#cw noncon somno

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ JUST AS HE LEFT YOU, OKKOTSU YŪTA

your (ex) boyfriend yūta decides to pay you a visit on his way home from a mission. although he forgot how pretty you look when you’re asleep.. and how hard it is to resist.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. ex boyfriend yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. noncon somnophilia -> you wake up. dubcon. pussy inspection. he breaks into your apartment. brief masturbation. aged up characters. wc, 6.1k.

note. repost repost repost :)

your apartment just happens to be on the way home from his mission, yeah that’s it. that’s his excuse, no, not an excuse— his reason, yuuta nods to himself as he stands outside your complex despite the way it’s just past 2am in the morning.

not that he needs a reason to be here anyway, he loves you and you’re his girlfriend, you swore yourself to him—��every part of you, so it’s his responsibility to check in on you despite the way he knows you’re asleep. he just has to make sure you’re okay, make sure you’re still his.

he misses you, that’s all the reason he needs.

yuuta’s katana feels heavier than usual as it rests slung over his shoulder, he wishes he could’ve atleast went home to get changed but his desperation for you outweighed anything else when he thought it over in his head. although he didn’t have too much difficulty keeping his clothes free from the insides of the cursed spirit he just finished exorcising, it’d been a while since he’d had any great level of difficulty given his special grade status.

but there’s an ache in his chest since the absence of you, despite the way that he’s not really been without you. he still seen you in everything, everywhere— since he’d memorised the parts of your day that you favoured. it was because of his love for you that he was able to catch glimpses of you doing your grocery shopping or in your favourite cafe. he remembers every part of your routine just so he can see you whenever he wants.

although it did hurt when yuuta had seen you at the movies with that other guy, it must’ve been uncomfortable for you to have a stranger following you around everywhere. he’d noticed him a few times before that, holding your hand or leaning in to kiss you. his girlfriend. you must’ve been so scared. but don’t worry— he made sure to take care of that problem before he managed to make it home that night. it was his duty to protect you afterall, to keep you from harm. to keep you with him.

it’s unnervingly silent, chilling how easy he’s able to make his way up to your apartment floor from the outside— albeit a little impressive as he rests on the ledge of your bedroom window. it’s a path he’s followed so many times before, it’s almost second nature now.

you’re home this time though, so he needs to make sure not to wake you.

another few seconds is all it takes for yuuta to make quick work of the window, to pull it up before expertly slipping through to rest on your vanity. he recognises the shape in the blankets as you by the way you’re resting on the mattress and he finds himself smiling despite the low lighting, you were always so cute he can’t help it.

he sheds himself of his katana first before he rests it gently to the side of your window, followed by his shoes as he politely positions them just short of his blade. another exhale and he feels more comfortable than ever when his feet meet the familiar cold press of your flooring.

yuuta’s footsteps had always been unnervingly quiet and you’d made a few comments before on how unnoticeable his presence was. he was never someone who liked to take up too much space or gather much attention, he’d much rather observe from afar. but that trait worked in his favour when it came to moments like this. he didn’t want to wake you up yet, he knows how much you need your sleep. that’s how good a boyfriend he is.

he takes his first careful step deeper into your bedroom but his eyes remain on you as you breathe softly underneath your blanket, there’s still a soft, gentle smile on his lips and it truly does just seem like a lover observing another. despite the deeper, more twisted sort of relationship that you both actually have.

but yuuta’s self control crumbles piece by piece when he finds himself at the edge of your bed, looking over your still sleeping features and he thinks you’re beautiful even in the dimly lit room as he swallows loudly. his throat feels dry as he takes in the way your lips are parted as your cheek smooshes against your pillow, eyelashes fluttering softly as your eyes rest closed and it’s almost by instinct, the way his fingers reach out to sweep gently along your cheekbones before he flinches back when the touch makes you rouse ever so slightly.

you’re breathing so softly and he swears it must be because you know he’s here, maybe his presence alone is making you sleep better and that fills him with a little sense of pride as he smiles down at you again.

“pretty,” yuuta lets himself admire you there for a few more minutes, to take you in and to make sure nothing bad will happen to you before he leaves. he almost does, but then your eyes squeeze closed and you kick at your comforter slightly before letting out a soft, dreamy whine and it’s not his fault that the pretty sound makes his cock throb in his slacks.

he sucks his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the whimper that it almost earns from him, he’d been so fixated on you that he’d ignored the need that was building in his gut as he stood over you. even when the moonlight is just a sliver outside, it still illuminates you so prettily and the more he looks at you now, the warmer he feels under his clothes, in his own skin and it makes him want to strip it off entirely.

“s-sorry, it hurts, baby.” yuuta whispers as he presses his palm into the bulge in his slacks and it makes him curl forward slightly as his eyes squeeze closed. your breathing has evened out again but you just look so pretty it makes him desperate for a release, you wouldn’t mind him doing this, right? you know how hard it was for him to resist you.

it’s quick the way hes able to unbutton his slacks, to shove them down to his ankles with such silent ease you wouldn’t think he was there at all. the only hint at any presence in your bedroom is the soft, trembled exhale your ex-boyfriend takes when he finally reaches into his underwear to wrap his fingers around the shaft of his cock.

he knows it’s not particularly normal, the way he’s acting but it’s driven by pure devotion, by pure love when his eyes are on you and he lets himself lean forward slightly to get closer.

yuuta swipes his thumb over the already beading pearls of pre-cum gathering at his tip as he stands over you, smearing them along the shaft of his cock to ease his first few, languid pumps of his fist that are so filthily close to your sleeping features. he wishes you were awake, mouth parted— tongue poking out to push your spit along the length of him, he’s sure if he leaned forward a little more he’d be able to press himself between your parted lips while you’re pliant but he won’t, not yet.

“mmfp—“ another strangled whimper is lost as he bites down hard on his lower lip and his unnervingly dark gaze cuts through you as you lie there, so blissfully unaware of your ex-boyfriend currently getting himself off as he stands over where you sleep after breaking into your apartment. his lips part and he follows the next slow stroke of his cock with his hips as he breathes out your name.

part of him wants you to wake up, to see what you do to him— how much he loves you, even still. yuuta’s dark eyes gloss over before they flutter closed, and his legs buck slightly with the pleasure that pours through him as his hips hump needily, cock glistening and disappearing into his fist.

the sight of you makes him burn as he twists his wrist, fingertips squeezing around the sensitive veins of his shaft and he’s so driven by desire, that he finds himself reaching towards you to flick gently at the top of your comforter— letting it pull down lower so he can see the way your tits rest in your pyjamas.

yuuta knows he needs to be careful but he can’t stop himself as his hips twitch, chasing the friction of his fist especially when he’s got you beneath him. he’d neverforget how pretty you are, but you’re real and infront of him now and still so responsive when he lets his free hand edge closer, to swipe along the clothed press of your nipples until they harder under the touch and it makes something pleasurable shoot up his spine as he pants quietly.

another roll of his thumb and your lips part to exhale, something high pitched and pretty he swears he almost cums there and then at the sound as your eyes flutter. the pace of his hand on his cock is faster now as his abdomen tightens, his fingers busying themself with your tits as his lidded gaze eats up your reactions. the way they pebble and poke through your shirt as they harder and he bets if he pressed his hand beneath your panties you’d be soaked— maybe he should check.

but then you shift slightly and yuuta’s hand jumps away from you as you roll over onto your back, kicking at your comforter again until it’s resting just over your knees and revealing even more of your body for him to toy with. it’s like you know it’s him, you must want him to keep going, he knew you missed him just as much as he misses you.

so because he loves you, he lets his approaching orgasm fade as he unravels his fingers from his cock— his dark gaze is fixated on the space between your legs now, the peek of your stomach that’s been revealed with the rise of your shirt due to your movements, and suddenly he knows exactly where he wants to be instead when he realises that you’re only draped in your shirt and a pair of lace panties.

you must’ve known he was coming, right? this is all for him. all of you.

yuuta’s cock is still hard as he kicks off his slacks entirely, letting it rest and throb as he rounds the bed until he’s standing at the bottom and staring up at you like an ominous, haunting presence as he looms in your dark bedroom. he’s still gentle when he finally presses his knee onto the mattress, feeling it dip under his weight and he still moves softly so he doesn’t wake you as he pulls down the remainder of the comforter, revealing you to him completely as he leans over to cage you beneath him.

he feels so much bigger than you at this angle, the sight of your body so soft and pliant underneath him forcing him to squeeze his eyes closed when his cock throbs between your bodies.

“you’re so warm,” yuuta sighs lowly, smiling before he’s dipping his body to bury his face into the crook of your neck. he inhales the all too familiar sweet smell, peppering a few wet, open mouthed kisses along the dip of your shoulder as he earns a soft sigh from your pouty lips, smoothing a slender, cold finger along your cheek affectionately. “i missed you,”

his next exhale is a little more shallow, but still low and careful enough not to wake you before he pulls himself back again, letting himself crawl down your body as he allows his fingers to trace and push the hem of your shirt up higher, and he feels himself grow warmer as he reveals more of your skin to him.

“s-sorry, i can't help it.” yuuta needs to check, especially after that guy he seen you with. you wouldn’t let anyone else touch you that wasn’t him, right? you promised it was all for him, all his—but he needs to be sure. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s everyone else, he needs to make sure you’re exactly as he left you.

which is what encourages his next, meticulous movements as he pushes himself low enough to be able to pull your thighs over his shoulders, exhaling with a mix of want and relief when his eyes are face to face with the intimate press of your panties against your pussy again. it’s been solong since he’s seen you this close, since he’s been able to taste you and it makes his cock throb from where it’s pressed and leaking into the comforter now.

yuuta’s slender hands make quick work of pulling your panties to the side gently but he almost whines as his lidded gaze locks on the first real look he’s had of your glistening folds in weeks.

but you look.. different, like something, someone’s been stuffed in your pretty pussy that’s not him and it almost makes him pull back to give you an empty, hurt look as his heart rate picks up.

but no, no you wouldn’t— you wouldn’t do that to him, maybe.. maybe you were just needy and he shouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly. not when yuuta’s seen the expanse of toys you keep hidden away in your bedside table, he’s even seen how you struggle to take them from the times he’s been watching you. even from afar, even from a rooftop over he can still remember how your face would twist as your walls spread so desperately around the silicone.

you’re still his, he knows it in his heart and it’s so perverted the way he swipes his fingers between your folds because he’s so pleased to find you already wet. see—his, he can’t help but feel something jump in his chest at the idea that you did miss him too.

an almost giddy smile graces yuuta’s lips before he returns his attention back to the rough pad of his finger, dragging it beneath the hood of your clit and rolling the sensitive bud, allowing a shaky exhale to fall from his lips when your thighs twitch in response.

“just n-need you,” he almost growls, his eyes lustful and locked on the place between your thighs when he presses down on your puffy clit harder, eagerly, as he spreads your soft thighs wider. he inches himself closer to your folds, knocking his nose softly against your clit and he inhales deep before his fingertips trail lower and he’s pushing one inside of you.

the familiar scent of your heat has yuuta lightheaded, hips twitching into your mattress as his cock throbs against the fabric beneath him, and his eyes almost roll back with how deeply he’s longed to have you like this again. you’ve been holding back on him for so long.

his eyes snap up to you quickly when a faint moan falls from your lips, ceasing his movements until sleep laces your features once more and he places a soft, open mouthed kiss against your clit to soothe you before finally sinking another finger into your warm cunt.

yuuta’s cold fingers scissor you open as he tests you, checking that you’re still as tight as you always were whenever he fucked you as your walls try so, so hard to squeeze down around him. you’re definitely just as greedy as he left you though, as he lets his tongue push out from between his lips to lick softly against you again, whining at the warm taste of you that he’s been craving since you starved him of it.

“you’re still so t-tight,” he whines, bathing your clit in soft kitten licks as his fingers brush against the spongy spot inside of you,

his chest feels tight with how much he wants you and the comforter beneath him feels damp as he presses his cock softly into the bed, rolling his hips in time with the pace of his fingers as he pumps them in and out of your wet heat.

yuuta’s flushed to his chest as he buries himself into your pussy, he can hear the way you’re breathing has turned to soft pants now, accompanied by the way you’re pussy is squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to pull him deeper. “missed this,” he mutters again, words muffled against your folds as his tongue swipes along your puffy clit again, “s-so much.”

every deep press of his fingers pushes more slick out of you and it’s so lewd the way he eagerly slurps it up, swallowing loudly before hes pulling out his fingers in favour of replacing them with his tongue instead so he can taste even more.

despite the way you remain still above him, yuuta can pick up on how much your body responds to him, like it was made to— so eager for the press of your ex-boyfriend tongue as he pushes past your folds. he curls it into your flexing walls as if you’re an oasis and he’s been deprived of water for weeks— similar to the way he’s been deprived of your love for this long. he’s only taking back what belongs to him.

“it’s so good,” he pants, muffled against your folds and he’s so unaware of the pace his hips have found as he humps himself into the mattress, dizzy on the pleasure and the feeling of finally having you in his arms again.

“can i feel all of you.. please?” yuuta’s begging despite the way he knows you can’t hear him, pleas buried into your pussy so softly they go unheard with how wet you are— squelching lewdly with every press of his tongue deep into your walls and it’s so hard for him to pull himself away. he’s buzzing, cock leaking so needily along his shaft and he’s sweating hard, still connected to your folds with a string of spit as he leans back to push himself to his knees.

it only takes a few seconds before he’s leaning over you again, one hand pressing into the pillows by your head while the other wraps around his shaft— positioning his cock between your folds. but he lets it glide through instead of sinking into you right away, letting himself hump against you as each withdrawal of his hips makes a loud, wet sound— coating his shaft in a mess of slick and his spit as he teases himself with the tight squeeze of your walls that’s so close.

yuuta curls over you as his eyes squeeze shut, but he’s so desperate to look at you as he ruts you into the mattress, to watch your eyes roll beneath your eyelids as your brows pull into a pretty, pleasured frown.

it’s like your body is begging for him when he peeks his lidded gaze open to look down at your tits again, nipples still hard underneath your pyjamas and he’s so overcome with want that he can’t help but duck his head to take your right nipple into his mouth. “i’ve w-waited for you,” his tongue circles around the fabric, muffling his words as he soaks it with his spit. he picks up the pace of his hips and he feels so dirty, like a badly behaved dog humping his owner despite the way his pace stutters with how good it feels, “until you were ready for me,”

yuuta grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin of your tits and he feels you shudder beneath him as he sends you a slow blink, checking to see if you’re awake yet with how much your body is rising to him now. you can’t be far from it, but he’s so close now he doesn’t think he can stop. he can’t bare the idea of you kicking him out again.

the feeling of your pussy against his cock is hot and aching, but it burns him in the best way because your skin against his is like fucking silk. he leaves your chest before he drools more kisses up to the crook of your neck, laving his tongue along your jawline and cheeks as he pushes more weight onto his arm— letting him rut into you harder as he feels you stir beneath him.

“p-please don’t wake up,” yuuta whimpers, he’s flushed to his chest and so fucked out— he can’t stand to keep it in anymore when you’re giving into him so easily. he doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to, but with the way he can feel you getting wetter beneath him with every thrust of his cock through your folds, he knows you wouldn’t want him to. you love him.

you stir beneath him again and he’s so unaware of the way he’s panting now, drooling and licking at the space beneath your ear as he marks you with his saliva, feeling your clit graze along the sensitive underside of his cock as he presses into your harder.

yuuta’s burning up, making a mess of the space between your thighs as his cock desperately drools precum along your skin and it’s so filthy the way he’s rubbing himself against you, making goosebumps burst along his skin as he offers you another drowsy, lustful look from his place over you.

your eyes are still closed and the tip of his cock catches on the hood of your clit, followed by a wet, tacky sound that makes him gasp but it makes a pretty moan pour from your lips as his body tenses up at the sound.

his hips stutter and yuuta cums with a tight lipped “i love you.” smeared along your cheeks as his cum lands messily across your skin, painting you in his seed as his body crumbles under the weight of his orgasm. it’s dizzying, making him sway as he tries to keep himself steady but he doesn’t realise the way your eyes start to flutter open beneath him, still dazed with sleep until your drowsy voice pierces through the room.

“huh?” you begin and your ex-boyfriend freezes in his place over you, it takes you a few moments to realise the situation you’re in. pinned to your bed at almost 3am after your ex has broken into your apartment and used your body to get himself off— soiling you in his cum. the realisation makes you tremble before you begin to struggle beneath him.

you try to push him off but he grabs your hand, so you opt to open your mouth to scream next, “yuuta! get out, what the fu—“ but yuuta is quick to cover up your words with his other palm as he shushes you, leaning his weight onto your body to stop you from kicking out beneath him as he presses you tight against the mattress. you wouldn’t want to wake the neighbours afterall, he doesn’t want you to end up embarrassed when they figure out it’s not an intruder.. it’s just a misunderstanding, he’s your boyfriend.

“baby, it’s me.. it’s me.” his words are so soft as he presses kisses along your cheeks, meaning to soothe you despite the way he can taste the salt of your tears along your cheeks now. he thinks you look relieved to see him, he could almost cry too— now that you’re back together. he can feel the way you’re sobbing against his palm.

“s-sorry, shhhh, i didn’t mean to scare you,” maybe he should’ve told you he was coming, yuuta thinks as he feels you try to push out from beneath him again, but he’s so strong above you. he keeps you pinned, with both his body and his gaze as you hold it with your own, his cold stare keeping you in place with the shiver it makes jolt down your spine.

“i’m here now,” another soothing hum and he feels the way your body relaxes beneath him, albeit more survival instinct than anything else as he eases himself away from you slightly— still sticky from his lingering pleasure as he gives you a soft smile.

your eyes are still wide as you look up at him, but yuuta loosens his grip over your mouth in favour of brushing his cold fingers softly against your cheek instead. he feels the way it makes you shudder beneath him, your body was probably so desperate for his touch by now, with how long it’s been since he’s had you like this. he’s sure you must think you’re still asleep, dreaming maybe—

“please, baby. just stay still.” he drawls as he noses against your cheek, tongue lolling out to lick messily at the corner of your lips— he feels you go to turn away from him, but he knows it must’ve been an accident when you still make it so easy for him to catch you. like a cute little game of making him work for it.

“yuuta,” you try again and it’s adorable the way your voice trembles before yuuta presses his lips against yours finally. you must be nervous with how long it’s been since you’ve been together— maybe you’re embarrassed at how wet you are already because your words are begging for him to finally make you cum now. it’s your turn.

