#kinktober day two

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙏𝙒𝙊: Lazy Sex w/ Mike Schmidt

a/n: time is an illusion and a man-made structure or whatever, so when you think about it philosophically, i am not already a day late!!! (there may be a double upload for day 3 & 4 if i don't do it tonight).

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

You could hear rustling coming from across the hall, Mike desperately trying to be silent as he winds down from a long day at work.

You blink the sleep away from your bleary eyes, casting a lazy glance over to the digital alarm clock. The time read 4:40 A.M. in bright red numbers.

Mike came in right as you groaned, a slight grimace on his face as he padded over to you.

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?" He asked quietly, clambering onto the bed.

You rolled onto your side, cuddling the pillow under your head. "'S fine." You murmured, though your eyes threatened to slip closed.

A warm arm slid over your waist, tugging you into his chest, and you snorted at the feeling of his hardness pressed against the back of your thigh.

"Long night?" You snickered slightly with a wry grin. His words were an incoherent, flustered mumble as he buried his face in the curve of your neck.

Your scent was sleep laced and heady, warmed up by the blankets that mixed your scents together. Mike took in a deep breath, and he felt his cock twitch in its half hard state.

Sometimes he gets like this sometimes - needy.

With his sister in the house most of the day, intimacy happened between little to none, and with lucky moments like these where you're both awake.

"Please."

It's a whimpered plea, and he begins to rut into you from behind, nibbling on the exposed skin of your neck. It's a ticklish feeling, one that sends you melting into the bed.

"Take what you need to, baby, but I'm not moving." You nuzzle into your pillow, shutting your eyes and melting into the mattress.

His eager hands find themselves trailing over the waistbands of your shorts, pulling them down your full hips and over your luscious thighs. He repeats it with your panties until your lower half is bare.

You bend your knee so he can have easier access to your warm, wet, tight, heat.

Mike buries his head in your neck, hot pants escaping his mouth that hits the sensitive skin there. His scruff scratches it, sending a shiver ricocheting up your spine.

You're growing hot under the collar as his fingertips trail over your slit before pressing down on your clit, drawing tight circles to arouse you further.

Though Mike would love nothing more than to sink into you, he always makes sure you're prepared. Always.

Two fingers find themselves disappearing inside of you gently, stretching you out quickly. Your lungs catch for a moment, hips still to adjust, and when you do, you relax and attempt to rock into him.

You hold him close to you by the nape of his neck, your free arm reaching up to hold him.

Heavy gasps flit through your lips as the pads of his fingers massage your g-spot easily. You roll your lips between your teeth to prevent yourself from moaning aloud, eyes fluttering in an attempt to ground yourself.

"Fuck - if you make me cum already, I might fall asleep." You grumble breathlessly, and he retreats his calloused digits. "Sorry, sorry. I got you." He reassures quietly.

His large palm cups the back of your knee of your propped open leg, the other sliding under your head to anchor you to him.

You sigh when his tip breaches your entrance, and the noises that he makes are sinful; high and needy, and it takes your breath away. Though lust pools in your gut when he bottoms out, you can feel the exhaustion in the way his thrusts are lazy but firm.

You ride out the waves of simple, drawn-out pleasure that flows through you, rolling your hips back to match the unsteady thrusts.

Though your middle is coiling, tight, tight, tight, you can't help but sinking further into the mattress. Your head is fogged and your eyes closed.

You heard his barely contained grunts and groans behind you, the faint sound of skin meeting skin that barely pierces the silent atmosphere.

"Fuck," He whimpers. "I don't think I'm gonna last long. 'm sorry, 'm sorry."

"It's fine." You say gently. "I don't need anything, just take what you need, baby."

His thrusts gain momentum just a bit before he's rocketed over the edge, your own hand leaving his nape to rub wildly at your clit while the friction is still there.

Your body seizes for a moment before you come down, you already feel all your energy escaping you.

"C'mon, gotta clean up." Mike says from behind you, though he makes no effort to move. "'S fine. Let's just lay like this. Just for a little longer."

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[shh-om]

k¡nktober day two - roleplay w diavolo

~450 words

teacher student , blow jobs , maybe power imbalance — its roleplay

“Teacher,” you pout, crocodile tears in your eyes. “I can’t fail again, Lucifer’ll kill me.”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before failing your sixth quiz this semester, MC.”

“Isn’t there any way I can amend this, teacher?” You bat your eyelashes.

“There is one thing…” Diavolo shifts his legs, drawing your eyes to his prominent bulge.

You drop your eyes and look at him through your eyelashes sultrily. “And that would be?”

“I think you know, my dearest exchange student.” Diavolo palms his growing erection. “What do you say?”

You rub your thighs together and shift side to side, “you’ll fix my grade?”

“Only if you,” Diavolo clicks his tongue, eyes pointing to his bulge.

“Of course, teacher,” you giggle flirtily and walk close enough to him so that when you drop down onto your knees you do not need to crawl far to be in front of him.

His eyes lid and Diavolo lets out a deep, sensual groan when you lean in to rub your face over his clothed bulge. His cock is emanating heat and you push your cheek closer to nuzzle it, then you stick your tongue out and wet the fabric of his crotch, licking on the tented fold.

“Get to it, student.” Diavolo orders with much less bite than he intended.

And you get to it, reaching up your hands to unzip his pants and free his raging cock, dark red with arousal, and the tip absolutely twitching. He’s so large and thick it makes your mouth water.

A quick sweep of your tongue over your lips to wet them, and you lean forward to wrap your lips over most of the head. Diavolo is salty on your tongue and the taste alone is enough to make you crave him crammed down your esophagus. Taking him that far would be enough to render your vocal chords useless for a week.

You hollow your cheeks and suck him as far as you comfortably can. Diavolo tangles his hand into your hair, tugging on the strands a little.

“Good job, keep going like this your grade will be bumped up in no time.” That spurs you to force him deeper in your throat, gagging and slobbering all over him. You’re barely over halfway and you can’t push yourself any further, so you reach up and lubed with your spit, rub your hands over the rest of his monstrous cock.

It doesn’t take much longer before his massive balls are seizing and a huge load is deposited straight to your tummy.

You pull off gasping and sputtering. When you finally can speak you ask, “so, what’s my grade, Teacher?”

[telekineticseance]

NOISE COMPLAINT

kinktober day two: roleplay

pairing: doug remer x f! reader

summary: "officer" remer arrives on a noise complaint call

genre: smut

word count: 1932

cw: oral sex (m!receiving), fingering(f!receiving), handcuffs, unprotected sex

author's note: this one was a lot of fun to write because i love writing silly remer moments

You groaned as you finished looking at yourself in the mirror, the black lingerie with the stockings and heels were a little over the top but Remer had specifically messaged you, asking you to put them on before he got home because he had something planned and said it was VERY important you wore that specific outfit.

The knock at the front door caused you to jump as you quickly grabbed your robe, wrapping it around as you walked towards the door. “Shit shit shit,” You whispered under your breath, looking through the peephole to see who it was only to see the peephole covered and blurry, “I fucking told him to fix that.” You muttered before opening the door seeing an officer standing at the door.

“Uh hello.” You spoke softly causing the officer to spin around. You were taken aback by the familiar face of your boyfriend with a serious look on his face as he looked at you, along with a cheap party store pornstache.

“Hello ma’am, I was called about a noise complaint coming from this establishment.” He spoke up, holding the very large belt buckle that sat on his waist.

You tried to hold back a laugh as you gave him a blank stare with the occasional blinking.

He got a little closer, leaning in, “It’s me. Remer. Your boyfriend.” He whispered softly.

“What are you doing?”

“I am here on a call of a noise complaint. Can I come in and have a look around?” He asked leaning back into his earlier position, thrusting his hips in the air as he rocked on his heels for a moment, keeping his hands on the belt buckle.

You continued to give him a look, confused as he continued to rock on his heels, eyes scanning you. “Doug..”

“Excuse me ma’am but it’s Officer Remer. Now please let me in to um…investigate?” He spoke the last part almost as if it were a question.

You let out a small sigh, deciding to play along with him, “Do you have a warrant?”

His eyes widened as he parted his mouth to speak, closing it, before speaking again, “I uh..I..” He dropped his hands to his sides as he started to pout slightly, “Really?”

“Really what? Do you have a search warrant?” You paused, you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the door frame, “I know my rights, Officer Remer.”

He let out a small groan, reaching his hand into his pocket before pulling out a piece of paper, “Here’s that search warrant.” He gave you a small wink as he placed the paper in your hand.

You took the paper and skimmed over it before looking back at him, “This is a receipt for a cop costume.”

“Babe please.” Remer pouted again, practically stomping his feet at the fact you weren’t really playing along to the little scheme he had obviously been thinking about for a while.

You let out a sigh before returning your gaze back to the paper, “Oh I see you do have the right paperwork Officer. Please come in.” You dramatically moved to the side, motioning for Remer to come in, as he started to walk in, his shoes making loud thumping noises as he walked.

“So when was the noise complaint made Officer?” You asked, closing the door behind Remer, turning your gaze to him. His fake mustache was very obviously starting to fall off on one side and he noticed you looking before raising his hand to lay it back down before speaking up, “Just a few minutes ago. Said they heard screams and wanted to make sure nothing bad was happening.”

