#corrupted queri

[2demon2slayer]

I saw your recent monster mash post and was like

Hey this is so cool I need to know more, so how does the corruption work? Is it like turning into a demon but for monsters?

corruption is kind of just. a shittier way of making demons. because the big thing about corruption is that it is a completely separate process from demonification, even though it achieves similar results. and what i mean by that is that any monster can be corrupted, but it's not exactly like it's going to connect them to muzan, so muzan has no reason to want to do it or have it done, especially when it generally just results in a really strong monster that has zero loyalty to anybody

the corruption process itself is where, through some kind of magic, a monster is turned from a normal average run of the mill monster into a magical monster. except it only kind works, like. one out of ten times. otherwise it either doesn't work or results in death

corruption is also very dependent on which monster subspecies is being corrupted. some monsters just . don't get corrupted. others will just always die in the process. a select few are absolutely made for the process and almost never die from being corrupted.

either way, aside from the physical changes, corruption basically always also fucks with your head a lot. kaigaku is a dude with supreme self-confidence issues and a cowardly mindset. after he's corrupted, he's violently power-hungry and righteously angry at a lot of the people he thinks have wronged him.

kokushibou took a gamble in corrupting him, one that muzan probably wasn't particularly happy with him for, but it turned out great for kokushibou because kaigaku doesn't immediately go off on his own to start causing problems and instead sticks around to do the demon king's bidding. and maybe to eat people, i dunno

[a-v-j]

I don't believe this has been said, but if it has, my apologies. Anyways, To Future!Auto and Future!Cor, how far in the future are you from? And how is everyone else doing there?

[bookwyrminspiration]

you are so mean to that poor dog :( you’re the villain here i can defend you no longer. you’re an irredeemable twisted excuse for a human being

/j

if he didnt want me 2 be mean 2 him he shouldve tried not being a lil bitch <3

(also /j)

[mindsmade]

@ni-tessine / meme: quiet, sender gestures for receiver to be quiet.

Aerendyl freezes in his tracks, one foot lifted off the groaning floorboards beneath. Like a deer caught in the crosshairs, he peers Mirri's way first, and then – quite abruptly – around him. In a desperate search for something to be on the look-out for, he continues like that for a good moment.

Does someone ( or something ) have eyes on them? Is there a trap that could blow his legs clean off? Or are they just about to get caught sneaking around, rifling through items their grubby little hands have no right to?

He knows they're somewhere they're not meant to be, but he's beginning to wonder if their precarious stealth ( or his precarious stealth, at least ) is worth the cramp that's blossoming across his leg and, weirdly enough, his arched foot. That's what he gets for standing on his tippy toes.

❛  Ugh,  ❜ slips from the druid's mouth, his raised leg lowering some. His voice, reduced to a slightly piqued whisper, continues: ❛  What is it?  ❜

[yr-obedt-cicero]

Sometimes I feel bad when Hamilton is my favorite,, I know he is a hypocrite and even more so when he enters his political career,, but for some odd reason in my favorite

Honestly, really all the founding fathers were hypocritical, corrupted, assholes. They were politicians, it's kinda a package deal. The only real reason Hamilton is shit on moreso for being like such is to combat with a lot of glorification he's been gifted through the past few years ( Not even just referring to the musical ). There's no need to feel guilt for somebody else's actions, especially because he's been dead for hundreds of years, who cares if he's your favorite? Plenty of people enjoy researching pirates, plague doctors, historical serial killers, etc, all for fun, and who all did messed up things — granted, some moreso than others. But it's not an argument of ranking dead people on tier lists to compare who's more deserving of praise based on their morals and values. The founding fathers were real people, not fairytale heroes, they are - quite literally - no different from our modern politicians. They are humans, and there's two sides to every penny. So while Hamilton is entirely deserving of hate for all the shitty and messed up things he did, you can still admire him for all the endearing things he did, and know we wouldn't have the same luxuries and benefits we do today if not for him. Which is overall, an opinion I hold towards all the founding fathers.

[aclaywrites]

No. Sometimes projects need people in charge. I’m an elementary school teacher, for Pete’s sake. You can’t turn the first grade loose in the room and say ‘all right y’all! Be learning math!’ But I’ve had bad principals and bad bosses, male and female, and it’s not the structure of the organization, it’s the people in the positions of power.

[sydnycvwrtes]

So what's my book even about?

Someone gave Olivia Pope shadow magic.

(no, I'm not kidding.)

My gorgeous, sexy, totally fine main character Esme has many hobbies, including but not limited to wearing expensive dresses, affectionately killing her plants, and murdering whoever King Turiel commands her to.

For the past ten decades, she’s been magically bonded to the various monarchs of Micrea. She must follow their every order to the letter, lest the magic that keeps her in this world decide to kill her instead. However, Turiel, the latest king, is a boring man with boring missions. For years, she’s been able to lead a nearly-normal double life away from the capitol and her bloody work.

That is, until someone takes King Turiel's heart out during the night.

When a magic will spells out a bloody competition for the crown, Esme decides it is her chance to give Micrea the king it, and she, deserves. She takes a young could-be king, Balthazar, under her wing in hopes of molding him into her perfect ruler. However, as they wade deeper into the competition’s twists and turns, Balthazar proves himself to be more than just the compassionate man she thought he was. And as he reveals more and more of who he is, Esme is left to wonder if she’s damned not just herself, but the entire country.

(Everyone is a mess. There's a lot of crying. There's even kissing. With blood.)

[pebblegalaxy]

Mahua Moitra: The Rise and Fall of a Controversial Politician

Mahua Moitra: The Rise and Fall of a Controversial Politician #MahuaMoitra #CashForQuery #IndianPolitics #Corruption #Expulsion

Mahua Moitra is an Indian politician and former investment banker who served as a Member of Parliament, Lok Sabha from Krishnanagar until 8 December 2023. She ran for and secured the seat in the 2019 Indian general election as a candidate from the All India Trinamool Congress (AITC) party. Mahua Moitra’s qualification and career as an investment banker are as follows: She graduated with a…

[txttletale]

Saw a tweet that said something around:

"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"

I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.

i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.

'depleting the global power and water supply'

something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:

running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours

gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours

watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours

and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!

a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)

a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)

i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?

1-1.5%.

ah. well. nevertheless!

what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.

most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.

but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.

but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!

so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!

'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'

this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."

it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.

nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!

plagiarizing human artists

nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.

AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).

to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?

then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!

this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.

(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)

today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools

i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).

jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!

there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:

“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”

this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.

so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.

if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.

[seraphdreams]

JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ♡

TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.

there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.

and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.

his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.

inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.

“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.

it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.

