#his scar stretches so pretty over the base of your cock

[heian-era-housewife]

Just slutty Toji thoughts...

18+ • mdni • mdni • mdni • mdni • 18+

Thinking about Toji sucking your strap (or your cock) making the *sluttiest* noises as he chokes you back. The man has no gag reflex, so he gets on his knees and goes to town, not an ounce of shame or insecurity as he dutifully nuzzles his nose into your soft tufts. A fistful of ass in each of his hands as he pulls you in closer. Stringy trails of precum leaking from his fat tip while he sucks the soul right out of you.

pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

[shotmrmiller]

size difference where the one afraid to fuck you is simon. he thinks you soft. which is what you are. soft. fragile. small.

you're not like him. nothing like the guys. battle-scarred. muscles carved by relentless missions, scars that speak of duty.

your skin divots under his fingers, yielding to his weathered touch and if he squeezes hard enough, you'll have marks by morning. (he needs to be careful, he can't hurt you, won't—)

and so simon watches you touch yourself in the beginning, clever fingers swirling over your slippery clit with practiced movements even though his cock is straining against his trousers painfully. he can hear you mewl his name through bitten lips and it takes all of his self control to not tug his jeans off, slot himself between your spread, inviting thighs and push— stretch open your fluttering walls, so hot and slick, until he meets resistance, until he can push no more but—

he can't. you'd hurt. and he'd hurt because he hurt you. he won't.

after, when your eyes are heavy lidded, mouth slightly parted in exertion, you remind him that you aren't made of glass. that you won't break. you'll shatter— in the way you do when his tongue replaces your fingers— but not break.

"not a virgin either, for christ's sake," you groan.

maybe he's thinking too hard about it. he knows your teeth have edges, knows your bite is swift when deserved. but all he's truly good at is making things give. biology made it so with his bulky frame and raw mass.

his eyes trace the contour of your collarbone. delicate. then it darts to the pulse on your wrist. vital. his hands, the size of dinner plates don't coax. they demand. he'd snap you like a twig, leaving nothing but splintered remains in his wake.

you don't seem to mind, however. it slightly alarms him. where's your self-preservation? do you enjoy pain? is this some masochistic thing?

he looks at you, all glassy eyed and dewy skinned (ethereal; you're practically glowing under the soft light of the full moon that paints the room silver) and he thinks of how it's going to take work to make it work. his cock is large (he's seen the guys' eyes pop out of their heads in the showers once they caught a glimpse of what's between his legs) but you're persistent in the end. one too many nights of having him without having him.

he understands. simon knows better than most what it's like to yearn. to want and not have. he'd cause you pain by not giving in, and cause pain by giving in. damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

so he caves. promises to go slow. careful.

"i can take it," you bravely say but he's barely pressing himself to your entrance and you're already making noises that tug at his pathetic little heart. the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip-- you look so pretty, how'd a twisted creature like him get someone like you to come home to-- as his cock fills you has him feeling lightheaded. it takes every ounce of self control to not sink into your heat, to hook your legs around his thick waist and let gravity do the rest.

an unsteady hand weaves its way down to your stuffed cunt, fingers splitting into a vee, feeling how he splits your puffy lips, and the view makes him buck his hips involuntarily.

his hands tighten around your calves when you keen, a high pitched noise that swells the lust he feels burning white hot at the base of his spine, tips of his fingers, deep within his loins. he feels ready to burst.

and he's only halfway in.

your voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. "m-more, simon, c'mon," the n is low and drawn out.

his fingers bite into your flesh as he pushes slow, oh so slowly, until your vise-like cunt envelops him completely. the sibilant hiss you let out makes his hair stand on end. (shame pricks at his nerves like a thousand tiny needles when his cock twitches at the sound of your slightly pained moans)

simon doesn't move, feeling your swollen walls around his cock ripple, tighten and slacken, like it's got a pulse of its own. he could be here, in you, cock deep in paradise for the rest of time.

"fuck me," you warble out, hand rubbing your swollen clit to well up the pleasure that's being smothered by the searing pang of discomfort.

when simon cants his hips back, he watches his cock come out of you, glistening with slick. his jaw aches from how hard he's clenching it. control. got to keep it slow, gentle. slow, simon, slow, slow--

"harder."

he feels the sudden sharp sting of your nails and jerks forward in surprise, filling you completely in one fast movement.

your moan this time is needy, thick with want, arousal dripping from your voice as it does your pussy, coating him in creamy white, a frothy ring at the root.

simon can see the barest of bumps below your navel, or maybe he's seeing things, your hot cunt putting him in a state of delirium but the way you take all of his cock and continue to beg for more, beg him to fuck you like he means it even though he's twice if not thrice your size well...

you'll just have to forgive him on the finger-shaped bruises they're going to be on your body after.

(you'd looked so cheeky before he flipped you onto your knees, grabbing onto your delicate neck like a lifeline as he pulled your hips to meet his. you'd taken him easier here, cunt sodden with slick but the angle had him reaching a devastating depth no one else could ever dream of reaching and even though it'd sprung tears to the corners of your eyes at the pinch, "mama ain't raise no bitch.")

[porcalinecunt]

Question, what if there was Von & Wrio riding fem reader? Sandwichinh her as they use both her holes roughly?👀

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ if you were squished n stuffed by giant canine men ~ <3

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐎𝐍 & 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — mean dom! wriothesley. soft dom! von lycaon. double penetration. size kink. breeding. anal sex. mentions of knot. implied polyamory(?)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : this was messily written since my last draft wasn’t saved ;-; so apologies if this ended up half baked nonie [frustrated noises]

you couldn’t get a breath in, not with two horny mutts pumping themselves in and out of your poor holes.

it was supposed to be plain, simple sex just to relieve von lycaon’s stresses. after all, being the strong-head of victoria’s housekeeping always takes a toll on him. whether taking on ethereals or watching over the young, impressionable maids. settling him down and doing all the work in pleasing him.

of course, your other lover couldn’t help himself. rudely interrupting the both of you while lycaon was balls deep inside you, undressing with a raging hard on. “what? can’t let you two have all the fun..” he chuckled.

now here you are, pressed between the two canines as they ravaged your pussy and ass at an animalistic pace.

“ah! s-slow down! plea..ahh..!”

you mewled, pleading falling on deaf ears as wriothesley gripped the back of your knees with lycaon squeezing the life out of your marked up thighs. your poor cunt, exposed and stuffed full by the duke’s ridiculous girth while the furry thiren anal fucked you.

“don’t tap out now, princess. not when you’ve been so so good to us..”

wriothesley groaned with a lustful grin, a fang could be seen peering through his lips. his pace was unforgiving, stretching your pussy out to it’s limit. you weakly lift your head up, watching the lewd scene play out in front of you. a creamy white ring already sat at the base, indicating your impending orgasm.

a large, furry paw grabbed the back of your head and forced it to face the man below you. the one stuffing your pretty little ass full of wolf cock and knot. “enjoying yourself? master y/n..?”

you nodded in response, lycaon leaning forward to capture your lips—or rather mouth—into a disgustingly passionate kiss. your eyes white from how far they rolled to the back of their heads as the thiren stuffed your mouth with his tongue.

“‘course she enjoys it..a good little lady like her would adore a dickin’ from us.” the duke chuckled, caging you between his scarred arms.

the sound of skin slapping against skin and your lover’s groans overwhelmed your head. stars filled your vision as an incoming orgasm took feeling from your legs. lycaon kept bullying his length into your tight ass, his knot pressing and growing against your sweetly sensative spot while he swallowed your mewls and begs to be bred full. your little brain was nothing but mush, only with the desire for your boys to stuff you full of cum until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“c-cumm..gonna cum!”

you sobbed, digging your nails into wriothesley’s biceps which forced a hiss through his sharp teeth. the more their cocks twitches, the harder you clenched around them, almost milking the two men till they’re fucking dry.

“woah woah..don’t clench like that baby or we’ll—fuck!” wriothesley abruptly groaned in your ear as ropes of white shot into your cunt, the sudden rush of warmth pushed out sounds that could’ve been straight out of porn. only more so when lycaon felt his own orgasm wash over him.

one final, and harsher, thrust snapped his cock deep in your ass. the sensation doubled the pleasure you were already drunk off of, it’s a shock you didn’t pass out.

“a-apologies master..i should’ve said something before—“

you pressed an intimate kiss onto the wolf’s nose, instantly shutting up whatever formalities he had. “no need, darling..” you spoke in a weak tone. the thiren wrapped his large, furry arms around your waist while the duke buried his face in your bruised up neck.

yet, the fun had only begun, as they haven’t even pulled out of your leaking holes. can’t waste a drop now, can you?

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[eupheme]

— a good, good neighbor

john hancock x f!sole survivor/reader

rated e - 2.8k

tags: friends-with-benefits vibes, mutual yearning & jealousy, mention of chem usage, references to threesome, horny!desperate!hancock, desk/office sex, semi-public sex, piv, blowjobs

prompts: “i want to fuck you so badly” + “i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty.”

“How did you imagine us?”

“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk or bending you over it.”

“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”

(Or - when you come back from a mission, Hancock can’t wait to get his hands on you)

Despite the bustle inside the Third Rail, it’s all just dull noise.

Hancock can’t say he’s heard a word Fahrenheit has said. It’s not his fault she had cornered him inside the entrance, right as he was on his way in.

Where he has a perfect view of the bar.

A perfect view of you, where you perch on one of the stools in front of Charlie. Looking like a dream, in your soft, faded clothes.

Not that he doesn’t like your vault suit. The way it fits like a glove around your hips and thighs, the swell of your tits.

He’s always been a fan.

But there’s something about this - how you look like you belong here, with him. It’s been a while since he’s felt his heart stir, but you really seemed to have woken it up.

His partner huffs, finally stepping to the side. Her own plans tonight, eyes already drifting over to the stage. A long-suffering sigh - a hand that pushes her undercut back, a scrunch of her nose.

