Who are you hiding from Sol?"

His response is so soft that if you didn't have all of your attention focused on the man cowering in front of you, you would've missed it. "I'm hiding from you…"

Your heart sinks at his words, and your weary head begins to spin with doubt. What if the feelings you have for him are not reciprocated to the degree required to break the spell? What if he is not truly in love with you? Is there someone else whose image spills from his heart and floods his mind?

All these questions that dizzy your mind compel you to your eloquent response. "Oh. I see." You try your best to hide your emotional turmoil, but you can't help it. You frown and can't bring yourself to look at him. "Is there someone else you want to see instead?"

His eyes go wide, and he leans toward you frantically. If anything, he looks offended that you would even ask that. "No, no, no. I don't want to see anyone else."

"Then why were you hiding from me then?" you ask, crossing your arms. 

He casts his eyes to the ground, "I-I just don't deserve to see you right now, not after what I have done." 

This is not the Solomon you are used to. The handsome and cunning sorcerer who loves to make your heart race has been tucked away. The man in front of you seems to be aware that he is partially responsible for the current predicament you are in. But the Potion seems to be making him more than a bit timid. You want to make him feel at least a little bit better about himself before you break the spell, but you have to do it carefully. 

"Sol, I could never hate you," you say, reaching your hand out to help your fellow human to their feet, but he stubbornly shakes his head and cowers away from you.

"C-can't," he whispers, shaking his head. "I can't do it."

"Sol? What can't you do?" you ask gently. You feel your face scrunching up in confusion as you couch down to his eye level and try to make him look at you. 

"I-if I touch you or say your name, I'll go all blank and embarrass myself in front of you, and you'll hate me forever."

"Hate you?" you repeat those words softly. "Solomon, why would I ever hate you? I love you."

Those three little words are tempting enough to compel the human to look at you. Finally, you get a glimpse of those heart shaped pupils that have adjourned everyone else so far, but it breaks your heart to see that his eyes are full of tears. 

"B-because I ruined your day…again. I swear it was an accident. I never thought Luke would use a bowl from my lab, but he did, and now all I know is that you're gonna hate me forever, and it breaks my heart because I love you so so so so much," his wails despair bounce off the walls of the tiny closet.

It's strange to see the usually wise and confident sorcerer reduce to an ashamed, blubbering mess, but you can't take it anymore. You launch yourself into his arms and hold him as tight as you can.

He leans into your touch and tightens his grip as if you're about to turn into smoke and disappear. "It's not your fault." you murmur pulling one of your hands free from his hold to gently rub comforting circles into his back. "It's actually not that bad."

"It's not?" he sniffles, meeting your gaze.

"Not at all," you say brightly. "I have found almost everyone and was able to break the spell that was on them. Almost everyone is back in the banquet hall resting up. If anything, you made today unintentionally more memorable. I got to explore more of the castle, spend some time with everyone one-on-one, and got to see some sides of everyone I didn't know existed."

"Is that true?" he asks, visibly relaxing amongst the brooms and buckets. When you nod, he looks like he's about to go over the moon. For the first time since you've seen him, he gives you a little lovesick grin.

His smile warms your heart and eases your conscience, which means it's time to get down to business. "Hey Sol, would it be all right if I gave you a kiss?"

The human opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out; as his brain tries to spill out a response, you wait patiently, enjoying the fact that, for once, you are the one who renders him speechless and not the other way around. Eventually, he decides that nodding would suffice as an appropriate answer, and you give him a little peck. He's already so overwhelmed you wouldn't want to do too much.

Pulling back, you watch his handsome features as he regains his sense of self. After a moment, he blinks away the heart in his eyes and is a bit confused as to why he has tracks running down his face.

"Oh my. Was I crying?" he asks; the look on your face tells all, and he looks a bit embarrassed. "I apologize Mc, I never would want you to see me in such a state of vulnerability, but I fear that this is my punishment for the current predicament we find ourselves in."

He is taking far too much blame, and being one who often finds themselves in an overly apologetic position, you feel for him. "I know you Solomon." You say, "This wasn't your fault, but I know that you want to take more than your fair share of the blame out of guilt. At this point, the only thing we can do is not let this little accident ruin our day and move on."

He smiles, spurred by your kind words. "Once again, you're right. Sometimes, I feel that you are the teacher and I am your student. I find myself learning much about myself in your presence."

"Hmmm, is that all you think of our relationship?" you ask, looking at him coyly. "Student and Teacher?"

Your question brings a smirk to the cunning sorcerer's lips as he grabs your chin, tilting it upwards and leaning in close. His breath fans your skin as his lips ghost over yours. You pout, waiting for his kiss to consume you, but it never comes. "As much as I wish to have you all to myself, there is more work to be done. Isn't there Mc?"

"Work?" you ask, too entranced by the Sorcerer's proximity to think clearly, and you can tell by his wicked smirk that he is loving it. "Oh, right. I have to find Simeon."

At the mention of the lone cursed party guest, you see his posture go rigid. "Is Simeon all you have left?"

"That's right," you should feel proud of yourself, but it's hard to do so when you see the worry in the man's eyes. 

"Please be careful, Mc," he warns. "The Potion that I created has never been tested on Angel's before. Although the details are foggy, I recall the drastic change in Simeon's behavior. It could be possible that the Potion had a stronger effect on him than the others."

Your stomach lurches as you take in his grave expression. "So what are you saying?"

"What I am saying is that a kiss may not be enough to cancel out the effects of the potion on Simeon."

Tagging: In the comments because there were wayyy to many of you! Thank you so much!!!

[occamstfs]

Quite The Hangover

The last one was a tad cerebral so I went a little more physical for this one! Twink to impossibly horny jock, hope y'all enjoy ! -Occam

Foggy memories slowly rise to the forefront of his mind as he pours himself a glass of water and starts a tea kettle going. He stares at the outfit on the floor in shock as it is definitely not the usual attire of the men he sleeps with. Also, why on Earth is his whole outfit here if he apparently departed before Mattie woke up?

Mattie looks down at his body as he shivers and realizes he should probably throw something on, as he continues to wake up and start to steep some green tea he notices a definite soreness start to burn within him as he finds confirmation that he definitely bottomed last night. “God that fucker better have used a condom!” He twists and turns to inspect his body before getting dressed and finds little of note besides the soreness and a sporadic bruise or two.

Mattie decides if he left his clothes here surely this man left some identifying information and despite his incredible hangover he begins to groggily sleuth through the man’s abandoned clothes. There’s a tank top and a visibly filthy jockstrap lying over the couch, Mattie grimaces and wonders what on Earth could have had him bring home someone so far outside of his standard fare. Inspecting the jockstrap further that he thoughtlessly picks up only to find it stained with pre that now similarly mars his own hands. “Eugh god what was I thinking! Clearly I wasn’t, ah-”

As he raises his voice his headache piques once more, his vision goes white and he leans against the couch for balance, hands planted on the sweaty shirt and jock. Eyes slammed shut he makes a labored return to the kitchen to grab his tea. Before anything else he needs to at least try and get back to a base level of functionality. Uncharacteristically he neglects to wash his pre-covered hands before grabbing the steaming cup. 

He begins to drink his tea holding out for any modicum of relief, psychosomatic as it may be, and as he does so he finds a pleasant warmth begin to grow within him. Not in his stomach or chest as expected though, instead it starts to spread outward from the soreness in his ass before it begins to surge in waves into his crotch. Mattie grunts as a strange powerful pleasure begins to overcome him. His hangover immediately disappears as he sets down his cup of tea to palm his crotch.

He feels as his cock pulses with the waves of pressure surging from within him. It immediately pulses into the hardest erection Mattie can recall. His cock struggles against his briefs as they feel tighter than they have ever been before, almost as if they’re fully sizes too small. He moans loudly before covering his mouth with his other hand, absentmindedly getting this mystery man’s pre all over his face, impossible to miss as its odor begins to overload his mind, this pleasure, this warmth is the only thing that matters to him.

The sound of a tear rings throughout the room as his cock grows beyond its containment. Mattie falls to the floor as he is overcome by pleasure beyond reason resounding in mind from every corner of his body as his balls swell and pull up and he shoots a load larger than should be possible onto the kitchen floor. His eyes flutter and roll back as he returns to unconsciousness once more, lying in a pool on the floor as a warmth grows deeper within him and begins to work its influence on him.

As he lies there he dreams of a man's beard scratching his face at a bar as they make out. He feels his body leaning against this larger man, sweaty muscle rubbing against his smaller body. He feels something start to soak his shorts as he looks down to find himself sitting in the man's lap as pre began to pool. Street lights pass overhead as he pulls a behemoth in the direction of his apartment, arm straining as two two stumble towards their destination.

Mattie wakes up on the cold kitchen floor groaning as the heat has decidedly been replaced by a pervasive soreness, he stretches still face down on the floor feeling his torso slide on something wet and he feels a cock much weightier than it should be bump against the floor. He promptly rolls over and looks at his crotch, finally prescient enough to see that it has indeed expanded in every regard. He blushes and looks down at it, dumbstruck that he now has pipe large enough to put any man he’s been with to shame. Not only that but he suddenly has pubes thicker and darker than they ever should be. He had just shaved before going out had he not?

He continues to inspect his crotch, though his eyes do not notice the treasure trail that grows well into his torso. Instead his mind is suddenly preoccupied as a memory emerges, he has seen a cock exactly like this one. He is exactly as hung as the man he brought home last night. As soon as it does his mind is once more struck, as if a flashbang went off, and he feels the impossible weight of a hangover once more. 

He groans and stands once more, stumbling as he finds himself standing ever so slightly taller than he was before his collapse. He feels new hair scratch between his thighs as his pubes begin to thicken and fan out even further from his crotch. On the other side his ass has clearly grown significantly plumper while he was conked out on the floor. Hidden from his eyes he does not see the forest of hair that is absolutely pouring out of his crack and rising up his back. He even scratches at his expanded butt, though notices nothing out of the ordinary beyond a pleasurable itch.

He slams his hand against the wall, struggling to find the switch as his arm swings at a distinctly different angle than he’s accustomed to. After a few attempts each with more force than the last he finally gets the lights, his eyes take time to adjust and as they do he stumbles against the wall in shock. His soreness immediately makes sense as he sees a body that has spent more time in the gym in a week than he has in his life entire. 

He sees as his chest grows weighter, tracing desperate patches of hair from where he laid in his own cum as the anxiety of his changed body begins to force heat through him once more. He inspects his face as he sees patchy stubble begin to poke out where he spread the mystery man’s pre earlier. His upper lip itches and tingles beyond reason as a mustache bursts out of his perpetually clean shaven face.

 His jaw begins to sharpen underneath and he grunts to hear a deeper voice reverberate through him. He stretches his shoulders as he feels them uncomfortably pull against the wall behind him, they spread larger as he does and he mouth tries to form a cocky smirk as he takes his body in before the shock and stress return anew. He twitches as his body forces him into a standing crunch as abdominal muscles push out of his ‘til now formless core as his pubes stray thicker towards and above his stomach. 

It has to be that guy, maybe it’s an STD or something. It’s gotta be an uh, hallucination or something for sure. He tries to find any reasonable excuse for what’s happening to him, doing so though his mind begins to grow foggy as rationality becomes an increasingly difficult target to hit. Each new thought, every attempt to find reason, to press onward, to remember who he is falls flat as his anxiety triggers an all too pleasurable to ignore feeling in his crotch. 