“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.

“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.

pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.

maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”

with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.

it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.

your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.

“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”

GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.

when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.

gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.

“you ready to get started?”

your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.

of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.

after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.

“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”

his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.

“thank you,”

he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?

“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”

“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”

gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.

“i think .. i think i need you.”

with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.

it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.

his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.

yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,

“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”

CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.

a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.

he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.

“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.

there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.

the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.

yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.

“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”

oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.

he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.

violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.

“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.

choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.

you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.

it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.

though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.

staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.

from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.

“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”

it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.

GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.

you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.

geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.

“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.

you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”

if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.

“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?

or so you thought.

“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”

you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.

he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”

you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“

“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”

from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.

with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.

you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.

“if you do t-that, i might—“

and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.

“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”

[2demon2slayer]

Are there any other monsters (like, canon characters) in the Monster Mash AU that get corrupted like Kaigaku does?

currently, i have no ideas for corruption in other characters. kaigaku's the only one i've made who definitely absolutely gets corrupted. it's possible that somehow, sabito and makomo undergo the corruption process, die in it, and come back as ghosts? but i'm not entirely sold on that idea because i have no idea how it would happen

also, muzan, the original demon, may have been turned into a demon via the corruption process. but that's also kind of a maybe

[a-v-j]

Excuse me for the question. Since I am Japanese, I use translation, so there may be some strange parts. My question is, is the coupling between Auto and Queri official? Also, is the coupling between Corrupto and Queri official? Sorry if it's a rude question.

It's not rude at all, no worries!

And yeah Auto and Queri are a canon couple. For Cor, he just believes he was the real Auto, or atleast he indeed was Auto but got f-ed up by timeline splitting. Who knows, im quite notorious for making timeline splitting

[fayes-fics]

Audacious

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Impertinent. After your engagement party, Anthony asks you to rendezvous in his office to continue where you left off.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, innocence/corruption kink, sex education, mutual masturbation, orgasms.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Sequel request fill for @cleopatraathene to continue the story from Impertinent (ask HERE). Sorry, it's taken so long, my dear. Err, this could well turn into a series at this rate. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. Enjoy! <3

The bejewelled band feels weighty around your left ring finger as you rap your knuckles quietly upon his study door. It's late, and the last thing you want is for anyone to know what you are doing.

After a pause, the hinges creak, and a hand snakes out and grabs your arm.

Before you know it, you are dragged through the door, and it closes with you pressed against the other side, the room heady with the scent of recently smoked cigars and expensive brandy. Anthony is casual in just a white shirt, sleeves rolled up around his elbows, braces slung around his hips.

“Fiancée,” he rumbles, his nose trailing up your neck as he leans in, the wood of the door panels digging into your bottom through the thin layer of your silk robe. “Did you enjoy our engagement party?” he queries, teasing your throat with soft kisses.

“Yes,” you answer breathily. “A-And I did as you asked.”

He pauses in his ministrations; you can feel the curve of a smile over your skin. “What did I ask you to do?” he knows the answer; he just wants to hear you say it.

“To return this evening exactly as I was last night.” 

He tuts softly, his nose trailing up the cord of your neck. “But you are wearing something, so you are not as you were.”

“I could hardly walk through the halls of your home naked, my lord!” you gasp.

He chuckles richly, his breath hot in your ear. “On the contrary. This is soon to be all yours. As Viscountess, you can do exactly as you wish. Or as I wish. And sometimes, I may wish you to be naked at my bidding,” he straightens up and looks down at you, dark eyes glittering. “Would you do that for me? Would you walk naked where I told you?“

Again, as last night, you feel under a spell. “Yes, my lord,” you whisper truthfully.

“Audacious,” he rasps approvingly, “just how I like it,” the last few words muttered over your lips before capturing them with his.

Your stomach quivers at his praise, then vaults at the first brush of his mouth, knowing that now you are betrothed, he has promised so much more. His lips are warm and soft as he slowly parts your lips, his tongue rolling, requesting entry. Instinctively, you open, a wave of luscious wet heat as his tongue lathes over yours, a dance that has you inside melting and a throb at the apex of your thighs that is entirely foreign but enthralling. As he breaks away, you chase his lips, eyes still closed, wanting more of his heady kisses. He grabs both of your hands and pulls you to the centre of the room, the fire warming the backs of your calves as he releases his hold.

“Take off your robe,” his order soft.

Your trembling hands scramble to obey, making quick work of the knot at your belly, pushing the material off your shoulders so it flutters onto the rug behind you so you are naked. There is a throaty noise and he takes a step back as if to better drink in the view of your body. His lush bottom lips curling under his upper teeth, his eyes covetous, roaming your skin.

“You should never wear clothes,” he opines, backing further away, grabbing a wingback chair and scraping it across the carpet until it is behind him. He takes a seat, his eyes never leaving your form.

“Spin for me.”

Heart beating fast, you rock onto the balls of your feet and rotate away so you face the blazing fire, your back towards him. Then you slowly complete the circle until you are facing him again, his expression ravenous.

“A perfect specimen. Now touch yourself,” the order is gruff.

You frown at him. “Where, my lord?”

“Are you to tell me you have never put your fingers between your legs?” he scoffs, disbelieving.

“N-no, my lord? Should I?’ 

The dancing flames of the fire are almost too hot on your bottom, as he answers in a cool register. “Yes, you should. But perhaps I should be the one to instruct you as your future husband.”

With that, he stands from his seat, walking purposely towards you, his boots heavy on the rug as you take a deep breath. He grabs your right wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips and engulfing them in his hot mouth, his tongue questing against the pads of your fingers, the suckle of his lips sensual and damp.

With a salacious pop, he pulls off your fingers, his lips quirking into a knowing smile as he guides your wetted fingers to your chest.

“Touch your nipples,” he instructs quietly.

You gasp as his cooling saliva meets your flushed, puffy areola, puckering instantly under the pad of your fingers. 

“That feels good, does it not?” he dusks, wrapping his hand over yours to direct your caressing of yourself, his fingers never touching your nipple but directing your movement like a puppeteer, taking the fingers of your left hand and repeating the suckling action, guiding your fingers to your other nipple.

All you can do is nod and bite your lip, pushing up into your own hands, squirming slightly from foot to foot, feeling a dampness smear on your inner thighs as you do, your tummy replete with butterflies under his heavy gaze.

He guides your fingers over the swell of your lower breast and down over your stomach, chuckling as the teasing trail of your own fingers makes you giggle lightly, your belly rippling. His eyes flash as his hand guides yours lower, trailing into the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs, something thronging between your legs at the molten look on his face.