“Remind me to let you two… debrief next time, before I talk to you.”

Hancock grins, only now coming back, “You got it, sister.”

He owes her one. Tomorrow he’ll sit down and really listen, but it’s been a long fuckin’ week and the chems he downed in his office are just now taking effect.

Tipping him towards being too high to be jealous that you’re talking to another ghoul - a sentiment that he’s only just becoming acquainted with.

That was never really his style, before now.

And just a tad too sober to suggest Deegan just join them, if your conversation doesn’t wrap up soon.

Really fuckin’ soon.

It’s as he sidles up to you that he notices just how good you truly look. Scrubbed clean from the wasteland, and he’s already imagining you in the Rexford, hands sliding over your wet curves in the shower.

Getting ready to come here, applying that pretty shade of red that darkens your lips - a treasure found on a recent favor you did for Daisy.

Something that had kept you away for days, his jaw gritting as you had left without him.

It’s the same shade as his coat - and that does something, too. A clenching in his guts, a wash of need as he imagines it marking up his cock. A pretty ring around the base, staining his skin.

Christ, he needed to get it together.

Your eyes brighten when you see him, “I was hoping you’d find me. Heard you were still working.”

He fits against you, leaning on the bar. A hand draping across your shoulder - eager to touch, as your head tips up to his.

“Never too busy for my favorite girl.”

The smile you give him, those pretty painted lips stretched wide, shoots straight to his cock. Uncomfortable, where it strains against the front of his trousers - and maybe, he just might be head-over-heels.

He needs to get out of here.

“You want to get out of here?” He asks - the back of your neck warm where his palm curves around it, thumb brushing over soft skin.

Feeling the low hum in your throat, as you answer.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“I want to fuck you so badly.”

Hancock growls it in your ear, as he wrenches the door to the Old State House open. Bypassing your room at the Rexford, opting for something closer.

He always seemed to like you in his bed. Late nights turning into slow mornings, getting acquainted with the soft drag of fingers against skin. Comparing scars until you’ve learned each and every one.

You think he’d keep you there, if he could. If you both weren’t so prone to wandering.

The rough admission sends your pulse racing. Never expecting to miss someone like you did him. Never thinking you’d get a chance like this again.

But something about being with Hancock feels so easy. Something invisible that ties you to him, but that tether is never-ending. Both of you always finding your way back to each other, in a slow orbit.

Never knowing what it truly meant to know that someone had your back - until you were looking down the barrel of something you weren’t supposed to come back from, out in the wasteland.

Knowing he would be there, as soon as you called.

“Then fuck me,” You sigh against him, at the landing of the second-floor staircase. The railing pressing into your back as his tongue licks into your mouth.

Hands fisting in the collar of his frock as his hips roll against yours. Getting turned around in path back to his room.

Ending up across the hall, in his new office. The door still cracked open as you both stumble inside. A soft sound of surprise when you find yourself bumping up against a heavy wooden desk, instead of the couches you’ve come to know so well.

He’s already herding you to the other side, moving his chair out of the way. Hoisting you onto the edge, before stepping between spread thighs.

Mouthing at your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt.

“Wrong room,” You sigh, as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Right fuckin’ room.” His hips meet yours, rolling himself against your core, “Know how many times I’ve dreamed about having you in here?”

The thought of him thinking of you has your thighs tightening around his hips. A needy moan when his hand fondles a breast over the fabric of your bra, before it’s slipping beneath.

“How-” You start, and then squeak as his fingers pinch against the tight peak of your nipple, “How did you imagine us?”

His black eyes are hazy when he pulls back. A shine on his lips from where his tongue soothed a mark left against your neck.

“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk, or bending you over it.”

You whine at the thought - a jolt of pleasure arcing through you as his hips jerk against yours, grinding against your clothed core.

“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”

God, it’s tempting. Heat flaring to life in your cheeks at the thought - knowing he would.

He’s opened the doors to a lot of new aspects of yourself, but there’s still a shred of your old-world modesty that clings to you.

But it still sends a liquid warmth pooling in your belly. He can feel the way your hands tighten their grip that you’re picturing it too.

The balcony is out of the question, but the rest…

Your palms push at his shoulders, and he allows you just enough room to get down. To flip around until your hips are flush with the edge of the wide desk.

“Why don’t you show me?” You coo, with a glance over your shoulder, “Mister Mayor.”

There’s a flash of teeth with his smile - words as sweet and smooth as honey, “Sweetheart, call me that again and I’ll show you anything you want.”

His hand is quick to press at the small of your back, bending you across his desk like he had imagined. Your hand slipping down to work at the button and zipper of your pants, where he’s already gripping at the fabric to tug your layers down.

Hancock’s hips press into your bare center. Nudging the hard, clothed curve of his cock against yours, fingers already smoothing over your skin. Gripping on before nails drag over the curve of your ass, then slipping between your thighs.

You stifle a moan when he touches you, all slick and swollen already. A day-long lingering anticipation of seeing him, keyed up by his own laid-bare desire.

“You miss me, doll?” Hancock husks, when he finds how wet you are. The tips teasing your clit as he frees himself.

Fingers petting at your folds. Slicking them up until he can smear your arousal against his cock - the rough skin shining in the windows of light that peek in from the city outside.

“Yes,” You whine - he always seems to pull things from you, when he has you like this. Making you soft, willing to lay yourself open if it means he keeps touching you, “Hancock, please-”

The word strings out - as he grasps at your hips, tugging you back just as he drives himself deep into you. This is what you needed - the aching stretch, the way your blood sings already.

Squirming when he stays still, slipping half-way while his hands keep you pinned against the desk.

“Don’t slow down now,” You huff, as you rock back into his touch.

Hancock’s own laugh is low and throaty - you gasp when you feel his fingers slip from your hip. Boldly tracing where you stretch around him, letting his thumb rub at your clit until he can feel you clench.

“Just enjoying the view.” He husks, “It’s not every day I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

His words shoot straight through you, settling in your heart. So much understood and even more left unsaid.

You’re used to the before, when there were neat labels and expectations. Left on uneven footing now, with how the world has changed.

Maybe even scared to bare yourself fully - to let yourself feel so deeply for another person again.

But surely this - this partnership, his words, him - must mean something.

“It could be.”

It slips from you with a sigh, too late to snatch back. Something fluttering in your belly, a heady mix of apprehension and pleasure as he growls - a sharp thrust that has him filling you again.

A shift of his fingers until he’s circling your clit, with just the right pressure that he knows you need. A shallow roll of his hips that starts slow, and steady.

“That right?” His voice is low, lilting up at the end.

You couldn’t really ask him to join you - but tonight, you could pretend. The time you had spent together on the road was some of your best moments in this aftermath.

But you respected his decision to stay, to work a little harder at this Mayor business. Even if it had left you unsure of where you stood with each other.

Even if you did miss him, want him by your side.

“Yeah,” You manage, “Keeping touching me like that and, yeah-”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, “Sunshine, you’re gonna have a harder time getting me to stop.”

He makes good on his promise.

A hand catching under your thigh, hoisting your knee onto the desk top. Opening you up further - a stifled cry pulling from you when he nudges deeper, stroking a spot inside you that steals your breath.

The door is still ajar - the thought of your whines and the slick drive of his cock has your heart pounding.

You’re sure he’d love that too - the shout of his name as he makes you come, echoing to where the drifters sleep above, and where the Watch lingers. The sound of his hips knocking yours into the desk, the rhythmic creak of old wood.

It still lingers as a whimper - bitten back as the pleasure builds. He hasn’t forgotten in the time you’ve been apart, pounding into you again and again. His touch circling just as he bottoms out, a pressure in his own belly with each gasp he pulls from you.

“Fuck, John.” You keen - a number already seeming to tick down inside you, with each circuit of his fingertips, “I’m gonna come-”

“That’s my girl,” He coos - keeping the same rhythm, the same steady pound that threatens to break you, “Give it to me. Soak my fuckin’ cock, sweetheart.”

His girl.

It echos - your cry going silent, when as the pleasure washes over you. Leaving you trembling as you ride out the waves of pleasure, meeting the thrusts that grow lazy.

You needed this, needed it as much as he does. So much packed noise inside your brain going quiet the harder he fucked you, now blissfully silent.

“Look at you,” It’s muted, as your back arches - as you drip around his cock, “You feel so fucking good, not gonna last-”

Almost as if he gets off to this - making you come. Taking you apart, until each breath is a wrung-out gasp, your fingers curling into fists.

It leaves you thinking that if he’s staying here - if he’s been thinking about you, you’ll give him something to remember.

Another check off of his list.

“Hancock,” You breathe - eyes heavy and dazed as you glance over your shoulder.

Where he’s arced over you - grinding himself deep. His own gaze blown-wide with need as it tips to meet yours.

“Come in my mouth,” You beg, “Let me taste you.”

Eyes flicking to his chair, still pulled up next to the desk. He’s always been able to follow you, a rough sound in his throat when the catches what you mean.

“Fuck.” His hips stutter, before he’s slipping from you, “Yeah. Yeah, doll. Anything you want.”

You’re sinking to unsteady knees in front of him, as he drops down into the chair. Knees spread wide as your hands run up his thighs, to where his cock hangs heavy against the unzipped fabric.

Already missing him inside you. A rough groan when your hand wraps around, before you’re swallowing him down. Tasting yourself smeared across him, as your cheeks hollow, your fist pumps.

“So fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” Hancock hisses, the words coming out ragged. Hips bucking into the wet suction of your mouth.

No teasing this time, no kitten-licks. Just the familiar weight of him on your tongue, the jerk of your spit-slicked fist.

A ragged sound slipping from him when your eyes drag up to meet his. Peeks of reddened and rough skin along the way that make you want to take a bite as well.

Noticing how he’s marked up with you - faded shades of red stained on his lips and chin. Littered across on his cock, down to the base.