“see, it’s okay,” the kiss is full of teeth but your mouth doesn’t part the way it normally does, “p-please,” is groaned against your lips as your ex-boyfriend forces his tongue between them, humming when you finally stop resisting him and melt into him like you’re supposed to.

he didn’t like when you teased him like this, he just wants to love you.

yuuta’s eyes close as his mouth moves slowly with yours, but his grip on your arm remains tight when his free hand moves to your hips and he keeps you pressed beneath him. you’re giving into his movements now, chasing the twist of his tongue as it pushes against yours and you whimper when he nibbles at your lower lip.

the kiss breaks wet and his hips rock into yours despite the over sensitivity that makes him sting, but you spread your thighs for him so eagerly it’s easy for him to ignore as he rubs his cock against your still glistening folds.

“does it feel good?” yuuta asks, sweetly despite the threatening hold his eyes have on yours. but you nod— eyes still glistening with unshed tears despite the dampness that still dries against your cheeks from the previous ones.

your pussy makes a wet tacky sound with the next withdrawal of his hips, and you both gasp when the head of his cock catches on the entrance to your cunt before he begins to finally sink carefully up inside you. he’s met with little resistance and it’s made easy by the wet press of his cum and your slick, like your own make-shift lube as his hand squeeze and pull your hips closer to his.

you’ve relaxed enough now for him to let your hand move freely, most likely dizzy from the way he’s gliding against your sweet spots in a way that makes your whole body twitch. your pussy squeezes around him and it’s so lovingthe way yuuta rocks himself into you, curling forward to nuzzle into the crook of your neck as he reaches to intertwine his hands with your own now. a stark opposite to the bruising grip he had on them a few seconds ago.

“mmm, i.. i missed this,” his words are soft despite the way he’s forcing your walls to spread open for him, moulding you to his shape— he wants to break you for anyone else. he feels something ache deep in his stomach, desire heavy to make love to you for aslong as he lives and each laboured breathe he takes holds another strangled i love you as your legs wrap around his hips to squeeze.

you only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out, but it still earns you a soft kiss against your cheek as his hands squeeze affectionately against yours.

yuuta’s content with just bathing you in soft pecks of his lips while his cock stays deep inside of you, still half clothed and his chest pressing against yours, but he knows you need more. he can tell by the way your thighs are twitching around him, your walls trembling around the weight of his cock like you’re eagerly begging him to move, to finally fuck you.

because you’ve been waiting for him, right? that’s why you’ve saved yourself for him to come back.

“say it and i’ll move, baby. please?” his voice is low but it’s unwavering, followed by another wet kiss against the corner of your lips as he gives you a look,

“yuuta,”

“i haven’t heard it in so long,” another kiss and he’s pretty sure he can feel the way your heart is beating against your ribs, he thinks it’s so cute that he can still make your heart race like this. even now, after so long. love is funny like that.

“i.. i love you, i missed you.” you eventually admit, bending to yuuta’s will like you’re a curse under his control, but he rewards you for your efforts when he finally pulls his hips back. he drags his cock out of you as his hands stay intertwined tight with yours, but your pussy bears down on him so eagerly, trying to lure back in every inch you lose before he’s beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.

“i know, baby.” he mutters against your cheek as he twists into you and your pussy squeezes around him in response, his words lighting a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better as his body rocks seamlessly with yours. “i love you so much,”

another adorable whimper leaves you when yuuta pulls back to lean over you slightly, holding your gaze as he lets go of one of your hands to cup your cheek instead. he offers you a few more kisses, smearing them across your jawline then your lips as his hips work to meet the encouraging pull of your cunt, sucking him in with every wet, clapping thrust.

the pace he’s set isn’t fast but it’s driven by his obsessionfor you, pouring it into the cracks he’s wormed his way into in your heart and body as your chest stays tight with his. he kisses your skin again, teeth nipping playfully before he’s lapping over the sensitive spots that make you twitch deeper into his hold.

“it’s been so, s-so long,” yuuta smiles softly, holding your gaze and the touch of his cold fingertips across your cheek has you nodding as he sweeps at the drying tears on your skin,

“heh, you look so p-pretty, mmf—“ he emphasises the compliment with a few sharp thrusts that make you tremble beneath him before his pace inevitably speeds up, but he keeps himself just as close as he’s always been as he holds you gently.

despite his previous orgasm, yuuta already feels so close again— it had been so long since he’d been buried in you like this, after you’d been holding out on him. but he wasn’t one to hold a grudge, not against you, because he’s back now and he won’t let you out of his sight again. although the grip he has on your intertwined hands is sure to snap if he holds it any tighter.

your eyes glimmer with lust as he sends you another blink and it makes him burn even warmer when you look at him like that, your tight pussy baring down around him and you both gasp before it breaks into something needier. he slows his pace slightly, deliberately pressing his pelvis tight to bump against your clit as you shudder beneath him and he smiles,

“can you keep looking at me, please?” it’s an innocent little proposal despite the less than innocent actions that have brought you both here, but you hold yuuta’s gaze as he speaks when it’s accompanied by the stutter of his hips. “i’m already s-so close.. i want you to see.” to see what you do to him, what your love does to him.

“o-okay.” and so he gives more to you. has given more to you than he has to anyone else, and you bask in it and give back all that you can, all that he can take as he presses his forehead against yours. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of you that’s now mixed with his and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach.

yuuta repositions his knees and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your insides as his between soft kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he makes his way across your features. a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble along with your lungs with the way it feels like he ignites something in you, even if it’s in his own little twisted way.

your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves. your nails dig into the back of his hand while the other scratches along his shoulder as you arch your back into his chest and he eats up your reactions like he would your entirety if you’d let him.

“i-im gonna.. ngghh—“ a few more long, drawn out moans of your name and yuuta can’t help the way he gives into you as he pulls back to look at you again— his gaze holding yours as he spills hot and thick inside of you with more slurred i love yous between trembled breathes. the mess between your thighs only grows with intensity as he fucks his load into you, eager to dig out your own orgasm as he pulls away to thumb at your clit.

you’re more than eager to give into him all the same after a few more stuttered thrusts and flicks of his wrist, the hot rush of bliss and warmth settling over your skin when you cum. your head drops back into your pillows and your eyes threaten to roll back before you feel a tight grip squeeze along your jawline to keep you in place.

“o-on me, baby. please, don’t look away.” yuuta’s words are rough despite how intense your orgasm is, almost making you see white if it wasn’t for the way his gaze swallows that light entirely. so you look at him as he fucks you through it, only stopping when his hand trembles with the aftermath of overstimulation as his body blankets you.

the moments after feel like they stretch on forever for you, but the man over you feels like he’s in heaven as his fingers trace messy little heart shapes into the back of your hand. but you’re just there, staring wide eyed up at your bedroom ceiling as the weight of what just happened settles into your bones.

“can we stay like this?” the low drawl cuts through the silence as your eyes remain on the space above you, but you can feel the way yuuta’s staring at you in the goosebumps that raise along your skin, he’s close enough for his dark hair to graze along your cheeks. like he’s examining you up close.

“okay,” your words scratch slightly in your throat but your response, albeit short, still earns you another peck to your lips before he’s pulling away to send you another smile. his hands are still cold when you feel him massage them along your hips, then up your waist, then back down again as he tries to soothe out the tension he can sense in you.

“i love you,” yuuta speaks again, like it’ll make everything better, like it’ll remind you that at the root of everything— he loves you, everything he does is driven by his devotion to see you happy. happy beside him, that is. isn’t that the place that’ll make you feel your most fulfilled? by his side. it would be better for everyone, if you just accepted it, maybe then people would stop getting hurt because of you.

he hears the way you swallow, clearing your throat but he still looks at you softly because he could recognise the way you look at him anywhere and it makes his cheeks burn to the tips of his ears.

“i love you too, yuuta.”

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[darby-rowe]

༊*·˚ princely.

coriolanus snow x dark!fem!reader

word count 1.5k cw dark themes, NONCON SOMNOPHILIA, dead dove do not eat, reader has a gross internal monologue, handjob, coriolanus is unaware of his assault, not proofread notes hey! i don't condone anything described in this fic irl! what the reader does here is gross and is literally assault. PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS BECAUSE SHIT GETS WEIRD! got it? good. then pls enjoy ♡ wanna give a quick thanks to my mutual @shellxrls for inspiring me to write more dark content, and for encouraging me to post this. if it wasn't for her, this fic would have never seen the light of day.

Your fingernails grip so hard into the blanket you fear you may rip the soft fleece from its stitches. Staring down at the beautiful boy sleeping next to you in your bed, looking so utterly soft and peaceful. You watch his chest rise up and down slowly with each breath he takes, studying how his muscles move beneath his skin. His soft blonde curls sprawl delicately across his face. You didn’t even know it was possible to look so princely while you slept, but Coriolanus Snow was living proof.

You had previously allowed Coriolanus to stay at your apartment for a few days while his place went under renovations, courtesy of his newfound inheritance of the Pinths’ fortune. He was your best friend after all, so who were you to deny him hospitality?

But on the first night of him sleeping in your bed, you find yourself questioning every aspect of your moral compass now that you had him beside you looking so vulnerable. Your fingers twitch. The temptation is nearly killing you. He’s most likely deep within some kind of dream, so…

Before your mind comprehends what you’re doing, your hand is on his smooth, toned chest, feeling him breathe underneath your touch. You want to pull your hand away, to stop before you start, but your hand feels as if it’s stuck to his smooth skin. What’s happening? Why aren’t you stopping yourself? Oh god, Coryo looks so hot when he sleeps. Is he dreaming? Is he dreaming about you? If he’s dreaming about you, then surely that means he’s into you, so he wouldn’t mind if you were to just—

Before you could realize what you’re doing, your hand is moving further down south Coriolanus’s torso, heeding every single physical and verbal cue that could indicate he’s waking up. You bite down hard on your lip — almost a bit too hard — as your hand approaches closer and closer to the waistband of his boxers. So crisply pristine, a pearly white color, almost too perfect. Did he not have a single pair of ruined underwear? Surely he must have a pair in the hamper with his cum stains painting the front. Maybe even multiple pairs. Yeah, multiple pairs of ruined underwear caused by Coriolanus’s physiology. The thought makes your pussy throb, and you look down as you thumb the waistband of his boxers.

But you decide to not venture towards the promised land just yet. Instead, you ghost your fingertips over the print of Coriolanus’s large cock. You have to swallow hard as your mouth waters, frantically flicking your eyes back and forth from his face to your hands. You think to yourself, is it too late to turn back? Could you still save yourself from the horrifying embarrassment of getting caught touching your friend in his sleep?

A small groan escapes his throat, and at the speed of light you retract your hand and wait for further instruction. Coriolanus does not open his eyes, but you still wait a few moments before putting your hand back.

Oh, Coryo. Oh sweet, princely, beautiful Coryo — if only he could see how pretty he looks right now resting his soft curls on your pillows, then maybe he’ll understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. Just can’t help myself, you think.

You really begin to think about the circumstances. You’re a hot girl. You’re insanely hot with a sharp tongue and even sharper brain. You have ambitions, goals, and fully thought out plans for the future. You’re perfect girlfriend and wife material. Would Coriolanus really be bothered by someone like you touching him in his sleep? In fact, he would probably be grateful.

Ugh, no! What? Stop thinking like that. You’re so full of yourself you’re choking on your own ego. You’re a violator. A venomous pervert. A venomous, conniving, irresistibly hot pervert.

You sigh to yourself. Your brain just keeps thinking in circles and in circles and in circles and in circles. You can’t be doing this. Just a little won’t hurt? This is as far as you’ll go. He won’t even mind at all because you notice the way he looks at you like you’re a lamb for the slaughter. This isn’t right. You can’t be doing this. Just a little won’t hurt?

The room temperature rises. A lining of sweat appears on your hairline as you continue to lightly ghost your fingers over the print of Coriolanus’s hardening cock. He’s starting to make noises more frequently. He must be dreaming now.

You dare to whisper, see if maybe your voice will bleed into his dreams. You’re dying to know how he’ll react. Ever so softly, his name escapes your lips like a delicate puff of smoke from inhaling a cigarette.

“Coryo,”

You wait.

You wait for a moan, a sigh, a physical response.

Nothing.

You say a silent prayer to yourself before leaning in closer, attempting to manipulate his dreams once more.

“Coryo, I’m here,”

You perk up as a tiny moan escapes Coriolanus’s mouth, and even more exciting, his cock twitches beneath your fingertips.

This was your sign to keep going.

Carefully, you retract your hand and drool a generous amount of saliva onto your fingers and in the palm of your hand before slipping your hand underneath the waistband of his boxers. And as your fingers made contact with his hardening cock, you shiver.

Your entire body flares up with goosebumps and your pussy throbs and aches almost instantly. You have to take a moment to yourself before you begin stroking him, to just hold his shaft within your perverted, filthy hand. Your heart is beating so fast that you’re afraid you might pass out before you can indulge in the fun.

Your hand trembles as you begin to stroke him, keeping a light yet generous grip as you pump his cock up and down. He’s beginning to moan more loud than before, and more frequently. You think to yourself about how you could cum right then and there just from feeling his dick and listening to him moan.

It’s dark in your bedroom, but your eyes adjusted a while ago, giving you a fair view of Coriolanus’s cock in your hand. You swipe your thumb across his slit, and for a moment you stop as a sharp gasp emits from the sleeping boy. But when he shows no sign of waking up, you continue.

“So big…” you whisper to yourself, voice barely audible. You feel his cock begin to leak with pre-cum and you slick up his shaft with his own bodily juices, making your hand pump his cock more smoothly as you pick up the pace.

You wonder to yourself if you could even get away with straddling his hips to sit down on his dick, slowly impaling yourself as your tight pussy envelops him in his sleep. How would he react? You can picture it now: you, stripped of your panties and nightgown, tits bouncing up and down as you ride his cock. Eventually, he’ll stir awake to the image of your hot body on top of him, moaning and whimpering sweetly. And he won’t fight back, oh no. Because you’ve seen the way he looks at you — you don’t think he knows how you study the way he licks his lips as he eyes you up and down. Your pussy is on his mind 24/7. He’s obsessed with you. You’re surprised he hasn’t tried to touch you in your sleep. You’d welcome the sentiment, though, as your eyes would slowly flutter open to the sight of Coriolanus pounding his cock into you. You wouldn’t tell him to stop.

Would he tell you to stop?

You’d like to think so. But you can’t afford to think of alternate versions of this night as your hand is now thoroughly pumping his cock in a proper handjob. Coriolanus mewls and twitches in his sleep, and your mind can’t begin to comprehend how hot he looks completely at your mercy.

“Pretty, so pretty,” you whisper. “Don’t even know I’m fisting your fucking cock, yeah? Wish this was my pussy? Wish I was fucking you in your sleep instead of giving you this lousy handjob?”

You don’t know what comes over you as you lean down to kiss his sleeping lips, and before you know it, he’s lazily grunting as he spills his cum all over your hand.

And you’re so turned on you feel more as if you have to pee more than anything. Your pussy pulsates as you feel his cock throb underneath your hand, and you have to practically force yourself to pull your hand away and lay back down.

Mere seconds after his orgasm, you feel and hear Coriolanus stir and wake up. He mumbles a curse word under his breath as he assesses his sticky situation.

You just lay there, with your hand still covered in his cum, as a deep, dark dread fills your chest. Someone pours liquid lead into your heart as reality settles back in for you.

What have I done?

darby-rowe, 2024. do not plagiarize my content, nor distribute my content onto any other website like AO3, etc. my writing is exclusive to tumblr only.

[suicideassistance]

Sweetheart, you are getting raped. Conscious or not. You're going to want these drugs.

[angelyuji]

yandere stanley and stanford pines somno thoughts :)

18+!!!

tw // somnophilia, noncon, dubcon, drugging, pls lmk if i missed any tags

sorry there’s a read more link, this one is a little intense so… mind the tws and tags pls🥰🥰

stan is not sneaky or quiet going into your room. he thinks he’s being quiet, but he’s not. after a couple times, he stops bothering. like it clicked for him that it doesn’t matter if you do wake up cuz either way you’re in his home and there’s no way out. no amount of screaming will save you either, like the shack is out in the woods.

the first time wasn’t on purpose, it was a heatwave and stan woke up around 2 am not being able to go back go sleep in the heat. sooo he goes to ur room to check on you, yk to see if you’ve fallen asleep yet or if ur awake like him. he’d go into your room and see the 4 different standing fans he bought for you turned on, and also see that you’re only sleeping in your underwear. the heat was killing you, so obviously you had to strip. immediately stan’s next to your bed, hand slowly messaging your naked chest. you moan a little in your sleep and stan takes that as a sign that you’re literally begging for him. like moaning??? in your sleep??? ok SLUT. same thing next evening, except stan goes farther. and like he’s been out of the game for so long yk so he’s just curious. and like it’s not his fault you were tempting him, he’s an old man. he takes a couple risks: kissing you, pushing a couple fingers into your mouth or hole to see how much of him you could take. by day 3, he’ll see that your body is being conditioned to respond to his touch and he’s actually gonna lose it.

your eyes flutter open, a moan falling from your lips, as you feel something press against your heat. “hey there, dollface.” stan grins at you and you jolt awake, trying to move away.

“stan, don’t! get-”

stan grabs your waist and pulls you back, cutting you off, “no point in trying to run, baby.” he flips you over, pushing your face into the pillow. he gets to his knees and pushes into you, stopping to feel the melting heat.

“s-stan p-please” you moan, muffled by the pillow.

“please what, sugar.” stan grins as you try to move your hips. he grabs a fistful of your hair, making you arch to look at him.

“please, please keep going”

ford is the sorta the opposite of stan like he couldve been doing this to you for months and you wouldve never known. like he definitely crushes up some sleeping pills into your food when you’re not looking. he knows what he’s doing is wrong and knows he should stop, but he can’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.

i feel like first time it happened, it was probably when you fell asleep in his lab. you had stayed with him to do some research and when you fell asleep, he decided to carry you to bed. the warmth of your body against his was enough to get him flustered, but when he laid you down, he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your mouth. and dude… he was immediately devastatingly horny like one kiss almost took him out. he definitely booked it out of your room out of embarrassment (even though you weren’t conscious to see) after this, he didn’t make eye contact with you or talk to you for a couple days. you end up confronting him about it and instead of telling you his feelings, he decided that he should just drug you to keep using you without having to vulnerable.

i feel like every time he does this, even if you’re not awake, he’s apologizing to you and making sure that you cum too. like he feels sooo bad for doing this to you, but like the guilts not gonna stop him. the only reason you ever realized is cuz he fucked up on the pills and you woke up to him pounding into you like a rabbit.

