#might get back to it after the cage releases

[hascious]

can i marry your alice

good luck with that

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, bad politics, chemically induced heat? institutionalized reader, doctors, wack rehabilitation program, ish brainwashing

fem reader

You’d been difficult to tame. Or, he just didn’t have the time to do it properly—too busy at work and too tired when coming home. He’d wanted a sweet Omega, one who did house chores when he was away and had dinner ready for him when he got off.

You’d looked real sweet at the auction—a perfectly beautiful Omega. You weren’t cheap either—everyone had made their bids, but he’d been the one to walk away with the prize in the end. He can’t say he regrets it—he still has a fondness for you even though you’re not what he’d thought he’d purchased.

You just need some behavioral correcting. And so, he put you in an Omega institution.

It had been recommended to him. It’s not so uncommon, he later found out while reading up on the place. Auctioned Omegas tend to end up a little rough around the edges—here, at the institution, they’ll smooth those edges right out.

Sadly, there’s been a rise in unstable Omegas as of late—he reads on their website. It’s a misguided revolution taking place in several auction homes that’s to blame for it—circling modern ideas of liberation, equality, andindependence. It all stems from a place of fear, the website explains in detail—Omegas seek to stand on their own in the world. Cooped up in auction homes, they fear they’ll never see the outside without a mate—and as the years dwindle on and their prospects become slimmer, they start fantasizing about doing it on their own.

He feels sorry for you while reading it. Your attitude makes more sense now, knowing you’ve been fed a bunch of deluded nonsense. He can’t blame you for getting swept up in it—you’re a little younger than him, after all. But the silly idea of a lone Omega isn’t just laughable but dangerous. It was best of him to make sure any such notions were quashed—for your own good—before you end up doing something you might regret. 

And it seemed this place was the place to do it. In fact, many of his fellow Alphas had done the same, and they’d all sung this particular institution’s praises.

Oh, but it’s been hard. You wouldn’t talk to him much or even keep him in good company at home, but still, he misses your presence. The house seems so empty without your little everyday spats to keep him on his toes.

You’ve been away for a whole month now, and he hasn’t even been allowed to visit, not once. It would ruin the process, he was told. But he’s been assured that the caretakers there have been making great progress with you. He should be able to come pick you up as soon as the start of next week.

He remembers having been skeptical about leaving you here as he walks to announce himself at the help desk. The facility is pristine and sterile—very impersonal, just like any other hospital. He wonders if you’ve been scared. After all, it’s most likely your skittish nature that makes you so hostile, joined with misgivings making you confused. It can’t be easy. He hopes the doctors here have helped you sort things out. Maybe you won’t be so frustrated all the time.

He was led to a private room where he could complete some paperwork for your release while waiting for your discharge. He made quick work of it. A door opens, and your doctor comes through, and then, following right behind him, there’s you—his pretty little Omega.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you quite so subdued—not even when you’d been caged at the auction, there’d still been some fight to your spirit. Now, not so much—taking quiet and careful steps with your head hung, looking at your slipper-clad feet.

You pick your face up when you recognize the scent, and then you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost. Wide-eyed and lock-jawed—your breathing picks up rapidly, and his name drops from your lips like a pained whimper, followed by a sudden burst of tears and a rush toward him. “You came back—” 

You’re on him before he has the time to blink—pressed against him tightly, skin-to-skin and heart-to-heart, with your face buried in the grove of his neck. Your claws are slightly drawn, but in no effort to hurt him—rather, to cling to him. It’s not any normal hug—not that you’d ever given him one before—but even so, you’re swaddledaround his neck with your legs crossed at his back.

He’s taken aback by the behavior—it isn’t like you at all. He remembers your aversion to his touch, how you’d regard him like a plague, snarling each time he’d get too close. This was beyond new.

But you leave him no opening to comment either, too busy rambling in meek little whispers pressed into his skin, “Thank you, thank you, thank you—I knew you’d come back—knew you hadn’t forgotten about me. I’m sorry I was being difficult, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’ve forgiven me, right? You’ll take me home now, right? Please—”

He’d never been in a position to soothe you before—you’d never wanted it. He doesn’t know what else to do but smooth a hand over your hunched and shuddering back, shushing you like he’d seen mothers do with their sobbing children. You didn’t look much different right now.

“Yeah… we’re going home,” he assures you. 

You hug him a little tighter as a sob wreaks through you.

This isn’t exactly what he prepared himself for. He thought you’d be... well, he doesn’t really know... nicer?Perhaps. Agreeable. Not so violent. But not this—this broken little ball of shivering sniffles holding onto him as if the world was about to end.

He swallows thickly, then looks at your doctor—he doesn’t seem surprised. In fact, he seems utterly unfazed.

It makes him wonder, a little warily, “What have you done with her?”

The doctor seems more than happy to explain—it’s only customary, after all. He’d paid a lot to have you rehabilitated here.

“Each omega requires special treatment suited to them,” the doctor explains. “Yours was particularly unruly.”

You flinch. He feels your claws dig deeper, but they’re too blunt to draw blood and too weak to hurt anyway. But even so, your sentiments are more than clear—you fear this doctor with your entire being.

“We’ve found that in the case of hostile Omegas, the most effective way to correct their behavior is to keep them isolated and let their own instincts remind them of what they need,” the doctor continues. “Of course, we’ve taken protective measures to ensure she wouldn’t harm herself in said isolation and have fed her accordingly at scheduled times every day.” He smiles. “We can assure you she’s been perfectly safe in the pillow room.”

He lifts the silver suitcase he’d been holding, props it up, and pops the lid, revealing a row of ten syringes—a hot pink fluid within.

“This is our recommended medicine.”

You shudder even more, unrelenting in your grip around him—hanging on so tightly as if you fear someone would come and pry you off him at any moment.

“Give one to her if and when she acts up. More instructions come with the case—please read through them carefully.”

He eyes the syringes with furrowed brows, picking one up to inspect it further. They don’t look like anything he’s read about in the brochure or on the website—perhaps a brand new method for treating Omegas? This is a cutting-edge institution, after all.

He can’t guess what they must do to make you cower like that. The spit-spire he left here a month ago wouldn’t cry over a tiny needle.

“What are they?” he asks.

The doctor’s smile stretches. “Nothing dangerous. All natural hormone components.”

He’s not sure what that entails, and so he quirks a brow while laying the syringe back in its designated mold. “And what does that mean?”

The doctor clasps the case shut and hands it over to him while explaining plainly, “They induce heat.” 

He accepts the case before his ears have the chance to draw back at his words. Now that explains your sudden clinginess—why you’re so frigid.

The doctor adds, “Poor thing’s spent quite a few alone in the pillow room, so I’m sure she’ll be grateful to finally be by her mate’s side again.”

He’s speechless.

Spending heat alone, without any relief, is a form nothing short of torture. If he’d known that was what they were doing to you, he wouldn’t have sent you here in the first place. He very nearly chews the doctor out for using such barbaric methods but thinks better of it. If anything were to be done, it would be through a well-worded and filed complaint and a vow to never do business with them ever again.

Though, coming home with you by his side, still clinging to him… he can’t argue with the results. 

So he doesn’t complain. He just enjoys your new and improved wellness and promises never to use those injections on you himself. Yes, they’d forego their expiration date soon enough, dusting away in the back of his closet. He’d never ever put you through something so horrid. That’s his pledge as your mate.

Oh, but then... the honeymoon phase dissolves. And you return to your old habits of teeth and claws.

It’s never-ending barking with you all over again—you want to leave, you want to be alone, you don’t want him to touch you, you blame him for what you went through at the institution, you hate him for it, and you’ll never ever forgive him.

He doesn’t want to—he swears while holding the syringe to your thigh where he’s strapped you down in bed with ropes and knots—he doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t, but you leave him no choice when you act like a wild animal. 

The first time is always the hardest. But he doesn’t leave you alone in a room like they did at the institution—no, he helps you through it. It’s not torture this way. It’s just… well, what can he say? It’s just a little reminder to get you back on your good behavior.

You would rather stay here than get sent back to the pillow room, right?

It’s all too easy the second time around even though it shouldn’t have been. It was only a day of small uproars, nothing all that bad—refusing to greet him at the door, to make dinner, to fix his plate, to wash dishes, to come to bed. He’d allowed you days like that in the past, but this time, he’d felt himself gravitate towards his so-called last resort once again. 

Still, he’d felt a little guilty about it. 

It would be easier to refrain if it didn’t work like a charm.

Now, he goes and finds the briefcase at the drop of a hat. Say something snarky or look at him funny. Give him any opportunity, and he’ll abuse it—even things you don’t even mean to do, like burning the food, shrinking his clothes in the wash, or forgetting to make the bed in the morning. He’s on you with the syringe deep in your flesh before you can even mouth the words “I’m sorry—”

You’re limp and sweat-drenched after a few hours. He spoons you as the spasms continuously ricochet through you—his spent leaking down your thighs. Even after several rounds, the hormones are still brewing up a bad storm within your gut, thundering in your heart as its lightning zips along your limbs. Your head is a rainy cloud—heavy and full yet soft like cotton.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—it was an accident—” you mumble between labored breaths, not entirely sure what error you’d made this time, shivering against his warm chest as he cups your breast in one big hand and your swollen cunt in the other.