“Screams? Oh well nothing like that here I’m afraid. Just me all by my lonesome self.” You responded, getting an idea as you lowered the shoulder of your robe slightly, revealing the strap to the bra, along with a little bit of the breast part as well.

Remer turned his gaze from looking around to looking at you before gulping slightly at the sight of you slowly revealing lingerie. “Something the matter Officer?”

He quickly cleared his throat in response, straightening out as his gaze narrowed, “Well with no proof of it being quiet I’m afraid I will have to give you a ticket of some sort.” He pulled out a notepad as he said this, along with a pen which he tapped lightly on his tongue before writing, causing you to let out a small laugh.

“Ma’am this is no laughing matter.”

“You’re right, officer, I'm completely sorry. Please continue.”

You watched as he finished writing, ripping the page from the notepad before handing it to you with a terribly hidden shit eating grin on his face. “Now uh.. if you don’t want to have a ticket I’m sure we can find out.. other ways of payment?” He spoke while wiggling his brows and biting his bottom lip lightly.

The sound of your heels clicked on the floor as you walked across the room to the chair where you sat, crossing your legs and opening your robe so he could see the stockings and garters. You undid the tie around your waist as you let the shoulder of the robe drop even lower, “Oh dear officer. You’re right I don’t have the money for this.. What other forms of payment did you have in mind?”

Your gaze looked at him, trying to have the same pouty look porn stars give when they couldn’t pay for their pizza from the pizza guy.

“I have a few ideas.” He pulled out some handcuffs from the little side pouch he had and let them dangle on his finger, “Might have to take you down to the station though.”

You continued to try not to laugh from how silly this was becoming. “Oh dear, officer. If you insist.”

You stood up from the chair, dropping the robe down to the floor before walking over to Remer with your arms out, “Do what you need to do.”

His eyes scanned you as he licked his lips, before taking his bottom one in between his teeth. His hands moved to arms, forcing you to turn around before putting the handcuffs on your wrists.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do, officer?” You asked him, looking at him over your shoulder. “I think if you just gave me a minute of your time we could get this sorted out. I mean after all you said you had a few ideas.”

Remer’s grip on your wrists loosened before he turned you back around, “Get on your knees.”

You slowly got down to your knees, looking up at your boyfriend as you did so, before watching him start unbuckling his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, just enough for his cock to spring out from underneath.

His hand started rubbing at his length, as you watched from his face down his hand. He used his other hand to messily collect your hair before he moved towards your mouth, putting his tip against your lips, “Open.”

You quickly obeyed, opening your mouth before he thrusted in. He started thrusting more aggressively than usual, but it wasn’t like you really minded.

The only noises that escaped from Remer were the soft pants and moans he would make when he would have his cock in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around causing him to let out a deep groan, the grip on your hair tightening.

You felt your clit start to throb and ache from the sounds he would make, the feeling of him making you want him even more than you normally would.

You tried to move your wrists away from the handcuffs, hoping that you could relieve some sort of pressure from yourself by using your own hands but the handcuffs were surprisingly well made and unable to break.

His hips started to stutter as he thrusted, the occasional gagging you had against his length starting to slow. You felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat before he came, one last groan escaping from his mouth.

He pulled out, watching you swallow and wiping the excess cum from the side of your lips.

“What a good girl.” Remer’s voice spoke deeply as he grabbed your arm lifting you from the ground.

“Now about that noise complaint.” He spoke before turning you around, pushing you down to bend over the counter before pulling your panties down to your ankles.

He ran his fingers along your slit causing you to let out a gasp, digging your nails into your palm once he inserted the fingers.

“So wet already and I’ve hardly touched you.” He curled his fingers inside, pumping them a few times before pulling out causing you to whine.

“Calm down, I barely even pulled away.” He teased before you felt him slide his cock in causing you to let out a moan, feeling your walls stretch from the size. One of his hands held onto your waist, while the other grabbed the chain of the handcuff, holding himself stable while he thrusted.

The sounds spilling from your mouth were a mixture of moans and curses, feeling like the whole room was going black. Of course you and Remer had tried handcuffs before, but something about this time was different and it made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You felt Remer’s hand move from the handcuffs as he started to rub at your clit while he thrusted, causing chills to run down your spine, the sounds of your moans increasing.

“Fuck Doug,” You whimpered out, knowing how much he loved when you used his first name. Everyone called him Remer, it was his thing, even you called him that. But the sound of you moaning his name was music to his ears.

He thrusted faster, the tight grip on the chain just getting tighter before he lifted you up to where your back was pressed against his still clothed torso. You turned your head to look at him before he started kissing your neck, sucking and licking, everything he could to make sure to leave a few marks.

You felt chills start to build up throughout your body, feeling like you were going to explode. “So close.”

“Me too baby. Me too.” He whimpered into your ear. You loved the noises he would make when he came. A mixture of whines and whimpers as his hips stuttered, the noises almost sounded feminine when he did.

Suddenly, the chills in your body reached the highest point before it was almost like it stopped, your walls flexing around Remer’s cock as you felt his pacing grow sloppy, his heart racing against your back before he came for the second time that evening.

The breathing between you two was heavy, the occasional moan slipping out.

Shortly after, you felt Remer unlock the handcuffs, throwing them on the counter in front of you before turning you around so your ass was pressed up against the counter.

He pushed his lips into your, the feeling of the fake mustache he still wore causing you to giggle before he pulled away, “What’s so funny?”

You raised your hands pulling the mustache off his face, throwing it to the side. “I think you look better with a clean shave.” You whispered, lightly running your thumb across his upper lip.

“And I think maybe we should try doing a doctor one of these next?” He asked before kissing you once more.

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Kinktober 2024 Day Two

Tentacles

Captain John Price/Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You broken?” Price asked as he closed the door behind him.

“I’m good.” Kyle was… could he say ‘sat’, when Kyle didn’t currently have legs?

He was overthinking it.

Kyle was sat on the bed against the far wall of the white, sterile examination room, holding up a finger as John opened his mouth again. “And don’t say, you don’t look good. Doc’s checked me out, and I’m fine.”

Price grumbled as Gaz called him out on his default response, which this time was warranted, because Kyle, objectively, did not look good. The entire lower half of his body had been replaced with a mass of purple tentacles. He couldn’t be further from being good. “They know how that stuff works yet?”

Kyle shrugged. “Some guesses. They won’t know for sure until they study the samples they took. I feel fine, John. It feels… normal, weirdly enough. Like, you don’t ever think about how your legs work, you know?”

John nodded. “Do they at least know that it’s not permanent?”

“Yeah. Kate’s been digging through the intel, and it turns out that the stuff was made specifically to perfect the temporary element of the transformation.” Kyle held up his phone. “She’s keeping me updated.”

“There was more than one version of this stuff?”

“Shouldn’t be anymore. Not since we busted up their labs.” Kyle adjusted himself on the bed, the tentacles rolling over each other, revealing the line of small, pale purple suckers running down the insides of them. John tried not to stare as he dragged a chair up next to the bed.

“I’m staying until this wears off.”

“Cap, you don’t have to do that. Couple of hours, I’ll turn right back into a good ol’ bipedal, tentacle free motherfucker. It’s all fine.”

“Even so…”

“Duty of care, sure. Nothing to do with the fact that you’re keen as hell to know how these things work.”

“Dunno what you’re on about.” John mumbled, hanging his head as he made like he was checking his phone.

“Right. That’s why you haven’t made eye contact with me since you’ve entered the room.” At Kyle’s admonishment, John’s head shot up to make eye contact with him, a scowl forming on his face as he realised that Kyle was right.

“You can’t take your eyes off them, can you?” Kyle continued. “There’s just something naturally tempting, alluring about them, that makes them irresistible. You just want to touch them at first, then you won’t be able to let go, you’ll want to hold it just a little bit longer… then…”

“Are you quoting the files Laswell set you?”

“Paraphrasing. Right though, aren’t I?” Gaz grinned, setting his phone aside and leaning towards John.

“Maybe.”

“Yes, or no, John. Science doesn’t work well with fence sitting answers.”

“You want to fuck me with a tentacle for science.” John swallowed as he realised just how appealing the idea sounded to him. He shifted his legs, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he was starting to get hard in his pants.

“I said nothing about fucking…” Kyle held his hands up. “Sounds like you’re volunteering to be fucked by a tentacle for science.”

“Just for science?” John slid up from his chair onto the edge of the bed, leaning closer to Kyle.

“You fucking sap.” Kyle beckoned him close, taking John’s face in his hands as he kissed him. John leaned forward, his hands landing on the tentacles as he tried to balance himself. Kyle groaned, and John shivered, pulling away from the kiss to look down at the tentacles as he felt them in his hands.

“Not what you were expecting?”

“No.” The tentacles were surprisingly soft. They were almost inviting to the touch, if it wasn’t for the muscular strength hiding just under the surface, evident as Kyle easily twisted it free to wrap it over John’s fingers. “I was expecting… slimy?”

“And you still wanted to fuck me? Flattering, that even thought to be covered in slime, I’m still fuckable.”

