#how did the body being in the cage even work?
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dragons-stories-hoard · 1 day ago
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Okay but I don't think it should be day one of Merlin being in Camelot, cause then frankly nothing is stopping Morgana from going all game of thrones on Uther and Arther.
Might I suggest, they come back when they're kids? Hear me out. Morgana may have been messed up and evil but even she wasn't going around killing squishy baby-faced ten year Olds. So she's going to hesitate at trying to kill Arthur because he's a child, and vice versa for Arthur and co seeing Morgana. Plus none of them have the strength (in body or magic) to start challenging Uther for the throne so they can instigate chamge, but theres time where they cant change much but they can think and plan for the future. So they have time to deal with their feelings at seeing old enemies again but they're friends still. (None realize they aren't the only one who time traveled). Maybe it's soon after Morgana moved to Camelot, so her sudden anger at Uther and temper can be attributed to a grieving child.
Arthur and Gwen both know how Morgana turns evil so they're looking out for signs of her magic and hey look at that she's being given sleeping draughts even as a young child. And they realize Uther would still kill this baby-faced Morgana if he knew, and they know how her fear of him turned her to hate everyone. They see their friend as a scared grieving child and want to change her fate. So they start trying to assure her without directly letting her know about the magic. Meanwhile Morgana is seeing Arthur stand up to his father on her behalf, and promising her he will protect her even from Uther if he has to. And she can't remember if he'd done that before, thinks maybe she forgot in all her fear and anger. And she has time to realize she may have had reason to fear but she never did give Gwen and Arthur a chance to be good. She was the one who turned on them first.
MEANWHILE Merlin has much better control of his magic because he already has so much knowledge of the old religion and it's language from the previous life. He works harder on controlling and improving his magic and skills from a young age. He is determined to fight fate and save everyone so he needs to be better stronger more knowledgeable. He starts taking trips to the druids under the guise of "taking goods from the village to trade" (he does trade but keeps the fact that it's with druids to himself and maybe Will since he'd want to come with his friend sometimes). He learns from books and people he had no chance to learn from before, building on his knowledge. He looks into death magic and high priestesses, knowing Nimueh will eventually target him and Arthur and Gaius and his mother. He thinks ahead to ways to keep Lancelots sacrifice from happening or even ways to bring someone back from the veil without tearing it if he must. He thinks of Elyan and looks into ways to heal unhealable wounds, thinks of Morgana and plans to kill Morgause before she can put the spell on the kingdom and use Morgana as the center. He looks up obscure poisons and remedies, looks for Protective enchantments and healing spells he can layer into the knights armor and clothes the second he sees them again. He takes time to hunt down traffickers and cage fighting rings to destroy them before Lancelot or Gwaine ever have a chance to be forced into fights to the death again. He looks for rumors of the last dragonlord so he can free Kilgarrah and hatch Aithusa without Leon ever having to be revived from the flames.
Due to his frequent travels, whichever of the wandering knights try to find their young friend early think they got the wrong village whenever they arrive in Ealdor. (Gwen Arthur and Morgana are the only ones who went before amd they don't exactly have a reasonable excuse to go there to see their friend now. They have to wait).
I bet Elyan was first to try to find Merlin early. He was closest and he started his travels pretty early, thinks he can suggest Merlin start the apprenticeship sooner but he can't seem to find Merlins village (he found it but Merlin was away learning death magic or whatever). However this time on his travels Elyan stays in touch with his family, returns occasionally to help with the forge, tries to talk his sister out of getting a job at the castle to her confusion (she's stubborn and by then is determined to stop Morgana from turning evil due to fear so she does not take this well).
Leon sees Uthers reign, remembers Arthur's and how much better it was amd how much happier he had been with all of Arthur's changes, and he starts subtly backing Arthur more. Talking Arthur's suggestions up to Uther, giving Arthur support earlier. He's Arthur's knight before Uthers this time around and he is disgusted by some of Uthers choices having seen the consequences. Having seen a better way of living.
Percival keeps hearing rumors of the fabled Emrys being alive, making moves, accessing powerful magics. He lives near and was partially raised by druids, so he hears these whispers and with future insight is able to piece together Arthur is the OAFK. He starts training.
Lancelot honestly knows the least of them (he died first man) so he's just gonna show up to Camelot earlier than before and do his best to support his friends and keep Arthur and Merlin alive.
Gwaine saw the sorcerer saving Camelots troops in that final battle, and he never had strong opinions about magic before but now he thinks about it and realizes if they allowed magic it would save so many lives. Hell, it would remove so many enemies. And he's always had a rather pushy relationship with Arthur so he can manage to nudge him towards being okay with magic without crossing the line and making Arthur think he's gonna commit treason. Plus he'd love to see young awkward child Merlin (sadly he also arrives in Ealdor while Merlin is away, probably learning to shape-shift or smt).
So when Merlin finally realizes it's time to head to Camelot, he tells his mother he wishes to apprentice with his uncle to learn medicine (she felt he was able to hide his gifts this time and didn't feel the need to send him away to protect him). He arrives amd when all the knights of the round table end up arriving much sooner than before he assumes it's ripple effects of all the stuff he'd been doing with the druids and his self imposed quests. Leon, Gwen, Arthur and Morgana just assume they did something to affect some policy of Uthers so they shrug off any changes as well. I think Lancelot is the only one who's really confused/concerned with all the shifts because it's making it harder for him to help Merlin dammit.
I think Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Elyan never got the chance to find out about Merlins magic but the others did so everyone is working off different levels of knowledge and it's chaos cause they all assume they know more than everyone else.
Merlin is so used to working alone he's hiding his magic from everyone and he's losing so much sleep trying to deal with threats before they come near his people but the others are GOING NEAR THE THREATS ITS FINE. At least they're more prone to believe him this time and less fond of >insert villain of the week<
The others are remembering almost these threats like "Jesus Christ how did this get solved last time?" Everyone is trying to keep Merlin from drinking the poisoned chalice, Leon is ready to go searching for the flower himself or go with Arthur or hell, even ready to sneak into the dungeons to talk to Arthur to get the flower for Merlin himself (everyone is a lot angrier at Uther for his refusal to allow anyone to get the flower to save Merlin despite him not knowing its anything but a simple task, even Morgana who is hesitant/still kinda mad at Merlin is pissed) (this makes her think on Merlins POV more because frankly if she was scared to reveal her magic, of course Merlin would be. He had even less protections, Uther was okay with allowing him to die when he thought Merlin had saved his son AGAIN.) So maybe she is a bit sympathetic to the man who killed her. Who was once her friend. Because she's seeing how much bullshit he had to deal with in keeping Arthur alive and now she knows he has magic she's realizing he was the one protecting her and Arthur and the kingdom long before she knew about her own magic. Because how else did these things get solved when it wasn't Arthur or herself (she is the first to put together just how much Merlin did for all of them tbh).
One of them walks in on Edwin (idk if that was his name the cure all ills guy) attacking Merlin and helps dispatch him while Merlin is unconscious and it scares the hell out of Merlin that they fought a sorcerer when he was out of commission, while whoever came in wad terrified at seeing/hearing Merlin Crack his skull on the wall from Edwin throwing him and seeing him lying there. They see how much danger Merlin was/is putting himself in to protect them and it scares them.
Merlin is definitely losing sleep trying to stay ahead of all the threats and his friends who keep HEADIMG TOWARDS DANGER so like. He's exhausted and his friends are seeing how tired amd clumsy he is with new eyes once they know he's the one dispatching threats when they're not looking.
Also frankly all of them are hit hard with seeing their friends so young, seeing them before everything happened. And they're all definitely way more emotional about it and I feel like as the youngest they're all so protective of this baby faced Merlin because gods above he was so small and youthful and energetic how was he ever this skinny? (It's jarring for Percival especially he didn't meet Merlin until he'd been a fighting magical threats to Camelot for a few years, and if he thought Merlin was small before he's downright concerned now). (Doesn't help Merlin is worse at taking care of himself this time) (Merlin is as cheery as he was in early seasons because hey this is when shit was easy, and the moral dilemmas were way less intense and he gets to see all his friends and Morgana isn't evil and he can protect them all this is great! He loves spending time with them when hes not working or protecting them and he will make the most of this time). (The rest of them are like wtf because they are comparing baby Merlin to end season Merlin and realizing somewhere along the way he lost that cheer and enthusiasm and they're like we gotta protect the small and they are all working themselves into protective flurries over Merlin and being so nice to him).
Not gonna write a full fic but had to get my thoughts out. This is a fun au and it would be fascinating to keep track of who knows what amd when people come back and how everyone tries to deal with threat of the week or when they each even realize "oh shit that person tried to kill me!" Cause I guarantee they didn't realize some of the threats were threats the first time around.
I think it would be insanely funny if after Arthur’s death everyone returns back in time to the place they were the day Merlin arrived in Camelot. But like, everyone thinks they are the only ones who has returned. We see it all from Merlin’s pov, who’s traumatised and wondering why the fuck Arthur is so much sweeter to him this time around and keeps saying ‘thank you’. He wonders why Lancelot shows up earlier, why all of a sudden Gwaine is there three years too early, saying he got hurt in a tavern bawl and needs a physician. He wonders why Leon keeps pretending like he didn’t just accidentally see Merlin do magic. Why Gwen keeps giving him these knowing looks. And why Morgana doesn’t seem as afraid as she used to when she was figuring out that she had magic. Everyone is trying their best to change history for the better, thinking they are alone with this duty... and then one day when uther is dead and they are sitting around the round table, merlin steps forward and is like: ‘I need to confess that I have magic, but also that I have returned from the future.’ And everyone just whips around and is like ‘YOU TOO??!’ And then they realise that they’ve all returned and wasted their time thinking they were alone.
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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tonycries · 9 months ago
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Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.
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Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.
Word count. 3.0k
A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.
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Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing. 
It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.
Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now. 
But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.
---
It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.
Was Satoru running late on a mission today?  
It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.
Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.
Wait.
Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?
“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day. 
Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?
“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence. 
Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step. 
Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.
Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.
There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru. 
Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair. 
Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing. 
“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance. 
“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.
In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.
“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.
You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.
Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.
Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up. 
A shiver runs down your spine.
“Toru…you okay?”
“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer. 
“Satoru.”
The simple call of his name sealed your fate.
The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed. 
Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.
“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?
“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?
“What?” 
“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt. 
And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth. 
Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.
Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”
“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..
Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.
You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy. 
You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours. 
Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.
He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.
Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection. 
Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.
Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue. 
In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?
Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.
As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.
“T-Toru…are you okay?” 
But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.
A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you. 
You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.
“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.
You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs. 
You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.
“I want-”
You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core. 
You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive. 
“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”
“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed. 
Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.
It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.
“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”
Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor. 
“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle. 
Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies. 
With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.
If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.
Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.
“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine. 
“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.
Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”
You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally. 
“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure. 
You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt. 
Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.” 
You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.
His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy. 
“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.
Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.
“One- more.” he moans.
Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.” 
“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts. 
You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed. 
Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.
Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick. 
Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out. 
“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets. 
As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.
You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully. 
Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.
Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out. 
Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half. 
Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive. 
Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night. 
Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore. 
“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.
You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.
Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru. 
The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?
That’s when you black out.
Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.
Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch. 
What happened.
“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.
“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?
“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”
“...wow.”
“Wow.” 
“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”
“...”
A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”
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A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.
Plagiarism not authorized.
11K notes · View notes
theinheriteddutchess · 4 hours ago
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Why does bucky even think that letting her hear him have sex will do anything to improve situation does he think she's going to be jealous or intrigued by his stamina??
Her mom wanted to protect her😭😭
It's weird he's the beast and she's caged up😕 he's going at this all won't, but he's arrogant and hardened his heart. He needs to learn.
"His body looks like a work of art, and the lighting makes him almost look silvery. Frozen by the everlasting winter." I thought that sounded beautiful and dad it right in front of me.
… Okay who says he hasn't father's a shitload of bastards?! Maybe he's infertile… Maybe only she's can bear him an heir!
He he, her burn was good to his ego, he needs it.
Ok so his pull out game is strong (could still impregnate someone though dummy Bucky).
And he immediately transforms? Hmm why? because his wolf knows she needs comfort? Wait, he is in the cage? Suddenly? Okay how, magic?
If she's smelly he might not want to touch her 🙂‍↔️ and why is Steve so mean toom is he unfriending his people also magically, with his mood, like he did the lands. Disappointed in you Steven!
"“My name is Steve by the way,” curtly you nod. “Things aren’t always what they seem, we’re quite appreciative of you being here with us.” “It shows in your hospitality,” " 😂😂 exactly, what a turd.
So Wanda is her "adoptive" father's child, why dislikes him, but she now serves Bucky… Why? He's cruel and wanda doesn't seem to be so far. Can we really trust her though?
Why would Malik or her mother even agree to not even touch though married? Was her mother only going with the man to save her child? (Oh and also you say her birth started the winner but I thought it was Bucky's doing?)
I now see that patch of grass as whatever's left of his heart😌
Good job Bucky, you wooed her, we've made it, story is over *claps sarcastically slow" what a dick
And those people laughing at her for falling, no one's nice there, she's supposed to be their queen and savior right, fuck them.
The fact he has to make clear there are no fluids on the nightgowns🤦🏻‍♀️ you whore
Oooh… Well honey, you're around Bucky now, maybe you were frozen too until the right moment🤭…. Or she's simply underweight, maybe I need to stop seeing signs everywhere😂
I'm more intrigued then ever!!
Trying to Save Me, Part 2
Summary: What is Bucky hiding?
Pairings: Dark King!Bucky Barnes X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit detailing of living out in the wild, dark!Bucky, taunting, continued feeling of ownership, touching over the clothes without consent, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 6.1K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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You groan, trying to straighten your back up a bit more. There is nothing comfortable about this — this cage. He is a monster. Humiliated you. Inspected you, in front of people. And then if that wasn’t enough, he threw you in this cage right outside his sleeping quarters. Although, he hadn’t been doing much sleeping. You didn’t see anyone go in his room, so you’re led to believe they sat there, and waited. Waited on him.
Waited on some vile human to go into that room, and into his bed, while they serviced him. Periodically throughout the night the grunts, slaps, screams, moans, and gods know what else drifted under his door. You have heard people carry on and have sex many times. In a world where you have been a nomad, and lived in poorly insulated villages, it just went with the territory. But this is different.
No, you aren’t jealous. But — if you are destined to be with him, how can he be so cruel as to make you listen as he beds other women? All night long. A line of whores. Concubines. All for him. You would not be given the same opportunity. You were looked at as his incubator. You couldn’t be sullied with another man’s cock or their seed. Only the king can have that part of you.
Oh great, the grand finale commences, and you try and remove yourself from here. All your time alone, running away had all been in vain. You promised to stay away from the castle, and then was led directly to the beast within. You didn’t know the reason why you had to stay away then, but judging on the brute’s words to you, you could guess some of it. Your mom wanted more of a choice for you. Not one that you were forced into.
You’d rather hear the exact prophecy, and how you fit into it before you let this whirlwind suck you up. It would be easy to go into despair here. Easy to think that all you were meant for is one let him take you, and fill you up. You were in a fucking cage wearing a metal mask, and only seem to be here for his every tortured whim. His pet. He’s disgusting. He has you caged up like an animal. Nothing more than a common beast.
His door creaks open, and you scurry towards the back of the cage. Trying to hide in the shadows, but the pig knows you're in here. Where else is there for you to go? The early morning light catches on his pale white skin, and shines over his ample body. If he wasn’t such a foul human, he’d almost be beautiful. As naked as the day he was born, and carved by the cruel gods. His body looks like a work of art, and the lighting makes him almost look silvery. Frozen by the everlasting winter.
He takes tentative steps closer, watching as your eyes dip below his waist, and you stare at his rock hard length. How the hell did someone have that much energy? He had already finished, and spilled his seed on or in whatever whores he had in there, and now he’s swollen again. Bucky smirks at you as he turns to the side, giving you a different angle to show just how massive he was, but you turn away, pointing your head up into the air. You wouldn’t let him see you break.
“Like what you see?”
“A small little prick?” You didn’t care if he interpreted that as himself or his cock. The only large thing you saw was his gigantic ego.
“I may be a prick, but you and I both know there’s nothing little about me. You think your sweet little cunt can handle me?” You want to hurl. It isn’t uncommon for women in this world to just be with a man so she had a certain level of living. Being with the king would give you a rich life, but it wouldn’t be good.
“You have a sharp little tongue for a stupid girl that still ended up on my web. I would devour you, Lumi,” you roll your eyes over to him, and he bends at the knees, squatting. Both his hands are on your cage and you glare at him. “You don’t know your words, little one? You were a bastard in the snow. Lumi is perfect for you.”
“I have a name.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“No,” names held power. You didn’t have much left, but you wouldn’t give him this. Whatever you had left to keep from him, you would. He didn’t need to know all your secrets.
“Lumi it is then, winter wolf,” you keep your face neutral, trying not to stare at him wrapping his hand around his cock. He gives the rod a long slow stroke, while watching you intently. “You really aren’t looking. I don’t spill in them, that’ll be left just for you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Maybe not now, but you will,” he stands quickly. Going down the hall. Completely naked, and you hear him chuckle. Moments later three women come out of his bedroom looking ragged, but satiated. You didn’t understand what the big deal with sex was. All it meant was the possibility you could bring a child into this cold world. Bucky came out here just to annoy you. He didn’t need anything, he just wanted you to see him fully naked. You wouldn’t break easily, if at all.
You roll your eyes as he starts moaning again. There was still at least one woman in there, and he puts on a show for you. He’s vocal. More vocal than most men that try and stifle their sounds. Bucky left everything on full display. If he is trying to make you jealous, it isn't working. It pisses you off.
He goes harder and faster than he had most of the night. Could hear his skin slapping on hers. Pounding in her. Ruthless. Shameless. And then he ends with the most put on sound from the previous ones. And just as soon as it started, it ends. She even walks of the bedroom. Staring at you trapped in front of him before she wipes under her eyes, and leaves you be.
Relaxing your back, you slump down into the cage. Maybe now that they are gone, you could get some sleep. You didn’t have to hear all those cries of painful pleasure. You wouldn’t have to hear Bucky’s grunts, and — you couldn’t think about some of those sounds. The way they had made you feel. And the questions you had rushing through your mind.
Settling back, you get a lick to your hand, and you jerk it away. Turning to peer at that stupid mutt with his silvery eyes, “You traitor. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here,” the beast wines as he lays on his belly. Inching his body closer to nudge his nose on you.
“How do you even get in here?” Stupid animal almost looks apologetic, staring at you with his human-like eyes. “You led me to my prison. I’m to be a broodmare for an animal. Eww,” you wipe your hands on your jeans after the wolf sneezes on you. “That’s rude, ya know?”
Sighing, you finally give him a few head scratches, and he gives his approval with low rumbling growls. You don’t know where this beast came from, or what his interest in you is. “Get out of here. Get!” You jump to your feet, glowering at the man that brought you to this hellscape. You hold a hand over the wolf’s head, and he bares his teeth to the blonde man, growling.
“We’ll, aren’t you two just cute? What are you going to do about this, girly?” His mouth turns up into an evil sneer. “You’re in a physical cage.”
“Obviously, you psycho. What does that even mean?” He snaps his fingers, and motions his head to the side. The wolf’s growls soften, but he starts to leave your cage, keeping his eyes on blondie. Getting to a different hallway of the castle, he runs off, leaving you only with him. “You reek.”
“The accommodations in my cage didn’t really allow me to bathe.”
“I suppose your stench repelled most men away from you out there, hmm?” You didn’t have to answer his questions. It’s not like baths were readily available out there. Not when you’re a loner. He goes towards the lock of the cage, and you’re scrambling back into a corner like a scared mouse again. “What is wrong with you?”
“Don’t touch me, I’ll tell your king!”
“Princess, I have no plans of touching you. However, I am taking you to Wanda. She’s going to do something about your smell. You’ll have dinner with the king tonight, and he doesn't particularly care for his future queen to look and smell like a wildling. I promise you no harm will come to you. Unless you choose not to bathe; the king will be furious about you joining his court looking and smelling like you do. Remember last night? Having yourself so exposed? He’ll do that and more. Come now.”