You think you like the look of it, something warm flickering in your belly - an echo of the pleasure he gave you before.

Wanting him to think about you every time he sits here, after you leave. The feeling of your mouth around him, how hard you made him come. Leaving your own mark on this room, as well.

He groans at the way you watch, the soft lap of your tongue. How you squeeze him bringing him closer - waiting for him to show you how much he needs you.

“Fuck. You’re gonna make me come, gorgeous.” It’s a rough warning, as his hand cradles your jaw. The bite of nails against your neck, as his hips buck.

The groan he makes is loud and low - shameless - as he comes. His cock throbbing in your mouth, each pulse leaking his spend as you swallow him down. Coaxing every drop from him, until you’ve taken it.

Keeping him in your mouth, after - your tongue sweeping lazily across his skin, until he goes soft. Easing off him then, letting your head rest against his thigh.

Hancock’s head still tips back, lost in that soft haze. The shallow rise and fall of his chest, a week’s worth of want spilled across your tongue.

“Was that like you imagined?”

There’s the tilt of his head as he grins, his thumb reaching to press against your lower lip - a low growl when you nip at it.

“Even fuckin’ better.”

The room shifts in front of you - Hancock’s boot propped against the desk, sending the chair back and forth on a slow sway.

Your legs thrown over the armrest, where you sit in his lap. The sounds of Goodneighbor muted outside, as the lights spill across the floor in the dark room.

“Thought I’d stick around a couple days.” You tell him, “Skip out later this week, maybe.”

“You just got in.” He rasps, fingers tracing a pattern against your shoulder, “Got somethin’ going already?”

You hadn’t planned on it. Had been hoping to stick around Goodneighbor for a while. Spend some time with him, before heading out.

But…

“Edward asked me to do a job for him,” You stifle a yawn, your head tilted against his, “Some girl he works for ran off, said she does that all the time.”

Duty always calls.

"Edward?" Hancock’s brow lifts.

“Deegan?”

His tongue clicks against his teeth, a soft pinch of his fingers against your skin, “Didn’t know you and Deegan were that chummy. Edward, huh?”

Your elbow sinks into his ribs, and he grins.

“Well, you don’t gotta wait on me,” He hums, already thinking ahead. “You wanna get this show on the road tomorrow?”

A small mark puckers your brow as you lean to face him, your gaze searching.

“I thought you stopped running.” It’s soft - a question, hidden in your words.

Hancock huffs, “Not running.”

His voice drops - a softness to his beetle-black eyes as he thumbs at your chin, drawing your mouth down to his.

“Just realized I’d rather be by your side.”

With his admission, the hungry press of his lips…

You think you fall just a little harder.

loved the idea of a desperate/lovey Hancock paired with a sweetly oblivious “what are we” Sole, haha 💖 thanks for reading!! and for this perfect request!

[missuscupid]

content warning; cockwarming, finger sucking, simon’s a little mean.

simon riley who is so soft and kind when it comes to his partner while on leave. never raising his voice or letting the darkness of ghost seep into their world. always giving you exactly what you want before you can even ask.

simon who takes his time taking you apart because he wants to savor these moments again and again. his pretty bird underneath his fingertips and stripping away every article of clothing to hear your noises while he sinks into you. simon that loves to move gentle and slow because nothing else in his world is gentle or slow. nothing else let’s him move at his own pace.

but sometimes, you want more than gentle and slow.

sometimes you’re intentionally pushing all those buttons that simon holds. his patience is thin and he just wants to relax and watch his football game- the recruits at the base have been pushing him more, he’s prepping to be deployed, or he just feels all the wires coiled up in him ready to shock whoever gets close enough. he’s always been so patient and kind- and you want to push for mean.

one too many times you’ve bent down in front of him while he’s watching football, and he can see the way your tiny shorts give way to ever curve of your ass. the same way he can tell that you’re not wearing any panties under those lounge shorts. your top too tight, he can see the outline of everything when you turn back around, feigning innocence at the way his fingers tighten around the neck of the beer bottle in his grasp. you’ve been fretting about the flat all day, an energy around you that can only be described as thick with desire. a need for attention that only simon can provide.

it’s a subtle change in his eyes that only you notice, watching as he curls his fingers to you, requesting your closeness without a word. you stand in front of him, eyes trained on his lap as fingers thread the belt buckle from his middle. his cock freed from his jeans, already red and leaking demanding your attention.

“sit.”

a simple command happily accepted by shedding away your shorts and sinking down on his cock. but then his hand grapples at your waist, holding you still before you can take what you so desperately wanted. your so wet, already a mess on his lap but you can’t move- he won’t let you move by the steadying hand on your hip.

“so needy today, lovie.” that voice should have been the first warning, so different from his usual coddling, teasing tone. his hand moves from your hip, long fingers splaying across the base of your neck. he tugs you back against his chest, his cock stretching out your holes more. “but i’m just trying to watch the game.”

“but-“ it’s hopeless. it’s punishment.

“sit here and be quiet. maybe i’ll let you cum after.”

it’s torture, sitting and feeling him twitch beneath you. his eyes still trained on the television set, bottle of beer moving only between his lips and the arm of the couch as if you weren’t sitting there eyeing him with the desperation of a person never touched. your hips shift lightly, trying to gain some sort of stimulation at your core. his hand is still heaving on you, all your attention drawn down to the weight of his scarred fingers against your skin.

“si-“ you try, but it’s met with nothing. his eyes are trained on the screen with military like obedience. his lips a tight smirk tucked underneath the mask he was wearing since he settled in after work that evening.

“simon,” you try again, shifting once more.

his cock swells beneath you- the only indication that he’s actually listening to your desperation. simon’s hand tightens on your hip once more.

“did i say you could move?” it’s low, eyes finally tugging back to you. his hand slips down your front, settling on your clit. he doesn’t move, fingers settled in the heat of your cunt. “always so talkative.”

he circles his fingers over your clit, causing a moan to slip out of your mouth. your head falls to his shoulder, face pressed against his neck while he absently toys with you over the commercial break of the game. fingers moving expertly, stroking your middle. the commercial ends, the announcer back with a monotone voice recounting the game.

”be good.” his only command, fingers slipping away as you whine, “be quiet.”

it’s a swift movement before his fingers are shoved in your mouth, flattening against your tongue as the taste of you floods your tastebuds. his fingers push back enough to have you gagging around the taste of yourself, the taste of simon, all of it. his fingers rest there, his cock still stretching you out taunting you to disobey.

he finishes watching the game- all while you sit like an obedient toy on his lap. you’ve been so good. so quiet since you’ve sat down, listening to his heavy breathing as he gets lost in the game.

if his team wins, you get to cum.

if his team loses, you’d better hope you’ve cleared your calendar for the evening. simon has plenty of things planned for you to take his mind off everything.

[diejager]

can u pretty pls write some kidnapper! konig.. where he lives streams himself non-conning fem! reader ? while perverted men and other weirdos online watch and comment about us 😛

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, porn, non-con filming, size kink, kidnapping, power imbalance, degradation, tell me if I missed any.

Pleasure, whether consensual or not, was still pleasure, it burned through your nerves with a painful throb, a loud thrum that dazed you. You writhed, your feet kicking towards the camera he placed before you, pointing it towards your debauched figure, showing the audience - all sick and twisted men and women who were as sick as your captor was - how your slick cunt took him. König - your captor, your owner, your lover, or whatever fit him in the moment - was a giant of a man, his shoulders broader and thighs thicker than any man you’ve met, his whole body so big that he couldn’t even fit in the frame of the video he was directing. 

His form swallowed you, holding you still without much trouble, the muscles of his arms tensing and his abdomen rippling when a wave of pleasure ripped through him, his loud groans and shameless growls muffled by the balaclava he wore. His scarred hands bruised your supple thighs, spreading your legs open and slung over his lap, giving him full view of your. Your tight cunt stretched around his girth with a thick base and even thicker shaft, veins pulsing and pumping blood to feed his hard-on. He never groomed, he never saw the purpose for it, leaving it knotted and stinky, the musk of sweat and something that stank of him, a wild bush wet with your slick and his cum, glistening with how much he stuffed you with and a cloudy ring growing ever darker with the amount of orgasms he pulled from you. 

“Stupid whore, ”he spat, his grip growing stronger as he bucked his hips upwards, thrusting up as he dropped you on his cock, spearing you in front of a spectators, spitting degrading words and cruel insults, “Too dumb to listen. Too dumb to understand.”

He growled out his words, grinding them through his gritted teeth as he lifting you up and dropping you down on his lap like he would with the fleshlight he used to own, pumping it with a gross amount of cum when he was forced to watch you from afar. Imagining you squealing and choking on his cock worked wonders until it didn’t, he grew hungrier and hungrier for you, leaving him starving for you until he acted out his on his urges. He took things into his hands and brought you home, to lock a pretty collar around your throat and cut his name into your flesh to show his community who you belonged to. 

“You fight, but you always come on my cock,” he rasped, lowering his head to stare at your fluttering lashes, tears falling from them and rolling down your cheeks, a temptation for his tongue to come out and lap it all up. You were always so pretty when you cried, crying and mewling over him when he fucked you, ramming his round tip into your gummy cervix and pushing his cum deeper into your womb, “Schwanz fixierte Hua.”[Cock hungry whore]

Somehow, for whatever reason, your cunt clenched around him whenever he spat an insult, demeaning you to nothing but a cocksleeve or cum-dumping hole he would use forever after this one public show made you careen over the edge. Your back arched, pushing your swollen and perky nipples out as your walls closed around his cock, feeling every curve and groove of it and milking him for a second —or was it a third load? You couldn’t remember, all that your could remember was the shape of him, his rough handling and how sickening it was when he confessed that he broke into your appartement over the month and shared his plans he decided to enact. 