Two of his fingers curl over the back of yours, turning your middle and pointer fingers into a hook before he pushes your hand lower. Again, you gasp as your fingers slide at his insistence into some folds of skin between your legs, damp and sticky. His face is dashingly mischievous as he places those hooked fingers over a certain swollen nub and swirls them slowly in an anticlockwise motion. You startle at the spike of pleasure that rushes through your body, the epicentre under your attentions.

“How does that feel, fiancée?” he murmurs, tone like velvet.

All you can do is stutter his name on a shaky exhale, your other hand shooting out to grab his muscular forearm where it presses your belly, the dark hairs there tickling your palm as you grip around him, needing the anchor, your knees feeling oddly weak.

“Oh, you like that…” he huffs, amused, as he crowds into you, his hand covering yours between your legs, dictating your movements, a shiver running down your spine at the fizzles of pleasure sparking around your body. “Do not stop,” his voice low, resonant, his lips hot on your temple, you moaning lightly and leaning into him.

A sweet-tart scent fills the air, your fingers coated in a slick, viscous substance that can only be from your own body, a soft, wet noise emanating from where you touch yourself.

“That is my favourite sound in the world,” Anthony sighs into your ear, “so ripe and ready for me…just wait until we are married.”

“What will happen?” you inhale, trying your best to concentrate even as you feel your body swelling under your own touch, engorged, hot, craving more friction.

“All in good time…” he answers enigmatically, his breath a touch uneven.

The slightly rough texture of his cotton shirt snags delightfully against your nipples as you writhe, riding your own fingers and his, wishing it were his skin touching yours. There is something hard in his britches that rubs your stomach with each move you make.

“Do not stop,” he gruffs.

You whine as he steps away, craving his heat, his toned body glorious to rub yourself against, akin to a cat.

“My lord…” you mewl, appealing for him to return, swaying unsteadily on your feet even as you continue to touch yourself as instructed.

“That is it, keep going up,” he encourages, retaking the seat and staring at you covetously, one of his hands falling to his lap, palming a swelling there.

“What are you doing, my lord?” 

You are intrigued by his soft panting as he roughly tugs at the buttons on his trousers.

“I am doing as you are,” he groans, “I am touching myself, My cock.”

With that, he fishes something out from his white underwear that makes you inhale sharply. A red, almost angry looking rod of flesh that stands proud of his body from a dark thatch of hair. The slight is intriguing and makes you pulse heavily between your legs as if innately knowing it belongs there.

You feel yourself moving towards him, like a magnetic pull, your fingers still sliding over that hardened pearl between your legs as you get closer, hypnotised by the sight of his hand, now in a fist, moving up and down his swollen cock.

“Cock…” it falls from your lips reflexively as you stare.

He groans loudly at your utterance, a shiny pearl of wetness pooling at his tip as he does so.

You feel feverish, not just because of the roaring fire in the hearth, but a blaze inside, a flush running through you that makes your mind feel both fuzzy and sharp, singular in pursuit of pleasure, your fingers moving faster now between your legs, varying your speed and motion.

He hisses his approval as your knees buckle, sinking to a kneel on the rug, your knees splaying wide, your fingers freer to move, but your eyes never leave his hand, his motion a quick twisting tug now.

“Does that not hurt?” you blurt out breathily, not pausing, chasing a high you can feel hovering so tantalisingly close, a tingle over your lips and the back of your scalp.

“No, it feels just as good as your fingers do on you,” he assures, broken, huffing now. “I will teach you,” he adds, meeting your gaze heatedly when your eyes ping to his face briefly.

Something about this feels so decadent and luxurious, the same as his velvet jacket was on your skin last night, the garment that catalysed this whole tumultuous journey.

“Swap hands,” he commands, cutting into your wayward tangent, and you find yourself obeying on instinct. “Give me that other,” he rejoins. Before you know it, the fingers that were between your legs are in his mouth, his tongue curling and sucking wantonly, feeling the vibration of his groan over your fingertips as he cleans all your juices from your fingers, his hand a frenzy on his cock now.

Your other hand feels different; something about the catch of your blunt fingernails between your legs has you hurtling towards some crescendo, your skin feeling almost too tight over your bones, a pressure behind your ribs as your heart thunders, almost like you are trying so hard to chase and hold in something explosive.

“Oh, you are there, aren't you?” Anthony growls around your fingers still in his mouth, sounding wild, his motions untamed, gusting deep breaths out of his nose as he leans forward, eyes intense and glassy.

All you can do is nod, almost frantic, as if seeking permission to break, circling an abyss. Your fingers fall from his mouth as he groans loudly.

“Come for me, fiancée,” he grits out.

Unsure what that means, you just keep moving, feeling something snap inside that has you calling out and curling over, a scream escaping your lungs as your body seems to retract and explode outwards, your mind scattered to the wind as an ecstatic wave fans out from your core around your body, your muscles twitching.

You are brought back to the room by a noise he makes—hungry, gravelly, all male. As your breath returns, your eyes reopen to see him in the throes of ecstasy: an arresting sight. One curl of hair flopped over his dewy forehead, his lower lip caught under his upper teeth, eyes wild and unfocused, then screwing shut as he roars, his hand a frenzy on his cock which seems to pulse in his fist before spurting a substance in an arc part of which splashes warm across your chest, taking you by surprise.

That seems to signal he has reached a peak, too, his body wracked by a few aftershocks before he slumps back into the chair, panting, his hand slackening as he stares transfixed at the sticky streak of his cum over the upper swell of your breast.

“Are you well, husband?” you check, fascinated but concerned.

He doesn't correct the title you bestow upon him. “More than,” is his laconic, sated response, an easy smile claiming his face as he unfurls a sleeve to tenderly clean your breasts of his seed. “This is only the beginning,” he promises, cupping your cheek affectionately. “Run along and get some rest; we shall meet here again tomorrow.”

You cannot wait.

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[captainfern]

Stay Away

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Stay Away” by Nirvana]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - while on a mission, you and price are exposed to some kind of chemical. it’s a fuck-or-die situation lol. • rating - 18+ [mdni] • wordcount - 3.3k • warnings - fem!reader, sex pollen, unprotected piv, slight dom!price, praise kink, slight degradation [use of slut, etc], corruption kink? idk, mad dirty talk, strong language, a bit of fluff at the end <3

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

Just another day at the office, you tried to convince yourself as you trekked through the jungle.

Every shake of shrubbery or cracking of branches made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You clutched your gun tighter to your chest, finger poised by the trigger. You stepped carefully, avoiding piles of dried leaves where you knew some kind of venomous snake would be lurking.

