#hanging out on leaks day and screaming and crying with you all sobs

[gojoest]

looking for a second, hidden message behind official jjk twt posting so much gojo for the past few days, knowing it’s the final week and yes he’s coming back, that must be it

[mingtinys]

in a thousand lifetimes

pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

hurt / comfort , angst , mafia leader!scoups au

warnings : language , descriptions of blood , mafia themes

word count : 3.5 k

requested ? no

a/n : there's just something about the domestic side of mafia au's that i just love so dearly . secretly soft and fragile mafia leader crying in the arms of their loved one >>>>>>> ruthless and cold mafia leaders .

The day you stood by Seungcheol at the altar, you promised a myriad of unconditional vows, as did he. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health— until death do you part. To love him without doubt and cherish the heart he had so willingly placed in your care. You swore to cradle it with gentle hands; to keep it safe from shattering until the very last beat.

You were prepared for that. Excited, even.

But as Seungcheol limps through the entrance of the home you've built together, you feel your confidence in that pact falter for the first time. Perhaps you'd missed something in your vows. The part that told you what to do when the love of your life comes home stained in red. From his white button-up to his polished shoes— even his sweet, sweet face— tarnished.

You don't want him to hear the way your voice trembles. But God, that stench. That pungent scent of iron coats your throat and you can't help the way it constricts to keep the subsequent wave of nausea at bay.

"Cheol?"

His head snaps up at you like he's just now realized where he is. Glazed-over eyes connect with the wood floors you'd spent an hour mopping, then to his shaking hands painted in crimson, before that stale gaze finally lifts and meets your own.

"Are you hurt?"

He shakes his head.

"Seungcheol..." You take cautious steps his way, like how one would approach a wild deer. "Who's blood is this?"

Tears are in his eyes, but his face remains rigid. Like his brain is stuck in survival mode, but his emotions are leaking out.

"Chan's."

The boy's name hits your ears like venom. Sweet, gentle, kind, Lee Chan. The youngest intern under Seungcheol's leadership, you'd met him once at a company dinner. You don't think you've ever met someone with such a heart of gold. And it's a little hard to imagine you could be staring at all that's left of him. "Oh my God, is he okay? What happened?"

Seungcheol's face twists at your questions, some memory pulling at his brows and forcing his eyes shut. They open with fresh tears and the first ounce of clarity cracks through his otherwise dazed state.

"He's in the hospital—" You see the words catch in his throat. His fist repeatedly pounds against his thigh and his mouth hangs open until the words finally come. "It's my fault. He's just a kid, this is all my fault— he shouldn't have been there. They shouldn't have been able to get to him. It was too dangerous, he wasn't ready."

Nothing of his fragmented words makes any sort of sense. You've never seen him like this, so frazzled, so pitiful, so... broken. The sight of it twists your heart, contorting in your chest to such an unnatural degree there's a physical ache.

So, despite the nausea burning your esophagus and the screams of protest deep within your bones, your arms open and gravity pulls Seungcheol into them with labored steps. His knees buckle instantly at the contact and it takes every ounce of strength in your arms to catch him. Letting yourself sink with him to soften the fall; even if that means your knees land with a painful thud, already able to feel purple bruises blossoming from the impact.

Because you love him.

Because you vowed not only for better but for worse as well. And vows are only as good as the turmoils they prove to withstand.

Calloused hands grip the sides of your shirt. You try to ignore the stains they leave, pushing your focus onto the man before you on the brink of hysterics. His forehead falls to your chest, and that's when the most wretched sobs you've ever had the displeasure of hearing begin. Loud and sharp, like the blade of a sword, as they slice through the eerily still night.

A chill creeps in from where your knees connect with the hardwood and crawls up the length of your spine. It nests in your mind and metastasizes, igniting alarms in that little part of your brain that warns: you should be scared. Though it doesn't grant you the knowledge of what.

"Baby, what happened?" You ask and recite a silent prayer the answer to that is not him.

He sobs out an unpromising, "I can't."

"Seungcheol, there is too much blood for that shit. You need to tell me what the hell is going on." Your eyes are starting to burn with the flood breaching your lashes, unsure how much longer you can force an ease into your tone.

You need him to just spit it out. Before your heart explodes.

You steady his head between your palms and swipe at the blood spatter decorating his jawline. It just smears, mixing with his tears and tinting more of his cheek in a dull brownish-red. Seungcheol looks at you with eyes that scream please don't hate me and you don't know but... you know. Enough that when the confession finally pours from his lips, the shock doesn't totally shatter your ribs on impact. Instead, the words slowly seep into your skin and enter your bloodstream like a bitter poison.

Suddenly, minuscule details make much more sense, revealing the full picture like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. The nights he doesn't return until the sun breaches the horizon. The general air of mystery around his job and the "family business" he took over years ago. How insistent he had been with you learning some type of self-defense. All the way down to the dried blood that lingered under his fingernails.

You should be levels more upset than you are at his confession. Any normal person would be. He lied to you, for years. Hid a secret so large it could easily blow a crater in the earth should the measly stilts it balanced on collapse. Yet, the anger you feel doesn't boil over into a blind rage. It stirs with concern and simmers until it has been diluted into nothing but the type of anger that can only be fueled by love. It comes with the terrifying revelation that the person you love most in this world, could've been stolen from you at any moment and you would've been none the wiser as to how. It makes you want to hold him a little extra in the mornings, a little harder, closer.

Then, somewhere, in that tangled web of emotions fighting to reach the surface, there's an unexpected relief. Because one thing has been glaringly obvious since the day you met Choi Seungcheol. The reason he appears as such a pillar of strength relies solely on the fact that he shoulders the weight of the world alone. Rarely does he let his struggles reach his cheery expression. You can't help but think, now that you know, there's one less burden he has to carry by himself.

"Please don't leave me," Seungcheol rasps out. You'd nearly forgotten where you were for a moment. Forgot his face was still between your hands, that blood still smeared his cheek, and tears were still slipping from his lashes. But at this moment, as those weary earth-brown eyes search your face for an answer, you realize just how malleable your morals are when it comes to him.

"I love you." You confess, like it's the first time the phrase has ever left your lips. "Cheol, I love you more than anything in this world." So much it frightens you what you're willing to forgive.

But then again it doesn't. Because he's never been Choi Seungcheol, the city's most feared mob boss. To you, he's always just been Cheol. The man that nearly burned your kitchen down two anniversaries ago trying to make you breakfast in bed. Who pouts and whines when you haven't given him enough attention after work. Who's touch has only ever been as gentle as a Summer's breeze. And maybe you're naive, but you'd like to believe the Seungcheol that peppers your face with kisses every morning and begs for five extra minutes in bed is a truer reflection of his heart than his job.

With one final deep breath to steel your nerves and silence the brigade of questions swirling in your head, you press a long kiss to his temple— one of the only areas not tainted with red. The tension in his muscles visibly melts away at the contact and beyond anything he just looks... tired. You want nothing more than to let him rest in the safety of your arms, but he's still covered in Chan's blood.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" You coax him from the floor, never once letting your voice slip above a gentle whisper. He tries to protest, insisting he needs to be at the hospital with the others to check on Chan, but puts up absolutely no fight when you tell him that can wait until tomorrow as you guide him towards the bathroom.

You gather towels and fresh clothes and lay them out on the vanity. "Take your time, okay? I won't go far, promise." With one last reassurance, you leave Seungcheol in privacy to shower and clean the blood from his skin.

Alone now, the adrenaline in your veins dissolves, and the full gravity of everything finally crashes around you. The metallic scent lingering in the air, the drying blood on the hardwood, the feeling of impending doom that comes with a truth so heavy. It's too much, at least to bear in such a tiny apartment. You all but sprint out the front door, accidentally letting it shut with a hefty slam.

The warm Summer night air hits your skin and wraps around you like a security blanket. You inhale deeply, once, twice, thrice, and on the fourth breath, it feels like the oxygen finally reaches the base of your lungs.

You sit, for a length of time you remain ignorant to, at the bottom of the stairwell. Lost deep in thought until the buzzing of your phone reverberates from your back pocket. You look at it but— no caller I.D.

Answering it anyway, a sense of comfort fills you at the familiar voice.

"Jeonghan." You greet.

"I'm sorry to call so late," He says, voice languid. "I just wanted to know if Seungcheol got home safe yet."

"He did."

There's a long pause of silence. Just the steady beeps of a heart monitor on the other side of the line. Then, "Is Chan okay?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping right now. Doctors gave him some of the good shit to knock him out for the night." There's a hesitance to the way he speaks and you think perhaps he's weighing in his mind what excuse Seungcheol might have told you as to why Chan is even in the hospital to begin with.

"Jeonghan, can I ask you something?"

"I can't promise I'll have an answer, but sure." He's always been so calculated in the way he speaks, which makes sense to you now.

You chew at the inside of your cheek. "Seungcheol, he... He keeps himself safe, right?"

"You know." He sighs, matter of fact.

"I do."

"He's careful, smart, keeps his hands clean-ish. We all look after each other, he's about as safe as he can be." The man on the other end of the line yawns, and you wonder how long he's been up wondering if Seungcheol made it home before he finally called. That in and of itself should comfort you and prove Seungcheol has people who care about him when you're not around, but it doesn't. You don't think anything ever could at this point. Perhaps it was better not knowing the truth.

"That doesn't exactly make me feel better."

Jeonghan snorts. "I didn't think it would."

Another stretch of silence spans over the line for an uncomfortably long time. So long, you begin to think maybe the call disconnected. But that steady beeping is still there, quiet, but there.

Then Jeonghan speaks, his sudden words sending ice pricking through your veins. "You're an accomplice now, you know?" His voice carries no emotion. It's as if he's reading the words straight from an instruction manual. "Unless, of course, you turn him in."

Oh.

You hadn't thought of that.

"Would you?"

His question lingers in the air like smoke, suffocating your airways so much it feels like you might choke before you can even answer.

Never has the idea of betraying Seungcheol's trust ever been a thought in your head, much less an option. But he's right. Your newfound knowledge makes you just as much a criminal in the eyes of the law as if you had committed the act yourself. It's either fess up while you still can or guard his secret with, quite literally, your life.

Perhaps you were a bit hasty. It was easy to hold Seungcheol in your arms and whisper comforting words between his sobs. However, when it comes to your own fate, you're forced to reckon with the dread that washes over you like a bucket of ice, alone.

Still, you're embarrassed that not even a shred of doubt weighs your decision. Just an immeasurable amount of guilt.

"No."

"You don't sound so sure."

"It's a lot to process." You defend, trying not to let your voice waver too much under Jeonghan's scrutiny.

"I know it is," He relents, and suddenly, his voice shifts back to the soothing, angelic tone you've always been used to. "I'm sorry, I haven't even asked how you're feeling."

The conversation lulls in what you assume is Jeonghan leaving space for you to share if so you wish. You don't— knowing that if you were to loosen even a single thread tethering your mind in the realm of sanity, it would all unravel. You've only just begun to construct the brittle wall that separates your Seungcheol from the one covered in blood. If it were to take a blow so early and come crumbling down, you fear you may not have the strength needed to start over.

Your current position is precarious and emotions are already tricky— pouring them out to Seungcheol's best friend even more so.

"I'm fine. I should probably get back to Cheol." You say instead.

Jeonghan hums. "He's had a rough night." Steady beeps still pulse like a metronome in the background, mixing with a subtle chatter. "Let him know everyone is okay and if you two need anything, just call."

"I'll tell him."

"That means you too."

A voice calls Jeonghan's name and the line goes dead before you can say anything more. Not that you had much else left to say— or anything that would be news to Jeonghan at least. It felt like he knew more about your spinning mind in one phone call than you'd pieced together since Seungcheol stumbled through the door.

Seungcheol.

Seungcheol, who's been alone in your tiny apartment for who knows how long at this point. With nothing but his thoughts and a water heater that runs out far too quickly to comfort him. Your heart aches at the idea of him crumpled up in the basin of the porcelain tub alone.

Seungcheol, whom you find sitting at the kitchen island with his head in his hands— hunched over a steaming mug of tea— upon your return. His hair hangs down in damp strings, dripping onto his pair of comfort sweatpants, the ones he tends to gravitate towards when he's had a long day.

The door clicks shut behind you and his head snaps up with lightning quick reflexes. A wild look flashes in his eyes, but it melts away almost as quick as it came. His shoulders slump with relief and for what seems like an eternity, he just let's his gaze linger.