“Fucking hell.” John shook his head, rubbing his thumb over the coiled tentacle, catching against a sucker that shrank at his touch. As Kyle had predicted, he found that he was unable to just… let go. “How do you plan on fucking me? Hiding a tentacle dick somewhere?”

“No. Going to use one of these.” Kyle shifted the tentacles, sliding them out from underneath Price to around his hips, pulling him close. Price huffed when one he was holding was pulled away from his hand. “Were you not done playing?”

“Shut it.” Price warned, pushing his hands under Kyle’s shirt instead, trying to find the exact point where skin stopped being skin, and started being tentacle.

“You seem very keen on getting fucked, you sure there’s nothing else you want to do?” Kyle watched him, feeling John’s fingers massage along his skin, pushing the material of his shirt up to see how smoothly Gaz’s skin melded into the deep purple of his lower half.

“You- You’re enjoying this.”

“Yes.” Kyle sat up on his hands, using his tentacles to keep John secure in front of him so he could lean in close. “I’m having a lot of fun, in fact. Would you rather I was sitting here, moping, wanting to be fucked better?”

“That’s not what I said…”

“Thought it, though.” Kyle sat back, leaning against the bars of the bed, linking his fingers around the back of his neck.

“These things let you read minds or what?” Price ran his hands down from Kyle’s stomach to the tentacles, feeling over the ones wrapped over his thighs.

“Educated guess.” Kyle shook his head. “Bet I can make you cum without using my hands.”

“You’ve got eight extra fucking limbs, Kyle, that’s hardly a fair bet.”

“Sure. No one says you have to take it. And, it’s going to happen either way, right?”

“Fine. You win, you get…”

“Bragging rights.”

“Sure. You don’t, I get a picture of you like this.”

“You’re on.” In the unlikely event he lost, Kyle could weather one photograph. He pushed two tentacles up under John’s shirt, lifting it up over his stomach. “Take this off, won’t you?”

John pulled it off and tossed it aside, groaning as he felt the tentacles roll up over his bare skin, squeezing him tight as the others fiddled with his belt, trying to push his trousers down.

“Feels better with them against your skin, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…” John trailed his hands over them, picking at where they tightened against his skin, the suckers pinching as they adhered, ready to hold John up while getting fucked. Kyle chuckled, and used another tentacle to pull John’s hands away, wrapping around his wrists to keep them in front of him.  

“Hands to yourself, yeah? I got this.”

Price shuddered but relaxed, tilting head down to watch as the tentacles successfully pushed his pants open down over his hips, bunching them at his thighs. Kyle chuckled at John’s semi hard cock before wrapping a tentacle around it, and sending another scurrying towards his ass. John spread his thighs out as far as he could with his pants caught between them, and Kyle hurried to use two more to each wrap about on of John’s thighs, keeping him seated.

“You look good like this. Shame we’ll only get it the once.” Kyle murmured, more to himself than John, as he moved the final tentacle up John’s torso to his chin, pressing the tip at his lips. “Say ‘ah…’”

Kyle was struggling to keep it together, despite his confidence. His head was fuzzy with how many sensations that were filling it, with so many tentacles to keep track of. It was a lot more than hands and a dick. He dug his nails into the back of his neck, trying to focus around the heat of John’s mouth as the tentacle slid inside across John’s tongue, stilling immediately as John pressed his tongue back against it, trying to rub against it as best he could, making Kyle groan.

He shook his head and tightened the grip on John’s hands as he started pulling them free. Kyle frowning and squeezed the tentacles around John’s ribs, which made him groan and go limp, staying still for a minute so Kyle could collect himself.

He took a deep breath and glanced down to look at John’s cock.

The tip was poking out of the undulating coil, leaking out onto it, dripping to his thighs below. Kyle swallowed and watched carefully, smiling as it jerked up when he pressed the tentacle against John’s ass hole.

John groaned, muffled by the tentacle curling up in his mouth, thighs tensing as Kyle kept his touches teasingly light while working the muscle open, gently hushing John until he relaxed, and Kyle could finally get to the hitherto unexplored realms of biological transformation sex by having him fuck John with a tentacle.

John shivered again as he shifted up as the tentacle pushed inside him, quickly trying to rock his hips to fuck himself on the tentacle, as if he could sense how many sensations Kyle was juggling, and wanted to help, before Kyle started moving the tentacle himself. John stilled, returning to a state of limp pleasure while being held up by the tentacles, trying to find some kind grounding sensation by sucking the tentacle crammed inside his mouth, as he tried to not think about how utterly debauched he must look.

John was close to being overwhelmed. He was being filled and touched in so many places, held upright by Kyle while he worked John’s cock, wrapping it inside warm muscle that squeezed it in time with every slow thrust by the tentacle in his ass. He didn’t know how he hadn’t cum yet. Instead, the pleasure just kept building up and up and up until he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, entirely at the mercy of Kyle.

John managed to crack his eyes open just in time to see Kyle grin, before the tentacle inside his ass went from slowly thrusting in and out, to curling up like a finger bent at the knuckle, and pressing against his prostrate.

John’s wail was pushed back down his throat by the tentacle as his entire body clenched up at once. He could have sworn he was crying, as the tentacle in his mouth pushed too deep and he choked, and fell forward onto Kyle’s chest.

Kyle swore and quickly withdrew the tentacle from John’s mouth, grabbing his face in his hands and pulling it up to his, brushing John’s tears away as his eyes scanning his face, his urgency speeding up the pace at which John was still simultaneously getting fucked and jerked off.

“Fuck, I’m sorry… C’mere.” Kyle cupped John’s jaw and kissed him, wrapping his arms around John’s shoulders as John shook, fucking his hips away from and yet still into the tentacles, as they slowly came to a stop.

“Fuck… You okay?” Kyle lay John on his chest, tilting his head up so he could gaze down at him.

“Yeah.” John pushed to sit up a little as Kyle let go of his hands, grabbing Kyle’s chin. “Very good. You owe me a picture.”

“Oh, for fucks sake, that doesn’t count…” Kyle groaned, shaking his head as the cognisance snapped back into John’s eyes.

“You said, no hands.” John reached up to lay his hand on Kyle’s arm, still wrapped around his shoulders.

“You- fucking, fine. Can’t blame me though. You’re cute when you fall all over me like that.” He relaxed the tentacles, pulling them away from John to use them to roll the pair of them onto their sides. “Go ahead and take it.”

“Hmm. In a minute.” John ran his hand down to grab a tentacle again, feeling the one that was wet with his saliva. “Want to hold these a little longer first.”

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 15 - Noncon

Ghost x Reader - 4.6k (on ao3)

summary: You find yourself cornered in a Maze of Mirrors. (Reader POV)

cw: noncon everything, face fucking, pussy slapping, degradation, kinda a wedgie? like a front wedgie? is that a thing?, orgasm denial

note: if you like this (or hate it but like the concept) read Halloween Haunt by Harley Laroux <3 her erotica is top tier

You’ve always loved Halloween - always been the kid with the scariest costume in class, always had the house decorated with uncomfortably realistic decorations. When your sorority sisters dressed up as black cats and sexy witches, you spent hours painting the most realistic zombie makeup you could. (Your sisters complained for months that you ruined the pictures, but the frat boys had all thought your makeup was far more interesting than theirs. God, you do not miss college.)

Regardless, you’ve always been known to love any and everything scary. There’s something about the thrill of a scare - the creeping horror as you start to realize what’s coming, the ultimate reveal - that always gets you a little squirmy in your seat. Your first crush was Skeet Ulrich in Scream - specifically the scene where he’s covered in blood, licking his fingers. 

You get all those ooey-gooey good scared feelings as your friend drags you through the decently crowded fairgrounds. The actual fair - the one that comes yearly, that no one ever calls anything but the fair - had left only two weeks ago, so this travelling fair had set things up in mostly the same arrangement and, you suspect, to trick certain people into thinking they were the same company.

You’ve already forgotten what your friend said the event was called. She hadn’t needed to give many details to convince you - you heard travelling circus, horror themed, interactive workers, and you were in. The branding isn’t very strong anyways, the only place the name was displayed was the entrance booth, and none of the workers seem to wear any sort of logo, so you don’t feel too forgetful for letting it slip your memory so easily.

You’re not very impressed with the fear factor so far. You hadn’t done too much makeup (hadn’t wanted to risk being mistaken for a cast member) but since it’s the night before Halloween you’ve got a half-done costume on - a clown. Just some white face paint, black lips, and overdrawn triangles around the eyes, a little smudged to make it look like you’ve been chasing someone down and working up a sweat. Your hoodie and tennis skirt look a bit out of place, but you’d wanted to be comfortable since you hoped you’d be spending your night running from actors.

But even a face full of makeup feels like it might’ve been too much effort for this place. Most of the costumes look like they’re from Party City at best - some of them even look very lazily hand-made - and none of the workers seem particularly interested in scaring people. Still, the crowd is easily amused and even a wave or a feint towards a customer has shrieks ringing in the air every few minutes.

You sigh a little disapointedly as you and your friend linger on the edge of the fairgrounds, off to the side and in the dark so you don’t have to deal with the crowd. She pulls out a cigarette and offers you her light.

