#cw corruption

[lostwrlds]

(✩) kind of into the idea that izuku poses as your best friend and always tells you that you can take whatever you need from him. so that he can always have access to you.

because he always wants to support you. he’d do anything for you! no matter the hour or the day, as long as you were happy and needed him. deku likes that role, no matter how ridiculous your wants and needs may be because he likes that he’s the only shoulder you rely on or only person who you turn to. he’s possessive in taking care of you, hiding dark thoughts and desires for more under starlight freckled smiles and airy laughs and comforting touches that go beyond just being friends.

then, his gentle smiles and unwavering support faltering when you get your first boyfriend.

how is he supposed to take care of you now, what, when there’s someone else by your side — doing everything a boyfriend should. izuku supposes he’ll should grateful — they’re not some narcissistic asshole taking advantage of your sweet soul.

but that doesn’t make the jealously go away. make his possessiveness disappear into nothingness. he’ll find a new way to be the one you lean on.

izuku will be the one who calms your worries when you express fears of being too inexperienced for your current partner. izuku will be the one who teaches you how to wrap your pretty, plump lips around cock and how to use your tongue just right. izuku will be the one to show you what it’s like to have your pussy at, tonguing at your clit and sucking on your folds so you’re ready for what it feels like. izuku will be the one to fuck you open, plow into your virgin hole in different positions all for the sake of preparing you for another man’s dick.

it’s izuku that you think about while underneath your boyfriend during your first time together. you can’t get his touch out of your head, the way his fingers possessively pulled you up to meet earth-shattering thrusts, the way his cock carved its shape along your sticky insides and the way he sounded — panting and huffing praises into your ears.

it’s izuku’s name you whisper when your boyfriend finally makes you cum because you’re picturing him above you with sweet eyes and soft reassuring smiles. it’s izuku you call with dread filling your system after a gnarly fight with your boyfriend and a back and forth of ‘me or him.’

izuku is the one who comes over to comfort you, tell you that you need no one else aside from him. and it’s always going to be izuku, he’s made sure of that.

RIGHTS RESERVED © LOSTWRLDS 2025. the content seen here belongs to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[sugurouge]

— flame of despair : soulmate! sukuna ryōmen x rebirthed! f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, historical au, noncon, monsterfucking, aggressive hair pulling, dacryphilia, hurtful pet names (whore & pet), yandere themes, reader is viewed as sukuna’s property, deep throating, cunnilingus, blood, mindbreak, misogyny (he makes a nasty remark about the role of a woman), degradation

summary: Each and every life of yours will always belong to Sukuna. He will remind you of that promise with every new life, no matter the methods used. The idea of romance and being bound to your partner by soul, the thing you always dreamt of, becomes ruined and reality turns out to be a living nightmare once your soulmate claims you.

wordcount: 2.5k | my kinktober masterlist

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

"No, no, let's try that again, pet."

The monster looming above you muses, mischief gleams deep in those dreadful red eyes as Sukuna watches your trembling form at his feet. You're exposed to him, the white fabric of your drape drenched with blood and water from the unfortunate weather of the recent weeks; almost as if some higher being has been angered by your reunion.

Your hair is a tangled mess from where Sukuna's claws dragged you to kneel in front of him, and your lips are bruised thanks to a previous blow to your once-pretty face. The bitter taste of iron taints your tongue, yet the flavours pale in comparison to the horror that awaits every time Sukuna decides to let you out of your cage to 'play'.

"I—"

"Who do you belong to?" Sukuna interrupts, shattering the last fragments of your dignity.

"N-no—"

No one. No one, you were trying to say. You’ve tried to tell him that for weeks, ever since he found you and claimed you, spouting wild fantasies of past lives and how, in every new one, he would always come to find you again.

But you can’t even force those two small words past your lips before a harsh slap to your cheekbone sends fresh tears streaming down your face, sobs erupting from your throat. The claws digging into your cheeks sting, they tear at your skin as sharply as his words pierce your soul. "You belong to me. You’re mine. My property, understand?"

He makes you nod, grinning as your tears glisten under the dim light of the fires dancing around his hall. "Repeat it for me." His deep voice rumbles ominously, the tip of his nose brushing almost affectionately against your tear-streaked cheek.

"I'm... I'm," you falter as your brows crease in disgust over the words about to escape your lips. You’d rather die than give him the satisfaction, the defiant glare in your eyes stating as much as you meet his gaze.

"Say it," he drawls, his voice is sending shivers down your spine. Four eyes bore into you as Sukuna seems to grow larger with each passing second, his presence is suffocating.

Yet here you are, as helpless as an infant, yet as brave as a tiger whilst you shake your head in his iron grip. You don’t even have time to blink before your face slams into the cold, unforgiving floor. Your cheek is pressed into a vile mixture of dried blood and water as a thunderstorm rages above, the temple trembling beneath its wrath.

You feel numb, the groan that escapes from deep within your lungs barely registering in your mind since you're fully overwhelmed by the high-pitched ringing that clouds your senses. But the violent tugging on your body snaps you back to this living nightmare as four hands tear at the flimsy fabric Sukuna dares to call a dress, leaving you naked and vulnerable under his cruel gaze.

Your tears mix with the blood running down the side of your temple as you stare up at him in horror. You wouldn’t even be able to attempt to cover yourself, your limbs feeling as though they don’t belong to you as they are pressed to the ground by two strong hands.

“Look at me.”

You comply, your eyes slowly focusing on the blurry demon as you blink the tears away. “Stop, please…” you hear your own voice, shaky and weak, yet apparently utterly entertaining to Sukuna, judging by the grin etched on his face.

He guides your nimble fingers over his muscular body, across his black markings and prominent pecs, as his lips graze your ear. “If you’d stop being so ungrateful… you could enjoy all of this,” his faint whisper tickles your neck, his hot breath contrasting with the icy cold water on your back. “Just say you’re mine. Admit it.”

“I’m not yours.” You don’t even have time to groan as a third hand snakes around your throat and applies pressure to your airways, nails tearing through the first layer of your skin and continuing to dig deeper into your flesh.

“You’re mine. You have been mine from the moment you were born, you dumb whore!” he snarls, fingers forcing their way through your tangled hair, exposing your neck to his teeth. Sukuna savours every drop of your blood, every dried tear and bead of sweat before his teeth sink into your body, eliciting a defeated whine from you. Yet it’s the fourth hand applying pressure to your hip bone that has you gasping in horror, a new set of tears welling up along your lash line as you vehemently shake your head in denial.

“You’ve been mine ever since your village offered me my soulmate, isn’t that right?” he breathes, the devilish grin returning to his lips as he leans in to kiss you harshly. His tongue invades your mouth, spreading the taste of your blood to every corner before he pulls back, leaving only a thin string of saliva connecting your bodies— as faint and delicate as your bond to this monster.

“They threw you at my feet. Offered me my toy to play with in exchange for protection.” His lips trail between your breasts, greedily pressing against your heaving chest and staining your skin as Sukuna’s journey takes him further south.

“Dumb as they are. As if I’d let anyone live who treats my property with such shame.” Sukuna traces the lines of your bondmark; the action almost seems adoring by how gentle his touch is before his nail redraws the lines in red.

“You’re mine,” his eyes snap up to your face. “You’ll forever be mine. With every reincarnation, I’ll find you, claim you, and break you until you’re my queen again.”

Your voice finds its way back to you in this moment, as you cry out from the pain Sukuna inflicts on your body, his words reminding you of the horrors you witnessed that day.

How your mother dressed you in her finest dress and let you play princess, promising you the world as soon as you found your soulmate. Only for your father to push you to your knees in front of a demon, a curse—him. Sukuna Ryomen.

And your eyes saw the lines on his side as the top of his yukata pooled around his hips. The same devious mark you had on your body ever since you were a baby.

You were cursed. The entire village treated you like a lesser being, like filth and a secret, promised to stay hidden until they could rid themselves of you—all because of legends passed down for hundreds of years about the only weakness the King of Curses holds.

They all too willingly tore the beautiful dress off your body and gave the devil not what he came for, but what he most desired.