“No urgh, not again…” He grunts out, each word deeper than the last as he slides down to the floor, his thicker ass and thighs cushioning his fall as the scratch of his tiled wall sends pangs of intense desire into his mind. As he lies there trying not to touch his surging crotch as his balls demand attention, an image appears in his mind. He sees the face of the man- He strains to focus his attention to the image, doing so only increases his lust before he notices. Wait, is that? Is that not his face?

He feels stubble scratch his hand as he rubs his sharper jawline, one all too similar to the man in his mind's eye. He feels a pang of something deep within him besides the lust, something crying out and encouraging him not to give in. Though how can one voice win out when everything else in his body compels him to seek pleasure. What a simple act to follow as well, his cock hanging in the air in front of him, if he just hammers out a quick one he can get right back to uh, what was he doing? 

He stares hungrily at his pulsing dick, seeing pre stream down it in a fashion it has never done before. Or has it? He sees countless jockstraps soiled flash behind his eyes as if it is indeed a regular occurrence. He motions to give in, but before even laying a hand on his cock he loses control once more, shooting load after load onto himself, staining his hair as his mind goes totally numb to the pleasure. His eyes go dark once more as but a moment passes.

He remembers lying on top of this massive man on his couch. He sees a smirk on his face and Mattie reflexively matches it in the present. He sees the man’s cock surge just as his has done oh so many times this morning alone. He sees himself sitting on it as he recalls going at it for what seems like forever. Before he is simply back in his bathroom.

He towels off his mess neglecting to see his hair has pulled into something far shorter and more masc than he ever would choose and his beard has filled out outright. He feels the burning on his chest shift to something more soothing, instilling him with confidence alongside his insatiable lust. Hair grows dense and dark across his whole body and he barely catches himself before he starts drooling at his own reflection.

He remembers he had something important to do this morning, he disrobes of his torn underwear as he leaves the bathroom to see a jock lying on the couch. He isn’t sure if it’s his or uh, whose else would it be yeah? He guesses he must have laid these out for himself right? He throws them on before hearing his phone chime. Oh duh, surely if it’s something important he would have set a reminder yeah?

He struggles to remember his phone password as his mind grows sluggish, finding the pace at which he is to think at from now on. He holds it up to his face and it immediately opens, deep in his subconscious this bothers him though as he is greeted to a twink's nudes he can’t find it within him to be bothered by anything. He gets a text from some trade looking guy named Lou. “Sup Bro!!! Hows it hangin this morning lol”

Matt can’t help but smirk as he clicks to see an image of his bro’s cock, as hard and familiar as his own. He laughs as he realizes that he somehow had forgotten his #1 fuckbuddy. He feels a lust begin to grow within him and realizes that evermore his hunger can never truly leave his mind. He texts back immediately, any memories of who he once was streaming out of his mind as pre spills in his already stained jock, “kinda hard already bro, u wanna go find a twink to tagteam” 

Not too far away Lou stares at a perfect partner for them both, a twink tearing up, having just been stood up for brunch. Lou shambles his way, struggling to walk straight as he makes his way over to an easy fuck, texting, “b over in five dude, hope your ready to have another bro lol”

Not too far away Lou stares at a perfect partner for them both, tearing up having just been stood up for brunch. Lou shambles his way, struggling to walk straight as he makes his way over to an easy fuc, texting, “b over in five dude, hope youre ready to have another bro lol”

Matt struggles to keep himself together as the thought sets his passion aflame. This finale message sends one last rush of turmoil in his mind. What exactly does Lou mean by that, another bro? He sits there unaware he’s subconsciously crossing one last threshold. Before any further moment can be spent however he burps and tastes cum, which sends him spiraling, awash with lust and pleasure, laughing at the idea of Lou bringing someone home for the two of them. He alights to get the apartment ready for company before guffawing and remembering he couldn’t care less for appearances, he just sits and waits on the couch. Staring at the door eager to bring another overthinking man into his world reigned only by an insatiable lust.

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist here

Word Count: 470+, 900+, 1,200+, 900+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Kid, Killer, Heat

Warnings: wet dreams, gn!reader (penetration-reader!receiving), swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader', headcanons, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: This is the Kid-Pirates version of the original Heart-Pirate fic. @jintaka-hane asked for it, @nerium-lil and I needed it. I love these guys. Please read the warnings. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @indydonuts @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @carrotsunshine

“Please, don't stop. Don't stop!” You sobbed in desperation, the feeling of his thrusting causing tears to spill from your eyes in ecstacy. You writhed as he sheathed himself deep within your stomach, overcome by his brutal rapidity in using your body to chase his own high.

He tugged at your hair, pounding you from behind while he anchored his chin into your neck. Turning his head, he gnawed at your shoulder with a deep, purple bite, prompting you to cry out his name as he kept bullying that sweet spot deep within you. He tugged harder on your hair, looking into your face from behind and witnessing its contortion in pleasure.

“Please, please,” you whined his name, in a begging chant, “Please cum in me. Use my body for your pleasure. I n-need it.” His eyes rolled back, tightening his hold on your waist and digging his nails into your hair. He immediately barked out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within you with a soft chant of your name.

The contractions of your body fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional snaps of his hips. His hot spurts splash up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.

“Nnghm, you f-fucking feel that?” he growled, his brows furrowing as he pressed his hand on your stomach to feel the tip of his cock deep in you, “I’m cumming so fucking deep. I'm-... fuck, hnmh-... I'm cumming.” You mewled for him, throwing your head back on his shoulder and rocked yourself on him.

“Yes. F-Fuck, yes. Keep going,” The spectral, dream-like image of your body crying for him branded itself into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire, heavy load deep within you.

The yelp of his name, the dopey smile on your lips, and body glistening in a soft dew of pleasure had him chasing your high and over stimulating his thick cock buried within you. He pummeled himself deeper, huffing and panting before feeling a sense of pride at feeling you clench around him as you cum for him.

“Ahh, f-f-fuck,” he barked, shooting the few final spurts of his release into you before the image dissipated and was shrouded in murky shadow.

His eyes snapped open, looking down to his stomach as he witnessed the damp patch of sticky cum deep into his pants. His cock twitched, grinding his knob against his underwear as it began to deflate.

Cringing, he opened the waistband of his pants and growled at the translucent release coating his cock, fluid pooling down his shaft and leaking down his balls. He groans at the sight before falling back and wallowing in self pity.

“Fuck-...”

Eustass Kid

“..-You.” Kid growled, pinching his brow with his right hand before rubbing his eyes and face with his palm, “Fuck you!” He kicked back his bedsheets, springing to his feet and growling all the while.

Aggressively peeling off his pajama pants, he used the coarse material to clean his cock of the remnants of his illusionary desires. He rolled them into a ball and threw them to the other side of the room, snarling at the fact his body betrayed him in such a way.

Grumbling, groaning and pouting, he kicked at the side of his bed and sifted through his clothes to find a fresh pair of pants. He was angry, mostly, at himself; the way his cock decided to take the lead in ushering him through dreams he knew would never be a reality. You were a part of his crew! His job was to lead you, and your role was to trust him enough to follow his orders.

Drawing back over encounters with you on his crew, real and tangible moments you shared together, his frown deepened at the thoughts. Your smile beaming at him, the way you stood in front of him to protect him from harm's way, the way you followed his orders with nothing uttered besides a simple: “Yes, Captain”, the way your back arched when you recoiled tangled ropes.

He halted at that thought, zeroing in on that moment. Your ass. Your perfect ass. His cock twitched in his pants, prompting his right hand to reach down and readjust the angle within the tight fabric.

A sneer found its way to his lips, pouting as he replayed the hazy dream he woke from moments prior. Listening to the way your tongue rolled over his name, the way you so easily sucked his cock deep within your body, the feel of his hand reaching around your stomach to feel the protrusion from within your abdomen externally - he began to grow angry.

You did this to him.

This was your fault.

He began to stomp towards the top deck, knowing that he rostered you on for the night shift in the crows nest to keep watch. Twitching his right hand, he began to buzz the sparks of magnetism to coil around your leather uniform at the metal ring in center of your chest.

Gazing over at the sea, you feel your eyes droop. Your body is overcome with exhaustion after keeping yourself awake through the cryptid hours, a yawn calling to you with a tightness in your chest. As you clamp your lips shut after a lengthy yawn, you feel the tightness in your chest grow, the center of your harness buzzing to life and shaking with static.

“What the-... Ahh!” you exclaim, feeling your body soar through the air and down the top mast towards the angry figure of your Captain. You shriek in shock, your back thumping against the stiff mast as the crackling energy pinned you against the wood.

Eustass Kid stomps his heavy boots over to you, your brows knit in both shock and fury at how he made your body dance within the air so easily with his devil-fruit ability.

“What the fuck is your problem, Captain-?” you attempt to ask, your voice being silenced by a feral, barking growl of your Captain.

“-You’re my problem!” Kid roared, looking down his nose at you and curling back his lips to bare his teeth at you, “Walking around wearing that leather outfit like you're some part of BDSM club!”

“The fuck?” you question him, truly confused as you downturn your lip, “You gave this to me, Sir. It's a part of our uniform? You make all of us wear one!” You bark back at him, sneering up at him.

“Fuck you,” Kid snarled, stepping closer to you and closing the gap between your bodies. You end up more confused, up-turning your lip as you feel your anger more tangible.

“Fuck me?” you snarl, shaking your head, “Fuck you, Sir,” you spat, darting your eyes down his chest to get a read on his posture and body language. “You can't just go around calling people to you when you feel like it! What the fuck is wrong with- Mmmfph!”

Hot lips crash atop yours, Kid's bruising kiss shocking your senses more than the initial spectral grab through the air. His teeth bit at your lips, his roaming right hand snaking around your waist and grasping at your ass in a rough fistful. You cry out in shock as he begins kneading it beneath his palm.

“Fuck-,” Kid muffled against your mouth, tilting his head and dragging his tongue over your lips, “-You.”

Offended, you fight back. You bit his bottom lip, aggressively flicking your tongue into his mouth and wriggling against the buzzed pin of your harness against the wood.

“Fuck you, Captain,” you snarl, gasping into his mouth, and wrapping your legs over his hips to find purchase against them. He drove his hips forward, grinding its clothed, thick cock against your pelvis; his knob already beginning to weep with precum from the moment you reciprocated his advances. You groaned against his lips, still partially in shock as to why your captain was kissing you like this.

Kid refused to allow his dreams to get the better of him, falling victim to its foggy, illusionary composition. Why should he make up some fictitious memory when the real thing was so much better?

Massacre Soldier Killer

Overcome with the sheer embarrassment of his intrusive thoughts, he closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself.

“Keep going,” the mirage called to him, his hazy form using your body as a muse for pleasure, “Killer, I need you.” He snapped upright, stomping over to his laundry basket and peeled off his sticky pants and underwear. Aggressively thrusting the soiled garments in the hamper, he drew his hands up to his hair and scraped it back with his fingers.

As his fingers met with his hair, he was reminded of the image his mind made of the texture of yours. The thump of your hips meeting his, the ripples of your ass as it slapped back into him, the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: he was haunted by you. He growled, his hands shaking with rage at his mind defiling the image of you and forcing his body to cum.