“I’m sorry,” she says, lighting the stick between your teeth when you lean forward. “I really thought it would be scarier than this. Some of the posters…” she exagetates a shiver. “I thought they’d at least have better costumes.”

You eye a man in a werewolf mask across the pathway, pissing into the dirt. He’s got a flannel and jeans on, and the mask is a little bit crumpled like he pulled it out of a Walmart bin this morning. You’d bet money the flannel was just a happy coincidence he noticed when he showed up for work.

“Yeah,” you sigh, blowing out a lungful of smoke and watching the actor try not to get his dick stuck in his zipper. “Not really your fault, though, these things always look scarier in the ads. Wanna get out of here soon?”

You pass the cigarette to her. “In a bit,” she replies. “I want to try and find some food first. You hungry?”

You shake your head with a grunt. “I wouldn’t trust anything cooked here, honestly. Might just pick up something on the way back.”

She passes you the cigarette for one last breath. “Well I’m too hungry for that. You good on your own for a bit?”

You crouch down a moment to stub out the cigarette, leaving the butt in the gravel. “Yeah, sure. Might see if these fun houses have anything worth seeing in them.”

“You should!” She smiles over her shoulder at you as she starts off to a more well-lit section of the fair. “You never know, maybe they stick the real scares in there!”

You give her a final wave and shout, “Here’s hoping!” at her back as she leaves. 

You linger outside for a little longer, scanning the few structures nearby to decide which one you want to waste a few tickets on.

There’s a Freak Show, but you already know you’d be horribly disappointed if you went in there, something labeled a “House of Horrors” that you’re sure is as much a scam as the freak show, and a few games that have cheap prizes lined up above them.

Across from you, with no lights around it and just one attendant - slumped over, hopefully sleeping - at the front, is a House of Mirrors. Figuring it’s the least likely to be a waste of time (and knowing the kid won’t wake up to charge you), you head over to the building.

The closer you get the more you worry about if he’s asleep or dead, but his snores rattle the little tickets resting on his desk so you figure he’s just a slacker. It’s almost too easy to get by him with all your tickets safe in your pocket. There’s no one else around the darkened corner of the fairgrounds, but you’re quite sure no one would bother snitching on you this late at night. All the parents with little kids left hours ago, leaving mostly teenagers and adults of varying ages left to wander the park.

There’s music playing from speakers that you can’t see, an old clown-themed song that sounds like it’s playing on a scratched up DVD. You’re pleasantly surprised as you make your way through the dusty lobby and into the main section of the building, creatively labeled MAZE OF MIRRORS.

Their branding could definitely use some work, but you’ll give them points for ambience - the lights are turned so low that it’s nearly too dark to see, making all of the mirrors even more difficult to spot. You find yourself a little spooked as you start to make your way through the maze, grinning to yourself.

It’s a shockingly difficult maze, you quickly discover. The music is so loud in some spots that you can hardly hear your thoughts, and so faint in others that you think it might be turned off. The maze itself is a series of either tight, tiny hallways or large open rooms. Whoever designed it clearly knew how to take advantage of the space they were given, the maze feels ten times bigger than it looked on the outside as you wander through.

You know the trick to mazes - keep one hand on the right wall and eventually you’ll find your way out - but it’s fun to just wander around the place, so you let yourself get stuck wandering in circles. You’re glad your friend isn’t here to see how many times you manage to walk into a mirror fully confident that it’s not there, only to whack yourself in the face. For how low maintenance the rest of the fair is, you’re surprised that the hall of mirrors is what they focus their upkeep on.

You’ve been in the maze for about five minutes when you see him.

He scares the shit out of you at first. You spot him behind you in a mirror - one you’d just walked into, which is the only reason you can see well enough to notice him - standing at the entrance to the hallway you’d turned down. He’s clad in all black, except for the skull mask over his face. You think he’s just something taped onto the wall with the way that he blends in, but then that mask titls to the side and you’re struck with the bone-deep knowledge that you’re being watched.

“Shit!” You shout when it first registers that he’s not a piece of paper, one hand coming up to clasp at your erratically beating heart while the other steadies you against the mirror. He doesn’t move past tilting his head a bit further, and after a moment you relax.

You don’t turn around, but you study him a bit in the mirror. It’s too dark to see much more than the outline of his body, but he’s big. He looks like he’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans with the mask, and he must be wearing gloves to cover his hands since you can’t see them.

You huff out a laugh as you let both of your hands fall to your sides.

“You got me good,” you call, glancing over your shoulder. You almost jump again - he’s closer than you’d realized, but too far away for you to touch. “I didn’t even see you follow me in here.”

He doens’t say anything. You turn around more fully, leaning back against the mirror and crossing your arms across your chest.

“You gonna start chasin’ me now?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow. You’re playing up the sass, but it’s always fun to mess with theme park employees.

The man takes a few steps forward, heavy boots thudding against the cheap wood flooring. He really is an intimidating bastard, far scarier than any of the other actors you’d seen so far.

“Well?” You call out, standing up from your spot. “Do I get a head start?”

Still no answer. He rolls his head on his neck, then steps to the side and walks into one of the connecting hallways without sparing you a glance. When you step closer to see which direction he’s chosen, he’s already gone.

You huff another laugh to yourself, shaking out your limbs and bouncing a few times on your toes.

Now that you know there’s someone in here with you, the thrill of a scare is starting to get you worked up. You hope they don’t have any rules against physical contact between actors and customers, just imagining the skeleton man tackling you has shivers running up your spine.

You don’t bother to be any quieter as you keep wandering through the maze. You bump into just as many mirrors, continue to question the speaker placement, and keep an eye out for any skeleton masks lingering behind you.

You see him a few more times, always behind you, always just out of reach. He gets progressively closer everytime you spot him. You're reminded of the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who - every time you look away, he gets closer.

It’s fun. More fun than you’ve had all night.

He finally catches up to you what you guess is about half an hour later. Youre just turning another corner, thinking about how it’s been a bit since you’ve seen your shadow, when a hand plants itself firmly between your shoulder blades and shoves.

You’re sent to the ground with a cry, palms scraping against the floor. There’s a gloved hand collaring your throat before you can think to do much more than catch your breath, hauling you up and holding you in the air.

Your eyes fly to the mirror less than a foot away, staring wide-eyed at the image reflected.

There’s you, in your messy clown makeup and hoodie, being held up by a giant swath of black behind you. He’s not ducking down at all, his feet planted on either side of your splayed legs as he towers above you. The way you’re being held up, your head doesn’t even reach his belt buckle. The contrast of your shock and discomfort to his plastic mask has your thighs clenching, just a bit.

He doesn’t duck lower, just tilts his head in that now-familiar way of his and pulls you a little further up. His hand is absolutely massive, thumb resting beneath one ear and his fingers resting below the other. You choke a bit as you’re lifted, knees scrambling beneath you.

This close to the mirror you can see his eyes - bright blue, surrounded by black paint, and staring back into yours.

He lowers his head, his free hand tugging your hair until you lean back and look straight up. The hand on your neck shifts to hold you in that position, his other hand lifting to pull the black part of his mask up.

He’s white, with thin lips and a broad jaw. You pant as you stare up at him, incapable of processing what’s going on.

His jaw works for a moment, lips twitching, and before you realize what he’s about to do you feel something wet splatter against your cheek.

He spit on you. Who the fuck does that? Being tackled and manhandled is one thing but spitting? You recoil reflixivley, lips curling as you reach up to try and wipe disgusting liquid off.

“What the fuck-” You start, but before you can even finish your sentence you’re yanked forward by your neck.

You yelp as you’re thrown from between his thighs, hips twisted awkwardly and head slamming back against the mirror. You cry out at the sharp pain at the back of your skull, but before you can think of doing anything there’s a hand around your neck again, a body crouched in front of you - over you - keeping you from doing anything.

You gape up at the actor, panting and surprised. None of the other employees even got close to touching customers - half of them didn’t even look like they wanted to be there - what the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he just take his job way too seriously

He’s far too close to you now, your nose nearly brushing where his shoulder be, his boots on either side of your thighs, his chest pressed so close that you can’t do anything with your hands.

The hand not around your neck comes up to your cheeks, grabbing them both in one hand and pinching until your lips pucker up. You squirm, letting out a noise of surprise and pain when his thumb and pointer finger dig in between your teeth to force your mouth open. One eye squeezes shut at the ache, but there’s nowhere for you to go with him caging you in.

This time when he spits, it lands right in the little hole he’s made for himself. With how close he is, you see the way his lips twitch up in the corners.

You try your best to get out from under him, hands pushing at his shoulders and legs desperately kicking. But he’s like a statute above you, hard as stone and immoveable. 

He leans so close that his lips nearly brush yours, meeting your glare with a spark of amusement. 

“Like how it tastes?” He purrs, chest rumbling against yours.

You make a noise somewhere between offended and annoyed, trying to throw yourself every which way for even an inch of freedom. All you manage is a tighter grip on your jaw and neck, leaving you wincing.

“Lots more where that came from,” he promises.

It’s insultingly easy for him to manhandle you, and you curse all the times you swore to yourself you’d finally start taking self-defense classes. You can barely manage a single blow, and when your hands or feet do make contact he doesn’t even flinch.