He doesn’t offer you a hand, or any assistance, just stands with the door to your cage open. “I’m not a babysitter,” huffing, you walk towards him, “My god, what is that you reek of?”
You scowl as you walk past him, “Your incredible accommodations here. I was in the dungeon with a wolf keeping me warm, and then I was in the cage. Even though I’m a wildling, I know how to keep myself clean.”
“Why?” If it wasn’t for his expression, you’d think he was making fun of you again, but there’s a sense of sincerity. “I mean…”
“Don’t sound so apologetic, soldier, you’ve told me I smelled bad in five different ways. While you’d think a smell would repulse a man, if they’re hard up for a woman, it won’t stop them,” the man looks down at the floor as you walk, “Not to mention I hunted for my food, if I smelled, the animals would know I was coming,” the two of you walk in silence. The castle laid out nearly like a maze, or maybe it’s because you’re used to the open. Walls and hallways confused you.
“My name is Steve by the way,” curtly you nod. “Things aren’t always what they seem, we’re quite appreciative of you being here with us.”
“It shows in your hospitality,” he lets out the most unattractive snort you could ever imagine. “If you want me to believe you’re appreciative here, you have an odd way of showing it.”
“Let me ask you this,” he stops just before a grand door that you could only assume is where Wanda will be cleaning you, and making you presentable to the king. “If you were to just sleep in the king’s bed, would you flee?”
“I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than lay next to him.”
“So maybe our hospitality is your fault, and not ours,” he opens the door, and sure enough a woman with beautiful red hair is mulling about preparing a tub for you. Of all the audacity. That it’s your fault that they have treated you like a prisoner. Are you supposed to be grateful for being dragged here, bound, thrown in a dungeon with this fucking mask, and then forced on your knees while everyone stared at your body?
“And maybe it’s your pompous king’s fault for exposing my cunt to everyone,” Wanda gasps, dramatically throwing her hand over her mouth. “And you, you dragged me in here. I have been taught to fear the heart of the kingdoms, and to stay away from your king, and you wonder why I’m sour?”
“Kingdom. The fall of your father was when they were combined. There are no kingdoms anymore, and because of prophecy, we’re in an eternal winter. Only until,” he raises his hand, but Wanda shouts his name. “I’ll be just outside the door to collect you when you’re finished.”
You’re never going to be left alone again. It’s something you just know in your gut that the king will have you fully watched. He’d probably be mounting you like an animal while these people watched. To him you were nothing more than a way to break the curse and give him sons.
“We’re not here to harm you,” the red headed woman says walking up to you. She doesn’t make comments about your scent, just starts undoing your clothes. “I’m here to bathe you,” she responds as you jerk away.
“I am capable of doing that myself,” she smiles. It’s calming, and gentle, and makes you extremely uncomfortable and confused. You didn’t have kindness in this place. You had fear and embarrassment.
“You are the future queen, the one that will take this infernal winter away from us,” everyone keeps saying this, and you are but a normal human. “You can undress yourself if it’ll make you feel better. It’s just us in here. The tub is full of hot water, it’ll feel nice.”
Wanda steps away from you, walking over to a chair, while you turn your back on her, and remove your wildings clothes. There is nothing ladylike about these clothes, especially not now. Trousers and shirts would be a thing of the past, if you were to become the queen, even though you didn’t want to. You wouldn’t give up trying to escape.
“What exactly is this prophecy?” Turning around, you place your arms around your body to walk to the tub. Out there, you weren’t given such luxuries as a bath. Slipping into the water, you sink into the warmth, sighing at just how amazing it feels. Heat wraps around your soreness, and for the first time, you actually feel warm. The chill to your core evaporated.
“The simplified version is the princess from the west, and the prince from the mountains will join together.”
“That doesn’t explain the winter.”
She hums a low tune, one you recognize that your mother sang to you, and your eyes start to close. Being in here is so much better than your cage. “Did you know the day you were born was the day that the snow started?”
You had heard that before. “You also know that the man that paraded around as the king wasn’t your father and he also wasn’t the king?”
Turning around, you glare at her, “Malik was my father. He was the king, not Jarrod. I don’t know who told that vicious lie,” even as the words exit your mouth, you don’t fully believe them. Wanda sighs again, beginning that same song. “I didn’t know they knew that song in the mountains.”
“They don’t,” still gazing at her, you look up and down her body. “You’re staring at one of Malik’s many bastards. He was a pig of a king, it’s why so many of us fled to the mountain. He stole the throne from your real father. Made people believe he was the king in your father’s absence. And when Jarrod returned, he found his betrothed married to him. He told Malik to keep the throne, and the wife as long as he didn’t touch her. He could fuck whatever woman he wanted as long as he didn’t touch her. He failed of course, and some would believe that you belonged to him. Except those feline-like eyes. The eyes of Jarrod.”
You turn back and stare blankly at the hot water. Your eyes are the only reason you had ever doubted your lineage. Malik could play he loved your mother, but you often thought it was for his people to believe it. “So Jarrod remained by the king’s side for what? Why not take my mother away?”
“I assumed it was because he thought he was no longer king, and having a daughter wouldn’t start our nightmare of a winter. Clearly he thought wrong because here we are, and there you are getting cleaned up to bow before your king, and future husband,” she can’t see your face, but you roll your eyes. You are a prisoner. A joke. “Would you like the mask removed?”
“I was told that the mask keeps others from touching me.”
“There’s other ways that the king can mark you as his,” that sounds repulsive.
“Walking around with a swollen belly?” Wanda’s laugh is almost evil, and you turn back around to her. “What?”
“Pregnancy takes too long. No, if you’re being difficult even with a pregnancy he’ll make you wear the mask. You could have another man’s baby in your belly. Marriage wouldn’t be a strong enough bond, your mother was sleeping with Jarrod while married to Malik.”
“I don’t want to know. Sounds like some cruel backwards way of claiming a woman for the mountain people.”
She shrugs, and you know it’s true. An outward mark that would make you Bucky’s, so no one would touch you. And yet, she’s missing a mark, “Where’s your claim?”
“I’m not the one that will be mated to the White Wolf,” you sit up straighter in the tub, forgetting your modesty as you look over her, “What?”
“The white wolf?”
“It’s the king’s nickname. We are mountain people, as you say. His crest is a white wolf. They’re uncommon, but every once in a blue moon they happen. The white wolf is respected in the mountains, and not to be hunted, lest you become the prey. Here,” she stands, and walks towards you. Her hands go around your head, and with a few clicks, she removes the mask from your face, and you moan. Finally getting to look at the damned mask; a wolf.
“There’s worse things than your king.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“The winter is cruel, even more so when you feel the cold in your heart,” someone beats on the door, and you hear Steve clear his throat. “It’s time to get dressed, princess. And time that you accept that Jarrod was your father,” you let modesty disappear as you stand up. Letting Wanda assist you out of the bath, and dry you off. You might not like it here, but you could get used to baths.
She carefully makes you slip into skirt upon skirt. Dressing you up like a doll. You haven’t seen dresses this fine your entire life. Outside of the mountain city, you just survived. Clothing such as this is frivolous. She pulls a dress of fine silk over your head before reaching for a necklace. She wraps the golden chain around your neck before slipping a wicked looking point through the hole. “There. Now, let me do something about your hair.”
She walks you over to a chair, forcing you to stare at your reflection as she pulls and tugs your hair into place. You look ridiculous. “Am I to be nothing more than his frilly doll?”
“What more are you supposed to be?” His equal. You keep your mouth closed because you doubt she’s going to see things your way. In this world you are the savior, but most importantly, you are his.
“And here I am, and still, it’s winter,” Wanda bows as she walks to the door, holding it open for you, and Steve’s eyes wander over her body, but she gives him a coy smile in return. She didn’t care.
Steve motions for you to follow him. Like you have any choice in the matter. “I see you traded the mask for the — necklace. Bucky will much rather look over your face than that creepy thing,” Bucky was the one that ordered you to wear it. “There are people who don’t want Bucky to come into his true — potential.”
The way he speaks, careful with his words. Withholding information, or lying all together. You’re in the waiting part of the hunt. Listen, pay attention, and know your surroundings. “The castle is set up this way to distort people. There’s been people who wander around for hours and never find where they’re going. You having someone with you isn’t just to keep you from escaping, it’s to keep you from being lost.”
There’s so many twists and turning hallways, but there has to be a pattern to it. There has to be a way that people didn’t go insane trying to find their way around, but insanity to you is already happening. Your situation is looking more and more dire. “There’s hallways that lead to nowhere, and doors that open up into a hole. I suggest you not walk too quickly through a door.”
To prove his point, he opens one, and there’s a black pit of nothingness. “Each has varying degrees of depth. But, even the smaller drops will kill you. There’s a reason why the people of the mountain are feared, just getting in the castle doesn’t guarantee you’ll find and overtake the king. It guarantees your demise.”
“You’re so sure of yourself.”
Steve stops beside an opening, and you gasp. Eyes wide as you take the greenery in. “Your father, Jarrod, is the only one that made it in the castle and out of the castle. He was let go, but bore an evil curse to be released. And that’s why we’re here.”
You can’t take your eyes off this place. You’ve never seen this. “So I must bear the weight of what someone else has done, and I wasn’t even born.”
He leans down beside you, his mouth right at your ear, “He wasn’t born either,” turning, you scowl at him. Did he want you to feel sorry for Bucky? Absurd. He wasn’t a prisoner. “He’s just as stuck as you are.”
“How so?”
“You don’t know what it’s like to rule a kingdom. But how far would you go to protect your people?” You didn’t have people.
“He’s trapped me in a castle maze, and exposed me to his court.”
“There’s things you just don’t understand,” rolling your eyes, you start to pull up your skirts, and begin to crawl through the window. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Is it glamoured and I’ll fall to my death?” You pause, looking at him, and he shakes his head no, “I’ve never seen grass before. I want to touch it.”
“You can. With the king. It’s sacred, and only for him and who he invites. You could become poisoned for touching it without his permission.”
“Could?” He shrugs. He’s bluffing. Nothing is going to happen. But then you look again, what if he isn’t lying? What if something worse happens? Everything is untouched. It’s freely open for whoever walks by, and it’s pristine. “Has Bucky?”
“No, the king has not. It’s sacred. Shall we?” Releasing a guffaw, you follow him. More winding hallways, and silence. Having no choice but to trust him completely. “You really know nothing?”
“My parents — Malik, and my mother, told me to stay away from the castle. To keep moving, don’t stay in one location long, don’t fall in love, don’t let a man touch me because men only bring you problems. What else is there to know?” You’re met with silence again. Like the castle, everything is a riddle. Wanda gave more information than most. “Earlier when you knocked on the door, were you interrupting me and Wanda?”
“Why would I do that?” This is the way it’ll be; questions met with a question. You’d rather be quiet and observe the castle, and the people within. “Eventually you get used to it here. The paths.”
“Does the kingdom live here?”
“Some moved here once the snow started to fall and kept growing. Some remain out in the mountains, wild and building cities within. This was the safest place though. Most won’t venture out into the winter. There’s very little daylight, and night time here is cruel,” you would know. You spent many years alone, and unable to sleep at night. Constantly looking over your shoulder, the animals were the least of your worries. “It’s amazing you survived.”
“Is that a compliment, soldier?”
“No. And my name is Steve.”
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Just before dinner Steve came back to the twittering room of females you were in. They were obnoxious. Giggling and asking you about the king’s cock. You didn’t want that thing anywhere near you. You sit motionless while they work on their stupid little crafts of embroidery. Things like that seem so pointless when the world outside was a frozen hell, and yet, they still remain fragile, and need a man to protect them.
You stayed in your same gown, surprisingly. You didn’t have to see Wanda again. “Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“That cage is quite uncomfortable,” he snorts, looking at you. “I’m sure with a sleeping gown, it’ll be unbearably cold.”
“You know what’s not uncomfortable and cold? The king’s bed,” your nose goes into the air so fast. Everyone pushed you into the bed with your king, and you knew absolutely fuck all about him, and he should immediately stick you with his prick?
“Enjoy your audience, princess,” the dining hall must be separate from the people that lived here. It is quite large, with tapestries and pennants of the coat of arms, but the table of people is small. Wanda sat on the other end from where Steve leads you. Directly beside Bucky. You thought he may stand behind you, and instead Steve sits opposite of you.
“Lumi, come sit in my lap, princess,” Bucky’s voice is laced in poison. Nothing is ever that sweet. Always an ulterior motive. Always cunning and out to trick you.
“I’d rather not,” he leans forward, causing every eye at the table to turn towards you. His teeth gleam with an evil snarl, before his fingers tease at your necklace. Inching onto your skin before he too gently wraps his fingers around your neck, and then moves back to caressing the necklace.
“Please,” you hear a gasp. Not at all surprised that he didn’t have manners normally, and that one word shocked the dinner table.
“No,” his fingers wrap around your necklace, and he sneers. He twists the chain around his finger a few times, and you dare to turn away from him.
“I won’t ask again.”
“Then don’t,” he tightens his fingers, pulling the necklace taut up against your neck, and you choke. Your eyes fire to life, and you look down at the bauble before he yanks the metal chain. Completely cutting off air to your lungs, while Bucky pulls you into him, and forcing you onto his knee. A fucking leash! He is treating you like a common animal.
“You asshole!”
“Shut up, my pet. You want me to treat you like the animal, I’ll show you exactly what an animal you are, princess. You are mine, and what I say goes. I asked nicely to sit on my fucking lap, and if you don’t know how to respond in a well behaved manner, I’ll put you on your knees, and shove my cock so deep in your throat, until you shut up. Everyone will watch as you cockwarm me the rest of dinner. Now have I made myself clear?” You bore holes into his skull, wishing you had powers that could oblerdiate him. No wonder your parents wanted you away from the castle, and away from him. Spoiled brat.
“Do I make myself clear?” Still you don’t respond, but you don’t look away. Steve kicks your leg under the table, and you nod at Bucky. “With words.”
“You’ve made your point.”
“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” It is humiliating, and worse, he’s reduced you to a plaything. No, not even that, his pet. Someone that had to be kept on a leash and paraded around. Everyone at the table gawks at you. They’re all bastards. People in the mountains are an odd bunch. They allowed this behavior for far too long.
“Why is it that you didn’t have to remain pure?” The king chuckles, holding up a leg of some animal up for you, and you try not to devour it, but it’s delectable. You’re so unladylike as you take bite after bite, barely chewing your food before taking another. You are starved.. How were they able to get such meat?
“Well, for one I wasn’t hiding in the forest, and running away from my duty. Did you ever think you were saving yourself just for me? All these years, and you remained loyal to a man you didn’t even know,” snorting, you look at him shaking your head. You didn’t even know about him. Instead of eating himself, he curiously watches you. You could swear he’s even counting how many times you chew before you reach for something else on the plate. He didn’t have one.
“What did you eat out there?” there’s a softness to his voice that confuses you, and you turn to meet his gaze. “You are nothing more than skin and bones. It wasn’t much.”
“Yeah, but I did it myself. I didn’t have servants that hunted, gathered, prepared, and served my food for me. You just learn to survive.”
“Why not learn to live?” Your piercing green eyes roll up to meet his silvery blue ones, and for once, he seems human. Not the foul animal that you first met. Chattering at the table is distant, muffled, and you watch his hand rise up your skirts. Unlike the many men that tried to touch you, his isn't calloused. They are boiling hot, however.
He drifts his hand higher. Higher more, and you gulp. Thankfully his hand is under the table, but you fear that someone will see. That they will watch him slowly claim every inch of your body. What his plans are, you’re unsure, so you keep eating. Gorging yourself in the delicious meal, and trying to ignore him. It’s clear he’s going to take whatever he wants.
“Why are you so hot, Lumi?” Don’t answer him. It might have something to do with his heated hands on your skin. Or the tingly you feel when he’s right at the apex of your thighs, but you’re too interested in the food. “I think you like me touching you just here,” his hand barely grazes over your core, and you jerk your head towards him, and glare. “I like your fight. Don’t forget that.”
You may glower at him, but the face he gives you in return is humored. A smile creeps on his face, and everything else in this room ceases to exist. It’s weird. You could see why women would throw themselves at him. He’s beautiful. But so was ice and snow, and it killed many.
“Your highness,” Bucky nods in the direction of some man, but his eyes still capture your own. You start counting the different hues of blue and silver warped in his eyes. It was like a snowstorm on a starry night. “Your highness, it’s getting late.”
He stands too abruptly, forgetting you’ve settled on him, and you too lost in whatever is happening between the two of you, fall completely to the floor. Pulling the tablecloth and some of the food and wine with you, and the room erupts in joyous laughter. Bucky’s scowl looks to every person in this fucking hall, and he extends his too hot hand for you to take, and you stand up on your own. Refusing his help.
Something in him shifts when you refuse his hand, and he tugs on your stupid leash, pulling you out of the hall. His long strides make it impossible for you to keep up, so your left gagging as the leash constricts your neck. If you could draw what cruelty was, it would be this king. This disgusting animal. He reaches your cage, and he pushes you into it, slamming the door. Without another word, he struts into his bedroom, and another door slams.
You’re covered in filth. And for what? What did this get you? Mere seconds of him acting like a human, but still it was a burning — weirdness. You can’t even think of the word that pops into your mind, because it’s too absurd to even fathom. To think that you liked it. You can’t help it that your body responded to his touch. No. You didn’t like it. You loathed it.
Bucky strolls out of his bedroom, and shoves something in between your bars, and you kick it back, “Change your fucking close. You’re a mess.”
“Ask nicely.”
“I don’t do nice,” your eyebrow cocks up at him, and he sighs, “Change your clothes. Please,” you bend over, picking up the nightgowns, and you blink at him. “They’re new, and never been worn. No bodily fluids.”
“I need help with — my corset. Unless you don’t know how to undo them.”
“Princess, I have done many things with a corset. Spin around,” you do as he asks. His lithe fingers pull and tug at your laces before he drops his hand to his side, and you look at him over his shoulder. Rolling your eyes up to meet his, and something silent, but primal passes between the two of you. You hate it. You don’t think much of this man that cages you up like a wild beast, but you swear his breath catches in his throat. “What?”
“Can you turn around?”
“Why?” He sounds like a clueless child.
“Because no man has ever seen me,” he bows his head, and turns around. You’re so out in the open. A cage placed right in front of the king’s bedroom. Such nonsense. Such impotence. You wish you could make him wait, but the idea of someone else walking up on you has you going faster than expected.
“I’m trying to be nice,” you snort. When has he been nice? “I could be worse.”
“Worse than the dog you are now?”
“I could have you tied up in my bed, and sprawled out. Leaving you wide open and ready to take my seed, until you’re swollen with my fucking heir. That’s how cruel I can be,” he has a point. But you snort.
He could do all of that, but he’s missing something very important. “You need to learn your place. Know exactly what you birthing our child could mean for the kingdom. For the world,” oh he thought so highly of himself. Alas, he was a fool.
He turns around, and sees you grinning maniacally. Tilting his head to the side, he even looks like a dog. “Oh, your highness. You can fuck me until I’m black and blue, but I’ll never bare a child for you or any man. You see, I’ve never bled. My body is as useless to you as any other man that wants to breed me.”
“You fucking liar.”
“What? Are you suggesting you check my panties? You can wait and wait and wait, it’ll never,” Bucky takes a deep breath, watching as you sit on the new mattress that lays on the floor. You’ll probably thank Steve or Wanda, not knowing it is him that took pity on you, and decided to make things a bit more comfortable.
“Now go away, or release me.”
“Wanda!” Wanda emerges out a door on the opposite side. Gliding up to the king before bowing. “What do you know about her, and the ability she has to have children?”
“Nothing, sire.”
“This — she claims she’s never bled,” Wanda looks over at you, and returns to Bucky with a regretful smile. “And?”
“It’s not uncommon to hear that about the wildlings,” What? You knew that having a child was rare, but you assumed it was because people didn’t want to damn their child to an eternal winter. “They’re malnourished out there. Give it a few months here, and she’ll grow thicker. She won’t be a shaking bird, but a woman with curves that can handle you and your child. But you have to remember…”
“I know!” Bucky’s nostrils flare, and he storms off. Leaving Wanda to look at you instead of her king.