“I don't want to be a monster’s queen,” your bold statement makes Sukuna’s face deform into a hideous mask, violent laughter erupting from deep within his chest at the fighting spirit you try to uphold. “Were you not dreaming of the day your soulmate would find you like all those other pathetic little mortals do?” The words are nothing but a murmur; Sukuna doesn’t even make it sound like a question, and he leaves no room for your reply either—not when black nails dig into the fat of your thighs or strong hands pin down your wrists to the floor. “I understand, you must be claimed, to learn to appreciate your life at my feet, pet.”

The most disgusting part of this moment is not the grimace looming above you, or the horror in Sukuna’s eyes, no, it's the feeling of a wet, hot tongue lapping at your cunt while this abnormality holds you spread open like you’re on a serving plate.

Sukuna sees the aversion on your face, the way your eyes squint before you have to look away once the pleasure starts to feel undeniable as he fucks you open on his tongue. The squelching is so lewd, you can only cry over yourself.

“Stop your miserable act, whore,” Sukuna punctuates his words with a deep thrust of the thick tongue from his stomach, forcing a moan from you whether you like it or not.

The hand around your small wrists hurts, feeling as if Sukuna wants to actively burn his fingerprints into your skin as his eyes stare into the depths of your soul. You know where his tugging leads, know what you feel when the hot, sticky sensation meets the palm of your hand. Encased between your much smaller and Sukuna’s own large palm are his cocks. Your whimpers are unending as he forces your hand to drag over their shafts, his maniacal stare into your disgusted face unwavering. How dare you continue to insult him like that? You should feel grateful for his attraction towards you.

You whine the moment your head hits the floor once more, Sukuna easily pressing your form against the stone-cold ground, finally forcing your eyes to snap up to look directly into his red gaze.

There is no such thing as tenderness to be found in them, no love, no sympathy. The concept of soulmates is nothing but a nightmare for you.

“You’re hurting me…” you whisper in desperation, yet Sukuna only basks in this newfound tenderness in your eyes as fat tears stream down your cheeks.

“Then stop denying me!” Sukuna growls right next to your ear. His dominance and your own fear send shivers down your spine, rendering you limp beneath him.

The rough pads of his fingers squish your face beneath his grip—disabling you from facing anything but him. “You could have another fulfilled life…” Is this tenderness you see in his eyes? Love he held for the yous from the past? It can't be. Not him. “But you leave me no choice.” In one fell swoop, you find yourself back on your knees, your face brought up right in front of the tips of his cocks.

The cold flooring hurts your joints, making you wince once more, but your sounds are all the same to Sukuna—simply confirmation of his influence on your body. In pleasure or pain? Who cares.

However, he notices the slight shake of your head. It's causing his grip on your hair to tighten, eliciting another loud whine from you.

Your dainty fingers try to ease his grip to no avail. “Please, I don't de—” but the loud gulp of your throat cuts off any protest. The thick tip of Sukuna’s shaft spreads your mouth beyond your imagination, the salty flavour of his pre-cum coating your tongue and messing with your taste buds before he prods at the entrance to your throat, muscles trembling around his infiltration. You struggle to keep the choking at bay, swallowing back any disgusting liquids threatening to crawl back up.

Sukuna groans in satisfaction. His darkened eyes stare down at your weak figure, admiring your hollowed cheeks and stretched lips. His thumb sweetly swipes over your cheekbone, followed by a slap to the same area. When he pulls back, you choke up a mixture of nasty fluids, but there is no time to recover due to the way he forces your head to stay in place. Once more, you are overwhelmed by his length, his second needy cock now taking the spot inside your mouth. “Silence and a breedable womb are the best presents a woman can give.” As if to highlight his words, Sukuna pushes in deeper, the choked squeal of your panic drowned by his girthy cock as he holds your head in place, nails harshly digging into your scalp as he bottoms out.

His pelvis presses against your mouth and nose to further restrict your breathing. Every attempt at swallowing your saliva makes you feel his cock even more, it's almost impossible to stay conscious as Sukuna opts to abuse your throat only seconds after he enters you.

It hurts—the pistoning of his hips, the repetitive assault on your throat by his thick member, and the hateful words hitting your skin with no form of defence.

Demands to take it, to stop being weak and disgusting, are just a few of the many insults you have to endure. By now, your nails have left nasty scratches on his thighs as you desperately try to relieve some of the pain he forces on your body, while your mind isn’t sure if passing out would be the safer option for your sanity.

Tears won’t stop running down your face. The mixture of your spit, tears, and his arousal creates a nearly disgusting flavour in your mouth, causing you to gag further on his cock.

“Get your act together,” Sukuna bites. At this point, it actually feels like he is ripping strands of your hair out due to his harshness.

But you can’t—it’s impossible, especially once you feel him twitch at the back of your throat, prodding against the muscles of your pharynx. The second your tongue can nearly trace the load of cum being pumped through his shaft, Sukuna pulls out. You didn’t have time to notice him stroking his second cock, couldn’t register fast enough the fate you were about to meet as one of his hands holds your head in place.

Sukuna’s deep moan rings through the echoing hall and sears into your memory while the white-hot seed lands on your face and chest, tainting your figure with his cum.

It’s the most humiliating way of claiming you.

Sukuna kneels down to be at eye level with you, proudly taking in his all-white masterpiece before his thumb swipes part of his load off your cheek and holds it in front of your lips.

You glare at him, the hatred in your eyes a challenge he will fuck out of you. “Dumb little bird,” he murmurs while smearing his cum over your tightly sealed lips before hoisting you up and over his shoulder in an instant.

Sometimes it is best to show patience. Most of the time, it is better to teach through pain. Your fate for the night shall be to learn to love your throne, positioned on top of Sukuna’s lap, stuffed beyond your capabilities until either your mind or your body gives out first.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[rottenk1sses]

convincing preachers son!art that it’s okay for him to fuck your tits, that it doesn’t count because he isn’t actually in you.

"that's it, honey, just like that," you murmur, pushing your tits together while you sit at the back of the empty church, letting art shakily stand in front of you and slide himself between your soft mounds.

as soon as his swollen tip gets engulfed by your flesh, he's keening and losing his footing—staggering to curl over your frame below him and using his free hand to squeeze your shoulder.

“u-uhm.. i don’t think.. im gonna last..” he breathes out between hiccuped gasps. his hips are already starting to rock uncontrollably, and his shaft is rubbing incessantly in the valley between your breasts. you can tell by the flushed, crumpled expression glossing over his face that he’s pretending he’s actually inside you.

you shake your head, “shh, that’s okay—you’re alright..”

he squeezes his eyes shut, a ringlet of gold hair slipping between his brows, bouncing and dangling like the little cross he sometimes wears around his neck (tucked under his shirt and hidden away, just like the hickeys you put on his chest days ago). he’s properly fucking into the tight gap now. panting and trembling like a scared little kitten. you know he still feels guilty for all of this, but you’d stroked his cheek beforehand and reassured him by emphasizing how it’s not actual sex.. and he seemed to take that and run with it pretty easily.

his fingers dig into your shoulder and his eyes are suddenly fluttering open to allow you to see his pair of watery blue irises roll back into his head. his neck rolls too and then his face is tipping towards the high ceiling of the building.

“oh, please,” he shudders, his noises spilling out quicker and higher in pitch, “please, can i? can i, please..? oh, oh, OH—!”

he nearly squeals, and you don’t even get the chance to give him permission to finish before you feel his heavy length throb between your tits with every wave of pleasure that shatters his system. you could cook an egg on him, for sure—he’s burning up all over, cumming thick ropes up your chest and onto your collarbone area. one particularly heavy splurt actually hits your chin, and you have to laugh so he doesn’t think you’re mad. he whimpers and bites at his bottom lip as he looks down to meet your eyes. he gives two more shallow, stuttered thrusts before he collapses over you, holding your head to his chest like you’re the only thing keeping him from breaking down with shame.

“please, feels s’good.. ‘m still—ngh,” another dribble of white fluid leaks out from his slit and sticks to your skin. you let go of your breasts to reach up and caress his sides. he sniffles.

“was that so good?”