“Kan Stress Mausi. I werd mi guad um di kümman, und don zag i earna, dass’d mia g’heast. Klingt doch guad, oda?, “He whispered sweet promises as he pumped you full, his cock twitching as his body shook with the strength of it. He pressed a long and soft kiss to your cheek, a cruel smile curling the corners of his lips. [Don’t worry, mouse. I’ll take good care of you, then show them you’re mine. Good, yes?]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[sintiva]

toji let’s his pretty bunny girl hump n’ cum all over his cock <33 let’s u bounce on it as much as you want to, til it’s frothing at the base <333 toji tugging on your lil’ bunny tail and beggin ya to slow down,

“my cock’s throbbing, baby. milked me dry—yy.”

<333 toji who can’t keep up w his bunny girls libido <333 she fucks him dumb. slots her mouth over toji’s scar and peppers the rest of his face in kisses. catches his tongue in her mouth n’ that’s when his dick gets extra hard all over again <333

bunny girl finally lifts off him n’ a pool of cum gushes out <333 soaks toji in his own mess & he loves it. you’re both nasty.

him begging us to slow down is actuallly driving me insanenenenenenenene. and on top of that he can’t keep up with her libido either :((((2(2(2(/ SEMS OMG <3

just thinking of her teasing and bombarding him with feathery kisses all over his face, and her hand wrapped around his leaky cock. she’s been pumping him through his boxers in slew of wanting to make him cum again. but at this point your infinite libido conflates toji’s extra hard, but really, really sensitive dick… and his hips, his poor hips:(

they writhe uncontrollably, and he doesn’t think it’s humanly possible for you to milk him any longer. to the point where he’s whimpering, and hissing from overstimulation. “ ‘s too much, baby. my dick-“

“jus’ a little more please, toji.” he marvels and thinks he can put his foot down and say “no”, but when you hop on his lap once more and straddle his thighs he groans in sexual frustration, and it’s clearly not the lack of, it’s the abundance of it. you straddle him and and raise to your toes. you’re ready to bounce on his dick once more, and he just gets so hard every time. he grips your hips tightly, and tugs on that eager little tail of yours; scar stretching as his mouth falls open from your teasing of his tip. toji said he was tired, but he can’t hold himself back from rutting his hips up as you bounce and hold onto your ankles. shallow fucking his tip until his cum leaks out of you and dribbles down his throbbing length. 😫

and just thinking about how much of it froths at the base, and when you’re done, he’ll be slumped on the couch. you giving him a hand, literally and jerking his cock to see how the veins in his legs swell from shooting blanks :)

[zombieplaygrounds]

CW: (i lowkey forgot to finish this ><), price x afab!f! reader drabble, smut, mdni, insecure! price?, slightly toxic relationships, internal cumshot, sex while crying, cigarettes.

Fuck. You were so pathetic at the mercy of Price. His gorgeous girl, easily accessible whore. He loved you, he fucked you like he hated you - of course. And there were those occasions you really did scare him, darling. He was a broken man that you had to pick up piece by piece only for him to shatter all over again with leave. Arrives home like a fucking horror movie, covered in injuries and freshly sprouting injuries. Loves it, that glimmer in your eyes and a slackened jaw.

You'd run up with glossy eyes - you looked like you really cared. And he almost believed it. But god forbid you loved and cared for this monster known as John Price. The shiny dangling dog tag sticking to your chest and dangling around with every movement. Gave you a copy because he "isn't sure you would get the original when he dies, love".

So cruel, really. The way he tugs you in all different directions, mentally claiming you into a stupid and gullible thing. All just to spend hours fucking you so rough and rapidly, making you cry from the overstimulation and searing hot pleasure in your core. Your cunt squeezing around his cock in desperate attempts to be bred, milk him of his spawn. All while he kissed the back of your neck, digging his teeth to leave pretty indents in your soft flesh.

You'd gasp out sharp huffs of air - pleads for mercy -you would beg, not due to his cruel words, or that arrogant smirk with his hand grasping at your neck with all the power in the world. But because of the intimacy and vulnerability he had chosen to give only you to see this passionate and rabid beast he was reduced to in your presence a made you cry those fat hot tears of love. Love so cruel it would gag you.

And of course, to the painful end of it all, your head was left spinning, vision blurred - and fuck, he had you huffing like a fucking mutt. He'd pull his cock out, admiring the webby strands of arousal and sperm that connected the two of you. Groaning just slightly as the angry head of his cock oozed with more greedy substance, directing itself back toward your seeping entrance. So tempting, but based on your pathetic little whines and trembling legs - you were spent. Mewling like a kitten when he grazed his finger tips curiously across your swollen, puffy folds.

"Fuckin' beautiful." Price whispered, licking the salty, delectable cream of your cunt. The noise and awful buzz of insecurity in his mind slowly fading away to nothing but an empty, soothing silence. Gave him a chance to enjoy his cigarette, all while gently combing his digits across your bare back. Already had Price memorized your blemishes, scars, stretch marks; all of it little pieces he clung to desperately - figments of your reality. That mixed in with the markings of his hands, his nails; rigid scratches on your hips...

Perfection.

Time would pass, what felt like hours was really minutes of him just admiring the messy work of art he had splurted between your thighs. Groaning a bit as he leaned back, resting his sore muscles. Sooner or later you'd crawl to bury yourself against his soft, muscular form.

[katsukikitten]

𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓵

18+ minors DNI | Smut, no warnings.

"I could keep you like this, you know?" His voice is pure sin as his long fingers squeeze at the fat of your hips. Pinning you to the mattress as he stays sheathed inside you, unmoving.

"G-Gojo, don't tease." But you knew damn well that's what the man lived for. Teasing, grating, annoying and burying himself under people's skin because he knew he could, knew no one would step to him and make him stop.

Knew he had to keep everyone at arm's length.

You try pushing at the dark blindfold he always wears and he grabs onto your wrist, "Don't you want to see me? What you do to me?"

The sound of your voice makes his cock twitch, he always left his blind fold on with you, especially when the two of you were tangled limbs and bruised kisses.

He hadn't intended to ever get this far, to come half a year down the road and still fucking you. Not because you felt good or because you were the best pussy he's had despite not having many.

But because of how your fingers felt in his hair after. How you'd hum songs he thinks he should know, the sound vibrating in your chest competing with the thump of your steady heart beat. How you share meals with him now, making something delicious or knowing exactly what take out he wanted. And you never ever forget dessert or his favorite soda.

That's why he has come back again and again.

And that's what scares him.

He lets his free hand run through his moon white hair, sighing in defeat when you slam the final nail into the coffin, "Please."

A desperate whine, truly a plea that you want nothing more than the intimacy of being seen and at your most vulnerable. To selfishly look into the eyes of the man you loved, to peer through the window and into his soul.

The idea of it makes him shudder.

Still he drops your wrist, settles his large hands back at your hips as you gently remove the blindfold. His long lashes kissing his cheeks before he lets them flutter open. His fingers squeezing at your sides again as they adjust to the low light of the night in your small bedroom.

It's always overwhelming when he first takes off his blindfold fully, more so than any fight. He can really feel you now, feel the plains of your skin, of the softness and roughness of it. The scars that littered your plush body and the few stretch marks. How your eyes sparkle and crinkle when you smile up at him. Your hair making a halo of sorts behind your head and in this moment he thinks you're truly beautiful.

He knew you were before he ever saw you, your aura said as much but to see you, to feel you, it was more than he could ever fathom. As if you alone had him trapped in his own domain, pondering all there was, feeling surreal under hus palms. And then you bring him back to Earth.

Crashing and burning.

With just a few simple, innocent words.

"There you are." It's soft, easy and genuine. Hand cupping his cheek, thumb sliding over the apple of it and it makes him dip closer. Makes his hips snap into yours roughly as he chases the feeling of your cunt clamping around him. Holding eye contact with you as best he can, not because it's hard for him because normally it is, but because the way you feel has his pretty eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Gripping at you until you think you'll bruise, grinding and dipping into you just right, the thatch of white hair at the base of his cock slick and rubbing against your clit just right.

You see stars, stomach clenching with each pointed thrust that hits that spongy spot inside you with ease. Making you cry out in pleasure. Scraping your sharp nails against his shoulder blades as you urge him closer, until all the two of you can see is each other.

The closeness makes him groan, makes the coil in your stomach snap, wrapping your legs around his waist and curling your toes. Pressing into him as if you needed him impossibly closer.

Still Gojo tries, for you he'd always try. Despite his worry or fear he has over what the two of you are cultivating at this moment he does not care.

Only cares about how your lashes flutter, how your mouth forms into a pretty o when you cum, how you cling to him desperately while he fucks you through your orgasm and into another and another.

Until you're panting under him, eyes hazed like you're drunk, nails biting into him weakly as he gets you to melt at his touch. Until you're clamping around him so hard with such a pretty preen he can't help but succumb to you.

Always and only you.

Painting your cunt in sticky ropes of white as he groans, looking you in your eyes and its enough to make you whimper. The intensity of it, the realness of it that he normally hides away.

He stays like that, panting above you before he lowers himself on shaky arms, nosing at your throat before he places soft kisses up to your jaw. Slow swipes of his tongue over yours as he gently pulls out of you. Placing his head in his normal spot on your chest, your fingers in his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

The steady beat of your heart is enough to make his eyes heavy, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he starts to drift.

He tells himself in his half conscious state that he won't use his blindfold tomorrow, not even a pair of sunglasses to shield him. As his mind's eye lets your starlit eyes dance across his psyche he knows he wants to see more.

That he'll leave them in that ugly bowl on your entry table by the door, just the same as kicking off the shoes from his feet.

Tomorrow he wanted to see you, all of you, even if he knew it would be like looking at the sun for him.

Even if it meant he'd go blind and only the outline of you would forever be burned into his retinas.