“f-ford, get off me.” you could feel every inch of him as he held you close. you try to push him off you, but instead he folds you in half, legs hooking his shoulders.

in this position, you could hardly think or breathe, he went deep and hard into you. as he gets quicker, he starts to mumble into your ear, “i can’t stop, i-i’m sorry, i’m s-so sorry.” he bites into your shoulder and you moan. “you just feel so good.”

for both ford and stan, once you wake up to them using you and you end up not telling anyone what happened, they’ll take that as a green light to keep doing this to you. and then it evolves from at night while you’re sleeping to the afternoon in a public mall bathroom.

(i kinda want to write about that now… but also… tutor!ford x reader… stan x babysitter!reader… im thinking thoughts…)

[diejager]

It got deleted again 😂

Thoughts on dark childhood best friend!Johnny! Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, thigh fucking, somnophilia, tell me if I missed any.

He’s always been a bit touchy since you were kids, holding your hand, hugging you, kissing your cheek or even pressing himself against you whenever he could. It had always been innocent as kids, some kind of puppy-love that you were willing to give back, looking for him whenever you were out, eyes cued to look for the familiar blues that you came to love so much. You were neighbours, living right across from him in a quaint house, unbothered by many siblings that his mother kept popping out.

Your mother was sweet, letting him come by whenever he wanted to escape the hectic mess of his house, and you were the sweetest thing he’d ever known. You were so willing to act as his distraction, pulling him away from the chaos and into your safe haven : your room. It quickly became his room as much as it was yours, he spent so many nights sleeping in your room, sharing your bed with him, his arms wrapped around your hip and face nuzzled in your hair.

Once puberty rolled in, his voice deepening and facial hair growing, he started packing more weight and strength, his ego swelling with all the dopey eyes he received from girls his age and older, but they never strayed from you. He only had eyes for you, his best friend. They roved over your aging body, your breast swelling and hips becoming a dangerous temptation to him. He knew you looked at him as nothing but your best friend, the guy you grew up playing with and sharing happy moments, but he couldn’t stop the growing tent in his briefs when he jumped in bed with you at night.

He didn’t feel guilty about getting hard at the sight of you in shorts and an oversized t-shirt, it was natural, a reaction towards the opposite sex being so clearly comfortable with him. He became much more intimate with the placements of his hands, they would slip under your shirt, over the softness of your stomach and under your growing boobs. Despite your protest and sleepy grumble, he’d steal a touch of your pebbled nipples, round and hard before dipping down your waist and placing them a bit too high on your thighs to be considered platonic.

You complained but rarely retaliated because he reasoned with you that a lot of best friends were this touchy, grinding your ass when you were sleeping on your stomach, groping your softness while he panted and groaned, his cock leaking a wet patch on his pants. This was normal, he had rights to you that none other had because Johnny was your childhood best friend.

“One more, Bonnie,” he gasped, gazing at your lips, open and glistening with drool while you slept, unaware that he was rutting against your thigh, “A need one more, please.”

[pure-smut]

obsessed.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, somnophilia, dub/non-con (reader is asleep), cunnilingus, fingering, toxic love, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of male masturbation

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.3k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

It had been one week since you fucked Ryomen Sukuna. One week of you going to class, meeting up with friends, reading in your favourite café. One week of total, blissful obliviousness to the effect you had on Sukuna.

Stalker is a loaded term, but probably an accurate one, Sukuna thinks to himself as he watches you walk home. He’s no stranger to one-night stands – in fact, he tends to thrive off them. But you’re different. Sukuna can’t stop thinking about that night. The noises you made, the way you felt, the euphoria of marking your insides with his cum.

Sukuna is obsessed.

Luckily for him, you live on the ground floor. And he’s just spent a week learning how to lockpick a window from YouTube.

He waits until the lights go off in your bedroom before sidling up to the window. He’s big and not always graceful, but he’s extra careful tonight. He waits outside the window until the moon hangs high in the sky, until he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep. And then he puts everything he learned to use and carefully breaks open the window.

It’s not his fault, not really. It’s not like you left him your phone number and he has no idea what your socials are – he guess you’re pretty private? And every time you caught each other’s eyes on campus, you only looked away. Worse, you looked uninterested.

Didn’t you feel what he felt that night? Didn’t you share in that ecstasy? He knows you did because he watched you cream on his cock.

So this little game you’re playing is irrelevant. Sukuna wants you now. He wants you always.

He stands in the dark of your room, watching you sleep in the dim, silver glow of moonlight. Truthfully, he didn’t think much of you when you first came up to him. A pretty face, no doubt, but nothing special. Nothing unlike all the other girls he’s fucked and never spoken to again. But something unlocked inside him that night. Now, looking at you, he feels a rush of affection. Sukuna bends down to brush a lock of hair from your face, desperate to kiss you again. You don’t even stir.

Sukuna smiles to himself. Even in your sleep, you trust him. It encourages him to slowly pull off your blanket, leaving you only in your panties. He stands back, taking a moment to admire you. The beautiful curves of your body, the gentle rise and fall of your naked chest, your hair splayed out across the pillow.

“My beautiful girl,” he murmurs to himself under his breath. Because that’s what you are – his.

Sukuna slowly crawls onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress. He makes sure to move carefully so as not to wake you. He know he can’t fuck you, not like this, not when you need to work his cock slowly inside you. But he’s okay with that – tonight, he wants to taste you.

That night, after you’d left, Sukuna had run his fingers along his cock, scooping up a mixture of his and your cum. He recognised his own taste but yours was new. Delicious. He’d spent the whole week thinking about it, fisting his cock to the thought of tasting you again.

Now’s his chance.

He gently lays himself between your legs, nudging between them. With the size of his body, it spreads your legs nicely for him, affording him a clear view of your panty-clad pussy. Sukuna casts a longing glance at your bare tits but tells himself to be patient – this won’t be the last time he gets to touch you.

Sukuna turns his gaze towards your pussy, taking a deep inhale. You’re not wet yet but he can still smell you, sweet and feminine. It makes him ravenous.

Carefully, keeping one eye on your face to check your reaction, he drags your panties to the side. You don’t stir.

My sweet angel is a heavy sleeper, he notes to himself happily. Perfect.

Faced with your naked pussy in front of him, so inviting, Sukuna leans forward and licks a tentative stripe along your lips. He glances up to check your reaction. Nothing.

Encouraged, Sukuna laps at you softly, slowly dipping his tongue between your folds to seek out more of your nectar. He wants so badly to wrap his large arms around your thighs and hold you flush to his mouth, to eat you the way he knows you deserve. But he has to be gentle right now.

Sukuna is not a man who begs. He won’t suffer the indignity of seeking you out publicly, making the first move. No, he wants you to come to him. He wants you to say please, please stuff your cock inside me again.

The thought makes his cock stir, throbbing against the confines of his sweatpants. Sukuna trails his tongue up to your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking softly. You whimper in your sleep and the sound is music to Sukuna’s ears. He starts to grind against the mattress, desperate for some friction.

With one hand, Sukuna cautiously dips a finger between your folds, now puffy and slick with arousal. He can feel your hole, the tight ring of resistance that he pushes past slowly, and he remembers how it felt wrapped around his cock. He pulls back and bites his bottom lip to stop from groaning. Fuck. He’s not going to last long like this.

Cum for me, pretty girl, he thinks, pressing his finger deeper and sucking on your clit again. Cum on my tongue.

As if you can hear his thoughts, your hips start to buck. Even in your sleep, you can’t get enough of him. You need more of him. Sukuna curls his finger, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and stroking it. You gasp and groan, still asleep but your body responding. Sukuna licks your arousal before circling up to meet your clit once more, swiping the flat of his tongue against it.

A dam inside you breaks. In some distant dream, your orgasm ripples through you, making you fist the bedsheets and curl your toes. Sukuna feels you clench around his finger and nearly cums himself. How this tight little hole swallowed his whole cock is a wonder.

Not to risk overstimulating you and waking you up, Sukuna withdraws his finger as your orgasm subsides. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sucks your arousal from his finger.

Fucking delicious.

He’s painfully hard now and wants desperately to coat you in his cum but he can’t give away that he was here. He needs to be patient. And if Sukuna wants something, he can be patient as a saint about it.

But he's not leaving empty-handed.

Quietly, he pulls your panties back into place, smoothing them over your now soaking mound. In the corner of your room, he spies the laundry basket - it doesn't take him long to find what he's looking for.

Sukuna restraints himself to only one pair of your used panties, plucking them from your other clothes. He brings it to his nose to inhale the scent of you, your taste still lingering on his tongue, and he has to stop himself from groaning. You have no idea how badly he wants to be inside you, to feel your heavenly pussy around his cock.

He had promised himself he was going to leave but how can he? You're lying there looking so fucking perfect, so ripe for the taking. Sukuna balls his hands into fists to stop from reaching out to you.

No, he has to go. If you discover he was here, you'll never come near him again. This is his little secret and he'll take it to the grave.

Later, he knows he'll spend the rest of the night with your panties pressed against his face and his fist around his cock, replaying the night you spent together in his mind. It'll be a cheap imitation but it'll have to do... for now.

He withdraws into the shadows of your bedroom, climbing back through your window and closing it silently behind him.

Until next time, he thinks.

Taglist: @tojis-ball-sack @moonjellyfishie @kalulakunundrum @benimarusimp33e

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

[yanmuffins]

SAFETY IN IGNORANCE.

Yandere! Prince! Gojo X fem! Isekai! Maid! Reader

SUMMARY: You’ve been transmigrated to the world of an otome game, taking the place of one of Prince Satoru's personal attendants, a measly side character with no name or relevance to the story.

As it turns out, life in the castle isn't so bad, and the certainty of food and shelter is welcome when finding a way home isn't ever guaranteed. Besides, your boss isn't as insufferable as you thought he would be. It could be worse. Isn't it nice, knowing you're safe?

WORD COUNT: 7.4k words (😮)

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONCON (no intercourse), somnophilia, mentions of past s/a, mild yandere behavior (if you squint?), mild derealization, AU setting.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: please be aware my writing is quite rusty!! this is the first piece of writing that i finish IN YEARS and it's a fucking jjk darkfic. sigh. writing smutty scenes is also so awkward lmao, forgive me if it sucks severely. at least i hope you enjoy this little fucked up fic in have cooked up. it's hot and ready to be consumed! (๑>؂•̀๑)

-> MINORS DNI !

“TALES OF SPELLBINDING LOVE is a visual novel that takes place in a fantastical setting, where you can find your happily ever after with the character of your choice.”

It's been years – in this world, at least – but you still remember every word skimmed with dry, irritated eyes, as you stared at a bright screen, surrounded by the darkness of your own bedroom. It was another restless night among many, spent watching YouTube videos and reading pirated manga in questionable website, sipping on valerian tea.

So, like any other night, your adblocker dutifully served its purpose, shielding your browser from annoying, abusive, virulent ads.

Except for one.

“Enter the enchanting world of TALES OF SPELLBINDING LOVE through SARA, a kind-hearted peasant, as she meets all sorts of swoon-worthy suitors!”

You should have closed the page, sketchy as it was, but it had piqued your interest. It was a Friday night. You were sleepless. It was past midnight, tossing and turning in bed had done little to welcome slumber. Your home was tidy and organized from insomniac hours from nights before. You were bored.

“Play with a cast of handsome men, make the right choices and uncover exciting secret routes...”

Nothing about the web design told you the game was anything but a harmless dating simulator for an adult audience. Maybe it was the pastel color-scheme, with soft pinks, yellows, blues, purples and greens, or the elegant cursive font and colorful flowers adorning the page. In fact, other than the initial synopsis, there wasn't much to look at. No content warnings, nothing about the capture targets or the heroine you were supposed to be playing as, not even the usual information on how many endings or CGs you could get.

At the bottom of the page, “ENTER.” and “LEAVE?” buttons waited for a decision.

Maybe... you could give it a try? Hopefully it would entertain you until your eyelids finally grew heavy, allowing you to drift off before sunshine seeped through your window signaling dawn had arrived.

You clicked “ENTER.”.

... And here you are now, mending Prince Satoru's shirt before another hunting trip.

It's been ten years since you've come to this world. Your own body replaced that of a nameless background character with no narrative purpose, allowing you to exist as yourself in this entirely alien reality. You're not sure how much time has passed in your original world, whether you've been dead for a decade or simply unconscious for a couple of minutes, and you haven't gotten any closer to finding out.

You sigh, weary, looking down at the flax linen shirt laid over your lap, needle in hand. Simple, at first glance, a bit worn, but a nice piece of garment not everyone could afford to have in their wardrobe. One of its puffed sleeves now torn at the shoulder lining, an unfortunate result of it being caught by a tree branch during horse-riding. Nothing you couldn’t fix, however, skilled as you’d become over the years.

Ten years in this world.

Ten years working as Prince Satoru’s personal maid.

You got rewarded for that.

The luxurious pearl necklace that became a part of your distinguished blue uniform, accompanied by a gold pendant encrusted with gemstones shaped like the Gojo’s family crest. It was an honor given to faithful, dutiful servants to the crown, closest to the royal family.

Satoru and you were both eighteen when you’d first presented yourself as his new personal maid. This body, undoubtedly yours, seemed to have aged down a few years, most likely to match the age of your predecessor. They had, apparently, been working hard to better their lot in life, aiming for an often-vacant position at the prince’s small circle of personal attendants. You inherited the skills they’d nurtured, bettering them along the years, allowing you to secure your spot as long as you have.

That, and Prince Satoru Gojo’s character trivia really came in handy an absurd number of times.

There were worse fates out there, especially for a transmigrated person like you. Sure, maybe life as a privileged noblewoman would have been ideal, even more useful in searching for a way home, but being a personal servant to Prince Satoru, as… Eccentric as he was, gave you advantages compared to other peasants, even other castle servants. Plenty of food, fine fabrics, individual accommodations, not having to exhaust yourself scrubbing floors all day or sweating by the heat of the kitchen fires – besides, the Gojo heir wasn’t quite as terrible a boss once you got used to him.

You remember finding his route in-game quite boring, full of cliché tropes and little to no conflict. He was also kind of an overbearing asshole the entire time, unlikability salvaged only by his elven good looks.

But nothing could have prepared you to the otherworldly beauty he posed standing right in front of you, in the flesh, for the first time, glacial orbs eyeing you up and down. You admitted to yourself – although begrudgingly, as he was your least favorite character among the ones you’d played – that Satoru Gojo was as handsome as they come and had every right to be smug about it.

Smiling to yourself, you put aside the needle and thread to hold up the shirt with one hand, gently tracing over the repaired sleeve with the other. You tug at it to test its resistance, nodding absentmindedly when its stays in place. It’s good as new, just in time for his hunting trip. You get up, taking a moment to adjust your skirts and straighten your white linen apron and coif, neatly folding the shirt and draping it over your arm. According to your pocket watch, his attendants should be waking him up at any minute now.

You grab the doorknob, wondering when you’d become so accustomed to this life.

And then you’re heading towards the prince’s chambers.

Gojo’s head snaps in your direction as soon as he hears the door creak open, a lazy smile gracing his features. You bow to him, respectfully averting your eyes as an attendant removes his undertunic to reveal his naked form.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

He doesn’t regard you immediately, arms raised as William, one of his attendants, quickly fetches the shirt from your arm and slips it over his head. It’s a morning ritual familiar to you by now, efficient movements shared between all three blue-clad servants in the room to make sure the prince will be properly dressed for his daily affairs.

Kai, your other colleague, hands you a black leather surcoat. It’s undoubtedly fit for royalty, handcrafted by the best tailor in the land; buttons of silver, western dragons embroidered on each side of its chest, facing each other, with gold thread some miller’s daughter had spun from straw – or so you’d heard. You feel his gaze upon you as you button up the overgarment, knowing exactly what he expects.

Gojo steps back when you’re done, doing a slow spin to show off his outfit.

“What flattery does this little doll have for me today?” He asks, “Do I look dashing?”

“Yes, my lord Prince, as always.” You respond, with a courtly nod of your head.

“What about my hair?”

“Soft like the finest silk in the land, fairer than the first snow of the season, Your Highness.”

“What about my lips?”

“Tender and pink like freshly bloomed petunias in springtime, Your Highness.”

“And my eyes? And my eyes?” Gojo goads you on, a boyish excitement to his voice, his face coming a bit too close for comfort as if pleading to look up at him.

Playfully, your eyes meet his, granting his unspoken wish, holding his gaze for nothing more than a few seconds, a simpering smile as you speak.

“So strikingly blue it would put a midday sky in a summer’s day to shame, Your Highness.”

He releases an exaggerated sigh before grabbing your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks – his touchiness hardly phased you anymore; harmless, albeit pestering –, head slightly cocked to the side and a pout on his lips.

“You tease.”

Kai, newer to the group, shoots an alarmed look towards William, who merely shrugs him off.

And just as quickly he releases you, storming out the door as you and your colleagues follow after him, hurrying along the hallway steps behind him like ducklings after their mother.

Gojo Satoru is exactly seven minutes late to meet his guests. Not his servant’s fault at all, of that, you are sure. You had checked your pocket watch while walking through the castle hallways, confirming he would be on time to meet his guests at the open area of the stables – that was, of course, before all the meaningless detours he took along the way. You’re not sure if he does it on purpose.

William had his weaponry arranged, waiting at the hands of a servant, while Kai had personally spoken to the Marshal to have his Highness’ horse ready, both having woken up earlier than usual to make the proper arrangements.

Naturally, they would follow him to the hunting trip, as part of his entourage, while you stayed behind and made sure all was perfect for their return.

Your arrangements included waking up as early as the kitchen staff, the sun barely peeking through the horizon, to revise the ingredients you’d requested in advance with the head cook, so a kitchen maid could go and fetch them from the forest or the market. You’d love to be able to traverse the markets or the woods freely, exploring, meeting new people, finding out new things about this world that could potentially lead to a way home — but alas, being a personal attendant to the prince meant tasks such as picking herbs at the woods or buying strawberries from a merchant were, per your colleague’s words, below you.

It's a nice day out. A faint breeze caresses your skin, cool enough to be refreshing, and the skies are clear and blue with not a cloud to be seen. The autumn sun shines gently upon the earth, sparing of its overbearing heat. Your presence isn’t exactly necessary, but Gojo has made a habit of you seeing him off and you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to be outside.

“Fashionably late as always, Satoru.” His grace, Geto Suguru, is the first one to speak up.

A swoon-worthy duke, with a storyline much too… disconcerting… for your taste. Though the number of times you’d spoken to Geto could be counted on your fingers, being in his presence still put you on edge. Not that he had ever done anything to you, but you’d accidentally met his eyes countless times, caught him staring at you with a gaze so invasive it made you feel like a criminal awaiting judgement.