“I know, I know it was, baby,” he coos. “But you need to be more mindful—can’t be making so many mistakes all the time.” His lips brush your skin as he purrs, placing small pecks against your cheek and neck. “How can I trust you with my pups if you’re gonna be such a scatterbrain, hm?”

The mention of pups makes something roar more ferociously in your underbelly, and you whimper meekly in return. “I’m sorry—I’ll do better.”

“Good. I’m sure you’ll get there, sweetie.”

The storm within crackles, rumbling with a deepening hunger. Even though you feel battle-worn and ever ready for the sweet escape of sleep, there’s something even needier and heedless that makes your body feel all but set ablaze.

You’ve cum so many times already, but it’s still not enough—it’s never enough. It takes everything in you to make sense of his words—to act civil even when all you want is to jump his bones—make him fuck you until your fever breaks, then allow you rest.

But act in any way out of turn, and he’ll only drag this out. Be sweet, you remind yourself—sugar, syrup, honeycomb—sweet and soft like velvet—no teeth or claws or growling. No matter what, don’t let the animal out of the cage.

“No matter how many lessons it’ll take…” he murmurs. “I’m here to help.”

“Thank you—” you wince while rubbing your thighs together—grinding against his hand in desperation. “Can you… can we—”

He chuckles fondly, feeling you rub your ass back against his crotch wantingly. “Oh? Another round so soon?” 

You bite your lip at his teasing. Far beyond proud to not be begging, “Yes, please—pretty, pretty please—”

The sweet warble in your voice is so pitiful and cute—he can’t help the smile it brings him. “Alright, honey,” he hums while shifting, getting up with a hearty sigh, then leaning over you to give your pleading little pout a kiss. He feeds you his next words with a grin on his face, “Let’s see about that needy pussy of yours.”

He spreads and shimmies himself between your aching thighs, nice and snug against the weeping little thing between them—looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a smug smile that makes you feel like the most hopeless little Omega in the world.

He places another kiss upon your forehead—dwarfing your hand in his big one, braiding your fingers together while the other carries his meaty cock, holding it steady up to your fluttering and glossy slit. 

The size never fails to make you squirm as you look down at it—wondering why you crave it so badly when it only serves to make your body twist and scream from the stretch it gives you.

 “Don’t worry, sweetie,” he soothes the tiny cry that cracks from your throat once he starts easing the length inside the snug comforts of your walls. “Your Alpha’s here to make it all better.”

♡ BNHA – old man Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Kusakabe ♡ HQ – Daichi, Ushijima ♡ AOT – Erwin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[strwbrychffoncke]

"ah, ah, you're obsessed.. ah, ah, you're obsessed!,, 1.8k words ⸺ event masterlist synopsis: sometimes caleb just wishes to devour you whole contains: nsfw! lnds caleb x afab!reader ,obsessed!caleb but whats new ,soft?dom caleb ,pipsqueak/baby/princess used as petnames ,kissing ,praise ,slight body worship ,teasing ,facesitting ,cunnilingus ,caleb eats u out through ur panties (later they come off) ,edging ,orgasm ,overstim but barely ,implied u keep going ,i think thats it note: (edited!) releasing this late just for it to be a new concept to play with :p editing this was so hard for no reason sigh

-

if someone asked him, caleb would say, in a roundabout way, that he was utterly obsessed with you.

though honestly, it wasn't hard for anyone to decipher that on their own given the way he takes any opportunity to mention you, much less if anyone were to catch sight of him with you— the little lovesick eyes he'd be staring at you with resembled a puppy, trailing after and following your every whim (not without some of his own teasing). furthermore, the shift in his eyes that he'd give to anyone that recognized you was usually enough to demand them not to interrupt your time together.

if you were to ask him, he might even confess that you were the very air that he breathed.

maybe thats why he's kissing you with so much fervor now, stealing your breath from your lungs to fuel and burn into his, but even then its not enough, not really.

he has you caged against his bedroom door— he didn't let a second pass after it clicked closed when he tugged your arm lightly to pull you against it, back hitting the wood with a light thud— arms coming up on either side of your head to trap you against him as he devours your lips.

your hands are clutching at the front of his shirt, left with no space to fight back as caleb's kisses grow almost desperate, borderline trying to consume you. after several minutes of this, you start tugging at his thin shirt, trying your best to push him back just enough to fill your lungs with oxygen.

"cale— mmph— caleb!"

he gets the message, breaking the kiss and watching as your eyes flutter open, one of your arms coming up, back of your hand hovering over your mouth almost acting as a barrier against any more subsequent kiss attacks as you gasp for much needed air.

you're looking up at him through your lashes, eyes wide and holding a mix of shock and... shyness?

caleb thinks the flustered look is the cutest on you.

his hands come let go of the wall in favor of holding your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks for a moment before his touch goes lower, hands sliding down your neck and down your shoulders and further, rubbing up and down your sides before settling on your waist.

he feels the way you shiver at his touch, and he can't help the satisfied and pleased curl of his lips.

he leans in close, lips hovering right above your ear.

"i think i could just eat you up, pipsqueak."

expecting to fluster you further, his eyes widen in slight shock when he feels you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to plant a soft kiss against his jawline.

"then do it."

your whisper of encouragement is all that he needs.

-

he takes his time feeling your skin under his fingers, unintentionally teasing you, not realizing until you whine and tell him to hurry up, already! coaxing a fond chuckle from his lips before he's on his knees before you, his fingers ghosting over your shorts, tugging them down your legs and helping you step out of them, tossing them to the side.

he rubs his hands over your thighs back and forth, looking up at you with a fond look in his eyes.

he begins to nip at the fat, unable to suppress the need to squeeze at the plush flesh as he leaves loving marks (ones that you'll look back at and probably reprimand him for later).

but he couldn't help it. he wanted, needed to plant his lips on you, on anywhere he was able to reach.

"take them off already!"

when you squirm under his touches, body slumping against the door and head thrown back in frustration, whining again at the feel of his mouth so close yet so far to where you need him the most, he suddenly pulls back, patting your thighs as he moves to stand up.

"get up, baby," he mutters, reaching for the bottom of his shirt and slipping it over his head, tossing it to a corner of the room. you watch as he then makes his way towards his bed, laying on his back before beckoning you over.

"come and sit on my face."

your eyes widen in shock at the demand while a lazy grin is spread on his face.

"b-but, caleb—"

"c'mere already," his voice is soft but the demand within it is firm.

you take a deep breath, taking slow steps towards the bed. caleb's eyes are on you the entire way, feeling how the mattress dips under your weight and watching you crawl to sit over his lap.

his hands reach out for you, grabbing hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, dragging you up over his abs and onto his chest.

"caleb, wait—"

your hands shoot out to grab onto him but he ignores your protest, lifting you up with ease right over his mouth.

"been waitin' all day to do this, baby," he breathes, hastily lowering your core closer and closer to his awaiting mouth.

"but caleb, i still have my—"

"keep them on, ill eat you out through them," he murmurs against the thin barrier, sticking his tongue out to lap at the spot of arousal as he sits you completely on him, licking and sucking at your heat through your panties.

you moan at the sensation of his tongue through the thin barrier, pleasure teetering between being not enough and a little too much as he licks and sucks at you as if he were starved.

it seems these panties in particular are doing something to him. you feel the way he's groaning against your core as his movements grow faster, tongue curling around where your entrance would be, ears red from the sounds and small begs you breathe out into the cool room.

when you notice his face going a little red, you lift yourself off of him just slightly, looking down at him concerned.

"caleb! are you okay?"

a displeased growl escapes his throat, his eyes stern as they meet yours, hands gripping your hips just a little bit harsher— you wince under the increased pressure.

"'m just fine, pipsqueak, but i can't promise you'll be if you get up again."

"but i—"

"i don't care if it looks like suffocating," he tugs at your hips, sly smirk curling up his lips.

"you know how much i hate when my mealtime gets interrupted."

with that, you're planted firmly back over his mouth, a moan ripped from your throat as he immediately gets back to work. you can't help the involuntary jerk of your hips against his mouth, seeking further friction in the pleasure with the barrier in place.

you're not sure how long has passed but you feel your core begin to tighten, your release steadily approaching.

"caleb, close," you pant, fingers tugging at his hair, practically riding his face at this point to increase the pressure enough to cum.