“What?” You ask, annoyed with everything. Being trapped. Being here. Being nothing more than a broodmare for him!
“There’s worse men than Bucky. There’s so much that you don’t know. That you can’t know, but you need to accept it,” she whispers, spinning to return from where she was.
“And who could be worse?” Sighing, Wanda rolls up her sleeves. Her fingers trace around wicked scars at her wrist that gleam in the moonlight. Lifting her skirt, she reveals matching scars on her ankles. She’d been bound. “Like a cage is so much better.”
“In a cage where you’re alone. You weren’t tied up, and stretched out, available to whoever wanted to feast on your soul. Be thankful that my king is merciful, and he’s trying. It’s overtaking him.”
“What is?” Wanda doesn’t respond. She walks the hall and back into her bedroom. There was no screaming and moaning of women, and there wouldn’t be tonight.
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s0dium · 2 months ago
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𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑!!!
𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨����𝐬𝐢𝐬: Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d find out that your crush, Geto Suguru, was just like you: a murderer. Not only that but you share the same passion; killing criminals and pedophiles! (Happy Kinktober) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: DARK CONTENT, gore, mutilation, murder, mentions of pedophiles (y/n kills them), serial killing, unprotected sex, breeding, choking, teasing, knife play, whipped Suguru 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k 𝐀/𝐧: This is based HEAVILY on the novel Butcher and Blackbird by Brynne Weaver. The original idea is credited to Brynne Weaver ONLY. This work is fan fiction and is not intended for commercial purposes or to infringe on the intellectual property rights of the original author.
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Being a serial killer who kills other killers, pedophiles, and rapists is a great hobby.
Until you find yourself locked in a cage.
For three days.
No AC.
With a body you carved up.
You glare at the fly-riddled corpse whose legs are kneeling opposite of you in the locked cage you were both trapped in. The air is thick with the putrid stench of decay, a relentless assault on your senses. The body's skin is pallid, marred by the writhing mass of white maggots that feast mercilessly. Where eyes once held gaze, now only hollow sockets remain, tediously scooped out and vacant. The ears too have been sheared off, leaving clean edges that blend into the mottled, blood-stained flesh. Its chest has been cracked open; ribs pried apart in a macabre mimicry of an unhinged broken cocoon, revealing the dark, empty cavity where a heart once beat.
Then, of course, the piste de resistance of your work, the removed eyes, ears, and heart rest in the corpse's upturned palms—placed with ceremonial care amidst the chaos of mutilation.
So now, if anyone were to walk down the steps of Gary Green House's basement, they would not only find his mutilated body, but the person who did it, trapped in a cage together.
"Fuck." You curse at yourself for the millionth time since you've been trapped here for the last three days. The cold realization that you've fallen into Gary’s final trap gnaws at your mind as relentlessly as the maggots at the corpse across from you. The cage, a cruel relic of Gary’s twisted pleasures, had seemed the perfect place for your ritual—turning the hunter into the hunted in his own den of horrors. But in your fervor to see him pay, you overlooked one crucial detail: the cage's sinister design, which sealed shut the moment its door swung closed.
The remote control, now a mocking symbol of freedom, lies just beyond the bars, on a small, grimy table. You remember the sickening click of the lock, the finality of it echoing in the cramped space as you turned back from the grisly task of dismembering Gary—his last, silent victory.
Even the idiot police could deduce that this was all your doing, seeing as all your bloody tools were still with you in your backpack. With fingerprints. It was just a matter of time before they opened the basement door.
You could practically hear Gary’s voice from beyond the grave: "Hah! Serves you right, you stupid bitch! That's what you get for killing me!" The taunt echoes in your head like a song over and over again and you're seriously contemplating banging your head against the iron bars.
"FUCK FINE!" You yell into the darkness. "I renounce my wicked ways!"
"That's a shame. I bet I would like your wicked ways."
You jump at the sound of a man's deep, smooth voice, the cadence of slight raspiness warming every note. Your curses cut the humid air from the startlement of the man's presence. How the hell did he even get in here? You didn't hear the basement door open. You scurry out of reach of the man who saunters into the thin thread of light from the narrow window, the glass opaque with fly shit.
"You seem to be in a predicament." He says stepping into view. The thin light from the window partially illuminates him, allowing you to make out his face. Oh rather, what is on his face.
Holy shit.
A ghost mask stares back at you, its hollow eyes and elongated mouth frozen in a chilling scream. The stark white of the mask contrasts sharply with the surrounding shadows, and you watch with wide eyes as he tilts his head.
Holy shit holy shit holy shit.
In any other situation, you might be fan-girling. You know exactly who you're staring at: the infamous Crucifer, a killer, like you, but notorious for his crucifixion of criminals in rather, flamboyant displays. The few eyewitness accounts of the Crucifer all mention the ghost mask, leaving no doubt in your mind about his identity.
While your hunting grounds have been Osaka, his have typically been Tokyo, but despite the geographical difference, his reputation precedes him. In all honesty, you shouldn’t be surprised he’s here. Your victim, Gary Greenwich, is notorious even among the authorities. Despite his crimes, the lack of solid evidence has always allowed him to slip through the cracks of the justice system, leaving him free to continue his heinous activities. He was high on your kill list, and it’s no surprise he was high on Crucifers as well.
He takes a few steps closer toward the cage to stare down at the corpse, bending to take a closer look.
"Well what happened here?" He chuckles.
You are on day three of no food. No water. The gnawing hunger in your stomach feels like a relentless beast, clawing at your insides with increasing ferocity. You wonder if your body has started to eat its own organs at this point.
You can't deal with this shit.
"Self defense." You say.
The man chuckles. "I doubt that, you're not his type." Despite his mask you can feel his eyes shift from the corpse to linger on you.
"And how would you know that?"
"Well disregarding the state in which you "self defense" left him, you're not a 6 year old boy. And," he steps closer so now he is inches away from the bars and his whole body is illuminated. "I make it my business to know."
You don't answer. Instead you watch as he crouches down to meet your gaze. You try to hide behind your tangled hair and folded limbs, giving him only your eyes.
And of course, just your luck, he is stunning
Black hair flows behind his mask and down his shoulder. He's wearing a black compression shirt that hugs every muscle of his biceps and forearms, accentuating his athletic build. His broad shoulders enhance his imposing presence, giving him the aura of a seasoned athlete. Black cargo pants complete his ensemble, practical and intimidating, with a hunting knife sticking out of his pocket, probably what he would've used on Gary if you hadn't got to him first.
Something about him looks familiar, something you can't put your finger on.
"I guess you made it your business to know too." He pauses before moving even closer so his mask is practically pressed against the iron bars. "Hey, you look pretty familiar."
You shift uncomfortably, feeling the prickle of anxiety creeping up your spine. Instinctively, you brush a tangled lock of hair from your face, wincing as it catches on your dry lips. The man's shoulders tense as if he has been electrocuted.
"Y/n?" His voice cuts through the thick silence like a knife.
Oh, what the hell.
You jerk your head up from your hunched posture, eyes wide in shock, meeting the unsettling, hollow eyes of the ghost mask. Your heart races, pounding loudly in your chest.
"Wha-"
"Oh my god, it is you!" He exclaims, his loud deep voice echoing through the basement.
"I'm sorry, I don't-" you stammer, confusion and fear knotting in your stomach.
"It's me," he interrupts, and with a swift motion, he takes off his mask. The sight of his familiar face makes your breath catch in your throat. "Suguru Geto."
Suguru Geto. The name alone sent ripples through your thoughts, dragging along memories and emotions you had long buried. Suguru wasn’t just any ordinary guy; he was a micro-celebrity in Tokyo, renowned for his breathtaking tattoo artistry. His ink adorned the bodies of celebrities, flaunted in TikToks and Instagram posts that garnered thousands of likes. His reputation was impeccable, his designs sought after by the elite.
You had crossed paths with Suguru a few times at various parties, your social circles occasionally overlapping due to mutual friends. Each encounter left an indelible mark on you. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t just his talent that made him irresistible; it was everything about him. Those hawk-like eyes that seemed to pierce through to your very soul, the perfect curve of his lips that could shift from a smirk to a genuine smile in an instant, and those dimples that appeared whenever he graced you with that smile—each feature was a weapon, effortlessly disarming.
You, like many other girls, harbored a secret crush on Suguru Geto. It was impossible not to. That face alone could kill, and his charisma was the final blow.
And now, here he was, standing right in front of you, unmasked and undeniably real. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and a little overwhelmed.
Suguru clears his throat, a small smirk playing on his lips from how obviously you are gawking at him.
"Shot in the dark here but are you the Mute Collector?"
You part your lips to say something but you can't seem to form the right words.
"I-"
Suguru's grin widens and a sharp laugh escapes his perfect mouth. "Oh my god. I knew it. I fucking knew they had it wrong about you with that bull shit profile they built. What was it, they said you were a 30 year old white man?" Suguru throws his head back and smiles at the ceiling. "And the Mute Collector? You? That's just awesome. I'm such a huge fan."
"Yeah..." You clear your throat and push your hair completely out of your face. He grins at you, as though awe struck, and if you weren't wearing 100 layers of grime on your skin you are sure he'd be able to see the blush flaming in your cheeks for a second.
"And you?" You nod toward the mask. "You are?" You don't know why you are feigning ignorance but something about humbling him seems tastier than actual food right now.
"Oh come on." Suguru's tone flattens and he brings the mask up next to his face.
"The Crucifer?"
You shake your head.
"The cross maker?"
You shake your head again. Lying through your teeth is fun.
"The Tokyo Butcher?" When you shake your head he sighs and stands up. "Well," he glances to Gary whose maggots have made their way to the empty eye sockets. "What do you say? We ditch this lousy scene and get something to eat. Maybe when you get food in your stomach you will remember some of my little nicknames."
Your eyes widen and your stomach growls loudly, reminding you of how long it's been since you last ate. You glance up at your Suguru, a mix of hope and suspicion in your gaze.
"Are you serious?" you ask, your voice hoarse from dehydration.
"Yeah, after we get you a shower, some clothes and burn the house down."
You gulp and stand to your feet. "Could we get burgers?"
Suguru grins before grabbing the remote and pointing it at the cage.
"Fine by me."
~
The Mute Collector.
Geto Suguru is sitting across from the fucking Mute Collector.
And god you are beautiful.
Not that he just realized it now. Like many others, he has always known how attractive you are; he just pushed it to the back of his mind. But now, knowing who you really are and what you do in your free time, your body has practically been encompassed in bright warm light and your head adorned with a halo. He watches as you down your 6th cup of water with a sigh and wipe your mouth with your sleeve.
The two of you sit in a cozy booth at a restaurant, the warm, smoky aroma filling the air. Suguru leans back with a beer in hand, watching you with a mix of amusement and caution. The waitress approaches, placing a large plate with a double cheeseburger and fries in front of you. Your eyes light up, and without wasting a second, you pick up the cheeseburger with your fingers and take a big bite, savoring the flavors.
Suguru chuckles, raising his beer in a mock toast. "You look like you've just found the Holy Grail."
He doesn't miss the way you stifle back a laugh, trying to speak through a mouthful of burger. "If the Holy Grail were covered in cheese and ketchup, then yeah, maybe."
He takes a sip of his beer, grinning. "I’ve never seen someone so excited about food. Maybe you should give up your little hobby and do food reviews."
"Well, that's what being trapped in a cage with the rotting corpse of a pedophile does to you I guess." You grumble, setting down the burger and taking another drink of water.
Suguru's eyes stay on you, and he takes the opportunity to really assess you. Your hair is damp, and the wetness seeps into the white Mickey Mouse shirt you're wearing, causing it to cling slightly to your skin and reveal the elegant lines of your collarbone. He bought that shirt and the shorts for you at a thrift store, and despite the fact that such clothes should look bad on anyone, you are rocking them effortlessly.
He can't help but notice that you didn't buy a bra, a fact that makes him smile to himself.
No bra.
"So tell me." Suguru sets his beer back on the table and leans in.
"The whole ears, eyes and heart thing." He waves his left hand in the air. "The police say it's satanic ritual stuff but I don't buy it."
You pause, a hint of a smile playing at your lips as you meet his gaze. "It's simple, really. Hear no evil, see no evil, fear no evil."
Suguru raises an eyebrow. "You have a way of making the macabre sound poetic."
You're about to reach for a fry, but he snatches it before your fingers could reach it.
"Why not the tongue?" He says. "You know, speak no evil."
You roll your eyes and snatch the fry out of his fingers. "Tongues are hard to cut, too slippery and make a mess."
He nods thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. "You know, most people would be horrified to hear you talk like that."
"Good thing you’re not most people," you reply with a smirk.
"Touché."
He watches as your lips wrap around the thick fry and your teeth rip off half of it into your mouth.
No bra.
"What about you Suguru?" You lock eyes with him. "Why are you here?"
"Why am I here?"
"You heard me. You swoop in all superman-like, save me from the dipshit’s pedo dungeon and take me out for a double cheeseburger. Why are you here?"
Suguru shrugs and averts his gaze from your unyielding stare. Shit, your piercing eyes are almost making him sweat.
"Same thing you already did. I was going to skin him alive and and display the fucking monkey Jesus style infront of his house. At least, something like that."
"Yeah but why him? I thought your hunting grounds were in Tokyo?"
Your eyes widen slightly as the words hang in the air, the weight of your mistake sinking in immediately. You feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, a telltale sign of your embarrassment. Your lips part as if to take back the words, but it's too late; they've already been spoken.
A sly smile spreads across Sugurus face as he watches your face fall.
"Oh you totally know who I am Y/n."
"Fucking hell."
"You do! You know that I like to hunt near my home, how long have you been a part of my fan club?"
You roll your eyes and fall back into your seat. You blink rapidly, trying to maintain your composure, but the subtle tension in your jaw and the furrowing of your brow betray your embarrassment.
"So which one was your favorite? The monkey I strung up next to the police station? Or the one I flayed inside the Tokyo Union Church?"
"Oh my god I can already tell you are going to be insufferable." You grumble, the heat of embarrassment slowly dissipating as you take a deep breath. Suguru leans back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he swirls the beer in his hand, watching you with an almost predatory curiosity. As seconds pass, Suguru assesses your face, following how your eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape route, and Suguru’s playful expression falters for a split second. He realizes with a sudden jolt that you're trying to leave. He can't have that. He needs to see you again.
"Hey speaking of suffering," Suguru clears his throat. "Have you heard about the women killings in Kyoto?"
Your eyebrows raise, curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I've heard. Pretty gruesome stuff. Why do you ask?"
A playful smile tugs at his lips. "How about a friendly competition? The killer's already taken six lives so far."
You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try to decipher his intentions. "What do you mean by a competition?"
Suguru leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's exactly what it sounds like. Who can hunt him down first?"
For a moment, you're taken aback, your eyes widening as you process his proposal. A mix of surprise and intrigue flickers across your face. "Are you serious?"
He chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction. "As sin."
"And what do we get if we win?"
Suguru's eyes gleam with amusement and something else—admiration. "Bragging rights, of course. And maybe... another dinner like this one."
You throw your head back and let out a laugh. "Oh yeah? Who says I'll need you to get me another dinner?"
"Can't let you go hungry again. What do you say?”
~
You sit at your desk, the dim light of your laptop casting a pale glow on your face as you scroll through articles about the woman killer from Kyoto. The room is quiet, save for the occasional click of your mouse and the hum of the laptop. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at the screen to see Shoko’s name. With a smile, you answer the call.
"Hey Shoko, how’s your night shift?" you greet her with a teasing tone.
Shoko’s laugh crackles through the speaker. "Busy as always. Just patched up a guy who thought he could outsmart a bulletproof vest with sheer willpower. Spoiler: he couldn’t."
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Sounds like my type of guy."
By day, Shoko is your best friend and a dedicated med student, excelling in her studies with a, albeit, half hearted, passion for helping others. But when the sun sets, she transforms into the notorious Dr. Reverse, the underground doctor every criminal and lowlife turns to in their time of need. Using her medical expertise, she serves those who cannot seek help through legal means, operating in the shadows and patching up criminals who live by a different set of rules. In addition to her medical skills, she also deals in poisons, further cementing her reputation in the underworld.
You first met Shoko in a moment of desperation. After cornering a serial rapist, you were attacked with a machete, almost severing your arm. With nowhere else to turn, you sought out Dr. Reverse. Shoko skillfully sewed you up and, in the process, deduced that you were the infamous Mute Collector. To your surprise, she didn't seem to care about your identity, and you, in turn, didn't question her underground business or her dealings with poison. This mutual understanding and acceptance laid the foundation for a strong bond, and you've been best friends ever since. 
Shoko laughed, a sound that always manages to lift your spirits. "Right? Anyway, what's up? I saw your SOS text."
You hesitate, glancing at the photo of Geto Suguru on your screen on a separate tab. His annoyingly white teeth glare back at you, and you try to resist staring at his six pack in an instagram photo someone took of him at a pool party.  His dark eyes seemed to stare right through you, as if mocking your indecision. "It's about Geto."
There was a brief pause before Shoko's voice came back, tinged with curiosity. "Geto? What about him?"
You take a deep breath, your fingers drumming nervously on the desk. "He's the Crucifier."
Shoko's reaction was immediate and loud. "Geto is what?" she practically yelled through the phone, causing you to wince.
"The Crucifier. I know." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it all. "Can you believe it?"
Shoko let out a low whistle. "Wow. I mean, he always seemed like a guy with secrets, but I never pegged him for a serial killer, I mean, someone like you."
"Yeah, well, here we are," You mutter, rubbing your temples. You focus your attention back on your computer screen. Suguru is squeaky clean, not even a bad review on his website. There was only his questionable taste in best friends: Gojo Satoru—the biggest playboy and the infamous heir to the Gojo Company, Japan's largest and most influential corporation. Gojo's notoriety was legendary, his exploits plastered across tabloids and whispered in gossip circles. You’ve met, and been hit on by the man a few times, and not once did you fall for any of his slimy cheap antics. No, Geto Suguru is who your eyes fell on. 
 "And now he’s proposed some sort of competition."
"A competition?" Shoko's voice was practically dripping with amusement. "Like a hunting competition?”
You let out a snort of air through your nose. “Basically.”
Are you gonna do it?"
"I don't know," You admit, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. "I said I would, but I don't know. I barely know the guy. Well, I thought I did."
"Well, you should," Shoko said, her tone shifting to one of gentle teasing. "Besides, isn't this your chance to get closer to your crush?"
You feel your cheeks flush. "Shoko, seriously? Come on, that was ages ago."
"Hey, I'm just saying," she replies, laughter bubbling up again. "This could be your big break."
"You're impossible," you grumble, though you can't help but smile. "How's the side business, by the way?"
"Thriving," she says and you can practically see her small smile through the phone.. "You'd be amazed at how many people need a little untraceable something for their enemies."
"I don't doubt it," you say, shaking your head. "Just stay safe, okay?"
"You too, Mute Collector," Shoko says, her voice softening slightly. "And remember, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."
"Always," you reply, your smile growing wider. "Thanks, Shoko. Talk to you soon."
"Later," she says, and the line goes dead.
You lean back in your chair again, your thoughts drifting back to Geto Suguru and the strange, dangerous world you both inhabit. As much as you hate to admit it, Shoko is right. This is your chance, not just to catch some sick killer, but to uncover the secrets that lie hidden beneath Suguru’s enigmatic exterior.
With a sigh, you close your laptop and stand up, determination settling in your chest. The competition awaits, and you have a feeling it's going to be a game changer.
~
“What’s got your panties in a twist?”
Suguru rolls his eyes at the white hair man’s mocking tone and continues to stare at his phone. It's been 10 minutes. How long does it take for someone to respond to a text. Suguru lay sprawled on the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone. Across the room, Gojo was bustling about in the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking and food sizzling filling the air.
"Is this about Y/n? The Mute Collector or whatever?" Gojo asked, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous grin.
Suguru didn't respond, his gaze unwavering from the screen. He could feel Gojo's eyes on him, the scrutiny almost tangible.