It didn't matter because in the end at least he'd still be able to see you.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Because I was in the mood:

How big is his cock

I base this on the average erect penis to be 13.12 cm (5.17 in) in length and 11.66 cm (4.59 in) in girth

Yami:

Size: He is long and thick no matter how you look at it, with relatively little foreskin. You can't wrap your fingers around him so that your fingertips would be able to touch. Which would translate into long foreplay sessions because he knows he needs to prepare his partner well. Length: ~20 cm (7,5-8 in) Girth: ~14 cm (5.5 in) Other: Has one massive, throbbing vein running down the length of the middle of the shaft Hair: He trims occasionally, but most of the time has at least an "aftershave". That being said, he does keep himself clean

Nozel:

Size: He is above average in length and girth, enough to be considered as "impressive", the tip of his cock is covered by foreskin before erection, but as he gets fully erect, the tip shows itself. Wrapping him with your fingers is possible, but it would require long fingers. Foreplay sessions are long, partly because he likes the build up Length: ~17 cm (6,5-7 in) Girth: ~12.5 cm (4,9 in) Other: Has a couple very prominent veins Hair: He keeps it trimmed at all times. There's a small patch of neatly cut hair at the base of his cock, but otherwise he's cleanly shaven and tidy.

Fuegoleon:

Size: He is well endowed, and he knows it. But not as much as to consider himself as "huge". He has little foreskin, and even while in flaccid state the foreskin doesn't cover the tip, but stays at the base of the tip. Girth is decent; at the thickest point your fingers are not able to wrap around him. Foreplay sessions are long, but mostly because he enjoys teasing and making his partner feel good Length: ~18 cm (7-7.5 in) Girth: ~13 cm (5.1 in) Other: He has a couple of larger veins here and there, but not so much larger that they'd stand out from the rest Hair: Keeps himself cleanly shaved at all times. Even to go as far as to apply some gently deodorant on his inner thighs.

William:

Size: He has good reach, and grows the most in length between flaccid and erect states out of his peers. He also does appear to have a lot of foreskin in flaccid state, but it's all stretched out by the time he's erect. Girth is alright, but one is able to wrap their fingers around his shaft. Foreplay is drawn-out because he's gentle and doesn't want to be too assertive in the bedroom Length: ~16 cm (6-6.5 in) Girth: ~12 cm (4.7 in) Other: Very veiny, with good sized, throbbing veins Hair: He shaves around once a week, but does keep a patch of hair around his cock. He's mostly concerned with shaving under his balls, because he finds the hair there to be itching and uncomfortable

Jack:

Size: He's long and thin, with decent foreskin. But honestly, one barely notices because he's very energetic in the bedroom. Wrapping fingers around his girth is doable, if you manage to make him still. Foreplay with him is sloppy and hasty, like he couldn't contain his excitement Length: ~17 cm (6,5-7 in) Girth: ~11,5 cm (4,5 in) Other: He has a couple of scars around his lower abdomen, of which he doesn't want to talk about (it's shaving incidents) Hair: Shaving isn't his forte ironically. So, there will be patches of hair here and there, but he does keep himself cleaned up

Julius:

Size: He is very sturdy, alright reach. The foreskin does require pulling back even while erect, but he is also meticulous about keeping himself as fresh and clean as possible at all times. Wrapping fingers around his cock is very difficult, even with long fingers. And the make-out sessions are usually long, because he knows that he needs to get his partner loosen up Length: ~ 14,5 cm (5.7-6 in) Girth: ~13 cm (5.13 in) Other: Very evened out cock, neat and "pretty". But sturdy. Very sturdy Hair: He has a patch of hair over his pubic bone, but otherwise it's clean shaved. Well trimmed, cleaned and tidy

Nacht:

Size: He's on the shorter and girthier side as well. But has little foreskin, and not prominent veins either. However, due to the bulkiness of his cock, he also tend to take his time with preparing his partner. Length: ~14 cm (5.5 in) Girth: ~13,5 cm (5.3 in) Other: No prominent veins, very smooth cock Hair: Keeps himself meticulously trimmed and hairless

Rill:

Size: He has a very cute penis. It's on the average side when it comes to length and girth, but he's also very sweet and energetic in bed. He has a decent amount of foreskin, but it stretches out when he's erect. And foreplay is long and sweet Length: ~13 cm (5.12-5.3 in) Girth: ~11.5 cm (4.55 in) Other: A couple prominent veins Hair: Has a patch of hair over his pubic bone that he likes to make of different shapes regularly

Morgen:

Size: He's on the longer and thinner side, with a couple of prominent veins. He also has a good amount of foreskin, which needs to be pulled back, even when he's erect. Foreplay with him is fast paced and sloppy, because he's much more eager than he might appear in public Length: ~17 cm (6.5-7 in) Girth: ~12 cm (4.7 in) Other: Has a couple of very prominent throbbing veins (don't run your finger over them, away such thoughts~) Hair: He keeps a very neatly trimmed patch at the base of his cock; it's like even that patch doesn't grow ever!

Marx:

Size: He is far bigger than one might expect. He is quite short in height, but is well endowed in other aspects. He has minimal foreskin, and an impressive girth. Foreplay tends to be "heavy" and intense, and he is one to take charge Length: ~17.5 cm (7-7.2 in) Girth: ~14 cm (5.5 in) Other: A lot of veins, even the smaller ones you can see look big Hair: Not a hair in sight below the equator

[vyglitchcraft]

i know requests are closed but im just gonna send this in so i dont forget scyzoth x m!reader with facesitting...i wanna eat that pretty boy out so bad dawg

ABSOLUTELY CUZ SAME

Lizard Cake (18+)

MK1 Reptile/Syzoth x Male!reader

Content: prostitution, nsfw, face sitting, rimming, tongue fucking, anal focus, Sub!Syzoth, Dom!reader, male anatomy for reader, PWP, 69 position, fingering, toys, prostate milking (sort of), detailed description, first time anal, reader is a horny POS, short fic, blow jobs, HE HAS A TAIL

Plot: fuck who knew Zaterrans could taste so good

"Some people would pay good money to see my...talents"

He said but you took it in a different way. Paying him a huge sum of money just to spend a night with him, at first he was confused but the money was good so he couldn't complain but what he didn't expect was for you to immediately ask him to take his pants off as soon as he arrived in your private room.

You were laying down on the bed while Syzoth was hovering right above your face, his hands right beside your hips. "Come on lizard boy, don't be shy, show me what you got!" he nodded, pushing the fabric of his shirt away and spreading himself open. He seemed untouched down there, well not his cock, he had kids of course he had sex before but he definitely never been the bottom. Barely any hair down there, he was smooth. Syzoth looked at you blushing, telling you to stop staring but you just couldn't help it. You ran your thumb over his hole which immediately made him shiver. He was tight, you could tell. His tail sways back and fourth, waiting nervously for your next move.

Pressing your lips against that puckered hole gave you some muffled moans and a tail wrapping around your neck. You sucked and licked around the opening while your hand was placed on the base of his tail while the other was on his thigh. Slowly, your tongue pressed against his opening, licking him open until your tongue entered the lizard. You could feel him squeezing and tightening around the intruder. At this point his cock was practically leaking with pre and onto your torso. His hand moved from his own ass to your thighs, laying his head right against your bulge.

He moaned softly as he licked your member over your pants. Soaking your underwear with his spit before pushing your pants completely down and pulling out your cock. He kept moaning and humming before wrapping that long tongue of his around the shaft and wrapping those perfectly scarred lips around the gland. You couldn't help but reached down to grab his head and pushed yourself deeper into his throat. He didn't seem to mind luckily, didn't gag or anything.

As soon as you found his prostate, he jolted up, resting all his weight onto your face, practically sitting on you. He grinded on your tongue while his hands gripped the sheets, trying his hardest not to touch himself without your permission. He bit down on his lip, muffling any moans and whines that he lets out while you abuse his prostate. You pulled your tongue out slowly to lick his rim before quickly pushing it back inside again.

Joining your tongue were two of your fingers, stretching him out even further. His tail wagged back and fourth quickly, finally letting go of your neck. Seemed like he was a fan of getting stretched out. Another pair of fingers joined, pumping in and out of him. You pushed him up and into another position, ass up face down, giving you more control to eat him out. Pulling away for once gave you a sight to behold. Syzoth panting, his hole red and puffy from your sucking and absolutely soaked in saliva, slightly open from your fingers stretching him out. He swayed his hips begging for more but this time it wasn't for your tongue, he was begging for you to fuck him.

Of course you couldn't help it, lining up your cock against his stretched out hole and pushed yourself in. God he felt even better, still tight but so slippery from the prep. Grabbing his tail, you pounded into him with a rough pace, making Syzoth unable to hide his own moans. Did getting bred always felt this good? He was jealous of his past customers now for able to feel this good, he couldn't believe it.

His eyes rolled into his while his hand tried to cover his mouth but you couldn't let him hide his voice, you held both of his wrists and pounded into him even faster. He was drunk off of this, telling you just how close he is and to just keep fucking him. For his first time, he held out long, only a couple more strokes and suddenly he came. Spraying that nice white cum all over the bed while you painted his insides white. Pulling out, you couldn't let all that hard work go to waste so you pushed in a plug. There wasn't any give, it slid in easily and he didn't seem to react, too busy basking in the afterglow.

"Welp thanks, money's on the table, see ya later" you slowly got up and pulled your pants back up, you pat Syzoth's head before waving goodbye and the only thing he could do was give a thumbs up and nod

[sherwees]

everything-is-fine-maybe-not-but-whatever (sequel to cflwasd)

cw : major character death, NONCON, violence, detailed-ish murder(s), kidnapping, torture, usage of drugs to knock out reader, descriptions of inflictions (bruises and scars) and just overall fucked shit.

side note : that one clip of Hendery saying “So pretty.” got me through this and I'll link it in the fic.

extra side note : ty for @ne0pearl and @imeunseoksbby for giving me this whole idea!! I tried not to disappoint.

Your mind maybe processed the rushing footsteps coming towards you along with the warmth of Hendery's cock leaving you but you definitely heard a strangled grunt from Hendery with a thud to the wall.