Ahead of you, your captain scouted the area, two large hands holding his gun to his chest, mimicking you. He effortlessly stepped over a fallen tree. You almost fucking slipped when you tried to do the same.

“Keeping up, sergeant?” He called to you over his shoulder, and you grimaced in return, hastily flicking some kind of bug off of your shoulder.

“Yes, sir.” You mumbled bitterly, just as the jungle around you began to thin and a strange smell began to permeate around you.

Price lifted a hand, placing it gently against your chest as you came to a stop beside him. He pointed through the break in the tree line, to where a large warehouse jutted out of the muddy jungle floor. The smell had gotten stronger: a scent that seemed to be a tangy mixture of citrus and bleach. Like someone’s cheap laundry detergent.

“There’s no guards,” you stated, nodding at the warehouse. “That’s strange, isn’t it?”

Price hummed around the cigar hanging from his lips, before grabbing it and flicking it away. “Very strange.”

Was that a fire hazard? Maybe. Probably.

He stepped through the tree line, scanning the clearing. You followed after him, your gun at the ready. The two of you approached the warehouse, finding an unguarded door leading directly inside. You carefully pushed it open, slipping inside without a sound.

Price was close behind you— you could almost feel his breath against the back of your neck— as you moved in tandem through the shadows. The deathly quiet of the warehouse was unnerving and the sound of your heart hammering against your ribcage seemed to echo painfully loud.

The smell was getting stronger, too: eyes stinging, tears gathering in your lash line; thoughts muddling together, growing dizzy. You felt hot all over, your clothes suddenly burning against your skin.

And it only got worse when you opened the door of the warehouse’s laboratory. The smell hit you like a wall. Your body lit up with a tingling sensation, skin prickling as though you were standing directly in front of an open fire. A thin sheen of sweat was accumulating on your brow, the back of your neck. A droplet of sweat rolled beneath your tee.

“What the fuck is this stuff?” You coughed, noticing a powdery-yellow residue dusted across a nearby counter.

A hand clamped around your wrist. You hissed, burning. It was Price, his own dark eyes lined with moisture, squinting like he was looking directly into the sun. “We need to go.”

You blinked harshly at him, yanking your arm away. “But the mission—?”

“Now.”

Your stomach flipped, body growing even hotter at his dark tone. You followed him like a dog as he led you out of the warehouse and back into the humidity of the thick jungle. Eventually, you were far enough away where you couldn’t smell that acrid aroma.

You rubbed at your eyes when you and Price finally stopped walking. “What the hell was that stuff?” You queried, looking over at Price for answers.

He was staring off into the distance, eyes glassy and skin flushed red. His breathing was growing heavy, and he had a white-knuckle grip on his gun.

“Captain?” You approached carefully. “Price?”

He snapped his head to look at you, shifting out of his trance. He sighed, running a hand down his face, before clearing his throat.

“Let’s find that safe house,” he said. “And hopefully it has some fucking whiskey.”

•°•

Half an hour later, the safe house had been successfully located, and you and the captain were locked safely inside. You should’ve been comfortable: the safe house was small but cosy, with soft fabric sofas and— hallelujah— a working toilet and shower. The sounds of the jungle could be heard directly outside.

But, you weren’t comfortable.

Far from it.

You sat on one of the soft sofas, breath coming in shallow pants. Your skin was on fire, face burning, skin covered in a shiny layer of sweat. Your head was spinning, eyes still watery, and— the worst of it all— your cunt was throbbing.

You could feel it: your arousal dripping into the fabric of your underwear, pooling against the burning flesh of your arse. Your hole was dripping, clit aching. You were so fucking horny it wasn’t even funny. Inside your ribcage, your heart was beating faster and faster, rattling around in your chest cavity, making your breathing stutter.

You let out a low whine, heat rushing through your body. You needed to cum.

And it seemed Price was much the same: exiting the bathroom, sticky with sweat, hair damp and pressed against his forehead. Beneath his beard, his cheeks blossomed red. The exposed skin of his forearms was red too, burning up as he took a seat on the couch opposite you. He spread his legs, resting his arms across his chest.

Your eyes skimmed over him. The position he was in made you whimper and screw your eyes shut.

“Y’all right, sergeant?” He breathed, voice hoarse.

“No,” you whined. “I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Price said. “You just… you just need to, uh, release.”

Your eyes snapped open. “What?”

Price breathed deeply. “I’ve heard of this chemical before. It’s a sex pollen. You… you just need to cum and you’ll feel better.”

You blushed even harder, the words spoken by your captain like lava, burning you. Your cunt throbbed, pulsing with its own heartbeat. You whined.

You noticed Price shift, palming at himself over his pants. You looked over to him, where his cock strained hard against the material of his pants, and he pressed the palm of his hand to it. Not doing anything, just resting there.

You licked your lips, head swimming. You moved off of your sofa and sat beside him. He jerked, surprised, looking at the way you shifted towards him.

He shook his head, noticing the expression on your face. “Stay away, love. You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

You whined at him, and he grew harder in his pants. “Please, Price. I’m literally gonna die if you don’t give me your cock.”

He moaned. Tossing his head back, the sound that filtered from his lips was heavenly. You almost came in your pants just from it. After a moment, he collected himself, breathing hard as he stared at you, pupils expanding.

Legs still spread, he pat his knee, urging you towards him. Giddily, you crawled onto his lap and straddled him. His hands came to rest on your hips, brushing his fingers beneath your shirt. The rough pads of his fingers on the soft skin of your abdomen made you keen.

Instinctively, you ground yourself down onto the imprint of his cock, hard against his pants. He huffed out a groan, forcing you harder onto him. He moved you, pushing and pulling you against his lap, the two of you both panting like wild dogs.

“Need your cock, captain.”

“I know, pretty girl.”

He responded while he was unbuckling your belt and yanking your pants down. You stood for just a second to kick them away, before you were on him again, throwing your shirt off in the process.

Price was quick to rip your bra from your chest, breathing deeply as your tits fell free. He immediately drew a nipple into his mouth, skimming his teeth along the sensitive skin. You clutched at his shoulders, skin prickling where he was holding your hips. His fingers traced the lines of your underwear as he moved to your other nipple, giving it the same attention.

You tugged at his shirt. “Off.”

He grunted, ignoring you and moving his kisses up your chest, along your collarbone and onto your neck. He sucked at the skin, continuing to hold you strong against his lap.

You huffed, annoyed. Your skin was on fire and you desperately needed to feel him. Again, you pulled at his shirt, his sleeves, whining for him to just take it off. He bit down on your shoulder to shut you up.

“Be fucking patient.” He growled, still biting along your shoulder, leaving small indents. He laved over the impressions of his teeth with his tongue, hot and wet and it made you squirm.