"I don't think I've seen you put this much effort into a woman since, like... ever," Gojo continued, his tone teasing. He turned back to his cooking, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.
Suguru's jaw tightened, but he kept his silence. Gojo, undeterred, pressed on. "Besides the fact that she's the Mute Collector, what do you even see in Y/n? Well, I guess she does have other assets," he chuckled.
"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth, you prick," Suguru snapped, his voice low and menacing.
Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender, a laugh escaping his lips. "Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial."
Suguru continued to stare at his phone, his fingers hovering over the keys. "How long does it take for someone to respond to a fucking text" he mutters under his breath.
Gojo leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Maybe she's busy. Or maybe she's just messing with you. You know, playing hard to get."
Suguru finally looks up, his eyes narrowing. "She doesn't play games. And she's not hard to get—she's hard to keep."
Gojo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by Suguru's reaction. “Touchy, touchy,” he mutters, returning to his culinary task.
Just then, Suguru's phone pings. His heart skips a beat as he sees your name flash on the screen. He quickly opens the message, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he reads your response.
Y/n: Fine, I'll do it. But what are the details?
Suguru: Oh, I'm thrilled
Y/n: Shut up.
Suguru: The rules are simple: whoever deduces the monkey’s identity first and guts the bastard wins.
Y/n: And how do I know you don’t already have a head start?
Suguru: I guess you'll just have to trust me. 
Y/n: Trust you? That’s rich coming from someone who literally stabs people in the back.
Suguru lets out a snort of air from your comment catching Gojo’s attention. “Ah, there it is. The smile of a man who's finally gotten what he wants.”
Suguru doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he focuses on your message, feeling a grin grow on his lips.
Suguru: You wound me, truly. But where’s the fun without a little challenge? Besides, I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you
Y/n: Easy, huh? I suppose you think you’re quite the genius, then?
Suguru: Only compared to the average monkey. You, on the other hand, might actually make this interesting.
Y/n: Is that a compliment or are you just trying to butter me up?
Suguru: Can’t it be both? 
Y/n: Oh, don't worry. You’re not the only one who enjoys a good chase. But don’t cry when I beat you at your own game.
Suguru: Cry? Please. I’ll be too busy admiring you in action. It’s a win-win for me.
Y/n: Flattery will get you nowhere, Suguru.
Suguru: Really?
Suguru: Not even a little bit princess 🥺?
Y/n: *One attachment*
You send an image of your hand flipping him off. Your middle finger nail is painted black and he assumes so are all your other fingers. His heart thuds against his chest. God, how he would love to have those nails dragging down his back. His dick twitches just thinking about it. 
Gojo snickers as if he can read Suguru’s thoughts and Suguru considers throwing his phone at the smug white hair man when Gojo’s phone rings. Any humor falls off Gojo’s features like snow from a shaken tree branch. He glances at the caller ID, his eyes narrowing, and picks up the phone with a serious tone.
“This is Gojo.” He says. His voice is gruff as he responds to the caller with clipped “yes” and “no” answers, his timbre low. “I'll be there in 30 minutes.” 
When he sets down the phone, Suguru meets his blue eyes, Gojo’s brief smile is grim.
“Trouble?” Suguru asks.
“Trouble.” Gojo repeats.
On the exterior Gojo is Japan's most infamous playboy and philanthropist. But by night he is the devil's tool, the country's most lethal assassin for anyone from politicians to presidents.  What Suguru and you do for a hobby, Gojo Satoru does for his job.
Gojo dumps his hot food in a container, grabs his hunting knife coat and bag and heads for the door. Before he exits, he turns around to lock eyes with Suguru.
“Be safe. A woman killer is a deadly combo.” He says.
Suguru chuckles, and for a second he doesn't know if Gojo’s talking about you or the guy in Kyoto. “You to ass hat.”  
~
You can't believe you are doing this. 
You can't believe that you took up Suguru’s competition, spent 120 dollars on a train and hotel room at Kyoto and an extra 20 on room service. Moreover you can't believe that you are here, hiding in a forest of bamboo shoots at the dead of night, watching some man who may or may not be the Kyoto women killer.
It’s a warm summer night, and every time the wind blows, the bamboo shoots rustle against each other, creating a haunting melody that sets your nerves on edge. The air is thick with the scent of earth and foliage, and the occasional hoot of an owl punctuates the silence. You’re crouched low, your body tense, watching a man named Noaya Zenin who you followed out here. He seems to be wandering aimlessly, but you know better than to underestimate him. The Zenin clan's reach is long and shadowy, and their involvement in the Kyoto women killings is a tangled web you’ve been unraveling. All key witnesses were either paid off by the Zenin clan or had lawyers representing them from the Zenin clan. The pattern was too precise to be a coincidence.
Your heart thuds in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, makes your senses sharper, every movement and sound more pronounced. You can feel the need creeping up on you, slowly reaching your brain until your skin itches with anticipation. 
Each minute feels like an eternity as you scrutinize Noaya’s every move. He stops occasionally, looking around as if sensing he’s being watched, and you hold your breath, pressing yourself closer to the ground. The moonlight filters through the dense bamboo, casting eerie shadows that dance with the wind. Your mind races, piecing together fragments of evidence and suspicion. If Noaya Zenin is indeed the killer, catching him here could be the breakthrough you need.
“Hiya.”
A scream almost rips through you when you feel someone's breath against your ear, but you quickly cover your mouth and whip around. Of course, you’re met face to face with the man you least wanted to see right now. Familiar hazel eyes gaze back at you, glinting with mischief and amusement. Suguru is crouched right next to you, his nose mere inches from yours, a sly smirk on his face. You didn’t even hear him approach.
“Suguru, what the fuck?” you hiss, keeping your voice low. Your first instinct is to grab your knife out of your pocket and press it against his throat but he holds both his hands up as if surrendering, stopping you.
“Woah woah princess, let's cool our engines.” He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction.
Your pulse is still racing, but you force yourself to calm down. “You could have given me a heart attack. How did you even find me?” You seethe.
“I have my ways,” he replies cryptically, his smirk widening. “Besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun, now could I? So,” his eyes flicker to Noaya, who still seems to be staring at his phone. “Who are we looking at?”
“We?” You scoff and roll your eyes. “Are you kidding me? There is no we. This is a competition, remember? Go do your own research.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, come on. You know you love my company.”
Before you can retort, Noaya picks up his phone. You both strain to listen, and you catch his words clearly.
“Yeah, I’m at the bamboo forest. See you soon, babe.” He then hangs up the phone with a click and puts it back in his backpack. But just when you're about to turn back to Suguru and rip into the man, Noaya pulls something else out too. A hunting knife. A large one at that with serrated ends and a pointed tip that glints in the moon light. Just like the one used on the victims. And as if things couldn't get any more apparent, you watch as a wicked grin spreads across his face when he draws the blade diagonally through the air.
“Oh shit,” you whisper, eyes wide. “That’s definitely him. That’s like some comically evil villain shit right there.”
“Dibs,” Suguru whispers back, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he puts on his ghost mask. “I call fucking dibs.” He stands up, the crunch of leaves making Noaya whip around and stare right at the area you both hid in.
For a solid 5 seconds your two flabbergasted to even form words, you can only watch as Suguru steps out from the bamboo shoots and onto the trail, slowly walking toward Noaya like a lion cornering a gazelle. 
Or course, Noaya turns, screams like a little girl, and makes a hard right straight into the forest of bamboos.
“Oh hell no,” you mutter, leaping up and chasing after him. You sprint through the forest, the warm summer air thick and humid around you. Each footfall is muffled by the dense undergrowth, but the occasional snap of a twig or crunch of leaves marks your frenzied pace. Moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting ghostly shadows that dance along the forest floor, creating an ever-shifting maze of light and dark.
Your breath comes in quick, controlled bursts, each inhale filling your lungs with the earthy scent of the forest. Adrenaline surges through your veins, sharpening your senses. The rhythmic pounding of your heart in your chest matches the rapid beat of your footsteps. Ahead, you can just make out the faint silhouette of Noaya, his panicked movements betraying his desperation.
Branches claw at your clothes and face, but you push through, eyes locked on your target. The thrill of the chase ignites every nerve, propelling you forward with a singular focus. Suguru’s presence is a constant just behind you, his footsteps a steady reminder of the competition driving you both. You can hear his breaths, steady and calculated, mirroring your own.
The path twists and turns, the bamboo growing thicker, creating a claustrophobic tunnel. You duck and weave, dodging low-hanging branches and vaulting over fallen logs. The forest floor is uneven, riddled with roots and hidden pitfalls, but your reflexes are sharp, your movements instinctual.
The thrill, the excitement, the danger—it all converges in this moment. You are a predator in your element, and your prey is within reach. The bamboo forest seems to blur around you, time stretching and contracting with each heartbeat. This is what you live for, the ultimate test of skill and nerve, the ultimate game of life and death.
Just as you’re about to close the distance, your fingertips brushing the fabric of Noaya’s shirt, he whirls around with surprising speed. The moonlight catches the gleam of his hunting knife as it arcs through the air. Instinct takes over, and you try to dodge, but the blade slices across your palm, leaving a hot, stinging line of red in its wake.
For a split second, time seems to slow. You see the wild desperation in Noaya’s eyes, the way his chest heaves with exertion and fear. But there’s no pain, only a white-hot fury that floods your veins, fueling your next move.
Your grip tightens around the hilt of your own knife, slick with blood but steady. The cut on your palm feels like a mere scratch compared to the surge of adrenaline that courses through you. With a fierce snarl, you lunge forward, using the momentum to drive Noaya back a step.
He stumbles, his confidence faltering as he realizes the severity of his mistake. You don’t give him a chance to recover. You move with a predatory grace, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. The forest around you fades into a blur of green and shadow, all your focus locked on the man in front of you.
Noaya swings wildly, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. You sidestep his attacks with practiced ease, your fury giving you a sharp, clear edge. The scent of blood mingles with the earthy aroma of the forest, and your pulse pounds in your ears like a war drum.
You close the distance again, this time with a calculated precision. Your free hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the knife clatters to the ground. Noaya yelps in pain, his eyes widening in terror. The tables have turned, and he knows it.
Your injured hand, still bleeding, clamps down on his shoulder with a vice-like grip. You lean in close, your breath hot against his ear. “Nice try,” you hiss, the fury in your voice making him shudder. “But it’s over.”
With a swift, brutal motion, you plunge your knife into his chest. The blade sinks into flesh with a sickening thud, and Noaya's eyes widen in shock and agony. Blood spurts from the wound, hot and sticky, spraying across your face in a macabre mist. The initial strike is met with a gasp, a desperate, choking sound that fuels the savage fire within you.
A wicked grin spreads across your face, the thrill of dominance electrifying your senses. You pull the knife out, feeling the resistance of tissue and bone, and then plunge it in again, and again. Each thrust is accompanied by a wet, squelching sound, a symphony of carnage that drowns out the world around you. Blood flows freely, pooling at your feet and soaking into the earth.
Noaya’s body jerks and spasms with each stab, his strength fading with every violent assault. His once panicked eyes grow dull, the life draining from them as you continue your relentless attack. The coppery tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the scent of the forest, creating a heady mixture that makes your pulse race even faster.
You lose yourself in the rhythm of the violence, the way your muscles strain and flex with each plunge of the knife. Blood splatters across your face and clothes, warm and viscous, painting you in the evidence of your victory. Your grin widens, a feral expression of triumph and fury.
Amidst your frenzied stabbings, Suguru places a hand on your shoulder. "I think—" he begins, but when you turn around to face him he immediately shuts up.
Your eyes are wide, pupils contracted like a deranged predator. Your hair flows wildly in the wind as you grab Suguru's throat with your bloody hand, smearing the crimson on his skin and pressing him against a tree. 
"This woman-killer fucker is mine." You seethe.
His dick strains against his cargo pants waistband. You look divine.
“ Of course, All yours baby.” He coos.
~
Geto Suguru would be lying if he said that watching you tear apart that woman-killer wasn't the hottest thing he had ever seen. 
To Suguru, you looked divine. The moonlight accentuated the sharp angles of your face, casting shadows that danced across your blood-splattered skin. Your eyes, wild with the remnants of fury, glowed with an unearthly intensity. The contrast of crimson against your complexion made you seem otherworldly, a dark goddess of vengeance. Suguru couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the raw, primal beauty you exuded in that moment.
The walk back to your hotel was silent, but not because you were soaked in blood or because he felt awkward. More like it was because the only think he could think to say is “You are so fucking hot.”
Now here he is, twiddling his thumbs as he stands outside of your hotel door, trying to think of the right thing to say to you because god he needs to see your face one last time before he goes to bed.
He raises his hand to knock, but before he can, the door swings open. You stand there, your hair wet and smelling faintly of vanilla. You’ve clearly just come out of the shower. A tank top clings to your damp skin, and sports shorts hug your thighs. His eyes widen slightly, and he gulps, struggling to keep his composure. 
No bra.
The sight makes his mouth go dry.
"Just checking to see if everything is good," he says, nodding toward your bandaged hand.
You feel yourself fidget in your place and you try to flash a small smile but your emotions betray you. What if you freaked him out? What he saw back there, what you did back there, that was you, the raw you. Behind all the layers of kind smiles and pleasantries, in many ways, you were no different than an animal, consumed by your predatory instincts. You wouldn't blame him if he never contacted you again after this. Shit, did you just fuck up everything?
 His presence fills the doorway, and you’re acutely aware of the tension between you two.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks for asking.”
His eyes flicker down to your hand, then back up to meet yours. “How’s the hand?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.
You hold it up and wiggle your fingers slightly. “It’ll heal. No big deal.”
Silence fills the void between you two and you clear your throat, searching for something to say to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.
“Mind if I come in?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. “Or are you planning to keep all the fun out here in the hallway?”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Sure, come in. But I warn you, it’s a mess.”
“I’m sure I can handle it,” he quips, stepping inside. His eyes scan the room, taking in the organized chaos. Bandages and clothes are scattered around the floor and he doesn't miss the splatter of blood on the white sheets of the hotel bed. After a moment, Suguru turns around and takes a step closer to you, like he’s examining you. 
You tilt your head slightly, letting a smirk play on your lips. "So, now that I’ve won the bet, what do I get?"
He chuckles, the sound low and smooth, as he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "I was wondering when you’d bring that up." 
You arch an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. "Well? I’m waiting. What’s my prize?"
Suguru stops just inches from you. "I don’t know," he quips, "What do you want?"
You let out a short laugh, though it’s clear you’re testing him now. "That’s a big question."
Suguru's eyes darken slightly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, more intense. He leans in just a fraction, his breath warm against your skin. "Try me."
The tension between you two is palpable, electric. You’re the first to break the silence, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "I want," you pause, averting your gaze from Suguru’s hawkish one. “I want to know if I scared you.” The question slips out before you can stop it, your bravado faltering as doubt creeps in.
Suguru blinks, then a slow smile spreads across his face. "Scare me?" He repeats, as if the idea itself is laughable. He steps even closer, forcing you to take a step back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. "Scare me?” He repeats again. “You didn’t scare me," he continues, his voice low and sincere. "You… captivated me. I have never, and I mean never, seen something so magnificent as what you did. And that's saying a lot because I've done a shit ton of magnificent things.”
You sit down on the bed, more out of necessity than choice, as he looms over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel a mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something much more dangerous.
"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in place.
He smiles, a slow, almost wicked grin that sends shivers down your spine. "Well, I thought I might kiss you now, you know, after telling you how magnificent you are.” He tilts his head. “Is that a bad idea?"
Your breath catches in your throat as the weight of his words sinks in. You forget to breathe.
You finally find your voice, though it’s a bit shakier than you’d like. "That depends…"
"On?" He asks, his face inching closer to yours, his gaze locked onto your lips.
"On how good you are at it," you murmur.
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Suguru closes the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s as intense as it is tender. It’s a slow, deliberate connection, his hands moving to cradle your face as if you’re something precious, something worth savoring.
The kiss deepens, and all the tension that had been building between you two finally snaps, leaving nothing but raw desire in its wake. You respond in kind, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough.
When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, and the world seems to have shrunk down to just the two of you in this moment. Suguru’s forehead rests against yours, and he smiles, a real, genuine smile that you can feel in your bones.
"So," he says, his voice husky and low. "How was that?"
You laugh softly, still trying to catch your breath. "Not bad," you admit, your fingers running through his black hair. "Not bad at all."
"Good," he replies, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "Because I plan on doing it again."
Suguru’s lips are on yours again before you can even catch your breath, this time more insistent, more demanding. He’s not asking for permission anymore; he’s claiming what he wants, and it makes your head spin. The kiss deepens as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth with a slow, deliberate intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. You can taste him—warm, intoxicating—and you find yourself leaning into his lips, craving more.
His hand, warm and firm, slides down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest between your thighs. The touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of sensation through you, and you gasp against his mouth, your heart pounding in your chest.
But it’s too much, too fast. Your mind races, and you instinctively pull back, breaking the kiss. “Wait,” you murmur, your voice breathless, “I dont know if we should….” You avert your gaze and turn your head toward the wall but Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look right into his hazel eyes. Then, he dips his head to whisper in your ear.
“Aw come one Y/n” He grazes your earlobe with his teeth. “I’ve been on my best behavior, a good boy,” Suguru pauses to deliver a soft kiss to your temple. “I've been waiting, waiting ever since I met you in that cage to do this. Don't I deserve a reward for my patience?” 
You thickly gulp as he rubs the sides of your neck with his lips.
“I’ve been-” He kisses your jaw. “Such a-” he kisses his way up to your mouth. “Good boy.”
You cave. 
As his words sink in, you feel your resolve crumbling, the weight of his desire pressing down on you in the most intoxicating way. Before you can even process what’s happening, Suguru's strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the bed with effortless ease. His grip is firm but gentle, as if he's afraid of breaking you, and you can't help but let out a soft gasp as he lifts you off the bed and up so your head rests on the plush hotel pillow. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with intent, and you feel your breath hitch as the world narrows down to just the two of you. The room is filled with the sound of your breathing, heavy and uneven, mingling with the quiet rustle of sheets as he leans over you.
“I know you have been thinking about this too.” He coos. Suguru’s hands move with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your tank top, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to lift it. The cool air hits your skin as he pulls the fabric up and over your head, exposing you to his hungry gaze. But before you can feel self-conscious, his lips are on your newly exposed skin, pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath fanning over your skin.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “Just so gorgeous.”
His hands are on your shorts next, tugging them down your hips with the same careful slowness, as if he’s unwrapping the most precious gift. As the fabric slips down your legs, he trails kisses along the newly exposed skin, his lips brushing against your thighs, your knees, your calves, until the shorts are discarded on the floor.
Now you’re lying before him in just your underwear, and the way he looks at you makes your heart pound. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a hunger that makes your entire body flush with heat. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeats, his voice thick with emotion. “Just so damn gorgeous.”
Suguru straightens up slightly, his hands moving to the hem of his own shirt. In one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing his bare chest. The sight of him makes your breath catch—his body is lean and athletic, muscles defined and sculpted from years of discipline and training. Tattoos cover his skin in an elaborate tapestry. He’s handsome, impossibly so, and the sight of him like this, just inches away, makes your pulse quicken.
He doesn’t stop there. His fingers move to the waistband of his sweatpants, and he slides them down, revealing more of his skin, his strong legs, until he’s kneeling before you in just his boxers. The fabric clings to him in a way that leaves little to the imagination, and you can’t help but stare, mesmerized by the sheer physicality of him.
Suguru catches your gaze, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Something catches your eye princess?”
You nod, “Yes. You. All of you.” Your eyes tracing every line and curve of his body. He’s more than just handsome—he’s breathtaking, a perfect combination of strength and beauty that leaves you feeling weak in the best way possible.
He leans down again, his body hovering over yours, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Good, wouldn't want you to be disappointed.”
With that, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands trailing down your sides, touching, feeling, exploring. 
You are too lost in the kiss not to notice his hands slipping under your underwear and making their way to your dripping cunt, and when they do, you jump at the feeling of his index finger tracing your slit.