“You deserve better than this,” Killer whispered aloud, shaking his mask-covered face and scowling at his cock, “The fuck is wrong with me?” He cleaned himself up with a few tissues from his bedside table before shrugging his pants over his hips and making his way to the bathroom.

He saw a light reflected in the basin and vanity of the small bathroom, watching as your hunched figure bent itself over the sink and washed your face. You had a soft wiggle in your movements, humming as you shook your hips and splashed water on your face.

Frozen in place, he had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask. He shamelessly raked his eyes over the curvature of your ass, watching as you arched your back to gaze at your reflection. Focussing on ridding the night off your features and waking yourself up, you didn't notice him standing behind you.

Transfixed by your gentle hum, he couldn't bring himself to scold his rapidly buzzing thoughts at what you looked beneath your pajamas. The prior dream and lustful visions had his cock twitch beneath his pants. You finally noticed his presence beside you, calling out your greeting to him and asking your question.

“Killer, can you fuck me, please? I need to know how your body tightens as you paint my insides with your sticky cum. I need it, please.”

Killer snapped his eyes up to your face, noticing you cock your head to the side with a puzzled expression. His body tightened, tensing his muscles as he gulped back a large, dry lump; his Adam's apple bobbing at the thought.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Killer asked, stuttering over the words. You smile warmly at him, briefly examining his body.

“I said: ‘Morning, Killer. Can you pass me that towel please? I kinda need it to dry my face’,” you giggle, gesturing to the towel beside him with your index finger. He hastily rustled the towel into his hands and thrust it out in front of him. You express your gratitude with a soft nod of your head, swiping at your face to dry it.

You take a moment to study him, noticing the tension in his chest and subtle shake in his hands. His body remained stationary, staring at you as you attempted to get a read on him.

“Did you want the basin?” you ask him, no response being met with your question. Killer deeply inhaled, exhaling with a soft sigh of deep mourning. “Kil? You okay? Rough night?” He snapped out of it, gazing at you through the holes in his mask and smiling softly.

“I feel like I should apologize to you,” Killer confessed, reaching out his hands to take your towel and hanging it on your allocated hook. “Look, I-...” he trailed off, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “...I had a dream about you, and it didn't put you in a good position. I feel like I should apologize to you for it.”

“Oh? What do you mean? What position?” your brows knit together, looking at him with confusion, “Were we fighting or something? Hah! Did I win?” He took a moment to step forward, offering his hands up in defense.

His silence has you concerned, looking down at him before your eyes widened in shock. Killer was admitting he had a dream about fucking you.

“O-Oh…” you exclaimed in shock before your lips curled into a light smirk, “Ohh, that kind of dream…” Stepping forward, you gently jab at him with your index finger with a loud, teasing laugh. “And how was I, big guy?” you teased him, grinning a winning smile and biting your tongue playfully at him, “Did you finish? Did I finish?” He remained silent and crossed his arms over his chest, prompting you to squeal out a choked laugh.

“Oh shit, did you-...” your eyes snapped down to his pants before gazing back into the holes in the mask where his eyes would be, “...Did you actually finish? Like, in the dream, and outside of it?” your smile widened, a soft blush growing on your face as he remained silent and stoic.

“Oh, Killer!” you laughed, clapping your arms around his biceps and giving him a gentle hug with a light laugh, “It's fine. Honest! No judgment from me” you break from the embrace to glance up at him. “Sometimes our minds just run away with us. Enjoy the show. I’m flattered, truly.”

He couldn't help but be in awe of your response, watching as you turned back around and began fixing your hair in the reflection. You began humming your song again, attempting to ignore the rising flutters in your chest at the notion that somewhere, deep beneath the muscular exterior of Killer’s extremely built body, the first-mate had a soft spot for you.

“You forgive me, then?” Killer asked softly, unfolding his arms and hanging them by his side.

“There's really nothing to forgive, but if you think you need it, sure. I forgive you, big guy,” you suggested, getting frustrated at yourself as your hair decided to become uncooperative, “Can help me with my damn hair, and then tell me all about it? In graphic detail? I gotta know what you had me do in your dreams.” Laughing at your own response, your smile was wiped from your face as Killer grabbed a rough fistful of your hair.

He arched you back, feeling your body meet with his chest as he held your hair. His grip was tight enough to halt your motion, but loose enough to not harm you. You let out a soft squeak of shock, eyes widening as you stared at him in the reflection. His other arm snaked around your hips, holding you flush against him.

“Tell you?” he whispered into your ear, tugging your hair to have your head lull back against his shoulder, “Why do that when I can show you?” He nuzzled his head into your neck, freezing before flinching away to check in, “That is, if this is something that you want?”

You blink back your shock, gawking at the position he had you in. Your mind raced a thousand ways a second as you darted your eyes over his hold on you. You whisper quietly, eyes wide and innocent while your curiosity peaks.

“Yes, please.”

Heat

Heat growls at himself, thrusting his left hand into his tangled head of lengthy bed hair before slumping back down into the mattress. Scarred lips quirk down at the corners, his mouth pouting as he contemplates over what just happened.

His crewman, his confidante, his friend: you. He had conjured up an astral projection within his slumber of you writhing on his cock as he thrust deep, languid movements up into your body. The feeling of your spectral image wrapped around his thick shaft, the way you shook like a leaf around him the moment you came undone; it was all enough to spark a new round of inspiration to ignite within his cock.

He reached down into his pants, wrapping his underwear around his already half-hard cock and began grinding the slippery material down over his shaft. The shame he felt was eclipsed by the way your voice haunted him, the way you poured his name over your lips.

“Heat,” he heard you within his mind's eye, “Fuck me, Heat. I need you. Please fuck me.” He whimpered, drawing up the covers to his lips and biting down on the thick blanket. Scrunching his eyes shut, he began thrusting his hips up to meet with his pistoning cock in his palm.

He whispered your name, groaning as his tongue brushed with the duvet. He rolled within the bed, keeping the blankets within his clamped teeth as he began bucking into his hand. Although he took you from behind in his dream, he was picturing your face in his mind.

The way you'd hang your mouth to form a perfect “O” when you came, the way your thighs would quake as your body tingled with the first contraction of your orgasm, the way he would be able to see the deep bulge within your stomach considering the size difference between you. He huffed, panting your name as he heard what you'd say when you came undone.

“Heat, I-I’m gonna cum,” he screwed his eyes shut, tongue flicking out over the blanket as he continued to chase his high, “Please let me. I n-need to. Please let me cum on your cock.” He allowed his mind to get the best of him, picturing exactly how your toes would curl behind his back.

“Y-You like that?” he whispered your name, “You like the way my cock feels deep inside you?” His whisper and huffed pants of your name echoed in his private quarters, his solitude in this moment being his only comfort.

Giving himself permission to use your name while he pleasures himself, he came to terms with the way he felt about you. To him, you were perfect. You were the person for him: his favorite person. The person he wants to come to bed with after a long day to snuggle - to fuck into his mattress, and to ruin for any other partner due to how well he would seek to please you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered your name, screwing his eyes shut tighter and feeling the soft prick of tears at the corners of his eyes, “You wanna cum? Wanna cum with me?” He doubled down his efforts, “You want my cum? I'll fucking fill you up.”

He groaned a final call of your name, rutting into his hand deep against the mattress and painting the inside of his underwear with thick spurts of scorching cum.

“I-I'm cumming,” he cried your name, whimpering and growling it like an animal in heat while staggering his thrusts into his hand, “Oh, I'm cumming for you.”

After riding his palm coming down from his high, he immediately felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame at the fact he used your image to chase his release into his hand. His blush deepens, his disgust growing as he feels the sticky pool seeping through his underwear and into his pajama pants.

Hastily springing to his feet, he kicked off the pants to avoid more of a spill and grimaced as he peeled off his underwear. Folding the material in half, he used it to clean the rest of his shaft before tossing them into a hamper beside his bed. He redrew up the pajama pants over his hips and walked over to his door, collecting his bathroom supplies as he prepared himself for a proper shower to wake himself up.

As he opened his door, he was met with a statuesque figure of a fist balled at his chest height and intending to knock. His eyes widened, looking down to see your widened eyes and deep flush coating your face in several shades darker than your original hue.

His own face immediately flushed with blood, his cheeks darkening to a deep purple color the moment he saw your face. Your fist shook lightly, your lips parted and your eyes slowly blinked.

You had just caught Heat masturbating, and he had whispered your name while he came. Without truly a clue as to what to do with this information, you gulped back a dry mouthful and stated your purpose.

“Captain sent me to get you to come on watch-shift with me in the next twenty,” you managed to choke out, avoiding eye contact with Heat as his shock drew further up his face, “I made us breakfast-.”

Heat immediately slammed his bedroom door in your face, turning on his heels and throwing his hand up to cover his eyes in shame. He yelled into his palm, stifling the sound as his embarrassment and shame washed over his body in a cold, icy wave.

This was going to be one very long, very awkward, and very tense shift.

[dabisbratz]

PLAY DATE (CHERRY)— aizawa shouta x male reader

wc: ~6.5k

cw: dilf!aizawa, babysitter!reader, sexual tension, slow burn, spanking/impact play, finger-sucking, d/s undertones, daddy kink, praise, manhandling, age gap (21 yr old reader, 41 yr old aizawa), porn with plot, size difference/kink, spit/drool, degradation, rimming, hand holding, full nelson, creampie, breeding kink, light feminization

a/n: yes i was listenin to lana while writin this! howd u know?!

The click of a mouse. The sound of a scroll wheel grinding against plastic— rubbery and restricted. A family of five, four, three..family oriented individuals with more kids on their hands than time. It was late, even for you. Who scoured the internet until the sky’s inky black atmosphere was painted a pacific blue. From there, you’d tend to sleep into the late hours of the evening, beneath the comfort of a heavy weighted blanket, until your phone went off or a nightmare pulled you from your slumber.

Your dry, tired eyes trace the blurry words of your computer screen, the bright white light beaming through the depths of your continuously darkening bedroom. The room is almost radio silent— save for the occasional crunching of chips between your teeth and the fan of your laptop working overtime. The text is almost hard to read, shying away behind a hazy glare.

‘One kid—6 year old girl. One pet— black bombay cat.’

Sounds promising. The letters are arranged in a blunt manner, straight to the point and even somewhat intimidating, but the clear boundaries and requirements listed are fair enough.. Maybe even tilted in your favor. Your cursor wanders, ready to further inspect the profile presumed to belong to the parent who created the listing.

Shouta Aizawa, a middle-aged man with a salt and pepper beard, long hair to match, and a distinctive scar below his eye— which looks milky and clear. The other, however, is a deep pool of brown, warm like melted chocolate. His irises melt into his long lashes, which remain straight and strict, much like the demeanor he emits in the headshot photo. It must be reminiscent of his ID, as his career is listed just below his picture.

Owner of Eraserhead Industries.

Huh.

Chewing the fleshy insides of your cheeks, your eyes dart across the screen, hesitantly inching the cursor over the bright, bolded ‘message’ button. Sparks ignite in your stomach, blooming in the expanse of your tummy as you type out,

‘When can I start?’

You hear yourself squeal, pushing away your mouse with your fingertips and hiding behind the warmth of your palms before your computer chimes in response. The message stares back at you, perforating into you as you read it over and over, trying to imagine how this—practicably— rich man would sound. You settle for a deep voice, giggling to yourself as you read out the message.

‘The sooner the better.’