"yeah? gonna cum, baby?"

the thin fabric of your panties is practically soaked at this point, and caleb seems to be going a little crazier at the feel while at the same time, desperate to be tasting you properly.

with a single finger he moves the fabric to the side, slipping two long fingers into your leaking entrance as he laps at your folds. you throw your head back at the full sensation— no longer deterred from the barrier— moans increasing in volume as you continue riding his face.

his mouth is desperate as he slips his tongue in and out of you, curling his fingers just right and when he uses a thumb to play with your clit at the same time, it all feels like too much, and you tell him so, lifting your hips ever so slightly—

but caleb notices, and he's not happy.

his eyes rake up to your almost-gone expression, wondering if you've even realized what you did.

without saying anything, you feel yourself sit completely and firmly against caleb once again. when he begins the onslaught of pleasure once more, your body shaking from the sensations, you feel yourself being held down.

your eyes shoot to his narrowed ones, looking right back at you.

he's using his evol so you can't get away again.

you cry out, overwhelmed with pleasure and with a few more thrusts from his tongue and presses against your clit, you're coming all over his tongue and fingers, hips bucking against his face and satisfied hums and moans escaping your lips.

this is how it should be.

caleb keeps working his fingers inside of you, groaning and chest rumbling in satisfaction at the way your release spills into his mouth and down the bottom half of his face, welcoming the way your thighs squeeze around his head, letting you ride out your high against him.

he feels the way your body trembles above him, weak hands tugging at his short hair as he continue lapping at you, fingers still alternating their curling motions within you, albeit slower.

"too... m-much, too much caleb—"

he decides to be nice.

he slowly pulls his fingers from you, grabbing your hips steady and setting you down on his chest.

you watch each other catch your breaths, and take a look at the state the other is in.

caleb loves the dazed expression you're sporting, panting out into the air, looking absolutely spent already.

meanwhile, in the midst of your hazy high you're slowly coming down from, embarrassment begins to crawl up your system at the sight of caleb's messy hair and drenched face, no thanks to you.

you scoot back further, sitting on his abs as your hands lay flat against his pecks.

"sorry about—"

"nuh-uh, this is exactly what i wanted," he interrupts you, grinning in satisfaction.

"though..."

his voice trails off as his eyes drift down to your soaked panties.

"these," he hooks a finger through the twisted portion of it, "might be ruined."

you only laugh, sitting up on your knees. he watches you make quick work of taking them off before planting yourself back down on top of him. you lean forward, a little daringly, sly smile making its way onto your face as you rub your hands over his chest.

"those were new," you feign a pout, one hand curling into itself, index finger pointed out to drag your touch over his heart.

"you'll have to make it up to me," you lean back slightly, hands withdrawing to trail over the hem of your top.

caleb's eyes are glued to you.

"oh, do i, now?"

"yeah," you meet his teasing yet curious gaze, lifting your shirt over your head and tossing it carelessly on the floor, leaning forward again, hands flat on the pilot's chest.

you tilt your head innocently.

"how will you do it?"

in a swift motion, he grips your hips again, lifting you back up , holding you just before his lips.

"sit back down and you'll find out, princess."

-

a/n: would he be in to this? i cant tell ,but i can see it

-

[ddarker-dreams]

Hugging Preferences.

Chrollo is a deeply possessive man. His destitute upbringing taught him that anything valuable would be eyed, coveted, and potentially stolen. While he doesn’t view you as an object, suppressing this belief system doesn’t come naturally. You’ll notice his demeanor is softer in private but more handsy in public. Specifically, he likes pulling you into a side hug. This amorous display makes it clear to everyone that you’re unavailable. Depending on the situation, it isn’t always a full-blown hug; he’s content with having his hand on your waist when walking together. This serves the additional purpose of granting him peace of mind. It’ll be easier to move you out of harm’s way should his many enemies ever strike. 

Satoru couldn’t be normal about you if he tried. If you’ve been separated for any length of time, the instant he lays eyes on you, you’re getting scooped up and spun around. You’re held hostage until his demands are met (the ransom ranging from kisses to mushy declarations of your undying love). And yes, he will do this in front of others. Little Megumi once started walking himself home after witnessing Satoru’s flagrant disregard for public decency. Theatrical as his actions may come across, there’s a real sense of relief on his part. He doesn’t have to be the strongest, the pride of the Gojo clan, or anything else around you. You’re truly the closest thing to heaven on earth. 

Despite his vehement denial, physical affection flusters Scaramouche. He isn’t used to it. Being around you makes him feel all weird and warm, like his cognition’s malfunctioning. This doesn’t mean he’s opposed to your touch, but it’s a struggle. Insecurities and doubts plague him. Attachment is a frightening thing, especially after the abandonment he’s experienced. He’s most honest with his desires when asleep. He reaches out subconsciously, his countenance contorting in displeasure until you’re securely in his grasp. Scaramouche clings to you throughout the night. Come morning, mortification settles in. You’re quite literally caged in his embrace. He’ll rapidly shoot out excuses, his face red as a cherry, failing to realize he still hasn’t released you. This doesn’t help strengthen his arguments. 

Blade is more touchy-feely than one might expect. He’d gone so long without positive emotions, but that changed with your debut into his life. If you’re both in the same area, there’s a 90% chance he’s fighting the urge to just… squeeze you. It’s akin to cute aggression. You enter his line of sight and his dopamine skyrockets. The first few times this happened, he mistook the rush for an onset of mara, it’s that intense. There’s little indication of this inner battle from his body language — he appears as apathetic as ever. When you turn your back to him though, he pounces, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your head. Good luck getting anything done because he’s here to stay. 

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au

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

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.”

[tgirltorment]

The trick about devils is that the high-ranking ones are often less concerned with inspiring sin and perversion within mortals as they are satisfying their own. You believed that by identifying the right patron and giving them what they want, you could make a deal with no clever loophole or catch. Make an offer, follow through, and come back unchanged and unharmed. Easy. And you knew just the devil to chose: a Devil Lord of Lust, one of the most self-serving of sins. Pride is too unstable, sloth might never hold up their end, gluttony is insatiable, but a Devil Lord of Lust? That you could handle.

You summoned them one evening to your apartment, offering your demands with clarity. "Beauty and power," was all you asked for. "In return, I offer to enter your service for six months." He chuckled lightly, eyeing you up and down. "One year," he countered. "And I promise you'll not be hurt. Not in a way you don't enjoy, at least." You shook hands, and the deal was struck. You were given a day to get everything in order, pay any outstanding bills, notify your family that you'd be away, and went to sleep. The next time you awoke, it was in a cage.

You noticed right away that your clothes were gone. Every so often a demon would pass by, leering at you through the bars. You also noticed that your were very, very, very horny. At first, you tried to cover yourself up, hide from the observing demons. But a heat began to build in your chest. You ached to touch yourself, to cum. You tried to resist. "Not in while they watch," you tried to think, but it was fuzzy. Strained. You noticed that the demons were naked too. Were they always naked? Looking them only made you hornier, so you tried to look away, but the image of their cocks was buried in your mind. Without thinking, you began to touch yourself, and by the time you noticed, it felt so good that you didn't care.

Against your will, small whimpers escaped your mouth. It felt so fucking good. The noises you made riled up the demons, spurring them to get off too. Cum shot through your bars, covering you, making you feel so warm. Why couldn't you cum? You were so close, so fucking close, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get over the edge. You began to beg. "Please," you whined. "Please let me cum."

Eventually, your hands became too tired to continue and fell to your sides. You lay at the floor of your cage, covered in the cum of a dozen demons, unable to orgasm but so desperate. You didn't care anymore. You needed it. So you pushed yourself against the bars and let them fuck you, their cocks taking turns inside you, filling you with more and more cum. Cocks appeared in front of you too, right before your face, and, without thinking, you began to suck them. God, it was so hard to think with their cocks so deep inside you. But you still couldn't cum.

Eventually, they all had their fill and left you, broken and desperate and unsatisfied, squirming on the floor of your cage in a pool of cum, which you brainlessly began to lap up. Soon enough, a familiar form appeared and opened your cage. You crawled out and immediately offered your throat to the Devil Lord, too dazed to even beg. "My sweet pet," he purred, grabbing your horns. Did you always have horns? "You've been so good. I believe you deserve to cum now." You whimpered in excitement, you tail (tail?) flicking behind you. He led you to a throne where he sat down, stroking his cock. "Have a seat," he said. So you rode him, pushing his cock as deep into you as it would go, screaming as you came again and again, unable to stop bouncing. Your back arched and your wings flared as wave after wave of euphoria ran through you, the sweet release you'd been desperate for for so long.

One year would not be enough. Not nearly.

[soaps-mohawk]

Good Boy

Summary: He’s been such a good puppy. You want nothing more than to reward him on his special day. 

Pairing: Johnny x reader

Word Count: 5,527 words

Warnings: Pet play, mommy kink, puppy!Soap, sex toys, breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking (it’s like one), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, lingerie, 

A/N: This is the first kinktober fic I wrote for this year, but I ultimately decided not to do a version for Kyle. It just fits Johnny perfectly and I’m honestly proud of it. Posted it on Patreon back in early October but decided to post it here for everyone to enjoy

MASTERLIST

You can hear the slight rattle of the kennel before you even have the front door closed. You take your time, kicking off your heels, placing your keys in the drawer, going to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Quiet, pathetic whining reaches your ears, the quiet scuff of movement on the plastic crate pan. He must have bunched his bed up again. 