"I didn't think you were coming back." He rasps. His fingers curl around the mug, siphoning off some of its warmth to combat the slight chill in the air.

His hands are clean now— free of any trace of dark red— then again, they never really were. Probably never will be.

"To be honest, I wasn't completely sure I was." You're still some distance away from where he sits, a fact you're made painfully aware of by the way his eyes flit between you and the door. As if he expects you to flee at any moment.

"I would understand, you know?" His voice is as soft and genuine as it was the day he said I do. "I wouldn't be mad. My job, this life, it was never supposed to be your burden. You can walk out and I wouldn't—" His voice catches and he takes a swig of his tea, cringing at the temperature as it goes down. "—I wouldn't stop you."

You know he wouldn't. Because Choi Seungcheol is a good man. There would not be a ring on your finger if he wasn't. It's why you're so comfortable closing the distance that separates you two.

It's why you're so comfortable excusing all of his wrongs.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You should." He croaks. Tears gather at his waterline and on instinct, you wipe the first to fall away. But more continue to silently slip down his cheeks. Unable to catch them fast enough, you step between his legs and guide his forehead to your shoulder with a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

Seungcheol lets out a shaky breath as your fingers trail down the nape of his neck to just between his shoulders, then back up again. You hold him. Just as you've held his heart for years. Delicate. Like handling glass.

"I love you," He whispers. "I'm sorry I lied, I— all I ever wanted was to keep you safe."

"I know."

He tilts his head back, staring up at you with damp cheeks and bloodshot eyes. "I don't deserve you."

You tuck a piece of hair that's fallen into his eye behind his ear. "I could find you in a thousand lifetimes and there wouldn't be a single one where that'd be true."

"I'd still spend every one of those thousand lifetimes making it up to you." His hands grip your hips, holding you steady, as if he's still scared you'll run away.

"You." You hold the underside of his chin so he can't divert his gaze for your next words. Your tone is a firm, bordering on authoritative. "Make it up to me by coming home."

Seungcheol nods, but it's not a good enough answer for you.

"Don't ever make me plan your funeral, Choi Seungcheol. Do you understand? You cannot do that to me."

"I won't."

"Promise me. Because I swear if I ever have to hear from Jeonghan that you're not coming home I swear I'll—"

Seungcheol takes your hand from his chin and pulls it flat against his chest. The quick but rhythmic beats of his heart calms your barrage of threats instantaneously.

"I promise."

The words leave his lips slowly. Each syllable is enunciated loud and clear, so the sincerity with which he says them can reach your ears without doubt. His words linger in the air and all you can focus on is his pulse. How terrified you are that one day it'll stop before your own. That there could come a night where your head rests against empty sheets instead of his chest. No longer lulled to sleep by its steady beating.

That thought rattles you more than any crime Seungcheol could commit.

It takes Seungcheol's thumb grazing over your cheekbone to realize you're crying. But then it becomes unstoppable. More worries spilling out in the form of tears. It's the not knowing that may be the end of you.

"I want you in this lifetime, Cheol. I don't want to wait until the next to live a full life with you. So I need you to keep that promise."

Seungcheol rises from his seat and brings you into his chest. Allowing you to hide away from the horrors of it all in his strong embrace. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it home to you." He reassures. And the sheer determination in his voice makes you believe him.

"And no more secrets, okay?" You mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt. "I want you to tell me everything."

"It's better if I don't." He whispers with a deep exhale. And you want to be more upset with his answer than you are. But he keeps rocking you side to side and pressing long kisses to your temple.

"All you need to know is that none of it comes before you." The sincerity in his voice is as prominent as it was reciting his vows. "Everything I've built. All the money and power in the world— I'd burn it all to the ground for you."

[ratskinsuit]

Hii! I was wondering if you could write for sub!Lucifer and Gn!reader.

Basically, I was like wondering if you know you could write about that, but like the scenario is you know Lucifer being a brat …

And you know while reader they’re handling him they almost get caught, and reader tells Lucifer to be quiet.

But yeah, I was just wondering if you could write for it thank you! 🩷💕

Oh ho, Lucifer should have REALLY thought before deciding to tease you all day

He wore some slutty booty shorts, teasing you with those seductive winks

teasing glances, bending over every couple minutes

So what else did he expect when you get him alone, and he's dragged into the closet

hand down his pants and he's bound with his own tie, on his knees on the floor, foot on his cock

Your kneel down next to him, grinning down at him, your fingers in his mouth as his hazy glowing eyes stare back at you dumbly, whimpering and drooling around them

Trying desperately to buck up when you replace your food with your hand, palming him through the obvious bulge in his pants

"P-puh please... ngh.. I- k... hng... I, I know I've been a b-ba- f'ck, bad b-boy, but hng- mercy... mercy da-arling..."

He cries out when you finally pull down his pants, stroking him lazily through his underwear, soaked through with his own pre as he babbles, begging, trying to convince you that he deserves to be held down and fucked now

of course you take your time, stepping away as he cries and sniffles, tantalizingly taking off your pants and underwear, before going up to him and grabbing him by the hair and shoving him between your legs to prep your hole

drool and whimpers falling out of him and you as his usually skilled tongue dips inside of you, reaching those of so sensitive places, as you have to hold him by his hair

when you believe you have been prepped enough, you lean down, hovering over his leaking member as he spews empty insults and threats.

"F-fuckin- c'mon, fu-fuck me already!! you- hic- you can take-take the king... c-cant you??? hng- baby..."

He sobs and recoils as you grab him by his neck, snapping his head back, bearing his neck, to where you take a nip, earning a whimper, putting him in his place to realize your incharge

when you finally lean down, he cries out as the head pops in, going to start making your way down, you stop, hearing a familiar voice nearing

Charlie calls out for you and her dad "Dad? Dad you said you would help me with dinner, where are you??"

Lucifer panics, sputtering and trying to pull himself out, but you hold him down, making eye contact as you slam yourself down upon him

You have to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand to muffle the scream that rips from his mouth, crying and coughing, deep shuddering breaths at the sudden wave of pleasure

you keep your hand down as you ride him, up and down, his daughter outside the door

He cant think, tears run down his face, ruining his eyeliner and makeup, whimpering and heaving

"P-lea... mast- mhm.. hang o-mph.. ngh.... ah.. a-ack... hah.."

Pulling three orgasms out of him before Charlie leaves, and you finally drag the fucked out fallen angel back to the room for more

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A/N: I HAVE RETURNED AND IM HORNIER THEN EVER, I ALSO NOW WRITE CREEPYPASTA SO PLEASE REQUEST I BEG OF YOU

[suguru-getos]

Yandere Sukuna Hcs:

Warnings: Oh this whole post is a warning in itself LOL, Sukuna and also yandere- lots of NSFW, nonc0n, g0re, belittling. Read at your own discretion. I REPEAT, read at your own discretion this post isn't for everyone I went overboard.

King of curses and absolutely devoid of any sympathy at all, all he has is obsession towards you, catering and harboring to his every need. Once Sukuna manifests in his true form, he is unstoppable. You were among the few humans he wanted to fuck around with and then eat them, however- he took a special liking to you. It's just because out of all of them, you looked the prettiest when you were scared out of your wits. He calls you his slut, toy, plaything, weakling, meat. It's simple really, you don't get to wear any clothes around, you want to see what happens to people who disobey him? Of course not- as humiliating as it is, someone like Sukuna does not care and would want you to answer his every beck and call with that naked body.

You are not allowed to have a life/a purpose except to be the King of Curses' little toy. There are days he wants you to kneel in front of him, struggling as he warms your mouth, and iterates his stories from thousands of years back. Sukuna likes to talk after all. Looking down at you with a smirk when you nastily drool from down there. You won't get to cum, no use thinking about it.

Any/everyone who wanted to search for you was killed in front of you, you had no family, so the Sorcerer friends who wanted to find you were killed. Sukuna hung their heads for you to see every time you walk towards the entrance of the door. Just in case his beloved/slightly liked toy wants to escape.

Over a period of time Sukuna stops eating humans in front of you, something which annoyed him to the brim that he wanted you to not be repulsed and scream cry when he devours them alive. He can be sympathetic but would never express it. Weakness as such aren't allowed.

Walking around always naked would get some rude/crass comments from him, he doesn't want you to go to a salon to get waxed of course, but he would call you filthy for not being clean down there, pinching your clit and scratching it with his nail while you squirm and mumble apologies.

Sukuna is huge, and is manhandly, the way his two hands spread you apart in thin air, like a cross and fuck you, inflating you when his seed fills you until you scream, leaking out and inflated. Sukuna doesn't like it going to waste so you better believe he will turn you upside down, hanging for hours just to check the possibility of you somehow being bred.

Sukuna can be kind enough to let you eat whatever you want, on cases where you starve yourself, he will threaten you to feed human meat. You can't possibly test him because he just might. He also has this sick, devotion that his breedable fleshlight should be healthy. No restrictions on the quality of food.

Consent? Lol, you should be grateful he's letting you live. Though over a period of time he loves it when you turn extra possessive over him fucking other women. When he needs to show you his place, he would fuck them in front of you and then kill them, asking you if you liked how they orgasmed over and over until they threw up?

Sukuna can and will use collars on you, loves calling you his pet and would make sure you behave like one. Tamed and cute. The tongue on his belly would fuck you senseless on days when he wants to see you pleasured, other one playing with your tits until you sob and cry, unable to take it anymore.

Spankings are his thing, however, he caused you some visceral damage once he did it and he still has problems with how fragile you are despite being a sorcerer, so his preys - get the order to spank his little slut. "If you do a good job, your death would be painless." Oh boy they do. Ever since then, Sukuna can't tolerate you without a bruised ass. He also learned the exact strength on which to deliver spankings so you 'always' leave a little hiss when you sit down. Loves that, and calls you "Marked up so you know your purpose."

Sukuna who can sometimes be groggy and scoff when you come waddling to him, screaming about the horror of the nightmares of his actions. Ironical, how you have no option but to run to him for comfort and would let you sleep with him. Condition is: You will have to repay his kindness. Sometimes he pretends he forgot it just to go easy on you, sometimes he uses it to his undue advantage.

Sukuna has been mean enough to have fingers of a severed hand tucked into your pussy because you clearly love to call him ruthless. The feeling of something dead pleasuring you while you cry and beg for mercy is all he needs.

Holy fuck I have so many more but I think I have brutalized him enough (He is brutal after all)

[josy57]

Into the Dark and Away 

When you've learnt by heart the patterns on the carpet The grain of the floorboards pressed flush against your cheek When you've grown sick of counting the dust motes Staring dazedly as they dance in the draft And collect under the dresser As so many discarded dreams When you’ve bored yourself numb and blind Stand up or perhaps crawl downstairs Sneak through the window, into the unlit dawn Light as a sigh, since no one is here to stop you Heavy as a sob, for no one is here to stop you. Through the garden, barefoot across the flower beds Bending the pliant necks of your mother's tulips Her ancient tabby cat, keeping watch from the parapet Wailing and whining, rasping its bitter refrain Won’t you wait, won’t you listen, Won’t you please try and understand You headstrong girl, You silly girl, You golden child But it’s too late for pleading, you’ve been halfway gone a long time So go for good, Go over the fence and into the fields Over the fence and away

Go and sleep under the willow tree Where its long fingers will trace its sorrow upon you There you might find rest and forget Forget the lonely sound of the leaking faucet Forget the unlived life And even your own name

When the alarm clock rings with echoes of school bells Tolling mercilessly, striking the hour When the chirping of birds turns to nasty singsong Twittering their teetering chant When you haven’t closed your eyes in weeks And yet morning still comes And yet duty calls, clamoring for another ounce of courage Another shred of surrender, another pound of your bloodless flesh Open the backdoor, let the radio fry itself hoarse Let the phone hang and cry its phony tune Let the gate slam behind you, swaying on screeching hinges The old house, full of ghosts, nagging and begging Look back, turn back, come back You stupid girl, You lovely girl, You small, small thing But there is nothing anymore you wouldn't dare Nothing now they can forbid You’ve been halfway gone a long time So go for good Go, into the dark and towards the forest Into the dark and away

Go and sleep under the walnut tree Where breath is rare but the slumber is deep There you might find rest and forget Forget the taste of bile of every family meal Forget the endless list of tasks And even the grudges you keep

When you are all out of time, of hope, of composure When you've crossed all the days, all the Ts Dotted the Is and scratched them out in every Christmas picture Spent the last of your restraint And turned all the dials on the stove Walk to the end of the driveway, to the end of the road The tar still sticky with the day’s heat The faces of the whole neighborhood, Peering through curtains and keyholes And that voice, sickly sweet, tugging at your sleeve Pinching your upper arm Telling you not to make a scene in public The crunching gravel, coaxing and cajoling Stay here, within reach Stay near, within sight Sit, stand, beg, play dead Stay, stay, stay You stubborn girl, You dear girl You odd duckling For once, let it fall onto deaf ears Go, through the thistle, through the thorns Following the cool rustle of rushing water You’ve been halfway gone a long time So go for good Go, beyond the bend and along the river Beyond the bend and away

Go and sleep under the manchineel tree Where every touch is seared and etched into your skin There too you must sit still as the world eats at you Each brush like the lash of a whip But, at least, here you can ponder in peace As patient as a boiling frog Your head busy and buzzing With thoughts sharper than a hornet's sting You may think and think and forget Forget the whistled scream of the hissing kettle Forget the many reasons for your rage And even the way home.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

You've never felt this kind of sadness, it was drowning you. Ever since you saw him with her you immediately knew there wasn't any part left in his heart for you. No matter how much he said he didn't want her and he wanted you he just didn't look at you like how he looked at her.