"Gotta get you ready baby.?" Suguru hums and you shake you head vigorously.
"No please Sugu~, I can take it."
You don't have to tell him twice.
In one fluid motion Suguru tears off your underwear, lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs.
"Been waiting to do this for so long," he murmurs as he pulls down his boxers and whips out his dick. You thickly gulp at the sight, you could've guessed he was big not this big, could he even fit in you? A white bead of precum dribbled from his pretty pink tip and down his length and he uses the liquid to stroke himself in a few fluid motions.
You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.
"Suguru please~" You whine and nearly miss the way his ears go bright red at your words
"I know baby, I know. Don't worry, lift your hips for me love?”
You oblige and immediately when you do so you're struck with the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Suguru let out a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 
“F-fuck I can feel you doing it to me,” he said hoarsely.
His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Suguru thrusts into you.
"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.
Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.
You dont even realize that your eyes are closed until Suguru whispers into your ear.
“Come on baby, open those pretty eyes, look at me.”
You do as he says and when you do you feel your heart thud in your chest. Suguru’s eyes were fixated completely on you, how you were reacting, as his hips were continuously slamming into your body as if it were clockwork. The sight alone had your walls clamping down on him, earning a groan from the base of his chest. 
Suddenly, the hand that had been intertwined with yours released its grip and began to rummage through Suguru’s discarded pants. Your breath hitched, eyes glazed over as you watched him retrieve a knife from his pocket, unsheathing it effortlessly with a flick of his finger. The sharp glint of the blade caught your attention from beneath Suguru’s body, even as he continued thrusting into you, not missing a beat.
Your body reacted instinctively, clenching at the sight, drawing a low, dark chuckle from Suguru.
“Hah, I knew it,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge as he brought the cold steel to the base of your throat. “You’re just a slut for knives, aren’t you?”
A moan escaped your lips, the sound betraying any chance of denial. Suguru took it as an admission, pressing the blade firmly against the skin of your throat as he angled his hips to hit even deeper inside you. The cool metal at your throat was electrifying, but it was his other hand, strong and unyielding, that sent a euphoric thrill coursing through you. His fingers flexed, tightening around your neck, the pressure intensifying.
It wasn’t just the air being cut off—it was the dizzying, intoxicating pleasure that came with it. The way his grip constricted, pushing you to the edge of control, ignited something raw inside. Every squeeze of his hand made your body burn hotter, a perfect balance between pain and pleasure, leaving you gasping for more.
What a primal dirty sight you where, being choked with a blade against your throat while fucked brutaly. Even the devil would clutch his rosaries.  
"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" Suguru grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. “Because we were doing it like this in mine.” Good? Try euphoric, how could he ever think his fist could substitute the wet squeeze of your cunt?
You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls and the adrenaline from the knife is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion Suguru makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.
"Come on eyes on me when I fuck you baby~" Suguru releases his hold from your neck and snakes his fingers between your body , finding your clit and pressing down on the pearl back and forth with the pad of index finger. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how badly you want to cum.
He doesn’t slow the ministrations on your clit for a second as he snaps his hips into you with primal vigor, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.
"So good Sugu!" You sob. You cant even open your eyes from the colors you're seeing behind your lids. Every time your pussy squeezes around him not only do bolts of pleasure shoot up your body but a ring of milky white cum forms around the base of his cock.
Suguru’s eyes are locked on how good you're taking him - the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He lets out a sharp moan at how wet you are on the inside.
"S-shit baby wanna feel you cum on me, been waiting so long." Suguru is not a whining man but here he is practically stumbling over his words. Fuck, he wants to keep himself inside you forever. He wants your kisses, your skin, your touch, your blood, your lips, to be his to claim until you die together. No one has seen, truly seen him, before you. You are what he thinks about when he wakes up, when he is eating, when he is plunging his knife into some worthless monkey. You are his goddess. 
The world beyond this intimate cocoon of warmth and breath seemed distant, irrelevant. His gaze was locked with yours, deep and unwavering, a silent communication that tethered you through the mind numbing ecstasy.
Then, he reels his hips back and slams into you in a new angle that has your body jerking.
“Found it didn't I?” He breathes through a smile and pummels into you with vigor. And your about to disagree with him, insist that the feeling is too new and foreign to feel good when all of a sudden your body begins to shake and your head starts to feel fuzzy
And suddenly—you feel it. What you’ve been craving for and what you have seen in porn.
Its like all your body's energy centers are activating at once and your left utterly helpless to the feeling of tingling ecstasy wrapping your brain and stomach.
You dont know how to tell him that something is happening, not when the pleasure is too immense your barely breathing full breaths. But he understands once again the words you tried desperately to communicate.
“Do it baby. Cum. I’ll fill you up, and if it spills I'll fuck it back into you"
So you do.
Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to Suguru as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.
“Ah, princess, please,” he moaned. “Be a good girl and take it all, yeah?” 
Your fingers trailed up his shoulder, only to drag them back down his spine, nails biting into his skin as he buried himself deep inside you, releasing with a powerful shudder. His movements grew erratic, hips pressing yours firmly into the mattress as his hot breath skimmed across your neck, ragged and heavy.
The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, lost in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the feel of his touch to guide you.
The warmth of his cum spreads through your body with a shiver, and you can feel the liquid expanding against your walls while he kept you plugged and full of him. As you both floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breaths came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.
"You're mine ok?" Suguru coos, and all you can do is dumbly nod.
"I'll die for you, I'll kill a thousand monkeys for you, i'll hold them down so you can cut our their eyes. Just stay by my side."
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hoshigray · 2 months ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | gojō satoru
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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: bully! Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you + Gojo are college juniors - first kiss - fingering (f! receiving) - sqüiřtıng - virginity loss - corruption kink - missionary + deep impact positions - clitoral play - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!) - premature ejaculation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, princess) - itty bitty possessiveness - mention of spit/drool and tears.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k
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“Yo.”
“Yes, Satoru?”
“You never had your first kiss, huh?”
Gojo Satoru takes pleasure in being your bully — nothing in his third year of college gives him much joy than being your one source of torment. Sure, he’s got everything: being the campus’ grounds #1 heartthrob, a star player on the men’s basketball team, and an excellent scholar in all his courses despite being a dickhead. But, even if he possesses the things that put him at the top of the class body, his other fountain of entertainment comes from something - or someone - that playing ball or dormitory parties can’t produce the same level of internal enjoyment. 
You and he were alone in his apartment, umbrellaed under the instruction of working on an upcoming project this month. Of course, boredom is evident in the tall one’s heavy sighs as he looks through multiple articles on his laptop. Cerulean orbs wander away from the device’s screen and land on the other side of the couch; another figure glued to the armrest is concentrated on typing their keyboard to notice the prying survey. 
Gojo’s ennui begins to flicker out the moment he sees you, wanting nothing to do with this damn assignment and just to mess with his favorite pushover. This is precisely why he prompts himself to ask you a question, and judging by how quickly your fingers stop typing, now his attention is hooked onto a matter way more fascinating.
He spots your flattened lips. “…Wh–Where did that come from?”
“Just curious, a random thought that came to my head.” 
“Why was that the thought that—“
“Hey, aren’t ya gonna answer the question?”
You stammer. “What makes you think I never had my first kiss?!”
He lifts a brow; his round shades shine when he smirks. “So you did have a first kiss?” Your lips open with no voice, and both silver eyebrows rise from the silent answer you’re giving, only for you to close your mouth and avert your gaze elsewhere. Gotcha, he stifles a chuckle. “Thought so, you terrible liar. Embarrassed I called you out? Haha, hilarious.”
Your eyes may be on the words of your document on your laptop, but the heat on your cheeks and the uncomfortable knot in your gut kept brewing. You chew on your lips to focus on something other than the guy getting a kick out of your lack of experience — the guy you don’t hear close and place his computer on the coffee table.
“Hey,” the closeness of his voice takes you aback, and you’re surprised to see him sit closer enough to bring a hand to close your laptop. “Wanna kiss me?”
Mortified eyelids shoot wide. “Wanna—Wh-What!?!” What the fuck is going on?!? “Why would you ask me—“
A nonchalant shrug adds more weight to your shock. “Why not? It’s just you and me, alone in my apartment at 8 o’clock. Sounds like a perfect opportunity, doncha think?” 
“Yeah, to do work!” Your emphasis fails as Gojo takes your device to add to the table surface. “I-I didn’t come here for you to question me and ask to—“
“You got someone else you’re waiting for?” He uses a hand to cage you from escaping, a knee between your legs. He knows he has the upper hand, observing behind shielded sunglasses as he awaits your response. 
“I–W-Well,” God, what did I get myself into? “Not necessarily…”
“So, do you not trust me with your first kiss?”
“That’s…That’s not the point—“
“You’re deflecting!”
“Satoru,” the way you say his name — low and soft, a pleading whisper — makes something switch for Gojo, looking at your bashful expression with hesitant hands, barely pushing his chest. “We shouldn’t…Let’s get back to the assignment?”
That wasn’t working on him; he’d never want to stop teasing you, especially now when you look too cute. “Let me kiss you one time, ‘kay? Then, we’ll go straight back to work.” He can see the cogs work in your brain, deciphering whether he is genuine. Was he? He couldn’t tell; all he was thinking about was how your lips felt. “I promise, princess.”
You didn’t mean it to happen, but you scan from his shades to his lips; now, it’s all you can see. The bob of his Adam’s apple, when he gulps, has your breath hitch, and after a few silent seconds with no movement, he begins to descend his face lower, and your lids swiftly close. So does his as he gently places his pillowy lips onto your plump ones, and a hushed squeak doesn’t go neglected.
Cherry — that’s the flavor that Gojo can taste. It has to be from the lip gloss you plastered on your lips that made them inviting to gawk at, pretty lips that the tall other couldn’t stop peering occasionally. He licks the bottom, taking in more of the taste with a soft groan. You yelp, gaping your lips further to give the man above an idea, and chew on your bottom lip. More whimpers slide past your control, hands gripping his sweatshirt as he peppers you with soft kisses, latching onto yours for longer seconds from one after the other — so much for one kiss.
You’re the one to break it off, hesitantly backing away from him to breathe. Hot skin returns to the cold air, and intimate huffs fuel into the space. You open your eyes slowly, half-lidded with knitted brows and scorching ears. You examine Gojo’s neutral expression; orbs that were once filled with reluctance are now replaced with a...wonder.
An innocent wonder that nearly has Gojo shut down from seeing as your hands steadily ring around his neck. There it is again, another switch flipped. This time, a spark ignites his brain, curiosity coursed to a more indecent field after what it feels like taking your first kiss. Because the way you’re looking under him — entirely submitted to him and his touch — wasn’t something he expected to rock his core. And all he can think about now…
…Is what taking all of your firsts would be like.
“—Taaahhh, haah…! Satoru, w-wait a min—“
“Hey, baby, tell me, what’s it like having my fingers inside you?”
Gojo’s little experiment delved into different extremes; your first kiss was the starting point of the many thoughts that perturbed his thinking. He wanted to know more about your potential firsts. For example, such as right now, how you’d be if he were the first to touch your privates. 
The atmosphere around the living room became hotter; the tepid silence switched with the erotic sounds and squeals that exited your system. Your legs spread apart, Gojo in between your thighs as his big, calloused hand swims under your panties to shove away and meet the bareness of your cunt. You were so wet, your liquids effortlessly coating his fingertips with barely any push. An entire mess between your inner thighs and labia. And that made Gojo’s mind go wild.
“Holy shit,” he chuckles in a heavy sigh. “So fucking wet and tight…Heh, you’re all like this because of a kiss, huh? So adorably pathetic.”
Refutation is impossible as he curls his forefinger inside, scraping your upper wall in a manner you never envisaged. “Sator—Mmmph…!” He keeps pushing the digit to the knuckle, touching crevices of your inner channel you could never reach. “O-Ohhh, Jesus…”
“Mmmm, fuck, you're twitching like crazy,” and Gojo was loving every second of it. The taller junior then decides to test something and creeps his middle finger near your opening, smearing itself with your come as lube. 
You sense him push the finger in, nerves heightened. “W-Wait, Satoru, I can’t—“
“Oh, yes, you can.” He interrupts you with a cheeky sneer. “You’re practically asking for it with you twitching so much. Watch.” Gojo pushes the middle digit leisurely; your beseeching babbles become increasingly incoherent when he adds the whole thing with the other finger. Now, both of them have you shrilling from their intrepid fashion, grazing on your vaginal walls with every pull and shove until his knuckles smooch your labia.
Good God, the place is so hot, your face is hot, your body’s hot, your insides feel hot — everything is just too hot for you to handle! And your brain cannot hold itself together as the seconds go. You throw your head back, your eyes sewn shut, “OhGod, ahhck! Wait, stooop! Go slow, go slo—Ohhh!” Gojo does the exact opposite; the pace of his fingers surges to a tempo you find difficult to ride through. Your entire frame locks together, preparing for the inevitable to slip past your hold, and tremors course around you as your orgasm hits you like a train.
Simultaneously as Gojo continues to rut your soapy cunt, a clear liquid disperses out of your urethra and sprays outward. Sprinkling onto the skin of your thighs and drenching your underwear. Although you’re not the only one who gets caught, Gojo at the front gets a genuine display of you showering his forearm with your essence, damping his sweatshirt in the process, and even a bit on his sunglasses.
It happens the third time: something snaps inside Gojo once he sees your oddly beautiful teary face. It’s at that moment that something in his core breaks and permeates his entire body with a force that’s been itching to get out when he kissed you earlier. He swallows thickly because the next thing he does after this will eat him alive, a queerly anticipated feeling for the white-haired man.
Of course, Gojo is astonished at what transpired, the shock in his eyes concealed by the shades. “Did you…just squirt on me?” His ears pick up the sound of you sobbing, your hands covering your face as you whine.
Massive tears roll down your cheeks, “I—hic—I told you to wait…!” 
It’s a no-brainer that Gojo pulls you off the couch and leads you to throw on top of his bed, stripping himself off his pants and briefs to free his raging erection and crawling up on top of you after chucking his shades off. A gasp leaves puffy lips when his pink glans meet the folds of your vagina, burrowing between your labia to coat with your slick.
“Satoru, wait,” you voice. “D-Don’t you have a condom?”
“Sorry, ran out of them.” Lies. Gojo knows he has rubbers tucked in his nightstand. However, the intention to use them is nowhere to be found. Because tonight – knowing completely and damn well you’re still a virgin – he had to fuck you raw. The drive to do so sent shivers up his spine. “Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll promise to pull out.”
Yet again, another deception.
Gojo pushes the tip in as he counts your breaths, watching every wince and contortion of your expression as the cockhead ventures and seeks shelter inside your slit. Your body is squirming through every exhale, and Gojo’s coaxes to relax your rigidness are somewhat helpful as you intake air. Before you know it, your mouth goes to a permanent ��o’ shape once the tip is inserted, the act of breathing stops, and your body recoils and tenses as he slowly forces the foreign limb to carve your tightness inch by inch.
Oh, fucking shit…!! Oh yeah, Gojo thanks himself for not putting on a rubber. The firm grasp of your walls around his length nearly has him lose balance, sinking into your warm wetness clenching onto him so deliciously. He bites his lip to composure, a futile attempt as he throws in a few slow thrusts, and the snug of you has him in a chokehold. Then, when he hits your cervix, you instinctively grip onto him tighter and wrap your legs around him, and Gojo almost chokes. 
“F-Fuuck, wait, wait..!” He curses, submitting to a release way too early; his hips tremble as his cock ejaculates into your vagina. Shocks rattle his brain, rolling his eyes to the ceiling at the sensation of pooling himself into you. “Shit, oh shiiiit…this fucking pussy is driving me crazy.”
It really does because Gojo, still keen from his climax, dials the cadence, rutting into you with purpose. The sudden movements have your shrieks bouncing across the bedroom walls, and hits to your womb are frequent and cause more tears to strike down without your comprehension. “Nnnmm! OhhhmyGod…! Mmoohh!!”
“Heh, look at you cryin’,” Gojo teases you from above, licking a tear before kissing your cheek and ear. “Guess that’s expected for your first time, huh…Hnnnm, God, you’re clenching my dick so much.”
“Th-That’s because you’re—“The curve of his shaft has the tip graze your walls in an angle that makes your back arch. “Ahhoooo!! I’m fuull; you’re making me fulll…!!”
“Awww, am I making you full, crybaby?” He mocks you in your ear, the snicker sounding too salacious to the drum. “You full with my dick that it got you whining and crying for me?”
I can’t do this! Your brain dissolves into mush, and your face is too hot to construct adequate consciousness. “I can feel it, I can feel…”
“What is it? I can’t hear you through all the sobbing,” Gojo unscrews your legs to maneuver one for him to straddle and the other to lie on his shoulder. The new position gave him a directed way to piston his pelvis into your aching cunt, your squeals turning into screams as pokes to your womb come with the feverish pacing. He’s hitting so deep you can’t catch up! “What, you think you’re about to cum?”
You nod hurriedly. “Yes, yesss!!”
“Oh, that’s what you want now?” The snow-headed man chortles before sneaking a hand to your vulva, where his fore and middle finger swipe on your clit. “Tell me, is that what my pathetic angel wants?” You nod again, so he pinches your bud. “Tell me properly~.”
“—Ahhnnn, ohh, Sa—‘Toruuu!!” You pan to him. “Pleaseee, please make me cum, I wanna cum…!!”
God, this was a picture worth savoring. The image of you being all desperate for release, wanting nothing but to succumb to your wanton desire. You looked so ruined, like a completely different person compared to the meek exterior Gojo used to. And it’s all because of him – his words, his touches, his lips, and his dick – that you’re like this. A fact that only propels him to hammer his hips into you harsher. 
“Good girl,” he bends down to close his face to yours. Surveying you make such erotic faces as he keeps playing with your clit is food for his soul. “Enjoy yourself, princess,” and he steals your lips once more for another kiss.
Your orgasm comes to you quicker than ever, thanks to the work of Gojo’s hips, the hits of your cervix, the pinches on your clitoris, and the sloppy makeout session. Your body freezes and lets the aftershocks jolt you to a rocky clarity, your head in a dense fog, and your vision just about blurry. Your legs quiver with heaving breaths, and Gojo keeps thrusting as you soon fall out of your euphoria. 
The cold air blankets both of you once tense muscles calm down and bring you two back to reality. Silence befriends the lack of words aside from the pants of breath, and Gojo sluggishly withdraws his cock out of your wet chasm, whistling at the sight of his load slowly protruding out of your essence.
“Hey,” your face forms into a helpless expression. “Bet you never tried anal before.”
Tonight was dedicated to conquering all of your firsts. And Gojo means that with every bone in his body!
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ transparent edit made by me + dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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pinkfemgurl · 1 month ago
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You groaned to yourself after reading that text message. This meant you had to go about your day caged and with her pink satin panties on under your clothes.
But naïve and hopeful enough to finally get unlocked, you sent pictures of yourself every hour on the dot showing off your entire body caged with the her panties on. Sometimes she asked for your face to be in it just to tease you and other times she would ask for different poses.
You check the clock and notice that she should have been home 20 minutes ago. Surely she's just stuck in traffic right?
Three more hours go by and you've been restlessly pacing at the front door waiting for her to get home. She wouldn't reply to any of your texts except either to make you do a new pose or to reply to the picture you sent her every hour.
You swing your head towards the front door the moment you hear it open and see your girlfriend smiling while holding a few bags in her hands. "Sorry honey, I had to stop by the mall to get a few things on the way back home. I hope I didn't make you wait too long?~" She teases you, knowing you were in agony the entire time.
You rush up to her no longer caring about how long you waited because now you can get unlocked and finally be able to cum again.
"Hold on honey, before I unlock you can you do something else for me? I know I've made you do something embarrassing but it just made me so wet at work all day that I couldn't get anything done!" You don't notice the malice in her words as you nod your head to this unknown task.
"Here, I want you to put this on to match your panties, I spent so long to find something that would look perfect on you!"
She hands you a bag as you take out the clothing to put on. You see that its a matching pink bra and a pink long sleeve tutu style dress, all in the same shade of pink as the panties that she made you wear all day.