There’s absolutely nothing you can do as you’re wrestled to the floor. He gets you flat on your back then kneels over your head, his knees so close that you worry he’ll squeeze them together and pop your head like a berry.

He doesn’t give you a chance to sit up, planting one heavy hand in the center of your chest and leaning his weight forward, knocking the air out of you. You finally regain the ability to speak when his other hand moves to his belt, undoing it right above your face.

“What are you-? No, no, get the hell off me!” You shout, desperately pushing at his arm and trying to get enough leverage with your feet to squirm away. “Don’t you fucking dare- help! Somebody help!”

Your screams go ignored, blending right in with that stupid clown music and bouncing off the mirrors just to come straight back to your ears. Your noise doesn’t deter him at all, and he’s got his belt off and jeans yanked down despite your resistance. 

“No, no, no, don’t- stop, please, you can’t-” you gasp, eyes flying wide as you find yourself staring up at his cock above you. 

He doesn’t give you any warning, just grabs your jaw, holds it open, and sheathes himself down your throat.

Your limbs spasm, every instinct in your body screamin to get away as he slips right past your gag reflex. You’re terrified that you’ll vomit and choke on his cock, the fear dousing you in icy cold and leaving you limp for a minute. All you can think about is breathing around the intrusion in your throat, finding some way not to suffocate and die on a sticky mirror maze floor.

“Finally,” you hear him grunt from above you. He grabs both of your wrists, easily ignoring your weak pulls and tying them together with his belt. “Somethin’ to shut you up.”

You try and make a sound around his cock, yanking your hands away and panicking even more when you feel how firmly tied they are. You make another sound, insitively trying to cry out even with something stuffed in your mouth.

He moans above you, lowering himself to his elbows over your body. “Yeah, just like that,” he pants. “Mouth feel’s fuckin’ heavenly.”

You go silent, determined not to give this piece of shit anything he wants. Tears pour down your temples and across the tops of your ears, and your throat burns.

His hips move slowly against your face, grinding himself as deep as he can get before pulling out just a few inches and sliding back in. He’s got an unfairly large cock, and there’s already an ache developing in your jaw from just seconds held so wide open.

His foreskin catches on your teeth when he pulls the whole way out just to fuck back in, and you’re sharply reminded of the fact that you have teeth.

When his cock bottoms out, his balls resting against your eyes, you bite down, praying it’s enough to break skin.

It’s not. Instead of blood pouring into your mouth and a screaming man falling off of you, you hear the man snarl, pulling his dick out entirely and slamming it back down your throat so harshly that it feels almost like he’s punched you in the face.

“No fucking teeth,” he snaps above you, and you feel his weight shift back onto his knees, then his hands grab at your thighs and throw them open. He flips your skirt up and before you can think to bite down again lands a stinging slap against the gusset of your underwear.

You nearly scream around his cock, hips snapping closed to try and smother the pain. He only growls another sound, using one hand to hold you open and the other to rain down a series of progressively harder smacks.

Your breath hitches as you sob, hardly able to get any air in around his thrusts as he starts them back up again. Every time he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, he lands another hit to your poor pussy. You can’t help but wail around him.

“There it is,” he moans, the sound loud and unrestrained. “God you feel good screamin’ around my cock. Good fuckin’ hole, huh?”

He punctuates the last four words with slaps, leaving his length inside your throat and going back to that horrible grinding against your face. You go silent again, using all of your willpower to keep from screaming. What little thought is left in your head is used to figure out how best to breathe through your nose without choking on snot.

He doesn’t smack you again, but you feel his fingers trace around the edges of your panties. Your hips wiggle against your will, just trying to get away from the violation. One of your legs is pinned to the floor by the thigh, but the other oscillates between going limp and trying to get leverage and force your body up.

His fingers hook around the gusset of your underwear, but before you can even worry about him touching you there, he pulls them up towards your body.

He does it with such force that you’re left squealing, hips flying off the ground to try and lessen the pressure against your clit. His hand pulls so far up that you feel it resting nearly at your belly button. You can’t help the little gasping, gagging noises as he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth again.

You hear - you feel - him laugh, swaying his hand from left to right. Your hips try to follow naturally, just desperate to alleviate any of the pressure you can.

“Like a little puppet,” he murmurs, yanking even further up, moaning when you scream.

He lets them go only a few thrusts later, big hand smoothing the fabric down over your cunt. You can feel that it’s stretched out, a little looser around the meat of your pussy, and the thought only makes you cry harder.

But you go silent again. It’s the one thing left in your control - even pinned to the floor, hands tied, legs useless, mouth stuff, you can decide how much noise you make.

He doesn’t like that. He groans a little when you go quiet again, tapping your thigh sharply.

“No, come on, make your little noises again. Feels real nice on my cock.”

This time you’re ready for the smack against your vulva, and you remain silent. You stay silent for the next three too.

His hips work with a little more force again, balls smacking against your face and leaving you to squeeze your eyes shut. After the next slap his hand doesn’t lift again, just rubs over your vulva slowly.

It’s pure luck on his part that he happens to rub over your clit. It’s a pure lack of luck on your part that you moan at the sudden and unexpected pleasure, completely taken off guard.

He stills above you, then slowly repeats the movement. You’re helpless to the little whimpers coming from your throat, and you curse the fact that you’ve always been loud during sex. He zeros in on exactly how to rub your clit unreasonably quickly, fingers sure through the fabric of your underwear.

“That what you need?” He rumbles a laugh above you. “Pain won’t make you noisy, but pleasure will? I can work with that.”

Before you can even begin to question what that means, your underwear are tucked to the side, and there’s a face buried in your pussy.

He doesn’t bother taking any time to explore or try and learn your body, just dives tongue-first to your clit. His technique of lick first, figure out what feels good later unfortunately works on you, and you’re left writhing beneath him, eyes rolled back in pleasure and moans muffled.

He groans agaisnt you, too, lips vibrating against your clit in a horrible and delicious way. “There you go.” You can barely hear him over the sounds of your own choking, especially with his own voice muffled in your folds. “That feels good, keep going.”

You don’t want to, but the magic he works against your clit leaves you no choice. You can’t help the hitched cries spilling from your lips, even if they make you cry all that much harder as you hear them.

He doesn’t take much longer to come, and you’re torn between resenting the fact that it’s your sounds that get him off and being glad that he does so he can get off of you.

He comes with a loud groan, sent right into your cunt and dragging you far too close to an edge you do not want to see, and sends thick ropes right down your throat. It’s almost a kindness that you can’t taste him, only have to swallow as quickly as possible so you don’t choke. The movements of your throat only draw out his orgasm though, and you’re locked in a terrible cycle for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t get you off. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or not.

You gasp when he finally pulls out of your throat, taking uninhibited breaths for the first time in far too many minutes. You can’t shut your jaw from the pain, but you also can’t kick your legs when he kneels up more fully.

He’s silent as he takes back his belt, and no matter how much you beg your arms to move, they remain still on your stomach. He shifts off of you, and you whine wordlessly when he grabs a handful of your hair, wiping his flaccid cock off in it.

Still, you don’t move.

He stands and redoes his belt silently, the jingle loud even with the clown music still playing. You stare up at him, and he holds eye contact with you. For some reason, you can’t look away.

He crouches down again before he leaves, and you can’t help but flinch away. He doesn’t touch you sexually again, though, only reaches out and pushes your jaw closed with two firm fingers.

You hate that he still has the mask pulled up, because it means you can see his smirk.

“That was fun. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”

He’s gone before you manage to understand what he’s said, and the tears start all over again when you do.

—

It takes you a while to scrape yourself off of the floor. You only catch sight of yourself in one mirror before you stare at the ground.

Your makeup is ruined, teartracks running down your temples and both cheeks. There are smudges along your jaw where his hands grabbed. Your lips are swollen and red. It could not be more obvious what’s just happened to you.

You plant one hand on the wall to your right, and keep your eyes firmly planted on your sneakers as you leave the maze. You feel almost detached from yourself, unable to truly understand what happened, what it means.

The throbbing between your thighs is distracting. You worry you might chafe from how soaked your panties are.

It doesn’t take long to find your friend once you finally make it out. She takes one look at you and laughs, teases you about having fun without her. You can’t bring yourself to correct her, and she picks up on your tone quickly, dropping the subject.

The two of you walk silently to your car. You hate it, but you can’t help but scan every actor. Thankfully - or maybe not thankfully? You don’t know anymore - none of them are even close to as big as the masked man in the hall of mirrors was.

You tuck your hands beneath your armpits as you finally make it to the parking lot, walking as quickly as you can get away with without running. Your limbs go a little looser as you get to your car, mind relaxing as it recognizes how close you are to safety. 

You freeze when you finally make it to the driver’s side door, lungs going still and heart beating so quickly you worry it’ll pound right out of your chest.

There, sitting in the driver’s seat, is a skeleton mask sewed onto a balaclava.

[ghostgirl-22]

18+ !NSFW!

Patrick would definitely try to convince Art to wear his ex girlfriend’s lacy red panties. And Art would tell him to “fuck off”. But one weekend when he expects Patrick to be out late he gets bored and pulls them on wondering what they’ll feel like.