The man is much scarier in person, and your imitation of his voice was nowhere near accurate.

His voice is much deeper than you thought, gravelly and not nearly as riddled with giggles like you’d tacked on. In fact, it only seems to deepen as he nurses a mug of black coffee, just one large hand completely shielding the cup in its entirety. He’d ordered it, busying himself with the sheets of paper he had placed upon the polished table as you explained just how much whipped cream you’d wanted in your milkshake to the waitress.

He takes up most of the space on his side of the booth in the homely café, his layers discarded and shed along the plush seating. The man with dark eyes, Shouta Aizawa, is a natural born leader. The physical embodiment of sticks and stones, seemingly stronger than Zeus himself, he seems to have no faults.

But that’s not what you should be focusing on, not now, when you’re preoccupied with narrowed, umber eyes. They look at you with nothing but impenetrable suspicion, remarkably intimidating despite belonging to someone who looks incredibly angelic. Tufts of frosty hair, unruly and disheveled and divine. The sun dawns down on Musutafu, framing his locks in a makeshift halo. He looks like a fallen angel, of sorts.

“I don’t trust my kids with other kids,” He says, watching the dark amalgamation of caffeine swirl in his porcelain cup. Does he consider his cat to be his kid, too? “How old are you?”

You perk up, straightening your back as you push your straw in and out of your sickeningly sweet milkshake. Whipped cream clings to the plastic, sticky and bubbly with foam, “Twenty-one, sir.”

Aizawa makes a face at that, steely eyes drooping further with the pinch of his dark eyebrows. They slot perfectly, intricate wrinkles firming between them. Did you… fuck it up? You’d consider yourself an adult— comparable to law, anyway. And you can be mature, especially when it counts, so there shouldn’t really be a problem!

It’s evident he loves his kids, despite the hard exterior that he’s showing off there’s a fatherly glint to his eye. A protective overlay to his words. It’s admirable, if anything. You’d even call it charming, the way his eyes bore into you from the outside-in and pick you apart, if it wasn’t so damn scary being on the receiving end.

“Do you drink?”

“…No?”

“Do you plan to?”

More of an interrogation than anything, you take an awfully long time to reply as you use his suspension as an opportunity to savor your milkshake.

“No.”

You make sure to sound more confident this time.

His questions have been asked before, over text and in a manner not as… blunt as you hear it now. But it’s all down to perception, and you’d managed to wrongfully pin Shouta Aizawa as a care-free, laid back guy. Though, from the looks of it, he seems to live up to the ladder. And, upon closer inspection, it does nothing to tarnish his looks.

“Mm,” Is all he says, humming in acknowledgment as a check is placed his way. “You’re young.”

“Young enough to be your son?” You ask, mouth faster than your brain, and suddenly you can’t stop. Your lips curl upward, a smile gracing your lips as you giggle, “People probably think you’re my sugar daddy or somethin’.”

He doesn’t seem to completely respond to that, letting the comment fly into the air as he shifts. Heat somersaults into your face, heating your body up until you find yourself unable to hold eye contact. Nice going.

You wrap your lips around the plump cherry slowly sinking into your drink, twirling the stem between your teeth. It explodes in your mouth, sharp and sweet along the expanse of your tongue, a nice distraction.

Something alien flickers behind his eyes, “Tech savvy?”

“I— Yeah! I play video games,” You almost forget this is an interview, not a date. The thought makes your brain a little fuzzy, cotton forming in your mouth as you stumble over your answer. “Not— Y'know, never on the clock.”

Shouta looks much more vulnerable with his head turned, his veiny hand reaching into the pocket of his inky pants, pulling out an equally dark credit card. No way. His handwriting is illegible, but the swooning waitress deems it acceptable, thanking him for the tip with a high blush on her cheeks. There isn’t a single ring on his calloused fingers, so it’s almost shocking he doesn’t jump at the opportunity

“Good. Eri likes games.” It’s the most praise you’ve heard all night, and hearing it from the deep rumble of his throat makes it even better. Your gaze must linger, because his dark eyes are staring back into yours, almost looking right through you.

“Eri? Your daughter?”

“I don’t like sharing personal information online.”

You laugh nervously, filling your mouth with the melting drink before he can comment.

“I—Woah, sir… your home is… beautiful.” It’s not just flattery, you genuinely, sincerely mean it. You’ve seen it before, sure, through text and under much more professional scrutiny, but the camera doesn’t do it justice. His house aches with love, wrapped up in kisses and enveloped in a sweet, cinnamon-scented embrace.

There’s a heavy amount of childish memorabilia, like crayon drawings hung up on his stainless steel fridge, miscellaneous toys littering the floor, and a pair of tiny shoes resting next to your own. They look comically small, glittery and pink and utterly, indubitably, reminiscent of a six year old girl. Especially in comparison to the sleek, black sneakers Shouta slips off next to them. Utterly, indubitably, reminiscent of a forty-one year old man.

Aizawa makes his way through the living room while you marvel in astonishment, taking in the sights of his house. Surprisingly, despite his not-so-settle display of wealth, his home is the opposite. It’s the real thing, with lived-in floors and comfy furniture..lively and bright. Sure, his sofa is a muted gray, but the portraits and polaroids and children’s drawings make up for it.

You follow along, nearly tripping over some misplaced barbies and action figures as you quickly remove your shoes and stumble forward. Like a newborn fawn, unfamiliar to its own legs, you walk forward with a bashful smile.

It was almost easy for you to forget that he’s human, and not some strong-willed work-machine designed to finish tasks and take care of children.

But the way his joints pop when he shifts a certain way, the way sweat trickles down his forehead after a long day of working in a stuffy office, proves otherwise. It was then, you realize, that he is all flesh and bones. Not pen ink or an indestructible force.

“Eri’s… picky. Try exposing her to different foods every now and then, there’s a list of recipes she likes on the fridge.”

Shouta’s leaning against the marble of his open-island kitchen, socked feet melting into the cold tile. You half-expected his socks to be just as dark as his clothes, so it’s a pleasant surprise to see cartoonish cat faces littering the fabric.

Right—anyway. You nod, though it’s mainly reserved for yourself, as your eyes rake up the words stuck to his fridge. Freshly printed out, not an inch out of place, you wonder how many times he’s done this. The gears turn in your head, clicking and grinding until your lips part, a breathless expression keyed into your facial features. Wait.

“Does that mean—”

“I’ll text you the extra details. Eri’s bedroom is upstairs, but you should wait for her to show it to you when she’s ready.”

Your apartment is a flimsy excuse of a home, nowhere near as intricate and thoroughly loved as Shouta’s. Walking inside, you realize just that, there isn’t even a hint of glitter or gleam as you walk through the front door. Even though you have yet to meet her, Eri’s already brightened up your life. Your walls scream with loneliness, the sound bouncing off each corner until you’re tucking yourself into bed and curling up beneath the sheets.

And though you barely know him, you can’t help but want to follow the childish urge to open up the website you found Aizawa’s listing on to study his headshot.

Eri, you’ve come to learn, is a very smart kid. Perhaps too smart for her own good, too observant, and way too excited to express said observations. You sit taut on the gray sofa, leaning over a sheet of paper as you carefully color between the lines of the thick, inky, coloringbook outline. But Eri’s got her own leaflet, vigorously coloring something she has yet to allow you to look at.

You haven’t known her long enough for the leaves to brown, to fall off and make room for winter. You haven’t known her long enough to see the leaves return, the chilly air slowly descending into something softer, quieter. Warmer with summer’s welcome. But she grew to accept you rather quickly.

It started soon after your first meeting with Aizawa, and to your dismay, you hadn’t really seen much of him after that. Only small traces and fragments, like the religious filling of Present Meow’s food bowl or notes tacked onto the fridge.

Admittedly, you kinda miss him.

You’ve become quite engrossed in Eri’s choice in television, watching the cartoon with just as much excitement as the six your old. It even makes you laugh, hearty and dinkum.

“How do you feel about niku-dofu for dinner tonight, Er-bear?” She barely moves, her tongue held between the corner of her lips as she furrows her brows in concentration. Whatever she’s coloring is much more important than dinner, apparently.

With outstretched limbs, you stand, reaching for the sky as a yawn is pulled from your chest and your eyes grow heavy. Being dragged along by a six year old all day is exhausting. The hairstyling, the nail-painting, the hero-pretending…the dolls.

(Eri quite enjoyed acting out soap-opera levels of dramatic scenes with dolls. And, of course, you could only be the man in these scenarios.)

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve grown attached in the span of a few weeks.

“I’ll take that as a yes then!” You chirp, setting down your finished page with a sense of pride. Might even have to add a signature to it!

With Eri’s toys scattered along the floor, despite your constant advisory to clean them up, walking through the house has become quite the challenge. An obstacle course of sorts that Aizawa must’ve been a master at getting through.

Aizawa… With dark circles that cast shadows down his mature face. With stubble that’s cleanly shaved, not a single hair out of place.

Aizawa…With his long, dark hair that frames his face with thick bundles.

Aizawa… Who almost constantly looks disgruntled, faintly pink lips pulled into a tight line.

Him and his signature crisp, black button up that barely fights against his large chest and his matching pants that cling to his stupidly strong thighs.

It makes your brain a little fuzzy, the thought of his equally large biceps bulging in his shirt as he crosses his arms and stares down at you through the bridge of his nose. And his eyes— piercing and domineering staring straight into yours, lips curled as he berates you like some sort of misbehaving child.

(Which you’d spent a lot of time arguing with him about through sticky-notes…The fridge is powered evidence, covered in neon paper as you remind him you’re ‘not a kid!’ beneath his ‘not bad, kid’ post-it note.)

“Hey? Are you okay?” Eri’s small voice snaps you out of your haze, wide and virtuous red eyes blinking up at you. Clutching her drawing to her chest, she shifts her weight between each leg. Her small smile is gone, so you do your best to conjure up a frolicsome grin.

“Never felt better! Finally ready to show me what you’re working on?”

“Mhm,” She hums, reminiscent of her father.

Eri’s picture is nothing short of sweet. Advanced for her age, she’s drawn three figures that resemble the three of you— herself, Aizawa, you— sitting happily at the generously furnished dining table. On her lap sits Present Meow, a black ball of crayon-esque fur, who has small, wobbly hearts above his head. You all do, actually, some bigger than others (e.i: you quite literally have heart eyes that take up more than half your crayon face), but big nonetheless.

Is your crush on her father really that obvious?

“Oh, Eri, that’s—”

The front door trembles, the doorknob clicking and jingling as it welcomes silver keys. Before your eyes, Shouta’s welcoming himself in, strong right arm pushing the door open. His shoulders are draped in exhaustion, his gray scarf tangled around his neck as he shuts the door behind him.

Embarrassment wells up in your stomach, overflowing until you’re hiding Eri’s drawing behind your back. He doesn’t typically come home this early. Usually within the late hours of the night, into early morning, he can be seen rummaging through the fridge for a drink until he heads upstairs, straight to bed.

Instead, he’s stalking forward.

Did his steps always shake the house like this, or are you just imagining it? You must be, it must be your heart in your ears, because your face is flooding with warmth as he towers over you and peeks over your shoulder.

“What’s behind your back?” He lifts an inquisitive eyebrow, faintly smelling of cigarette smoke.

“What? Noth—”

“Look!” Eri snatches the drawing from your clammy hands and pushes it into Shouta’s abdomen. He hunches over, just slightly, before taking in the image.