How you longed to be the one Gojo looked at, your his "girlfriend" you should be the one he's looking at, staring at lovingly, always trying to hang around you. Instead you see him with another girl everyday, it's the same one. He looks at her as if she's hung the stars in the sky and honestly you think she might've with how much adoration just pours out of him whenever she's around.

You didn't know that he loved her until he came home one night to you, crying about her. They'd gotten into a pretty nasty fight and she was ignoring him when he tried to make amends with her. You nodded along to his sobbing ramblings as he went on and on about her as if she was his girlfriend and not you. And at that moment when you heard that he was begging on his knees for her to forgive him at her door in the rain, standing you up for your date together. (you haven't had a real date in months.)

So you left him, it hurt you so badly to leave but you couldn't keep handling it, the looks, the insults, the lies he constantly fed you. You felt as if you were going insane.

He was supposed to be someone who should've been yours, someone who was should've loved you instead of her, someone who cherished you. He promised that, over his heart his eyes filled with determination; hell you feel so foolish to have ever genuinely loved him, when he clearly never loved you. If he loved you, he would've tried, he wouldn't have stood you up, he wouldn't have basically left you for her while still your relationship.

Lord you couldn't take it, and the Lord knew it too. But they kept torturing you, at least it felt like torture.

It's another day without Gojo, you've gotten used it. He's with her again you assume and you don't even try to fight it anymore. Everyone knows it's a losing battle, even you. So you cry, and scream, and yell, and sob all over your house. You have half a mind to wreck the place, but you don't. Instead, your done with it. All of it, it might hurt without him but it hurts even more being with him.

You've been without him for months now, you can get used to years. You start packing erasing everything that you put in that house with Gojo. That you two bought together a huge step in your relationship you remember Gojo lifting you in the air and looking at you with adoration as you squealed and laughed as he spun you around.

Smiling slightly at the memory, you break down into sobs again, at the thought of leaving him. Almost second guessing yourself; almost deciding to stay to see if it works out in the end. Almost. A moment of weakness you fought it back enough to pack the rest of your things, get them into your car, and drive away without looking back. If Gojo wanted her that badly then you'll let him have her, you don't have to be in the picture anymore; you just didn't understand why he'd do this to you.

You don't know what she had compared to you, but you knew it wasn't much. You were with him since the beginning, in highschool with him; you two are were highschool sweethearts. Tears leak out your eyes like a broken facet and you thought you couldn't cry anymore but look at you now. So you pulled over, and connected your phone to the radio allowing Spotify to just pick a song. As you got back on the road.

I made a promise.

All you've done for him, was just thrown away at the sight of her and honestly you couldn't accept that. You just couldn't, all the sacrifices you've given, uprooting your entire life just for him. And he'd given all the love you gave him, for him to her.

To distance myself. Took a flight through Aurora skies.

These past few months all the emotions you've felt is just sadness, rage, and confusion. Stopping at a red light, you try to not think about him. Try to not think about how he's not going to know that your not there anymore until most likely two days later. You only left him a note, since he doesn't answer his texts or calls from you.

Honestly, I didn't even think about how we didn't say goodbye. Just ‘see you very soon.’

Pulling into the drive way of the fully furnished house you already bought weeks ago. You get out the car, and start unpacking everything. Opening the door, the house was void of any life a clear sign of a brand new start. Even though you didn't want a new start, you wanted the life promised by gojo, you wanted to wake up and see that this was all a dream and he was still yours. But, this is reality. He isn't yours, and he never was you've just never noticed.

It hurts to be something, it hurts to be nothing with you.

~☔&💫

truly all i feel is anger and i have a faint urge to take it out on the gojo in my own smau.

[titanicfreija]

What Happened

"So Sunny really died?"

"You're going to force this, aren't you?"

"You are visibly not healthy, so yes."

"She's right here, ask her."

"No."

"I don't want to!"

"I know."

"Please don't do this. I'll go home."

Thomas waited.

"You…you were there. You know how we fought it. We had to channel through our Ghosts. Do it backwards. Only Sunny, after we…. The Witness really fucked us up and she was… broken. Just. Her Light was leaking from cracks, like wet glue trying to hold the pieces together. And then she. Told me to do it anyway. And I did."

She held firm this time, fighting the tears down. 

"And she was ready. I know she was. She knew, she was ready. She told me to stand strong. And not to stop, even when she screamed." Freija lost her breath, and she choked for several seconds before she got it back. "So when it fell, she was…" now her face twisted and she screamed into her hands to vent, turning back to them with blood flooding her cheeks but voice stable. "She was dying. The kind of dying where you consider putting them down because there's no help here! We know the fucking difference! The shaking wasn't even trembling anymore, it was just twitching death throes! She couldn't speak!" She stopped walking and sobbed twice before she forced it to stop. "And I'm so fucking stupid because I told her she could rest before I told her I loved her!"

Thomas looked at Sunny, who had drifted low at Freija's right shoulder, glancing at him as she watched Freija cry. 

"I didn't notice," Sunny said. "I didn't get to say I love you, either. We had been saying it every two minutes for three days, though. I don't think we forgot."

Freija fought a sob down. "And I got her back, so I'm supposed to be okay but I'm having fucking nightmares and I can't go back to work because that's not helping and I don't know how to relax and– I hate this!"

"That's part of why we're here," Thomas assured her. "Emotional roller coaster needs riding out."

"What is a roller coaster? It sounds like it has wheels and that's all I've got."

"Basically, it was a sort of ride where someone sat on a cart of some kind and rode it up a steep hill, then rolled down the other side, coasting under their own weight, with several motions known to cause physical sensations like that falling feeling in your gut or taking a high speed turn. You'd like the idea, but being Risen probably messes with the fun to be had. But the point is the whole, steep rise, fast fall, getting flung around at high speeds. Emotional roller coaster is a way to say a lot of conflicting feelings happened one right after the other without giving you a chance to recover between. You were scared, battle-ready, then despondent and hurt, then relieved and overjoyed in maybe five minutes. Not even just sad, this was Sunny that died, that's huge. You got her back. That's even bigger because you were less ready for that."

Freija listened and compared, annoyed that it would be so simple and still bothering her like this. "This is stupid," she growled. "Fuck, why am I like this."

"I think this time I am going to blame the Titan. You guys are kinda intense."

Freija grunted at him. 

"What was it like to die?"

Why Rex asked where they could hear it was beyond Sunny, but she didn't think Freija would mind hearing. "It really wasn't that bad. It did hurt leading up, but then it got kinda warm and fuzzy. All I could hear was her voice and she told me I could rest. Which… I really thought about trying. But… it… it sounded nice. Like a bath after work, dying after using our power like that. I'm sorry, Freija."

"I know how it feels," she replied bitterly. "It's a relief. I told you you could rest. I knew you were waiting for permission. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Making you hang on like that would have been futile and cruel. You were done, and it was time to go."

"You sound like you made peace with that," Thomas observed. "Or at least that was the thing you were ready to face."

"Those cracks I told you about were days old. The Witness tried to rip us apart. It almost succeeded. I spent days coming to that one and staying with it. We couldn't even talk because it was the only thing I could think. And she said she was ready and she meant it with every mote of Light. So I did what I had to do and I killed my fucking Ghost, which, no. I wasn't ready for that. I got fucked up about it for trying and now I actually succeeded."

"I told you to. You didn't want to. You even tried to stop and I had to yell at you," grumped Sunny. "I felt it, I was so mad, I would have cussed you if I could. You hesitated."

Freija didn't look at Sunny, but she glanced at Thomas to see him watching her. She was ashamed.

"Yes. I did. You're my Ghost. You were dying. You were in pain. You screamed. And I knew I could offer you relief at the cost of the universe, and you would never forgive me. The rest of time might have been two minutes long and I would have been sorry for all of it and everyone would pay the price. And I still needed you to yell at me to hold strong because I wanted to make it stop for you. But you said it. And you meant it with every mote of Light. But that doesn't mean I didn't do it. And it doesn't make your death any less traumatic. I'm proud of you. I'm so fucking proud of you. And I'm fucked up over it. Cayde didn't undo it, he repaired it.

"So what's this about Cayde-6? He came back?"

"Sort of. Crow wished him into being in the Traveler. He gave his Light to Sunny's shell and helped her back into it, she said."

"It felt like a dream," Sunny said. "I was… I wasn't lost, but I did miss Freija and I didn't know where I was. I didn't really care that I didn't know where I was, but I cared that I couldn't find her. But then I heard him calling for me, like pulling the string that bonded us or something. I don't know. I felt him, and I felt him close. And then he was there, and he said he was done and it would be better that I lived. He said he wanted to do the right thing, and helping me stay with my Guardian was the right thing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We're made of Light, and so was he. So he… More or less, I guess, he let that shape go and he dispersed and he let his Light come to my shell so I could animate it again with my consciousness, and as soon as I got settled, his consciousness tapered off and he left. He swapped places with me, kinda. He animated my shell the same way as I heal Freija, and then he let my consciousness back in like I put Freija's back in, and… It was… it kind of… It was fuzzy, waking up, and I was in Freija's hands, and she was there. I know it was relief after losing me, but the joy in her eyes was immeasurable."

"I'm glad," Thomas said. "I'm… honestly, from what I know of the guy, Cayde wasn't bad, but he didn't do good things. Infamous, as they said. But he had a lot of good people who had faith in him, so I think he was good. Amanda doesn't– didn't make friends with bad people. She had an eye for the lost, I think. So I believe it."

"You don't," laughed Freija. "I can hear it."

"I'm justifying it now," he agreed. "But it's not hard."

[littlemelaninfics]

The War Sector|| DARK!Steve Rodgers Imagine

A/N: READ THE LION'S DEN FIRST :)

WARNINGS: NONCON, dubcon, Dark Steve, SMUT, dacryphilia, Dark!Bucky if you squint  

She laid on her back while he shushed her and gently placed her fighting arms down at her side. She began to conform as the tears flowed down the side of her face.

Steve ignored her sniffles as he lifted her shirt just below her collarbone to expose her breast, taking them in his hands and giving them a squeeze. The sound that his breath omitted filled her with shame as her nipples started to harden. He ran his palms down the sides of her frame, taking in her beauty.

Her breath starts to quicken as he moves down to unbuckle her belt and pull her pants down to expose her landing strip. 

“No panties? Naughty girl,” she starts sobbing silently as his eyes meet hers. They were so dark and empty, yet filled with something she’d never seen before.

“Turn over,” he whispered.

“No please,” she begged between sobs.

“Turn over,” he whispered lower than before.

She shut her eyes tight and brought her hands to cover her face before listening to his command. She turned over on her hands and knees, hanging her head low in sorrow. All she could do was wait for him to pull his cock out and assault her fo the third time that day. 

He soothed the flesh on her back before placing a kiss to her shoulder blade. He stayed hovered over her, almost protecting him from himself.

“My sweet girl,” he said as he lined himself up at her aching entrance. She prepared herself for the forceful intrusion that never came. At least not where she expected. 

Steve rammed his hard cock into her unprepared ass in one swift move. Her mouth fell agape as her body wouldn’t push the scream to the surface until he pulled back. Her sobs filled the room as he thrusted roughly in and out of her tight hole. 

His grunts and moans began to mix with her cries as he grew closer and closer to his release.