Silly dog. 

You flip through the mail casually, tossing junk in the recycling and setting aside what you can only assume is a birthday card from your parents. The whining gets louder and more consistent. You let out a quiet sigh, tempted to open the card now and make him wait, but you'll be a good owner and give him the attention he's so desperate for. 

Poor thing has been locked up all day. 

Your feet pad quietly towards the living room, dress pants dragging quietly on the wood. You'll have to get these dry cleaned later. The whining gets louder as you approach, the metal exterior of the kennel rattling as he moves around in anticipation. 

You round the corner, pausing in the archway separating the living room from the hallway. Your dog, your sweet boy, is kneeling in his kennel, pressed up against the door in excitement. Tufts of hair stick through the top as he waits for you to scratch him through the bars like you always do. You can imagine his tail wagging happily, if he had one. 

“Did you miss me?” You ask, not moving towards the kennel. 

“Yes, mommy.” He whines, pressing harder against the cage, so hard his skin begins to push out between the gaps in the metal. 

You let out a sigh, finally approaching. “Stop it. You'll leave marks on your skin. You know mommy hates that.”

He lets out a whine, but does as he's told, moving away from the side of the cage, but he keeps his head pressed against the top. 

“Good boy.” You praise him, bending down to scratch his head through the bars. 

His hair is soft between your fingers. He'd had a mohawk when you picked him out and brought him home. You let him keep it, finding it endearing. It gives him character. Fits him perfectly. 

“Were you a good boy today?” You ask, pulling your hand away, bending down further, placing your hands on your knees. Your breasts push up, visible thanks to the few buttons you'd undone on your work shirt as you drove home from your after work errands. There's even a sliver of your bra showing. Blue, his favorite color. 

His eyes are trained on your breasts, licking his lips. His whole body is wiggling excitedly, his cock swinging between his legs, back and forth almost like a tail might. He's distracted, drool starting to drip out of his mouth just from the sight of your cleavage. 

To be fair, you had been denying him all week in preparation for today. 

You reach through the top of the cage again, fingers gripping his hair and tugging until his head is forced against the top of the kennel. “Mommy asked you a question.”

He lets out a pathetic whine, thick fingers curling between the thin metal bars at the top of the kennel. “Sorry mommy.” He pouts, giving you puppy eyes as he apologizes. You can't help but soften as those big blue eyes begin to glisten with tears. “I was the best boy today.” 

You hum, releasing his hair. You scratch his scalp as you eye the bed pushed against the back of the crate. “You messed your bed up.” His water and snack bowls are empty, shoved to the back of the crate with his bed. 

“Too excited.” He whines. 

You hum again, standing up straight. His eyes follow you, head shifting against the top of the cage. “Is my little pup excited about today?”

He nods, his fingers flexing on the metal bars. “Yes, mommy.”

“I got you a surprise.” You say, turning to the side table across from his kennel, digging the key from the drawer. “To celebrate.” 

“What is it?” He asks, getting excited again. 

“Well, that wouldn't make it much of a surprise, would it?” You tease, turning back to the kennel. 

He lets out an eager whine, leaning against the front of the cage. 

“Do you need to go potty?” You ask, bending down in front of the cage again. 

“Please mommy. Real bad.” He begs. 

You do feel bad. He has been locked up all day, and you had taken the time to run some errands after work. You've tried letting him have free reign of the house. It lasted a day. You'd come home from work to find him desperately humping your pillow, a pair of dirty panties he'd pulled from your laundry basket pressed against his nose. He'd made quite a mess, and so you had to go back to putting him in the crate every time you left. 

“Can you be a big boy and use the bathroom, or do we need to go outside?” You ask.

He whines as he thinks for a moment. “Bathroom, please.”

You hum, putting the key in the padlock that keeps him from opening the cage. It's more to keep him from escaping to romp around the house and make another mess. He wouldn't leave the house, though. He has no reason to. He can get out in the case of an emergency, but he's a good boy. He does as he's told...most of the time. 

You open the door to the crate, letting him crawl out. You turn the TV off as he takes a moment to stretch, joints creaking from being shut in the confined space. It's no small crate, the biggest you could find. Still, it doesn't leave him much room for moving around. 

You'll have to book him a massage this weekend. Get those muscles loosened up again. 

“Come on, pup.” You say, nudging him with your foot in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. “Let's go potty.”

He crawls on all fours towards the bathroom, slow going after being cooped up all day. You don't rush him, walking slowly behind him. The tags on his collar clink with every waddling shuffle on his hands and knees. 

He crawls into the bathroom and you turn on the light. He shifts up onto his knees, using the edge of the sink to pull himself onto his feet. You watch him as he stands, joints cracking again. He stretches, arms up over his head, the muscles in his back moving as he does. 

Sometimes you forget just how big he is. 

It's easy when he's crawling around on all fours to make him small in your mind. It's not until he's standing that you remember just how broad he is. 

5'11, roughly 200 pounds. That's what his profile said when you were searching for a new puppy. Your previous one had decided to leave, a mutual agreement. He had only been in training, and decided the lifestyle wasn't for him after all. 

You don't mind training pups. It can be quite fun, but you were ready for a more experienced puppy after him. 

That's when you came across Johnny. Soap, as his profile had said. A nickname given by a previous owner. You can only imagine what he'd done that earned him that nickname. 

His bio was thorough, and he'd even provided the reference of his previous owner. You were intrigued so you had messaged him, and agreed to meet. 

You liked him immediately. 

Friendly, excitable, already eager to please during your first conversation. You're sure he'd have gotten down on all fours and crawled across the coffee shop if you'd asked him to. 

His separation with his last owner had been rather traumatic and he needed someone to take control, someone who could handle him, his neediness, his clinginess, his intense libido and stamina. 

It had only taken three meetings and a test run for him to move into your house. 

He learned quickly, adapting to your rules very fast. It had been a pleasant surprise, finding such an eager pup in a Scottish bloke who looked more like he should be tossing logs at the Highland Games and not crawling around on your floor with a collar around his neck.

Your last pup had been more of a Greyhound, while Johnny, he’s more of a Rottweiler. Large and intimidating, but sweet and cuddly and so eager to please. 

Johnny lets out a sigh as he finally gets to relieve himself after a long day. You stand, leaning in the doorway, watching him as he shakes and then grabs toilet paper to wipe his tip. A proud smile tugs at your lips as he washes his hands thoroughly with soap and hot water. 

“Good boy.” You praise him as he drops back onto all fours. You run your fingers through his mohawk, letting the soft strands slip through your fingers. It’s getting long, you’ll have to trim it soon. “Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

He crawls behind you into the kitchen, watching as you move to the bag on the counter. He crawls closer, sitting back on his knees, watching you eagerly. You rip the tags off the toy in your hands, before turning to face him. 

“I got you an extra special toy for your birthday.” You hold out the stuffed squirrel to him. 

His eyes widen as he stares at it, sitting back fully on his knees as he reaches for it. It’s soft and fluffy and squeaks when you squeeze the middle. You’d spent almost half an hour at the pet store debating which you should get. You’d spent so long there a worker had approached, asking if you needed help and what kind of dog the toy was for. 

Great Dane, you’d told her, your go-to answer when buying things for your pup. 

She’d recommended the squirrel, and you could hardly say no. It was perfect, and judging by the way Johnny is clutching it to his chest, he thinks so too. 

“I also got you a meat stick.” You say, pulling the long beef stick from the grocery bag. “So you can have something to chew on.” You say, pulling off the wrapper. 

“Thank you, mommy.” He says, taking the beef stick between his teeth. 

You watch him crawl to the corner of the dining room where his bed sits. He makes himself comfortable, stretched out on the soft, plush bed, his new squirrel tucked under his arm as he chews on his meat stick. 

You jump into making one of his favorite dinners while he’s occupied. While you’ve never been quite brave enough to try your hand at haggis, Johnny never complains about scotch pies. You turn on some quiet music while you work, eyes flickering to Johnny every so often. He’s content in the corner, making quick work of the meat stick. 

You take your time cooking, Johnny lazing with his squirrel in his arms. You stare at his cock as you mix ingredients, more thick than it is long as it drapes between his legs. There’s a heat growing between your own legs as you stare at him. He’s spread out on the bed, legs stretching straight out after being cooped up in the kennel all day. You make a quick note on the calendar. He needs a spa day this weekend. So will you after tonight. 

You jump as a hand grips your leg, weight settling against you. Johnny is leaning against your hip, big hand wrapped around your thigh. It’s slowly creeping higher, as if you wouldn’t notice it snaking up your inner thigh. 

You tsk at him, shifting out of his hold. “That’s not good boy behavior.” 

He lets out a whine, trying to move closer to you. “Sorry mommy. Need you bad.” 

“You need your strength, baby boy. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” You run your hand over his head. You do leave him plenty of snacks to tide him over on days you have to go into the office. It’s always a big dinner night on those days to make up for his lack of lunch. 