“Late? Treason. A prince is always on time, Suguru.” Gojo replies with a nonchalant shrug, “You were the ones here early!”

Awaiting his arrival were a group of familiar young men. Most you had seen in-game through the extensive selection of capture targets, coming to meet them in-person over the years due to their ties with the prince. You had played some of their routes, but with the exception of Megumi – Gojo’s protégé – you hadn’t a reason to talk to them, merely exchanging a word or two or none at all when in their presence.

“Finally.”

Nanami Kento looks mildly inconvenienced as he speaks, tone flat, arms crossed over his broad chest and a visible scowl creasing his features. He was a retired knight, born a peasant, presently a Baron; a personal favorite of yours. You couldn’t help but steal a glance or two whenever he was around. You remember kicking your feet up in the air during his playthrough. Sometimes you still do.

Next to him stood Prince Yuji Itadori, too entertained by his own horse as he fed him a carrot. You have faint memories of playing his route, although you don’t remember finishing it. He was a sweetheart, from what you knew, periodically visiting from a neighboring kingdom to learn from Nanami and Satoru and cultivate friendly diplomatic relations. You’d cracked your head trying to recollect bits and pieces of his story, unsuccessfully. You had a pesky feeling it was relevant.

Fushiguro Megumi was last. Broody lost prince, currently hidden under Prince Satoru’s protection – you hadn’t played his route, but he was a constant side character in Gojo’s. He was still a child when you met him, shortly after Gojo brought him into the castle.

When Megumi notices you, there’s a smile; faint, barely noticeable, and he waves. You respond with a brief curtsy.

“Can we go?” Yuji protests, interrupting some petty squabble between Satoru and Suguru, “I hear there’s a huge wild boar running around causing ruckus around the village, I want to catch it!”

Mounted on his white steed, Gojo is a cliché as old as time; a trotting reminder of your being in a world that isn't your own. The anodyne sight of him looking down on you, pink lips softly curving upwards to gift you a kind smile as the sun shines from behind him is almost identical to one of the game’s CG’S. It shouldn’t – you’ve grown used to him, to living inside this game, material as your own world – but for a moment, and just a moment, the sight of a whimsical prince on a white horse wiggles an uncomfortable, yet familiar feeling of surrealness, unreality into your mind, making your stomach churn.

You ignore it. Mentally sweep it under the carpet of your subconscious. This is nothing new. You can spiral into an existential crisis over the absurd condition of your circumstances later, when you’re lying sleepless in bed staring at the ceiling.

You’ve run out valerian root, anyway.

“I am obliged to be away for an entire day!” He whines, words punctuated by dramatic sullenness to his body language.

You step closer to him, taking a respectful bow before offering him a pair of neatly-wrapped sunglasses, which he takes – a distinctive feature of his character.

“So, you must, Your Highness. Go, and may the mother of good luck be with you.”

Satoru extends an arm toward you, presenting his hand. You kiss it – your own lips touching soft, pristine skin; a needed reminded he was a person, made of flesh that could be touched and not pixels limited to a screen.

From your peripheral, Kai elbows William as discreetly as he can.

You return to the prince’s sleeping quarters immediately after their departure. Overseeing the chambermaids, you watch them change the bedding for a fresh set, correcting the pair on your favored arrangement of pillows, fussing as they dust around the priceless ornaments around the chamber, amiably warning them to be careful.

When they’re done, you move onwards to the kitchen.

There are people watching you as you march through the hallways. Spying little peepers full of envy or admiration, or both, and you know what they’re looking at – the telltale blue fabric of your dress, a color so inaccessible to many, and the necklace you bear from years of service. Despite your own wishes, it makes you an intimidating figure, as if you’re an extension of royalty. Being a personal attendant to the prince meant upholding that image, keeping yourself unapproachable, discouraged from socializing and making merry with anyone but servants considered to be on your level.

Still, you greet the kitchen staff with a smile, trying to be as cordial as you possibly can. You know all of them by name, from the head cook to the scullery maid, all exceptionally busy for tonight’s private feast. It’s not your job to review the selection of dishes to be served, but you do so anyway, even if superficially, reminding them to provide a non-alcoholic beverage for the prince. Attentively, you listen to the head cook as he showcases the ingredients for the pastries you requested, assuring of their quality.

It's a bit of a hollow feeling when you leave the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, knowing the rest of your day will be spent alone. Without Gojo, there’s nothing much to do. Without William and Kai, your social circle has been just about reduced to zero.

But you do know where you’ll be spending all of those long, unending hours.

Being a personal servant to Prince Satoru gave you advantages. Privileges, if you will.

When he asked you what you would like for your latest birthday, you made quite a bold request. It’s the newest addition to the key bunch hanging from your waist – full, unbridled access to the royal library. The thought of having an entire day to search through never-ending shelves, making notes and finding books that could possibly lead to finding a way home cheers you up a bit.

“Are you fornicating with the prince?”

You nearly choke on your drink when the question abruptly comes out of Kai’s mouth, unable to speak from the utter shock. William is at his side, chewing on a chicken leg, and can only stare wide-eyed at his colleague’s bluntness. It’s been a while since the hunting party returned, clear blue skies fading into shades of orange adorned by heavy, rumbling clouds. Outside, tree branches sway to the force of the wind, preparing to welcome a starless night of rain and cold. Gathered at the table on Prince Satoru’s solar room, the three of you were having dinner to replenish your energy before the feast while Gojo entertained his guests.

It was usually a casual moment to decompress. Not tonight, Kai had decided.

“What– No!” You retort, scandalized, “What could have given you that impression?!”

“What hasn’t given me that impression, you mean.”

“Kai–” William tries to interject, but you’re quicker to rejoinder.

“I am not… fornicating with anyone, especially not prince Satoru. There’s nothing like that between us. That’s… How he is. You’re just not used to him yet.”

“But–”

“I think we’re better off cutting this topic of conversation here.” William interrupts, slightest bit of panic in his voice, eager to deflect conflict, “I know you’re still adapting to your new position, Kai, and that’s why I’m sure (Y/N) will be kind enough to let this slide.”

William looks at you expectantly, almost pleading, and you scoff before crossing your arms over your chest. The mere notion seems ridiculous – you, doing the deed of darkness with one of the game’s capture targets, destined to fall in love with the heroine regardless of whether she decided to pursue him or not? It would be a disaster waiting to happen. You were nothing if not a professional, serving your boss to the best of your power, and all of Satoru’s affections stemmed from his own outlandish personality. That was all. Your dynamic could be less than orthodox, but it was platonic in its nature.

“Come now, we can’t afford not to get along. Kai, apologize to (Y/N). I have worked alongside her for ten long years, and if she says she’s not engaging in improper acts with the prince, then she’s not.”

Kai silently looks between the both of you, finally letting out a defeated sigh.

“It’s a reasonable question, seeing you two…” He insists, shifting uncomfortably on his seat, “But I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“It’s fine, I guess. No one has ever insinuated that before.”

“Not to your face, doll.” Kai shrugs, nonchalant.

You want to snap back at him, but in comes the realization that he’s not wrong. Perhaps it was living within your bubble, mostly limited to your coworkers and your boss, had made you clueless to people outside and what gossip ran about you. William and Benji, Kai’s predecessor, had accompanied you in serving Gojo for a decade; neither of them would ever dare question your relationship with the prince or the harmless liberties involved; they were accustomed to it. And, well, you were accustomed to the point you thought everyone else saw it as you did: normal. The sudden realization that not all would find Prince Satoru’s affections towards you something ordinary was a staggering concept in your mind – but it was so simple. So obvious.

Then again, it never occurred you to ask…

“Do you think it’s weird, William? Be honest.”

“I have no opinion of anything, ever.” William stated, crossing over his heart with his right hand, “But now that you mention it, Benji did confide in me, shortly before he was relieved from service. Said something about ‘inappropriate displays of affection towards a heedless maiden’, I believe?”

“Oh. Benji never said anything like that to me.”

“He wouldn’t. Between you and me, he had a soft spot for you, so I do believe that statement was a little biased.”

On your face, an expression of utter confusion. You never noticed any signs of Benji liking you romantically, but then again, you apparently don’t notice much around you. The chicken seems to have lost its taste when you bite into it, mind too preoccupied with the conversation you just had. Not that there’s any use reminiscing about Benji – the man having been released from service only a month prior, after prince Satoru arranged him a marriage to a marquis’ daughter.

Now that you think of it, he didn’t seem too pleased about the match. Or about leaving.

The stone-walled bathroom smelled of fresh flowers and citrus. Sliced oranges and grapefruits, calendulas, sunflowers, rose petals, mint leaves, forget-me-nots, floating in the steaming hot water that filled the circular, wooden bathtub. Night has long since arrived, and even with the shutters of the only window in the room closed you can still hear the heavy rain pouring against glass and the rattling of wood caused by unrelenting wind.

Despite that, the candles illuminating the room, as well as the small fire burning underneath a boiling pot of water, kept the room pleasantly warm.

On the other side of the door, William and Kai undress the prince. All had retired to their respective bedchambers by now, and it’s not long before the pair of attendants are dismissed for the night. Gojo is already disrobing by the time he enters the bathroom, excitedly blabbering about the hunting trip as he plops the velvet garment onto your waiting hands, stepping into the warm embrace of the thoughtfully drawn bath. Suddenly, the ceiling becomes particularly interesting.

He lets out a long, satisfied sigh.

“… Not that I’m complaining about tonight’s banquet, though. I’m just a bit disappointed, you know? All the fuss people were making over a silly boar, and it made a passable meal at best…”

You hang the robe. From a tray placed beside the fireplace you select a pink macaron, feeding it to him before you start to work a soapy sponge along his skin. It had been a deeply embarrassing experience at first, aiding him in his baths; with time, however, like many other things, it had faded into normalcy. Nothing but work, is what you tell yourself when you elevate one of his sinewy legs with your hand, sponge inching closer and closer to his groin. You steal a quick glance at him, half-listening to his words, seeing Gojo laid back, unashamed by your ministrations, playing with the petals of a soggy sunflower.

“Ah– Megumi! His aim is getting better. He’s gotten really good at shooting with a bow and arrow…”

You wash the soap off your hands when you’re finished with his body. You feed him a small tart, topped with vanilla cream, strawberries, and blueberries. Still, he prattles on, words muffled by his munching,

“… mmph… And Suguru is still being weird about that wife of his… Something-something ‘she’s different from before’ and refused to elaborate…”

He quiets down a bit once you retrieve a warm compress, placing it over his eyes, fingers moving to either side of his temples to massage them with gentle circular motions. He relishes a bit on the relief it brings after a day straining his eyes. As he relaxes further under your touch, you let your mind wander, recounting the frustratingly slow progress with your research.

Even with access to the great royal library, the sheer number of books on varying topics was discouraging enough to tempt an emotional breakdown. You scoured through shelves, gathering a collection of sorcerer biographies, spell books, history books, encyclopedias – anything that could hold the subtlest bit of information regarding transmigration. And still… Nothing. Your eyes still felt a bit dry, a lingering headache from reading within the ill-illuminated library. All you had at this point were your own theories – and that wasn’t saying much.

If only you could leave the castle for a bit. A frightening thought, of course, as you could count on a single hand the number of times you had seen the world beyond the castle walls, never straying too far from the place you now called home. All of those occasions you had been following Prince Satoru on some of his trips, mostly diplomatic, with no freedom to walk around and talk to people as you pleased.

Perhaps a vacation was all you needed. Your “parents” lived not too far, if you remembered correctly, on one of the neighboring villages subservient to the Gojo crown. A favored place for merchants to gather, fairly populated, maybe if you tried investigating–

“(Y/N)?? (Y/N)??” Gojo’s fingers are snapping in front of your face, his eyes still covered by the compress, “Are you listening to me?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Your Highness. I think my mind just wandered for a bit…” You apologize, hurriedly forgoing his temples in favor of washing his hair, “What was it?”

He remains oddly silent as you pick up a smaller bucket of ambient-temperature water, delicately wetting his hair. You weren’t giving mere empty flattery earlier in the day; running your hands through his hair truly felt like touching the finest of silk.

“You know…” He starts, “I notice your mind tends to wander a lot, especially these days...”

There’s an edge to his tone, one you rarely hear him use.

“Your eyes seem to wander an awful lot, too, lately.”

Another pause. There's no silence in the room, just an uncomfortable absence of words; You hear the fire crackling. You hear the water boiling and bubbling, thinking for a moment you should check the temperature of his bath to see if it needs to be warmed. You hear the muffled sound of rain against glass. You hear wooden shutters rattling. There's a strange shift about the air, and you're confused, unsure of what he could mean.

He answers your unspoken question before the words have a chance to leave your mouth.

“I saw you stealing those little glances at Nanami.”

You stand, bucket in hands, mouth agape – embarrassment. The heat of complete embarrassment that overtakes you feels like cold water poured down on your body. Your hands feel a little weak as you quickly try to regain your composure, looking away from Gojo despite knowing his eyes aren’t on you.

Fiddling with the hem of your apron, you try to find your words.

“When… When did you–” You stammer, “How…”

“Ah-ha! So, you plead guilty. That’s soooo shameless, flower.”

The familiar playfulness in his tone brings back a bit of confidence. Still, there’s something about it you can’t quite place; for a moment, you think there’s a bark to it, bitterness. Perhaps it’s something unpleasant about his day that he’s hung up about, increased by you not listening to him. He’s just teasing, you conclude, trying to vent whatever annoyance peeved him by picking on you.

You massage Prince Satoru’s scalp with shampoo – or the closest thing they had to it, in this world – hoping to placate his abrupt change in mood. Maybe you’ll hand-feed him another macaron.

“I was just… Looking.” You offer, cautiously, unsure if any explanation would make it better or worse for yourself, “There’s no harm in looking. Lord Nanami was admirable as a knight, and he’s handsome…”

Worse, if the crease between his eyebrows is anything to go by.

“… But not nearly as handsome as you, my prince.”

That seems to appease Gojo who, with a petty harrumph, relaxed into your touch again. Appealing to his ego always seemed to get you out of trouble. You’d never thought to be grateful for his petulant grouching, but it's music to your ears compared to the spitefulness from a few moments ago.

“I just find it vexing. Why would you ever bat those little eyelashes at Nanamin when you have the Morgan le Fay of men right in front of you to admire?”

“There’s no need for jealousy, Your Highness.”

You were just a humble fangirl admiring your bias, after all. You weren’t made of stone.

“At the stables. During the banquet. Would you like to have a portrait of Nanamin, so you can gawk at him when he’s not here, too?”

You rinse his scalp, running your hands through locks of his hair.

“I am so very sorry, my prince. Speaking of... Uh... Speaking of banquets! I hear there will be a ball."

It's a poor attempt to change the subject, and you can only give Satoru a sheepish, almost apologetic smile when he raises one side of the compress to acknowledge it as such, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

There will be a ball. In a month, to be exact. You know that not just from the growing agitation within the castle, or the coming and going of unfamiliar faces hired for temporary work, but because you had been counting the days for this very event ever since you realized this was the ball that kickstarts the main story, taking place towards the end of the prologue. It meant the heroine would finally show up.

You're not sure what it will mean for you.

“Sure, a ball...” He says, “My old folks said they would invite all the eligible maidens across the land because they want me to find a wife.”

“I'm sure you’re not too psyched about this...”

Prince Satoru vehemently nods in agreement.

“... But who knows? Give it a chance, you might just meet the love of your life there.”

“Pfft– Right, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“And why not?  

“Well, what if I already met the love of my life?”

Then that would be some pretty weird timing, Your Highness. Prince Satoru wasn’t supposed to meet the heroine until a few days before the ball takes place, in a beautiful clearing out in the countryside, where they’ll share a lovely meet-cute after he nearly tramples her with his horse.

“Alright…” You spouted, unsure, “Why not bring her to the ball, Your Highness?”

“She’ll be there.”

His rosy lips curve into a conspiratory smirk, mostly to himself, blissfully unaware of the can of worms he just opened inside your mind. Had he already met the heroine? But it was way too early! It couldn’t be– or could it? You’ll have to check the makeshift calendar on your notebook. The timeline you wrote down, as well. There has to be some sort of plot hole you’re missing, or maybe the events have been thrown out of place for some reason.

“But you’re right, maybe a ball won’t be so bad. They said any eligible maiden across the land, rich or poor, of high or low birth. It’s an opportunity!” He announced, the last word said with enough enthusiasm to make you jump.  

Once again, you don’t have the time to ask what he means– or to avert your gaze as he abruptly steps out of the bath, getting an eyeful of his bare ass against your will. You pat him dry with a towel as he helps himself to the tray of tarts and macarons. He extends both arms when he’s done so you can slip on the velvet, deep blue robe back on his body. Another towel is wrapped around his head.

The robe keeps him warm as he sits on a chair, waiting for you to come and finalize his night routine. You stay behind in the bathroom, emptying the bathtub, turning out the fire, disposing of the unused boiling water since Prince Satoru had decided to cut his bath short tonight.

When you close the door behind you, the smell of flowers and citrus is still in the air, stuck to his skin. You hum a tune as you brush his hair, its strands like gossamer, offering no resistance to the bristles.

“(Y/N).”

Gojo lifts up his head, not a hint of playfulness in his face or his tone.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

And yet his eyes are soft as they burn into yours, as if thinking, evaluating.

“Who, in this land, is the fairest of all?”

Every time he asks you this, you wonder if there was some dialogue you missed in the game. Nevertheless, the blatant reference makes you want to laugh; with him, though, the answer is always the same. There is no one to overshadow his beauty, objective, obfuscating, infuriatingly incontestable, and he knows that– you know that.

“You alone, my prince, are the fairest of all.”

If you were anyone else, you’d swoon at the smile he graces you with.

“By the way, I have something for you.”

There is a small box on the table he’s seated by, simple, with a golden latch, inconspicuous enough to only catch your attention when Gojo slides it closer, opening it to reveal an assortment of herbs tied together with a string.

“Since you ran out of valerian root…”

There wasn’t a single herb you could recognize, at least not with the dim candlelight. Despite this, you were pretty certain there was no valerian in that box.

“How did you know, Your Highness?”

“Those eyebags under your eyes, I know you haven’t been sleeping well.” He says, matter-of-factly, “Some old hag passed by the hunting lodge today, selling all sorts of things. Said this was a potent mixture of herbs for those with sleeping problems. It’s all safe, I’ve had the royal apothecary check it.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, retrieving the box and holding against your chest. You hope it knocks you right out. Heavens know you need it, after today.

“This is so generous, Your Highness… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No need.”