The cool silky sensation turns him on and suddenly he’s touching himself probably not even realizing he’s lying in Patrick’s bed and not his own. And when Patrick gets home early and walks in on Art flushed and moaning. Squirming in his bed, his swollen cock barely contained by the thin fabric and he’s already come at least once (maybe more) so it’s all over him. Art sits up on his elbows looking guilty as sin and so debauched. He whispers shyly, “I think I like it.”

Patrick gets so hard so fast he nearly passes out.

[osamusriceballs]

Kinktober Day 3 <3

Akaashi x anal

Warnings: NSFW, fem reader

Words: ~ 1,5k

Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next Day

"You're doing so well, love."

You claw your nails into the wood of the table, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. Akaashi has been talking you through it, easing you into it, calming you with his words until the nervousness had faded. And you feel safe with him, safe with the way he kisses you, safe with the way his hands ever so soft and gentle while he roams them up and down your sides, his gaze soft and loving, yet still filled with a fire and passion most failed to see. His reassuring words, always reminding you that you can tell him to stop anytime if it's too much or if it hurts- that is exactly the gentle and caring man you fell so hard for. And when he had asked you if he could fuck your ass- his eyes basically sparkling behind the black rimmed glasses, and his voice barely containing his excitement- who are you to deny him when he motions you to bend over his desk and to pull up your skirt after you agreed so enthusiastically?

Now, he's got you bound over his desk, the papers under your chest crumbling, and you pray internally there is nothing important among them that he needs to edit. Your backside is exposed, your panties doing not much to hide your arousal, yet you still feel the slightest ting of nervousness in your stomach for what is about to come. His hands caress your ass, ever so gently tugging on the waistband of your panties before he pulls them down your legs and discards them on the floor.

"I'll go slow, don't worry. I'll make sure to make you feel so good." His voice is soothing, and you hum approvingly, subconsciously arching your back when two of his fingers press against your folds. "I'm not taking your ass just now. I'll just start with a few fingers today, okay?" Your eyes widen at his words, but a shiver of excitement runs down your spine despite your nervousness. A few?

"Okay," you gasp, your walls fluttering while he makes sure to thoroughly rub along your folds, your legs shaking every time he rubs against your clit, and your breath starts to come more rapid and airy at his ministrations. "All for me?" he suddenly asks, his fingers halting at your entrance, clearly coated in your arousal. "All for you, Keiji. Always for you-" your jaw drops when he slowly pushes one finger inside of you, slowly, one centimeter at a time until he's knuckles deep, and his palm presses flatly against your clit. He stills for a second, not moving until he feels you wiggle against him; only then does he curl his finger and slowly pulls it out. "Oh, fuck, Keiji-" you gasp at the action, clenching around his finger, your arousal allowing him to easily repeat the motion, curling it inside of you again and making sure to brush against your sweet spot. "More," you whisper, pressing your ass against the hardness that you feel in his pants- he's obviously very much turned on by this. "I'll give you more. Everything," he responds, his voice a tad bit deeper than usual, giving away his feelings and showing how much he is affected by this.

He adds another finger, making sure to not hurt you while doing so, his pace slightly picking up when he feels you clenching around him again and again. "Does that feel good?" he rasps as he leans down, bringing his lips right next to your ear. "Yes- really good," your eyes almost roll back while his fingers keep fucking you, his palm rubbing against your clit, making you feel so, so good. His lips graze along your neck, his free arm now coming down to rest on the table right next to your face, and you feel your legs shaking as he brings you closer to your high.

Your breath stocks when he suddenly slows down the movement of his fingers, a whine leaving your lips when he starts to pull them out completely. "Shhh, I know. I know, my love. Just wait a bit longer, I'll make you feel really good."

Akaashi leans back, his hands on your hips softly turning you around until you face him, and your cheeks heat up when he pushes you to sit on his desk, your ass and pussy exposed to his gaze when he stands between your legs. His eyes search for any signs of hesitation in your face, but you bring one hand to the back of his head and pull him to kiss you- and he does. His lips ever so gentle and soft, the kiss making you feel warm, and you lean back after a few moments, your head dizzy with lust and affection for him. "Can we keep going?" he whispers, his hands roaming along your thighs.

You nod, your body subconsciously tensing when his fingers glide along your folds, starting at your clit, making sure to pay extra attention to the sensitive bud, before he follows the same path down again, collecting even more wetness at your entrance before his fingers glide between your cheeks.

"Breathe. Breathe for me. Deep breaths and relax." He reassures you, waiting a few moments until he's heard you taking a few deep breaths before his wet finger presses against your hole. You gasp for air, your legs almost trying to close but his body between your thighs keeps them wide opened for him. A moan leaves your lips when his fingertip slowly pushes inside, his eyes focused on the way your body seems to suck in his finger, the tight ring of muscles slowly relaxing and allowing him to enter while you keep on taking deep breaths and try to relax. Your eyes and mouth are wide open when he continues to push in his finger inside, the feeling so foreign, yet still pleasant. "Is this okay?" You nod at his question, unable to form words, too overwhelmed at the new sensation. His finger is now fully inside of you, pausing for a second, but his pupils are blown wide from lust behind his glasses, and you basically see his erection twitching in his pants while he waits.

A few moments pass, and he slowly retreats the finger, just the tiniest bit before he pushes it back again. He moves, pushing back a bit further, and the small movement makes you moan, whining his name while your walls flutter around nothing. You grab the edge of the table harder when you feel another finger prod at your stretched hole, and it doesn't take long for him to work a second finger in, carefully moving them in and out, your eyes rolling back at the new sensation. "You're doing so well, taking my fingers so good," he praises, his words only adding fuel to your desire. You arch your back, eager for more, eager to have him give you more of this.

"Touch yourself for me," he rasps, his voice deep and filled with desire. You frantically nod, your fingers quickly moving to your clit, starting to rub the sensitive nub in the same pace that he thrusts his fingers, moans now spilling from your lips and whimpers of his name. He picks up the pace, now boldly moving his fingers, his other hand holding your waist to make sure that you can't move away from him. Your legs start to shake, your body getting close so fast after he edged you before, too overwhelmed from all the sensations. "Cum for me, love. You can cum anytime." His eyes focus on your face now, your expression fully blissed out at how full you feel, your fingers restlessly rubbing at your clit to bring you even closer, and you moan loudly one last time before you clench around his fingers, his pace not changing to prolong your high, your fingers rubbing and pausing in the rhythm of your clenching cunt, while your body arches from the table. His breath is heavy too while he watches you writhing in pleasure, his fingers only pulling out when he sees how your own fingers weakly stop moving, your body going limp on the table after all the tension leaves you.

He leans down to plant kisses on your face, kissing your cheeks, your nose and finally your lips when he sees you smile, his excitement still evident on his face. "Did you like that, love?" you feel his hard cock pressing against your bare ass, while your body is still trying to calm down from your high. "Yes, so, so much. Wanna do it again, next time with more," you gasp when he carefully thrusts his hips at your words, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist at the action. His eyebrows lift at the way you eagerly press against him, your body aching for another release- and he smiles while he kisses you one more time, clearly knowing what to do next.

"Everything you want, my love."

[devildomcuties]

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Day 1: Lucifer - Dumbification

Day 2: Mammon - Thigh Riding

Day 3: Leviathan - Cockwarming

Day 4: Satan - Magic Bondage/Edging

Day 5: Asmo - Fuck Machine

Day 6: Beel - A/B/O Dynamics

Day 7: Belphie - Cockworship

[skibasyndrome]

SOOOOO. well. there goes posting every day in kinktober 💀 definitely overestimated my abilities to write smut while traveling. I hope I can get back to posting tomorrow. Aaaaaand..... i might just post for three extra days in november then possibly maybe....

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎: Breeding w/ Joel Miller

a/n: IT'S DAY TWOO WHOOP and were starting it off with joel because he's literally the only man to exist ever in the history of ever so... i had a little bit too much fun while writing this ;]

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

Being under Joel was nothing short of heaven, the press of his strong chest against your softer one, the feeling of his beard tickling the side of your face as he whispered dirty words into your ear. You had no idea how you’d gotten so lucky, and maybe it was Joel that would ask himself that same question too.

For the past week Joel had been quite pent up, his problems ranging from being prevented from being intimate with you because of your surrogate daughter, but it had seemed as though everyone he had been assigned to patrol with had made it their personal mission to piss him off. 

You could see it in his face that he was equivalent to a ticking time bomb with the amount of stress piling up and, that was when you made a suggestion to Ellie that she should go and have a sleepover with Dina - which caused you to hold yourself back from teasing her about the blush that painted her cheeks at the mention of the girl’s name.

That’s how you landed here, ass raised and back arched, your chest pressed deep into the mattress as Joel took you from behind.

“Goddamn, Darlin’.” He grunted as he pulled out of you, allowing the tip of his cock to catch your entrance before sending you up the bed with a harsh thrust. A high pitched yelp of shock quickly melted into a deep moan when he brushed up against your g-spot. “‘Been waitin’ to fuck this pretty pussy all week.” He said lewdly.