He lets out a disappointed whine but he knows your right. He’s always a good boy, always so eager to please you and behave. He crawls back to his bed, cock swinging between his legs. Your teeth sink into your lip as you watch him go, rubbing your thighs together as you shift on your feet. It’s going to be a long evening for you too. 

You plate up dinner for him, gently easing him back into his human brain for the moment as you remove his collar. Usually you make him eat on the floor out of his bowl, but this is a special occasion. You grab the card from the counter as you carry the plates to the table. 

“Smells good.” He says, his voice lower and rougher than it is when he’s in his puppy mindset. His accent is thicker too, almost like he becomes an entirely new person. Well...he does. The whiny, needy puppy is gone, hidden well beneath the surface of a normal human man. 

“My parents sent a card.” You say, sliding it across the table to him as you take a seat. 

“That was nice of them.” He says, picking it up and opening it. 

He reads it to you, full of well wishes and congratulations. Your parents have met him a few times, though they only know him as your boyfriend. They’ll never know about the other side of your relationship, the side where your giant Scottish boyfriend crawls around on all fours wearing a collar and occasionally a butt plug with a silicone tail attached. 

To your parents he’s just a normal man. To you, he’s your good little puppy. 

The two of you chat as you eat, talking about work and your coworkers and the annoying woman at the shop that was arguing with the cashier. It’s all so domestic, all so...normal. 

You almost prefer him on the floor on his knees begging for scraps. 

He sneaks up behind you while you’re doing dishes, his arms wrapping around you. You can feel the bulge of his quickly hardening cock against your ass, his hands sliding up your stomach towards your breasts. 

“This isn’t good boy behavior.” You say, but you don’t stop him as his hands cup your breasts through your shirt. 

You’ve fucked a few times like this, both of you in your normal mindsets. You let him be more dominant, let him get that energy out before he submits to you again. He’s a good fuck, knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how to work you up. 

“You’re going to ruin your surprise.” You say, yet you can’t stop yourself from pushing back against him as his thumbs brush over your nipples through your shirt. The skimpy bra you’re wearing doesn’t offer much coverage or protection from his fingers. 

“Sorry mommy.” He growls in your ear, grinding against your ass. 

The deep growl in his voice has a shiver running down your spine. You should stop this before it gets much further, but part of you is tempted to let him have this moment, let him celebrate his birthday in both mindsets. 

“Easy, puppy boy.” You say, pushing his hands away from your breasts. You turn around, dragging a wet finger over his lips. “Be a good boy and behave yourself and you can have your surprise after I’m done.” 

The change happens instantly, his eyes lighting up as he shifts back into his puppy mindset. He drops to his knees in front of you, eye to eye with your pussy but he behaves himself, holding still as you move to grab his collar. You stare down at the fabric one with the plastic clip, the one he wears while you’re gone in case he needs to get out of it fast. You want his leather one tonight. 

You clip the collar around his neck for now before going back to the dishes. He crawls back to his bed, laying himself down on his stomach. You watch him carefully out of the corner of your eye to make sure he’s not rutting against the bed like a bad dog. 

Dishes go by quickly as you set them in the drying rack, catching movement out of the corner of your eye. Unsurprisingly Johnny is in the corner, humping his bed, trying to relieve some of the ache that probably has his cock pulsing. You let out a sigh before approaching, bringing your hand down against his ass, the perky cheek bouncing. He lets out a yowl, his hips bucking into the bed. 

“You’re being a bad boy.” You say as he turns around, cock weeping with precum. There’s a damp spot on the fabric of his bed, but you know he hasn’t cum. Not yet. He knows better. 

“Sorry Mommy.” He pouts, but he can’t cute his way out of this one. 

You slip your fingers under the front of his collar, tugging him forward gently. “Bad boys get punished.” 

He lets out a whine, trying to give you big puppy eyes but they don’t work. You’ve long grown immune to that stare. 

“Come on.” You say, moving to the drawer to pull out a leash. He crawls towards you, sitting back on his knees to allow you to clip the leash onto his collar. He is a good boy, he just can’t control himself sometimes. 

Not with his insane libido. 

You walk him to the stairs, taking them slow as you lead him up to the second floor. He picks up his pace on the carpet, following you eagerly into the bedroom. He dutifully sits on his knees next to the bed, watching you as you unclip his collar. You pull the leather one from the drawer, the one you made specially for him, the one with his name stamped on the side. 

Johnny. 

He tilts his head back as you put it on him, slipping two fingers under to make sure it’s not too tight. You turn back to the drawer, pulling out the box. He shifts on his knees, already knowing what’s coming. 

“Bend over.” You say, pulling out the lube. He shifts himself onto the bed immediately, bending himself over the side. You squirt some lube over his ass, letting it run down over his hole. “Get yourself ready.” 

“Yes mommy.” He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches a hand back, gathering lube on his finger before pressing it into his hole. He groans, pushing his face against the bed as he works his finger in, opening himself up. You watch him fuck himself with his finger, adding a second one to open himself up. The plug isn’t huge, but you want him to be prepared. 

You spread lube on the plug before you pat his ass gently and he pulls his fingers from his hole. You squirt more lube over his hole before you press the tip of the plug against his ass. He clenches as you begin to push it in, a whiny moan leaving his lips. He’s staining the comforter with precum, but that’s what washing machines are for. 

It won’t be the only stain on the bed by the time you’re done with him. 

You slide the plug into place, the silicone tail perky in the air. He wiggles his hips, the tail wagging back and forth. 

You hum, pleased by the sight. “My cute little puppy.” You praise him before grabbing the fluffy ears from the box. You’ve always preferred them over the more traditional mask. You want to see his cute face as you make him beg to cum. 

He slides off the edge of the bed, sitting back on his knees. A breathy moan leaves his lips as the plug shifts inside him, the tail moving as he clenches around it. His cock is bright red and hard, and you’re sure you could see it pulsing with need if you looked close enough. You put the ears on him, stepping back to stare at him. 

What a beautiful sight he makes. 

“You were a bad boy.” You say as you close the box, moving it off the bed. “Humping your bed like a needy little pup.” 

“Am a needy pup.” He whines, hips bucking the air in desperation. 

“Naughty pups deserve punishment.” You ignore his words, moving to stand in front of him at the end of the bed. “You only get to watch.” 

His eyes widen as you begin to unbutton your shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. Your nipples pebble in the cool air as you untuck your shirt, undoing the last buttons before slipping it off your shoulders. You toss it on the floor before undoing your pants, sliding them down your legs. He lets out a whine as your lacy panties are revealed, blue just like your bra. He shifts on his knees again as you sit yourself on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs. 

The lace is damp from your arousal, darkening the fabric. He licks his lips as you rub your damp slit over the lace. He loves lace, the sight of it enough to make his cock leak. He can cum untouched like a needy teenager if you get him worked up enough. You're tempted to do it, make him cum all over himself before he gets to touch you. 

That feels like too much of a reward. 

“You don't cum until mommy does.” You command, moving the lace to the side to drag a finger through your slit. 

He licks his lips, watching your shiny juices smear all over your skin as you rub your hand over your pussy. He’s enraptured, forgetting himself as he stares at your fingers and the way you spread yourself open for him to see. You’re doing it on purpose, goading him and distracting him to make him forget himself. All the more sweet torture for him. 

You stop your hand, covering your pussy from his sight. “I gave you an order.” You say, your voice stern. 

“Yes, mommy.” He stutters out, eyes still glued between your legs. “Don’t cum until ye do.” 

“Good boy.” You praise him, opening your legs wider. 

You circle your clit with a finger as you stare at him, those big blue eyes locked in on your hand between your legs. He’s picturing himself doing it, his fingers dragging through your folds, smearing your slick everywhere. You can tell by the way his fingers twitch where they rest on his thighs. He wants to taste you so badly he might start drooling soon. 

You won’t let him have it yet, sliding your hand down to press a finger into your pussy. You moan softly as you work your finger in, knowing you’ll need to prepare yourself regardless to take his thick cock. You can take it without preparation, but he’s far too eager to be gentle tonight, to take his time. 

You slip a second finger into your pussy, your head falling back as you fuck yourself with your fingers. Johnny shifts on his knees, hands curling into fists where they rest on his thighs. The wet sound fills the air as you thrust your fingers in and out, toes curling. You’ve been waiting for this as much as he has, your pussy throbbing for the last hour now. Still you pull your fingers from your pussy before you can cum, resting them against your inner thigh, spreading juices on your skin. Johnny is drooling now, his chin wet as his mouth hangs open just slightly. You can’t help but chuckle as you stare at him. 

Needy thing. 

You push yourself back up, staring at his cock for a moment. It looks painful, the nice side of you wanting to take pity on him, have mercy. This night is about him after all. It is his birthday. 

“Come here and make me cum.” You say, holding the lace out of the way. 