“.. r-really good..”

“good. next time we’ll try my mouth, hm?”

a little moan breaks past his lips, and you feel his cock bob with interest against your body, but he manages a nod.

“.. yes, please..”

[xazse]

Hi!! I love your work. I'd like to make a request, Satoru x Innocent!reader, if you have time you can do it, and if not, then I'll understand. :)

Tw: Satoru x innocent!reader + smut + fem!reader + corruption kink + pussyeating + not a lot of smut I’m sorry! I was just rushed to get this out so you didn’t think I was ignoring you!

Notes: HI IM SO HAPPY YOU LOVE MY WORKS!! (Sorry this took so long I was thinking of a good prompt but here you go I hope you like it!!) and if you didn’t want fem!reader just tell me and I’ll revise it!

I absolutely love the idea of you having some vague information on sex but not a lot, too busy plopping your face in books almost all your life, romance and stuff didn’t interest you when you had parents who wanted you to solely think about school and college.

And when you get to college you’re completely dumbstruck by the relationships around you. Everyone around you seems to have someone special to them but here you are too busy for things like that. Sex handn’t ever crossed your mind that is until you meet Satoru the first ever boy to show actual interest in you, he’s as sweet as they come, clingy but very funny.

A year with him has happened so fast and you’ve felt nothing but bliss with him, he’s truly one of a kind.

Satoru and you are relaxing on your fluffy bed, he’s lounging on your body like he usually is, always needing to be close to you regardless of where you are. But today he’s extra touchy with you, feeling up your waist and burying himself deep in your tummy which in turn makes you giggle.

Satoru is going quite mad, he doesn’t know how many times he can see you in those short shorts and tiny camisole for him to finally pin you down and fuck you, everytime he hints at intimacy you just give him the most confused look ever, you don’t pick up on his words and that also drives him crazy. Crazy in a good way. He loves the fact that you don’t even seem the least bit interested in sex, he wants to be the one to take your virginity and him only.

And now feels like the perfect moment, he starts kissing up the column of your neck and you surprisingly don’t pull away though you do sit still as a board whilst his lips wander all over your neck, leaving deep purple hued marks all over.

That night Satoru has a hard time controlling himself with you, he knows he’s supposed to ease you into sex but the way his fingers can barely filt pass your tight hole has him groaning out loud, every hitch of your breath from the pain makes his cock throb. He’s getting off to the simple fact that you’ve never had anything in there.

He pulses his fingers in and out of you in a repeated motion, spurring on those cute whines that slip out nonstop.

He spreads you open further on your bed so he can get the full view of your beautiful cunt, your little clit throbs for attention and he most definitely gives it that attention, the nub twitches nervously every sift of his fingers against it.

He licks his first taste of you directly up the middle of your pussy, dragging against your folds as you buck against his hips. That little action elicits that much from you? Oh Satoru is going to have so much fun ruining you.

You take his cock like a champ, he whispers that bit in your ear while you’re fucked out. It was an extremely tight fit even with all the prep he gave you but nonetheless Satoru fought agaisnt the tight ring of your pussy, he has you cum around him multiple times that night.

[jesuistrestriste]

https://x.com/yesmissrain/status/1778208418991620554?s=46 this with art

Also I didn’t know if I should send this ask to your other account since it’s a little iffy so if you feel like it belongs there that’s cool :))

taking nerdy!art's virginity at stanford and teaching him how to properly move his hips when he's inside someone.... watching the red tint that's washed over his cheeks deepen when he finally gets the hang of things and begins snapping his pelvis against your ass, buried as deep as he possibly can be in your arousal.. breathy, urgent moans into your neck.. his hands groping and grasping desperately at your shoulders because he can hardly handle the reality of what it feels like to actually have sex.. too warm, too tight, too animalistic.. he looks like a complete wreck

and you can't stand the idea of his first time involving the pull-out method, no way–not when he's on top of you, sweaty and whimpering and mumbling about how it feels like his cock is melting off–so you take the liberty of wrapping your legs around him when he cries out that he's "so close", smirking and whispering in his ear to let it all out inside you.. to fill you up.. to give you his first creampie..

its a command he simply cannot refuse !

[kabr0ztrousers]

I would love to a part 2 to 61:Angels & Demons!! Maybe some angels go looking for him and get caught by the hell hounds and they end up forming a demon/hellhound orgy.

Idek I just want more corruption of angels tbh ;)

Kabr0z Writes Episode 150: Search Party

This episode will make more sense if you've read Episode 61

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

I swear I'm gonna update the AO3 eventually!

CWs: dubcon; coercion; corruption; pain; transformation; knotting; oral sex;

A/N: I feel like the CWs for these episodes are starting to get similar... Maybe I need a beta reader to help me catch stuff I don't. Although if any of y'all get a squick you weren't warned about, give me a shout and I can always amend them

###################################

Oriniel was missing. He had been for months, last seen three months ago descending from Heaven. A week later, the beurocracy started to notice his work piling up. An investigation was launched and agents dispatched to Earth to search. Scouring the entirety of creation for a single missing angel would take time though, and you wanted your friend back.

You'd worked with him for the last millennium or so, scouring the fiction sections of the humans libraries, recommending works to one another while waiting for choir practice to start. The other angels were understanding, but put too much faith in their systems. You weren't content to wait for a full search. You knew a faster way, it wasn't strictly permitted, but back channels exist for a reason.

Your first trick was writing a coded message. When you got down there you'd publish it to the internet in a story. The immaculate algorithm would immediately recognise it for what it is and send it to the celestial codebreakers. The story is unimportant, it exists to be decoded, the really vital thing was making sure it took at least a few days to break, and of course the content. Your name, where you're going, who you're meeting, and an instruction: don't look for me.

The flight to Earth was easy. Go down. Listen for a prayer, latch on to it. Follow it in. Someone's always praying for something, it doesn't matter who's praying, what they're asking for, it didn't even matter who they were praying to as long as they weren't trying to call up a demon. What mattered was the intention, the right intention and the prayer's all you need to slip into the mortal realm.

Sure enough you found one, someone praying for a new car to somehow land in their lap. It probably wouldn't be answered, but that didn't matter. You locked onto it, angling your flight down the metaphysical contour, slipping into the human's world a dozen or so miles above what you're pretty sure was Britain.

Always nice when you appear nearby to where you needed to go.

You zoned in on a desanctified church you were familiar with. Far enough from any collection of people that you weren't going to be disturbed. You flew unseen, millions of people lived on this rainy island, and not one of them ever seemed to look up.

The church was quiet, only accessible through a hole in the roof. Ivy grew in through broken windows, mouldering pews scattered the floors. You dragged the furniture, such as it was to one side, taking a couple of slivers of rotting wood as you did.

The ritual to call forth the demon was simple. A thimbleful of mouse blood and the pair of wooden chips, applied with just the right know-how, and you'd done it.

The thinned veil of the church bent, warping under the strain of the ritual, before it snapped altogether, and the demon stepped through the gap.

Silusirex, an augur of some repute. Not above working with angels, despite the aeons long cold war between your peoples. Calling him here was forbidden. If word got out you'd made a deal with him, you'd be demoted. Depending on the deal, that might be lenient.

Silusirex stood before you, examining his nails. He didn't have a face, merely a void where a face would be. If you looked straight into it, you could see the void extended far beyond the back of his head, into unknown space behind him, inky black, filled with stars. His skin was white as white could be, shadows refused to fall on it, though it emitted no light of its own. Instead, where he stood it seemed as though someone had cut a demon-shaped hole in the world, showing the pale nothing behind. His nails were long, and black, his feet bare, a crown of ivory atop his head, held in place by black iron horns growing through gaps strategically drilled in the yellowing bone.

As with so many demons, he didn't wear a stitch. Where you hid your feminine body under a shapeless cassock, not even cinching the waist to display your hips, he left nothing to the imagination. Indeed, the one detail of his torso he chose to draw attention to, the only part of him that didn't blend into the sea of flat, featureless white, was a sheath between his legs.