“Keep crying. It makes me fill with so much. Fuck I’m gonna fill you to the brim.”

Her sobs fell silent again as she held her position and waited for him to finish. She could tell he was close when his thrusts began to get erratic and non-uniformed. He removed his hands from the floor at her sides. One gripping her hip and the other making its way to her clit. He rubbed vigorously until he felt the sopping of her cunt.

“See, it’s not all that bad.”

She hung her head in shame once more, feeling like a dirty whore who liked being treated like trash. Steve never let up until he felt her ass tighten around him, igniting his own orgasm. 

He quickly pulled out, entering her pussy to coat her walls with his warm seed; fulfilling his promise of creaming her to the rim. So much that it’s leaking when he finally pulls out. 

Steve kisses her back once more before pulling her shirt down and pulling his pants up, leaving her to comfort herself once more. He stands to leave and walks to the door before opening it,

“Take it easy on her, Barnes. She’s been through a lot.”

A/N: sooooo, this is my first post! I really hope you guys like it and please send in requests!

[subspencer]

I had this in my thought in my head all day during so listen:

Sub!spencer with his glasses ! He has been needy all day, so he has been whining all day and getting on you nerves a bit. As punishment you tie his hands up and tease/edge the absolute shit outta him. It’s getting so heated that his cute little glasses start fogging up and bc he is tied up, he cant do anything about it which in turn makes him even more frustrated. Just imagine the desperate noises he’d make 🤤

wc: 965 cw: dom!afab!reader, sub!spencer, light breath play, bondage, orgasm denial (briefly), little bit of crying and begging

______

“Please?” he pants, squirming against his restraints. “I wanna see you.” Spencer cries out and it turns into a whine the longer you stay quiet.

You only tied up his wrists, but you may as well have blindfolded him, too. The second things got hot — literally — his glasses fogged up with the condensation from his own warm breath. He couldn’t see out of them enough to recognize anything even an inch from his face, let alone to see you on top of him, rocking your hips as you fucked him slowly.

You fawn at his desperation, grazing his jaw with your hand tenderly. “You know you can’t, baby.” 

His begging doesn’t help his case. It’s what got him into this situation in the first place.

All day long, he followed your trail, begging for your attention. “Such a needy whore,” you mutter, remembering how he acted earlier. 

You got one day off from work, and you wanted to use it to get some things done around the house. Cleaning, chores, errands — boring, but necessary things. And Spencer decided he was more important, trying to interrupt you every time your attention moved away from him.

He tends to be well-behaved for you, but today was the closest he got to being a brat. He got in the way of everything, begging to be kissed just one more time for five times in a row each time you stopped. Every task took twice as long with him lingering around in your home. 

Then the way he acted at the market crosses your mind, and you grind down harder on his dick, scratching your nails down his chest. A hiss leaves his lips and you smile.

You thought maybe he’d settle down once you left the house, so you let him come shop with you. Turns out that if he’s desperate enough, his hesitance to PDA flies out the window. He kept wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder when you wouldn’t look at him, nuzzling into your neck and peppering kisses on you for attention. He said he’d stop if you kissed him, but he lied. Repeatedly.

Nothing was enough for him. Not then, and certainly not now. You were going to make sure of that. Spencer wasn’t going to get nearly enough to make him cum tonight.

“Can you feel that, baby?” you smile, your hips picking up pace. He nods furiously, a soft sob leaving his lips. He knows what you feel like when you’re about to finish, the way your muscles tighten around him as you chase the feeling. 

His head thrashes to the side as he tries to use his arms to knock the glasses off his face. 

“Just let me see —” He starts to plead again, and you cut him off with a hand on his throat. You don’t squeeze down, at least not very hard. It’s just a warning that you could very easily stop him from speaking, if you wanted. 

In a moment of kindness, you bend forward to give him a kiss, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment as he feeds his hunger. He groans when you pull away too soon, tilting your head back to let your sounds release freely as you feel yourself reaching the end. 

Your hands dig harder into his chest, helping you thrust down harder, faster, until you feel the knot in your stomach burst. Fluttering around him as you quietly scream his name, dropping your head and biting his shoulder as you settle down from your high. 

He didn’t see any of it, but he felt every millisecond of it. And it left him aching, still hard inside you. As you climb off of him, you can see how red his cock is, leaking at the end. Desperate to cum, just like you knew he would be. 

You run a thumb across the tip, wiping the fluid leaking from it, and clean it off with your mouth. He whines again, hips pushing into thin air, unable to find any friction or relief. 

 “I know, baby, I know you wanna finish.” You hum, pushing the sweaty hair off his forehead and combing it neatly to the side. “And I almost wanna let you.” 

His mouth hangs open, a stream of begs escape. “Please — I’ll be good, I’ll be so good I promise.” 

“After today, why would I believe you?”

He doesn’t have a good answer. He’s an absolute mess, writhing against the sheets and rubbing his wrists against the restraints until they turn red. A tiny tear rolls down his face, wetting his temple and hairline, as his chest wracks with a quiet sob.  

“Are you really that needy? Gonna cry for me?” You tease. 

He nods, unashamed of how much he needs you. 

“Fine,” you grunt. It would be so easy to deprive him, walk away from the bed and leave him like this until he learns his lesson. But this is Spencer, and you’ve always known how needy he is, and it shouldn’t surprise you when he behaves this way anymore. 

Your palm hovers over him, ready to help him over the edge, when he’s already coming hard, making a mess all over himself. Now that is a surprise; you’ve seen him in all stages of neediness, but he’s never cum without contact until now. 

He whines, breathy and high pitched, and pants as he calms down. You laugh at this new layer of desperation you’ve uncovered, like it’s a new trick he’s just learned. With soft pecks on his nose, right at the bridge where his glasses rest, you smile, “Just when I thought you couldn’t get worse, you prove me wrong.”

[songbirdstyles]

i’m on fire

summary: harry can’t keep his hands to himself after getting home from filming.

warnings: breeding kink, spanking, smut, slight fluff, pregnancy mention, slight dom/sub

word count: 2.7k

song inspo.: i’m on fire - bruce springsteen, girls on film - duran duran, tango in the night - fleetwood mac

You’ve hardly glanced in Harry’s eyes as he walks into the foyer of your London apartment before you feel your back slam into the door behind you - your head thumps against the wood and a groan threatens to rip out of your throat but he steals it before you get the chance to make the noise, lips on yours and tongue stuck down your throat.

Your hands have nowhere else to go but to bury themselves in his hair, fingers curling around chocolate brown curls and tugging until you hear the soft hitch in his breath that indicates just how much your grasp affected him. And, God, it did affect him, clearly, as he pushes his hips further against yours until you can feel the thick bulge in his pelvis grinding against the softness of your inner thigh as you hike your leg up to hoist around his waist. He moves one arm from where he had been grasping your throat as if to steady him to the present and his free hand grasps the underside of your thigh, pulling it further up his abdomen until the stretch in your muscle makes you whine.

“Jesus fuck, Har -”

He shuts you up from whatever you were going to mutter as he deepens the kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as his knee grinds into your cunt until you’re crying out, goosebumps overtaking every square inch of your skin even through the thick sweatshirt adorning your upper half. You hadn’t had much of anything valuable to say, anyway, but it’s the principle of his interruption that makes you grasp for his cheeks and pull his face from yours with a heaving gasp.

“What’s gotten into you, hmm?”

You’d almost be concerned about Harry’s state if you couldn’t feel him rutting his cock against your thigh - his face is red and hot, eyes half lidded and breaths panting and desperate with each sharp inhale of oxygen. Christ, he looks a sight in the best way possible, and your instinct is to snap your thighs shut at the feeling that rushes through your body when he leans in, pressing soft lips to the sweaty skin of your throat so it muffles his response. His hands find the hem of your sweatshirt (or his sweatshirt, really) and you have half a mind to raise your arms so he can pull his lips from your neck to tug the cloth off of your torso before he finds a vein in your throat with a newfound vigor, sliding his other hand up to grope at your bare tit like a teenage boy whose only just seen one for the first time.

“Jus’ wanna love on you, hmm - wanna love on m’girl, please -”

“Hmm -”

He grunts, then. Nips at a vein in your neck that pulsates beneath his lapping tongue and you can’t help but giggle, however childlike and naive the noise sounds, but it’s enough for him to drop your thigh from around your waist - grab your cheeks and spin you around, pushing you backwards and backwards until your feet hardly feel like they’re moving, like you’re floating through the entryway of your apartment until you reach the kitchen. Though Harry loves fucking you every which way in your bed, huge and comfortable and soft, there’s something primal about pushing you against the kitchen table and ripping down your flannel sweatpants and burying himself into your heat that you know he secretly prefers over the sacred oasis of your bedroom.

Your lower back hits the edge of the island but it doesn’t stay there long before he turns you around, pushing the front of your body against the island until your body has folded in half to bend over the slab of marble, cold against your bare tits and stomach. Your boyfriend reaches around to the front of your sweatpants, then, arms wrapped around your thighs to shakily untie the knot that you had carefully tied in the strings of your pajama pants - his chest rises and falls against your back, hips still pushing into yours over and over and you jut your ass out to meet the grind of his cock against the clothed globes of your ass.

“Tied this thing fuckin’ tight, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t think you’d try to rip them off like an animal,” you retort, lifting your hips from where they’re firmly pressed to the edge of the island once Harry has successfully untied the knot, tugging your pants down the slope of your ass until they unceremoniously drop to a puddle at your feet, and you impatiently kick them off as Harry snaps the waistband of your panties just to hear you squeal. “Come on, Har - know you’re impatient -”

“Mmm.”

His finger slide beneath your panties, knuckle dragging through your slit that’s positively dripping with your slick, and you hear his low moan at how ready you are for him but the truth is you’ve been fucking dripping since he sent you a selfie of him in his makeup chair on set two days prior, hair messy and eyebrow arched, and it hadn’t even been a serious selfie but it still made your clit throb when you saw it. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks for filming when you’d gone a full year of almost never being apart and, fuck. Seeing him like that did things to you.

Harry’s yours, god fucking dammit. The thought makes you spread your thighs more for him as he dips his finger into your waiting hole, curling them up once just to watch how your back arches, how you moan as though you’d been coded to do so. It’s a game he likes to play, testing you, seeing just how needy you are for him even if all he wants to do is bury himself inside of you and fuck you until tears streak your cheeks and you’re begging him to cum.

No - no, he does want that, you know that. Wants it so bad it makes his knees weak, makes his stomach flip and turn, but he wants to watch you fall apart more than anything. Needs to know you want this just as much as he does, if not more, and if he were truly dedicated tonight he’d finger you until you came at least twice.

Neither of you can wait for that.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes, voice raspy and full of sex and wanting and you could nearly sob as you feel him finally start to tug them hem of his joggers and boxers over his cock. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

But - but -

“Wait.”

He pauses. The head of his cock pokes at your ass in a way that would be funny if the revelation you’d just been hit with hadn’t hit you yet but it has, and you turn your head to press your cheek against the marble.

“Wha’?”

“I got my birth control thing out yesterday, the one in my arm. Remember - I told you I have to get it replaced. M’getting it tomorrow.”

There’s a pause in the kitchen, then, that hangs heavy over the both of you as you hear Harry’s shaky breathing behind you. And then -

“Did you just get harder?”

Harry exhales and even without seeing him you can picture the smile on his face as he presses his hips further into yours - “M’sorry - s’hot, babe.”

“Me not being on birth control is hot?”

“Yes,” and as if for extra reassurance of just what he means, Harry pushes his cock between your thighs until it’s slotted in your slit, head nudging your clit and making your legs quiver and shake as the stimulation rolls over you, eyes rolling back and head feeling fuzzy. “Makes me wanna fuck you so bad.”

There’s a quick consideration, you suppose - of the possibility of getting pregnant and the fact that you know there’s probably not even a single condom in your apartment for him to quickly put on, and even if there was the moment would die - and, come on, you’ve been together for almost 4 years and you’ve talked about kids in passing. If it happens it happens - that’s been your philosophy on it with him.

If it happens, it happens.

And it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Harry loves kids and you love kids and more than that, you love each other like the world depends on it - could never picture yourself living life without him at this point, and more than that, there is something hot about imagining him fucking you completely raw.