“Jesus, kid,” He clicks his tongue with a tenderhearted sigh, looping his thumb around the waistband of his black slacks. “You’re somethin’ else...”

You’d have thought it was meant for Eri if his gaze didn’t flicker up to meet yours.

Dinner rolled around fast, and you’d found yourself nicking your finger on one of Shouta’s large, sharpened knives. Cutting up a small portion of potatoes shouldn’t have been so trivial, a pained gasp escaped your lips as you pinched the tiny wound. You wince, instinctively sucking on the skin of your mangled finger.

“I told you to be careful,” He took your hand in his, swallowing it whole with his palms, and went as far as to berate you, grumbling, “Watch yourself. Are you okay?”

Breathless as you watched him open a nearby drawer, he pulled out a kiddie bandaid, decorated with polka dots and even more cats. You held still, letting him wrap the bandage around your finger nice and tight. And then, only then, did he place a small kiss on top.

“There you go, all better.” It’s a passing comment, only pried from his lips because he was so used to saying it to Eri, and he didn’t seem to realize just how flustered it made you. So you coughed into your hand, secretly hoping the warmth permeating off his body would return to your skin.

Now, with dinner finished, Eri has no problem shoveling the food into her mouth. Must've been all the running around, gave her an appetite fit for a grown woman. It’s not like you have room to talk, you’ve almost choked on your side of miso soup a whopping three times. Shouta seems to be the only composed person at the table.

“You got a little,” Shouta points to the corner of his mouth, waving his willowy finger in a quick, circular motion. “Right…there.”

“Hm?” He watches your face contort, timid and self conscious. He can’t help but smile, just a small upward quirk to the corner of his lips, that slowly disappears as he leans in to wipe off a few grains of rice from the side of your mouth.

There he goes again, acting all domestic, as he raises the same finger to his own mouth. Your pupils blow wide, heat forming in your stomach as he sucks off the rice with disregard for how this might look to anyone besides a father.

Your eyes flicker to Eri, who’s too busy fighting off sleep with the handle of her silver spoon, her tiny head jerking and bobbing every so often, to notice the display.

“I guess—- guess it’s time for bed!” Your voice cracks embarrassingly loud as you stand, quick to stop in your tracks when Aizawa follows suit.

“I got it.”

Aizawa, you’ve learned, says that quite a lot. Despite his generous hourly pay and your obligation to take care of his child, he insists it’s best if he cleans after her. Too intimidated to argue, you simply nod, falling back onto his couch as he ventures back for forth— upstairs and back.

Each time he returns, he notices the droop in your eyes, the way they slowly fall with each step he takes. It’s late, he should be escorting you home, but he doesn’t want to disturb your well-earned sleep session.

As he sits to finally take a break, letting his joins snap and pop, you fall face-first into his shoulder, smashing your cheek against the firm skin.

Your lips pucker, pouty and almost fish-like. Your boyish face, soft and not yet worn down by the tiresome nature of time in itself, looks undeniably cute. Perfect for kissing and irrevocably inviting. Your eyes are shut, lashes resting against your cheeks. Time stops, minutes passing within hours, as Shouta takes in your essence and stares down at your innocent face. Stealing a kiss would just be… so…easy…

“Fix your face,” He says instead, clearing his throat and directing his gaze to the dimly lit, yellow-tinted lamp resting on the end table placed by his half of the sofa. “Or it’ll get stuck like that.”

“M’sorry.” You whisper, bashful as ever despite the slippery hands of sleep reaching back for you. Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?

It makes Aizawa want to retract his statement, press his thumb into the unobtrusive crease forming between your pretty eyebrows. But it leaves before it has time to arrive— to settle, as your body relaxes once more. He observes for a moment, the dip of the couch as you finally sink your weight into it, the debt collectors contracted with sleep finally having caught up with you.

Preserving himself through all these years, none being particularly good to him, he wonders if you’ve faced any similar endeavors. He’d hate to leave you alone, cold and barren as another side of his bed remains despicably untouched, only the ghost of what could have been keeping him company during this sleep-centric night. Your breaths are slow and steady, lips briefly parting to mumble something he can’t quite grasp. Shouta tries anyway, tucking his stubbly chin against his collarbone as he leans forward.

His face is dangerously close, a mere inch separating the gap between his lips and soft, supple skin. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder—broad and wide—your words dispel into the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Alongside a fine layer of drool, something he's all too used to, that slowly spreads the deeper you fall into undisturbed sleep. A heavy sleeper then, he presumes.

Shouta keeps you close, pressing your body against his as he loops his other arm behind your legs and hoists you up. He’s careful to avoid any furniture, holding you with an iron grip as he steps up the creaky stairs. His hair bounces with each step, curly and dark, flowing down his back and streaked with gray.

“..Zawa…” Nearly dropping you, his mismatched gaze locks onto your face. Blissed out and camouflaged with slumber, you stir in his arms. “Kiss me ‘lready.”

Aizawa clears his throat, neck constricting as it tightens around the air. It’s fine, just a baseless comment, he decides, as he slowly opens his bedroom door, careful of the noise. You don’t seem to move after that, dozing in his arms until he’s setting you down into his bed. He really hopes you don’t mind it— he doesn’t have a guest bedroom, after all.

It’s dark in his room, blackout curtains covering any sliver of radiance from outside streetlights. So he flicks on the lamp on his bedside table, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest as he lifts his arms overhead to remove his shirt. Something cold prods at his back, and before he can shed the clothing, Shouta redirects himself to look back at you.

Half asleep, your foot creeps under the comfortable fabric of his shirt. You must’ve discarded your socks in your sleep, because you’re rubbing your eyes with balled up fists as if you’d just woken up. Doesn’t stop you from speaking, vocal cords strained, “S’this the part where we cuddle?”

Aizawa watches you shimmy out of your pants, obviously groggy and irrational from having just opened your eyes, your warm skin slowly being exposed inch by inch. You must overheat in your sleep.

“No, it’s not,” He groans out, sucking in a sharp intake of air as he takes in the mural being painted in front of him. “Go back to sleep, kid.”

“Don’ wanna,” You mumble, much more awake as your eyes hone in on the skin of his back that he’s partially exposing. “And I’m not a kid.”

“Sound like one.” You hear him grovel under his breath, almost as if you were meant to hear it. Aizawa has quite the ability to be silent when he wants to, he can creep up on you without you ever noticing. So you suck your teeth, sitting up in his bed.

He expects you to respond with something witty, something he has to pretend he doesn’t find funny. But you don’t, instead staying uncharacteristically silent. Had it not been the dip in his mattress, he would have assumed you dissolved into thin air.

God, how you hope he won’t find you childish for this.

“Sir, I,” Shouta stiffens, his hair falling from behind his ear as he turns to fully face you. “Can I kiss you?”

“Can you..” He trails off, watching your bottom lip jut out. Plump and shiny, Aizawa resists the urge to sink his teeth into it. How soft would they feel? Would you cry into his mouth if he bit too hard? Anything in his hands becomes fragile, and he wants to know how far you can bend before you break. “Can you kiss me?”

He doesn’t give you time to respond, grabbing your ankle with his rough hands to drag you down into him. Your pretty eyes widen, large and unsuspecting as he crashes his lips against yours, feverish and desperate.

His tongue swipes over your lower lip and eagerly awaits yours, tasting faintly of cigarette smoke and cinnamon. Undeniably Shouta, you can’t help but whimper into his mouth, tangling your fingers into his disheveled hair. His mouth is warm and wet— almost searing hot, and you can’t help but choke on your own breaths. You sink into the kiss, floaty and dumbstruck by his urgency.

Like a starved man, he pushes you down on your back and tangles his big hands in the waistline of your boxers, tugging the elastic apart until it rips with a ‘snap!’. You’re exposed, legs instinctively closing to shield your half naked body.

“Aht-aht. Sit still,” Aizawa hand quickly latches around the base of your dick, sending shocks of electricity up your smaller (in comparison to his) body. You tug on his wrist, eyes burning with unshed tears as he stares down at you, predatory and famished. “When’s the last time you played with this pretty cock? Did you think of me?”

He doesn’t give you time to speak, instead spitting down onto your cock with a thick, shiny glob of spit. You can’t help but moan, watching it slide down and heat up through his fingers. His hand envelops you entirely, big and warm and squelching as he accentuates his words with particularly sharp pumps.

“Oh, sweetheart,” His voice sounds condescending and feignedly sweet, you swear you could cum just from hearing it. “S’been a while, huh? Yeah? S’why you’re leaking all over my hand?”

You feel yourself nod, quick and enthusiastic as you melt into his palm. Your legs turn into jello, numb against his warm sheets, as your toes curl and your back slowly inches off the mattress. Shouta’s eyes are lidded and heavy, drinking you in and burning you from the inside out. You keen, pulsating in his hand until the warmth is suddenly gone, and you’re blinking away frustrated tears.

“No—!”

“Greedy brat,” Shouta’s quick to shut you up, large hands sinking into the plush skin of your thighs as he spreads your legs open impossibly wide. “Fuck, got a greedy hole on you too.”

Your hole clenches in response, eager to have his attention. You can feel a trail of precum and spit soaking the area, warm and wet, not yet reminiscent of his cum. Soon enough, you hope, he’ll be filling you to the brim and then some. Your hands, somehow forgotten, scramble to unbutton his dress shirt.

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, you gasp in retaliation to his big hand clutching your jaw with indescribable force and pressure. Trying to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your lips part, tongue pushed free from your squished cheeks as you blink up at him, eyes dancing between one milky-white iris and another, only chocolate brown.

“Go on, say it. Tell Daddy you’re a greedy boy with a greedy little hole,” He’s spitting into your mouth, a thin trail of saliva indirectly connecting his tongue to yours. “You can do it, sugar.”

Oh. Oxygen disconnects from your lungs, dumbly blinking up at him with a garbled moan. You can’t speak if you wanted to, not with his hand around your jaw like this, so you settle for swallowing down his spit with a feeble smile. All you can push out is a mangled ‘Daddy!’ but Aizawa seems to take that for an answer, groaning as he hikes your knees up to your chest, sighing when you squeal in response.

His big, warm body is pressed up against yours, much bigger and stronger, and it’s apparent in every movement he makes. He’s able to push you around, flip you over and push you down with barely a finger, and you’re sure his hand can cover the entirety of your face. You moan, wanton and sweet in his ears as he maneuvers your arms to keep your legs up.

“Gonna take real good care of you,” Shouta— Daddy sighs, hunched over and breathing dangerously close to your entrance. Almost like he’s talking to your hole instead of you, and you’d protest if it weren’t for the hot, wet stripe he’d just licked down from your perineum to your hole. Your body feels warm and tingly, legs twitching as his tongue prods and pokes deeper and deeper, slowly slipping inside. “Gonna let Daddy take care of you?”

He’s sure to make it messy, adding generous amounts of drool and spit along your sensitive hole, eating you out like he gets paid to do it. He makes you lay there and take it, holding your legs open like some cheap whore, settling between your thighs with feverish and hungry kisses. Making out with your hole, you watch with heavy eyes and a gaped mouth.

“Yeah, yeah..” You moan subconsciously, a constant stream leaving your pretty, parted lips. He takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his fingers, long and scarred as his fingertips run along your pink tongue. His fingers taste vaguely of salt, and you can’t help but suck on them, eyes fluttering in content.