You found your eyes drawn to that sheath. You knew enough about demons to know you were probably going to become intimately familiar with it soon. An augur can answer a great many questions, but a price is exacted. You stared so long you didn't notice his gaze turn to you

"Why have you summoned me, angel? What would you ask of the Grand Augur of the Ashen Radiant?"

His voice was like a headache, ringing in the back of your skull.

You winced. You'd never felt pain before. It wasn't much fun. Then the pain subsided, and you wanted more

"I have come to find someone" you spoke clearly, putting the unbidden desire from your mind "A missing angel named Oriniel"

Silusirex laughed. You clutched the sides of your head as it thundered through you. Your mouth parted slightly, a trickle of bloody saliva, glittering and golden, dripped from your lower lip.

"I know where the one you seek is, and I will tell you. But you must meet my price, angel, or you will never hear it from me"

You stared into the void of his face, waiting for the pain to subside again. Your heart fluttered. You were anxious. You'd never been anxious before, not about anything. You were protected by the ritual, that much is true. If the price is too great, you'll just leave, let the demon slip back into Hell and be home before anyone's the wiser, with plenty of time before your code hits the beurocracy in order to take it back.

"Name your price, demon"

He smiled. You're not sure how a creature with no mouth smiles, but you know he did "Get on your knees, open your mouth, and don't resist"

You could see the tip of his cock poking out of the sheath. Blood red against white flesh. You swallowed hard, hearing him chuckle as you weighed up your options. You'd heard of angels giving head before and not falling, but you'd also heard about desire. How when it starts, it's hard to stop. How you could end up chasing it and chasing it until before you realised the path you're on it's too late.

The laughter bounced around your head. It hurt. You wanted more. You needed more.

Your knees hit the ground.

Your hands rested on your legs.

Your mouth opened.

He stepped into you.

The first thing you noticed was the smell. It wasn't bad. You'd always expected a cock to smell repulsive, of ammonia and old sweat. This didn't smell like that. There was a hint of something musky, like the smell that clings to someone after a run, and something else you couldn't place, sweet, sharp, savoury, all at once.

The next thing was the size of it. Silusirex's hand was at his crotch, working the length of his member free from the sheath. You watched with awe as it just kept growing in his hand. By the time the knot sprung free, it had gone from being an inch-long nub poking from the end of the sheath to a gross protuberance, well over a foot long and three inches thick in places, the knot even wider than that.

You steeled your resolve. You're here for Oriniel. You balled your hands into fists, gripping the hem of your robe and closed your eyes. You couldn't get the image of it out of your head though, nor could you stop your mouth from watering at the thought of it.

Long-nailed fingers gripped your hair. Only one hand, the other off doing Heavens know what. He pulled you in, sliding himself down your throat.

You gagged. The cock was already at your tonsils, seeping precum into your throat.

You could feel yourself blushing, only imagining how you look right now, a demon's cock not even halfway in your mouth. You couldn't help but picture it, an angel being towered over by a demon, feathery white wings twitching helplessly as she gags on his cock, him guiding her over just the last third. He hasn't even really forced you yet. He could if he wanted to. He could drag you down to his hilt, use your throat like a pussy: a warm, wet hole to fuck, to empty his throbbing, pendulous balls into.

Fuck. Why isn't he?

Your hand leaves your thigh, jumping to the one in your hair. Silusirex's grip loosened for a split second, before you curled his fingers between your thick locks. You took him as deep as you could, to the very edge, after which your body wouldn't let you continue, still holding his hand, guiding him.

"What's this? My my my, the angel wants more?"

Again, the pain in the back of your brain. It focused your mind, made you want it more, harder, every sinew in your body screamed for it.

You nodded.

He pushed.

Your hand wasn't needed any more. You'd altered the deal, and he'd accepted. You could feel him halfway down your throat. You couldn't help it. Your other hand strayed up your thigh. You felt wetness spreading over your crotch. Your fingers touched it. A strum of pleasure raced through you, like someone had plucked the lowest note on a guitar.

You lifted your hand to inspect it. A thin film of silvery liquid strung between your index and middle fingers. You held it up for the demon to see, you're not sure why.

"Why, little angel, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

You moaned when the pain started, your eyes unable to focus. The wetness spreading beneath your clothing.

You nodded.

Silusirex pulled out of your mouth.

You gasped as he pulled you up by the hair, bending you over a pew.

He gathered your cassock in one hand, baring your ass and glinting pussy to him. His cock sat at the entrance to your cunt

"Only if you want it, angel, but I won't be held responsible for what happens next"

You whined for him, reaching backwards to stroke his cock, shifting yourself to tease the tip

"Close enough"

Hands closed around your waist as he pressed his weight into you. You moaned as his cock parted you, your hips working with him, riding him as he fucked you from behind. You could feel his tip knocking on the door of your cervix.

It hurt like hell. Wave after wave of pain flooded you, every grinding press into your cunt made him prod harder. You didn't care.

Your halo squealed above you. Your legs started to shake. Your mouth dropped open. Your hands gripped his.

Then

Release

You squirted when you came. First it was silver, then steel, then iron, then pitch. The screaming metal run over your head shattered, shards sticking into your head. Your skin bubbled and changed, your body becoming softer, more pliable. Sensation filled you as a thousand hyper-sensitive clits grew along the depth of your cunt, each one throbbing as you pushed back upon the demon. Your wings burned to ash, feathers blackening and falling as so much dust.

You were complete.

You wanted more.

You looked back at Silusirex, willing him on. You bucked your hips "fuck me, daddy, and make it hurt"

The demon behind you laughed. You groaned. He pulled your hair, he dug his stilleto-sharp nails into your back. He burned you with magic and slapped your ass. Every new punishment he gave you made you clench and leak around him. Every shock of pain brought you a little closer.

He stuffed his cock the rest of the way into you. You felt it slam into your back wall, forcing through the tiny entrance to your womb. The pain was exquisite, flooding you, making your eyes roll and your head spin.

Then he knotted you.

He was all the way in. His hips kissed yours, over and over again as he tugged the knot out, and slammed it back in. Every thrust stretched your ruined cunt harder. Every time he hit the top of your womb, sending waves of sweet agony through you. More inky-black squirt sprayed from you, soaking both your legs, pooling on the floor.

You collapsed, no longer possessing the energy to prop yourself up.

He knotted you for the last time, cum streaming from him as he held your waist, keeping your hips tight against his as he cooed to you.

He lifted you up, a new demon in the arms of her creator, and carried you to your new home.

He'd tell you of your friend's fate, of course, but that could wait until you woke up

[deliriuxe]

Fuck, I need me a darker timeline of Baggs joining Nightmare's gang where Nightmare is not-so-nice to his subordinates, and upon Baggs' detest or even defiance of such treatment of those presently under his care, Nightmare decides to forego his usual punishments and instead forcibly corrupt the Doctor's mind and soul: whether through Nightmare's Negativity/Magic, brainwashing, or a combination of both...

[mini-ism]

#— CORRUPTION FT. WELT

⋆ warnings: ADULT CONTENT (MDNI). corruption kink, slight manipulation, pretty ooc, praise kink, loss of innocence. NO BETA READ!

⋆ pairings: welt yang x reader (gender neutral)

⋆ notes: i just thought welt with a corruption kink would be hot 😓 hopefully this fulfills its intended purpose

⋆ welt just can’t get enough of you, of this. you’re just so, so good, and he’s just a dirty old man. you look so incredible, so delicate, so innocent, even while you sit on his cock. you ask him, “am i doing it right?” awaiting his praise. he tells you that you’re doing wonderfully, that you’re so good for him. you love the way his praises make you feel. he loves that you’ll do anything, even if it’s dirty and against your morals, just for his approval.

⋆ welt loves when you bend over for him. he loves how apprehensive you are at first, but when it’s him and his sweet, loving words, you’ll submit. he loves that you don’t know how dirty he is, how dirty his actions are. you’re his perfect little angel, he’s gonna show you what feels really good.

⋆ welt adores how you’ve grown to love the vulgar things he makes you do for him. he loves how lewd you can get, mostly without realizing it. his encouragement can push you to do absolutely anything. he loves the way you’ll let him touch you whenever, he loves when you submit without any defiance. he adores when he gets to use you like a toy.