You fixed yourself or at least tempted to but seeing the scene of Hendery's face turning pale with Eunseok's unrelenting grasp on his neck from your peripherals irked you to do something. You were used to not interfering with Eunseok's usual quarrels with whomever.

Swinging your purse on your shoulder, you're met with Eunseok's dead stare with tears brimming, he seemed mad but actually upset for once. Hendery's veins protruded out of his hand as he slid up the wall, teeth clenched in hopes to control his breathing; his other hand fixing his crooked waistband to his underwear.

“Please go outside..” Eunseok says, tilting on one foot to grab his beanie from the ground.

You still and stare.

“Go. Outside.” His head was now turned to you and his voice cracked on the last word, he now shut his eyes with seething anger.

“But Kunhang–”

He slams the side of his fist to a wall, leaving a dent. “I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT– Just go outside.” He then smoothes his beanie out, huffing. Only then, you rush out the door; the summer heat causing your shirt to cling onto your body once more.

This was the only moment you could appreciate your house only being a block away, you could make it home fast and prepare for what he was going to do in a few.

You could only lay under your gray blanket, looking dejectedly at the scars on your thighs; lifting your thigh to observe the crimson heart from only a few minutes before. Hearing the door slam, you scrambled to run to the bathroom with an ache in your chest.

You grasped the oval pendant on your neck with a wince, sliding down the door with a sob until you heard calmer footsteps from the living room. The pendant now laid in your hand, the same pendant you honed on the marble basement floors when you were so fed up from the arguing, you wanted to kill the man.

You wanted to check but it might've been a trick just waiting to hit so you didn't even bother to peek outside until curiosity hit when you heard Eunseok's footsteps and a creak to the bed.

What?

Eunseok's gaze met your scared own immediately.

“Eunnie?” You mumbled.

“My sweet girl.” He rasped from the edge of the bed, arms wrapping around you once you came over with a weak crooked smile from his bleeding lip. The purple and blue splotches blooming amongst his neck and the slight tear at his shirt's neckline, your eyes widened in concern whilst you hugged his neck; smelling his strong cologne from his grey shirt whilst smoothing your hand to his torso.

He sighed, “Now what am I going to do with you..”

There was a sudden steel grasp to the base of your neck; Eunseok's veins leading from his shoulder to his forearm strained against the thin shield of tan skin. The spit accumulating in your narrowed esophagus caused you to kick and scratch at his back. Eunseok's eye twitched, his tense expression falling at once.

You felt something warm on your shirt... sticky.. He coughed concerningly enough to finally make you stare at the maroon emerging and painting his ribs. A profound narrow wound seemed to be stretching from his back to his center; It couldn't be?

Horror and concern jumped at your nerves, “No, no, no.” you murmured as Eunseok's eyes went dull, pupils expanded once he laid beside you. His eyes flickering from your frantic hands grabbing and gripping his shirt to the snot lining your upper lip, lips contorted as spit flew from the power of your strained cords.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” You straddled him into a hug, rocking his soon lifeless body as the blood spread on the sheets below you. His exposed rib knicked and scratched at your own, his heartbeat slowing at the rhythm of your curses.

It was now silent.

You couldn't even call the cops.

Feeling a sharp sensation poke into your palm, opening it there laid, your oval pendant, stained with blood.

You tossed and turned, what the fuck were you doing with a body only a few meters away, your significant other. You needed somewhere to go, he started to decay and every moment you checked on him; his skin got paler.

You couldn't take it. You then scowl and jump up to yank Eunseok's coat off the rack, his warm scent shooting up your nose; something to remember for some time. Where were you walking actually? was the only thing you thought whilst mindlessly walking through the quiet roads. The cold air brushed your exposed and torn knees, the street lights seemed a blur until you stopped at the same wooden door coincidentally.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

Your fist felt sore.

You bit your lip, enough for blood to draw. Your finger tips feathered the cold knob in hesitation, taking a shaken breath, you swung it open; the wind aiding it creepily.

One step.

Two steps.

Three–

“I've been waiting for you.” The grave voice scared you to the core, causing you to stop on your heel comically with a jagged breath. Stilling with a sigh, shoulders hunched as the door shut behind you with your coat sliding off slightly.

Hendery let out an exasperated grunt as his slender fingers trailed around your now-trembling shoulders. His pads rubbing smooth circles into your shoulders to soothe you, you felt like a statue within his presence once he turned you slowly. His eyes focused on your dismal ones as you attempted to look away at the sight of the red outline of Eunseok's fingers.

“There's no need to be ashamed baby, it's just a little boo-boo.” He coaxed in your ear, using his backhand of his navy sleeve to move your strands from your pretty face.

“You need to calm down, come with me.” In a trance, you did. You were mesmerized by his sweet voice down the hallway, the darkness didn't concern you until you felt a smooth, comfortable surface that laid behind you. Your eyes darting around the room until a cool air of wind hit your sweaty forehead, the moonlight then alluded through Hendery's window; illuminating half of his face. His eyes low and gazing deep into your own, his lips parted and plump.

You then felt something poke at your neck and a force, the substance causing you to go limp, your peripherals went black and you could only focus at Hendery's smirk tug at the corner of his lips. He waved his hand in your face, wincing at the pain forming in your retina; it was now that every time you would blink, it would hurt.

“So pretty~” was the only thing you heard until you fell into the abyss.

“How long has it been?” You mumbled as you scratched at your knees. You could barely remember what you've done in the past 24 hours, he hasn't been down here for about 3 days. The insanity nearly consumed your soul into nothingness, you started seeing figures run across the dimly lit room and noises from the corner. You only spoke back once and now he was overdoing it.

Did he want you to suffer? You now raised your knees to your chest but the shock of pain and exhaustion from the scabs and scars and days of starving just made you go limp. Raising your attention to something else, you stared at the jeans, jackets, stuffed animals, sweatshirts that Hendery considered “gifts” and lied saying that they were brand new. They were all Eunseok's but when you questioned him, he left for a few weeks but then brought a decaying finger in a bag just to leave you in hysterics.

Leading you to go into straight havoc; shredding clothes, ripping the stuffed animals and doing anything to get his attention but you eventually regretted it once he screamed at you for an hour about your ungratefulness and that you were going to be buried and forgotten right alongside your scum of a boyfriend.

The thought of being forgotten still itched the crevices of your mind till this day.

You wriggled your skirt off with scathed digits, the same one stained with the blood of your dead lover to examine your blemishes, fading and new. The bile raised at your throat and the tears overflowed your waterline as you copied Hendery's trail that he made on that same fateful day. You regained the feeling of your legs fully because of the pain that he inflicted on your lower region in general. Just being stubborn got you here and now you couldn't even escape, the times your punishments got worse just for “disobeying” him.

The times that you were paralyzed as he pounded his anger into you as his gruff voice would just spit all types of curses in your ear with his nails leaving prints in your plush thighs, when he would shove some type of pill down your throat just to wake up to an ache in your abdomen just to raise your shirt; met with scars and engravings of profanity, he even hyper extended your arm to make sure you were defenseless against him.

Footsteps came from above.

Locks twisted from the door that your eyes were glued on since the beginning of your stay, something warm flowed through your stomach. The excitement shooting an unexpected grin to your face, he's treated you so well, what could go wrong?

The light peaking from the door for a quick second then fading away. You didn't even notice Hendery walking over until he placed a harsh kick to your side, your legs went numb again.

“What did I tell you about ignoring me–”

“But I'm not.” You interrupted sternly but immediately shooting your hands up in front of your face with a whimper once he raised a hand.

“Still flinching? You know I'm not him.. I'm your true love.” He lowered to your level in a squat, the scar on his eyebrow fading from a previous struggle. You never realized you were spaced out until he boomed a “Hey!”, your attention back on the fuming eyes of his; causing you to shrivel away a bit.

“I believe I have a gift for you, I know you'll love it~” Hendery singsonged the last part of his sentence with a hug as he was now on his knees. “Sometimes, I think about knocking you up.. S’ you could be mine forever ya’ know.” The color drained from your face, your teary orbs meeting Hendery's intimidating ones.

“Come on~” He whined like a kid, his willful expression meeting your sore eyes. The pads of his finger were cold once they made contact with your shoulders, trembling.

“Imagine a little you and me running around our happy little home! I mean just think about it..” His tone becomes as soft as his other hand trailing up and down your thigh, massaging it.

“But I don't think I can.” You blubbered, looking down in shame.

“But you will.” Hendery swiftly pulled out something from his slacks, you could barely react once the familiar stinging of a needle penetrated your skin. Only a hiss could emit from your mouth as your body laid slack, everytime you would move your head even a bit; shapes flooded your vision.

“Y’ think you could talk back?” He manhandled you to the floor, the force felt painfully numb to your hipbone. The sound of a zipper resounded off the walls, your cries felt stuck like a cork in your throat. This might've been the end, you were weak and you felt as brittle as lead.

“You must've been just waiting for me, honey?” His digit toyed with your pantie line then shoved it down, you let out a miniscule screech once his cock nudge at your impaired hole. His tip then exceeded slowly into your heat, his hand slowly trailed up to your jaw gripping it as he lowered his upper half to your back.

“So fuckin’ tight, just how I remembered.” He choked in your ear, his pace became feverish as your face rubbed on the ground. You felt the life leave your body moderately, mumbling a “Kunhang, please..” as your fists closed and clenched.

“Fuck, you're bleedin’ but you'll stay f’ me alright?” He teased in your ear but slapped one of your bruises, causing you to discharge more blood on his member.

You missed the fine breezes from when Eunseok would take you on a walk at a forest preserve as an apology after hurting you similarly but only this time; nobody could save you from the inevitable coming closer with every blink.

You missed him so much.. His topaz eyes that matched his pretty wisps of hair and that same basketball jersey with his name embroidered on it but you'll never see him again.. alive.

But now, the only memories you had of him were fading with your own life.