You can't wear such a thing! You tell her.
But she changes your mind soon after, "I want to be fucked so badly while you wear all this babe! I'll tease you like I did last night, but only for a few minutes," she reassures you with a lie, "and then I'll unlock the cage and let you pound me until you've released your entire load in all of my holes!~ Seeing you in my panties all day made so unimaginably horny this would just make me go over the top! I'm sure that would make up for the entire day and a half of being unable to cum right?~" She gives you a pouty look, knowing she put you through pleasurable torture, you normally cum at least once everyday so not being able to has made your brain fuzzy this entire time.
You finally relent and change into the entire outfit, your girlfriend helping you put on everything the entire time. After hearing that you will be able to fuck her relentlessly you've gotten so horny that you begin leaking into the pink panties again.
She lead you to the bedroom and tied you up on the bed once again. This time it was a little different, instead of just having your arms tied behind your back and your ankles tied together, she went the extra step and began tying every inch of your body in a way that seemed to accentuate the pink outfit and the cage.
"There we go! All done! And I just got to say wow. I can't believe you actually let me do all of this to you!" She says cheerfully while looking at you hungrily.
Click
She snaps a picture of you all tied up, “Who would have thought that it would be this easy to feminize you this far so quickly?! I guess my friends were right when they said that the hardest thing was to get you in a chastity cage but then the rest would be easy!” She laughs to herself. "I mean getting you caged wasn't even that hard either."
She pats your pink caged clitty and no longer needing to hide her true intentions behind an innocent face, she can't stop smiling at your predicament.
"You know babe... I didn't just buy these clothes, I'm sure you saw the dozen other bags I brought home right? Those will be your new clothes! I made sure to only shop in the lingerie sections and sex stores of the countless malls I stopped by after work to give you an even higher quality of clothes compared to my own wardrobe!" She says proudly.
Suddenly she moves close to your ear and in a low but demanding voice whispers, "And if you ever... want a chance of getting out of that cage, you'll have to do everything I say from now on, or I'm going to send these dozens of photos of you in my panties as well as you all tied up like this to your friends and family through your own phone! I'm sure you especially remember the photos with your face in them! Wouldn't that be such a relationship crusher? She teases.
"Now be a good sissy doll and let me see you leak into your pathetic little clitty in this new outfit! I want to record every new milestone you achieve in this new relationship we'll be sharing together honey~"
Hope you enjoyed this super long story made by @pinkfemgurl!
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rafesangelita · 2 months ago
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[🍩] soft!dom!rafe x breeding kink x corruption kink😜😜 with hella dirty talk😫
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warnings: bambi!reader, innocent!reader, established relationship, making out, heavy petting, pussy slapping, oral (f. receiving), rafe is messyyyyy lol, unprotected sex, rough sex, crying, blood (very little, it’s from a bite lol), breeding, multiple orgasms, rafe slaps you just once, corruption kink, lots of dirty talk, first time, loss of virginity, fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, slapping, soft aftercare, brief mentions of having kids
a/n: i think i got really carried away with this but breeding kink with bambi was something i wanted to write but was unsure of how to start it lol so thank you so much for this request 🤍
rafe was in heaven right now and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. he kissed you gently, the feeling of your fingers stroking his face while he caged you between his arms was everything he didn’t know he needed. “you show up in this pretty little dress of yours, did you have this planned?” you gasped when you felt his hand snake under the soft material of your dress, his touch skimming over the waistband of your underwear. “no. ‘just wanted to look pretty for you..” you whispered, those doe eyes of yours beaming up at the man on top of you. “you do. you look perfect.” rafe sighed.
slipping his tongue in your mouth, your eyebrows drew together as you couldn’t help but move your hips against the thigh he had between your legs. rafe looked down, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you rut against him. “does that feel good?” he hiked your dress up, wanting a better view of your clothed cunt. you hummed, your skin flushing as rafe concentrated on the way you moved underneath him. hands roaming your body, there wasn’t an inch of you that went untouched. slipping your dress off, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest.
despite you two being together for a while, the furthest you two had ever gotten was making out and a little groping here and there, but that was it. rafe had no problem waiting until you were ready to go there. you shivered, the chilly air of rafe’s room making your nipples harden right before his eyes. “fuck, bambi..” he cupped one of your tits, a whimper leaving your lips when he leaned down and took the other in his mouth. “are you okay if i do this?” you glanced down at his hand moving your underwear to the side. meeting his eyes, you nodded. “please.”
rafe watched your face morph into one of full blown pleasure when he gathered the wetness at your entrance and glided the tips of his fingers to your clit. “you’re soaked.” he laughed, making you turn your head away from him out of shyness. grabbing your chin, rafe squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to look at him as his fingers started working your sensitive bundle of nerves. you were instantly trying to draw away from his digits, the motions being far too much for you at once. “shhh, don’t run from it,” he licked a stripe up the column of your throat, “let me watch you.” he smiled teasingly.
you smiled back, only for it to be wiped from your face when he slapped your folds, the sensation making you jolt. despite it stinging for a quick second, you started chasing his hand for more. “you want another one?” he slapped you again, this time making your thighs shake, “my little whore likes that, huh?” you were surprised at the name calling, but even more suprised when you found out you liked it. “talk to me, baby. tell me what you want..” his lips ghosted over yours. rafe had gotten you so wet, you could hear your slick with each stroke of his fingers. “wanna go all the way with you, ray..”
rafe swore he could hear the angels singing. he’s been waiting, anticipating for this day to come. “yeah?” he kissed you, slotting himself between your thighs before pulling away from your cunt. “yes. ‘want you so bad!” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. you watched him pop his fingers in his mouth, sucking the remnants of you off of his digits. oh, god. pulling him close, you kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. taking your underwears off in one swift movement, you palmed rafe in his shorts, your eyes widening when you felt how large he was in your hand.
“you’ll be fine, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you..” in rafe’s mind, you had already did this before, but the look on your face was starting to make him think otherwise. his suspicions were confirmed when you looked up at him with watery eyes. “is it going to hurt?” you whimpered, his erection resting heavily on your tummy. rafe studied you for a moment. “you’ve never had sex before?” you shook your head, biting your lip nervously. rafe felt so wrong for being so turned on at the revelation. “have you ever touched yourself?” rafe was on the brink of losing his mind. “no..”
that was it. this man was going to ruin you. “i’m sorry, it’s embarrassing.” you pouted, looking away from him. embarrassing? rafe felt like he could cum right then and there. “that’s not embarrassing at all, baby.” he reassured you, moving away any stray hairs you might’ve had in your face. “you know what that means? that means i get to turn you into my own personal little slut.” his words made butterflies flutter in your stomach. rafe unbuckled his belt, his shorts and boxers now long forgotten. despite being horny out of his mind, rafe still checked to make sure you were okay.
“are you sure about this, bambi?” you watched as he snaked down your body, hooking your thighs to his shoulders. a shaky breath left your lips, your hands intertwining with his as he pressed kisses to your flesh. “yes, i want you-” you were cut off by rafe’s tongue delving into your sweetness. your back arched off of his mattress, your thighs threatening to snap around his head. the only word you could use to describe the noises in rafe’s room was lewd. the slurping, grunting, moaning, it was all hitting you at once that this was actually happening.
rafe was so hard already, his own fist wrapped around his cock as he sloppily lapped at your soaked pussy. he couldn’t get enough. instinctively, you couldn’t help your hips from grinding against his face, your boyfriend doing everything to make you tremble and shake in pure bliss. you freed one of your hands from his grip and trailed it up your chest, squeezing your tit while rafe groaned at the sight. “i haven’t even put any fingers in you, baby, you’re going to be a mess by the time i actually fuck you.” you cried out when he sucked your clit, his middle finger prodding at your entrance.
gasping at the intrusion, rafe shushed you as you whimpered at the unfamiliar stretch. “how are we doing, sweetheart?” he looked up at you, cursing under his breath. you were so fucking tight, he could only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. “..hurts a little.” you took a breath, moaning when he curled his digit. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise baby. ‘gonna make you cum so fucking much.” he continued working on your clit, the added stimulation making your eyes screw shut. rafe waited until you were gasping his name before entering a second finger.
you practically screamed, your hands shooting down to dig your nails into his skin. “rafe, i think i’m!-” you froze, your eyes rolling back as you felt a wave of euphoria wash over you. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. suddenly you couldn’t breathe, your mouth falling open in a silent moan before your legs started to shake. rafe knew you were cumming and it only made him go rougher on you, wanting your first orgasm to be unforgettable. inserting a third finger, your eyes shot open as you thrashed against his sheets, your body trying to retract from him.
“r-rafe, s’too much! i can’t!” your words came out choppy with each breath you tried to take, your boyfriend eventually bringing you down from your high. you had tears rolling down your cheeks, your entire body feeling like jelly as rafe came up from between your thighs. the lower half of his face, and even the tip of his nose, was glistening with your slick. rafe had given you a taste of something you soon felt like you couldn’t get enough of. rafe grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look down where he lined his cock up with your entrance.
you met each other’s eyes, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before he slammed into you, both of you having two different reactions. while rafe doubled over, absolutely enthralled by how tight you were, you were crying, your nails leaving crescents in rafe’s side. you were only able to take half of his length, but rafe was determined to give you the whole thing by the time he was done. while the feeling wasn’t exactly painful, you just felt so full. rafe took your lips in a searing kiss, pulling out before thrusting into you again. “you feel so fucking good, you know that?” he praised you.
rafe started thrusting into you until any sense of discomfort melted away. “oh my god, look at you taking me so fucking well..” rafe whispered against your skin, littering your neck and chest with kisses. wrapping your arms around his neck, you didn’t hold back from moaning underneath him. “rafe go faster, please!” your boyfriend smiled, pulling away momentarily to see that dark look in your eyes. “whatever you want, baby.” you cried out when his hips slammed into your own, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “oh, rafe..” you shuddered, now that you were filled to the brim.
“you’re so perfect, you want this dick everyday?” you nodded frantically, not seeing how you could go without it now. “yeah? i bet you do..” he laughed, “‘been wanting to corrupt you since i got you, baby. your sweet little innocent eyes looking up at me when i would rub you through your panties, you have no idea how bad i wanted to get you naked and fuck you until you were crying for me to stop.” he slapped your cheek, a gasp leaving your lips at the action. “look at you now, you’re gonna be begging for this all the time.. ‘might just fuck a baby into you, huh?” you whimpered at his words.
“i want that.” you panted, his pubic bone slamming down on your clit with each thrust. “yeah? you want me to fill you up? get you all pretty and pregnant?” god, what was happening to you? “yes, ray! i want it so bad, ‘want your babies!” now it was rafe’s turn to get hysterical, the idea of you growing round with his seed turned him on beyond belief. “fuck!” he grunted, “oh, i wanna see that so bad, ‘want you walking around tanneyhill with your tummy full. everyone will know what we did.. what you let me do to you.” rafe didn’t care if it was the heat of the moment making you two talk like this, he just knew that you were it for him.
“how about i breed you right now, bambi? you want that?” he hoped you’d say yes, considering he wasn’t going to last very long. when he felt you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in, he nearly lost it by how turned on he was that you wanted the same thing. “please give it to me!” you cried, your boyfriend pulling you into his chest where he embraced you, making you unable to move away from him. you buried your face in his neck, biting down on his flesh as his hips stuttered, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum inside of you. you relished in the feeling, your walls milking him for all that he had.
“son of a- fuck! you’re squeezing me so fucking hard.” he shivered, the feeling of you gripping him from the base was undeniably the best thing he’s ever felt. reaching down, rafe rubbed hard circles on your clit until you came around him, only making you spasm even more. after you had raked your nails down his torso, and drew blood from biting him so hard, rafe had pulled out of you with a hiss, not a single drop of cum dribbling out. you had taken it all. “holy shit, are you okay, babe?” you looked spent. droopy eyes, swollen lips, tear stained cheeks, rafe thought you couldn’t get any more prettier than this.
you spotted the bite mark on his neck. “ray, you’re bleeding..” you attempted to sit up but failed pathetically when your arms gave out from under you. “s’okay.. stay right here, i’ll be right back.” you were dazed, your vision hazy as rafe went to grab a cold towel. when he came back, the blood from the curve of his neck was gone and he wrapped you in his sheets. dabbing the towel on your forhead, you suppressed a giggle at his ministrations. “i’m okay, rafe.” you pecked his cheek, grabbing his arm so he could spoon you. pressing a kiss to your temple, he massaged soothing circles into your side.
“you were so good for me, baby..” he whispered, his words making your heart flutter in your chest. “you promise i wasn’t some amateur?” rafe shushed you, a laugh tumbling from his mouth. “no way, you were great. i don’t know how we’re gonna get through a day without ravaging each other.” you hummed, already daydreaming about the next time. “did you mean what you said earlier? about wanting a baby?” rafe turned you around so you were face to face. you trailed a finger down his jaw. “well, i’ve always wanted kids..” you smiled. “with me though?” rafe’s eyes softened when you nodded.
“with only you..”
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dreaisgrayte · 5 months ago
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Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.
Word Count: 4.9k
a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3
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“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?
He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 
It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 
Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 
When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 
“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 
You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 
Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 
Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 
Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 
“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.
The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 
It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 
You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 
Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 
He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 
You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 
“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 
You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 
Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 
She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 
The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 
He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 
You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 
His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 
You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 
A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 
He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.
Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 
Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 
The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?
With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 
It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy. 
“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 
“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 
He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 
You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 
“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 
“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 
He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 
Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 
Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 
Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 
Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 
The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 
“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 
Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 
“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 
Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 
The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 
Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 
He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 
Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 
“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 
“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 
You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 
“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 
Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.
Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 
“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 
This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.
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talaok · 5 months ago
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Win Again
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x sex worker f!reader
Summary: Marcus has won yet another match, so to reward him, his master has granted him another hour with you.
warning: smut| unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), a whole lot of manhandling, he like uses your body idk how to explain it, multiple orgasms, and once again unnecessary feelings cause im not able to write something where they just fuck for some reason
a/n: i know im two days late but PLEASE read this still. (also) basic things for this guy that i've decided are canon: 1)he has a monster cock, like actually scarily big, 2) he's real fucking strong (hulk typa shit), 3) he's not a big talker (but he is a grunter). I need this man to fuck me more than i need my next breath (real), also i did so much research for this fic and you cant even fucking tell
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It wasn't often that you didn't dread going to the barracks.
These were strong, ferocious, and dangerous men, and you were but a meek lamb in comparison.
But today was different, today you were seeing him, him who fit the previous description to a tee, and yet was so different from any man you had ever offered your services to.
And perhaps it was because it never felt like you were ever offering anything, ever since that first night, you had never given anything you hadn't wanted to.
The guards stopped as you arrived at his room and you felt a wave of excitement crawl up your spine the moment they opened the door, waiting for you to enter.
The armored men stepped aside to let you pass, the cobblestones on the ground sounding against your sandals as you made your way inside, looking back at the door just in time to see it being shut close.
It was his breathing you heard first, his heavy breathing coming from where you knew his bed sat on the room's left, and seconds after, the creaks of the wood as he stood up, his feet stalking your way.
You turned to him then, a smile almost making it to your lips as you saw him alive before you once again, granting yourself a second to relish in the fact he still breathed, he was still here.
"You've won again" you spoke softly, your hands slowly finding the string holding your dress together.
He didn't respond. The window behind him caused the moon's soft glow to fall on the stone floor, but not on his beautiful face, that, you had to watch closely to inspect.
A newer cut right above his left eyebrow had appeared, and his right arm was bandaged almost completely, but otherwise, he looked fine.
His eyes remained on yours until you'd undone the dress, until it fell at your feet- then, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he took you in, and took his turn inspecting every inch of your bare figure.
"How do you want m-"
You didn't have time to finish your sentence that he'd picked you up, effortlessly pulling your body up until your legs slung over his shoulders and his face was buried in your cunt.
He hadn't even given you a second to realize what was happening that his tongue was already lapping between your folds, desperately drinking everything your body gave him.
"Oh my g-" you threw your head back, your skull finding the wall behind you being the only reason you realized he'd moved, and you were now caged between him and stone as you forgot how to speak.
The moans you had faked so many times for so many clients were nothing like the ones your mouth was spilling now, these were higher, coarser, feral, and the way you were gripping his hair... there was no way that didn't hurt.
"Y-You only" a whine interrupted your words when you felt his tongue plunge into your hole, when he started fucking you with it just like he would with his cock "You only h-have me for an hour" you breathed, your thighs squeezing tighter around him contradicting the words you were about to speak "d-don't you want me to p-please you?"
His grip on your ass only tightened and his mouth halfheartedly parted from your core to answer you.
"You are"
And just like that, he'd gone back to work. The moment his mouth closed around your clit you knew you were done for, you knew there was no point in fighting what was inevitably going to come, and so you shut your eyes, as he brought you to heaven.
Your moans were getting higher and higher as your back arched to feed more of yourself to him, desperately craving the feel of his touch, of his nouse, of his beard against your thighs, of the lips he so devoutly was using to suck on your most sensitive spot.
"F-fuck- general I-" The fist you had wrapped around his hair tightened as every muscle in your belly did the same "Oh!"
Somehow, through all the chaos, while you were coming all over his face, while your moans reached levels never reached before, the only thing you could feel or hear, besides pure ecstasy of course, were his groans, his groans as he drank up every drop of your juices, as if your orgasm was bringing his as much pleasure as it was to you.
You barely had time to open your eyes that his strong, big hands and even stronger, bigger arms had pulled you down until your legs hugged his waist instead.
You really did weigh nothing for him, and if that wasn't enough to prove it, the next minutes definitely would.
Your heavy breathing was fanning over his mouth as he freed his cock from his pants, but while you were expecting him to kiss you, having been blatantly staring at your mouth since he had any way of seeing it, every thought in your brain turned to dust when with one hard fucking thrust, he drove his cock into you- or the first few inches at least.
You couldn't talk, you could do nothing but throw your head back as your eyes rolled to the back of it, and let him take whatever he wanted to take.
"I'm not a general anymore," he said with another thrust, stretching you out even further, even deeper.
You wanted to laugh at his words. Now? Now he was feeling the need to correct you? When you could barely breathe, let alone think?
But he didn't look interested in hearing a response from you, not when he grabbed your waist, and definitely not when he started moving you up and down on his shaft with just the sheer force of his muscles.
The moans, the lewd moans that crawled up your throat were filthy, even filthier than the sound of how wet, how unbelievably drenched you were as he plunged into you over and over, as he literally used you as a fucktoy, filling you up more and more, until he was finally sat inside you to the very hilt, until his pubic hairs were grazing your skin and the tip of his cock was touching your cervix.
"Oh my god" you whimpered, feeling tears prick your eyes as your toes curled at the feeling.
You could feel him everywhere, everywhere.
But he didn't pause, he wasn't one to take his time, and perhaps that was because he didn't have much; he resumed his movements again, retracting his hips while he pulled you up his cock, and slamming into you while pushing you down on it, leaving you breathless, a simple doll at his mercy.
His groans and growls were deep and filled with lust, just like the way he bent down to take your left tit into his mouth, just like the way he was fucking you, deep and hard, and God- God it was happening again.
"s-shit" you squeaked, your walls squeezing around him as you bit your lip, so fucked out you could barely remember your name or anything at all that wasn't how good he was making you feel.
"O-Oh my fuck-"
The arms you had intertwined behind his neck tightened with every spasm of your hole, with every flutter of your belly, until you'd come once more.
You opened your eyes, letting them trail downwards, to where his lips parted to suck in ragged breaths, begging him for a kiss.
"again" he said instead, and your eyes widened as you felt him starting to move anew
"I-I can't"
He looked at you now, really looked at you, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, and then- then he kissed you. Marcus Acacius kissed you the same way he'd been fucking you for the last hour: like an animal.
It was a mess of teeth and tongues and yet it felt like the best thing on earth, better than wine, better than life, even better than the sex- it was perfect.
"again" he ordered once more, and what could you do, if not comply?
So he started again, he started fucking you again, even more ferociously than the previous time, even if you didn't think it possible.