He latches the box closed.

“Just have a deep, dreamless sleep for me.”

It was the very witching time of night, and the castle lay silent. Darkness reigned in its corridors, desolate and cold, broken only by flashes of lighting tearing through stygian skies.

Take pity, take pity on one who is sick of love.

Fire dances at the top of a candle, threatening to vanish at any moment, as one living soul treads through slate flooring, airy footsteps growing closer to your chamber door.

Satoru feels guilt twisting inside his stomach, that nauseating feeling of contrition before consummation. It doesn’t stop him, it never did – he isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin, but at least he knows he isn’t fully without a conscience. And yet, what is the point of guilt, overridden by excitement, conquered by overwhelming love, as he turns the key to your bedchamber, to defile you once again?

Defile, Satoru thinks to himself, is such an ugly word.

Your door doesn’t creak when opened. A simple spell to ward off prying ears, lest he has to replace another servant; Satoru had come to learn how thin those walls could be, sensitized to the littlest of noises in the dead of night.

He locks the door behind him, placing the candlestick holder on your bedside table.

There’s not much to see in the darkness, except for your pliable, sleeping form. You don’t feel the weight of your mattress shifting, so deep in slumber, as Satoru sits by the edge of your bed with the familiarity of a husband; and he likes to pretend, too, that these late-night rendezvous have an amorous twist to them. Isn’t it romantic, to be visited by a paramour so secretive you’re neither awake nor aware to receive?

What is he, if not a dedicated, twitterpated, infatuated princely lover sneaking through the hallways of his own castle to meet his beautiful dove, his golden trinket, his falcon’s eye–

But he isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin.

Satoru knows there’s nothing appealing about exploiting your vulnerabilities. If you were to ever find out, if you were to open your little eyes at this very second to see him stripping of his undertunic, the lovely relationship you’d built would crumble in a matter of seconds. It would break his heart into a million pieces, to see the horrified look of realization upon your face. And he feels the burning of guilt at the back of his mind, easy to dismiss, as his hands roam your body, past your clocked stockings of cotton and up your white shift.

He would hate to hurt you.

Which is why you’ll never find out. Your relationship can bloom into something far more precious that way, and soon he won’t need these nightly visits to fulfill the base needs you ignite in him. He often dreams of your wedding night, with you awake, receptive to his embrace, and then he’ll finally cross the one line he hasn’t dared to trespass all these years.  

The shift is carefully slipped off your body. His cock is dribbling with pre-cum, twitching at the sight of your hardening nipples. He bedews one digit with his saliva as he lays by your side, spreading your legs just enough to slip one hand between to stroke your clit, peppering your breast and neck with kisses, nibbles, and nips.

Your body is more than accustomed to his touch by now – and for a moment, he wonders if you’ll be confused on your wedding night when, just like now, your folds grow wet with so little stimulation. Soon he hears the change in your breathing as it becomes heavier, increasingly ragged, little whines starting to come out of your lips.

Still, you don’t wake. 

Not even as he slides a finger inside your soaked entrance.

It’s tight, temptingly tight, torturingly tight, but Satoru has enough self-control not to push himself through your folds. Not tonight. He can wait, he will wait until, eventually, you’ll be awake and willing to take his cock. He takes comfort knowing that day is not too far.

Satoru sits between your legs to rub his cock as he fingers you, biting his lip as not to let a wanton groan out.

"Fuck..."

It's not very regal to swear. He's never done so in front of you.

His voice is already strained, not above a whisper, when he sits up, settling between your legs to rub his cock with one of your limp hands. There are two fingers inside you now, Satoru biting his lip as to repress a moan stuck in his throat. He hates having to keep quiet, but the walls are thin, and it would be a lot more trouble than it's worth to deal with nosy neighbors.

Satoru isn't alarmed when you stir, eyebrows knitted slightly as he kneaded your clit with his thumb. It's not a sign you're waking up.

His fingers are coated in viscid, clear juices, thrusting in and out of your pussy with practiced ease. He can barely keep them inside when you tighten up, little tremors running through your body as you cum with a strangled whimper.

Satoru forgoes your hand in favor of positioning himself on between your folds, using your wetness to rub his length along your pussy, prodding at your clit with each upward motion. He’s lying atop you now, muscled chest glued to yours, gently suckling on your neck and muffling his low, guttural groans on your skin. His hips move at a controlled pace, refraining himself from how rough he wants to be with you – he’s still hung up about Nanami, after all –, feeling his own orgasm approach.

Your bed doesn’t creak, either.

He thinks of finally being enveloped by your insides, how your velvety walls would choke his cock when he made you cum. How your lips would touch his and you’d kiss, really kiss, how your body would respond to his touch when awake. What faces would you make for him? Would you look away, embarrassed, throw your arms around him and hold him tightly to you? He was dying to see you, to fill your womb as he looked deep into your open eyes.

Satoru Gojo isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin.

He’s delusional to a fault. And as much as he feels bad for you, for his horrible acts of debauchery against your unresponsive body – and all other perversions along the way – there’s hardly any guilt when he grips his cock with a tight fist, tugging at his length as spurts of pearly-white cum land on your bare stomach. His chest heaves, breath labored, half-lidded blue eyes staring at his handiwork with a dopey smile on his face.

Lightning illuminates the room, followed by thunder rumbling so deeply across the earth he swears he feels the walls shake. Candlelight flickers.

He cleans you up, not a trace of arousal to be found when he’s done, shift slipped back onto your body. For a moment, he sits at the edge of your bed again, leaning back on his arms. How he would love to wake up with you between his arms – but alas, you’d be much alarmed to see him by your side when morning comes.

He dresses himself, not before placing a chaste kiss goodnight on your forehead.

A ball, he ponders, that ought to be fun.

And as he leaves, candlestick holder in hand, locking the door behind him, there’s no guilt badgering his mind – only dresses. A selection of skirts and frills fluttering about, an appointment with the best seamstress in the kingdom; Satoru wonders which design he’ll choose for you to wear at the ball, smiling smugly to himself as he skips down the hallway, back to his chambers.

You wake with a startle, groggy, disoriented.

Resting in its usual spot at your bedside table, your trusty pocket watch indicates you’ve woken up a little over fifteen minutes later than you’re supposed to – Not too bad of a delay, which eases your initial panic. You’ll have to hurry up a bit when getting ready, but at least you won’t be late for work.

The herbs have worked a little too well, you conclude – gifted you dreamless sleep, devoid of interruptions, knocking you out barely an hour after drinking the tea you brewed. Although you had yet to fully wake up, there was newfound motivation to get on with your day after a much-needed good night’s sleep.

You make a mental note to properly thank Prince Satoru again. It was unexpectedly considerate of him to notice.

A shiver runs down your body as fresh air enters through your bedchamber window, caressing your face with its gelid touch. You see movement downstairs, servants and knights who have begun their day earlier than you. Beyond castle walls you saw the city, merchants coming and going through dirt roads among trees painted in breathtaking yellows, oranges and reds, its fallen leaves scattered over green grass. In the distance, you see neighboring villages and castles so far they nearly fade into the horizon. The sun is out again, blue skies adorned by white, fluffy clouds.

The faint, comforting smell of freshly baked bread hits your nostrils.

You should get ready– you don’t want to be late, of course. But there is time for a quick look in the mirror, to check if your exhaustion-induced eyebags have been minimized, even if ever-so-slightly. It’s only then that you notice, attention diverted from the area around your eyes, three small, faint red spots on your neck and collarbone.

You touch them, briefly wondering where they could possibly have come from; but you don’t have the time to dwell on it for more than a few seconds, your neck will be covered regardless. One last look at the mysterious marks and you shrug, brushing them off. It’s nothing to worry about, anyway.

Must have been a bedbug.

[spideyhexx]

welcome <3 to my first kinktober!

Here you will find a masterlist of all the upcoming fics and the links will be added as they're posted!

Stay spooky🎃

cw: gunplay, piss, somno, abo, power play, bloodplay, cnc, dubcon, exhibitionism

October 1st

on trial - ModernLawStudent!Coriolanus Snow x Reader (cunnilingus)

October 2nd

bro code - Brother'sBestFriend!Rafe Cameron x Reader (cnc & thighfucking)

October 4th

hot wheels - Sam Woodbridge x Reader (quickie & car)

October 7th

scaredy cat - Billy Bonney x BountyHunter!Reader (gunplay)

October 9th

embracing the embrace of chaotic chaos - Eddie Munson x Reader (piss & somno)

October 11th

mrs. plinth - Husband!Sejanus Plinth x Wife!reader x Coriolanus Snow (cuckholding)

October 13th

come right on me - Sam Woodbridge x Reader (cumplay & edging)

October 15th

touching me, touching you - Academy!Sejanus Plinth x Reader (massage)

October 18th

hostility maintenance - Patrick Zweig x Reader (hate sex)

October 19th

prince in distress - Prince!Coriolanus Snow x Knight!Reader (body worship)

October 20th

closing argument - Jack Prescott x Intern!Reader (office & power play)

October 22nd

royal reckoning - Prince!Billy Bonney x Villager!Reader (lovemaking & angst)

October 24th

bloody, bliss, belt, and billy - Saccharine!Billy Bonney x Reader (bloodplay & fingering)

October 26th

conflict accumulating in clothed collisions - Academy!Coriolanus Snow x Academic Rival!Reader (dry humping)

October 27th

duty of desire - Peacekeeper!Snowjanus x Reader (dubcon/noncon & piss & **** ******)

October 29th

in the jailhouse now - Saccharine!Billy Bonney x Reader (exhibitionism)

October 30th

erotica - Coriolanus Snow (collections from Coryo's journal)

October 31st

the midnight prairie - Billy Bonney x Vampire!Reader (bloodplay & cnc)

[missbunnybunny]

『𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘.』

𝕿𝖜: somno, yandere, stalking, breaking and entering, fem-reader,non-con, manhandling, dubcon, overstim, Pervert!choso.«🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» I think that's all.

NOTE: I don't know what I wrote. Not edited. Let me know if I missed anything.

You're desperate for a roommate. Entering your first year of college, you decided to find an off-campus apartment.

Thus, the reason why you're so desperate, you can't pay the bills yourself!

A friend recommended posting an advertisement online. So you did just that, asking for a roommate close your age.

Choso answered your ad, and after some questions, you decided that he was perfect. He was majoring in forensic.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who convinced you to get cameras for the apartment. " It's to make sure nothing happens. I wouldn't twant you getting hurt." He assured you.

But he doesn't tell you that he set up a few small ones in your room. He didn't want a random man with you in there.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who has a collection of videos of you changing. His favorites are when you try and fail to muffle your moans when you pleasure yourself.

He strokes his length at the same pace your fingers pound your hole. Whimpering your name with a fucked out face.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Gets brave and enters your room when you're deep a sleep. Removing the covers and taking pictures of your figure.

Your sleeping choices are an oversized t-shit and shorts. The shirt scrunched up, making you look delicious.

Fuch his getting hard just thinking about it.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who for nights on end just takes pictures of your clothed figure. Until it's not enough, he lifts your shirt and moans softly when he sees your perked up nipples.

Taking pictures of his hands squeezing your soft mount, his cock in between them. An electric pleasures shot throughout his body, at the feeling.

He takes pictures of his mouth around your cute lil nipples.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who slides your shorts just enough to see your clothed flower. He runs his finger against your slit, feeling a sticky pool form.

Who can't take it and uncovers your cunt, taking up close pictures. Some spreading your folds, some with his tip kissing your entrance.

He takes videos of how he ate you out like you were a 5 star meal.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes a video of his length rubbing against your fold, your honey coating his member as his hips buckle.

"Y/n-Ah- s-so good." He mumbles in a trance. His self-control slipped with every movement.

He knows it's wrong. But you feel so good to stop.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes his length and slowly begins to slit you open, sleepy moan and whimpers left your lips. Choso records the action, a perfect view of where you both connect.

He slowly fucks you, until he feels your walls flutter and constrict around him. He had to bite his shirt to stop himself from waking you up.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who has you coming on his cock, he want to desperately cum inside you but he pulls out before he spills his seed on your stomach.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who cleans you and puts your clothes back. He exists your room, and he turned to his so he could masterbate to the video over again.

God, your face was so devine, drooling, and with your back arched. He wished he could fuck you silly, and have you past out around his length.

He secretly made your pleasured filled face his wallpaper.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who pretends he didn't fuck your sleeping body and carries on like normal. He continues to fuck you in your sleep, he feels a sense of pride when you complain about being soar the next morning.

You were doing homework in your room when your computer died. "Choso, can I use your computer?" You asked as you exited your room.

Choso called out in the affirmative from the living room. Entering choso's room, you quickly found his computer.

It was a large desktop with two screens. Signing into your Google docs, you continued your writing.

While typing your hand accidentally moved the mouse, opening a tab. Quickly going on to close it, not wanting to invade choso's privacy.

You froze, staring back at you was a video. One that had a setting that looked like your room, with shaking hand, you pressed play.

It was a view of someone entering your room before your sleeping figure came into view. You watched as choso began to touch your body.

The door to choso's room opened, and in walked the man himself.

Choso looked froze in his spot while you looked at him horrified. The video plays in the background.

Everything becomes a blur. Your body springs out of the chair. As choso moves closer to you, you make a room for the door.

But he catches you. His hand covers your mouth, and the other holds your waist, intrapping your arm.

Choso threw you both onto the bed, your body displayed on top of his. He kept you caged so you couldn’t run from him.

" shh, shh. It's okay, you know I wouldn't hurt you."He whispers seductively into your ear.

You try and struggle your way out of his grip, tears treating to fall. Your ass rubbed against his crotch and onto his growing bulge.

His hips thrust involuntary, in search of any pressure he could get. He whimpers in your ear, making you flush.

His hand that was wrapped around your waist slipped to your shorts. He tugged them down, gaining a startled yelp from you.

His fingers danced over your slit before plunging into your gummy walls. His pace was rough, making your back arch and muffle moans.

He can feel as your greedy hole clamps on his fingers. His palm rubs over your peal. It was over stimulating, and your eyes began to cross.

Your mind is going blank, stars behind your eyes. So much was happening at once, choso was finger fucking you while he humpped you like he was a dog in heat.

Trying to seek any pleasure he could from you.

He whispered, moaning your name, calling his good girl. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you twitched and convolced around his fingers.

Choso freed his hard on. Without warning, his tip began to kiss your entrance before he thrusted into you.

Your body twitched forwards, trying to escape the stimution, but choso's hand over your mouth was firm. Keeping you in place.

Your moans were like angelic calls to him, begging him to continue.

His shaft assaulted your G spot as he plunged roughly into your warmth. His hand snaked around your waist again, giving him a stable hold.

The new grip made it easier for him to abuse your womb. With every thrust, his length and girth made you stuffed.

His movements became uncoordinated as he reached his high. Your tummy tightened as the coil started to tighten.

Your mind was becoming mush, too cock drunk to think right. Choso rubbed your clit before giving it a pull.

The action broke you, pleasure electrocuted your brain, snapping your coil, and you came undone top of choso.

Choso removed his hand from your mouth, gripping your waist tightly as he pounded into you before stuttering and painting your warn walls white.

Unfiltered moans and whines left your over pleasuered body. Choso turned your face towards him and kissed you.

It was a hungry kiss, and he pumped more of his warm seed into you. Giving you a few more thrusts to make sure you didn't spill a single drop.

"Ah-G-good girl. So good f-for me." He says out of breath, almost slured before he pulled out.

His seed and your honey mixed into a puddle into the sheets. By now, you had passed out.

"Next time, let's do a sex tape." He chuckles at your sleeping face.

[garoujo]

NOW PLAYING: ✩ ˛˚ . 𝓓𝓐𝓓𝓓𝓨’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛 feat. GOJO SATORU!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ wc: 4.8k! your step dad knows that at the end of the day you’ll always be a daddy’s girl.. you just don’t realise it yourself!

warnings! f!reader, stepcest, noncon!somno (kissing & touching) -> eventual consent (it happens more than once, you wake up during one of them & it escalates to more), stepdad!gojo, age gap, you refer to him as ‘daddy’, this is my submission for @killsaki’s family ties collab, fank u so much starry for letting me join & write this! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! it’s been a while since i’ve written step daddy!gojo but pls head the warnings! ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა

it’s late, you think aimlessly as you find yourself blinking drowsily at the crappy slasher you’ve wound up watching on the couch in the living room. you’re tired, but you can’t sleep and the more you think about it the more restless you feel as you try to burrow yourself deeper into the plush blanket that’s wrapped around you, comfortable but you still feel cold as you wait—beg for sleep to take you.

another drowned out screen rattles you as it pours into the room and you find yourself pouting before deciding to flick through your phone instead. it’s like you’re caught in a haze as you swipe through your feed, offering the tv a quick glance every so often but you’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings to hear the careful steps behind you.

there’s another scream followed by another sigh from you before you jolt when long arms fall across your shoulders, followed by a smooth voice that steals your entire attention with how much it seems to soothe you.

“oh? you’re up late.” your stepdad gojo drawls as his looming figure drapes over the back of the couch behind you, his chin resting on the top of your head as his crystalline gaze squints at the tv screen before you nudge him off with a huff.

“what the hell, satoru!” you grumble as you turn around to shoot him a frown from over your shoulder, but that only seems to make him meet you with a smirk before he’s rounding the couch to see you clearer. “but yeah, i just cant sleep.”

“you scared?” he’s teasing you, you can tell by the way gojo’s smile twitches wider, sending you a narrowed sort of look beneath the snowy peaks of his hair as he tilts his head at you. but you hate how good he was at it, making you cross your arms as you try to focus back on the movie you were now suddenly so interested in again.

“you’re so annoying.” it’s a half-hearted rebuke, you’re far too tired to think up something witty and you know even if you did, he’d say something even more infuriating.

gojo was always like that with you, he seems to take pleasure in getting to you, prodding you for a reaction and it’s annoying how good he is at doing it. maybe that’s just how he was, the role of father to someone else’s child seemed to come a lot easier to him than it might to others, but you always put that down to the megumi he always spoke about, so that was never an issue. although you’ve never been able to shake the feeling that your stepdad likes teasing you a little more than he does everyone else.

“hm, you need protectin’? ‘ts my job remember.” his honeyed tone brings your tired gaze from your thoughts and back to him before he knocks his hand against your thigh, ushering you along the couch before his lanky body is falling into the spot right next to you.

“i can take care of myself.” you huff as you look away from him again and you hear gojo hum like he’s thinking it over before he breathes out a laugh, letting his palm push under the blankets to smooth across your thigh like some sort of faux attempt to soothe you. the touch lingers longer than you’d like but you swallow it down, he’s always been a little touchy.