You felt a heavy hand spread you, and it was extremely apparent that he was watching where he entered and exited you. “Thought I’d die if I didn’t get’ta feel ya wrapped around me again.” 

Your fingers curled around the sheets, a bolt of heat flushing your body from head to toe at the feeling of his burning gaze and dirty words. 

“Never again, right sweetheart?” He asked smugly. When you didn’t answer him as quickly as he wanted you to, it earned you a harsh smack of the sensitive skin of your ass. “Never!” You cried out, “Never again!” You clenched around him at the pleasurable sting, the feeling of your release beginning to brew in your gut.

“Maybe I should give ya somethin’ to remind ya who you belong to.” He bends over you - the best his back would allow that is. “Would ya let me fill ya up sweetheart, hm?” The idea nearly sent you over the edge, and before you could stop yourself, you nodded furiously. “Yes, yes! Please, please, fill me up, baby please!” You begged pathetically, pushing your hips back onto his greedily, as if he really needed any further convincing to do as you asked.

“I gotcha, doll, I gotcha.” He reassures.

Leaning up, he fucks into you with reckless abandon, his mind set on one thing and one thing only. You preened at the fast friction, chest heaving in an attempt to suck in air from where your face was pressed against the bed. 

You could feel it, feel him, and you need his spend as badly as you needed to eat, forever desperate and forever wanting.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He curses, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated before stilling completely. The pulsing of his cock was what sent you over the edge, a strangled cry slipping past your lips before your body slumped down in contentment, belly warm and full.

“There ya go, honey.” He coos, kissing your shoulder sweetly. 

“Now, we jus’ gotta make sure it sticks.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @zippertwat @hallecarey1 @alixwriter

[princesssukuna]

Day two - Let's Gamble

CW: strip poker, fingering, oral (receiving), alcohol and tobacco mentioned.

A/N: Did I started black clover simply because of yami? yes. Enjoy!

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

 “Dammit woman, you’re cheating!” The leader of the black bulls, slams his palm against the table. You couldn’t help it but give a mischievous laugh. Yami has always enjoyed gambling, but especially with you. You weren’t rivals, but nor would you say you were friends to be exact. Just two people that enjoyed chasing the high with one another.

“I guess the game is over. Nice playing with you.” You start to collect the money and his hand covers your wrist. 

“Not too fast. I never said I was done.” You raised your eyebrow at the man.

“With what money to be exact?” He grunted knowing that you have left him empty pocket, but you can tell he wanted to continue the game. That’s when you got an idea. A very risky idea, that you were willing to take on this muscular man in front of you.

“Fine, the belt. Take it off.” You tap your finger in the middle of the table. The man looks around, and grunts as he takes it off. It was past hours at the bar where you were playing. The bartender didn’t want to wait for the both of you to finish so he handed over the keys and told you to not break anything. Despite just the two of you alone, seeing him look around as if anyone stayed behind was pretty cute. 

“Perfect. Let’s begin, shall we?” You smiled as you shuffled the cards. “Not so fast there. If I threw in my belt, you need to do the same. Make it even.” you cross your hands in front of you. He wanted to play with fire, so be it. 

“Let’s make a deal. If the person loses, they need to take off a clothing item each time. The winner keeps their clothes on” You reached your hand out to him. “Deal?” He looks into your eyes, trying to get a read on you. He wanted to fight this little game of yours, but he was a gambler. The risk made it worth it. Yami smirks, reaching out and shaking your hand. “You’re on.” 

Round after round, the man kept losing to the point the only clothes he had left were his briefs. “Ready to give up?” You couldn’t keep your eyes off his muscular big chest. It was obvious he was a strong man, but you never imagine being so close to his bare body like this. Yami noticed how your pupils started to enlarge, biting your lower lip. Little did you know, you walked into his trap.

“Not a chance. Something tells me, I’ll be lucky next round.” He takes a huff from his cigarette as you hand him over the cards. You start playing the next round and in a blink of an eye, you  lose. 

“What?!” You shoot up from your chair. “You cheated!” Yami slapped his knee as he threw his head bacl and laughed. “A deal is a deal.” Your fingers dug into the palm of your hands, but you never backed down from a bet. Game on. You grab the hem of your dress and pull it up, leaving you only with a black lace bra and a lace black thong. You can feel your face getting hotter when you notice Yami kept his eyes on your body. Taking every mental note where he wants to touch, kiss, and bite that soft skin of yours, as he took another huff from his cigarette. “Well are we still playing or not?” He snaps you out of your embarrassment and you take a seat again. 

You were definitely off your game. You were getting nervous, but also you were starting to feel an excitement starting to build in you. The game started once again and you couldn’t even focus. Your eyes were glued to the almost naked man in front of you.  Rubbing your thighs together trying to relieve the feeling you were getting between them. 

“Seems like I won again.” He throws his card on the table, catching you off guard once again. You looked at your cards and you had nothing. He won. You looked at the man smirking at you with his big arms crossed in front of his chest. Without saying anything else, you got up, unsure on what to take off next. 

“Come here.” His deep voice felt like he put a magic spell on you. Without any hesitation, you walked over to him. “What should I take?” His finger started to lightly brush over your shoulder tracing down your bra strap down to the bottom of your breast. Quietly gasping when his finger went over your hard nipple. “This?” His face got extremely close to your stomach as he remained seated. You can feel his hot breath tickle your skin. Your breathing started to pick up as his hand moved down to your hip where the strap of your thong was hanging from. He pulls it to the side and lets it go, making it slap against your hot body. “Or this?” 

Yami looks up at your flustered face. Your eyes were half closed, holding on to his shoulder like your life depended on it. You looked delicious from his view and was ready for you to say the word and make you his. You licked your lips, trying to form words for you to say. “Take me.” 

Without any hesitation he picks you up and sits you on the edge of the table, pulling off your thong and throwing it with the rest of his clothes. He starts to rub your clit, making you make those noises he has wished to hear from you for so long. 

“Tell me, is this what you planned all along?” he started to tease your wet folds and you rolled your head back. 

“Answer me women.” He inserted not one but two fingers into you, making you moan louder than you expected. Engraving your nails into his forearms. “Yes!” 

Yami smirks, as he continues to finger you. His mouth starts to kiss your body exactly where he planned to do it. Leaving a trail of kisses with some bite marks until he reached between your legs. You felt his hot breath against your core, making your eyes roll back. 

“W-wait Yami~ f-fuck” Your grabbed on to his black hair as he dine into you. Feeling his strong tongue inside of you, feeling yourself getting close. His strong arms keeping your thighs far apart so he can enjoy your sweet taste that he’s already addicted to. 

“I-im gonna -” you finished on his face before you were even able to finish the sentence. You felt high, a high you didn’t want to come off anytime soon. You try to regain your breath, hair sticking to your skin and the captain of the bulls towering over you. Gathering your juice on the corner of his lip with his thumb and licking it. You wanted more. You weren’t ready for it to end.

“One more round?” 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

(Masterlist)

I love yami

™princesssukuna

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Kinktober 2024 Day Twenty Two

Cockwarming

John "Soap" MacTavish/Rodolfo Parra

Soap’s ears pricked up as soon as he heard movement coming from the bedroom. He sat up from where he’d been stretched out on the sofa, chucking his sketch book onto the coffee table, freezing as he watched it hit his cup of tea, shoving towards the edge.

It stopped before it fell, so Soap was able to rescue it as he stood, emptying it into the sink of the kitchenette that had been tacked onto the back wall of the living room. He left the mug on the counter when he heard more noise from the bedroom, making himself hurry as he crossed the small safehouse to find out what was going on. He got there quickly, as the rest of the flat only consisted of a short corridor, with a bedroom on one side, and a bathroom-come-storage space on the other.

Soap opened the bedroom door to find Rudy sitting up and trying to get out of bed. Rudy squinted up at him as Soap crossed to the bedside, turning the lamp on and filling the room with its dim light. It was midday and blazing sun outside, but they’d kept the curtains closed to conceal their presence there while Rudy recovered.

“Soap?” Rudy coughed, hunching over as he tried to shove the blankets back from his lap. “What happened?”

“You got nicked. A knife, but nothing really serious.” Soap nodded to the gauze patch on Rudy’s thigh, as a voice in the back of his head wondered at what point he’d built a mental tier list for the severity of knife wounds. “We’re in one of your safehouses. How do you feel?”

“Fine.” Rudy sighed, poking the tape holding the patch down. “It… aches a little bit.”

“You had to have stitches.” Soap stood in front of Rudy as he swung his legs towards the edge of the bed, intent on at least trying to stop him from standing. “Alejandro told me to make sure that you get some rest.”

“I can rest in the living room.” Rudy pushed himself to sit on the edge of the bed, his feet hitting the floor as he held his hand out to Soap. “Give us a hand.”

Soap took it and pulled Rudy up onto his feet, catching him when Rudy staggered. “Easy.”

“Okay. Maybe, I do need to rest.” Rudy muttered, but leant on Soap, clearly intent on following through with his idea of resting on the sofa, rather than the bed.