You barely catch it, a small kiss being placed on the curve of your jaw until he’s freeing his fingers from your mouth. He resists the urge to shove them down your throat, watch your eyes get glassy and wet as you gag on his fingers like you would his cock.

“Gotta get this cunt nice n’ ready. Watch me eat you out, boy,” His voice has dropped several octaves—if that’s even possible—thick and heavy and reverberating straight into your hole. It’s like he knows you by heart, even if this is your first time together, because he’s slotting his thick, scarred fingers in along with his tongue. “Such a pretty hole. Matches your face.”

Through the haze you’re still able to mumble out a quiet, “Thank you,” timid, small, and broken up between moans.

“Good boy, still remembering your manners,” He sounds just as breathless as you, pressing his fingertips against the special spot inside of you. Your body jolts, a shriek ripping from your throat as he puts pressure on it, bullies it with his fingers, and follows suit with his tongue. Too much. “Shh, I know. Try to stay quiet for me.”

For me. The implication has you whining, high in your throat and pitiful as you nod to no one in particular, wiggling in your boss’s hold. For me. The implication has you whining, high in your throat and pitiful as you nod to no one in particular, wiggling in your boss’s hold.

You want to be good, be the best boy you can be, but you just can’t help it. The complete opposite of what he’s told you to do, high off his fingers as your body clenches and your moans grow louder and louder, fingernails digging into the soft surface of the back of your knees. He just presses and presses and—

Stops. Abrupt and fleeting until his hand is back, but instead in the form of a harsh slap right across the back of your thighs. Your sit spots.

“Wh- mm-mm…! Waitwait..Daddy—!” You’re stunned, stuttering and stumbling over your words as you fail to recollect what just happened. You press your face into your knees, bunched up tight as tears spring in your eyes. “That hu—urts.”

The pout in your voice is evident, and Shouta can’t help but coo. Especially when your cock, lodged right between the thickness of your thighs, jumps and leaks more precum. His own throbs in his pants, leaking into his underwear and leaving him sticky. God, he can’t wait to feel your hole twitch around his dick.

“You’re a big boy. I know you can take it, you said it yourself, didn’t you?” And there it is again, the fog that casts over your brain as you can only think of being good. Good for Shouta. Good for your Daddy.

There’s a sharp smack right on top of your little hole, the entrance winking back in retaliation as you sob into your knees. The pain doesn’t last long, simmers down and is easily replaced by heat when his fingers rub soothing circles around your rim.

“Daddy,” Your voice comes out much sweeter and wet, letting out a small sniffle as you peek out to watch him place open-mouthed kisses against your hole. “Want you.”

“You have me, boy,” His heart melts, and a soft smile creeps up on his handsome face. His tie dangles as he shifts his weight, opening his bedside drawer to pull out a condom and cherry flavored lube. Ironic. “Now let me in, wanna make your pretty fuckhole cream around my cock.”

“Wait,” You rasp, watching him tear open the packaging with his teeth. You’re still breathless and shaky, but you’re trying your best. “Wanna feel you. Wanna feel you inside me.”

Aizawa’s deep groans are music to your ears, and your eyes threaten to roll back into your skull when he frees himself of his shirt and sheds his pants. His dickprint is big and thick, throbbing in the fabric and sticky with fresh precum. You want to taste it. His cock springs free as his briefs drop to the floor, slapping against his abdomen and weeping.

You watch him fuck his fist, pouring the slick lube down his cock and warming it up with his palm.

“Yeah? You want it? Gonna listen to Daddy so he can put his thick cock in that sloppy little hole? C’mere before I shoot into my fist.”

You nod so hard it hurts, squeezing your shaft to stop yourself from cumming to his words alone. Your cock twitches in your hand, hard and wet as Shouta walks forward to meet you at the edge of the bed and scoops you up into his arms like you’re weightless. It must be easy for him, seeing as he’s so much bigger than you in every way.

“Won’t fit—”

“Shh,” Like he knows what you’re going to say before you can utter it, Shouta lifts you into the air with ease, and you can feel his cock pressing against your puckered hole. “We’ll make it fit.”

Your back presses against his chest, upright as he loops his arms around the backs of your knees. You’re spread wide, and with Shouta’s strong grip, all you can do is sit there and take it. You can feel him twitch and throb from the inside-out, his cock gushing pre as you sink down onto his cock. Your eyes roll back, wanton moans and a chant of ‘DaddyDaddyDaddy’ filling the air as snaps his hips, barely letting you adjust.

His dick is stretching you open, thick and long, and pulsing and veiny as you feel it bulge in your tummy, pushing past your rim and filling you up.

“Thought about this for weeks,” Your breath catches in your throat, and suddenly you’re too far gone to answer. “I—yeah, should’ve fucked you in that café.”

From the… Start?

Heat pools on your stomach, his cock punching your insides and kissing each sensitive ridge with every movement he makes. Your moans are unintelligible, barely even coherent, as he fucks into you, lifting you off his cock again, and again, and again. Cock-drunk while his dick rearranges your guts, drool slips from your mouth and down your chest.

You look pathetic and ruined.

“So cute like this, pretty baby. You make the dumbest little faces when you’re fucked stupid on Daddy’s cock, but still so damn cute.”

His cock drags in and out of your plushy walls, precum and lube making a creamy concoction along his shaft with each thrust. Your face is stained with tears and drool, mouth open wide as you pant and whine.

The knot in your stomach tightens, your hole beating around his cock as Aizawa moans, and you feel your body go numb as you shudder and convulse. You’re cumming, and your smaller hands squeeze his big ones as he uses you like a fucktoy, bouncing off his lap with tiny, “Mm, mm, mm’s.” Your hole grips him like a vice, swallowing his cock deeper and deeper until you feel warmth flooding your stomach, your balls tightening by the second.

“Da—addy please, m’cummin’, m’cummin’!”

“There you go, smart little boy,” Shouta groans loud in your ear, twitching in your tummy when you clamp down on his dick. He wants to fuck his cum into you, you deserve it. You deserve his cock, you deserve his load, you deserve to be stuffed full until you’ve milked his dick for all he’s got— all it’s worth. “Just keep bouncin’, so fuckin good at it, gush on my cock. What d’you say, baby? What d’you say to Daddy?”

You wish you could see him, the grit of his teeth as his thrusts turn sloppy and messy. But you know he can see you, staring down at the cum painting your chest as it squirts out your cock in thick, rapid ropes. Mixing with your tears and drool, you know you look like sex on legs, eyes void of everything but the need for cock.

“Thankyouthankyouthank—fu-huck,” His cock is jackhammering so deep you can barely breathe. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“Gonna make you just like Daddy, gonna make you one too,” It must send him over the edge, the sounds of your hole squelching as he scrambles your insides, because he’s quick to shoot a creamy, hot load of cum straight inside you. “Wanna be a big boy so bad? Then—fuuuck— take it like one.”

He gives a few last slow, deep thrusts inside so his cum really takes, carefully freeing your legs as you collapse onto him with a breathy moan.

“‘Zawa…”

“C’mere, brat,” You’re quick to whine, weakly pressing your face into the expanse of his large chest, all tears and snot and cum as he cradles your head between his large hand and his even larger chest. You feel protected in his arms, shrinking even smaller into his lap as your eyes slip closed and his cum leaks down your thighs. “You’re a good boy. My good boy.”

Shouta’s hand is ablaze when he brushes it along your forehead, soon after replacing it with a gentle kiss. He means it.

“Let Daddy take care of you.”

[thegaysinmyhead]

PROLOGUE

Guys—I never ever ever write Yandere Fics but?? Dead on Main Mutual Yandere??? Ghost Obsessions or Ghost Biology taken to an extreme, leading to bloody and ectoplasmic messes??? DAMN

(Legit wrote this in 15 minutes on my phone lmao)

Jason smirked underneath his mask, a feral grin of all teeth as he dug his nails into the body underneath him. These white suited fucks had been crawling through Gotham for weeks and the Pit snarled everytime he caught sight of one in his territory. It had been months since he had gone into a green-tinted rage, but every time he saw one of the walking stain collectors he had to fight one down. The Pit snarled deep in his chest and begged for violence, begged to turn the eggshell colored tuxedos into a mess of carnage, everytime he came close to the 'agents'.

There was an ache in his gums and a burning underneath his nails, he dug them deeper into the light colored flesh. Blood pooled under the abuse, were his nails supposed to be that sharp?

Jason got tired of watching these guys shuffle through Crime Alley like they owned the streets he cleaned, and the people under his protection were constantly complaining about them too. He was just supposed to come in to question them, threaten them so they learned the rules, he didn't expect the RAGE-RAGE-RAGE that overtook him as soon as he was in range of the eyesores.

It was...different than his usual pit-induced madness. There was a purpose tickling in the back of his brain—a garbled voice he recognized but didn't that was screaming at him.

RAGE-PROTECT-KING

King?

Jason snarled before putting the rest of his strength into his grip, there was an audible snap underneath his palm. The last agent's body fell limp in his grasp.

KING-PROTECT-SAVE

The thing in his chest howled at him as it forced his legs to move, instinct carrying him as he put bullets (real ones, why did he have real ones? He barely used those anymore) into whatever fashion-freak tried to stop him with their Lazarus green guns. Their aim was shit, his was better.

KING-HERE-PROTECT

There was a paines scream on the other side of the wall that had Jason snapping back into awareness, and with strength he didn't know he had he ripped a thick metal door with his bare hands and threw it to the side. The Pit settled in his chest, a grumbling anxious thing instead of the all consuming it was moments ago. Jason absent-mindedly rubbed his hand where he felt the warmth of the green that stayed with him before he stepped into a sparsely lit room.

Glowing green Lazarus water and blood was spewed and mixed across the walls, a chaotic clash of neon and maroon that stunk of copper and acid. There was a figure wailing in the middle of the room as more green leaked from an open wound on its chest. No, not just an open wound, a vivisection. His vision tinted harshly once more as he slowly made his way to the restrained figure.

A man, most likely the same age or younger than him, with snow white hair, tanned skin that looked almost blue-tinted, glowing freckles in the shape of constellations, and green-green-green unseeing eyes as they spilled cold tears. Jason gently wiped the tears away as if pulled by instinct, and cooed softly with and audible echo in his chest. The Pit had never felt like this, not even in his most justified rages. It had never felt this soft either.

The man cried harder as he tilted his cheek further into Jason's bloody fingerless gloves, a pitiful whine escaping his throat as he begged without words. Jason doesn't know why it was so important for him to get this man his king out and to safety, to care for him, but he knew denying that instinct would only hurt him in the future. There was a warmth building under his fingertips before he pulled them slowly away from the freckled skin, the man gasping and blinking rapidly trying to find him again.

scared-help-afraid

There was a rumble deep in Jason's chest as if the soothe the man, and it seemed to work. The strained shoulders relaxed slightly and allowed Jason to move his (clawed?) fingers to the thick iron cuffs with strange electricity running through them. With a clenched jaw, he ripped the metal in half for each restraint, barely holding back the green before pulling needle and thread from somewhere in the room. The man didn't react to being stitched up, but whimpered when Jason's hands left his chest. A green and purple bruised hand shot out to bring his palm back, and Jason murmured softly while interlacing their fingers.

RAGE-PROTECT-HELP

grateful-safe-help?