But you couldn’t be patient. You were going to literally die if he didn’t fuck you— and you weren’t even exaggerating. His cock was rock hard against your core, layers of clothes separating you, frustrating you. So you took matters into your own hands: unbuckling his belt with trembling fingers and unzipping his pants.

Your fingers brushed the waistband of his boxers, when Price pulled back and grabbed your hand, pinning it to your side, much to your displeasure.

“Didn’t I say be patient?” Price uttered, pulling away from your neck and shoulder, staring at you with glossy eyes.

You nodded slowly at him. Your neck and shoulder was damp, sticky with his saliva. You could feel the bruises, the bite marks with every breath you took, fiery skin stretching with each erratic intake. Your heart was beating so fast.

“Wanted to taste you first, feel you. But I suppose greedy sluts can’t be patient, can they?”

You knew it was the pollen talking. You knew it. But you still moaned anyway, nodding and nodding because it was true— you couldn’t be patient and you really, really wanted his cock.

Price clucked his tongue, eyes roaming your body before they landed on your underwear. He used one hand to pull them to the side, running a finger up your slit. You wanted to scream at the feeling. His one finger against your core set it alight, arousal dripping onto his lap. He breathed heavily, watching the pearls of moisture drop onto his lap, your cunt slick and wet and needy.

“Wanna fucking taste you,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. He added two more fingers, stroking up and down your folds before shoving them, without warning, into your hole. You didn’t have the time to react, only opening your mouth in a silent moan, before he removed his fingers and placed them in his mouth. He moaned, and that sent your stomach a frenzy with butterflies. “So good…” He growled.

Then, he was throwing you onto your feet, and you yelped at the way he man-handled you across the room. A second passed and you were pressed against the small, circular dining table, nipples brushing against the cool surface. Price stood behind you, his body burning against yours.

“Just couldn’t be fucking patient, could you?” He uttered, ripping off your underwear. You didn’t see where he put them.

“Please—!” You whined.

“So desperate for my cock, eh?” He mused, and you heard the sound of his pants dropping to the floor. “Don’t care about anything else but being full with it. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress the noises filtering from your mouth. Then, you could feel him: hard cock pressing against the curve of your arse. You backed into it, applying more pressure. But he stopped you, one hand on your hip shoving you further over the table and his other hand smacking your arse cheek, no doubt leaving a bright red handprint.

“Fucking hell, so fucking needy for your captain, aren’t you, sergeant?” He breathed, cock tracing lightly along the curve of your arse. “You want your boss to fuck you? Naughty girl, desperate for her captain’s cock.”

It’s the pollen talking, your conscience said. But the pollen in your nervous system was infecting your brain, chanting Price’s name over and over and over again.

“Price, please,” you pleaded, feeling the head of his cock come to rest at your wet entrance. “I… I need you.”

“Captain,” Price reminded, hand squeezing your arse cheek. A warning. “You’re gonna call me captain when I fuck you, okay, pretty girl? Your captain’s gonna make you cum all over his cock.”

You nodded, whining as you felt his hard cock run up and down your cunt. He was breathing deeply behind you, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It was hot— you could feel the heat seeping into the wetness of your dripping cunt. You could also feel your excess arousal forming milky rivulets down your thighs, making you shiver.

Then, without much of a warning other than a small, animalistic growl from the depths of his throat, Price pushed his cock into you. In one thrust, too, leaving you pinned to the table, breathless. You tried to moan, but his cock had knocked all the air out of your lungs.

“Fucking Christ, so fucking tight,” Price cursed behind you, hands branding in your hips. “Shoulda let me work you out, but someone was too desperate for my cock. Isn’t that right, sergeant?”

You writhed against the cool metal of the tabletop. “Yes, captain, I—”

He didn’t let you finish. He stole your words, your breath, when he pulled out and thrusted back in. The head of his cock pushed at your cervix, your walls clamping around him, wetness splashing onto his pelvis. He did this again and again, bullying into you with such strength that the table creaked and the legs scratched against the hardwood floor.

You moaned loudly, suddenly finding your voice. You let the noises fall past your open mouth, the drag of his cock against your walls eliciting inhuman sounds from you. Your voice bounced off the walls of the safe house, paired with the creaking of the table and the distant birdcall from outside.

Mid-moan, you felt something cottony and wet being shoved into your mouth. Your eyes snapped open, finding that Price was using two fingers to shove your underwear between your teeth, effectively gagging you.

“Gotta keep quiet,” he grunted behind you. “We’re— shit— we’re in a safe house for a reason, sergeant.”

You moaned, muffled around your underwear as he rutted into you, hips slapping against your arse. You spared a glance over your shoulder. He was staring down at where his cock entered you, the bottom of his shirt between his teeth to avoid your splashes of arousal. He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly, low grunts echoing from the depths of his throat.

“So needy, letting your captain fuck this tight cunt,” he said, words slightly muffled. “Such a good fucking slut for me, sergeant. So good.”

You keened at both the degradation and the praise. You were hot all over, arms pressed against the cool metal of the table. Inside, you were hot too: your belly tightening and your legs beginning to tremble.

“Captain,” you breathed. “Gonna cum—”

“‘Course you are,” he chuckled darkly. “Been so desperate to cum, haven’t you? So desperate to cum on your captain’s cock… go on then. Cum on my cock and show me how needy you are, eh?”

Your underwear muffled most of the lewd sounds dripping from your mouth. His words stoked the fire within you and, after just a couple of deep breaths, you came the hardest you’d evener come before. You felt yourself gush around him: arousal flooding from your abused cunt and down your legs, along the insides of your knees. Your hole spasmed around his cock, obscene noises filling the safe house as he continued to fuck into you like a man starved.

“Captain.” You whimpered, and he reached around to pull your underwear from your mouth. For just a moment, he straightened your body, pressing your back taut to his front, cock still nestled deep inside you.

With surprising gentleness, he pressed his mouth to yours. He kissed you deeply, licking into your mouth, making you sigh. He had stilled his thrusts, cock pulsing inside your tight heat. When he kissed you, you squeezed him tighter, and he huffed into your mouth.

“You alright?” He whispered.

You nodded.

“Words, love, please.”

“I’m alright.” You finally whispered, letting him place a couple of warm kisses across your cheek and jaw. Gentleness— before he resumed his bruising pace, folding you back over the table and settling both his hands on the skin of your hips.

“Wanted this for so long,” he was rambling now, voice strained with pleasure. “Wanted this tight cunt around my cock since you joined the taskforce. Knew you’d be so wet and tight.”

His cock was reaching deep into you, nudging the burning fire that simmered in the pool of your belly. Embers were flaring. Another orgasm building.