[diejager]

Chapter 1

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Cw: none in this chapter.

Series masterlist

Laswell had informed their Task Force after the briefing that a newly appointed sergeant, both she and Price had specifically chosen them, picked them from the mass of qualified and unqualified soldiers in the SAS to join the Special ops Task Force 141. It had taken Laswell a few days to have the transfer approved by Lieutenant General Shepherd; which he did.

They had a week to prepare for their arrival and the mystery sergeant that they would share barracks and bunks with them. Soap had droned about their gender, their name, their callsign - Winter, Price told them when he searched for them in the Mess Hall - and their personality. Gaz and Roach both shared his excitement, remembering that the last time that someone new joined them - Roach - was a few years or so.

They seemed like young high school girls gushing about a cute boy or a pretty girl they saw walking down the hall, so much excitement and mirth.

When the time came, Soap had forced Ghost to meet them at the landing site, wanting to be the first team in the base to greet their new member. Ghost grumbled behind the trio, a brooding figure following his brothers. He was guarded, eyes glazed over with wariness as he waited behind the 141 once Price met up before the aircraft landed.

Time seemed to stretch as they watched it land, engines stopped before the cargo door opened slowly. Ghost could hear a low thank you with steady steps echoing around the hatch, his mind swam with everything he had read about them - her, you.

Ghost had asked Price for your file, wanting to know who he would have to meet and work with, suspicion and alert for any dangers that you would bring. He remembers reading it over and over again days prior to your arrival, committing every little piece of information to his mind. Your name was (Name) (L/N) - callsign Winter - a woman with a long list of successful deployments as a sniper and infiltration specialist, both things he saw worth in; however, the added note of combat medic made your skills twice as important.

None of them were well versed in medical care, finding the knowledge of basic care enough to push past the dangers of bullets and grenades. If you were as skilled as your file implied, Ghost would be able to stop worrying so much about Soap or Roach getting hurt by acting recklessly - something they seemed to be prone to.

You approached them with such ease, light on your feet even with a tactical vest being weighted over by a duffle bag, black and in pristine condition. You turned to wave at the pilots and whoever had accompanied you one last time, walking until you were faced with Price. The tilt and smile you gave was innocent, taking the hand Price gave you and shaking it firmly, still smiling.

"It's nice to see you again, Captain," you spoke with respect.

Your voice was soft - perhaps too gentle for a battle-scarred and hardened soldier in the SAS - and would be easily missed between hardy men.

"Winter, welcome, " he returned with a nod, a smile hidden under his thick mustache and wrinkled eyes squinted in recognizable joy. "Meet the team."

He moved, facing his Task Force with his head held high - pride, Ghost could tell he felt proud of his little, dysfunctional family - and let them greet you. "Soap and Gaz," his head cocked towards the smiling men, the Scot and Brit fighting the urge to swarm you with a warm welcome.

Soap, the Scottish, SAS sergeant, shook your hand, feeling the significant difference in size between you both. He dwarfed you by a head, standing sharp and tall with the same boyish smirk and boisterous personality that drew people in: "Soap MacTavish, nice t'meet ya, Winter."

Gaz, the olive-skinned man followed after Soap, voice silky soft with his softer British accent than Price. He shook your hand with a similarly boyish smile, shorter than Soap, but still standing over you. He shook your hand with more finesse, gentler than his brother:

"Gaz Garrick, a pleasure, Winter."

A masked man with gentle, caring green eyes stepped into the place Soap and Gaz were previously in, gloved hands moving in swift gestures. He was signing to you, perhaps he was mute or simply preferred signing over talking.

"Roach, he signs," Price cautioned you, watching your reaction to the young sergeant.

They all were, wanting to gauge your expression at the news that one of your new teammates would use BSL. Although most knew the basics, complicated words being a bit more complicated to learn, they wanted to know whether you'd ridicule Roach for his choice or do nothing of it. It was the kind of protection that grew within the team, a family protects their own.

Your head tilted right, eyes wide as a smile stretched your cheeks, you raised your own hands and greeted the mute sergeant, Hi Roach, it's nice to meet you. He practically beamed, hands moving to shape each letter in a quick sequence, matching the pace of your sign, somehow too quick for the rest of the team to catch. You know BSL, I haven't seen anyone with fluent BSL in a while, his mask wrinkled with the smile that spread over his lips.

I have a friend who was born mute, learned it to talk to her.

They watched your silent conversation, understanding a few snips here and there, but the rest seemed to pass on quickly. Now, they knew you'd do fine with Roach, both being so fluent in BSL (Ghost doesn't remember finding any notion of your language skills in your file, perhaps some information was withheld by you or someone, or you hadn't bothered telling anyone of your fluency since most soldiers spoke fine with their rumbling voices).

After he pulled away, the last member left was Ghost, his tall, towering figure that stood over you like an impenetrable wall of muscle. He was silent, eerily so that you'd beat that most privates on base would shit their pants if they met him.

"Ghost," were his only words, a curt nod and a glare before he left, his back so broad that the shadow he cast on the cemented ground stretched on and on like a beast in hiding. His voice was deep and gravy when he spoke his name, his callsign was like the summons of a demon, a Ghost.

"Don't mind him, L.T's like that ta everyone. He'll warm up to ya," Soap promised, strutting to your side, and slinging an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to him. "How 'bout I show ya round? You'll be bunkin' with Roach, that fine with ya?"

Roach reaffirmed his testament when you turned to him, asking him if it were alright with him, having to share his barrack when he'd been sleeping alone for a while.

I'm fine, I'll finally have a roommate to brag about, his shoulders shook with a muddled chuckle.

Next

Tag list (reply here if you want to be tagged): @lauraliisa @iirosietumbles @thefairybird @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @tayaisback @deadpoetsandhoney @ghost-reine @raidenmylove @sollucifer @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @mandythemint @static-knight @suzuyamitsuki @rk111 @shuttlelauncher81 @discowizard88 @v1naco @imjustabebeh2003 @tbrfic @hotchlover @mstosi

[voxofthevoid]

Shibuya Swap Wednesday #4. A surprisingly tame bit this time—Gojou blowing a double-dong, with some emotions thrown in. I wanted to post belly mouth rimming, but I didn't get that far in time.

The fic is now over 38k, and while I'm on the last Section A (alt!Yuuji/canon!Gojou) chapter, it's also Chapter 6. This will...probably end with less than 10 chapters?

Satoru’s well aware that Fushiguro Toji left him with an appreciation for pure physical power that reflects in his own body and his tastes in other people’s bodies. His Yuuji is no slouch in that department, but this one’s clearly added well over ten kilos of pure muscle to that.

There are so many things you could do to a body like that, with a body like that.

The scars keep drawing his eyes, not just the gutting curve across the belly that still makes Satoru’s throat grow tight and hot in memory, but also the ones on Yuuji’s face, fascinating and more since the moment Satoru first saw them. They’re not curse scars like the three on his torso, just mundane lines of thick tissue. They’d be normal if not for the implications of why those alone remain on Yuuji’s body when he has a powerful reverse cursed technique. Satoru’s skin ate even old, worn scars after the first time he beat death. He can think of a thing or two that’d make a body like Yuuji’s cling to old marks, and none of them are pleasant.

They add a little something to Yuuji’s face though—a harshness that his Yuuji lacks, even when his genial expression hardens into unflinching determination. It’s also simply age; his cheeks have hollowed, and the lines of his face are sharper, from the cutting curve of his jaw to the deep set of his forehead. The kind of face you could cut your lips on.

Satoru does just that, leaning all the way over Yuuji to wake him with a kiss—chaste and sweet, his lips dragging from his cheek to his jaw. Light stubble scrapes his mouth.

Yuuji makes a low noise and doesn’t wake.

“You shouldn’t trust me so much,” Satoru murmurs, already withdrawing. “Who knows what guys like me would do to a pretty man like you?”

Said pretty man continues to sleep peacefully.

Satoru finds himself in a bit of a dilemma. There’s a lot of Yuuji and limited time. Sure, that kiss didn’t wake him, but Satoru’s sure Yuuji won’t sleep through everything he wants. He’s got to prioritize.

And in the end, it’s a tough choice between the strong stomach with that leering scar in its middle and the two flaccid cocks a little further down, and Satoru opts for the poison he’s yet to taste.

They look deceptively harmless like this, as if they didn’t tear Satoru open in a dozen different ways yesterday.

He cups them, keeping an eye on Yuuji’s face to see if he wakes. There’s nothing, though his breath stutters when Satoru starts fondling his cocks in earnest. They’re a hefty handful. Strange too, the shape a disconcerting blend of familiar and not. Satoru’s used to this Yuuji on the whole evoking that feeling, but this is a little different. His hand knows how a cock should feel in its grasp, and this isn’t that; there’s a disconnect between what his mind knows and what his flesh expects. It’s a novel feeling, not unpleasant—certainly kinder on his body than being impaled on these things.

Satoru replaces his hand with his lips when the cocks start to stir, wrapping his hand just under the head so he can guide both into his mouth. He’s greedy too, and he wants them like this, their soft lengths nestled together on his tongue. And it’s there again, that peculiar dissonance. Satoru holds it in his mouth as delicately as he’s holding Yuuji’s flesh.

Said flesh starts to thicken on his tongue, filling with blood.

And Yuuji’s stirring too, his brows furrowing and lips quivering. He makes a noise, some throaty thing that might have been a word. He turns his head to the side with another quiet noise, and Satoru sucks him a little harder, his lips sealed around the base of the cocks. It’s a notable stretch even now, what with Yuuji’s cocks connecting to his groin in a shape that’s nothing like anything Satoru’s swallowed down, but for now, he can keep both sheathed in his mouth. He devotes himself to enjoying that while he can, thrusting his tongue between the hardening lengths and pulling back to suckle wetly on both heads, and then takes them in deep, again, working his tongue and hollowing his cheeks as they get bigger and bigger, threatening to do a lot worse than just choke him.