Soap led the way, one of Rudy’s arms slung over his shoulder as the other grabbed onto the walls for support, trying to conceal how each step made his breath hitch, until Soap set him down on the sofa. Rudy groaned, quickly settling and snatching up the TV remote. He muttered something under his breath as he surfed through the channels, looking up when Soap handed him some painkillers. Soap waited for Rudy to take the meds before swapping the packet for a bottle of water and some crackers, tucking the painkillers back in the medical bag before he took his seat next to Rudy, picking up his sketchbook again.

“Thank you.” Rudy set the remote back on the table, having settled on a local news show despite Soap’s interruption, before leaning over to glance at Soap’s sketches. “You draw?”

“Yeah.” Soap showed him the sketch book, briefly flicking through the pages, mostly bearing variously finished and unfinished sketches of the other members of 141.

“Lots of Ghost in there…”

“Ha, ha.” Soap flipped to a blank page. “Would you rather I do you instead?”

“Sure.” Rudy got into a comfortable position, leaning back against the sofa cushions with his eyes trained on the TV screen. “Go ahead.”

Soap nodded, and put his pencil to paper. He sketched out his usual base, glancing up between his paper and Rodolfo frequently, filling in the core components of his profile, focusing on correcting his proportions before he started to do the details. He filled in Rudy’s eyebrows, showing how they pinched in the middle when he was deep in thought, how his face relaxed, lips curling up minutely in the corners when the news anchor made a joke, and laughter erupted from the TV. Soap sucked in a breath, trying to perfect the curl that appeared at the ends when Rudy’s hair fell down over his forehead, when he glanced up again to find Rudy watching him.

“Why are you so hot?” Rudy mumbled, tilting his head towards Soap.

“What?” Soap frowned, leaning up from his sketch book.

“You’re hot.” Rudy repeated, sitting up to face him.

“Not a question this time?” Soap leaned into him, laying his sketchbook aside.

Rudy shook his head. “No.”

Soap shuffled their bodies closer together. “Angling for a kiss?”

“A kiss… and maybe something more.” Rudy tilted his head in, nicking the kiss he was after.

Soap didn’t let him get away from it, reaching out to cup Rudy’s neck, before quickly pressing his arm against Rudy’s chest as he felt Rudy trying to move. “If you tear those stitches, Alejandro and Ghost will kill me.”

Rudy groaned, staring down at the gauze patch. “You’re right. Guess we have to take it easy, or something.”

“You don’t have to make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

Rudy rolled his eyes and went back to kissing him, leaving Soap free to run his hand up Rudy’s thigh, moving it up to palm Rudy’s cock through his boxers, before delicately nudging the waistband aside and pushing his hand inside.

“How about I keep your cock warm in my ass?” Soap murmured.

Rudy groaned, rolling his hips up into Soap’s hand. “Sounds good.”

Soap rolled over onto back, quickly kicking off his joggers before helping Rudy crawl up on top of him, holding Rudy’s hips tight as Rudy nudged his cock into Soap’s hole. Rudy’s breath caught in his throat as he sunk into him, going deeper and deeper, until his hips knocked against Soap’s ass. Soap sighed blissfully once he was full, moving his hands up to Rudy’s shoulders, pulling him down to lie on top of him so Rudy would stay still, and Soap could run his hands through Rudy’s hair.

“What do you reckon Ghost and Alejandro are up to?” Rudy mumbled, trailing his fingers around in circles on Soap’s chest.

“Dunno.” Soap mumbled, happy and content with his ass full. “Probably fucking.”

Rudy laughed, his chest rumbling against Soap’s. “You reckon?”

“You never know. They might be.”

“Which one of them tops?”

“Mmmm…” Soap tapped his fingers on Rudy’s shoulder as he thought. “Alejandro.”

“You think?”

“Ghost likes a caring top.”

“Alejandro’s not caring.” Rudy snorted with laughter.

“I mean, attentive.” Soap yawned. “He knows what you need without being told, you know.”

Rudy nodded. “I do.”

Soap thought about it some more. “It would depend on his mood, though. Ghost isn’t always amenable to it.”

Rudy gasped in mock excitement. “What does he do then?”

“Doesn’t negotiate.” Soap murmured, squeezing Rudy tight. “He knows what’s good for you, and you’re going to take it without complaining.”

“Hmm… Alejandro would probably get on with that.”

“Really?” Soap was surprised.

“Yeah…” Rudy sighed. “He gets too… consumed with it all sometimes. When he’s like that, he likes to have someone else making all of the decisions, telling him that it’s all going to be okay.”

“Ghost does that quite well.”

“You’d know.”

“Heh.” Soap chuckled. “I would.”

Rudy groaned. “I’m sleepy.”

“So, sleep then. You need it.” Soap gently rubbed Rudy’s back, relief flooding through him as he watched Rudy’s eyes closed, his breath slowly evening out as Soap murmured wishes for sweet dreams into his ear.

It wasn’t long before Rudy had fallen back into a deep sleep, this time resting on Soap’s chest. Soap rolled his hips minutely, whispering Rudy’s name, before sighing softly and closing his eyes, too. He tilted his head back, timed his breaths to go along with Rudy’s slow ones, and before long, he was asleep, too.

Then, a hand, a gloved hand, was on his brow. Soap cracked his eyes open to find Ghost staring down at him.

“Hey, Johnny.” He whispered.

“Hey, LT.” Soap briefly glanced down at Rudy, making sure he was still asleep. He was, barely shifting against Soap as he breathed quietly.

“Where is…?” Alejandro appeared next, his words fading in his mouth when he saw Rudy lying with Soap. “Ah. Here.”

“I’ll go get ‘em a blanket.” Ghost was smiling under the mask as he turned away to do just that, letting Alejandro lean down to replace him.

“Hey Rudy…” Alejandro whispered, watching as Rudy wrinkled his nose in his sleep.

“He’s out like a light.” Soap murmured, struggling to raise his hand to check his watch for the time. “Has been since…”

Alejandro chuckled, brushing his hand over Soap’s forehead. “We get the idea. Go back to sleep, Soap.”

“Only if you treat Ghost nicely.” Soap mumbled, already drifting off.

Alejandro chuckled. “Sure, I will.”

“You’ll what?” Ghost asked, reappearing with a blanket, shaking it out before draping it down over the pair on the sofa.

“Take care of you…” Alejandro’s words were faint as the pair of them wandered away, and Soap’s eyes slid closed again. “Like he is Rudy.”

[ja3hwa]

You guys aren't ready for day 4, hehe. First multiple member day 🤭 its gonna be wild.

[yummygender]

Kinktober 1 & 2 (18+ OBVIOUSLY)

Pressure and Confined

Mobius wasn’t 100% on board when Loki said that he wanted Mobius to step on him. Not to mention that the youthful looking god was already tied down to the bed and naked. This was a bit much for this old man to handle…but that look in his blue eyes.

“Please Mobius…please…”

“But Loki, I’m wearing my shoes…”

“Even better~”

“LOKI!!”

The trickster laughed, finding the whole thing a game as the agent grew annoyed.

Fine.

He wanted pressure? He’ll get pressure.

Mobius stepped on Loki’s chest, digging his heel deep onto the pale skin as he tightened the ropes around the god’s neck, nearly choking him out as the agent began to smile.

“Having fun yet?”

No response…silence…which actually felt nice. All Loki could do was stare up at Mobius while his member stuck up like a flagpole, begging for attention that it would most likely never get. Not in a million years due to Loki’s need for Mobius’ attention to be all on his face. Loki was an egomaniac who loved the attention…it was only natural that he’d want Mobius to see his beauty on full display, but now the agent was getting a little worried.

“Is this an Asgard thing? Choking you out?”

“No…just a…sick fantasy…”

“Well, that’s one way to describe it.”

Mobius eventually let go of the rope as he removed his belt, pants, and underwear while he lifted Loki’s legs in the air.

“Ready?”

“Please…”

“Please what, little boy?”

Silence…

“P-please Daddy…”

“Atta boy, I was worried that I hurt ya.”

Mobius lined up and began to thrust as Loki gripped onto the cuffs that Mobius used to keep Loki still on the bed. Being confined to the dorm bed of the TVA would usually anger Loki to the point of no return, but luckily Mobius knew just what to do with an angry trickster god. Anal.

“Ohhh…Mobi!!”

“Yeah little prince?”

Loki whined and whined and whined like a spoiled brat as his face contorted into twisted expressions of pleasure.

“Gonna…”

Before Loki could form a full sentence, Mobius’ seed filled Loki as the trickster himself followed suit. The two began panting as Mobius pulled out and untied Loki.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah baby?”

“…I love you…”

[bosspigeon]

so due to money issues and also the fact that i have kind of a Big Project in the works i'm trying to figure out kofi and hfdjshg lord help me

[sparkie96]

13 Days of Kinktober Day Two: “Teasing”

In every workplace, whether it be the BSAA or the DSO, there’s bound to some teasing between coworkers, right?

Except, what do you do when not only do you not work in the same office, let alone work for the same organization, but you’re both on an assignment and teasing one another in both the non conventional and conventional way?

Long story short: Leon and Chris tease one another during an assignment where both the DSO and BSAA are on the scene and things get…heated.

Rated for Language, Canon-Typical Violence, and Sexual Situations.

(I did say I was doing thirteen days…but I wasn’t going to limit it to just October 😉)