“Fuck, Har,” you moan, feeling your clit spasm as you grasp the edge of the counter. “I don’t care. Fuck me, pl -”

The final word doesn’t make it out of your mouth before Harry’s slamming himself inside of you and there’s no slow or sweet - it’s raw and unfiltered, giving you half a moment to adjust to his size after two full weeks without his cock, and it’s huge, feels like it’s splitting you open, like you’re back to the first time he’d ever fucked you and you’d had the fleeting question of whether it would even fit. It did fit, though, over and over and over, and yet the first stroke always makes you gasp.

Or scream.

“Oh, shit!” your resounding moan is shrill and punctuated by your legs just about giving up, knees collapsing until the only thing holding you up is Harry’s cock slamming into your cunt over and over, his nails digging into your bare shoulder blade before scratching up to tug at your hair. Forms it into a loose ponytail to tug at your hair like a damn whip, forcing your lazed face off of the marble until you’re staring into the darkened kitchen before you with blurry, watering eyes and a cunt that already feels fucked sore from just a few thrusts.

“Oh - god,” and Harry’s voice shakes and leaks with arousal, breath picking up as he pistons into you, cock stroking spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed before him, before he had fucked you slow and sweet and made you oh so aware of every sweet spot your cunt was filled with. God, he’s good at it, at a fast unforgiving pace that makes your head spin and your throat go raw with sobs, and you slam your palm against the island with a moan. “So fuckin’ tight f’me - made for me, right?”

You don’t respond, words feeling snatched from your tongue with every stroke of his dick into your pussy, milking every drop of arousal for all that it’s worth.

“This - this fuckin’ pussy - s’mine, isn’t it?” And when his seemingly rhetorical question goes unanswered there’s a sharp slap to the bottom of your ass that makes you shout, throat aching with the noise. “Whose fuckin’ pussy -”

“Yours!” It’s a near shriek that’s fucked out of you, and there’s another slap to your ass as you babble, “yours, Harry, yours - belongs to you -”

“Sure fuckin’ does,” and then he pulls out and you want to shout, to slam your head into the island because surely there’s nothing worse than the emptiness that fills you in the worst way possible, but just as you begin to whimper Harry is gripping your thigh, grasp tight enough that you’ll surely see bruises come morning, and he hikes your leg up over the edge of the island, exposing your near-abused pussy to him fully.

The tip of his cock runs along your slit, spreading your slickness around your folds and before you can plead with him to stop teasing he pushes back in, cock drawing along your velvet walls and eliciting a raspy moan that feels nearly involuntary at this point. His grasp on your hair is released and you nearly drop your head onto the island in surprise but then he’s leaning down, clothed chest pressed to your sweaty back, and his forearms snake beneath your neck until he’s nearly caging your neck in his arms, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

His hips pound against your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowering your choked moans and yet it doesn’t quite manage to - you’re sure your downstairs neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the volume of your sobs, or perhaps they’re used to hearing you get fucked within an inch of your life just about every night. Harry going away for filming surely must have been their own vacation from being awoken every night to yours and his pathetic moans mingled together -

But their vacation is over, goddammit.

“Harry, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, voice staccato and quiet, and his lips close around the back of your neck until you can feel him suckling at the skin, desperate to watch your skin erupt in hickeys from his work. “Please don’t - don’t stop -”

“Never gonna stop, baby,” is your boyfriend’s response, nearly cruel with how nonchalant he sounds, and his pace picks up where he’s sliding in and out of you with squelching wet sounds. “Cum for me - cum f’me and m’gonna blow it, baby, blow m’fuckin’ load into your cunt -”

You whimper, making a halfhearted attempt to reach behind you and wind your arm around Harry’s neck but you can’t muster up enough strength, feeling the orgasm building in your abdomen build and build like a rubber band about to snap. It’s a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re with him, like you’re always one stolen smirk away from straddling him in front of everyone and having your way with him -

“M’gonna cum in you, baby,” Harry whispers, voice low and hot against your ear, words being shot directly into your eardrum and sending a chill up your spine that has nothing to do with the chilled temperature of the kitchen. “Gonna knock you up, right? S’what you want?”

“Yes - yes -”

“Y’want me to fill you with my cum, hmm? Get you fuckin’ pregnant? All round w’my fuckin’ kid, fill you ‘till you’re dripping -”

“Oh, God, Harry!”

“Cum on m’fucking cock. Wanna feel y’cum around me ‘fore I blow it, sweetie -” It’s all the encouragement you need, a moan mixed with a sob tearing out of your throat as you throw your head back, body nearly convulsing as your orgasm racks through you like a tsunami on shore - and it’s everything, like he’s set you aflame and left you to deal with the inferno, and not for the first time you think about how you’re fucking made for him, for this, cumming harder than you’ve ever cum in your life, the rubbr band snapping and sending waves of pleasure through you -

“Fuck!”

Your orgasm hasn’t even come close to ending when Harry’s hips slam firm against yours, pressed taut against your ass and you feel him, feel every curve and vein of his cock against your walls and your mind goes blank as he cums, warm spurts filling you every which way and it only makes it better when he moves one of his arms from beneath your neck, snaking his hand underneath your body so he can shakily rub three fingers against your clit, milking your orgasm for all that it’s worth. You clamp down on him, every sensation too much and yet not enough in the best way possible, and you swear you see nothing but stars.

There’s a beat of silence, filled only with your heaving breaths and his soft gasps for air mixing with each other in the thick, suddenly humid air of the kitchen. Harry’s chest is sweaty against your back even through his shirt, lips still pressing warm, wet kisses to the back of your neck just underneath your hairline.

“Fuck,” you breathe, soreness already settling in your throat as you swallow, somewhat regretting your vehement moans and cries and shouts but somehow not at all - “Should probably go shower.”

“Not yet.” “Not yet -?”

“Stay here for a few minutes,” your boyfriend murmurs against your damp, sweaty skin, tongue poking out to lick a thin stripe from your collarbone up to the side of your throat, lips pressing just underneath your ear. “Gotta make sure it works. Gotta make sure you’re not leaving this fuckin’ kitchen without m’fuckin’ kid inside you, baby.”

~~

TAGLIST 

@hoeeforstyles @pcterparxer @hhh33-3l @saintsmotels @ficrecrry @bunny-munchkin-luvs-music @masumiyetimziyanoldu @luxplsr @strawberryystyles @shawnxstyles @harryslilkat @harryhub @golden-hoax @repostcentral @harry-styles-l​ @mintchipstyles​ @fallinforstyles  @zhangyixingxing1​ @goldenxstyles7​ @tobefalling​ @hslotcherry​ @alwaysclassyeagle​ @galacticferns @nineteenfiftyone​ @havethetimeeofyourlifee​ @sstarkme​ @stylesfics-xx​ @thecitiesintheseas @harrypinks​ @morethanamelodyy @lovesickrry​ @prettymuchxarreaga 

[messythoughtsandscribbledplots]

Could you write one where the hero is completely broken by their abusive mentor who believes "cant break what's already broken" so trains him to be broken and all they are good for is hero stuff and the villain finds out...and hero wakes up in the villain's base, no clue how they got there and they notice the villain caring for them gently and lovingly and the hero dosnt understand why because, thanks to the mentor, pure fear and pain and being heroic is all they know/felt/endured...

The hero stumbled back to the base, almost collapsing as they passed through the entrance. They were exhausted, sore, aching, but they had made it home.

Home.

But the hero couldn't rest, not yet, despite how they longed to curl up right there on the floor and sleep off the ache in their limbs. The hero had braced theirself to return here and face their mentor empty-handed, yet still they winced at the sight of the mentor waiting for them, waiting for answers—feet planted firmly apart, shoulders back, arms crossed.

"I let them get away," the hero whispered, leaning against the wall to keep from toppling right over. They hung their head, unable to face the disappointment in that cold, unforgiving stare. "I was hurt, and cornered, and... I ran. The villain... I wasn't ready. They were going to kill me."

"You failed."

The hero whimpered—a small, choked sound—and bit their lip to hold back tears as their mentor approached, each footstep heavy and deliberate. The hero kept their gaze pinned on the floor, wishing they could hide, disappear.

"You were weak."

The hero couldn't bring theirself to speak, couldn't think of what to say. Their mentor was right—the hero was weak. They had one job, one purpose in this life, and they had failed. Again.

"Look at me." The mentor gripped the hero's chin, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise, and tilted it up until their eyes locked. Held it there long enough for the hero to read the emotions in those dark eyes—anger, disgust, disappointment—and then, faster than the hero could anticipate, the mentor's fist slammed straight into the hero's face.

The hero screamed, crumpling to the floor.

"Can't even take a punch. Pathetic," the mentor snarled. "Get up."

The hero struggled, arms shaking, to push theirself off the floor, whimpering at the pain that had the corners of their vision going black. Despite it, they obeyed as the mentor instructed them to take off their shirt, to face the wall, to brace their arms above their head.

"Please," the hero whispered. They had already been dealt so much pain today—

But their mind went blank as the first lash broke through their skin, warm blood leaking down their back. They bit their lip to keep from screaming—the mentor liked it when they kept quiet, took the punishment without a sign of weakness. They pushed the pain to the back of their mind, burying it like the mentor had taught them.

Another lash.

"Good," the mentor said, and the hero smiled, and replaced the pain with thoughts of happy things.

Your body is an object. A weapon. Weapons do not feel pain. Weapons cannot be broken.

Another lash. Again, again, again.

By the time the hero passed out from the pain, their palms were bleeding from how hard their nails had dug into the skin, their lip bleeding from how hard they had bitten down to keep from screaming.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When the hero woke, the pain had faded to a dull throbbing from their head to their toes. They kept their eyes shut, wanting to stay in bed for just a moment longer, not quite ready to face the day that awaited them—but the bed they lay in was not their own. The blankets beneath them were soft and fluffy, the mattress thick—a far cry from the scratchy sheets and cardboard-thin mattress on their small cot at home. They opened their eyes to see walls that were blue, not gray, and a large window open to let in a fresh, cool breeze. They didn't have a window at home.

The hero scanned the room and stiffened when they saw the villain, reaching immediately for a weapon that wasn't there. They had been stripped bare, their torso wrapped in bandages, wearing nothing but a clean cotton shirt and pants. Completely and utterly defenseless—and alone with the enemy.

The hero pushed theirself out of bed, ignoring the agony as wounds in their back split open, blood soaking through the bandages.

Bury the pain.

The villain was on their feet in the instant, reaching for the hero. "Stop, you're hurt. You need to rest-"

The hero flinched at the movement, backing away with their teeth gritted.

'Why are you hurting me?' the hero had sobbed when they first started training with the mentor.

'This is for your own good,' their mentor said. 'I will break you so thoroughly that you can never be broken again. You will learn to bury your pain, to not feel it, to let nobody use that weakness against you. They cannot break what is already broken.'

"Where am I?"

"My home," the villain said, gently, carefully.

"How? Why?"

"Your mentor," the villain snarled, nearly spitting out the word before regaining their calm composure, "left you sprawled on the floor like a bloody slab of meat. Unconscious, defenseless, free for the taking."

The hero swallowed down their questions, a nauseating mix of emotions swirling around inside their gut.

"I assume this was supposed to be another test," the villain sighed, after a long moment of silence. "Send you straight into the enemy's hands, already injured and hurting, see if all that training did any good. But I assume you're tired of all the training and tests. You look like you could use a vacation."

The hero stiffened. That's what this was. Another test. Another chance to prove theirself.

"Don't pretend to know anything about me or my training," the hero growled. They squared their shoulders, forcing theirself to meet the villain's eyes with determination instead of fear. "What I'm really tired of is games, so stop playing them. You can trick me and torture me all you want, but I will never tell you what you want to know and I will never surrender to you."

No pain. No fear. No weakness.

They repeated the words silently as the villain drew closer.

No pain. No fear. No weakness.

The hero flinched as the villain's arms wrapped around their body, the villain's hand reaching up to hold the hero's head against their shoulder. This wasn't like any kind of punishment the mentor had given them—it didn't even hurt.

"What are you doing?" the hero hissed, arms hanging limp at their sides.

"It's a hug, dumbass," the villain sighed. "You look like you need one."

"I—wh—I don’t—”

"I'm not playing games, and I'm not going to hurt you. I know you're in a lot of pain, and you've been forced to be strong, all alone," the villain whispered, pulling back to meet the hero's eyes.

"But I'm here for you now, and it doesn’t have to be like that anymore.”

[slashersins-abandoned]

tw : noncon

bubba sawyer x reader

The smell of death seems almost normal now . Stale air that keeps the metallic tang of blood hangs hot and musty in the basement where you sway on the meat hook . A few days ago it made you gag , now it clings to the sweat and dirt on your skin that seems to build up in layers , and you’ve come to accept it .