“oh? but a sweet thing like you is always first to go.” you hate the way the compliment mixed with the back and forth motion of his hand on your skin feels like it burns you. it’s like something ignites in your skin despite how cold you felt a moment ago and it’s sinful the way your instincts seem to push you closer to him as you seek out more.

your stepdad gojo always ran warm so you’ll blame it on that rather than the heat that’s buzzing along your shoulders and thighs with every swipe of his hand, his fingers squeezing comfortingly at the skin as you make yourself comfortable in his side. despite the teasing, you were always close so the proximity isn’t something that was completely new, although this feeling is.

“nah, it’s always the annoying, handsome ones.” you’re blissfully unaware of your adorable little reply until you hear the snowy haired man next to you chuckle before he’s pulling your legs over his, sending you a look that makes you cast him a sidewards glance before you’re avoiding it all together.

“is that right?” gojo goads, deliberately as he pinches at your thigh a little too hard but just enough to have you kicking your legs before he’s wrapping one of his long arms around your shoulder again, this time to curl you closer into him as his lips rest against your temple. he can feel you grumbling, probably a little embarrassed you just called your stepdad handsome but he’s sure the things going on in his mind right now are a whole lot worse.

“shutup, you’re missing the movie.” but you’re just too adorable for him to ignore.

but your stepdad thinks you’re so pretty when an hour or two later you’re finally asleep — your cheek pressed against his shoulder when his ministrations on your skin mixed with his comforting body heat has finally lulled you.

gojo finds himself wanting to rest there a little longer as he stretches out his neck meanwhile probably the fourth sequel to that shitty movie plays. but he lets his muscles pop before he’s pulling you closer and sighing when he finds his eyes dropping to the press of your chest against his own, broader one. it’s sinful, he knows he shouldn’t deliberately put himself this close to you, not when he’s well aware of your little crush on him — one that he welcomes, maybe due to his own growing affection that stemmed way past that of a father figure at this point.

although despite his own selfish desires to keep you pressed against him all night, he knows you’ll complain tomorrow about the uncomfortable sleeping position and as much as he’d like to use the opportunity to insist that he’s the comfiest, he knows he should let you sleep.

“gotta get you to bed, angel. yeah?” so gojo tries to push himself up from the couch as he whispers to you, carefully as to not rouse you from your sleep but it proves unsuccessful when your brows fall into a frown. your arm round his waist to squeeze yourself closer as your pretty, sleepy feathers tilt perfectly up at him and it’s almost like you’re teasing him as he falls back against the cushions behind him, your lips parted and pouty — like you’re begging for him.

your mom did always complain about how much he spoils you.

he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t uncommon for dads to kiss their daughters goodnight and who is he to skip out on the necessities of his role. so gojo let’s his gaze drop to your lips before his fingers are tracing along the shape of your jawline, holding you there before he’s leaning into kiss you once on the lips as a goodnight and then again because he wants to, because he can.

the kiss is short and sweet but you whimper as he pulls away, pushing yourself closer like you’re asking for more and it’s like his self control seems to snap, string by string at the sight of you so pliant against him. suddenly the man who was considered to be the strongest is nothing but weak at the sight of his own step daughter.

“gotta stop teasing me like this, sweet girl. g’nna make me do something you’ll hate me for.” but gojo leans in again anyway, deliberately this time as his lips end up back on yours for a kiss that’s just as warm although it seems harder. you’re pulled in close and despite the way something in his chest tells him to stop, he won’t—he can’t. he lets his mouth press you open, moving you so easily but still gentle enough not to wake you as he parts your lips, grunting when his tongue finally pushes up against yours and his hands fall to your body once more.

he lets his tongue graze along your own, tasting you deeply until there’s a twitch in his hips and a throb in his cock when his palm falls to your chest, taking a slow handful of your tits before he’s swiping his thumb across the shape of your nipple and growing hungrier when it pulls a whimper from you.

gojo knows he’s too far gone now, but you’re still asleep — his own little step daughter putting all of your trust in your step dad like he isn’t kissing your pliant body right now, squeezing and palming at your breasts in his palms before he’s throwing caution to the wind and trailing under the hem of your shirt instead. your skin feels like silk beneath his hands and the first, real press of your chest is heavenly as he licks into your mouth, wishing he could feel you kissing him back as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

he gives himself a few moments before he pulls away, before he gets carried away and lets his hand fall back to your hips. but it’s like instinct the way it explores the topography of your body — finding the heat of your intimate skin almost too quickly as his lips trail hungrily down your neck. 

gojo can feel the sweet press of your pussy through the little shorts you’d opted to wear, he can imagine how it would feel when his tongue would graze through your slick folds but he knows he’d still rather have the real thing, instead he’s left with an infinite void that only seems to make his cravings worse. he rolls your sensitive skin between his teeth before he rubs at your clothed clit with two fingers and the sound it pulls from you is oh so fucking sweet.

“oh, daddy knows what y’need.” you’re so fucking sensitive, he wants nothing more than to hear you cry for your daddy — breathing out sweet little uh-huhs and pleas as he pushes into you but he won’t wake you, not yet. so he’ll keep his movements gentle, light despite the way he can feel you growing warmer, stickier under the press of his thumb when his voice is pressed to your skin and your thighs twitch with every intoxicating flick of his wrist.

you’re close and he’s warm, breathing deep as gojo pushes himself deeper into you — igniting the spit soaked nerves along your skin as he suckles another mark into your neck but just as he goes to toy with the waistband of your shorts, he stops. he swallows deep, harshly as he catches his breath — like he’s just snapped out of a daze before he’s giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek and a look that lasts a little too long before he speaks.

“time for bed, sweet thing.”

but you’ll wake up alone, warm and sticky like you just woke up from a lewd dream with the pulse of a hickey on your throat — tucked up in your bedroom like you didn’t fall asleep on the couch as you mutter out a “daddy?” and you’ll stay unknowing. for now. until he says so.

you’ll have that pretty little dazed, confused look on your face when your soft footsteps make their way to the kitchen and gojo, your stepdad, will be there to meet you like he always is when your mom is on another business trip as he leans over the counter — his head propped up against his fist as he sends you a teasing expression.

“why’re you looking at me like that?”

“hey now, no good morning? you break my heart.” you smile a bit at his words, blame it on your body still waking up but he seems to like that as he pushes himself up from the counter, giving you a little relief from him bothering you as your stepdad opts to putting a cup for you right next to his own on the counter.

“mom will kill you for using so much sugar in your coffee, didn’t she tell you to stop that.”

your words make gojo’s usual smirk stretch along his features as he takes a few languid steps towards you, sending you a half-lidded look over the frames of his glasses before he’s chuckling. “come on now, don’t be like that. i think we’re allowed our own little secrets.” he quips back quickly, letting his palm pat along your shoulders and you think it’s strange the way your skin seems to twitch and tingle at the swift, seemingly innocent touch despite the way you feel it turn your stomach.

but despite the uneasy feeling that you’re not sure you like at all, aswell as the increasing damp spot in your panties most mornings and the uncomfortable heat that only seems to grow and burst in your stomach every time you see him. you still seek him out when you’re tired and he welcomes you with open arms as you curl into him on the couch, it’s only natural to take more when he’s so eager to give, right?

this was torture for your stepdad too after all, gojo wants nothing more than for you to blink up at him as he breaks you open — he wants to feel the stretch of your walls and taste of your slick pussy on his tongue but he’s held himself back. you should be grateful that he’s only settled for playing with you through your clothes when you sleep on his chest, quenching his thirst for you with a few messy, sloppy goodnight kisses.

but you’re feeling particularly restless tonight despite the way you normally slept so well against your stepdads chest — finding your sleep anything but deep as you slip in and out of consciousness uncharacteristically. it always seems to find you again quickly, normally due to the soothing graze of your snowy-haired pillows fingers along the length of your spine or the smooth hum of his voice.

though when you wake next, the last thing you want to do is sleep when you realise your thighs are spread and your step dads lips are on your neck, his hand pushed down the front of your shorts to rub sticky circles into your clit through your panties.

“daddy?” your voice is weak, wound up tight with the way gojo’s pressing the pads of his fingers into you and keeping you in place, but he freezes when he realises you’re awake — readying himself to pull away despite the way your body is begging him to stay. he grunts and his hand works to leave you but you reach for him and pull him back before you tangle your other hand in his hair. “daddy~”

your back feels sticky where it presses against his chest and despite how disgusting it should feel, you’ve never felt warmer as you spread your thighs wider and you lose every sense of right and wrong with his touch. you hook them over his own as his hips press tight against yours from behind, the angle letting you feel the heavy press of his cock against your lower back as he chuckles breathlessly into the crook of your neck.

“oh? well good mornin’ sweet thing. didn’t know you were so greedy f’ me.” gojo’s lips curl when you shudder into him and he takes your new found consciousness as an invitation for him to push through the final layer of your soaked panties, finally allowing himself to pet through your folds as he eases past the thin fabric.

“what—ah! what’re you doing?” it’s filthy, the break in your voice when he groans at the slick he collects under his touch — trailing it up the press of your pussy to circle your clit as you murmur out another sweet cry for your daddy. so sweet, that only makes him press down on the sensitive bud harder, keeping you tight against him as he rubs at you with two fingers and smears a gentle kiss behind your ear.

“don’t try and pretend you weren’t teasing me, ‘ts mean to lie to your daddy.” your body does little to defend you when every swipe of gojo’s fingers has your hips twisting under his touch. “hm, think i’m spoilin’ you too much, ‘s that it?” his movements slow with his words and he thinks it’s adorable the way you hiccup and beg for him to keep going, grinding into the press of his palm as you babble about how you like when he spoils you.

that’s what everyone says, your mom would always tell him to stop babying you but fuck if only she could see you now.

but he hums, with that same teasing demeanour he always has before his movements come to a halt and the look you send him over your shoulder makes his cock twitch as pretty tears gather at your lashes. gojo sucks his lower lip between his teeth, then he leans into give you another affectionate, soothing kiss on the cheek before his fingers are sinking into your pussy.

“mmm, do i treat you well, sweet thing? you’re such a daddy’s girl, ain’t ya?” you feel him smirk against your cheek as he curls his long fingers inside the squeeze of your walls, letting his palm rub against your slick pussy everytime he sinks them deeper into you until you’re shaking filthily in his lap. he quickly finds a pace that makes your toes curl from where they’re hanging over his thighs, your body rocking in time with him as you ride his fingers and you know he fucking loves that when he rewards you with another hickey suckled into your throat.

“yes, yes, y-yes! ‘m daddy’s girl— satoru, please,” you can barely think never mind speak with how perfectly gojo’s pressing into the sweet spots inside of you, your words coming out a jumble of moans and whines. it’s like he’s mapped out your nerves before hand despite the way this has been the first real feel of you. but his fingers are so long that it’s almost too much with how well he seems to pet at your walls, so good that you could spend forever right here.

“oh, then i’m all you need, yeah? your one ‘nd only?” gojo’s words are possessive when they’re buried into the next hickey he sucks into your skin, his tongue hot as it lavs over the raised mark but it only seems to ignite the flames that lick at your spine as your legs shake. your thighs close around his wrist but he only fights to pry you back open so he can watch the way you cream around your stepdads fingers, laughing so fucking infuriatingly when he keeps going until you’re twitching and making his smug smirk stretch even wider.

“so good fo’ me, wish you could see how pretty y’ look like this, princess.” you’re breathing in short, quick pants as the buzz from your orgasm makes you dizzy. but despite that, you still seem to move so easily when you feel your daddy pat at your trembling thighs, urging you to push yourself off his lap and onto the cushion at his side before he’s turning to look at you once more.

“gonna look even better on daddy’s cock though, yeah?” gojo lets his large hands smooth their way up your thighs before he pushes himself up to his knees — easing down the waistband of his sweats to take out his heavy cock as you nod shyly, still reeling from your orgasm as your eyelashes flutter prettily.

you should feel gross with the way you almost drool at the sight of your stepdads cock, someone who’s meant to parent you not fuck you, but you think that shameful part of you already died when you creamed around his fingers. now, you’re only left with the longing to have him sink up into you, warm and long. so he leans down to kiss you greedily, pressing you into the cushions beneath you as your thighs spread for the push of his hips and wrap around him.

“hmmm, so greedy. my pretty baby.” gojo mumbles as he yanks your shirt up to pool around your breasts and the sight makes his cock twitch as he pulls back to give you a pretty look, brushing his hand through the snowy peaks of his hair so you can take in his hypnotising gaze that make you shudder underneath it like you would on a white winter. he presses the blunt tip against the entrance to your pussy and he gives you another teasing grin when he pauses for a few moments, waiting until your lips part to whine at him before they curl around a moan when he sinks into you instead.

but he knows he’s really fucked with the first saccharine squeeze of your walls around him as he breaks you open, watching the way your puffy folds spread for him because he knows he’ll never be able to stop. now he’s had a taste of the pretty little pussy that’s always parading around his home, he wants to keep you all to himself — ruining you for anyone who isn’t your daddy. you won’t need anyone else when he’s here.

“daddy! ‘s too much..” you gasp and it draws gojo in so he can kiss you again, rocking gently into the hug of your pussy until he finally bottoms out with a drawn out, long groan as his hips press flush and tight against your own. but because your step dad has always been careful, caring he gives you time to adjust to the stretch as his mouth twists softly into yours — bathing you in sweet kisses that make you relax before your hands are in his hair and you’re smearing your slick along his pelvis as you whimper for more, please! ‘ts s-so big..

“oh, but y’re so hungry for me.” his words are emphasised by the slow sway of his hips, pressing the length of him along the sweet spots inside of you that he reaches so easily as he pulls away to suck on his lower lip. “see?” he grits again as he presses down onto your stomach and it’s insane the way he suddenly feels deeper — the sharp cut of his stare so intense on the way you take him that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could see through you.

“look at me, angel,” gojo’s lips part ever so softly as his eyes search for yours again “wanna see you when y’re on the end of daddy’s cock,” and he wants to pinch your cheeks when you give him a starry-eyed look.

“wanted this pussy for so long, knew it was fuckin’ made just for me.” his words are hissed from between his teeth as he starts a pace that’s not particularly fast, but it’s heavy enough to have you jolting beneath him as his hands grab at your hips to keep you in place. his words are true after all, he can’t even count the amount of times his sweet little step daughter had him hard — too warm under his clothes despite the way he always seemed to look away before you caught him.

maybe if he’d met your gaze, coaxed you into him and let you catch the way he’d drink you up he’d have had you like this sooner. but gojo thought you to be so untouchable, but now your pussy is squeezing tight around his cock and he’s mouthing at your throat like he’s dreamed and that thought seems to fade away.

but your mind is a mess with how well he’s fucking you — losing yourself in the feeling of your daddy, in the feeling of finally having him close to you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to meet every wet connection of his hips with needy little grinds of your own. the blunt head of his cock feels like it slides along all of your sweet spots perfectly and you’re not sure if it’s still the lingering aftermath of your orgasm that has you so close already, or the realisation that the man over you is someone who should be anything but.

the reality is gojo’s deliberately dragging the pleasure out of you, rocking his body seamlessly with your own because he’s determined to have you craving him like he will you. he’s grinding his pelvis along your putty clit with every thrust and he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything sweeter than the sound of his name on your lips when he’s kissing you once more.

“daddy~ ‘m so close!” you gasp dreamily and your pussy squelches as warmth bursts and tingles across your thighs — the sweet lull your voice seems to have taken making the man over you’s pace stutter as he forces more of his cock into your slick walls.

“oh yeah? can tell, squeezin’ real tight already.” gojo grunts as he pushes his body closer to your own, rutting you into the cushions below you like a wild fucking animal despite the way he feels completely at your mercy. he’s past caring, past holding back when the heavens and the earth have dropped a perfect little thing like you right in his lap like he’s the honoured one.

“you want daddy’s cum, sweet thing?” his hands almost curl into your hips and he swear his lungs quake on his next thrust as the needy coax of your walls tremble around him. he needs you to want him, to beg for him before he crumbles under the weight of his own desire. you offer him another moan, followed by a mantra of sweet little yes daddy’s and uh huhs that only make him greedier, but it’s not enough.

“hm? can’t hear you, gotta be nice ‘nd loud f’ me.”

but despite the way you know your mind should be signalling, ringing for you to stop. you can’t, your lips part and you feel like your body is going to crumble with every one of gojo’s crushing thrusts. “yes, yes! p-please, want your cum, daddy!” you gasp despite the way you shouldn’t but you feel him pet at your cheek so softly that you can’t help the way your body betrays you.

“then don’t hold back on me,” your step dad grunts and you don’t, your pussy throbs around him and he grits his teeth as your cream around his cock. his hips press into yours, snug and tight with the first milking compression that has his huge stature curling over you as he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck. but he doesn’t stop, he coaxes and fucks you through your orgasm until you’re like putty beneath him, thighs trembling to pull him closer and he hopes the fucking walls remember how pretty you sound when you cry his name.

“only f’ me, sweet girl. yeah?” he asks again and you struggle to stutter out anything coherent with how good you feel, the slight sting of overstimulation making you feel warm as gojo’s breathing becomes laboured and he finally spills hot and thick inside of you. but it’s filthy, when the back and forth stutter of his hips only seeks to push it deeper inside of you, a gooey ring of liquid forming around the base of his cock everytime he draws his hips back before they sink into you with another louder squelch.

he finally stills a few moments later as you whimper at the slight throb between your thighs, pushing gently at his chest to ease him off of you as he gives you a handsome, pink cheeked sort of smirk that you can’t deny makes you feel warm, loved.

“you could’ve atleast woken me up!” you hiss, playfully as you swat at your stepdads chest but he’s quick to take your hand in his before he’s intertwining them, leaning in to press a few kisses along your cheeks until you’re giggling and the infuriating smirk seems to return to his features far too quickly despite the way his softening cock still rests inside of you.