He doesn't hesitate as he crawls forward, immediately pressing his face against your folds. His tongue darts out, licking at your damp lips like the eager pup he is. He flicks his tongue over your clit, your stomach clenching at the warm sensation. He holds your gaze as he licks and sucks at your clit, slurping sloppily at the sensitive numb. Your lips are parted as you pant and moan, your hand lifting to grip his mohawk, pressing him harder against your pussy. He doesn’t complain, slick wetting his skin as he suckles at your clit, the sensations almost too much. 

“Gonna cum...” You moan. “Make mommy cum!”

He sucks harder at your clit, flicking it with his tongue over and over. You cum quickly, thighs squeezing around his head. Your hips grind against his face, your hand tightening in his mohawk, holding him in place. 

“Fuck....” You moan, his tongue still working at your clit, pushing you towards overstimulation. 

You have to tug him away from your pussy, your body shaking from the near overstimulation. His face is shiny, his mouth still parted as he stares up at you. You press your fingers against his tongue, his lips closing around them, licking the remnants of your juices off them. 

“Stand up.” You say, pulling your fingers free. 

He does as he’s told, standing over you. His cock is right in front of you, hard and throbbing. You spit on your hand before you wrap your fingers around him, smearing your spit all over his length. He groans, his hips thrusting as you begin to move your hand, jerking him off. 

“Gonna cum for mommy?” You ask, precum dripping around his foreskin. 

“Gonnae cum.” He moans, hips thrusting in time with your hand. “Don’t stop, please!” 

You don’t have any plans to, picking up the pace of your hand as you stare up at him. His cum is hot as it splatters against your chest, painting your skin as he moans low and deep. You pump him through his orgasm, milking every last drop out of him. He’s nowhere near done for the night, cock still hard in your hand. 

You release him, leaning back on the bed again. “You made quite the mess, pup. Clean it up.” 

He drops to his knees in front of you, leaning forward over you. His arms wrap around you as he begins to lick his cum from your skin. His tongue is warm as it trails over your skin, lapping at the streaks of cum across your chest, making sure to get every last drop of it. He follows the trail of it down to your stomach, stopping to suck at one of your nipples through the lace. You let him do it, moaning softly at the sensation. He trails his lips down your body to your thighs, licking up his cum as he goes. 

He tries to push your thighs apart but you tsk at him, nudging him gently with your foot. “I’ve got something better for you.” You sit up straight on the edge of the bed, putting you nearly face to face with him. You grip him by the collar, pulling him up so you can stare into his eyes, your breath mixing with his. “I want you to breed me.” 

“What?” He breathes, the puppy brain slipping just for a moment. 

He goes still, his eyes widening. He searches your face for a moment, looking for any sign of hesitation or even a sign of mirth as you tell him you’re joking. You’re not. You rarely let him cum inside you, usually making him finish on your stomach before making him clean you up. He likes it too much, stuffing you full of his cum. You usually save it for special occasions like this one. 

You pull away as you shift on the bed, kneeling on the edge before bending down, arching your back to push your ass into his face. “You heard me. Be a good boy and breed me.” 

“Screaming Jesus.” He curses before rising to his feet, his hand falling to your hip. 

He slips his cock under your panties, thrusting it through the lace and your damp folds for a moment. You moan softly as his head catches on your clit, your hips pushing back against him. You've been thinking about this all day. It had been a rough day at work as your mind was only filled with thoughts of his cock inside of you. The temptation to slip into the bathroom and rub one out had been strong, but you didn't want to make things harder for you or him. 

You arch your back more as he pulls his cock back, pressing his tip against your hole. The comforter bunches as your hands sink into the fabric, holding on for dear life as his thick cock presses into you. You moan as he stretches you, rocking his hips to sink deeper and deeper. The stretch is always delicious, his cock like a bonus reward for choosing him as your puppy. Not just that, he knows how to use it. 

He folds himself over your back as soon as he’s seated inside you, beginning to rut his hips against your ass. His hands come to rest by your head, pushing himself deeper inside of you. 

“Fuck...that’s it puppy.” You moan, squeezing around him as he continues to rut into you like an eager pup. 

He is an eager pup. 

Your hands grip his wrists for support as his cock drags against that spot inside of you with every movement of his hips. He picks up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You’re the one almost drooling now as he rocks your body with his thrusts. He shifts, his knees coming to rest beside yours on the bed, pushing himself deeper into you. 

“God, fucking yes!” You moan, squeezing around his cock. 

He’s close, grunting in your ear as he ruts against you. You can picture his tail flopping back and forth, wagging excitedly as he finally fucks you after weeks of denying him your pussy. 

“Mommy. Mommy.” He moans desperately. “Please, can I cum? Please let me cum.” 

“Cum for me puppy.” You moan as his thrusts become sloppy and desperate. “Be a good boy and cum in me.” 

His cum is warm as it spurts into you, his hips jerking before stilling as he spills into you with a whine. His cock is twitching inside of you, spilling the last of his cum before he pulls out. He moves off of your back, gripping your waist before he flips you over onto your back. You can’t find it in you to reprimand him for manhandling you, one of the rare moments he’ll take control while still in his puppy brain. 

“Gonnae breed ye mommy.” He grunts, slotting his body between your thighs. You haven’t cum yet and he knows that. “Gonnae fill ye right up till ye burst.” 

Fuck. 

You can’t do anything but moan as he shoves your panties to the side again, thrusting right into you before very much of his cum slips out of you. He fucks it back into you, his pace fast and hard. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down against you. You can see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth from the force of his thrusts, your legs shaking as you grip his collar. 

“Such a good boy.” You moan, thighs squeezing around his hips. “Such a good puppy for mommy.” 

“‘M yer good boy.” He moans, pressing his face into your neck. “Good puppy for mommy.” 

“Gonna make me cum?” You whine, getting closer and closer to the edge with every slap of his hips against your clit. He’s close again, whining as you squeeze around him. 

“Please,” He whines, his pace stuttering. “Please cum mommy.” 

You can hardly deny him as your back arches, body shaking as you cum around him. Your limbs coil around him like a snake, holding him in you as your fluttering walls force another orgasm from him. He spills into you again, spurting more cum into your pussy. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to pet his damp mohawk. He’s shaking over you, tail vibrating in the air. The night is far from over, his cock already growing hard inside of you again. 

You’re going to call in the morning and book those spa days. 

You continue to pet his hair as he grinds against you, humping you like a needy puppy. You press your face against the side of his, lips brushing his ear as you pant against his sweaty skin. 

“Good boy.” 

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[whumptober]

Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt

We get a lot of questions about prompts, so I thought this might be a helpful post for how to break down a Whumptober prompt and get ideas.

Each day of Whumptober has 4 prompts: a theme trope, then three ideas. You can use any one, two, three, or all four in your work. Each day’s prompts loosely relate to each other but could also be taken individually. They can be interpreted as literally or figuratively as you want.

Let’s look at an example. I’m a writer, so I’m going to talk in terms of storywriting, but just remember that this challenge is open to all sorts of creative works, including art, gifsets, headcannons, crafts, or whatever else you can think of.

ICARUS

cage | “You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high” | crash landing

(Fiona Apple, Never is a Promise)

So the theme is Icarus, with additional prompts of a place, a song lyric, and a situation. Taken together, you could write a story of Icarus, who was caged with his father Daedelus, flew too close to the sun on the hope of freedom, and crashed fatally to earth. But you could also look at each prompt in isolation for ideas.

Icarus:

themes of hubris

themes of freedom from captivity

winged characters

a child trying to prove themselves to a parent figure and failing

Cage:

being literally caged

feeling figuratively caged

breaking free of something (literal or figurative)

themes of imprisonment and freedom or false freedom

“You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high”:

regret

promises made or broken

an accident and its aftermath

bitterness after betrayal

guilt after betrayal or accident

Crash landing:

literally falling from a height

being high (drugs, mania, medications, love, sugar) and crashing

plane/helicopter/airship/dragon/spaceship/winged creature crash

an angel falling to earth or hell

comet or meteor impact

This isn’t an exhaustive list, but just some brainstorming ideas I could come up with quickly. In a few of my fandoms, I could write about Bucky’s fall from the train and Steve’s guilt (MCU), Basch fon Ronsenburg’s fall from grace or languishing in a cage for treason (FFXII), Sephiroth summoning Meteor (FFVII), Chell being dragged back into Aperture after thinking she’s free (Portal), a dragonrider battle (ASOIAF/HoD), crashing into the Chionthar after victory (BG3), Geralt coming down after battle when the potions wear off (The Witcher). Any of these scenarios could be inspired by one or more of the four prompts for that day – my problem is always deciding which one I want to use!

“But Yenn,” you say, “what if I can’t think of anything for any parts of the prompt, or I don’t like the prompts, or they’re too much for me in some way?” No problem! We also have a list of 15 alternatives that can be substituted for any day (once per prompt). If you’re still stuck, you can always come on Discord and ask for brainstorming help. Everyone is super nice there, especially for a community of people that live to put blorbos in discomfort.

I hope this post helps give people ideas. We’re working hard to get everything together and should release the prompts in a couple of weeks! In the meantime, our 2024 playlist will be loading soon...