The sound of the metal door screeching and creaking open catches your attention . A chilling fear corses down you and makes the Texas heat a distance memory . Would you be next ? Slaughtered and cut up by the brutal butcher wearing a dead man’s face ? Somehow you muster the strength to try and escape , but with your wrist bound and caught between a hook , and your toes barely scrapping the concrete below it’s nearly impossible . The only thing you can end up doing for yourself is sway more in a mockery of how you’d been strung up .

Heavy footsteps sound the unavoidable arrival of the man you least want to see . And soon his large frame comes into view , his shadow engulfing you . He’s filthy . But then again , you both are right now . It makes you wonder if he ever knew what being clean was ? Maybe . His somewhat put together outfit - a pair of slacks , a button up shirt , a tie , and a filthy blood stained apron . It’s an odd combination , a mimicry of a some proper hillbilly gentleman . Though you refuse to look at his face . Even when he shoves a crackled bowl of water against your lips , the cool water heaven against your chapped lips .

You hate yourself for giving in , but the need for that reviving liquid on your too dry throat is too great for you to resist . And the happy noises that come from the man who seems to get closer show that it must be a good decision on your part . Maybe you’d live a little bit longer . Maybe long enough to hope .

All too soon you swallow down the last drop of the water offered , and you curse yourself for now savoring it more - who knows when your next taste of relief will come ? The thought isn’t a settling one . You try not to think about it . Instead your eyes move to the shuffling form of your captor .

He doesn’t talk . He’s never talked . Grunted , yes , something he babbled as if he were saying words , happy squeals , angry grunts . It was all so . . . confusing . Knowing what this man wanted , why he was keeping you , it was impossible . But still , you held your breath , hoping his hands wouldn’t move towards the weapon he’d brandished so easily the first time you saw him .

It’s as if he knows what you’re thinking . He moves towards the table where the heavy piece of machinery sits . All the sudden you’re too tense , too on edge , hyper vigilant as you hold your breath . Today’s the day , isn’t it ? You’d lived your last . You’ll end up cut in half and butchered just like your friends and this man will just be find and -

Seeming all too happy the hulking masked man sits down at the table . It’s only then you notice the items he’s placed alongside his chainsaw , and the sight of them do nothing to help you calm the sudden hammering of your heart . A new sharper chain , oil , and a few small tools . If you had any tears left to cry , they’d be streaming down your face and blinding your vision .

All too aware of your impending mutilation your eyes lock on his movements . Thick , fat , dirty fingers so easily working to get the old chain off . Chunks of meat and dried blood staining the worn down chain . How many bones had been sawed by those dull blades ? Would id be less painful to tie under the sharp teeth of a clean chain ? Or would it hurt the same as being torn into by the work worn saw ?

Suddenly your trembling , so focused on those fiddling fingers oiling and cleaning the now chainless saw that you don’t realize you’ve made noise . The fact the fingers have paused , bow tapping nervously doesn’t click in your mind . And when it does it causes your brow to furrow , eyes flickering to the masked man’s face - a mistake . The moment you take in the stolen face of another person you want to gag and throw up the water you’d only just had . But what’s worse is that you lock eyes with the behemoth of a man .

Dark swirling brown eyes . Ones that are too bright , too curious as he stares at you . It feels like an eternity but finally you pull your gaze away , glancing back to the weapon on the table . And those brown eyes follow your gaze . Thick fingers move back over the metal , then down lower , and lower until they’re resting against the plastic starter .

Never in your life had you felt your heart sink to your stomach so quickly . A soft “no” leaving your cracked lips . Another mistake , because the larger man wraps his fingers around the starter and starts to pull . In abstract horror you watch . One easy pull , like it was nothing to rev the motor . The heavy saw weightless in large hands and thick arms . A second one and the motor sings for a few se seconds before fluttering off . The third has your vision blinding , fear flooding your senses and making it hard to even bring air into your lungs .

The panic consumes you in such a way that the heavy steps of the large man coming closer don’t register in your ears . It’s not until you feel the metal of the saw vibrating against your thigh that you jolt back to reality , letting you a shocked sob . But pain never comes . There’s no tearing of flesh under vicious teeth . No searing hot pain as you’re torn in two . Instead just the shaky , loud hum of the motor and the chainless saw against your skin .

Confusion is an understatement . Why - What happened ? What was - An aborted attempt to shift away is made , only for the man who’s gotten closer to raise the tip of the saw up and towards -

“W - Wait ! Don -“ You try to speak , but the butcher has other ideas . The saw makes it way between your legs , rubbing over your clothed crotch .

The vibrations are so sudden and shocking that you choke on your words . In an attempt to get away your thighs all together , but it only seems to make it worse . An excited noise coming from the larger man as it moves closer and starts forcing his saw between them , forward and back forward and back . Those curious big brown eyes focused on how you squirm .

The movement makes you cry out . In panic , in shock , in some fucked up kind of forced arousal - you aren’t sure . And every reaction pulled from you only boldens the large Texan .

With a whimper you try to pull away , only to find the base of the saw pressed close to you , the vibrations so powerful that you can’t stop your body from coming undone . With a soft cry , and the steady obeisant grinding of the chainsaw against your sex , you cum .

Shame floods you , along with a strange relief . Not even the sound of the chainsaw dying and the loss of friction is enough to pull you from your sudden exhaustion . So much effort your body didn’t have pulled out of you by just a few unwanted touches . Yet you welcomed the warmth in your belly . It was something - proof that you were alive , some kind of final acceptance .

Hanging slack and panting , the larger man’s hands flutter over you . Chubby fingers smudging the dirt on your cheek with his own only for them to tentatively travel down to the mess in your shorts . The action pulls a gasp from you , and continues to make you squirm as he lets his hands explore . Cupping and rubbing , spreading the wet mess over you and making it seep further into the fabric keeping his rough padded fingers from your sensitive flesh .

It’s a relief when he pulls them away . Only for you to to go breathless when your shorts are roughly tugged down and you’re fully exposed . The air is hot , but feels freezing on your slick skin , not that you have time to think of it before there’s a leather nose shoved between your thighs . The curious babbles , happy squeals , and heavy sniffing sounds make you squirm away , but you only move against him more as he snorts softly .

A mouth soon follows the nose and a sobbed , “Please ! D -“ tears from your throat only to fall on deaf ears . A thick , too hot , too wet tongue glides over you dipping and lapping as fat lips suckle and teeth lightly scrape over your most sensitive place . He’s eating up your mess . The idea of it makes your belly do a flip - and at this point you don’t know if it’s good or bad . But it is maddening .

Those fat hands grips your thighs easily , spreading them as he continues his adventurous assault on you . The same dizzying warmth flooding you and when you twitch and leak , the pleased sounds from the man on his knees seems almost welcome .

“BUBBA ! GET UP HERE WE GOT VISITORS !”

Just as soon as it’d happened it was over . The large man - Bubba - stood towering over you , whipping the mess on his mask off his face with the back of a dirty man . Only to use the same one to pat the top of your head like one would a pet . Quicker than you’d like to have seen he puts on the fresh chain to his weapon and revs it up . The gleaming metal shining in the dull light of the basement .

As the man runs upstairs you whimper out . The sounds of screams filling your ears as you wonder just how long you had before you ended up on the table .

[angelamajiki]

(I'm from LATAM, sorry 4 my bad english).

Hi<3 I started reading some of yours writings about Yandere Tamaki and I fall in love with them.

They way u describe his emotions and "ours" emotions trough the history is so amazing aaaaa <33

I really like the concept of Y!Tamaki, but i never see it including a "mommy kink" kdjfksjflsje 😔👊 so i was wondering if u can do something with those ideas <33

Thanks in advance aaa<3

[ good boy - amajiki tamaki ]

CW: hybrids, sub/dom dynamics, aftercare, a/b/o dynamics, mommy kink, slapping, cunnilingus, mating press, breeding kink, mentions of murder and blood, omega tamaki, alpha reader, afab reader, yandere

AN: thank you so much!!! as always, enjoy the fic and mind the tags :) i combined a few other asks for this

Being a bunny hybrid had its perks. For one, an innocent face with floppy ears and a perky cotton tail kept him out of a hell of a lot of trouble. No high was better than the adrenaline rush of killing a rival for Tamaki. Protecting your honor, protecting your safety, protecting the love you had for him. Like your knight in shining armor, he came slinking back to you after the kill, tail twitching with anticipation for his return to you.

Watching you rest peacefully in his nest made his heart leap from his chest. Ah, but he had to clean himself before he could curl up with you. His precious kit, how he loved to be a good boy for you. After his shower, Tamaki dashed into the nest with you, pressing kisses to your face gently to wake you up.

His pre-heat had come not only a few days ago, causing his spike in aggression towards others and forcing him to lash out on the poor soul that dared to flirt with his Alpha on their date. Your nose sniffed out his scent, awakening you, feeling your hybrid thump his leg in the nest.

“Oh, is my pretty little bunny finally in heat?” you mused, stroking the sweet spot on the back of his neck teasingly. “Does someone need mommy to take care of them?”

Nodding earnestly, Tamaki stripped himself of his clothes, already feeling the sweltering heat burning his core from within. His little cocklet twitched impatiently, standing tall against his toned stomach.

Crooning softly, you took him in your hand and began to stroke, relishing in the way he whimpered ‘mommy’ so beautifully for you.

“Such a good boy, Maki.” you praised, gasping gently as he took a nipple into his mouth, whining as he sucked fervently. “Mommy’s good boy.”

You intended to make him cum at least once before letting him breed you. The poor horny thing had so much stamina to give. And you wanted him to use it all out on yourself. Continuing to stroke his cock, you rubbed his nipples roughly, pinching and tugging at the pinky flesh. Bucking his hips into your hand, Tamaki switched nipples and leaned into your touch, feeling himself coming undone in just a few short minutes.

“Oh? Does my little boy want to cum? You'll have to ask nicely, bunny.”

Gasping and writhing under your steady pace, Tamaki clung to your wrist with both his hands.

“Please, mommy, can I come? I’ve been good, I've been good, please. Please!” the hybrid cried out, not being able to hold back much longer.

Shushing him gently, you picked up your pace and rubbed your thumb over his tip gently.

“Of course, you've been a good slut today. Go ahead and come. Give me what's mine.”

Leaning down, you took all of him into your mouth as he came with a scream, gripping your hair in bunched fists. You rode out his orgasm, swallowing every last drop of his seed.

“Did you enjoy that, sweet pea?”

Panting and heaving, Tamaki nodded while shaking from the afterglow of his high.

“C’mon now, show mommy some love too. You'll need to prep me if you want to breed me, bunny.”

Nimble fingers gripped your thighs with a renewed vitality, practically ripping them apart as he dove his face straight to your dripping hole. Yours found their way into his hair as you pulled his face back and slapped it.

“Where are your manners, boy?” you chided, rubbing his now reddened cheek soothingly. “Don't make me punish you. Be gentle with mommy. I’m not your toy; you are my bitch. Understand?”

Apologizes flooded from his lips in the forms of whines as he nuzzled the hand, stroking his face. Reminding of what a good boy he was, you spread your legs for him and guided his head to your sopping cunt.

“Thank you for the meal, mommy.” he gasped out, driving his nose to your clit and tongue to your hole. Hands tangled in his hair while you pushed your hips into his face, relishing in the muffled whines. What a desperate boy he was. His technique was fast and sloppy, like he was afraid his snack would be snatched from him at any moment.

Praises and moans of his name flowed from your lips as you tugged on his soft locks, admiring the way Tamaki took suffocation by your pussy like a champ.

“That’s enough, Maki, ” you sighed, pulling his head away from your twitching lips. His desperate whines, albeit adorable, made you impatient. “Stop pouting. You'll be able to have another taste later.”

Positioning yourself, you got face down and ass up, presenting yourself to your near-feral omega.

“Mount me, bunny. Make sure to breed mommy well and give her a nice litter.”

Not having to be told twice, Tamaki quickly sheathed himself inside you, bottoming out in one stroke. Hips pistoned out of you at a fast pace as you gripped the nesting blankets for purchase. Gasping and crying out, your bunny let you know no relief as he began to rub small, right circles on your clit.

You wanted to chastise him for being too rough; mommy was supposed to be in charge! The pleasure was too intense, too much for you to handle as you were reduced to a puddle under your mate’s ministrations. Ah well. You could spank him later for his overzealousness.