Fingers find his hair, their grip surprisingly gentle.

He realizes why when Yuuji speaks, voice husky with sleep: “Satoru, what time…” A thick swallow, a hazy blink. Then a four-eyed gaze, bright and wide. “Ah, Satoru.”

There’s a difference, Satoru realizes. It’s the same name that Yuuji said. His name. And it’s not the first time either that Yuuji spoke of his Satoru, even while addressing Satoru himself, but there in that moment, when Yuuji thought he was talking to that kid waiting for him in his own world, he said Satoru’s name with an indescribable something in his voice—something beyond sound, beyond cadence.

Something that makes Satoru shiver, deep in his bones.

He lets Yuuji’s cocks pop out of his mouth, licking his lips and letting them curve when he catches all four of Yuuji’s eyes drop to them. “Four in the afternoon, almost. Why, you got somewhere to be?”

“Huh?” It visibly takes Yuuji a moment to realize which question Satoru’s answering. “Oh. No, nowhere. Keep going.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Satoru drawls before lapping at the twin heads, dragging it along one slit before dipping it into the other. They don’t quite taste the same. It’s not a difference Satoru can put into words, but it’s there, haunting his tongue.

Yuuji’s hand stays in his hair, idle pressure. His cocks are all the way hard now, as if Yuuji waking was the catalyst. Satoru likes how their girth strains his fist, but he’s still left grappling with the mechanics of how to blow them without poking a hole in his cheek—or throat.

“One at a time,” Yuuji suggests like he can read Satoru’s mind. “I’m patient.”

“Are you?” Satoru asks, scanning all of Yuuji. He is remarkably relaxed, and he was pretty patient earlier, taking his sweet time ruining Satoru. And that’s just it—patient and violent aren’t mutually exclusive when it comes to this man.

“Very,” Yuuji murmurs, the word pitched like a promise. His hand drifts down to briefly cup Satoru’s face, thumb swiping over his damp lips. “You have a pretty mouth, Satoru. Use it.”

Heat bites into Satoru’s spine, serrated and seductive.

He uses his pretty mouth.

And he does intend to take Yuuji’s advice, but then he catches sight of how the heads look poking out of his fist, red and a little wet, and he can’t help it, the greed flaring as he takes them both into his mouth. There’s an exasperated noise from above, and Satoru stares up at Yuuji as his lips are forced to stretch achingly around the combined girth of those cocks. They weigh down his tongue and fill his mouth, and this time, the sensation isn’t just dissonant, it’s oddly distressing, like his mouth wants them out. Satoru doesn’t indulge that impulse, but he takes a moment to study it, prodding at Yuuji’s cocks absently with his tongue and letting them dig into his cheeks at different angles. The effect is the same, mostly—a sense of wrongness, like he’s overly full.

“Having fun?” Yuuji asks, a gratifying note of strain in his voice.

Satoru hums his assent, letting the cocks slide out. He works his jaw, which pops lightly. Yuuji tugs at his hair, and Satoru’s not sure whether that’s meant as encouragement or admonishment, but he’s diving back in anyway, and he does stick to just one cock this time, cupping the other against his cheek out of some nagging sense of fairness. It’s an interesting sensation, one cock filling his mouth while the other slides against his cheek, and then the cockhead is prodding at the back of his throat, making him swallow convulsively, and Satoru suppresses his gag reflex with the ease of long practice, swallowing Yuuji all the way to the base.

The cock pressed against his face seems to throb. Satoru grips it tighter, strangling the urge to stroke it. Not yet, maybe not at all. He wants that in his mouth too.

Blowing Yuuji is pretty straightforward after that, a typical affair of tongue and throat and a hint of teeth. Yuuji’s calm for most of it, only his heavy breathing giving away how affected he is. The teeth earn a noise, more surprise than displeasure, and he groans when Satoru laps at the spot he touched his teeth to, little kitten licks that earn him a gaze hot enough to scorch his skin. Satoru reacts the only way he can, making a show of sucking on the head, wet and sloppy, till spit slicks his chin and precome coats his tongue, and he knows, from the fingers flexing in his hair and the cock throbbing in his fist and the eyes flaying him open, that Yuuji wants to shove him down and make him choke, but he doesn’t, playing at patience as promised.

And that just means Satoru has to take matters into his own hands, driving his mouth down roughly enough that the violence of the intrusion makes him choke, his throat a burning constriction. It feels molded to Yuuji’s cock, carving Satoru open in its shape.

“Satoru,” Yuuji gasps, approval and demand and everything in between packed into that one word.

Satoru gives him what he wants, keeping Yuuji deep in his throat, still and sacred until the lack of oxygen does the work for him, making his throat shudder and convulse around the flesh denying it air. Nails dig into his scalp, pinpricks of pleasant pain that smooth over into something sweeter and gentler as Yuuji eases his grip with an effort Satoru can feel in the air.

It’s disappointing, the sustained control.

[specterings]

Frenchie. Write Frenchie. Please oh please lords above please write Frenchie.

frenchie my beloved <3 nsfw before the cut.

cw / blasphemy (he compares u to a god/calls you his god), oral (recieving), fingering(ftm sec.), ftm &. amab section. terms used for ftm: hole, clit

something abt frenchie and Worship just makes so much sense yk? i can just Picture It.

hes rubbing your feet and up your legs after a long day, hes constantly whispering how absolutely divine you look, how he wants to worship you, how he’d spend the rest of his life praying on his knees if you were his god.

in a way, you are. its his favorite position, on his knees, between your legs, looking up at you like his creator and absolution, like he’s a devotee at your altar and has married himself to you like a nun.

frenchie is a lot of things but hes not, and never will be, a selfish lover. hes 100% a giver, wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck and kissing the skin there, huffing when you dont immediately turn around and pay any attention to him.

not thay he minds eating it from the back, he just loves to see your face.

groping at your hips and whining until you finally turn, kissing him while he practically humps against your thigh like some kind of dog.

“so good, all for me, yes?” as hes sinking to his knees right in the kitchen, eyes locked on yours as he mouths at your stomach and hips, down to your thighs while he palms them. keeping up kisses and nips and licks as he unbuttons your pants and slides them down until its just your boxers in front of his face.

ftm…

no force on this earth or the next absolutely devouring you, eyes practically rolling back at the smell and taste of you, “tellement bon, tu as tellement bon goût.” nonsensical murmurs as he laps over your clit and works skilled fingers into your hole so he can use his mouth to kiss over stretch marks he can reach without drawing himself too far away from your lower half, laving his tongue over small scars and ‘imperfections’ on your skin, practically hearts in his eyes.

he shoves your pants and boxers all the way off of one leg and throws it over his shoulder to get better access, burying himself between your thighs, nose bumping your clit as he crooks and spreads his fingers with the skill of a man who’s learned your body like his own, and like one whos done this many times, but you dont think about it.

whimpers like a spoiled brat when you tug his hair and pull him back, bur it dies off when you drag him up for a kiss and meet him half way. hes quickly pulling back away to put his mouth on your once more.

when you finally cum, he keeps coaxing you through it until he’s pushed away by you, grin victorious upon his slick, wet face, and eyes searching, seeing if you desire anything else despite his hard cock pressing against his jeans, his devotion unwavering.

amab…

hes immediately trying to swallow you down to the base, gagging himself and damn near pouting as you guide him off, his calloused hands stroking your hardening cock to help you along. placing hot, open mouthed kisses along the shaft, nuzzling at the base where it meets your balls.

“such a pretty cock,” he murmurs, leaning his head on your thigh as he strokes it, eyes completely entranced as he places kisses to where your thigh meets your groin, over stretch marks and scars and beauty marks. nosing his face under your cock and letting it rest their as his thumb rubs over the head, eyes fluttering from the scent of you.

precum drooling on his cheek, making a string from it to your cock that snaps when he pulls back to tap the tip on his tongue before he sucks, using his hand to stroke what he cant yet reach while his throat gets warmed up. the other hand fondles your balls, and when he feels them start to seize up at your cock begin to swell he jacks you off over his grinning face.

when you finally cum, he keeps coaxing you through it until he’s pushed away by you, grin victorious upon his slick, wet face, coated in your cum, and eyes searching, seeing if you desire anything else despite his hard cock pressing against his jeans, his devotion unwavering.

[orkbutch]

here from twitter because my curiousity is killing me. how does kelly's robo dick work. what are the mechanics at play here. can they switch their dick's out? where does the cum come from? i have so many questions 😭

Kelly doesnt know (and neither do I). They got drunk and took a bunch of ket, and one of the few body modders in Dead Australia who can do complex bio-mechanical hybrid modifications made and installed their cock.

What Kelly knows is this:

- its all his own skin sowed over a biomech hybrid cock that probably has synthetic meat within it; his motorbike is also a biomech hybrid (a Hog) and he figures his cock is similar technology. He can't switch it out; the machine goes deep within his body, filling the cavity where his uterus and ovaries were.

- his blood is inside the machine cock and helps it run; turning the cock on and off partly involves opening and closing a blood valve.

- the cum is not piss, but might have a little piss in the mix. It doesn't smell piss like, it smells slightly metallic and sweetish.

- He can control the size but hes given his dick stretch marks from pushing that, and he Can tear it. (He has torn open the original surgery scar that runs along the bottom and needed it resown, but he got that done at a Hog mechanic, so the scar is pretty rough and keloided now. He made it too big.)

What I know that Kelly doesn't know:

- the cum is blood that is processed within the mechanics of the cock sitting around his navel, where his uterus was, to separate the plasma and mix it with water and various other chemicals from within his body to make a creamy white substance. Its a little like the body drawing from your blood supply to make breast milk, except its a machine doing it and there isnt lactose involved. Mostly protein, water and fat I'd imagine. Some remaining iron and blood cells may make a warmer cream-white.

The actual mechanics of bio-mechanical hybrid technology in Hog Boyz is not at all science based and is silly fun. Don't worry about it :)