⋆ welt gets so turned on when you beg for more. something about seeing you lose your innocence, piece by piece, to him, while you mewl for more is so erotic. you beg for him to do filthier things to you, to defile your being and innocence, to take over your every thought, to make you sex-crazed and impure. he adores the power he has over you, stirring that greedy part of you to ask for more.

⋆ welt’s actions and words are so different, he’s particularly brutal with the way he fucks you, but the way he speaks to you makes you scream for him, scream for more, it pushes you to your absolute limit. he urges you to let go of your purity, to ignore every limit and every ounce of morality left within you. he’s so good at what he does, he’s so good at getting you to do what he wants. it’s hot watching you submit to the carnal pleasure he’s giving you, watching the innocence in your eyes twinkle and fade away. you’re so naughty for him.

[sugurouge]

— diabolic waltz : getō suguru x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, dubcon/noncon, yandere themes, size difference, strength difference, corruption, power dynamics/imbalance (reader refers to geto as master), pet names (doll, whore, toy, bunny, little one), hair pulling, water torture/forced drowning/waterboarding, punishment, deep throating, mind break, degradation

summary: You should know better than to behave greedy or entitled, but if he so sweetly entices you to misbehave, even the impeding punishment doesn't stop you from taking what you need. Until it's time to pay up. And Getō makes sure you always pay your debts.

wordcount: 2k | my kinktober masterlist

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

Geto rests comfortably in his armchair, dark purple eyes rake over your needy body—only hidden beneath a layer of satin. With you in his lap, there is at least a sort of solace to his tiresome days. He likes to view you as a sick way of rewarding himself, his prize for making it through another 24 hours. Hence why you're always kept on display whenever it's just the two of you. Him and his property, the weak human that somehow won his twisted interest. Nothing more than eye candy for him. You're so pretty until you turn needy and start talking too much.

"Master, please—" you start your advances all over again. Ever so prettily as your nails drag over Geto's exposed chest; you have long since pushed aside the layers of his attire.

Geto heaves a heavy sigh. It's his first indicator for you to shut your pretty mouth before he sends curses your way. Yet, simultaneously, he can't resist the torture; cannot keep his right leg from bouncing to cause friction against your puffy lips. Teasing you further to hear more whimpers instead of your actual voice.

Your hands press against his body as you try to control the bouncing, but the friction created by your dress brushing against your nipples makes it impossible to form coherent or cautious thoughts. Your legs clench around Geto's muscular thigh, attempting to maintain the pleasurable feeling.

"You really wish to bother me like that right now?" His dangerously low voice challenges. Suguru is well aware that he is the cause of your distress, but would he ever admit that? Not in a million lifetimes.

You know full well what will happen if you say yes, how your day will turn out if you give in to your own neediness when your master isn't the one to initiate. Your glossy orbs beg him without another word spilling from your lips as you nod.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You're just so dumb; how could he not adore you? The minor tilt of his head gives you the okay to shed your dress, to expose your perfectly clean body to his eyes. It's one of his priorities, to always have his doll look prim and proper. Soft and dewy skin, rose oil spoiling your figure to make it shine in the low afternoon light and envelop you in faux innocence for him to ruin.

You sink down to your knees right between his legs, your delicate fingers running over his muscular thighs up to his stomach, but the "tsk" coming from Geto's lips has you freeze immediately. Doe eyes look up at his intimidating stare, while his entire face remains stoic—almost bored, as he rests his cheek in one of his palms.

"Hand or thigh, no cock," he bluntly states.

You try to suppress the whine rising in your throat, try not to furrow your brows at his statement.

"Well, what will it be, bunny?"

He doesn't actually ask. Geto simply enjoys oversaturating your lusty mind with difficult decisions. You're always so afraid he will leave you.

"Hand, please, please," you bat your lashes at him even though you're painfully aware of how little effect it has on him. Yet he pats his thigh, indicating for you to sit on his lap once again. Your body follows suit.

"Any other wishes?" Narrowed eyes stare at you, they make you feel small and vulnerable as his hand dances along your thigh, drawing close to your needy pussy.

Your eyes snap down to his dishevelled clothes, raking over the layers of fabric that hide his perfect body from your gaze and touch.

You inhale sharply the moment his fingers snap you out of your thoughts, penetrating your walls deeply without warning and immediately curling against your clamping muscles. Yes, Geto might be okay with listening to your begs once in a while, but his pleasure lies in overwhelming your pathetic body, not preparing you softly.

Your head lolls back, fingers holding onto his shoulders, though they twitch to run through his black strands. You are well aware of the fact that he'd never let you ruin his hair.

Soft moans spill from your parted lips. He taught you to stay quiet, to not ruin his image of you—his sweet doll.

Yet the feeling is too good. The way his fingers stretch your cunt, your slick dripping down over his digits and palm. Your hips roll against his hand, pretty whines causing your chest to heave so perfectly for Geto to enjoy the sight of your tits.

He adds a third finger with ease and uses his thumb to draw intricate patterns on your clit, applying more pressure on the nub once he feels you tighten around him. "Such a needy whore..." he mumbles impassively.

But his cold voice, the boredom laced in his words mixed with his brutal ministrations, are exactly what you've grown to love from your master. It's so clear that you're doing something wrong, that you're messing up his perfect routine—but you just can't help it.

Your whines grow louder, small fingers now gripping onto his wrist as the coil in your stomach tightens further and further before it explodes. You fall forward, against Geto's chest, covering his neck area with moans, tears, and sweat as you gush all over his hand and dirty his robes.

Goosebumps run over your heavenly skin, clearly proving how overwhelmingly good he can make you cum with just his hand by now.

"Disgusting..."

You flinch slightly at that, eyes squeezing shut from just one word coming from Geto. He pulls his hand out of your tight cavern, your slick clearly coating his skin as a scowl spreads on his face. "You enjoy this? Staining me with your slutty needs?"

You create some distance between your bodies, shamefully staring at his hand before your eyes trail over his tainted clothes. You didn't plan on this happening, didn't plan to make such a mess, especially not over him, but why does he have to be this good?

Being a disappointment still has the same effect on you as it did from the start, causing tears to spill from your eyes as your body starts to shiver. "'M sorry, I didn’t—I wanted—"

"Time for a bath, no?" he sighs and gets up, pushing your smaller body off his lap with little care as disgust is clearly painted on his features.

Your butt meets the hardwood flooring and you try frantically to stop the tears from running down your face. Pleading ever-so sweetly with a shaky voice for your "Master..." to have mercy.

The clacking of his shoes stops the moment he stands beside your body once again. Long fingers card through your locks before he kneels beside you and tugs at your roots.

"How much longer are you going to make me wait, little one, hm?"

The sting on your scalp rips you out of your struggling mind; it forces you to rely on your instincts if you want to get out of this unscathed tonight. "Forgive me," you whisper.

So incredibly cute.

Geto takes a deep breath, eyes running over your body as he hums. "Five minutes."

You nod in perfect understanding and immediately grab your gown before hurrying over to the bathroom.

Aftercare is important, he always tells you. And aftercare you shall give him.

So you let water fill the spacious bathtub, let the most expensive bubble bath fill the room with a soothing scent as you light candles to set the mood and welcome Suguru in.

You stand in front of his large frame, looking up at his face to grant you permission to undress him, carefully undoing the ties of his gown before letting the heavy garments hit the floor. You will wash them as well.

Only his briefs aren't yours to touch as he walks past you and finishes undressing himself before he sinks into the warm bathwater.

You watch him the entire time—how he leans back against the expensive porcelain of the tub, arms resting around the rim—looking oh so inviting. His eyes meet your gaze, appreciating your obedient state as he slightly tilts his head to make your body move.

You follow his silent order, going down on your knees right behind his back, cool fingertips carefully reaching out to lie on his tensed back.

The stark difference in temperature makes Geto hiss in annoyance, slightly flinching out of your reach as he glares over his shoulder. You are quick now to rub your hands together, mumbling your apologies before trying to touch him once again.