Price was grunting behind you, deep and melodic as he rutted into you like an animal, chasing his release. Sometime ago, he had ripped his shirt off. When? You don’t know, but it now meant you had full view of his toned stomach and chest when you peered over your shoulder.

Your second orgasm was fast approaching, and you tried to warn him. Key word, tried. His thrusts were leaving you dizzy— words unable to form as that spot within you was abused by the blunt force of him.

But he knew. Of course he knew.

“You wanna cum again, pretty girl?” He breathed, deep voice and smooth accent adding fuel to the fire.

“Please…” You managed to draw out.

He huffed, pace beginning to quicken as his thrusts lost a precise rhythm. “Go on, then. Cum again for me. Come on.”

The fire erupted inside you. “Captain!” You all but shouted, orgasm racking through you so violently that you swore your legs were going to give out. But they didn’t, not with Price pinning you to the table, holding you firm as he fucked his fat cock into you.

He was almost there. Breathing rapidly, skin prickling, head spinning. All he could see and feel and smell was you. He was in heaven.

“My pretty girl,” he grunted. “My good girl.” He repeated a few times, a mantra, before he groaned thick from his chest and stuffed himself to the hilt inside of you.

You felt his cum fill you, hot. Flooding the depths of your cunt, you spasmed around him as he slowly, gently, rocked his cock into you a few more times, pushing his seed further into the warmth of your womb.

He rubbed circles on your hips, not pulling his cock out as he stood you up, wrapping you in his arms. Through a tired haze, you somehow got back to the couch, his cock still sheathed inside you. You sat on his lap, resting against his bare chest, listening to his softening breathing. A hand on his chest, you felt the pace of his heart. He had two strong arms wrapped around you.

“You okay, love?” He asked after a moment of calm, his breathing now even.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You breathed a reply, a whisper.

Price placed a kiss on the top of your head, holding you closer to him. “Feel better?” He rubbed his hands along your back.

You nodded, eyelids heavy as he held you, stroked you, warm and safe. “Yeah… don’t feel like I’m on fire anymore.”

He hummed, vibrating where you laid on him. “That’s good. As long as… that worked, then I’m happy.”

You smiled sleepily up at him, and he returned the smile, leaning down to catch your mouth in a sweet kiss.

“We might have to go again later, just to make sure, captain.” You mumbled against his lips.

He chuckled, pulling away. “If you insist, sergeant.”

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

thank you for all the recent support! i’m new to writing on tumblr, and also pretty new to writing smut lol, so thank you for the kindness <3 more works are to come, but feel free to ask for other cod characters too x

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

corrupt!Satoru refuses to let go of his little sorcerer girlfriend when he becomes a vessel: Sure things have changed a bit.. Okay, a fucking lot. He's been put on a temporary leave by Yuji and the others till they can figure out a reverse. Which unfortunately for you means he's got all that time in the world to focus on your guy's relationship. "Y/n!" The unanticipated shout of your name almost makes you jump out your fuckin skin, quickly scarfing down a scolding hot piece of bacon so you don't choke. Dammit, you thought you could enjoy a nibble of breakfast before having to appease your master boyfriend. You pray to any God with a heart that Satoru wasn't too pissed at you for not being by his side when he awoke. From the goosebumps creeping down your neck and eerily sudden silence surrounding you, it's an obvious useless hopeless wish. "Why the fuck weren't you next to me when I woke up? Did I not say havin you by my side at all time keeps me from becoming.. Murderous?" The sudden presence and growled query compels you to spin around, starin up at him with wide frightened eyes. He's shirtless, gazing back with an unreadable expression as his magnificent morning wood bulges obscenely. "T-toru, I -" His hand damn near teleports to hold you firm around your slender brown neck. "Know what? I don't really feel like hearin whatever pathetic excuse is about to fall from those cute lips, baby. On your knees." He tells you, pushin you down with one hand while pullin his dick from his dark grey joggers with the other. You comply, eyes teary at how he glares down at you menacingly. "Better not disappoint me twice this morning, y/n. No tellin what I might do.." He warns, head falling back as he slips his dick into your mouth with a sinister smile on his pretty face.

corrupt!Gojo monitors the fuck outta who you talk to and where you go: If he can't have you near him 24/7, he NEEDS to know 1. Where you're goin; 2. Who's gonna be there; and 3. When the fuck you're comin home to him. "You're late. Fuck are you, little girl?" You're never gonna get used to the snarl that consistently stains his tone, even when he's not irritated. You're late coming back from what was supposed to be research on a curse, so Satoru calls you. "Just by a few minutes. I'll be there soon." You assure him, pullin your cell from your cheek briefly to check the time. "I didn't ask how late you are; I asked where you were." You don't waste a second droppin a pin. There's a bit of shuffling over the phone before he speaks again. "I'm on my way to pick you up. Stay where you are. Better be alone like you said, y/n." The line clicks dead as you heave a heavy sigh, makin sure not move an inch till you see Satoru pull up.

corrupt!Satoru doesn't do well with anyone besides himself being mean to you: Slamming your front door shut upon entering, you stomp towards your bedroom as tears of frustration leak from your eyes. You don't make it past the couch in the living room before Satoru's sittin down on it, perching you in his lap. "Who fuckin did it, baby? Huh? Tell me! I'll rip their fuckin head off." His gruesome words don't match the soft imploring look in his piercing eyes; you miss that look so much that the truth spills from your lips without a thought. "I thought I'd make it to Grade 2 today.. It didn't happen. They brought in someone new. Some jerk that failed me cause I wouldn't let him touch me." Your hands slap over your mouth, the last sentence accidentally comin out before you can think. That unreadable expression graces his features before you end up face down in the couch, panties swiftly pulled to your thighs as he eats your poor unsuspecting lil puss from the back. "What the fuuuuuck? Toru, ah! S-satoru, wait. Please just- ohmyGod!" Ofcourse he ignores you. Slurps ya cunt so good that you cum in under a minute. Only then do you get a response. "Get the fuck up. We're goin back up there. Gonna have a lil chat with Mr. New Guy." He commands you, landing one more lick up your slit and a harsh slap to your ass. You leveled up that day. And Mr. New Guy was gone by the next. Yuji and the others don't bother standing in Satoru's way.