“oh yeah? but you were already so wet you must’ve been dreamin’ of me, sweet girl.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[zweiginator]

ok ok good cuz i am NOT done talking about college!artrick, it's literally my favorite version of them atm. (potential tw: dubcon and drugs 😵‍💫)

i need to be so fucked up/out that i'm unable to do anything, just totally limp. idgaf if it's from like overstimulation, weed, too many cocktails, or just like being fucked so good my brain turns off. completely helpless and at their mercy, y'know. need to have art and pat grab my jaw and nod my head for me, i'm too weak to do it by myself. :(((( but it's okey, they know what i want, they know what's right for me 😵‍💫

maybe it's them teaching me how to smoke weed and i just get waaaaaay too high. i was havign a hard time learning how to do the inhale properly, and they insist on repeating it until i get it right, and suddenly it's just too much too fast. and they just have to take care of me!!!!

and poor baby, my little pussy is so wet, she's crying for attention :((( they should help her shouldn't they, we wouldn't want her to cry? look at her so sad and lonely, bet she feels so empty doesn't she baby? she just wants some attention, huh? i'm too gone to properly give them an answer, but they know what i want, theyll nod my head for me :((((( RRRRAAAAAHHHHHH

-🐞

cw: noncon stuff, somno stuff, drug usage

college!artrick who quickly became your best friends. it was unconventional, at first. art had hit on you at the run-down bar that had since closed. and patrick, being the good samaritan and even better wing man slash best friend that he was — told you to go for it. to ditch your stupid asshole boyfriend that he mentioned hadn’t even bought you a drink. to fuck art.

“it’s truly harmless.” and your boyfriend was a douchebag. he hadn’t bought you a single drink but was nursing on his sixth beer. watching your empty hands and then turning to his equally awful friends to loudly ogle women that would never give them a second look.

art was sheepish and didn’t look at you. but obviously, patrick had gotten the idea of art wanting you from somewhere. so you squeezed in between them and nudged art’s shoulder and tried to get him to come out of his shell.

“he’s weird when he smokes weed.” patrick whispered in your ear and smoking a joint sounded way fucking better than swiveling on an unoiled barstool off campus in uncomfortable heels.

“do you have some?”

art looked high and he smiled at you for the first time since you met them. he pulled a little baggy from his jeans and nodded his head towards the door.

“can we go to your place?” patrick asked. he explained how he was visiting, how art was on the tennis team and his roommates slash teammates—one of which who was the coach’s son—were major fucking snitches. so it really had to be at your place.

you rolled your eyes and agreed that they could come over.

and they sat on the balcony all night with you. forty three missed calls from your boyfriend didn’t cajole you from the trance you were in with them. of course, they were hot. and the humidity was suffocating even past midnight. so of course, their shirts hung over the railing of your balcony as the three of you passed a joint around, leaning forward in plastic green lawn chairs, splintered and uncomfortable on your asses.

your high was heady, and patrick was feeling bold.

“if you’re not gonna make a move then i will.”

so patrick kissed you. it was a parched and awkward kiss at first; you both were dizzy from too much weed, your mouths awfully dry. but then art joined and his kisses were sloppy, his tongue prodding into the corner of your mouth until you grabbed his hair and kissed him proper. patrick sat back and reveled in his creation, swigging a beer he stole from the fridge.

and your relationship with both of them just sort of remained stagnant.

you had long since dumped your boyfriend after he told you he fucked a blond sorority girl that night you had met the boys. you just shrugged and told him it was whatever—you made out with two tennis players anyway.

and people around campus had come up with filthy rumors and lies. patrick didn’t live in town. people conjured up fantasies about patrick being a prostitute. that art was a goody two shoes and wouldn’t fuck you so he paid someone else to.

it got so tiring that art had confronted his team and coach about it, after it had gotten to them. said his relationship with you was none of their business, but slammed down an old photo of him and patrick when they were kids at the tennis academy, their cheeks plump and red from the sun, a racket in each of their grasps.

it wasn’t until one friday night that everything between the three of you changed. the ticking time bomb’s fuse had finally burnt to its end. patrick was back in town for the weekend and art was excited about it. he hadn’t been there since that fateful first weekend.

your roommates were out of town, too. so it was perfect. art picked patrick up from the airport and brought him to your place. you found it odd that the first place they would go was to your apartment. but you let them in nonetheless.

“what is your plan for the night?” you asked.

art took a shitty bong out of his backpack and a bag of weed.

“just smoking? there’s nothing else you wanna do?”

the boys shook their heads like there was some ulterior motive controlling their movements.

“okay, alright.”

so you smoked. and before you had hung out with art and patrick that one night, you really hadn’t smoked all that much before. you saw art’s bloodshot eyes as a way out of the shitty bar with your boring boyfriend and you took it. you had coughed your way through the joint last time—but the bong was intimidating.

“how do you use it?” you looked at the stem of it; it was nasty and you had already given art shit for it.

“what do you mean? i thought you were a huge stoner chick?” patrick said, between coughs.

“i never said that. i dabble but pretty infrequently.”

you were sat in between them and both their sets of eyes flickered from the expanse of your neck, to your eyes, down to your lips again. a cycle of ogling you that you dismissed. and as you grabbed the bong they shook their head.

“that’s gonna make you cough like a bitch.” art warned.

“probably enough to make you nauseous.” patrick was seemingly parroting every point art was offering in favor of not using the bong.

“then what do i do?”

they said they could help you by shotgunning it into your mouth. and you had somewhat heard of that but you said that would be okay. you watched patrick light up while art sucked the smoke into his lungs. he grabbed the back of your head to pull you in and then the smoke was in your mouth.

“inhale it.”

and you did what he said, but you felt yourself stumbling over your sandals as you mounted him, still sat in the wobbly lawn chairs that could barely support the two of you.

art grabbed your waist and pulled you in by your belt loops. he was sunken in eyes, puffy and half-shut. he was chapped lips, which you licked for him. he was shoving his tongue into your mouth and you were grabbing his jaw to maneuver him how you wanted him and patrick just watched.

“your turn.” you turned to patrick, and art reached for you to stay. but then patrick took a hit with art’s kind help. and he repeated everything art did. grabbed you and pulled you to him. pushed the dank smoke into your mouth and ordered you to breathe it in.

you were so high and dizzy. outside of your body. you kissed patrick too, clawing at his chest and grinding yourself down on his very obvious erection. you were certain people could see you if your neighbors were out on their own balconies.

so you stumbled inside and into your room. patrick slammed the door and didn’t bother locking because it didn’t matter. art was on his knees, taking your sandals off. you could barely keep your eyes open but you could feel your cunt weeping with arousal. you wanted them so bad and you mumbled that as you fell on your back onto your bed.

art looked at patrick. patrick looked at art.

“what’d you say, sweet girl?” patrick stroked your cheek and pushed his thumb into your mouth. you sucked it, hallowing your cheeks.

“i want you guys.” you mumbled it softly, but that was enough for art, still on his knees, to yank your shorts down your legs.

you flipped onto your stomach and the boys looked at how your ass moved, still in your little pink panties. art kissed your lower back, your plump ass cheek. it was patrick’s turn to undress you, so he shimmied your panties down your legs and they stared at your cunt.

glistening, warm, inviting. patrick spread your legs further and you moaned. let them.

“fucking shit.” art ran his thumb through your folds. “she’s so fucking wet.”

patrick did it himself, confirming art’s conclusion.

art petted your hair. “your little pussy’s so wet.”

“i know.” you nestled your head further into the pillow.

“i bet she wants to be filled up.” patrick offered.

you nodded. it was faint, but a nod.

patrick hurried to pull his jeans down, letting his cock spring out.

but now your body was limp as you fell asleep. drool pooled onto your pillow and patrick rocked against your cunt.

“wake up pretty girl.” art shook your shoulders and you moaned.

"hm?" you giggled and art kissed you hard.

"do you want us to fuck you? fill your little pussy? she looks like she really wants it." art cooed in your ear.

"mm. yes."

patrick pulled your hips up and pushed into your cunt, using the flesh of your ass as leverage as his thrusts got harder and deeper. your body rocked forward and soft mewls and whimpers left your mouth. but god, you were so, so sleepy. just felt heavy from the weed. from the weight of patrick on top of you as he reached around to rub your clit.

you clenched around patrick.

“that feel good?” patrick groaned against your ear and you let out a tiny, almost indiscernible whimper. patrick grabbed your jaw, nodded for you.

“fuck—baby—“ his thrusts got sloppier and art was still hard.

so he pushed his boxers down and stroked his cock. up and down. up and down. you were dozing in and out of sleep; they could tell when you came to due to your sweet, saccharine moans that were pushed out of you when patrick’s cock was in you, to the hilt.

“fuck you make me so hard.” art rubbed the head of his cock against your lips. so plush. drool running out from between them. his precum leaked on your mouth and he used it as lubricant to rub himself all over your lips, your cheeks, your face.

“artie-“ you whimpered and stuck your tongue out. you still could barely open your eyes; they felt glued shut. would be easier to keep them shut.

art held the back of your head and fucked his cock into your mouth slowly.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

you sputtered around him and your eyes watered as art jerked himself into your mouth, using you. but your sounds of contentedness fueled them. your poor, limp body so high and outside of yourself. your best friends wouldn’t want you to be so empty, so alone like this.

patrick came on your back and art on your face and then they were spent and all three of you fell asleep, after they wiped you clean.

[darby-rowe]

mmm post pk coryo w somno.....

yes lord 😩😣

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw NONCON SOMNO, ABUSE OF POWER, implied perv!reader

coriolanus sneaking into your bed while you’re dead asleep, his cock painfully hard as he gently pulls back your blanket and undresses your lower half. he has to bite back a curse as your pussy is revealed to him — so ready to be fucked by his cock.

and it’s not like you can say no to him. he’s leagues above your pay grade, making you susceptible to whatever dirty thoughts plague his mind. it’s evident in the way he slides the head of his dick in between your folds that you’re nothing more than a pretty little plaything for him.

when you wake up to the foreign intrusion of coriolanus’s rock-hard shaft fucking your cunt, that pit deep within your tummy falls to your feet. you go to shout at him but he’s quick to attach a vice grip to your mouth with his hand.

“be quiet,” he hisses, breath shaky from how fucking good you feel. “i’m so close to cumming. just let me finish. please, please, please—“

and the sickeningly warm feeling of his cum dumping deep inside is enough to make you want to claw your skin off. yet, there’s something about your own orgasm that makes your thighs shake and eyes roll back into your skull.

[rottiens]

i... i'm sorry....

i'm thinking about an older stepbro!Megumi now (or stepdad dealer's choice lol)... like maybe a 20-25yo reader w 30-35yo Megumi who's desperately trying not to follow in his father's footsteps. but we all know the fushiguro bloodline is slutty as hell...

you're his stepsis. of course you're off limits. you're cute, maybe even his type if he's willing to admit it, but you're off limits. plus with the age difference, y'know, it'd be kinda weird and fucked up. but still you're so cute he can't handle it sometimes. but of course these feelings get bottled up and he's generally pretty normal. maybe quiet and reserved if anything but the two of you do get along pretty well.

maybe it's weird for you to hang out with a guy so much older than you but you enjoy his company and even just hanging out and playing video games with him at his apartment is fun. plus, he lives closer to the city than your parents so when you go out late with your friends, you can crash on his couch. you feel safe with him.

it was after one of these late nights with your friends you stumble back to his apartment. he's usually up late playing video games, so you just start babbling and telling him about your evening. you flop down on the couch with your head on his lap. he'd push you off but you're drunk and tired and you kinda just fall asleep after a couple of minutes.

you're snoring a little, mouth open, nearly drooling on his cock. he's frozen in place, eyes flitting across the exposed skin from your skimpy outfit. his hand accidentally brushes against you as he pulls a blanket over you, but you don't stir. his game is entirely forgotten as his fingers slide under the blanket, following the contours of your curves.

you snore again, snapping him out of whatever lustful haze had him touching you like this. he wasn't like his father. you were off limits. you trusted him and he wouldn't abuse that trust. still, the annoying snoring had to stop.

"shut up, stupid." he mumbled with a soft smile, sticking his fingers in your mouth. he didn't expect your lips to wrap around them, lazily sucking with a soft moan. his cock twitched against the side of your face. he wasn't like his father, he repeated to himself as he wondered if you'd suck anything he put in your mouth right now...

35 years old megumi immediately gives me a boner. sorry but imagining him as muscular, a bit more grown up and bigger, with a pronounced jaw and more like his father makes me drool a little bit.

you're so evil for that ending. and i think megumi wouldn't do it, not because he doesn't want to, but because his desire to prove to himself that he is not his father's equal is much stronger than the erection he has right now. yeah, he plays a little with your tongue, yeah he lets you suck them a little while he wonders what is going on in his head but gets them out of you before he can do something he will regret.

he gets up from the couch and goes straight to the bathroom. he closes the door with a bang and locks it. and with the same hand full of your saliva he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off under the cold shower water.

[pekejscatbed]

I wanna fuck you like an animal | König x GN! AFAB! Reader

Info/Warnings:

This is a r*pe fic. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Read at your own risk.

fanfic masterlist

———

König can't help himself, not when you look so small next to him, his tall figure towering over you; the size difference drives him crazy, makes him ache with want and need and pleasure as he fucks into his hand in the middle of the night, thoughts of you- of how tiny you are compared to him- running through his mind, images of you caged under him as he fucks into you while you scream at him and beg him to stop as you sob flash in his mind. He just can't help himself, he really can't, and he knows you'll understand- you just have to!- so he sneaks into your tent one night, knowing you'll be sound asleep by now (Konig's been watching- stalking- you for a while now, memorizing your schedule in wait of this night, in wait of the night when he'll finally make his fantasies a reality and ask- force- you to be his).

The Austrian waits until everyone is asleep, and the camp site is quiet, waits until he knows you're asleep, then unzips his tent to sneak off to yours, where he slowly unzips yours and steps in, closing it behind him.

He towers over your sleeping figure, eyes wide with the look of a wild animal and grinning underneath his mask, his teeth bared as drool runs past his lips and down his chin as he takes in your unconscious body; you're on your side in your cot, one arm under your head for extra cushion, the other held against your chest, and your legs on top of one another. You wear a white wife beater tank and a pair of grey sweats, like most of the other recruits do, but the outfit just looks so much better on you than it does anyone else. A low, guttural growl escapes his lips.

König slowly turns you over onto your back, careful not to wake you- not yet. He brings a hand to your face, long, thick fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face, thumb grazing over your pretty- oh, so pretty- lips (König has to stop the whine that threatens to escape his lips as he imagines your lips around his long, thick cock, your cheeks hollowed and spit running down your chin as he thrusts into your mouth, making you choke and gag as tears gather in your gorgeous eyes and a mixture of bile and stomach acid rises up in the back of your throat).

His hands makes their way down your throat, resisting the urge to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, then down your chest, lightly grazing your nipples through your tank top, and down your stomach- oh, how he wants to rest his head on your soft skin, using your tummy as a pillow while he naps after a long day on the field-, until he reaches the waist band of your sweats. König slowly pulls your pants down past your thighs, lifting your hips as gently as possible to make the task easier, then does the same with your underwear, exposing your cunt to the cool night air; you shiver lightly in your sleep and König pauses, eyes trained on your face for any sign of consciousness (not that it would matter if you woke up now instead of later, as he can easily overpower you with just his size alone, though it would take away from his fun). When he finds nothing, he looks back between your legs, watching as your pussy flutters ever so slightly due to the cold and licks his lips under his makeshift t-shirt mask, his cock stiffening in his pants.

He pulls apart your pussy lips with one hand, using the other to gently swipe over your clit with his gloved fingers, then prod at your hole; you aren't wet, and his finger meets resistance, so König lifts his mask up past his lips to spit on your cunt, gathering it up with his thick fingers and smearing his saliva over your entrance, coating his glove in the process. He prods at your entrance again, still met with resistance, but his finger slips in this time, and he slowly works his thick digit in and out of your cunt, then adds another, now scissoring you open. Your unconscious body begins to react to König's protrusion, slick slowly building between your legs and coating the gloved fingers inside you, making it easier for Konig to slide his digits in, out, in, out.

Konig pushes his long fingers farther inside you until he's knuckles deep, and you shift again, a quite moan slipping past your lips. The man looks up at your face to see you still sleeping and smirks under his mask, pulling his fingers back slightly, then pushing them forward again; his grin widens when you moan again, and he's tempted to take you like this, to finger you to completion, but he won't, not now, at least. No, he wants you to cum on his cock, wants you to wake up to his cock inside you as he pumps you full of his own release and your bodies become one.

He pulls his fingers out of you, watching as your pussy tries to pull his thick digits back in, squeezing around nothing; König smacks at your cunt and your pussy flutters in response, and you whine in your sleep, the sound heavenly to König, who feels his cock throb in his pants, restrained by the fabric of his boxers. He grabs at your ankles, sliding your body down your cot until your legs dangle off the edge, and he fully removes your pants and underwear, throwing them to the ground (he wonders how you haven't woken up yet, but he's grateful, happy to play with your sleeping figure for a little while longer). Then he quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down the fly of his pants, tugging both his pants and boxers down to his thighs. König once again lifts his mask, this time spitting into his gloved hand and jerking his cock a few times, then he spits onto your cunt once more. He rests his free hand on your lower abdomen, palm open, and uses his thumb to circle your clit; with his other hand still around his dick, he positions himself at your entrance, slowly sinking his thick cock into your wet pussy. It takes a bit of effort, as he's girthy, more so than his fingers, and he didn't spend long stretching you, but it's what he wants, he wants to split you open on his cock and he wants it to hurt, wants the pain to make your cunt burn before it turns into pleasure.

The Austrian pushes the tip of his dick inside you, not stopping when he feels you begin to stir, instead forcing himself all the way in, in one quick thrust, his heavy balls slapping against the flesh of your ass cheeks. König groans as you squeeze around him, moving his huge hands to grip at your waist like you're nothing but a doll, your name rolling off of his lips. He pulls out slowly, reveling in the way his cock drags against your walls, stopping when his tip catches at your entrance, then pushes back in, not wasting anytime in setting up a brutal pace. He wants to wreck you, wants to ruin you in your sleep until you wake up, wants to watch the look of recognition flash of your eyes as you realize what's happening, realize what your Colonel is doing to you, fucking into you like an animal- like a monster- and knowing that you can't do anything about it but scream and cry because König is so much bigger than you, taller and stronger than you have ever been, and fighting against his harsh grasp would do nothing to save you from the man- monster- above you.

Under him, your body jolts and you start to wake, eyes slowly opening as an incoherent murmur leaves your mouth; your vision is blurry, and your mind is fuzzy, you don't register what's going on, assuming you're just having an extremely erotic and incredibly real feeling dream. That feeling doesn't last long, though, because the pain between your legs is all too real, stinging and burning with every thrust of the person above you, and all too real is the feeling of blood sliding down your ripped entrance and dripping down your ass, too. Suddenly you're fully awake, eyes shooting open, wide with panic, and your mouth opens in a scream that doesn't last even a fraction of a second before a hand much, much larger than your own is slapped over your mouth, covering the full lower half of your face, leaving only your teary, frantic eyes visible as the recognition finally kicks in and you realize just who that t-shirt made mask belongs to and the tears start to fall.