Small fingers soothe his skin, spoiling his muscles. You always start with his shoulders, using a sponge to have the warm water coat his exposed back and chest, massaging the well-trained area until his breathing calms down and little groans escape his throat.

Only then do you move on to kneel next to him, carefully admiring his relaxed features—he looks almost angelic. So calm, almost innocent.

Until his eyes meet yours and he holds out his hand to you. The exact hand he used to make you cum and that was tainted with your juices.

You focus on it, carefully massaging his fingers and ‘cleaning’ him further. "Good little doll..." Suguru breathes his praise out between his soft lips. It's usually the only compliment you receive, so you make sure to savour it.

You smile gently and finish up your care of his hand until he takes it out of your hold. He brushes your hair out of your face, leading his hand to reach around the back of your neck as you bend over the bathtub, nails digging painfully into your scalp while being pulled forward to be met with the bathwater.

You squeeze your eyes shut immediately, trying desperately to keep your lips sealed as you're pushed beneath the surface. Your nails grab onto the porcelain of the tub, weak muscles trying desperately to stop him from shoving you down further, but it's to no avail. He's much stronger than you'll ever be.

Geto lifts your head back up out of the water, and you suck the air back into your lungs—which quickly mixes with the bathwater as he dunks your head down again.

Your screaming is drowned by the transparent liquid all around you.

It becomes a loop—the pain of him tugging at your roots, being met with the cold air of the bathroom before he pushes you down again.

It becomes a loop—the pain of him tugging at your roots, the cold air of the bathroom meeting your skin before he pushes you down again. Your mind loses focus, your fight grows mellow until he pushes his erect cock between your lips. It jolts you back awake. Not only are you drowning in the water, but you also have his thick shaft infiltrating your mouth. Tears mix with the water, nails digging into his abs and thighs as your attempts to scream vibrate along his cock.

Geto groans. His eyes roll into their sockets as he completely relishes the feeling of your convulsing throat around his member—all while in the comfort of his bathtub. But he has to stop. Sadly, at some point, he remembers you’re not actually a doll. Your body grows slack, and the struggling of your throat diminishes.

Only then does he pull your head out of the water, letting your body slump over the edge of the tub as he slaps your cheeks until you wake up. Your head pounds as you choke up water; it almost feels like someone is ripping your lungs apart.

“Stupid toy…” Geto mumbles, already dragging your head down and forward again.

“No, no, please, not again!” you frantically plead, and he stops—stops right before the surface of the water meets the tip of your nose.

“Why not? I made you cum how you wanted to as well, didn’t I?” he analytically proclaims. “Now suck like I taught you.”

The sting of the water is maddening; only the stretch of his cock against the back of your mouth inflicts more pain upon your body as he guides you up and down with water infiltrating your lungs.

It all becomes a blur in the end, and it’s hard to tell what is real and what a bad dream when you wake up the next morning in your soft king-sized bed, dressed in one of his favourite baby dolls, and his strong arms around you.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[rottenk1sses]

showing pastors son!art your pussy for the first time and giving him full reign to touch and explore you however he likes and he ends up coming in his pants 🩶

cw : corruption, coming in pants, subby!art (18+)

he’s incredibly sheltered, grew up that way, so when you’re spreading your bare legs for him for the first time he’s just knelt down between them and staring with his mouth hung open. he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. he doesn’t even really have a good idea where the clit is—only knows that it’s supposed to feel good when it’s rubbed and played with.

“just touch me and see what happens,” you shrug, a hand going down to teasingly caress his flushed cheek, “you’ll figure it out.”

art swallows like he’s trying to force down an embarrassing sound, and then he’s scooting forward. his right hand comes up and he hesitates before running his fingertips lightly over your folds. your hips twitch slightly in response, and this spurs him on. his bright blues glued to the sticky wetness glossing your cunt. it looks like a flower spread open, dew glistening on all of the petals.

“you’re all wet.”

he says it so matter-of-factly that it makes you laugh. everything he does just reeks of sickeningly sweet innocence.

you nod and lean back, “yeah, you’re making me this way…”

and god, he doesn’t even try to stifle the moan that’s pushed from his chest. he just leans in closer and slides his index finger up through your folds until he reaches a gummy bud at the very top.

as soon as he touches you there, you let out a low groan and buck up into the feeling.

Oh..

Oh.

now he really gets it.

he feels like he just unlocked the most elusive secret in the universe. he looks up to your face and then right back down to your twitching bundle of nerves, biting down on his lip nervously as he begins to rub circles into it the way he’s seen it done in porn (he’s only watched one video his whole life thus far.. he felt guilty for a month straight afterwards.)

“ohh, fuck yeah,” you breathe out raggedly, “just like that.. you’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”

and he’s so caught up in your words, your sounds, your pussy, that he doesn’t even realize he’s about to orgasm. right then and there. right in front of you. he doesn’t have the time to process the fact that he’s hard, let alone the fact that he’s close, before he’s jerking forward with a sharp gasp and choking on a whimper that follows suit.

“aaangh- oh—..!”

he’s rushing to grab your legs for some sense of groundedness; squirting a heavy load into his boxer briefs, pulse after pulse of the warmth flooding his clothes. you just chuckle lowly and stroke his hair as he rides it out.

“s… s-sorry, i’m sorry… did you come too?” he asks, as cute as ever. like a puppy.

you look over his lidded gaze, his parted lips, his heaving chest. and you smile.

“no.”

[b-lairington]

william afton corrupting and ruining you for other men🥺

he never wants you to leave, so he'll fuck you in ways no other human will be able to. he'll dumb you down, fuck you stupid, and leave you alone. he'll go nights pumping and stuffing you full of his cum, being so sweet, before he disappears for days at a time.

he's training you to come back crying and begging for more 🖤

[cheshitora]

bunny "i want a church girl that goes to church" iglesias but he likes to bounce on his cock as you read from the bible. he likes church girls because he wants to see how far he can corrupt you

[cynicalrosebud]

Kinktober Day 18

Warnings: Sexual Themes, Begging, Wax Play, Corruption Kink

Prompt: Wax/Temp Play + Corruption Kink

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Nikolai

The rest of Kinktober

The air in the dimly lit room was thick with anticipation as Nikolai prepared the wax, a flickering candle casting dancing shadows across the walls. He had a glint of mischief in his eyes, one that sent a shiver down your spine. You watched him intently, heart racing with excitement and a hint of nervousness.

“Are you ready for this, baby?” Nikolai asked, his voice low and sultry. You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the heat of the candle wax pooling at the tip. The anticipation was electrifying, and you could already feel your body responding to his presence.

“Good. Just relax and trust me,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

You were bound to a sturdy chair, the ropes securely holding your wrists as you gazed at Nikolai, his demeanor a perfect blend of dominance and care. He leaned closer, pouring a thin stream of warm wax onto your skin, the sensation startling yet pleasurable.

The wax dripped down your arm, and you gasped at the sudden heat. It was a delightful sting that quickly melted into warmth, making your skin tingle. “Feel good, baby?” he teased, watching intently as your body reacted to the sensation.

“Y-yes, Sir,” you stammered, breathless as he continued his exploration, drizzling more wax onto your other arm, tracing patterns that ignited your skin.

He moved closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re doing so well. But I want to see how far I can push you,” he murmured, pouring a little more wax, this time on your thigh.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, the heat intensifying as the wax made contact. The sharp sting was quickly followed by a pleasurable warmth, and you could feel your heart racing. Nikolai’s gaze was locked onto you, a predatory glint in his eyes that made your stomach flutter.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, his fingers brushing lightly over the wax-coated skin, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through your body. “But there’s more.”

You watched in a mix of fascination and apprehension as Nikolai picked up a different candle, one with a more vibrant hue. “This one’s a bit more… intense,” he warned, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Are you sure?” you asked, the thrill of the unknown coursing through you.

“Absolutely,” he replied, confidence lacing his words. “Just remember, it’s all about trust.”

With that, he dripped the colored wax onto your skin, and you gasped at the rush of heat that spread across your thigh. The sensation was different, more vivid, igniting every nerve ending as you squirmed in the chair.