The way his skin slapped with yours was drowned by both your desperate sounds, your legs started to tremble, beginning to fall from his hips as he moved you up and down his cock like it were nothing, and you- you didn't even know where you were anymore.
"please" you begged, a single tear of pleasure, of overstimulation falling to your cheek as he kissed you again, muting all your cries as he drove himself into you like a madman, like he was possessed.
"Time's up"
Two knocks sounded from the other side of the wall together with the warning, and you thanked Marcus for having rendered you such a mess because otherwise, that would have reminded you of how little time you two ever had, and how miserable everything really was.
His movements sped up at the notice, his dick plunging into you over and over and over until finally, it was happening again.
"give it to me" he said, and you did exactly as he asked- you gave it all to him, screaming and crying you let him have all you had to offer, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.
He came loudly just after you, groaning deeply as he filled you up to the very brim.
Out of all the words you could have said to him then, all the things you wanted to tell him at that moment, you chose none, because none would have said anything he didn't already know from the look in your eyes, from the same exact spark in your irises that ignited his own.
So he helped you to the ground until you stood on shaky legs, walked to where your dress lay on the floor, and dressed yourself again, his eyes never leaving you.
The door opened just as you were done, and you turned to him one last time again, a smile pulling at your lips.
"Win again for me, general"
He looked at you too for one last time again, as he thought about how you didn't know, you didn't know how big of a role you played in his victories, how many times he could only think of the taste of you, smell of you, feel and voice of you as he took his opponent's life, as he fought for another hour with you, another second.
"I will" he promised
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chobunz · 3 months ago
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── desperation. ( psh ) 📠
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pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k
imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..
this is my very first ever post on enhablr !
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.
“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”
sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)
you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.
hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.
“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.
“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.
as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.
though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.
“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.
“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.
“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.
you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.
you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?
“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.
“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.
“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.
taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.
his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.
sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.
“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.
he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.
“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.
your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.
“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.
“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.
“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.
the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.
sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.
“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.
you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”
“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.
“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.
“yeah, you do actually.”
“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.
“a real date.”
“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.
“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.
you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.
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yandere-wishes · 4 months ago
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Alice in Marvel-land
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𐙚Yandere! Deadpool (Wade Wilson) x Reader x Yandere Wolverine (Logan Howlett)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ In some worlds, you were Logan's little darling. In others, you were Wade's starry-eyed lover. But here in the void, there is only one of you and two of them.
⁀➷ GORE, yandere behavior, kidnapping, Deadpool being Deadpool.
⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ IDK, probs the Deadpool and Wolverine soundtrack
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Logan feels the world slipping away.
Piece by piece, atom by atom.
In a blink, he's falling down darkness.
An endless rabbit hole.
What was the name of that fairy tale you liked so much?
The one with the girl who gets lost in splendor?
The dust is kicking up, framing the sunset portrait along the horizon.
The envoys are nearly home, this time they've brought someone back. The cage balls chime along the unsteady road. If you squint just far enough you can almost make out vibrant specks of red and yellow.
Strange, the void tends to wash out bright colors. Well, it tends to wash out just about everything.
You scrape your nails along the skeleton's sockets. Leave crescents in the decaying cartilage. "They're almost here" you call out awaiting Cassandra's next move. You watch dolefully as she's transfixed on a portal. The sparky thing unfurled like a fresh wound, strewing salt on persistent lacerations. She watches her brother, or well some variation of her brother. Surrounded by his new family, surrounded by those he loves. He's forgotten her, or maybe never even knew her. You think that the latter would hurt the most.
"Cassandra" Your voice rises in octave, this time getting her attention. "They're here".
"Coming" She sings, voice so chip it almost sounds like unshed tears. You send a final glare at the portal before it collapses on itself.
If you tried hard enough, maybe you could bring yourself to understand her pain. Those pesky notions of desperation for someone to love. But it
doesn't matter now everyone you've ever loved is dead anyway. And unlike Cassandra, you've long since given up on the childish dreams of being rescued by someone who would offer up love so freely.
"Maybe shut up now"
Logan's nerves are frying. Thin strings snapping with every syllable that leaves the red merc's mouth. He's starting to appreciate Stryker in a way he didn't even know he could. The man was a psychotic sadist but at least he knew when to sew someone's mouth shut. Maybe he can convince this Cassadra chick to do the same.
Logan's eyes are almost at 90 degrees of a roll when they stop. He stops, frozen. In the gaping mouth of the rotting skull, something all too familiar stands.
Or rather someone.
Someone he knew.
Someone he loved.
Your name tastes bitter on his tongue. All death and whisky.
Maybe cause it's been so long since the attack. Since he walked off for the night and left his family to die. Cause the last time he saw you, you were a mangled corpse laying in an open grave. Deadweight as he cradled you in his arms.
You walk closer. Face painted in too many shades of confusion.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Damn, he's started quoting that stupid book again.
"How do you know my name" You ask. You look just as beautiful as he remembers. Spine carved straight in pride with perfect lips, perfect eyes. His talons itch to glide across your soft skin, to feel you so intimately once more.
"LOOOGAN did you see what the bald chick just- HEY!!"
It takes too much effort to pull his gaze away. To stare at red and black and be reminded of cruel realities. But Wade has a tendency to be a persistent ache, some unwelcomed anchor to every problem he's ever had.
Only this time when he actually looks at him. Looks at the jittery body that's stilled abruptly. He can't help but be glad that he did. A bitter laugh bubbles in his throat. Maybe Wade's shut up for good this time.
He always knew you were special but this is truly a miracle.
"IT'S YOU!!"
Nope, didn't work. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.
Wade whispers your name, a forgotten prayer. Logan didn't even know the loudmouth knew how to pray. But he seems to almost soften when he sees you. That feral, cheeky killer, looks so so soft when he stares into your doe-eyes. Reaching out zealously to twirl a lock of your hair around his blood-soaked finger.
He can almost feel Wade choking on your essence, heart erratic, like a child finding a lost toy. He's drowning in ecstasy, and Logan is almost tempted to join him. You're here, a breath away. So close it's taking every ounce of self-control not to pull you to his chest and keep you locked between his arms until he finally dies too.
"Penunt look that's my girl!!"
"Your girl!?"
He had taken you for granted as he tends to do with most peaceful things. The realization had occurred a little too late. Right as he had been emptying a round into the target of the week's head.
He lands.
Arms high like an Olympian pleasing the crowd.
He wonders if he can make you cheer for him.
Clap and shout his name as he twirls around the mess he's made.
He wants to feel loved, although he'll never say it out loud. He's only ever been good with words when they're laced with sarcasm and profanity.
And maybe 'I love you' is just about the most obscene thing he can ever say to someone as sweet as you.
Wade plays the white rabbit, fluffy coat stained red from every kill. Tricking poor Alice into following him down cruel rabbit holes. Making you chase him through labyrinths then leaving you at every turn. He leads you to every kill, makes you watch as he dances in slaughter. He can even feel your eyes right now. Starlight slicing him open to quench vulgar interests.  
Alice always follows the rabbit.
He stalks closer, white eyes fixated on your deliciously bewildered expression. Precious thing caught in a warzone. He can almost taste you on his tongue, the sharp tip of a star slivering the inside of his mouth, soft hands painting crescent moons along the back of his neck. He needs to carve his essence across your lips, to pour the after-kill adrenaline into your soul. He needs you.
Only this time...
This time he'd been too distracted. So caught up in claiming you as his victory prize that he didn't notice the grizzled man clinging to life...
And a pistole.
The bullet punctures his shoulder. An afterthought.
But the lead keeps going.
Penetrating the air until it lands bunglingly between your eyes.
You fall into his arms.
Deadweight.
Did the white rabbit ever miss Alice?
Did he ever realize how truly special such a curious girl made him feel?
He doubts it.
Doubts that a stupid rodent would have better emotional stability than him.
He's been given a second chance. A whole plethora of them actually. He's been deemed holy, righteous. And aren't gifts of marvel bestowed upon the truly blessed? What better blessing than the sight of you standing amongst the sand and skulls?
Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...
He lets the blood trickle down his claws.
What else is there to do but dream of you?
It's the fourth day of his massacre and he's lost count of how many humans he's killed. Maybe cause after the first hundred the faces tend to blur.
He leaves your pleasants in between the rotting carcasses and broken glass. Only taking the torturous parts of you. The things that can hurt him. The sharp edges that he can slit his pulse point on, the vague memory of your glare before you cried. The soft skin of your neck between his jagged teeth.
Enough to keep the hate burning.
He wonders if the creatures of Wonderland wept after Alice left. He wonders if Wonderland lost its wonder.
But now you're standing here.
Alive.
And he wants so badly to remember the sweet taste of your lips. The soft push against his chapped lips as he swallows you whole. Even desperate rabbits can go a little feral. His eyes take in every breath, every scowl.
Alive.
Alive.
Alive.
Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...
Aliath skids forward, mystified in lightning and smoke. You feel your bones collapsing under the rugged man's, Logan's, vice grip. You thrash and scream trying to break free but he only barks out orders to his friend before they take off running.
"Your safe, don't worry we got you." There's a comedic cadence to every word Wade says. You can almost fool yourself into enjoying it if the two weren't actively attempting to defy Cassandra, to defy Aliath, to defy deities and absolutes. To ripe you away from the only semblance of opulence you've come to know.
"Let me go, you custome-wearing freaks." His gripe tenses. "Don't struggle so much, we said you're safe, now hold still" Logan's anger ripples through you. It's almost muscle memory to still, to obey.
Did you know him? Know them?
In some past life too out of reach?
The ground shutters to a jagged rhythm. You're flying up, escaping the misty horrors of the ground. Your head pounds with the force, air slapping across your body as you taste the cotton of the clouds between your teeth.
Is this how Alice felt as her head hit the roof?
Wade mutters about the stars and educated wishes. About people who live and matter. Logan slices through his thigh, the mercenary's optimism making his body ring with phantom pains.
No one matters.
And when they start to, they die.
There are cruel absolutes in this world. He's tasted them all. Let them slice his tongue and heart and danced to every tune they've sung. He rips his claws out and digs them into Wade's chest.
Again
And again.  
Wade savors the salty tang of blood inside his mouth.
Licks his teeth and runs his tongue over the gaping holes.
He's sitting in the front seat head rolled back.
High off the blood and adrenaline and the thought of having you so close.
"I take it all back, the Honda odysseys fucks hard"
Bones crack, interrupted mid-heal as Logan turns his head to glare. "Shut up" he rasps and Wade almost, almost, hears approval.
There's a low moan reverberating across the broken car. Late night sleepy mumble that's half 'I love you' and half 'I need you'. Neither one has heard it in such a long time.
"Finally awake sleeping beauty? Kinda surprised you could sleep through all of that" Wade shimmies to the back, only to be greeted by your foot smashing into his face, cracking his nose open, and sending a fresh wave of blood into his mouth. He pins your knee to the seat and wiggles himself between you. caging you with his elbows as he stares down at your pretty face. "Miss me, angel baby?"
"Wrong fairy tale" Logan turns around in his seat, claws out running them across your cheek "Please stop, just let me go" you've never begged before, never fallen so low. But these two things, mutants, mutates, or whatever they are, scare you. Reckless, suicidal, dangerous. You feel so helpless in their presence. Never knowing you're to be kissed or killed.
"You're as lovely as I remember" The melancholy colors him in a monochrome of sympathy. Here is a man who's gone through every horror and still gets out of bed. Or maybe he has to, maybe he can't quite die and can't quite reach heaven. So he gulps down his immortality with black coffee to at least pretend he's being buried six feet deep. "Even after all this time I still love you" You almost melt in his brown eyes. So lonely, so desperate.
Kill or kiss
You want him to do both. Want to kiss extinction on his lips while being impaled by the claws. Kill or kiss.
Both, both, both.
"You know~" Wade pushes himself up, "I think your dress should be red...and black. To match your favorite man."
"Who the hell said you were the favorite?" Wade leans forward, in a blink he's gripped Logan's wrist and lunged the Wolvarine's claws into your abdomen.
You writhe, the bones and metal feel almost heavenly inside of you. When he retracts the claws you moan out, it's too saccharine to hold back. Everything feels so much lighter, colorful. You feel your essence slipping out, gushing over the back seat.
Red waterfall, so pretty.
Dress stained red.
"Told ya so!"
Wade pulls you roughly by the shoulders and smashes his lips against yours. He's so cute, fickle Cheshire cat, tongue dancing across your mouth, slitting itself on your peaked teeth, and filling your mouth with thick red caterpillar smoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really are God's perfect idiot" Logan's anger is tangible, sweet, and bitter like hatter tea at midnight.
"S'okay Logan, it feels nice" Your words slur, slipping gauche from your tongue as you giggle profusely. You feel like Alice cracking open Wonderland's ribs, crawling inside, and smearing the wonder across your face.
"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one" You've heard these words before, Alice's words. she's right. Your fairy tale is painted red with pretty, crazy, princes who think that slicing open a princess is easier than kissing her. You reach out for Logan, desperate for a kiss. "eat me" you mutter, and Logan's face morphs into pure terror "Wade what the hell have you done to her?".
"What? It's better this way trust me"
"I hate you"
Logan bends, meeting you halfway. He kisses you with all the wary of a dead man walking. All teeth and heart and bitter memories left to rot three lifetimes ago. He pushes himself between your bones, trying to carve out his ethos in your body. He'd burn the world so long as he gets to keep you.
You squeeze your thighs around Wade's muscular thighs and hips unlocking a gibby giggle from the man. His mask is half pulled up as he trails sloppy fervorous kisses across your neck and chest. The nostalgia slithering under your skin has you squirming, you've been through this all before. In a past life somewhere where storm monsters and voids don't exist. "Remember how good this feels?" Wade mumbles as his fingers dig into your puncture wounds, drawing slow, desperate moans from your puffy lips. You don't dare answer you don't know what would be worst admitting to liking the loudmouth ministrations or admitting there were other versions of you out there, other happy versions.
"Oh for hell's sake," Logan reclines the front seat and shuffles closer. Pulling down the back of your dress. His kisses are bite marks in disguise rabid and feral, the two things the man will never escape. His name rolls across your tongue, you let it slip in an airy moan. "No fair " Wade complains "I want you to say my name too." He pulls out his baby knife and etches the skin of your thighs. Scribbling doodles of stars and half hearts and the little symbol he wears on his belt. "W-wade" you gasp never knowing whether to scream in pain or giggle in bliss.
Logan laughs into your neck. You didn't even know he was capable of such a gentle thing. You bite his lip playfully. Dragging your fingers across his muscular arms. Your thumb pushes into the space between his knuckles asking for the claws. For the most macabre parts of him. You glide your tongue across the parish where flesh meets metal. Kissing the metal and bones and lapping at the blood. Watch curiously as he draws out a long airy sigh. "Good girl" he mumbles voice marred with ecstasy and you almost see the ghost of a smile smear across his pretty lips.
Wade's thumb gently rubs against your hips. Softly usering you into peace, tranquility. Your eyes get heavy, the car gets blurry. The grotesque realignment of their bones steering you into a deep, content sleep.
"Hey Peanut, you think Alice in Wonderland here would mind if we keep going? "  
"Shut it, moron "
"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if only I knew how to begin.”
🎀Bonus
Deadpool: "Do you think the author's going to write about us again? Or is she planning to finally write that Dune fic she keeps talking about?
Wolverine: "I have no fucking idea what the hell you're even talking about.
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🪐@yandere-romanticaa @bad4amficideas @sugarplumz100 @oscarissac2099 @facelessfionna @siphite @tocotuesday69 @linoleunm @mei-simp @shamelessdarkprince @gabriqllas @lovely-liliacs @shiroi-asashin17 @failinguniversity
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subleop · 11 months ago
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100 Kinky asks 😈
Top bottom or vers?
Dom, sub, switch?
On a scale of 0 to 10 how kinky would you say you are?
How many people have you had sex with last year?
What size is your penis?
When was your most recent boner?
When did you last cum?
How often do you jerk off?
What is the last thing you jerked off to?
Where did you last cum?
Are you hornier in the morning or evening?
What are your 3 favorite kinks?
What are your limits?
What kink would you most like to try?
What kink have you tried but didn’t enjoy?
Do you have a master/sub?
What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve done?
Favorite piece of underwear you own?
What underwear would you like to buy/be gifted? (pics welcome)
What underwear are you wearing right now and how long have you been wearing it?
Have you ever been wearing a jock or a thong to work?
Have you ever gone to work commando?
What socks are you wearing right now and how long have you been wearing them?
What shoes are you wearing right now and how long have you been wearing them?
Have you ever sniffed someone else’s underwear, socks or sneakers? Or made someone sniff yours?
Have you ever come inside a sock? A sneaker/boot?
Are you into body smells? What kind?
Are you into pits?
How hairy are you?
Do you prefer hairy or smooth?
Do you like being shaven by a dom/shaving a sub?
Do you like humiliation?
Do you enjoy exposing a sub/being exposed?
Do you like dirty talk? What names do you like calling/being called by?
Do you like spitting/being spitted on?
Do you like being punished/punishing a sub?
Do you enjoy receiving/inflicting pain? How strong?
What is your favorite pain instrument?
Do you like giving a spanking/getting spanked?
Do you like slapping/getting slapped?
Have you ever gotten marks/given a sub marks from impact play?
Would you hit a sub’s balls/let someone hit your balls?
Do you like chastity?
Have you ever worn a chastity device/been a keyholder? For how long?
Are you wearing a cage/keeping someone locked right now?
What is your favorite chastity device? Do you own any?
Do you like cock rings?
Do you like choking/being choked? How strong?
Do you like breath control?
Do you enjoy gas masks?
Have you ever tried poppers? Do you like that?
Do you like ass play?
What’s the largest thing you have fitted in your ass/someone else’s ass?
Do you own any ass toys? Which kind?
What’s your favorite thing to put inside your ass/someone’s ass?
Do you like getting fingered? How many fingers can you fit?
Do you like fist? Have you ever tried?
Is there anything in your ass right now?
What’s your prepping routine? Are you naturally clean?
Do you like rimming? Being rimmed?
Have you ever worn a toy in public?
Do you own any fetish gear?
Are you into leather?
Are you into spandex?
Do you own a rubber suit?
Are you into pup play? Do you own any gear?
Do you like putting a collar on a sub/being collared up?
Do you like holding your sub on a leash/being leashed up?
Do you like tying up/being tied up?
Do you own any bondage gear? What’s your favorite?
How long have you ever kept someone/been tied up?
Do you enjoy sensory deprivation?
Do you like putting a gag on a sub/being gagged?
Do you like mummification?
Do you like tickle torture?
Do you like consensual non-consensual?
Do you like role play? What scenario turns you on?
Do you like piss/watersports? How hard do you like it?
Have you ever tasted your own piss?
Have you ever tasted another man’s piss? Has another man ever tasted your own?
Have you ever pissed yourself/made someone piss themselves for fun?
Do you get turned on at public urinals?
Do you get turned on pissing in public/seeing other men piss in public?
Are you into farting on someone/being farted on?
Have you ever farted on someone/been farted on for fun?
Are you into scat? How hard would you like to go?
Have you ever tried scat play?
Have you ever given/received a blumpkin?
Are you into sounding?
What’s your darkest fantasy?
Do you like anonymous public sex? Ever tried a glory hole?
Have you ever visited a gay bathhouse? A cruising bar?
Have you ever attended an orgy?
Have you ever attended a fetish event?
Have you ever had sex with a straight friend?
Do you watch porn often? What’s your favorite way to watch it?
Do you read smut?
Do you have many kinky friends? Do your friends now you’re kinky?
Do you have a kinky partner?
Truth or dare? 😈
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dolcettamagica · 9 months ago
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥
ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au
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tags: degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, true form sukuna notes: minors dni, one sequel to "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴" - you decided to not text your boss Sukuna wc: 1.3k
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Sukuna was fuming with rage as he sat at his work desk, eyes glued on his door waiting for you to finally come in. He gave you his private number, a number no one got (since he mainly fucked women at work anyway) and you didn’t call him? Not even bother to sent a message? Did you even save his number? Sukuna's rage was a tempest, a storm swirling within him, threatening to burst forth and consume everything in its path. His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned bone-white, his jaw tensed, muscles coiling like springs ready to snap. Each breath he took felt like fire searing his lungs, fueling the inferno of his fury.