[lunarclawz]

— Sylus and Cats.

I wanted to explain a bit more about how cats and the nickname "kitten" are actually very important and related to his backstory.

First off, spoiler warning in case you haven't played his myth, and to also warn that a part of this will be a theory and speculation based on his myth, other cards and information we have gathered.

For starters, the first mention of cats In his myth, this was said by MC, but as we saw, he can almost know what she's thinking— it could also simply be a coincidence.

Just as how he does in the current timeline, she's is compared to an aggressive cat. She reminds him of one.

Second mention, it's obviously not stated if he saw her as a cat at that very moment, but perhaps this can sort of confirm it.

Here it is implied he brought the cat himself, this happened not long after he was released, this is my thoughts only but, maybe before he was locked on the Abyss, he might had past interactions with cats hence why he brought one to her or/and because he sees a resemblance between the two. Signalling that he can feel emotions— such as empathy.

Now we start to get a little bit more symbolic, we know that the Legion of Justitia it's made solely by orphans, they are locked away and trained to become dreamless, mindless creatures living only for the purpose of war, they cannot have any other beliefs than the ones given by the Sanctuary. If they do, it could lead to execution.

Sylus happens to mention that her soul is dull, she has no desires, or at least she suppresses them, no dreams or ambitions to follow, all because she was locked in a cage. She's imprisoned not only by the Oracle but by herself.

As she struggles to find a way out of his lair, he observes, watches her attempt with no success.

This cat very well represents MC past self, before meeting her dragon, waiting for him just as she did before her sentence. Talking to an obsidian figurine— one that ignited a fire inside of her to desire.

Almost as if it was fate, the burning figurine allowed her to break free, to meet the world beyond of those walls, something that cat was desperate for.

She hid herself, her dream of curiosity, her right to wonder. She mentions being held by threads, keeping her captive, a prisoner with a mind that cannot be suppressed.

But when she meets him, she meets the other side of the coin, the pinnacle of greed. Yet she sees it as something pure, only the twisted minds are the ones that manage to corrupt the beautiful concept of desire. The wish of something more than just monotony, the wish to see, know—explore the world that lays at her hand.

He opens her world, he frees the cat out of the cage and shows her how life is supposed to be.

She's no longer who she was, she's not a house cat, she's now a mountain cat, a cat that can roam freely. One that can wish for, and of course he will grant it. He gives her the stability she needs to explore the world for herself, he will set her free but he will always wait with a warm bed for her to return. Guarding her by the distance as she does what she pleases.

Maybe it's because he felt the same, forced to be locked away, a barrier standing within his human shape and dragon form, something he never wished for, isolating himself out of fright.

Yet he met her, consoling the fractured heart in his core, they always needed each other, to see beyond their limitations, to be set free.

He's constantly reminding her of how now she resembles a dragon, care free and beautiful. Breaking that fear.

The cat resembles her if she never met the dragon, it grew complacent. A enslaved cat, a house cat, a cat without its desire to roam. Never attempting to question the cage that locked it— perhaps didn't even see it anymore.

Current Timeline.

In some cards, we see mentioned that he takes care of stray cats, cats that roam freely and come back for his aid. Perhaps he likes this, he can't trap someone, he can't suppress their dreams, they must leave and discover by their own hand.

"Kitten" is an omen of the day he set her free.

[cevansbrat0007]

https://x.com/auxgod_/status/1854935706742706397?s=46

ari’s reaction if bird tried to walk out the house with this on 👀

Untitled Sweet Renegade Series Ask & Drabble

Please enjoy the Sweet Renegades Series Drabble found after the cut. Warnings include: Mature Themes, Implied Smut, Ari Being a Possessive Menace, Brat!Reader, Manhandling, Crude Language, and Cursing. Minors DNI.

Listen, Ari considers himself to be a rather progressive man. He has two sisters that he respects and adores. And a little niece that fills him with pride. He plans to teach his nephew about the importance of respecting women - of treating them with the utmost reverence and care.

However, the moment Ari laid eyes on his sweet, stubborn little Bird, it was if something in him snapped. It came from somewhere deep. Primal. And the beast in him demanded that he stake his claim. Before her, Ari had never really considered himself to be the possessive type. He just assumed that jealousy wasn't a part of his makeup.

But now? Her smile. Her laugh. Her light. Every delicate inch of her gorgeous curvy body. All of it belongs to him. In the most primal, feral sense.

And he does not like to share.

So, while he wants to encourage Bird as she continues down the path of consistent, healthy body positivity, he's also man enough to admit that that there's no way in hell he'd let her fine ass out of the house wearing a dress like that. And here's why:

"Baby..." He rasps, caging you in as he backs you against the door. "You look fucking stunning." Two thick fingers trail their way down your body, stopping once they reach the valley between your breasts. "But I'm afraid I can't let you leave. Not while you're wearin' that."

"What's wrong with it?" Your words come out as a gasp when you feel a hand wind its way into your curls, holding you still as he continues his assault. The seconds drag on as his head dips, his mouth finding yours.

"Because, sweet Bird." Ari presses, forcing you to take his delicious weight. Making your pulse spike as he grinds his increasingly hard cock against your abdomen.

"B-because?"

"Because..." He draws out the word as he wrenches your head back so that he can whisper maddening little love bites along the curve of your jaw. "This is the kinda dress you wear when you're out with your man." You have a hard time breathing as his free hand skims lower before coming to rest on the swell of your bottom.

"Oh yeah?" You continue to goad - against your better judgement.

To be honest, you'd known what you were risking when you saw the dress hanging on the rack. You had no business playing with fire. But that's part of what made all of this so fun.

"Absolutely." Ari's normally bright blue eyes darken with arousal as he watches your chest heave. Almost as if he's imagining what it might be like to slowly peel the garment off you, piece by piece. "Because these hips and that ass - they're enough to give a man ideas."

His soft lips find their way to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver.

"And when they start wantin' to entertain those ideas," he muses, more to himself than you. "I need to be there as your man to shut 'em down."

"I see." A sharp nip of teeth has you clenching your thighs together.

"Because I am the only man who's allowed to know what it's like to bury myself between those luscious thighs." Using two fingers, he tips up your chin, wordlessly demanding that he look you in the eyes. "And only I get to know what you taste like when you cum on my tongue. Which therefore makes me the only man with exclusive rights to your tight, little pussy."

"Okay Beast." You can't help the giggle that bubbles its way out of your throat. "I think you've made your point."

"Have I, little Bird?" He growls, releasing his grip on your chin to capture your wrists, trapping them above your head. "Or do I need to remind you that I'm not the sharing type?"

The steady tick in his jaw lets you know that you and your dress have once again pushed this man to the edge. But the real question was...

Just what did you plan to do about it?

Batting your lashes up at him, you decide it's time to let the brat in you win out once and for all. Go big or go home, you know?

"Eh, it's been awhile, big guy." You purr, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. "I'm thinkin' you might need to refresh my memory."

END

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[kimingyuslover]

Sweet Revenge (teaser)

Synopsis : You get into a fatal car incident, but later you wake up and find yourself back in the past. You vows to take revenge on your adopted family.

Word count : 446 for this teaser and estimated to be 6k for full fic (can be more or less).

Pairing : Choi Seungcheol x reader.

Genre : Romance, revenge drama, contract marriage & time traveler!au.

Warnings : (teaser) make-out session & (full fic) mean stepmother & stepsister, mentions of car crash and fire accident, CEO SEUNGCHEOL, make out session that leads to both individuals doing sex, smut? (let's see how am i feeling when i post this fic….), red leading to black flag ex, infidelity (not reader and seungcheol), sexual tension(?), lovey-dovey couple, sexy and delicious seungcheol 🫦🫦, simp!seungcheol, he fell first and they both fell harder.

Release date : est. 14th or 15th December (TAKE IT AS AN EARLY CHRISTMAS GIFT)

OUT NOW

A few weeks passed, and the rumors started flying in his company, too, and now Seungcheol is in a meeting with your ex.

“Do you realize she's just using you?" Se-hyuk says to his boss, his tone dripping with arrogance.

The audacity of his words makes Seungcheol blood pressure spike. After everything he’s done—treating you so cruelly and having an affair with your sister—he still refuses to let you go? What the hell is wrong with him?

“That’s none of your concern, Manager Yoon,” Seungcheol replied sharply. Then, with a calm yet pointed smile, the CEO added, “And for the record, I don’t care if she’s using me. I love her.”

Se-Hyuk glares hard at his boss.

Maybe he still loves you, and doesn't want you to go run your own life, because after all you both have been in a relationship for a decent time, 5 years to be exact and the moment before you ended everything is 3 months before your wedding.

He knew better than to press the issue further. Instead, he turned his attention to the proposal his team had submitted. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind wandered elsewhere.

……………………

"Aww, so you shut him out like that? You really love me, don't you?"

Seungcheol was used to your teasing by now, and he found it oddly satisfying to play along.

"Of course. You're my dear fiancée. How could I not love you with all my heart?" he replied, a smirk adorning his perfect features.