Whining and sobbing, Tamaki kept a tight grip on your hips while slamming into you, letting his heat take over all else. Tears streamed down his face as he cried out for you, mind filled with nothing except breed, breed, breed. He needed to see you pregnant, swollen, and fat with his kits so that no one dared to believe you were anyone but his. He couldn't wait to fill his nest with your young, keeping you all safe and sound.

Mouth hanging open, Tamaki became nonverbal as he flipped you onto your back, pressing you into a mating press as he finished himself off with a few more strokes. He finished deep inside you, interlacing your hands while the other one continued to knead your clit until you came on his emptied cock.

Sitting in the stillness and the silence for just a moment, the man rested his forehead against yours, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out. Keeping your cunt upwards, Tamaki sucked your clit gently while fingering the leaking cum back into your now loose hole.

He continued his sucking and fingering until you came again.

“Come, sweetheart, let me cockwarm you while you rest. We’ve got a long week ahead of us.” you cooed, bringing your sweet boy into your arms as you crooned, stroking his hair and ears as he entered you again, plugging his cum deep within your womb.

Praises and sweet nothings filled his ears as he drifted off to sleep, savoring the aftercare you lavished him in. He really was your good boy, after all.

[bakugosbratx]

Hi hi! Congratulations!! 🎊

Could I please request a fic with Eren or Levi and could they have some yandere tendencies? Like they’re too protective, gets jealous easily, would absolutely fuck you until you’re screaming so that the guy who’s been checking you out heard?

NSFW 18+ Let them hear you — Yandere Eren Jeager x Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Sexual content, bdsm, degrading, unprotected sex, oral, non-con, abuse, possessive, toxic relationship, gaslighting, Jean abuse, punishment, violence, etc.

Words: 1.9k

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hey love. Thank you so much for the request! I hope it meets what you are looking for. I am only on the third season so I apologize in advance for anything that seems uncanny. Enjoy.

P.S. I am still on break but I am trying to complete some request that have been sitting in my drafts. I miss y’all and will be back before y’all know it. Thank you for all the love and sweet messages.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

You did nothing wrong. You were eating your lunch with Mikasa when Jean strolled on over. It is not a secret that Jean likes you. Everyone knows that Jean likes anyone with a pulse. You have told the man multiple times that you are not interested — along with Eren — and you have a boyfriend, but it does not stop the man from trying. Especially when Eren is busy.

“Hello Y/N.” Jean greeted with a flirty smile. Your eyes couldn’t help but roll.

“Hello Jean.” You sigh as he sat across you two.

“What’s with the sad face, pretty thing? Eren got you down?” Jean chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

You scoffed. “Me and Eren are doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“Well, your face says otherwise. If you ask me, I’d say you can do better than that douchebag anyways—“ Jean’s spill got interrupted with a hard punch to the side of the head then another one to the nose. Gasp filled the room as eyes landed on who did this to the man. No one was surprised to see it was Eren himself.

Eren grabs Jean by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up to meet his height. Eren’s natural blue eyes were filled with rage. “You son of a bitch. Why the fuck are you flirting with my girl, Jean? She told you more than once she’s not interested.”

Jean manages to release himself from Eren’s grip, stumbling to keep his balance. This is not the first time these two have had altercations with one another.

“Ha, you don’t see the way she looks at me. Besides,” he pauses to wipe the blood leaking from his nose, “she was totally flirting with me.”

“Bastard!” Eren bellows as he goes to attack again, but the higher ups stop him along with you and Mikasa.

“Eren, stop.” Mikasa and you demand, hanging onto his arms.

“Let go of me! I’m going to make that son of a bitch pay.”

“That’s enough, Jaeger.” Captain Levi scolds. Eren snaps out of his rage to meet the small man’s eyes. “In my office. Now.”

Though Eren is still angry, he still knows when to show respect. Especially when it comes to the higher ups. Everyone in the room knew this.

“Yes, sir.” Eren sighs, still breathing heavy.

“Eren,” You began with sorrow filled irises. Though this is in no way shape or form your fault, you cannot help but feel the guilt within your bones. If only you would have done more than maybe Eren would not be in this situation.

Eren just glared down at your small frame compared to his, clearly not happy with you. It was a look you know all too well and you know you will be in for it later. Your heart pounded against your ribs at the thought.

“We’ll talk later.” Eren hissed before following Captain Levi to his office.

Jean did not mess with you for the rest of the afternoon. Eren was sent to clean up the horse stables while the rest of the team did their chores. Eren made sure to have his eyes on you anytime you were in close proximity. His glare was one you always refused to meet with your own two eyes. It made you feel small. Just like how Eren wanted.

Your anxiety has been through the roof all day. No one can blame you, though. Eren is a loose cannon on a good day. So, your super barely being touched was noticed, but not discussed amongst your peers.

Strong hands touched your shoulders. You jumped out of reflex. Looking up, you see your boyfriend looking down at you.

“Eren!” You exclaimed with joy and fear. He noticed both emotions.

“Follow me.” Eren orders, patting your shoulder more rough than he should have. You did not even have time to comply as his hand snakes around your bicep and pulls you along.

“Eren, you’re hurting me.” You whine as he pulls you towards the closest bedroom available.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

Slamming the door open, he ushers you along inside and swiftly closed the door behind him. Your hand wraps around your now warm, pulsating arm. You can feel the heat from Eren’s glare down onto you. You start to tremble.

“Eren, I—“

“I said shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren growls. He has taught you more than once to respect his orders, but you just cannot seem to listen. You will pay for that sooner than later.

Eren leans against the door, arms crossed as he heavily sighs. “What were you doing with Jean earlier today?” He finally asked. You turned to face him.

“N-Nothing!” You stammered. You know this made you sound guilty, but you are actually innocent. Just Eren knows how to intimidate you and when you’re in this position, your nerves take over.

Eren scornfully chuckled. “Please, do you really think I’m that dumb, Y/N?”

“I’m telling the truth, Eren! You know I don’t like Jean.” You spat. Your blood is boiling at this point. This accusation has been thrown at you more than once in your relationship and quite honestly, it’s getting tiring.

“Watch it.” Eren warned. You know you are not supposed to raise your voice towards him. He has corrected that behavior more than once and will do it again if necessary.

“Why was he sitting with you at lunch?” Eren interrogates after he notices you lose some confidence to yell at him.

You let out a deep sigh. “He just showed up. You know how Jean is.”

“And you didn’t stop him?”

“What was I supposed to do?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Tell him to fuck off!” Eren barks.

“And I did!” You argued back.

A small shriek escapes your lips as Eren charges towards you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pushing you down onto the nearest bunk bed. You struggled to untangle his fingers as they squeeze your throat tightly.

“What did I say about talking back, slut?” Eren growls.

“I-I’m s-sorry, E-Eren.” You managed to get out as you lose circulation to your lungs.

“Oh, you will be. I’m going to make sure this filthy little mouth of yours will not be able to talk for weeks.”

Eren finally let’s go of your throat. You immediately cough. There is not enough oxygen in the room to get to your lungs fast enough it seems. Eren would argue and say you deserve it.

You hear a belt unbuckle along with his pants unzipping. His pants hang low on his hips as he watches you collect air. By the way his boxers are fitting quite snug, you know what is coming.

“On your knees.” Eren demands, pointing towards the creaky wooden floor below. You shook your head no, your eyes pleading. Eren did not respond to that well as he grabbed a hand full of hair and forced you to the ground.

“Do you ever fucking listen? I said on your damn knees.” Eren growls. You did not even have a chance to explain that you are not in the mood because Eren’s length is now being stuffed down your throat. You choked on Eren’s cock as every inch was entering your mouth.

Your nails clawed at Eren’s clothed abdomen. His hand never let up on your hair as he thrust in-and-out of you. You are choking, coughing for air, but Eren refused to show any ounce of mercy. In fact, he found it quite amusing. You should know better than to disrespect your boyfriend.

“Where is all that back talk now, princess? Don’t have shit to say with my cock down your disrespectful ass throat, do ya?” Eren mocks as takes another rapid thrust down your windpipe. Drool covered your chin and Eren’s dick. You can feel his girth stretch out your throat and he loves it. He loves seeing you struggle.

Pre-cum started to leak from his erected member. You are mentally thanking your maker. You needed a break and a gasp for air, but those prayers were answered quicker than expected. Eren pulls out his cock from your sore mouth. You let out pitiful coughs as he stroked himself to the sight of you.

“Strip then get in doggy.” He demands. Not wanting to make this worse for yourself, you do as your told. You are not even sure whose room this is. You just hope they do not walk into see the sinful things you and Eren are doing.

Each article of clothing fall to the floor and you get in the position Eren wants you in. All of your delicate tight holes are displayed for his taking. He walks over and spreads your ass out some more to get a better view. You yelp when a hard slap hits your ass.

Without warning, he brings you closer to him by latching his hands onto your hips and his cock slips into your tight cunt. Your walls do their best to expand to his girth, but no amount of sex with Eren can get you prepared for that. Your pussy takes in inch-by-inch. His stamina and merciless rhythm is forcing you to be accepting of his cock. Your knees shake under the pressure and your hands tightly grip onto the covers below.

A hard slap to your ass exploits the moan you have his behind your lips. “I kept your throat intact for a reason. Use it.” Eren scolds before hitting your ass again. You whimper.

“Eren.” You mewl.

“Yeah, who is making you feel this good?” He teases as he continues his venomous thrust.

“You do.” You sob. Your pussy is beginning to become accustomed to Eren’s erection and he is hitting all the right spots. He always does.

“Can Jean make you feel this good?” He groans, his knees slowly buckling beneath him.

“Never.” You wail. Your weeping cunt confirmed this as well.

“Damn,” he pants, “straight.”

Cum leaked from Eren’s cock deep into your cunt. You let out little moans as you became stuffed with Eren’s seed. Though you did not like he was not using protection, you have no say in the matter. This is for his pleasure and your punishment. You just have to take it like the good little submissive girl he taught you to be.

You milked every single drop of Eren before you were granted permission to put on clothes. Your hands intertwined as he lead you to the door. There stood Jean, Armin, and Conny. They all looked horrified as well as you. Eren’s smug smirk never left his features.

“What the hell are you doing in my room, Eren?” Jean exclaims in furry.

“Handling business,” he wraps his arm around Jean’s shoulder and let’s go of your hand to pat his chest, “By the way, thanks for letting me fuck my girlfriend on your bed.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[nojey]

reminiscing (fans 2)

dreamwastaken x streamer!reader

genre: angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): failed relationship, cursing

fans (part 1)

synopsis: after taking 6 months off from social media, you finally explain to your fans why you took so long and why you needed it.

go live. *click*

you watched as your chat strolled in and viewer count go up. your computer screen illuminating your face in the dark room as your webcam caught the nervous look. you were shaking your leg up and down, a habit you caught whenever you tried to calm yourself down. 

“hi everyone, it’s been a while since my last stream, huh?” you dryly chuckled. “it’s been about.. 6 months since i last streamed and at this point i think i’ve taken enough time to correctly word how i’m going to tell everyone why i decided to take a break from streaming.” you said looking down at the ground and fiddling with your fingers.

“uh, donation notifications will be off for this stream and chat will be on emotes only because i really just want to focus on getting this out. but if you plan on donating, thank you so much, really, it means the world to me.” you said finally looking at your webcam and smiling a bit. you read a chat and answer, “yes, i’m doing okay. i just have a big announcement i want to say after i tell you guys why i took a break.”

you took a deep breath in and started. “ over a year ago, almost 2, i met this guy through a friend and we started talking. it was very little at the beginning but as little as it was, his texts always made me smile.” you scratched the back of your neck. “and as time went on, we started talking more and more and he just became part of my daily routine. when i woke up i’d see a good morning text from him, we’d spend most of our day being on the phone with each other, i was even on facetime with him most of my streams but i had an airpod under my headset so you couldn’t really see it, i almost always fell asleep on facetime with him. i really fell for this guy.” you fondly smiled, looking at your desk, where your phone used to be propped up and you would see clays face just looking at you.

“then we started streaming together. ‘omg he’s a streamer too’ yeah, and a lot of you probably know who i’m talking about at this point but i still won’t disclose who it is. i uh, got a lot of messages from you guys telling me that i looked super happy that stream and i was. i was always happy when i talked to him. but along with those messages i also got a lot of hate, telling me to stay away from him. it didn’t really bother me because i always get hate when i stream with my guy friends; i was used to it.” you said, taking a sip from your water then wiping the side of your eye as it teared up. 