It wasn't just anger; it was a primal force, raw and unbridled. How could you crawl over to him like a slut and then just ghost him. After he left the bar he couldn’t even get his cock soft – it waited to be buried deep inside your cunt. Suddenly (and finally) his door opened and you walked into the room, your eyes staring at the floor.
“Good morning, sir”, you greeted him sheepishly.
“Lock the fucking door and come over here, now.”
Your boss didn’t even bother to hide his anger and you were smart enough not to question his mood. Without a word you walked over to his desk. His red eyes were burning holes into your skin.
“Why didn’t you text me? I told you to do that”, Sukuna stood up, his fingers tapping on his wooden desk as he moved closer to you.
“I don’t think that would have been appropriate, sir.”
As the words hit his ears, a surge of anger coursed through Sukuna's veins like a bolt of lightning. The sentence struck him with the force of a physical blow. His jaw clenched so tight it felt as though his teeth might shatter under the pressure. A torrent of emotions roiled within him, a turbulent sea of indignation and frustration threatening to engulf him entirely. How could you dare utter such words, he seethed inwardly, feeling his temper flare hotter with each passing moment. Every fiber of his being screamed for retribution, for a release of the pent-up rage festering within him. Yet, beneath the anger, there simmered a sense of hurt, a wounded pride that stoked the flames of his fury even higher.
“Inappropriate, huh?” Sukuna's heart pounded with an adrenaline-fueled rhythm as he pressed you against his workdesk, his palm firmly planted beside you, caging you in. The suddenness of his action caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise before a flicker of excitement danced within you. His gaze bore into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, a silent declaration of desire. The scent of your perfume filled his senses, intoxicating him further as he leaned in.
“You know what’s inappropriate? All the times you went on break just to rub your little pussy after I praised you. The way you press your legs together in an attempt to not cum all over the place after I yell at colleagues who fuck up their work. You think I’m dumb, little one?”
Sukuna's lips grazed your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. The faintest touch of his lips against your skin ignited a fire within you, a wave of sensation coursing through your body like electricity. His kisses were rough and urgent, each one leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His grip tightened on your arm, a rough urgency in his movements as he spun you around, your back now pressed firmly against Sukuna’s chest. The suddenness of his action caused your breath to catch in your throat, your heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. His touch was possessive yet intoxicating, sending a jolt of desire coursing through your veins. With your back against him, you could feel the heat of his body, the strength of his embrace and his hard cock pressing against your ass.
“You need to be punished, baby, Was waiting for you the night to text me”, he whispered into your ears before taking a step back, “Bend over the desk, slut.”
As you leaned over your boss's desk, the air seemed to crackle with tension. Your movements were graceful, yet purposeful, the lines of your silhouette casting a spell of allure. With each subtle shift, the fabric of your blouse hugged your curves, your skirt rocking up, teasingly revealing hints of the allure beneath. Sukuna, momentarily captivated by the sight before him, struggled to maintain his composure and not just fuck you right there and then.
“You’ve been a bad girl”, all of sudden, without any kind of warning, his hand smacked down on your ass, earning a small squeal, “You a little cocktease, huh? Knew damn well how fucking soaked you got after our simple kiss and then you decided to not text me after?”
“I-I’m sorry, sir”, he whimpered as another blow hit your ass. Sukuna pulled your skirt down to the ground, exposing your behind. Now it would start to hurt.
“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, baby. I wanted to fill you up real good last night. I would have come over just to let you bounce on my cock. Beg for forgiveness, slut.”  And once again he smacked your ass.
“I’m sorry” Another blow. “Pl-please…Please forgive me, Mr. Sukuna.” Another blow. Your ass was turning red at this point. “I’m begging you pl–please…ahh.” That moan was everything Sukuna needed to hear – so needy and eager, he imagined you would love for him to manhandle you like this. Such a dirty whore.
You were a begging, trembling mess before him and he loved every inch of the view. Grinning he reached his hand out, his finger grazing over your thong covered slit. “Soaked through your panties already, baby? That’s all it got? Some dirty talk and spanking? Want daddy to help you out?”
Self-respect? Professionalism? Everything left your body as soon as he called himself daddy. “Yes, please help me out, daddy.”
“Now you’re a good girl.” Sukuna pulled your thong down and you groaned as you felt him use his finger to circle your clit. Seemed like daddy knew your body well, knew the pressure and the patterns that could turn you into a stuttering and groaning mess. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you shifted slightly to make him go deeper. His fingers fucked you open so well, deepening his strokes to rub your g-spot and draw you closer to the edge. You felt yourself give in to him, becoming more wet as he continued touching your clit and pumping his fingers into your sloppy cunt as well.
“You’re so fucking wet for me. Can you hear it? How my fingers ram in and out of your slutty hole, huh? Clenching me so well, sucking me in. Tell daddy what you want, little one, tell me.”
“D–daddy…please, please fuck me”, Sukuna never stopped fingering your hole and restarted spanking your ass, “I need your cock, daddy, ahh– I’m begging you to fill me up.”
You heard Sukuna unzipping his pants, something warm now pushing against your entrance about to replace his fingers.
“I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll call me your god.”
Maybe you were way too horny and desperate, losing touch with reality because suddenly you felt two hands grabbing your waist while two other hands wrapped around your body and cupped your tits. Sukuna rammed his cock into your pussy but you could feel something even thicker and bigger laying on your ass.
“You’re my favorite human, little one.”
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vicariousresearcher · 22 days ago
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concept: hybrid needing a knot during their heat but none of the 141 has one...........they learn that two dicks is a good replacement
cw: heat, hybrid!reader, afab reader, double pen, underwear stealing, degradation, dub-con ish not really.
Canine hybrid! Reader who's been a bitch lately.
Mouthing off, flashing teeth, scrapping your claws at the leather collar banded over your throat, snarling like the feral animal you were when you first came to them.
Just being an absolute hellion to be around. 
The team think it ends there though. Just some mood swings and being territorial. You’ll get over whatevers bothering you.
You however were keenly aware of the changes going through your body; the restlessness that itched in your muscles, the almost overstimulating nature of even the most basic things, the more primitive part of your brain lighting up.
And of course the slick between your thighs. Having to change your panties in the morning because you’d soaked them through. And that's of course just throughout the nights. Days are worse. Spending all that time with the team, your body trying its hardest to convince you that the friendly pat on your shoulder was, in fact, not platonic.
And it's just getting worse the longer you ignore it. Accumulating in you locking yourself in your room after you were dumb enough to spar with Soap. All chidding comments and tangled limbs.
Getting tossed and restrained. Snapping teeth only to get a tug on your ear. Your face getting slammed into the mat and a goading ‘all that attitude and this is all you can do?’
Completely ignorant to the heat simmering under your skin and the patch of fabric between your legs where you’d soaked through to your pants.
……..
You practically ran away with your tail between your legs. Pissy and annoyed. Gaz saw the glare in your eyes as you walked past him in the hallway, recalling how Soap said the way to get you out of your funk was to beat it out of you because of course Soap thought that would work.
Didn’t take long for him to find the Scot and prod for some answers to what exactly he did. Rubbing some brain cells together they decided maybe a better solution was to be nice. Ask you to come watch a movie with em in the common room as an apology.
…….
They should’ve knocked, both decided silently. Assumed that you were in your room fuming and pacing like a caged lion.
What they didn’t expect to see was this.
Their dignified teammate, their hybrid, like this.
Lights off, straddling a pillow, bare from the waist down. Pitiful mewls muffled by the bunched-up fabric in your hand. Pressing it over your mouth and nose. Sticky noises from how fervently rode the slick soaked pillow. Choking when the seam caught over your clit.
All it took was one too thick swallow and your flattened ears perked up. Eyes snapping to the doorway. 
Took all of five seconds for you to retreat into the corner of your bed. A death grip on the pillow between your legs to maintain a semblance of dignity. The sneer on your face a perfect picture of humiliation and anger.
“This is why you ran off so quick?” Gaz said with a chuckle, breaking the silence. Pity creasing his brows as he connected the reason to your sudden change in behaviour.
He’s the one that moved first, leaving Soap at the door who was currently rebooting as he saw that the fabric in your hand was his boxers.
Took the time to adjust the chubbing in his pants before kicking the door shut. 
Pillows fluffed and padded around the bed like some sort of nest. Blankets-no-clothes strewn about. Ghosts hoodie here, Gaz’s track pants there. The shirt you wore having ‘Price’ on the breast. Just proving you’d been suffering like this for a while. Long enough to collect all this.
Your ears pinned back at their approach. Growl failing. Too high pitched, a needy whine.
The mattress sinks when Gaz places a knee on it. Up close he can see how dilated your pupils are. Feel the feverish heat your skin is emitting. One look and he knows you’ve gone nonverbal like how you do during stress on the field.
“Jesus, you had Price worried. Thought something was actually wrong with how you’ve been actin’.” 
Gaz says with a half smile. Like this was fucking funny or something-
As if seeing the impending snarl he closes in. Calloused hand smoothing over the side of your head, scratching the base of your ear affectionately. Voice sweet enough for the condescension to be drowned out.
“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s okay, pup. We’ll help.” 
Gaz’s smell is almost paralyzing. Dizzying in a way that makes you want to crack open his rib cage and live in his skin. You don’t even notice how your legs have been coaxed apart from the death grip you had on the pillow. 
Then Soap is up to your side, eyes locked down on the mess between your legs. Clit raw and puffy from your attempts at relief. Saliva building up in his mouth in anticipation of getting his face shoved between those thighs. Would you cry? Squirm? Pull his hair and ride his face?
Gaz’s patronizing voice in your ear stealing your attention long enough for Soap's fingers to ghost along your folds. A whine bubbles out of your throat when you flinch back. 
“Fuckin’ jumpy mutt.”
The look the two of them share is lost on you as you get manhandled. Soap wedges his hands under your ass and drags you forward so Gaz can slip in behind you. Your spine going rigid against Gaz’s chest as he flattens you against him, hooking his legs under yours and propping you open.
Long fingers clenched over your jaw, Gaz dragging your attention back to him. The look of uncertainty yet desperation on your face was enough to make him laugh.
“What? You don’t want him to touch you no more? You sit in here huffing his boxers like a dirty mutt but now that you have the real thing you shy away? Come on pup…” 
He kept his hold on your jaw while the other snakes around to hitch up your shirt's hem, letting Soap work without hindrance. Forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 
Soap doesn’t even have to work his fingers into you. Slick dripping onto the bed. Two sliding in so easily.  
“How often have you been like this hm? Is this why you disappear throughout the day? To get off?”
Three had your thighs jolting, straining over Gaz’s thighs. 
“Bitch in heat huh?” Soap says as he breaks his focus on your cunt to look at you. Neck arched back so your head can rest on Gaz’s shoulder. Lips parted to let out pathetic whines and whimpers. Gaz’s hand going under the hoodie to paw at your chest like he’s been wanting to since he set eyes on the obedient little hybrid who’d rip out throats at his suggestion. 
Four has your pussy squelching and wetness pooling into Soaps palm. A groan falling from his mouth at the sight. Freehand unclipping his belt.
“Stealing our stuff too? Hell, you even got some of Prices shit in here, you want to fuck him too? I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear bout that.”
The way your gaze slid down to him, humiliated yet so turned on made his grin widen. Cock straining against the seam of his pants.
“Doesn’t need any more prep.” Soap addressed Gaz from over your shoulder, pulling his fingers out of you. Showing off the excessive wetness in the low light, a shit eating grin on his face. “Mutt took care of that already.”
They just moved you like some doll. Soap taking you off of Gaz and setting you on top to straddle his hips while Gaz worked at his own pants. His hand presses down on your shoulder blades to see your spine arch all proper while he settles in behind.
Their obedient pet, kneeling on all fours, back bent and ass raised. 
Fluffy tail wagging as Soap hitched up the shirt so he could grope at her tits. Swollen and sensitive and needing a pup to latch onto them. 
The sound that came out of you when he took your nipple was pornographic. Shrill and needy, no semblance of the respectable hybrid of the 141.
Gaz was the first to push in. Gummy heat overwhelming, like nothing he’d ever felt. Not an ounce of friction.
“Hybrids can’t get pregnant from humans right?” Gaz asked, pulling out till just the tip was in. Head swimming. He only earned a bark of laughter from Soap.
“One pump chump huh?”
“Fuck off you haven’t been in her yet-“ 
You flattening your ass against his hips cut off the conversation. The feeling of him bottoming out finally scratching that itch that’s been building under your skin for days. 
Gaz tries to say something bout you being a “greedy mutt” but you just keep moving. Chasing that tightening feeling in your stomach. Slapping back hard against his hips so he can reach as deep as possible. 
Only for him to pull out when your bounces got more frantic. A growl builds in your throat, ears pinned back when you whipped your head around. 
“Was wondering where that attitude went,” Soap smirked, notching his fat cockhead against your entrance. 
They just kept on with this. Taking turns plunging into your pussy because neither of them are willing to stick their dicks between your teeth or risk the potential freak out with your ass. A silent competition to see who’ll cum first.
As soon as they’d feel that heat build up in their stomach they’d pull out only for the other to lodge in. Never leaving you empty for a second 
Drool dripped onto Soap's collarbone, Gaz’s fingers lodged between your teeth to keep you from latching onto Soap's neck and marking him. They weren’t stupid enough to enable that at least. Price would have their heads.
Not that you cared. Brain fuzzy as the restlessness you'd been dealing with for days got dealt with. Gaz’s position lets his batter against your cervix while Soap's dick curves perfectly so that his shallower movements let him grind against your g-spot.
All growls thinned out into whines as they both jeered and jabbed at you and each other. Gaz thumbing over your rim, Soap rough fingers meanly pinching at your puffy clit. Their stupid little hybrid who only took a couple hard thrusts and friction to cum.
Yet that wasn’t enough. You needed more to be satisfied. To be filled. Fulfill the animalistic purpose to be pinned down and bred.
Didn’t take long for either of them to get to the end of their ropes. Slowly pushing themselves into overstimulation from the repeated edging, pulling out just as they felt their balls tighten only to have to let the other shove past to get inside of you.
Blubbering came from you, attempts of begging. More you needed more. More of them. Needed to be stuffed full. Claws digging into Soaps shoulders to create bloody crescents. Crying out when Gaz slipped in too early. Bullying in to force you to fit them both. Stretch bordering on painful, eyes rolling back in your head. Coil snapping at the feeling of what your body can only understand to be being knotted.
Your clenching walls force them both still beyond small, deep thrusts. Between you and the feeling of grinding against Soap's veins send Gaz over the edge first. Your cunt fluttering as if milking all of his load. Rapid enough to finish off Soap. 
Fucked dumb was the best word for you at this point. Overstimulating from the feeling of being stretched by two dicks, the smell of both of their sweat gives you a heady feeling. A lingering taste of copper in your mouth from breaking through Gaz’s skin.
They let you collapse into your nest once pulling out. Shaking thighs and a tear-streaked face. Soap scoops up a fingerful of his and Gaz’s cum and pushes it back into your quivering pussy.
Your whine earning mean laughs. Tail thumping against the pillows. Ready for round two. 
……
Later a video is sent into the group chat with a text underneath saying ‘teaching the dog new tricks.’
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chibinasuu · 6 days ago
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could do Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji (separately) X Reader, and it's of them already in a relationship, and kind of based on the trend on TikTok, Reader calls them "Buddy" to see their reaction?
hi!! sorry this took so long, i just returned from a trip and didn’t have much time to write at all last week. thanks for the request, this was so fun to write! this was my first time writing short drabbles like this, but i hope i captured the boys’ reactions well :)
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“Buddy” | Monster Trio x Reader
Pairings: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji x Reader (separate)  Tags: sfw, fluff, established relationship, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n
Sanji
The lid to the peanut butter jar was exceptionally tight that morning. 
You glanced at Sanji, who was trying and failing to prevent his lips from turning up into a mischievous smirk. You rolled your eyes as a small huff escaped your mouth.
Did he seriously think you wouldn’t catch on to his little schemes? You had long been aware that he’d sometimes purposefully tighten the lids to all of the jars in the kitchen just so you would ask him for help. 
After struggling for a good few seconds, you finally relented and passed the jar to him, “Open this for me, please?”
Sanji beamed at you, “Why, of course, dearest! With pleasure.” 
He popped the lid open with ease and handed the jar back to you.
You took it gratefully but couldn’t resist the temptation of getting back at him in some way. So, as you walked away, you patted his shoulder and said lightly, “Thanks, buddy!”
You instantly regretted it when you saw Sanji’s crestfallen expression, “...Buddy?”
He looked like he was close to tears as he searched your face, “A-are you mad at me? Is this about the jars? I promise I won't do it aga–” 
His small voice broke you and you immediately rushed back to him, “Oh sweetheart, no, I’m just joking!” 
You planted a kiss on his cheek, “I’m sorry, honey.” You moved your lips to his other cheek, “Baby.” To his forehead, “Darling.”
He let out a relieved sigh at the return of your usual repertoire of nicknames, before squishing your cheeks in between his hands, “Don’t ever call me buddy again. Please.” 
You chuckled, “Yes, my love.” 
He nodded, satisfied at your answer, before leaning in and melding his lips to yours in the sweetest kiss.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Zoro
“Hey, can you pass me the towel?” 
You were sitting on the bench of the crow’s nest, quietly reading your book as Zoro spent hours after hours working out. This was the first instance that he had spoken to you in all that time, which was no surprise, really. You knew that he took his workout very seriously.
But, you couldn’t deny that it still annoyed you to no end that he had not glanced even once in your direction this whole time, despite this being one of the rare moments that the two of you could spend alone onboard this rowdy ship. 
“Sure.” You reached for the towel beside you and tossed it in his direction, “Here you go, buddy!”
“Thank–” Zoro started to reply before he registered your words. He looked at you, his face contorted in what you could only describe as disgust, “Ha?!”
You smirked at how readily he took your bait, watching him closely as he wiped off his sweat and stalked toward you. He placed his hands on the bench on either side of you, caging you in as he bent forward to bring his face close to yours, “What did you just call me?”
“What, you don't like my new nickname for you, buddy?” You taunted, fully realizing that this would piss him off even further.
“Oh, am I your buddy, now?” He pressed his body even closer to yours, an intense look in his eyes as he said, “Well, would a buddy do this, then?” 
Your heart danced in victory when his lips finally captured yours in a hungry kiss, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down onto the bench.
Maybe you should rile him up more often.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Luffy
Luffy was sitting at his usual spot at the figurehead when you approached him. 
The conversation you had with Nami earlier still plagued your mind. She had told you that men hated to be called “buddy” by their significant other, but you were pretty sure that Luffy wouldn’t mind at all. He had liked all of the nicknames you gave him so far, no matter how ridiculous they were. She laughed and disagreed, telling you that Luffy was a man after all, and there was no way he would not be affected in some way. 
So, that’s how you ended up climbing the stairs to the figurehead, on your way to test Nami’s theory. 
“Hey, buddy!” You called out to Luffy.
His head tilted in confusion as he turned to face you, before replying uncertainly, “Hey to you too… buddy.”
Well, how the table had turned. You didn’t expect him to call you "buddy” back. And you didn’t like it. At all. 
“Ugh.” You groaned as you sat down beside him, “Forget that. Please don’t call me buddy.” 
He pouted, “Hey, you said it first!” 
You chuckled and caressed his cheek, your thumb lightly grazing over his scar, “My bad, turned out I don’t like it when you called me that.” 
“Well, I don’t like it either.” He shrugged as he admitted, “It made me feel like I was just your friend. And I’m not… right?” 
So Nami was right. It did affect him.
“You’re right, I’m sorry." You smiled, somehow filled with a strange satisfaction, as you pulled him in for a quick kiss, "You're definitely more than just my buddy, Lu.”
You kept his face close to yours as you said, “I promise I won’t call you buddy ever again if you promise not to call me buddy too.”
Luffy laughed before closing the gap between you again, “Deal!”
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