corrupt!Satoru loves marking your body and staking his claim: He doesn't think a day should pass before he's adding a new one to the collection. So he corners you when you're in the kitchen doin the dishes. "Hey gorgeous. Wanna make you cum real quick.." He mumbles, pressin up behind you. His hard cock humps your backside slow and firm as he fingers you through your itty bitty shorts. The first swipe has you poppin your ass back on his dick, keening Satoru's name like a fuckin banshee. "That the spot, princess? Yeah it is.. Know all your spots. Just like Daddy should, huh?" His tone is so cocky but you know better than to disagree and nod to his question anyway. "Yeeees, only you can make me feel like this. Always make me feel so goood, Toru." He soaks in your praise and at this point it's a givin that you've completely abandoned your task. A damp hand slides to the back of his head for a handful of his soft snowy locks as he nips and sucks at your neck. His sensual lips are one of your weaknesses; never fail to make you whimper like a bitch in heat. "Satoruuuuu.. Daddy please. Want some dick.." He chuckles at you, wonderin if you can even handle it- not like that would stop him. Still, your knees are already so you weak he has to hold you up, arms slung around your waist to plaster your back to his front. "Fuck baby, so pretty when you beg for my cock. Look even prettier when you let me claim you like this." Fine, he'll give you what you want. But first.. He pulls his lengthy dick out, your small shorts down, and slips it between your plushy brown ass cheeks. Your boyfriend's eyes nearly cross at the tight warm hold of you. Satoru pants and huffs, quickly starting off with short strokes that numb his mind. "I'm gonna fuck this perfect fat ass one day, y/n. Thats right, and you're not gonna be able to stop me. You can beg and cry and scream all you want.. Mmmfuck- but Daddy's not gonna listen, baby. Not one bit. I'm gonna keep goin till you squirt all over me from the feelin of it." Precum assists him slidin back and forth with ease, but his filthy words aid the throbbing in your clit and flutter in your gushy cunt. You only moan back in response to his dirty admission. Its okay. Satoru knows you always get like this: speechless when you're about to cum. Goddamn you turn him on so fuckin much. He bites at the sensitive spot on your throat, locking his teeth and groaning like a wild man. It makes you clench around his dick, him in turn pressin his digits with an accuracy that forces you to cum so good. "Good fuckin giiiirl, baby! So proud of you. Takin my mark and cummin on my hand- fuuuuuck. I own you, princess." Your quick wordless whines spur him on, fingers still yanking his hair viciously as your arousal spills to the kitchen floor. The sting of the pull has Satoru howling while he cums buckets in you. He's licking messily at the fresh bite on your neck as he smears his nut all over your plump ass. Fuck, you always make him buss so fuckin so hard! He's breathing fast, eyes flickin between where he paints you, your new bite mark and how fucked out you look even though you haven't had his dick yet. Speaking of, why the hell is he still so goddamn rigid? But you.. "You're so fuckin wet.." Satoru spears you on his cock without a second thought, your loud stunned cry makin a warmth shoot up his spine. He doesn't know when your hand joined the other in his hair, just cherishes how tight you grip at him when he fucks the rest of his cock into you. Appreciates and adores any and everything you have to offer. 'Shit.. Guess its time to put a baby in you.' Satoru thinks as he holds you round your waist and drills your lil puss as you shout out in surprised pleasure. Christ, he loves you so fuckin much and he's never letting you go.

corrupt!Satoru In layman's terms: He shows you that he is very fuckin possesive and owns you in every conceivable way.

[bubblebaththoughts]

Virginity

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikayan!Reader

kinkmas masterlist

warnings: 18+ MDNI, p in v, loss of virginity, semi-innocent reader, corruption kink, cutie caring Neteyam, 18+ MDNI!

The morning started off slow for you, yet the day seemed to go by in a blur.

There wasn’t much you had to do today but right now you were heading home from a little hunt with your best friend, Neteyam.

He was going on and on about this girl he met the other night and you had begun to tune him out, his little sexual endeavors no longer interested you.

“Is everything alright?” Neteyam interrupted your train of thought

You must have spaced out on your walk home, as the clan was now in sight, not too far now.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You responded distantly

“How are you feeling?” Neteyam prodded

“I feel good. Why?” You ask, turning your head back to look at him briefly

“No reason.” Neteyam shrugged “Just figured it wouldn’t hurt to check on you.”

“Well I’m fine Neteyam.” You smiled, now facing your path again

“I- I have a question.” He hesitated

“Okay, Um- ask it then.” You responded, not sure where this was going

“How come you’ve never…” He looked around, making sure there were no other listening ears “Done anything?”

Your eyes squint in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you listen to all of my experiences but you’ve never told me anything about your own.” He explained, his face now faced the ground as he scratched the back of his ear

“You mean like… sexual things?” You now whisper as your face burns in embarrassment

“Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” Neteyam queried, his hand grabbing your elbow to stop you in your tracks

“I- I mean it’s definitely not a bad thing, but I, I don’t know, it’s just never happened for me.” You stuttered out, your voice almost quivering as Neteyam towered over you.

“Never?” Neteyam’s head tilted in confusion “So, what, you’re a virgin? Really?”

“Shush!” You smacked his chest, making him laugh in amusement

The two of you had been best friends for years, so it wasn’t a particularly uncomfortable thing to talk about with him. But, still, you found it embarrassing for yourself, and you avoided eye contact with him.

“How do you release stress?” Neteyam asked, almost laughing as he looked down at you in amazement “How can you hold out for so long?”

“Because I’m not a sex addict?” You quipped, making him laugh once again

“I’m not an addict. I have a healthy relationship with my sex life, actually.” He grabbed you by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye, “You can’t just ignore it.”

You shove his hand away, “Leave it alone, Neteyam.”

“I’m sorry, every word that’s coming out of your mouth just intrigues me more.” Neteyam laughed

You try to push away from him, but he has a strong hold on you.

“Have you, at the very least, ever been kissed, sevin?”

Your eyes widen and your face flushes with embarrassment when once again.

“No?” He analyzes you with his eyes carefully, as if he’d never seen you before now. And, to be frank, he probably had never seen you quite like this before.

“Can I ask you a more personal question?” He asked, his eyes still boring into you

You scoff, “Does it get anymore personal than this?”

“Yes or no?” He insisted, taking you by the chin once again to force eye contact

“Fine.” You stared up at him, awaiting his question

“As I was saying earlier… um, to relieve stress, be honest, do you touch yourself?” He asked, rather bluntly

Your eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights, “W-what do you mean?”

Neteyam’s lips pull into a small smirk. “You know, at night, after a long day…” His hand slipped down to you hip, pulling you gently against him. “When you get all alone…”

“No… No I don’t…” You take a breath, “I don’t do that.”