“and today... i’ll be going on the dream smp! with the man himself, dream. dream, say hi now.” you introduced, you waited a few seconds but was only met with silence. you grabbed your phone and sent him a voice message, “clay! you’re on deafen! introduce yourself!” you screamed into your phone. dream then took himself off deafen and said. “hi (y/s/n)’s chat! i’m dream, i’ll be showing (y/n) around the smp today and we’re gonna get started on their house.” you smiled fondly when you heard him speak. “yeah! what dream said!” 

so you both logged into the dream smp, said hi to sapnap, and dream gave you a tour. you then started building your house in a forest, quite far from everyone else, “i don’t want anyone bothering you or ruining your house when you’re not on.” he explained. you told dream you wanted to build a cottage so if anyone does end up stumbling upon it, it looks welcoming to them. so dream started building your house for you even though you insisted you do it together. “dream! let me help, this is supposed to be my house.” you dragged. “well we can both decorate inside and make it our house.” you started blushing. “i guess..” you mumbled. you then started adventuring out to look for flowers and some things to decorate the house with.

you started placing flowers down into flower pots when you noticed something. “dream there’s only one bedroom.” you mentioned. he slowly turned around to look at you and quickly turned back and placed two beds next to each other. “this is our room, dumbass.”

later that night you checked your twitter dms and saw many people telling you to stop talking to dream and that you weren’t good enough to even know him. you sighed and powered down your phone.

“i think a few weeks after that he asked me if i could fly out to him and we’d meet in person. i was so excited i immediately started packing and i met him. it was amazing! i got to meet the guy i’ve been in love with for the past few months. i think it may have been a year already. but yeah, i finally got to meet him and being in his arms was the best feeling in the world, i felt so safe being with him.”

“it was the day after that, when he asked me on a date and i, of course, said yes. like who would say no to the person they fell in love with... so we went on a date and at the end of it we were just sitting on top of the hood of the car, eating dinner, watching the sunset and talking about a future we wanted together. and it may seem like we were moving fast but i knew 7 months into talking to him that he felt the same way about me. no matter if either of us disclosed it. i could tell and i knew he knew the same about me. then i went home and everything was perfect, i wasn’t his girlfriend yet though because we wanted to wait a bit.”

“that’s when everything went downhill, i think” you looked up to try to stop the tears from going down your face, but they fell anyways so you just let it be.

“we started streaming more and more and i started getting more hate than i usually got, this time getting death threats, people threatening to leak my address if i didn’t stop being friends with him. it was crazy but i was willing to endure it all for him. who cares what people on the internet are going to say to me? i really didn’t because i was happy enough with him that, that happiness overcame whatever type of hate i was getting.” tears kept falling from your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe it, knowing it would just keep happening.

“dude you’re so annoying! you definitely cheated!” you screamed as you died. through your headset you could hear clay wheezing. “there was no way i was cheating!” he said through his laughs. “ask my chat, they saw the whole thing.” you breathed out, not wanting to believe him till a dono was sent to you, “yeah, (y/n) you just suck at this game,” you gasped, your jaw hanging then you started pouting. it was clipped and one of your viewers sent it to dream. he suddenly started laughing harder and you asked him why he was laughing, with a pout still on your face. “even your chat knows i didn’t cheat!” you started laughing too, till you read a message in the chat saying, “ew, their laugh is ugly. i don’t know why dream likes them.” you stopped laughing but kept a fake smile on your face.

“then he called me and he told me that he didn’t think we should be dating anymore, or even be friends. and i think it was because he saw the hate i was getting and he didn’t like that. he told me a different reason as to why he didn’t think we should date anymore but i didn’t believe it, but i let him go. because i was not going to force him to be with me if he really did mean it. “ you said, sniffling after so you didn’t sound too congested as you spoke.

after you hung up, you curled into a ball and cried. you cried, and cried, and cried. the feeling in your chest hurting more than you could ever imagine. you just lost the guy you wanted to marry, the guy you had spent over a year going to because of your problems, the guys you saw having kids with, the guy that made everything worth it. he was the only person on your mind as the pain in your chest grew. you tweeted and powered your phone off straight after. you didn’t want anyone messaging you asking what was wrong, knowing your friends they would do that. 

“so the reason i took a break from streaming was because of that. because i resented the people that sent me hate so much i couldn’t bring myself to stream. i didn’t resent them because they sent me hate. i resent them because the hate they sent me caused the guy i really wanted to be with to make me believe he didn’t love me like i love him.” now, you were sobbing, letting your cry’s out because you had been holding them in for too long. 

it had been a few months and you were on snapchat, seeing that you had a memory a year ago today, you checked it. “i think i literally met my soulmate.” with a picture of you and clay in a discord call. your breath got caught in your throat and your breathing became labored. your eyes started stinging as the tears started falling. it’s happening again, all the pain from the day you stopped talking to him came back and once again, you were crying into your hands and you couldn’t stop.

“i had always known that becoming a streamer i would get hate, but i never thought that i would get enough hate to prevent a relationship i really wanted to work. now all i do is reminisce of a guy i wish could be mine”

“streaming has brought me so many opportunities and i am so grateful for everything you guys have done for me, and for me to be able to do something i love and make money from it is insane to me. you guys have given me everything i ever wanted in life up until that point and i am so grateful and appreciative of that. you guys gave me friendships that i will never lose and never forget. so many of you have told me that i’ve saved you and changed your lives but trust me when i say you guys have saved me and changed my life too. i hope i repaid you back by making you smile, being your comfort streamer, and being a support system for each of you. but i think this is my end of the road. i fucking love streaming, i love you guys. but every time i click that “go live” button or even try to, all i think about is him and that’s too painful for me right now. maybe in the future i’ll find my way back here but i can’t promise that.”

“thank you guys, so, so, so, so, much for every single opportunity given to me, for everything. i love you all. my dms are still open. and this was (y/s/n), signing off for possibly the last time. goodbye everyone.”

end stream. *click*

a tear rolling down his face and falling onto his keyboard as he watched you finally say goodbye to your stream. it all just felt like you were saying your last goodbye to him again. 

for the last 6 months all clay could do was think about you and how he wished he just messaged you and told you he was sorry and didn’t mean what he said. that he misses you and he would quit streaming if that meant he could be with you. that all he wanted was to feel you in his arms again and just live out the future you two planned together. 

but if you just said goodbye to your chat for your last stream because you couldn’t stand the thought of him whenever you tried to stream. how could you ever forgive him?

the thought of never speaking to you hit him once more and again, he cried, sobbed, screamed, threw things, and even then, he knew.. you would never be coming back to him, with every fiber in his being, wishing you would.

—————

taglist: @loxbbg @bozowrites @noahsfag @sparklykeylime @bi-narystars @axths @cheybaee @letsloveimagines @meatte @julesamen21 @classyunknownlover @bad268 @strawbrinkofdeath

[milkie-chan]

Old Dog, New Trick

hybrid!toji x fem reader

content: dubious consent, size kink, biting kink, spit kink, lots and lots of slobber, knotting, slight breeding kink, oral (fem receiving), spit spit spit, not proofread at all

nasty old man toji and his cute new human.

Adopting an older hybrid always seemed like the better option. Puppies always seemed to go fast, but they were too high energy. Too destructive. But you were so lonely and your neighborhood wasn’t the safest. A friend told you about a rescue needing a home. Saying he was older, lethargic, but scary looking so no one would take him permanently. It didn’t take much convincing for you to bring Toji into your life, but never were you more unsure about something.

He wasn’t just a big dog, he was huge. He easily doubled you in size alone, his broad shoulders filling up every door frame in the house. He had bad manners, too. It was obvious he had never been properly house trained, and he was too big now to boss around. Yet, he never scared you. Sure he growled here and there, but he was always so docile, always so gentle with his touch.

Maybe it was because he was older that you hadn’t put thought into it. Maybe it was just the excitement of getting a hybrid. Of finally having someone in the house with you. It had only been three months, and he was slowly going into a rut. It was obvious, his pressing body heat and the feverish hold he took of your body whenever he was near. When you tried to push him away, to keep his mouth away from your nose and shoulders as he nosed into your skin, drooled all over your shirt, he would growl and pull you closer.

You had somehow always convinced him to let you go, that is, until tonight. You had gotten home from work an hour earlier, and he was pouring for leaving him alone all day. Stretched lazily across the bed (that he was allowed on!) turned on his side away from you. Even when you greeted him he barely twitched an ear, remaining stuff and turned away. You sighed and entered the bathroom to take a cold shower, wanting to wash the day and the heat off.

“Toji I wanna go to bed.” You poked at his back, but he didn’t budge, “Okay. Fine. But just for tonight.” As you sat on the edge of your bed, phone in hand to catch up with your socials, Toji had rolled over to face you. When you paid him no mind he crept closer, sliding his hand around your front and up the shirt you were wearing. Your breath stilled and you lowered your phone, “Toji...”

“Yer cold...” he grumbled, rising behind you to place kisses along the bit of shoulder he had access too, “Lemme warm you up.”

“I don’t—“ your breath hitched as his large hand climbed higher, brushing his rough pads against the underside of your breasts. His kisses became more openmouthed as he pulled you back against his chest, prominent erection flush against your ass as he began to lave at your neck with his tongue. He alternated between nibbles and licks, fingers tweeting at your nipples causing you to whine and arch your body into his, ���Toji.” His hands worked at your shirt, pulling it off your body to quickly discard it across the room.

He shuffled to push you down flat on your back, sinking down to the floor to sit between your knees. He quickly worked your panties off, dragging his tongue up your thigh. He grew nearer to your sex, hot puffs of air causing you to whimper and press closer. He needed little more encouragement, dragging his tongue generously along your slit. He attached his lips to your clit to suck, fingers digging into your thighs as he continued an unorthodox pattern of running his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit. While it wasn’t the most skilled, more sloppy and eager than most that you had experienced, there was some knowledge underlying his actions and it was enough to have your fingers curling into his hair to pull him closer.

“G..good boy. Good boy.” He moaned as you tugged his hair, tail thumping on the ground as he slowly pulled back, a thick string of saliva connecting him to your cunt. His tongue was hanging from his mouth as he panted, hand reaching down to fist his cock out of his pants.

“Be good f’r you. Gonna be...” He placed his knees between yours, lifting your legs into his arms to start and push them back against your chest, “Y’r good boy.” A groan left both of your lips as he slowly pushed the leaking head of his cock into your cunt. Drool leaked from his plush lips, splattering your chest and throat as he thrusted forwards. The stretch wasn’t easy, but it hurt so deliciously as his hips fit against yours.

“Toji, Toji,” You were babbling, walls squeezing around him already. Needing to milk him, “Mhh, please, please.” He licked his lips, leaning down to capture yours in a sloppy kiss as he began to move his hips. The thrusts were sudden, jarring, having your mouth fall open under his in quiet gasps and moans of his name.

A hand fisted in his hair, the other in the back of his shirt, holding on to anything you could grasp as he folded you into a mating press. His heavy balls slapped against the your ass as he picked up the pace, becoming more frantic to chase his release. His lips smeared across your cheek, dragging spit with it as he followed a line back to your neck. There he bit down hard, causing you to cry out and lurch into his body. Your own hips moved in tandem with his, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. It was enough to have you sobbing, praising him as you unraveled under his touch.

“G,gonna fill you up with pups. Fill y’r lil pussy up with all my pups and make y’ my lil breeding whore.” His thumb caught the inside of your cheek, tilting your head back, “G’nna breed y’ so y’ never leave me.” He bared his fangs before spitting in your mouth, watching your tongue flatten under the spit, keeping it in your mouth for only a second before you swallowed. He groaned, leaning back down to recapture your lips as he lifted your body closer to his.

Cock swelling in your cunt, the knot tying in your gut came undone. You screamed into his mouth as he fucked you through it, his own release following only a few thrusts after. It was so much, easily filling up your pussy. You were sure if he wasn’t knotted inside of you it would be leaking out all over the bed, a mess between your bodies.

Toji panted, propping his elbows on either side of your head as he quivered, “Fuck. Still so fucking tight.” He rolled his hips again, sending shockwaves up your overstimulated body.

“Wanna make sure you’re full. Gonna fill you up more.”

“Toji I have work tomorrow—“

“Gonna have to call in sick.” He drug his tongue up your cheek, “Gonna make sure y’can’t walk tomorrow.”