“Keep still,” he commanded, his fingers pressing down on your thigh to hold you in place, the weight of his touch grounding you. “Let me corrupt you just a little more.”

As he continued to drizzle the wax, you could feel the layers building, each drop a reminder of the intensity of your connection. The warmth enveloped you, and with each passing moment, you surrendered deeper to the sensation.

“Such a beautiful mess,” Nikolai murmured, his fingers tracing the melted wax, spreading it across your skin. “I love watching you lose yourself like this.”

“Please, Nikolai,” you begged, feeling a desperate need building within you. “I want more.”

“More? You’re already being corrupted,” he teased, leaning closer, his breath hot against your ear. “But if you really want it…”

He leaned back, pouring a small puddle of wax directly onto your stomach, the heat almost overwhelming as it spread across your skin. You gasped, your body arching instinctively, a mix of pleasure and pain flooding your senses.

Nikolai chuckled darkly, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath his control. “That’s it, baby. Let it take you.”

As the wax cooled, he took his time, teasing your skin with his fingers, tracing the hardened trails left behind. Each touch ignited fresh waves of heat, leaving you breathless and begging for release.

“Let go, my dear,” he instructed, his voice dripping with authority. “Surrender to the pleasure and the pain. Let it corrupt you completely.”

With each passing moment, the tension built, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss. Nikolai’s hands worked their magic, and you could no longer distinguish between pleasure and pain, losing yourself in the sensations that consumed you.

“Good girl,” he praised, watching intently as you unraveled beneath him, completely at his mercy.

[fyodior]

honestly a bit of a confession but for a long time i didn’t actually ever climax because i thought i was gonna piss myself and i can’t help but think dazai would be very disappointed if he was corrupting you and like teaching you how to like jerk off and you not pissing on him no you just came for the first time you didn’t piss on him 😔

LOLLL ok first of all thats very valid of you..... it really does feel like you're gonna pee and if no one ever told you thats normal to feel its scary!!! but that makes WONDERFUL material for perv dazai.... when he finds out you've never touched yourself and he gets the honors of teaching you how... only to also find out how scared you are of pissing yourself.... oh its a match made in fucking heaven for him he's like are u kidding??? i get to make them cum for the first time AND make them piss themselves????? and if you don't actually piss that first time very much trust that he will eventually make you pee. dazai is not leaving until you pee. on him

[wrathofrats]

(Note it’s 3am I’m jumbled) As per your tags he’s so pretty and so perfect dressed as a cute maid and Zephyr would probably be wild about that alone coupled with being so possessive. And I think it may be ✨neat✨ if Ifrit played along and acted really shy, no there’s not a filthy thought in his mind about the whole ordeal. He’s just their good girl, oh so helpful and good at her job but she just sits on their lap and Zephyr gets really wild about it and gets a corruption kink over it.

RAH I see the vision

I’m glad we are considering fucked up zephyr because no one ever lets them be really fucked up and weird???

But I think ifrit does it just to tease them. Acts like he has no clue what he’s doing, he’s just trying to clean!! God, and if he calls himself their good girl? Zephyrs going to explode.

Beckons him over to stand so proudly in front of them, just a little shy, keeps trying to pull down his skirt and god Zeph can see his fucking bulge even going he’s soft.

“God- do you know how sinful you look in this thing?” Zephyr rubs their hands over his hips, subtly lifting his skirt just to try and get a peek at those pretty panties while ifrit just pulls the flimsy fabric down again

“Just want to clean for you, trying to be a good girl”

And zephyr easily pulls him into their lap, while ifrit gasps and braces himself on their shoulders

“Wanna be good for me? Wanna flip up that skirt and show me how pretty you are?”

And ifrit protests because, he’s not supposed to do that! He’s trying to work! Would be unprofessional of him to act like such a slut. And ifrit is blushing so hard, trying to pull the fabric in a way that makes him look semi decent while zephyr eyes him like a piece of meat.

“Good girls do what their owners say don’t they? And you’re my good girl aren’t you?”

While zeph continues to try and take the stupid little dress off of him, only makes it worse how fucking shy ifrit acts about the whole thing, makes Zeph feel fucking filthy, like a pervert for trying to cop a feel of his sweet little maid. Especially when ifrit starts to get hard and whiny, like he might actually enjoy being treated like this when he’s really not supposed to ):

[sugurouge]

── be good, then. uzuki kei x f!reader

. ˳༚༅༚ explicit content, DARK CONTENT, smut, mdni: emotional manipulation, dubcon, power imbalance (superior & subordinate), oral sex, obejctification, degradation, corruption, toxic relationship, gagging / choking, condescending praise, finger sucking, spit

♱ word count: 2.5k

♱ synopsis: you kneel for him like it means something and he lets you because it doesn’t.

a/n: song rec: god's game by dove cameron | this is nothing but a treat for myself

The blood on his hands isn't fresh anymore, only smeared remnants, half-dried and fading into the lines of his palms. Kei sits on the edge of his chair like a monarch in the otherwise rather empty room. His fingers are laced together while those piercing blue eyes assess the person kneeling in front of him.

By now, your legs are aching from being folded for too long, your throat feels dry, and your mind is almost frantic with that tight, unbearable hunger for his approval.

A torture in itself for a person so terribly eager for his attention.

“Do you know why I let you come back?” he finally breaks the tense silence at last, with a voice low and unhurried to make matters worse.

You flinch at the sound and work your throat in an effort to find your voice. “I—I did what you said,” you murmur with those fearful eyes of yours downcast. “I followed your orders. I didn't hesitate.”

Kei hums in amusement while considering your words for a moment too long. “No. That's not why,” he says almost without any emotion on his tongue. “It's because you think if you obey enough, bleed enough, beg enough, I'll say you matter.”

Shame tightens your chest, almost painfully so, but not enough to stop you from nodding and confessing, “I want to please you,” in a whisper.

A beat passes between superior and subordinate before the tip of Kei's boot nudges your chin upward until you meet his gaze. Those cold, distant eyes look at you not as a person, but as a project.

A puzzle.

“I know,” he leans in, just enough that his breath ghosts across your lips to tease you. “That's what makes you useful.”

The words burn cruelly because, in the end, they are the truth. In Kei's world, your worth is measured by how deeply you can cut yourself away, peel back your own humanity, and offer it to him like penance. And you would do it over and over, just to receive his acceptance.

You didn't realise when the silence stopped feeling awkward. It was just part of being around him, even his silence feels heavy with expectation. And you want that. You want to be squished under his expectations, broken down until the only thing left is what Kei allows you to be.

Now, you were kneeling closer. No longer across the room like in the beginning, but right at his feet with your cheek pressed to his thigh, your breath warming the expensive fabric of his trousers. 

“I wonder if you even know what you’re doing to yourself,” Kei muses with a voice no louder than a whisper, the edge of amusement tracing along his usually even tone.

You should not be this close, but he put you there, and worse, you didn't resist. You bask in the contact, in his hand moving slowly through your hair like you are some prized pet, a fragile creature he can either feed or break on a leash disguised as affection.

"You're trembling," he notes casually, stroking behind your ear with fingers too soft for the chaos they cause anywhere else. “But you're still here. How pitiful.”

The words hit harder than any slap ever could. But that's the game you have chosen to start: You want him to say worse, you want his attention, even if it cuts. Especially if it cuts because then it means he is looking at you, paying attention to you, no matter how short-lived it might be.

“I just want to do it right. For you.”

He chuckles at that, breathy and quiet with no hint of warmth in it. “But why?” his thumb adores the line of your jaw. “Why try so hard to please someone like me? You've seen what I do to people.”

“I don't care,” you confess all too quickly, too earnestly like a dumb pet begging for a treat. “I just... I want you to want me here.”

At least you manage to surprise him at times.

A task most people fail at. The hand in your hair stills now that Kei leans down slightly; he's close enough that his breath seeps through your hair. “Want you here?” he echoes. “No. I allow you here. There's a difference.”

You try to hide your face, try to lean your forehead against his thigh to cover the shame on your features, but Kei tilts your chin up before you can look away. 

“I-I want to be good,” you confess with those sickly-sweet pleading eyes that look at him like he is some sort of god.