“What a shame…” Neteyam laughed, his hand squeezing at your hip

“Really?” You asked, eyes wider than ever

“I mean… you are missing out… but who am I to judge you for the pace you decide to take?” Neteyam shrugged

“Neteyam… I don’t like that I’m so inexperienced… but now…” You begin to try and explain but Neteyam cuts you off

“It’s alright, it’s never too late, believe me.” He reassured you

“But, I don’t even know how to… you know.” You hinted, now avoiding his eye contact again

“Touch yourself?” He teased

“…yeah.” You nod

“Just… explore yourself… I don’t know how to explain it without… showing you.” He advised

“That’s not helpful.” You laughed

“I mean, if you want, I could… help you.” Neteyam suggested “By showing you.”

“I don’t know…” You looked away from him

“Exactly! You don’t know. Which is why you should let me help you.” He urged, humorously

“This isn’t a joke Neteyam!” You whined, pushing at his chest

“No, it’s not.” He said, seriously “I do want to help you, let me help you sevin, please?”

The second you agreed he was on you.

His lips connected with yours in a passion that you felt you could never recreate with anyone else.

He pulls both of you off of the beaten path into the wooded area that could cover you both. He lays you down on the mossy ground and sinks in between your legs

You feel a tingle of excitement as Neteyam begins to touch you. His hands are gentle and kind as he guides you through the motions of self-pleasure.

He moves your hand up and down your body, slowly caressing each area as he talks you through it. His words are soft and encouraging, telling you what to do and how to do it.

He takes you through the steps of stimulating yourself, explaining each sensation as it passes through your body. You can feel your heart racing and your breathing becoming more and more shallow.

Neteyam uses his fingers to separate your slick folds, and then he uses your fingers to trace over his touches.

“This right here, your clit, that’s your main focus.” He brings your fingers over it

Neteyam smiled up at you, he wanted to comment on how wet you were, but he didn’t want to embarrass you further. Though internally, it boosted his ego and simultaneously made his mouth water.

He guides your hand lower, lightly touching your most intimate areas. You blush at the sensation, embarrassed and aroused at the same time. He teases and tantalizes you until you can't take it anymore and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“Feeling alright?” He asked, looking up once again

“Mhm.” Was all you could manage

Without any warning to you, Neteyam began to ease one finger into you.

You gasp in surprise, making Neteyam smirk up at you. You desperately clench around his finger as he carefully prods at the spot that made you feel the best.

He continues to massage and caress you, slowly and gently pushing you deeper and deeper into pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge until finally you reach the peak of pleasure and let out a loud cry of ecstasy as you experience your very first orgasm.

“There you go, you feel so good.” He whispers to you

Neteyam's hands are still on you, gently soothing and calming you as you come down from the high. You feel exhausted but incredibly satisfied. You turn to him and smile.

“Neteyam, can I ask something from you?” Your eyes had a slightly worried look in them

“Of course. Anything.” He nodded, his hand resting on your hip

“I, I want you to…” You sigh, unsure how to form your words

“You want me to…?” His eyes stared at you intensely “To what? Use your words.”

“To be my first.” You practically whispered

“That’s what you want?” His head tilted slightly in concern “Me?”

You nod, at this point you were ready to just disappear in to the mossy ground you were both lying on.

“Okay… I’ll do it.” He looked at you, almost as scared as you were. “I’ve… never been with a virgin though, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No it’s alright.” You placed a hand on his shoulder “I want it to be you, I’d rather it would be you that hurt me than anyone else.”

With a gentle touch, he takes your face in his hands and leans in to kiss you. His lips are so soft, and his kiss lingers as his hands slowly make their way around your body.

His touch is so gentle and loving, it sends shivers down your spine. His hands keep exploring, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. He is so patient and understanding, and you feel safe and comfortable in his arms.

You felt a rush of heat flood through you and you opened your mouth to welcome his tongue. His lips moved with yours in a passionate dance that sent shivers down your spine. You felt his hands slide down your back and cup your bottom, pressing you even closer to him.

You could feel his hardness pressed against you and your legs began to tremble in anticipation. He pulled away for a moment, his breath hot against your neck, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. He took your hand and led you to the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.

He lays you down and hovered above you, his body covering yours. His lips moved down your neck and you felt his hands slide up your thighs. You gasped as his fingers brushed against the most intimate parts of you and his tongue explored the sensitive skin around your nipples.

“You’re really sure about this?” He asks one last time

“Yes.” You make eye contact with him, he could see the fear in your eyes but continued anyways.

Your heart raced and your breathing was heavy as he moved up and positioned himself between your legs. You felt his hard cock press against you and you let out a whinper as he slowly entered you.

“Mn- So- fuck- So tight.” Neteyam grunted softly

“Ah- Neteyam!” You cried out for him

“Right here baby… It’s alright, doing so good.” He groaned as he bottomed out inside of you “Sque- Fuck. Squeezing me so much.”

Your fingers dig into his biceps as you whine for him. A mix of pain and newfound pleasure overwhelming you. He gave you a long few moments to adjust to this new sensation. This new stretch.

“Can’t believe you hid this tight ass pussy from me.” He groaned as he began to gently grind his hips against yours “Shoulda let me in here a long time ago.”

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent.

Slowly, he began to rock in and out of you.

He slides his hand along your thigh, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. His touch is gentle, yet firm, and he knows exactly how to handle your body. His lips brush against yours, and you can't help but melt into his embrace.

He kisses you deeply, exploring your mouth with his tongue. You moan as He continues his gentle, yet deep thrusts into you. His hands explore your body, caressing and teasing you, all of the combined feelings turning you into a quivering, trembling mess.

He takes his time, savoring every moment.

“Doin’ so good for me.” He mumbled against your lips

He drove deep into you, intentionally deep, and your cries of pleasure fill the air. You can feel the intensity of his passion as he brings you ever closer to the brink.

“Oh, you gonna cum for me again?” He asked, sounding beautifully breathless

“Neteyam- Yes!” You cry for him.

“Mm… I might just cum for you too.” He groaned as you squeezed around him

His hand reached down, easily finding your clit again and began to rub gentle circles on it, giving you another leap towards the edge.

The sensations were overwhelming and you clung to him as he moved faster and faster. You cried out as your orgasm swept through you. You felt him tense, and then still.

Just as you begin to calm down, he grabs your hips and pushes in deep, filling you with his warm cum.

“Uh- Fuck.” He moaned, his head thrown back as he stilled himself completely.

After a second, he gently pulled out.

He lay beside you, his arms around you, and you felt a wave of contentment wash over you.

“Thank you Neteyam.” You whispered

“Mm, you’re welcome…” He peppered gentle kisses on your neck “From now on, all mine.”

“What?” Your eyes went wide

“You. You’re all mine.” He smiled against your neck, “C’mon, rest now, you did so much today.”

Taglist: @danniackerman @loaksslut