HELP-RAGE-PROTECT

The being slumped into his arms as Jason pulled him close—the blue-tinted man weighed less than a bag of chips.

They deserved to suffer for the horrific acts they committed to his king the man in his arms. The Pit and him agreed on that.

With a gruff, Jason adjusted to pull off his jacket and cover the weeping wound of the man. He pulled him into a bridal-style carry before making his way out of the horror room, stepping over freshly dead and dying bodies. There was more blood in the previously white hallways than there was in the room he came from, and he wasn't gentle about stepping over still-alive scientists and agents. He ended up crushing skulls under his steel toed boots when the Pit snarled for their blood, but the rest wound bleed out and die slowly.

.

.

.

Masterpost, Pt 1

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Hello, dears ❤ I do apologize for the lack of content lately (Moving to Germany and getting everything settled, on top of writer´s block and taking German lessons is the culprit, I swear 😂) BUT, I finally got around to writing that scene where Reader has to serve Alcina tea while wearing a remote control vibrator 👀This was written with Sasha in mind (if you can´t tell lol) and I do hope some of you will enjoy! ❤

TW: Slight degradation

Word count: 2,054

The castle clock hadn't yet made it to nine when you found yourself waiting dutifully outside of your employer´s office. You had known better than to enter the large room at a time other than exactly when she requested you to. Being early at Castle Dimitrescu was considered just as much of an offense as being late, with just as dire consequences depending on the Countess´mood. So, you stood there, quietly, obediently, waiting for the old steel bells in the clocktower to strike nine. You had made a point to make sure that everything placed on the silver tray in your hands was precisely as she liked it, your uniform had been freshly pressed, your hair as neatly done as you could get it, and the small toy she had commanded you to wear nestled deep within your core was - while albeit, a little uncomfortable - nice and securely settled in. 

The sound of the first bell had almost made you jump, nearly knocking the antique silver teapot over in turn. You rolled your eyes at yourself and straightened out your vest. You were admittedly more nervous than you´d expected to be - but also excited. Your arousal already beginning to pool, pulsing against the firmness of the toy. Your heart all but a flutter as the final bell finally struck, forcing a slight flush across your cheeks. With a short exhale you knocked softly on the large door. 

“You may enter, pet.” 

Her voice was warm, aged - like a finely distilled whiskey. The sound of it alone brought an even deeper heat to your cheeks, and you knew right then and there that this wasn't going to be easy. Not a single drop spilled, she had said. Not a single one. 

And she had meant it. 

You entered quickly and without pause, eyes adjusting to the bright morning sun as it shown brilliantly into the normally darkened room. Luminous rays of warmth basking the Countess in a dusting of cladden gold. 

“Right on time, pet. As always.” She smirked, looking up at you over the rim of her reading glasses - her desk covered in a mess of invoices and letters for the day ahead. You cleared your throat. 

“Of course, my lady.”

“I do believe that's how you prefer me, Countess, is it not?”

She carefully placed the paper she had been reading on top of the others before allowing the smirk on her lips to curl a little deeper. “Mh, obedient little thing, hm? So eager to please.”

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. <i>Fuck, she wasn’t going to make this easy, was she?</i> Still, you smirked a little in turn, walking closer to the desk, your stride slightly staggered. 

She chuckled. “Feeling rather cheeky this morning, I see.” 

At this you only grinned, placing the serving tray on the one empty spot on her desk and raised the teapot in your hands. “Tea?”

She chuckled again and nodded, leaning back into her chair - with one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in your direction as her gaze raked you over, watching you. She was absolutely stunning in the fresh morning light - nearly evanescent. Her raven locked hair perfectly styled and a tight fitted, white collared shirt in place of her normal everyday dress. It was cuffed at her forearms and hugged her body quite exquisitely. In that moment, you were certain the small toy that remained in your core was already sufficiently drenched, its presence becoming ever more noticeable as you began to set out the tea.   

“I'm assuming you haven’t forgotten our deal?” 

She traced her fingers down your arm and your core immediately clenched, forcing you to adjust your stance. 

“O-of course not, my lady.” 

“Not a <i>single drop</i>.. Or there will be consequences.” 

You nodded. “Yes, my lady.” 

She smirked. 

“Though, something tells me you'd rather enjoy that.” The chuckle that now danced darkly across her lips was dripping in desire, much like the juices that had already begun to drip from your core. And the sight of the small black remote appearing casually between her fingers only fueled that.

Gods, she was not playing fair and she knew-

“Mph-!” 

You let out an embarrassingly needy moan the moment you felt the warm, abrupt vibration deep inside you, your knees almost immediately buckling. 

Fuck. Why had you agreed to this again??

Because you loved it, that's why. You loved the effect she had on you and just how needy she could get you. You loved how aroused you already were, knowing just how much higher she'd eventually take you. With your core soaking wet and absolutely aching for her. 

And this, she knew. 

“Mh.. you look a little flushed, my pet. Is the tea too hot for you?” 

Oh, that devilish smirk as she leaned back into her chair even more, eyes bright with a teasing glint while she idly allowed the remote to dance between two fingers. You cursed softly under your breath before straightening your back, teapot still in hand. 

“Quite the contrary, my lady. The only thing too hot in this room, is you.” You replied with a smug smile, making her chuckle. 

“Always with that silver tongue of yours.” 

“Last I checked you quite enjoyed my tong-” 

Another wave of pleasure erupted in your core, this time even stronger than the last. Your hands held firm around the warm metal as you moaned needlessly, wantingly, the slacks of your uniform growing more soaked by the second. You were panting by the time the vibration was cut short, which only brought forth another chuckle. 

“That I do, pet. Though, it does have the tendency to get you into trouble, no?” 

You cursed again, this time wiping the sweat from your brow before rising back to your full height. Every inch of your body now screaming for more, for release. For her fingers to replace the all too small toy that resided deep within you. You took a steadying breath and smiled, holding the steaming water over her cup. 

“I s-suppose it does, my lady. How would you like your tea this morning?” 

You tried your hardest to remain focused, but your eyes were locked on the tiny remote in her hand. Watching it's every movement, waiting for any indication that she was about to press it. That was until she cleared her throat, bringing your attention swiftly back to her. 

“Eyes on me.” She ordered. 

You nodded. “Yes, my lady. Sorry.” 

You straightened out your vest again, teapot in hand. Your cheeks a deep crimson and your underwear nearly completely soaked through. She watched you intently, a scorching gaze that never wavered and only made the heated place between your legs throb relentlessly. Her lips parting ever so slightly before she spoke, legs coming to cross in front of her. 

“Two cubes of sugar this morning, pet. And a generous pour from my flask.” 

“As you wish, my lady.” 

“Oh, and one of those intricate designs of yours I love so much.” She smirked. “Expertly executed, of course.” 

You swallowed and gave her a nod. “O-of course. Any specific design in mind?” 

“Mh.. surprise me.” She replied with a wink. 

You nodded again and moved a little closer to her desk, a slight tremor to your hand as you reached for the small silver tongs for her sugar. One small clink into the cup and then another, breathing a sigh of relief as you moved onto the flask. Though the moment the dark crimson liquid began to pour from the opening your whole body jerked in pleasure. The vibration, albeit a much softer one, was still plenty enough to send a wave of ecstasy across your body. 

You bit your bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. Your legs trembling as it became harder and harder to focus on anything other than the deep ache in your core. You moved your hand slowly, thighs clenched shut as you continued to pour the dark liquid into the cup before capping it off and shakily placing it back on the tray. A staggered exhale as the toy swiftly shut off again. 

“Very good, pet. Continue.” 

You nodded through a whimper and shifted from one foot to another, your desire now trickling down your inner thigh - your uniform becoming ever more stifling. You could only imagine how flushed your face was, if the rest of you held any indication, that was. Your entire body felt as if it set a flame. As if you were the match and Alcina the strike. You straightened your back once more, this time a little more wobbly and picked up the teapot. 

The look on your Mistress's face was entirely unfair. Smug, and knowing. Nostrils slightly flared as she could undoubtedly smell just how aroused you were - how utterly drenched. You steadied your hands, keeping them both firmly on the now cooling metal as you slowly began to tip it. The warm aroma of Alcina’s favorite tea wafting through the air. A predator’s gaze encased in swirls of steam as she watched you - intensely. A swift flash of crimson in her smile as she pressed the little black button yet again. 

“F-fu-” 

“Language. You're doing so good.” 

“Mmmph-” 

A muffled whimper as your teeth sank hard into your bottom lip, thighs clenched even more than before. You did your best to hold yourself steady. With the only thing working in your favor being the master of your craft - the ability to serve to no end. 

Especially when it came to Alcina. 

Your legs shook, body trembled. Core aching in a way that you had never experienced before. You so badly wanted to come for her, to feel the exquisite release of pleasure that only she could give you. But still, you held strong. Feeling the simple fabric of your slacks grow wetter by the second as you dutifully fill her cup with warm tea. Leaving just enough room for the foam at the top. 

By the time the vibration came to a halt within your aching walls, you were a panting, shaking mess. Hair a muss and beads of sweat dripping down your all too heated face. You honestly weren't sure how much more you could take. If the heartbeat that throbbed so strongly in your core had anything to say about it, you'd likely come the moment she pressed that button again. An act that would surely get you punished. A punishment that would surely be worth it. 

Your hands trembled as you placed the teapot back onto the tray, breath erratic as you looked up to catch her gaze. 

And that smirked. That damned smirk. 

“So dutiful, pet.” She said coyly. “You never do disappoint, do you?” 

Her tongue skated over her bottom lip and wetted it, making you groan. She chuckled yet again. 

“Almost there now. Just one more step.” 

You nodded and quickly added the foamed cream to the top of her cup. She wanted something intricate, she had said, so you knew you couldn't get away with your usual simple heart. And your mind was far too fogged to think of anything creative at the moment. So, you picked up your small metal tool and got to work, brow furrowed as you tried to concentrate. An act that was all the more difficult when the Countess rose from her seat, remote in hand. Her scent even more intoxicating than usual. Her mere proximity fueling the ever throbbing pulse between your legs. 

“I don't think you've ever smelt so aroused before, my pet.” She whispered, leaning in so her bosom was directly eye level. The ebb and flow of her chest, her warm breath across your ear, it was almost all too much. 

You took a deep breath and steadied. 

“A-and whose fault is that?” You replied quietly. 

“Oh. I'm well aware of my affect on you, dear.” She chuckled, leaning in even further. “One could say I revel in it.” 

You whimpered but held your hand steady, intent on finishing the work at hand. You were almost finished as it was, with one or two lines left to g- 

“Mmmph-!” 

There it was again, that all encompassing heat. That warm vibration engulfing your core just as you'd finished the final line on the crest of House Dimitrescu in her cup. She looked down at it, proud and knowing, and leaned her body against yours. You turned fully in her arms, wanting to feel every inch of her against you. 

“Such a good, obedient pet.” Words whispered against your lips before she took your mouth in hers, kissing you deeply. Large hands roaming over your body before resting on the hem of your pants to unbutton them. “Such a shame it'll have to go to waste, hm?”  

She kissed you again before you could even reply. The soaked fabric of your slacks and underwear quickly discarded to the floor as her thigh came to rest between your legs. You moaned, whimpered, clawed at her back as you begged for release. The toy in your core now at its highest vibration as she pressed her thigh against your clit. 

“F-fuck.. Alcina.. please.” 