A deep moan dances past König's lips as you struggle against him, scratching and kicking at him the best you can in this position, fighting with all your energy to escape his towering figure and his powerful strength- to escape him- your wasted efforts doing nothing except turn the man above you on even more. König thrusts into you at an animalistic pace, hips snapping forward so harshly that the movement jostles your whole body; his thrusts are deep, too, and you can feel him abuse your cervix with each slide in, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. And you can, because König moves the hand bruising your side to your stomach, pushing down on the bulge in your belly to feel the outline of his cock inside you. The feeling is enough to make you cum, your body betraying you in your weakest moment, and the sight enough to make König cum, you squirting around his cock as he stills and shoots his seed directly into your womb. You cry as you orgasm, tears and snot streaming down your face as your body convulses around König's dick.

König removes the hand from your mouth to grip your jaw, digging his fingers into your cheeks to force you to open your mouth; he lifts his mask to his nose, revealing the sickening grin on his lips, and spits directly into your open mouth, kissing you right after and shoving his tongue in your mouth. As he kisses you, he moves his hand to your neck, squeezing so hard that you can no longer breathe, and when your vision begins to fade, and your eyes start to close— he lets go. You gasp for breath, sobbing harder than you ever have in your life as snot and tears stream down your face and run down your chin, some of the mix falling past your lips and into your mouth, and König takes the opportunity to shove his fingers down your throat, making you choke once more. He begins to move his hips again, fucking into your cunt as you gag on his thick fingers, bile rising up in your throat; he pushes his digits farther down your throat, until you puke around his fingers, and only then does he remove his hand from your mouth, grabbing at your chest before wiping his fingers on your shirt as vomit spews past your lips and dripples down your chin, mixing with the salty tears and mucus already accumulating on your skin.

The man above you groans, continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace despite the smell of vomit staining the air. He wants to fill you with his release until your stomach inflates, wants you to breed you until you have no choice but to birth his kids, wants to impregnate you and see the shame in your pretty eyes as you walk around with his offspring growing inside you. And he wants to make you cum as he takes you, wants you to cum on his cock as he shoots his kids inside you; he's determined to make you cum again and again and again. And he does, he makes you orgasm one after another without stopping, makes you reach a constant release until you're cumming dry and your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes limp as you lose conscious, passing out in the arms of the monster above who still doesn't stop, fucking your completely limp body like a ragdoll until he's releasing inside you again, filling you up so much that a mix of his cum and yours drips out of your abused hole despite his cock still sheathed deep inside of you.

When König finally pulls out, cum flows out of your weeping cunt, mixing with the blood from your torn skin, leaving a puddle of white and red between your legs and under your ass. He whines at the sight, giving your pussy another harsh slap before lifting his mask and dropping to his knees to shove his tongue inside your cunt, lapping at the mess of sticky white as his nose rubs against your sore clit. He stays there, eating you out and drinking in your juices until your legs spasm around his head in another dry orgasm despite your unconsciousness, and he has to hold your legs apart with his massive hands so you don't crush his skull with your thighs, though if this was how König were to die, between your legs after forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you all the while stuffing your cunt full of his seed, he finds he wouldn't mind.

(When you awake the next morning, your Colonel is gone, but the traces of last night, of what he's done to you, are still there; a mix of dried tears and snot and puke stick to your face and neck, and you can feel the crusting of left over cum on your ass and on the outside of your cunt, and your body is so, so sore, pain taking over your system as you begin to cry once again. Memories of last night flash in your mind like strobe lights, and you swear you can still feel his hands on you, can still feel his length inside you, and your chest heaves up and down as your breath becomes shallow and erratic, hyperventilating until your vision becomes spotty and your mind shuts off as you pass out once more.)

[missbunnybunny]

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗

▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊.

╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝

𝕿𝖜: ☞ 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝙽𝚘𝚗-𝚌𝚘𝚗, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 thoughts, 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢, 𝙱reeding, 𝙼ind break, 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖, 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃! «🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» ☜

Note: This is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader.  pet names such as Darlin, Love, and Good Girl, etc. are used.

If I forgot something plz tell me. Like and re-blog, it helps getting these stories to new people!

🫧𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖓', 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓' ❣️💌💌 part 1

Y/n was startled awake and panicked. Holding the sheets over her naked body, she found herself in an unfamiliar room. 

Silent tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. He tricked you and took advantage of your kindness. 

You mourned your lost innocence for a short time when a knock on the door interrupted you. 

“ I apologize for waking you up, miss Y/n.” a handsome man wearing a suit and carrying a tablet said. 

The scared woman clenched the sheets tightly, “ My name is Ray. Mister Blackwell has asked for you to join him for breakfast.” the man expressed. 

“n-No! I want to go home…let me go!” Y/n cried, face red from crying. “ I'm afraid I can not let you do that.” he shakes his head, “The maids will come and help you dress,” Ray commented before turning and leaving the room.

You cried until your lungs burned and hurt. Until your body could no longer produce tears, the maids shortly came. They helped you bathe and dress in a beautiful gown. They tried to cheer you up, but it was to no avail. 

Soon, Y/n sat next to James at a large binning table. He kissed your cheek and caressed your skin. His touch was sweet and caring if it didn’t disgust you. Food was served, but you didn’t want to eat. You don’t trust that it’s not drugged again.

“ Say ah~ my dear,” he says, pressing a fork to your mouth. When you don’t respond, he squeezes your inner thigh. When your lips parted in a yelp, he fed you. He continued to feed you. If you didn’t open your lips fast enough, he would swirl your sensitive pearl. 

The food was finished, and tears dripped down your soft skin. “ Come on, smile for me, sweetheart,” he asked, cupping your face and whipping your tears. “ I just want to go home.” You tearfully repeated. 

“ We can’t have that, dear. This is your new home.” James informed her as he stole a kiss from her. “ I want to go to my store,” Y/n pleaded. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

“ I already told your employees to take a weeks-long paid break.” James, shut your request down. He wasn’t going to tell you that, but Ray hacked your email and made such arrangements.  

Your face dropped all hope of escaping, where shattered. 

It had been a few days, and James made sure that all doors were locked, and Ray informed you that you could go anywhere. But strongly warned that you couldn’t be outside without supervision. 

James never left your side for your entire time locked in the large mansion. Sleeping, bathing, or even walking, he was there touching any sliver of skin he could. If he couldn’t find you for a moment or have his hands on you, he would lose his shit. 

James knocked on the door to his room, smiling when he found your sleeping figure under the covers. 

He kissed your lips, his tongue intruding your mouth. Lifting the covers from your naked body, his fingers began to caress your sensitive bundle of nerves. He thanked himself for prohibiting you from wearing clothes to bed. 

Your back arched as you woke up with a moan. He knew you were still sensitive from last night. His fingers began to pump into your flower, while his thumb still caressed your clit. Y/n hit his toned chest, but that only fueled his passion even more. 

Your lips parted as he gave you a dreamy sign. “ I have to go into the office, honey,” James spoke, latching his mouth to your chest. Your hand pulled on his hair, making the man moan. 

James curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot, over and over. The tight coil in your stomach made you whine, walls clamping on his fingers. 

With one more firm thrust, the coil in your tummy snapped. Honey gushed over his hand, withdrawing his hand, and licked it clean.

“ I have a meeting today, so unfortunately I won't be with you for a few hours. Be a good girl and behave.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, taking his leave and leaving you tired. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Y/n walked towards the side door, hoping, begging that she would get lucky. And it seemed that her prayers were answered. The maids forgot to close the door.

Her hand trembled and twisted the doorknob, slowly opening it. The wind blew, signaling she was one step closer to freedom. The door was left ajar as the woman ran to the street, with no phone and no way to contact her family and friends.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, ending up in the station. One she couldn’t enter because she had no money. An old lady exiting the station called out to her, asking if she was okay. 

Y/n said she was, but her eyes betrayed her. The kind old lady offered her help, to which she took it. “ I…I just need help to run away,” she admitted, desperate to leave. She didn’t know when they would have already noticed her absence.

The kind lady smiled and accompanied her to buy a ticket. When she handed the ticket to Y/n, the girl cried, thanking her. 

Y/n gave the lady all the jewelry she had, as a thanks and wanting to part with them in fear of recognition.

The train had arrived, and she left. Free, she was free. 

She planned to return home, take all her valuables, and disappear. She would be sad to close her store, but it was needed. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James sat in the meeting, bored, his assistant as always trying to get his attention with skimpy clothes. She would never be like Y/n. She was dirt under his goddess's feet. 

Ray came into the meeting room, whispering something into the CEO's ear. James looked like a deer caught in headlights, “ You sure?” he asked, looking at Ray. The man only nodded. 

“ I apologize, but something important has come up.” he expressed, standing up and abruptly ending the meeting.  

“ Ray, get the helicopter. I’m bringing my little darlin’ wife home.” James expressed, loosening his tie. 

The train ride was an hour and a half, so she could get some well-needed rest. But her mind raced, what ifs consumed your every thought.

 “ Ladies and gentlemen, we inform you that the train will have a small delay. We shall be on standby for some time.”  the conductor announced, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard. 

Dread filled your stomach, making it sink. 

“ Miss, please come with us.” a man in a suit said, “ You have the wrong person,” Y/n said, hoping it would work. 

“ My sweetheart, don’t make me punish you. Not in front of everyone here.” James said in a low voice.  His threat made you shake, trembling, hand taking his extended one. 

There was no hope of escaping the lion's den once you had stepped inside.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James held Y/n’s hand tightly, making sure she wouldn’t escape as he took her to his room. He thrusts her towards the bed, “ If you love me, you’ll never do that again. Understand?” he warns, removing his tie. 

Y/n backed away until her back hit the headboard. The muscular man graded her leg and pulled her under him. 

She began to beg him to let her go, that she would stay and not run away. He shoves his tie in your pretty plump lips. 

Only allowing for moans and whines to filter through. 

He has you caged in between his meaty arms, his gaze held a lustful and hungry glint to them. 

Tears fell as if rain from your eyes, “ Don’t cry, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” he kisses your tears.

Your tears felt like acid to his skin. He much rather you cry from pleasure. With his free hand, he removed his belt, tying your hands with them as if they were handcuffs. 

He rose and looked at your posed figure, his legs trapped by your hips, so you couldn’t escape from his embrace. 

He was going to make you feel better, make you see the high heavens. He began to worship your being kissing every scar, stretch mark, and so on. Any imperfection to you was perfection, a divine perfection to him.

Created by a higher being to be held, kissed, bitten, and claimed. 

He hiked your leg over his shoulder as he caressed your skin. Leaving kisses and hickeys over the skin. 

His hungry eyes looked at your teary ones, as he bit your leg.

His gaze lowered to your panties as he stared at them in hate like the small piece of clothing was holding your honey captive. 

The small piece of clothing became shredded into pieces when he ripped them. His rightful treasure was now on full display to him and only him.

 His large hand that once held your hip moved to your sex. With his index and middle finger, he spread your fold, groaning at the glittering sight of your slick.

His painfully hard member twitched upon seeing your dripping, aroused flower.

He groans, “ All this honey just for me?” he cups your cunt, feeling how it clenched around nothing.

Without warning, two larger fingers impale you, thrusting at an unforgiving pace. A long whine spills from your lips as you arch at the feeling.

He's hitting every sweet spot and curve inside you. His bulge grows even more at the sound of your watery juices. 

His thumb connects with your sensitive, neglected pearl, making you squirm and try to close your leg.

He slaps your pussy at the defiance, making electric pleasures shot throughout your body and brain. 

Y/n can feel the coil in her stomach tighten. Her hips met his thrust in chase of her own high. 

James speeds up his movements, watching as your eyes cross when he hits that spot.

Your walls begin to constrict his fingers, telling him that you're close. He bites the meat of your leg, his finger hitting deep inside you. 

Y/n came undone, eyes rolled to the back of her skull, drooling, back arch, and a pornographic moan of pleasure.

Cum covered his veiny fingers and his toned stomach. 

The sight almost made him cum in his pants. But, that milk was saved for his darlin's womb.

James pulled his pants down, allowing his hardened member to slap your sex. Thick and veiny. 

With your cum he gave himself a few pumps. The big man leans forward, his tip kissing your inviting honeyed entrance. 

“ See, you're so wet and sweet for me. You wanted this didn’t you?” he asks, his face flushed. 

His cock began to enter your wet, gummy walls, inch by inch. 

His hips stutter a little, and his body trembles with pleasure. The feeling of your lips sucking him in. 

With one hard thrust, he bottoms out in you. You moan, feeling so full, he begins to hump his manhood against your entrance. 

His almost in a trance, the sound of slick and moans adding to his resolve.

Each furious thrust thrusted her forward in the bed. His tip kissing her womb over and over, you’re moaning and pleas falling on deaf ears.

The makeshift gag swallowed all any sound that was not your monas, the sweet sounds of pleasure he wanted to hear from you. 

Y/n’s leg was still hooked over his shoulder. With his hands, he held her hips in a boa-constricting grip. 

Your overstimulated wall pulsed and twitched, “ Oh, you like that, huh?” he says, still drilling into her like a jackhammer. His hand pressed on the bulge in your small tummy. 

This made your walls tighten and pulse. His words and actions manipulated your dizzy pleasure-filled mind.

“ My pretty darlin’ going to look so beautiful, all swelled up with my child.” he groaned at the thought. Each thrust made your vision sparkle as if stars. 

The all-too-familiar feeling of the tight coil forming in your belly told you that you were close. James's thrust became uncoordinated as he chased that mind-numbing high he was looking for.

“You’ll make a cute mommy.” he moans. He removes your gag, as you beg and cry for him not to, but he crashes his lips against yours. 

He was going to snap you in half with the way he was bending your leg and fucking you at the same time.

The kiss was stymie, adding to the many pleasures you were feeling. Your mind was becoming blank, and you could only think of his dick inside you.

With a final harsh thrust, the coil in your gut snapped like a water gun. squirting over the man's abdomen and your inner thigh. 

James began to convulse, spilling his large fertile load at the feeling of your womb milking him dry. 

You felt so stuffed full and overstimulated. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become a mommy, a slave to his man's cock. James’s load pulsed inside you, making his cum spill from your spent hole.

You will be the perfect cock-sleeve darlin’ for him, your eyes closed as sleep takes over you. a content smile on your face. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

A new 🕳 to hide in 👩‍🦯

Tag list:

@tremendousdinosaurpizza @violetvase

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

©𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢! 𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎. - 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢🩻!

[eroslove88]

Yandere Kazuha Drabble

Warnings: Kidnapping (held hostage in your own home), drugging, somnophilia, noncon, implied virgin Kazuha and breeding kink

Notes: Been having some Kazuha on my feed lately and I had to write for him. Also, if you'd like me to add a "cut" let me know I'm kind lazy rn but if it bothers you don't be shy. :)!

Kazuha feels bad, you were so scared. His sword to your throat and his other hand twisting your arm behind your back. He couldn't help feeling a bit of guilt and pleasure from hearing your small whimpers and sniffles. When you met him he was so upset when you didn't say "your welcome" to his gratitude, you just nodded and practically ran away. So for the following weeks you'd occasionally "accidentally" run into him, but you'd stutter out an apology and huridly walk away before he could answer. He thought it was cute seeing you all flustered and shy.

He lead you back into your house and locked the door and he stared at your trembling form. Your hands wipe the tears from your face as you look at the floor, "P-please" you whisper out, "I-I don't have much-" but he walks forward making you gulp and stop midsentence. His hand cups your cheek and makes you look up, it was the boy from the docks, you avoid eye, "I don't want anything from you" he states wiping your tears away with his thumbs, "Just do as your told and you should be fine" your lips tremble as a sob builds up in your throat, it comes out a bit but your hands clasp over your mouth. You don't want to anger the man, "Hm" a satisfied hum as he let's you go and walks toward your kitchen.

He takes out herbs from his pockets and removes your kettle from its cabinet. You wanna question how he knows it's there but you don't wanna get in more trouble so you stand in the exact spot, frozen by fear. Kazuha starts a tea with the herbs and while he's bending down for cups you decide to run, your room wasn't far and though you're not one for risks- your life wa on the line anyways. As you make a right your left arm hits the wall and you resist the urge to stop. But you're barely half way down the hall when a gust of wind slams you into the wall at the end. You cry out in pain as your ears ring from the impact you have a cut on your forehead and when your hand comes up to press on the wound his foot steps on it pinning it down. It hurt like hell as you look up and fave your captor he seems upset but not in a, "How dare you" way but in a, "You give me no choice" kind of way.

The man slings you over his shoulder as you cry into in back he places you down on a chair in the dining area. A warm cup of tea is waitirfor you, "Drink." he demands pushing the cup closer. You're too busy wiping the tears off your face but he slams his first down on the table, which catches your attention, and though you're crying you nod and grab the warm cup.

You drink a few sips then put your cup down sniffling, "S-sir..." you pause before crying into your hands, "Don't hurt me, m'sorry. I don't know what I d-did wrong" you sounded so pitiful as he points to the cup, "Drink it. All. " he demands grabbing the cup and pushing it into your lips. Submissively you do so, it's hot and it burns your tongue and throat a bit but you tough it out and try to force yourself.

You don't remember anything after that, everything went black soon after you finished your cup. Kazuha however, remembers everything.

He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed and began hungrily taking your clothes off. He left hickeys on your neck and collarbones as his hands fondled your warm boobs. "Mmm, what a pretty girl" he whispers pulling at your soft nubs. His tongue licks between your breast and chills ran down your unconscious spine. You shift in your sleep as he flicks your nips. He watches your face in awe as it contorts when he sucks on your tit. A small moan leaves your lips and he almost looses it, he quickly unbuckled his pants and pushed you into a matingpress position. His spat on your already wet pussy hoping to help it lube things up. Kazuha tries to take it slow, but as soon as his tip enters your warm hole he whimpers and start pounding into you. The bed creaks with each thrust as labored breaths and huffs leave your mouths. A moan escapes him when your pussy clenches around his cock. He wonders if you could sense how good he's making you feel. "Aha~" you cry out and he realizes that nails are digging into the fat on your hips. But he doesn't stop, it turns him on and he picks up the pace, "It's ok sweetie- ah- almost there" he reassures your knocked out form. You cum on his cock and he's still chasing his climax as sweat drips down your faces and tears brim his eyes. A moan of relief leaves his mouth when he cums inside your cunt, he collapses onto your front side and looks at you for a bit, "I still have time" he mumbles wiping his tears of joy. "Gotta make sure you don't leave me" he flips your over onto your stomach and pounds your pussy from behind. He'll make sure you can't walk in the morning, and that his seed finds your sweet unfertilized eggs.