“You want too much,” Kei hums faintly. He always says things like that with such gentle cruelty, with that smooth tone of voice that makes you feel ashamed to be aroused by it. 

Your throat feels tight, constricting as if your body is begging you to stop making a fool of yourself. But you are weak against the storm in his eyes. “I just want you to want me,” you murmur. 

Pathetic. 

The silence hangs there for a moment, like a guillotine ready to drop, while you lose yourself in those detached blue eyes as Kei's stare pins you in place.

“I don't want anyone,” he says at last. “But I use what's useful.”

His words twist something inside you, somewhere deep and already half-rotten from wanting too much. From needing his approval, his voice, his hand in your hair. But then his hand slips to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing the delicate hinge of your jaw.

“Which is why you're lucky, aren't you?” He guides your head forward gently. With you, there is no need for force because, after all, you obey without question just to see the ghost of satisfaction flicker behind his dead eyes.

“I didn't even have to ask,” Kei continues, brushing your temple with the backs of his fingers. “You crawled here on your own, like the pathetic little thing you are.”

Yet still, he guides your head down, fingers firm but calm against your scalp. His eyes are half-lidded, his head tipped back slightly as a small sound of pleasure already forms in his throat at the thought of what you are about to do. 

“Undo my trousers.”

The command is a whisper, no louder than a sigh, but it makes your whole body tense in anticipation. He has never allowed you this close before, never saw more use in you than to keep you kneeling at his feet. 

You obey with trembling hands that move hastily to unbuckle his belt and undo the buttons of his trousers with more care than necessary. His arousal is evident, straining against the confines of dark fabric as you finally pull down his briefs to reveal the flushed tip of his cock slick with pre-cum.

He watches everything, from the way your lips part to the split-second you hesitate before leaning in.

"I haven't said you could have it.” The reprimand causes you to freeze as shame crawls across your skin from the maddening calm in Kei's voice. "But you want it anyway," he sighs, sighs as if this entire thing was nothing but a drag.

Two fingertips are enough to lift your chin and meet your humiliation in the reflection of his eyes. “Look at yourself being desperate for it. Go on then,” he says in that same soft tone.

His hand cups your cheek, a thumb tracing the corner of your lips as he slowly slides it inside. You suck without question or instruction while your eyes are glued to shades of blue as your tongue swirls around the digit.

“You like that?” The question makes Kei's voice sound almost affectionate now. “Letting me feel you like this, so soft and warm...”

He subs his thumb for his ring and middle finger, both now pressing down against your tongue until you choke, just slightly. Though Kei doesn't stop at that, instead, he leans in with a faint smile of satisfaction dancing across his lips once the wet sounds get worse.

“You want me to think you're good.” There is a pinch of venom hidden in his tone now, a fine line of madness wrapped up in filthy praise. “But this is what you are, isn't it? A mouth for me to use.”

He pulls his fingers out, saliva trailing after them, and lets the mess cling to your lips like proof.

“Then show me. Show me how good you can be.”

Your lips brush the warm skin of his abdomen before you lower your head further to leave ghostlike kisses of your pathetic adoration on his skin. Kei's hand never leaves your hair; it’s like a constant reassurance of control and ownership.

“You like this, don't you?” he murmurs as your lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue pressed beneath the vein along the underside. The salty taste of pre-cum torments your taste buds once you begin to suck slowly, unsure, perhaps overwhelmed. “Being used. Being good.”

His fingers flex in your hair, holding you there as your tongue works along the underside of his shaft. “And you know what I like, hm?” Kei adds before nudging your face back to adore the dribble of pre-cum that's already smeared across your lips. He watches you intently, no grin, no smirk, just analysing as if he is studying something broken and fascinating.

“I like watching people try.”

With that, he guides you forward once more. The tears pooling in your eyes are almost enough for Kei to find you cute, to consider giving you a moment of reprieve as your throat begins to tighten.

Instead, you gag because he guides you deeper, as if to punish you for the momentary crumble of his walls. Your nails clutch his thighs as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, and a wet, choked sound escapes you. 

Ah, but you don't pull away. No, no, you let him fill your mouth until you’re trembling, barely breathing, and still he keeps you there, with fingertips that graze your nape.

“Don't stop now,” Kei whispers, voice almost tender. “You've made it this far. What’s a little more suffering for me?”

You shudder around him, your tears now streaking your cheeks in messy black as you push forward again, choking softly when your jaw aches, when your nose presses to his pelvis. He holds you there, not forcing, just expecting because he knows you would do anything for him. 

And when he moans, quiet and airy, more whine than a masculine moan, you almost cry from the sound alone. 

“Just like that. Don't think. Don't breathe. Just take.”

You do, always so eager to follow any demand. But your jaw aches, your throat constricts again as spit obscenely drips down your chin. And Kei tries, tries to ignore the way you gag, tries to ignore the way your eyes roll back, but something in him almost feels … worry. 

A wave of fresh air fills your lungs as a soft slap to your cheek returns your attention to the man looming over you. “You're going to keep trying,” he remarks calmly while wiping a tear from your cheek. The other hand is curling into your hair again. “Because you're terrified I'll stop and leave you.”

His hips shift barely; it's a test and promise all in one, and the next time he pushes deeper, you let him in with a slack jaw, choking once more around the length of him.

Your eyes flutter shut as Kei guides your rhythm. Slow at first, too slow, until he sighs, his breath hitching just enough to betray his satisfaction. He doesn't groan, doesn't moan like other men would. He sighs like your mouth is relief.

Maybe that is why he let his guard down just a little. Maybe that is why his hand curls tighter in your hair as more of those satisfied sighs leave his lips—quiet, controlled, but unmistakably real.

Your eyes roll back when he whispers, “Such a pretty little ruin you are.”

Teary eyes blink up once his fingers tighten in your hair. You feel the tremble, the tension in his thighs, and curiously glance up to witness the way he tilts his head back for just a moment as his mouth parts. He guides your head up and down with low, pleased hums or a ragged exhale through his nose. 

He doesn't need to say a word—you understand just how close he is, how close you are to fulfilling your purpose. So, you hollow your cheeks, swallow him deeper, until he groans softly, beautifully, like he almost didn’t mean to.

You don't even realise how tightly your thighs are pressed together until warmth pools so filthily wet between them it is near unbearable, almost enough to grind down on Kei's shoe that mockingly nudges them apart. You choke once more, only for Kei to hold you in place, letting out the softest gasp—one that he cuts short with his teeth clenched, too proud to make noise unless it’s earned.

And then you feel his cock twitching on your tongue, hear the sharp intake of breath as Kei releases into your mouth. You try your best to manage the warmth coating your tongue and leaking down your throat. 

You shudder, almost choke, and cough. Almost—

“Don't spill it,” Kei’s sharp tone snaps you out of it as you realise the fatal mistake of squirming against his hold, but a firm hand on your neck keeps your head down. 

“Swallow, or you'll disappoint me.” The words nearly crush your pride, so you obey without making a fuss, even as it burns, even as you whimper, even as the bitter taste makes you shudder. 

And when he finally pulls you back, the string of saliva and cum between your lips and his softening cock snaps to stain your neck and chest. Your hands shake where they grip his thighs; you are clearly struggling to come down. 

But Kei holds little regard for comfort. His fingers come to your mouth again, just to tilt your chin up for him to admire the humiliating state you put yourself in.

“Open.”

He smiles when he sees the glossy pink of your tongue. “Look at you,” his voice remains soft as his thumb drags through the mess around your mouth like a painter placing his final stroke on a masterpiece. “You tried so hard to please me. And all you got was this.”

Your breath comes in shallow waves, your chest feels tight, and your mind seems to blank further. But his hand stays on your cheek like a mark, like proof that you belong to him now.

“You should be proud. You do make such a pretty mess when you are useful.” Then he leans back in his chair, adjusting his shirt as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just broken something inside you. 

You remain kneeling at his feet, not sure if you are meant to move or wait for the next command, with a gaze downcast that takes your chance at noting the flicker of something softer in Kei's gaze.

dividers by @/cafekitsune