Her only response was a soft growl and the subtle rock of her thigh, moving deliciously against your most sensitive areas. A prickling heat that built slowly across your body with each movement. With tears streaming down your face and your nails digging into her skin. 

“P-please.. I need to.. I need to come for you.” 

She growled into your swollen lips and pushed her thigh into you even harder, forcing you to cry out. 

“Be a good slut and come for me then.” She hissed.

The next moments that came were all but a blur. Waves of unrelenting pleasure crashing over you as your whole body trembled and shook. As your desire shot out from your core and soaked the soft skin of Alcina's thigh. You weren't even sure how many orgasms she’d given you, or just how long she’d kept you there. With a cold cup of tea resting next to you on the desk as your chest heaved in pants. The silhouette of her leaning over you as you felt yourself begin to fade. Body limp as the darkness swiftly took over you, with the small toy still nestled deep within your core.  

[moondirti]

Pleaaaase more farmer! Price, I BEG OF YOU

hybrid reader. mean price. brief daddy kink.

farmer price who is mercurial at his worst.

whose temper froths, bubbles beneath sun-hardened skin on market days, when he spends overlong lugging produce to and from his beat up truck. its the heat, or the sweat weaving his chest hair, or the customers who refuse to believe that, despite this year's asparagus being slightly paler than the lasts', it is still just as good. it's a medley of things, each marginally more vexing given their immutable nature. and where he's tailored patience like a glove — watering crops so that they may come alive in the next season, or moulding a perfectly credulous thing to his will — it does no good when his hands are tied.

he's keen to get home. unwind under the cool roof of his ranch. scrub the muck off and knock back a glass of scotch. the august sun might be beastly to work underneath, but he admits it makes for a pleasant sight as it sets. you're so easily awed, at least, bleating softly when he combs his fingers around your ears and calls out marigold rays. it's just the thing to make up for his day. a drink, a view, and a fuzzy pussy to occupy his hands with.

only you're not indulgent. not soft on the idea of sitting still for hours as you're swung to and from the precipice of climax. a strange restlessness has worked its way through your blood in the past week, spoiling the docility that keeps his collar fastened firm around your neck. he credits it to the encroach of autumn. expectation, leaden on your dumbed conscience, that you'll soon be bred and plump with lambs. the swollen heat between your legs is enough signal to the fact, bucking up into his hand when he pets it.

but if not that, then it's the little feet kicking off his lap, disturbing the stable footing he lends to your bottom. it’s the way your fat thighs quiver, locking around his hand to keep him there, to keep his callouses grinding against your clit. and despite the layer of soaked wool nested along your lips, the squelches of your over-eager cunt are clear in the conditioned air. loud, lewd. sticky sounding when he buffs his heavy fingers over the hard bud poking out.

“y’proud of this? huh?” he grunts, singling on that one point where your nerve ending are too exposed. too concentrated. it must be torture when the rough pad of his thumb swipes over it, skinning you alive, flaying you open so that you’re a steaming mess on his lap. damp baby hairs mat by your crown, smelling of salt when he presses a curled lip to your temple. “dumb little lamb. can’t think of anyone ‘cept yourself, mm? making a mess on daddy’s lap after he’s had such a hard day. i should slap this needy thing silly, ‘till you can’t piss without regrettin’ it. call in kyle to tear you apart to his heart’s content. he’s been good lately. deserves it.”

“nnngh! s’too mu- muhh.”

but he thrusts two fingers into your tense hole anyway, feeling you up from the inside. the heat between your legs, the hot fervour of it sucking his fingers deeper, rapidly blossoms up your body. his chest itches with the sweat seeping off your back, beard soaking in the puddle of it that pools off your neck. he would have it in him to be worried, but today is not that sort of day.

the heel of his hand makes good work of kneading into your clit, the poor thing throbbing under the crushing pressure. it all grows to be too much, too fast. you’d been begging for something gentle, no doubt. a merciful address to a heat you can’t control, this recurring cycle of which he was already made aware of. but you’ve been with him long enough to know better.

if this were his break day, he might have stuffed you with a toy. fed your whines with his cock. wiped your tears with scarred knuckles, and kissed your eyes shut as you worked through your desperation.

if it were autumn, if the weather were any cooler, and mating season brought with it a new, soft coat of wool and the right conditions for your pregnancy — including the freeing of his time — he might have even laid you down on the hardwood floors and given you what you so desperately crave.

but for now, he’s holding out, waiting, keeping his little lamb in line.

just as good farmers do.

(and if it hurts, that’s fine. he doesn’t expect an animal to understand, anyway.)

[twola]

Your latest reblog of Arthur shaming himself in the mirror made me think of how badly I wanna jump his bones in front of one 🪞🪞

Mirror Image

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

“Ugh, you ugly bastard….”

God damnit. You’re sure he thinks you can’t hear him from the open door to the balcony, but the self-deprecating muttering he is doing under his breath reaches your ears and you sigh. Gripping the wooden railing overlooking Strawberry, your eyes flutter closed for a moment and you curse all those who came before you that made him think this way.

“No wonder they all leave you…”

“You know something I don’t?” Your voice cuts across the room, making his shoulder jolt and catching him off guard, something you’re surprised by, gunslinger that he is.

Arthur turns away from the mirror, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly, knowing he’s been caught.

You don’t let him spiral any further, crossing your arms over your chest in a huff, “Are you ending this between us?”

“What -no…sweetheart-” He sputters, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Then why are you talking like that? I ain’t leaving you.”

Arthur looks down at the floor, “You will-”

“I won’t.” You step closer, the small heel of your boots thumping on the floor as your brow sets, narrowing your eyes as you raise your voice, “Why… why do I feel like I have to constantly prove to you that I’m not going anywhere?”

“Cause you deserve better than a sour-faced idiot like me,” Arthur snaps back, realizing his tone only after the words have spilled out, seeing you wince slightly at the outburst, “Sweetheart…”

You sigh again, and let your arms down from your chest, looking at the floor for a moment before pursing your lips in frustration. After a moment, you march pointedly toward him, catching him off guard again as you press your frame against him, hands maneuvering his large body in a quarter turn so that the two of you are prominently displayed in the reflection. 

“What’re you doin’-”

Arthur audibly groans as you sink to your knees, gazing up at him as your hands move to unbutton the fly of his trousers, and then the lower buttons of his union suit as his pale skin becomes visible to you. 

“Darl- you don’t-”

You cut him off further by pulling his burgeoning cock from his pants, coaxing it to fullness as you continue to look up at him. His hands curl into fists at his side, and with a glance toward the mirror, his eyes follow yours to see the reflection of the two of you. As he breathes out heavily from his nose, you return to your ministrations, pumping him until he stands rigid and blood-filled. His gaze is locked on the mirror as you lean toward him, taking his member into the warm cavern of your mouth.

You suck at him, bobbing back and forth on his shaft as one of his hands finds its way to your head, his fingers pulsing as your tongue pressed against the head of his cock before you take him completely into the warm cavern of your mouth again.

Pulling off of him with a wet sound, you find his gaze in the mirror, slack jawed and panting, his free hand’s knuckles white at his side from trying to hold restraint.

You lean in and press your lips to the underside of his cock, making all six foot of him shiver, before standing to your full height. 

“Jesus, woman-” Arthur pants, his hand flying to his cock to stroke it, but you bat his arm away with one hand as the other wraps around his spit-slicked cock. 

“Why is it so hard for you to think you deserve good things?”

He frowns, about to open his mouth before he has to bite his lip as you catch him on a downstroke. You give his cock several more pumps before moving half a step back, pulling your blouse out from where it is tucked into your skirt. He’s unable to do anything but watch you in that mirror as you quickly disrobe - your blouse is tossed to the side. Your skirt pools at your feet. You kick your boots off somewhere behind you. You pull your chemise overhead and throw it to the floor. Your bloomers join your skirt around your ankles.

“Look at me.” You order, and his eyes snap from the mirror and back to you, lust-blown and wide with surprise. 

“You deserve to fuck me.” You state with force, grabbing one of his hands and shoving it between your legs, where moisture gathers, “You deserve to warm your cock in me and fuck me til you can’t anymore.”

He is completely flustered, only able to rub at your folds after a moment of gathering himself, breathing heavily as his other hand rubs his neglected cock.

After several moments of enjoying him touching that sensitive skin, you turn around, pressing your back against him, wiggling your hips against his pelvis for a moment before leaning forward, laying your arms upon the dresser as you gaze upon him in the mirror, your bodies side-profile in the reflection.

“Take what you deserve, Arthur.” You whisper, bent over at the waist in front of the mirror, and in an instant, he’s rushing that half a step forward as he unhooks his suspenders, his pants shoved to his knees as he guides his cock into your waiting cunt.

He slides in almost embarrassingly easily, and when you feel his hips press against your rear, he groans, holding still for a moment, his hands flying to your hips as he tries not to come simply from the rhapsody of being sheathed in your warmth.

You give him that moment to gather himself before throwing your hips back, urging him to move, and he grunts in surprise before taking the hint, quickly finding a rhythm of thrusting himself into you, staring at the two of you in that mirror, a full reflection of the carnal joining of your bodies.

“Say it.” You keen, arching your back to take him deeper still.

“Say -god- say wh-what?” He grunts out between thrusts, his hands tight around your hips as he watches his cock piston in and out of you, well glossed with your slick each time he pulls out.

“That you deserve t-this-” Your composure falls as the head of his cock hits that spot within you that makes your knees shake. 

“S-sweetheart-” Arthur grunts as he tightens his grip on your hips as you nearly stumble, whining as you grip the dresser for dear life.

“Say it, goddamnit-” you nearly yell, your mouth hanging open as you pant, one of your hands snaking between your legs and rubbing yourself above where he spears into you.

“Fuck - Jesus…” Arthur throws his gaze to the ceiling before breathing out heavily through his nose, trying to recenter himself, “I-I deserve this.”

“You deserve m-me.”

“God, darlin’. I d-deserve you.”

“You, agh- you deserve to fill me up.”

That, that, is something he is not able to articulate into words. He lurches forward, groaning loudly, his entire body crashing into yours, emptying himself into your velvet core, gasping like a damn fish out of water.

You’re bent over the dresser, panting, your nakedness covered by the six foot frame of your beloved, whose forehead rests on the curve of your neck as he comes down from his release. After a few centering moments, he grunts as he extricates himself from you, and you cannot help the whine that escapes you at the loss of his flesh. The space that he carved for himself within your body is now empty, the warm drip of his release down your inner thighs the only evidence of your joining.

“Y’gonna -” you breathe out heavily as you push yourself to stand, your knees shaking slightly as you wince, continuing to lean over the dresser, “Y’gonna stop with that bullshit now?”

Arthur doesn't respond, and as you clench your teeth to lecture him again, you catch the view of him in that mirror - he’s completely stricken, his gaze unable to be drawn from the reflection of the wet streaks of him that trail down from your inner thighs. He stands there, breath still heavy and full, pants at his knees and cock hanging as it softens.

You close your eyes and let a long breath out your nose, and figure you’ve lectured him enough for the day. Getting him to truly believe that he’s deserving of good things… it’s going to take more than just today.

His fingertips surprise you, sliding between your thighs to trace where his spend stains your skin. It’s gentle, the way he touches you, until his large hands grasp at your thighs and lifting you up and into his embrace as you yelp in surprise.

“Bed- ain’t done with y’."