The two of you continued your playful banter late into the night. Eventually, you realized he had caged you beneath him on the sofa in the apartment he had bought for you both to share.

His intense gaze shifted between your eyes and lips before he slowly leaned in, his right hand cradling the side of your face. You responded with your lips brushing against his, a silent invitation.

When your lips met, Seungcheol kissed you like he was afraid of losing you, his touch tender yet passionate. You knew better, though. He loved it when your kisses turned wild— something you'd learned firsthand during your first kiss in a hotel room, a memory you cherished.

Your hands threaded through his black locks, pulling him closer as soft grunts and moans escaped your lips.

After what felt like ten minutes of an intense make-out session, He finally pulled back to give you both a chance to catch your breath.

Without hesitation, he asked, "Bedroom?"

You nodded in response.

Your relationship might not have started romantically, but deep down, something told you this could be the best thing that ever happened in your life.

[hanasnx]

“NO ONE HAS TO KNOW.” — satoru gojo.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: reference. for my mutual @dosiido. WARNINGS: infidelity | explicit sexual content | established relationship | p in v | fem reader | dom satoru | clit play | exhibitionism | light choking.

"Dunno what you're being so uptight about, s'not like he's around." SATORU GOJO reasons, advancing on you casually until you raise a hand to halt him. Instead, he surges, making sure your palm lays on his chest. It’s rigid, toned under your touch and your lips part at the sight just as his curl. You break from your trance with a shake of your head, backing up to turn on your heel.

“I don’t want to talk about this with you, Gojo, it’s not appropriate.” you hiss under your breath around your shoulder, as if stooping your head will keep your volume lower.

Easily, as if you’re nothing, his hand reaches out to clasp your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. You give it one yank, but it only serves to put a sting in your socket. He’s indomitable when he wants something done. “I don’t believe that.” he objects, his decibel unaltered, seemingly uninterested in whoever listens in. “You just don’t want to be seen with me. Not after what happened the last time.” He peers at you over his black sunglasses, a wolfish grin spreading onto his expression, cheeky and arrogant.

You stamp your foot, pressing your lips into a thin line when you huff through your nose. An unwilling concede is reached, so he releases you with an air of flair only his unserious self is capable of. With a quick scan of your surroundings, you check for anyone that might be eavesdropping before you decide you need a more private environment. Roughly, you escort him to a cleaning closet with your hand fisted in his clothes, opening the door for him to motion him inside. With a snicker, and a straighten of his jacket, he follows your direction, leisurely entering the dark closet. The door shuts louder than you meant it to, but you can’t stop your momentum, reaching behind you to turn the light on.

An accusing finger points to Gojo, seething through your teeth, “This is nothing like the last time, let me make that clear. What we did can’t happen again, and I don’t understand why you can’t get it through your thick skull—“

“Oh, will you just relax?” he coos, pulling a hand from his pocket to slither aside you, drawing him closer into your atmosphere as he casually shuts the light back off.

You’re interrupted, and you gasp in disbelief at him, promptly facing the switch to resume the light. Being tucked away into some dark corner with him is—at the very least—dangerous, considering your track record of total lack of self-control. “Satoru! This is serious.” you hiss, whirling around to him to find that he’s much closer than before. Inches away from you, towering over you, his smile is mesmerizing and his scent is fuzzying your brain.

“Why? You afraid of what you might do?” he goads, amused, like this is a game. He stoops to meet your eye level, his nose narrowly missing yours so your arch away. “C’mon, pretty, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it.” Those sultry words make you gulp, traveling a powerful shiver down your spine at the remembrance of what it felt like the last time. He’s much bigger than your boyfriend, in every sense of the word. Caged between his arm, body, and the tiny space of the closet you’ve trapped yourself in, the light shuts off again with a click, drowning the two of you in darkness once more. You can only hear your breaths. “You called me ‘Satoru.’” he remarks, but his tone has shifted. It’s quiet, and serious. An observation made not at your expense, but coolly and pleasantly surprised about hearing it again from your lips. Nimble fingers brush a lock of your hair behind your ear, tracing the shell of it and you flinch. You can feel his warm exhale against your nose, warning you of his proximity.

“That’s your name.” you reply in an attempt to steel yourself and break the tension you feel in your chest. You don’t want to leave, but you know you should. You have a boyfriend, you shouldn’t be alone in the dark with someone you’ve been unfaithful with before.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” he whispers, and you swear you felt the lightest brush of his lips against yours as he spoke. Ever since you two almost got caught, you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length, calling him formally to give everyone around you the idea that you and Satoru Gojo are not close, despite the rumors. It killed him.

“Last time…”

“This won’t be like last time.” he’s quick to assure you, but it betrays the sense he’s already decided what this meeting entails. You don’t trust him, but your desire outweighs it. Those hands find your hips, your skin on fire from his touch as he presses you into him to show you the physical manifestation of his yearning. Hard and outlined in his pants you gasp at the familiar feeling. "No one knows we're in here, no one has to know, we could be in and out." The innuendo is heavy, thick in the air as your cautious hands on his chest that previously kept him from going too far now relax.

It doesn't take long at all before you're back exactly where you don't wanna be—where you know it's stupid to stay. Every time you're alone with Satoru Gojo, he persuades you into situations that fit his best interests, proving that by plowing into you from behind, his strong hand tucked into the crook of your knee to lift your leg clear off the ground. You steady yourself on the shelving of the small closet, whimpering through your nose as he makes you fit his best interests. Long pale cock drives into you at a pace with a dangerous volume, and he doesn't seem to care about the grunts of pleasure that emit from his open mouth.

"Gojo... keep it down—!" you chide, your tits jumping from a sharp buck meant to chastise you.

"S'not my name." he growls, and you squeeze your eyes shut from the new pain of his tip slamming against your cervix. He grabs your waist, yanking you back as he lifts his forearm, sliding your knee into the crook of his elbow as he raises you to your toes, using the leverage of gravity to slam you down onto his cock hard. A choked sound of discomfort escapes your throat, as well as the snapping of skin on skin as your ass ripples from each contact. "Say it right." he tells you, and there's a level of upset to his winded tone, husky from his efforts yet hurt.

"S..." you begin, exhaling as you throw your head back. The new angle as your pussy squealing obscenely, slick coating your inner thighs as a cock other than your boyfriend's ravages your insides. "Satoru..." you manage. Against your expectations, he doesn't let up in pace, but makes up for it by dropping your leg, hooking his arm around your shoulders instead to press your back to his chest. It's uncharacteristically intimate, his breath on your cheek as your neck is nestled comfortably between his forearm and bicep.

"Who makes you feel this good, 'uh?" The lack of ventilation in this closet makes the air hot and skin tacky, sticking together as he talks shit in your ear.

"Satoru... Satoru does..." you confess through sounds of strain, and when you hear talking on the other side of the door your hands reach back to claw at the bones in his hip. Anything to signal to him to let up, quiet down, or stop so you're not discovered.

He snickers. A mean spirited sound as he holds you close to him. His hand creeps between your legs. "You afraid of getting caught again? You know it makes you close up?" he muses as his middle finger follows the divot in your vulva, sliding through the crest of your slit. "Too tight, let me fix that." The pad of that finger kisses your clit and you gasp, but he's quick to cover your mouth with his bicep, wrapping his arm around your head. "What if I made you cum right here? Would that be so bad...?" he thinks out loud while you have no room to object, eyes fluttering as two fingers roll over your clit, creating a sensation you sorely needed. The coil in your stomach tightens while your hole loosen and accommodates his formidable size. "You think it's your boytoy? Come to look for you? You think he'd even recognize the sound of his girl's moan when she cums? Dunno, sweet thing, if he were so good at it you wouldn't have come lookin' for me."

[cinhomi]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Han Jisung x fem reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: hard dom Jisung, angry sex (oopsie), unprotected sex (boo), slapping/spanking, a bit of manhandling??

a little something to excuse myself for the long wait. wrote it on the bus on my way home, might include some of these lines on my rockstar Ji fic

thinking about Jisung and his long wavy brown hair dripping with his sweat while he pounds into you. his necklace shining under the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand, cross pendant swinging back and forth in the air colliding with his chest, you being hypnotized by it.

his lips are parted, voice usually silvery being now low and rough as he throws his head back, hair sticking to his forehead. he's been fucking you for hours and he doesn't seem to get tired. his grip on you is bruising, you're all sticky and dirty and honestly kind of mentally gone because of the past three orgasms. thinking about how his hard, pretty cock leaks inside you and it fills, it just fills all of you and you're so in love with the feeling that when he pulls out to edge himself you can't help but whine and plea him to just put it in again and sputter incoherent praises and declarations of love.

"shut the fuck up."

thinking about Jisung sliding his sensitive red tip between your puffy cunt after all his slapping and sucking, your slick making him slip left and right while he winches at the friction. your hands are now trying to grasp his snatched waist, broad muscular shoulders too far from your desperate hold. he cups your breasts and queezes them, smooth skin overflowing between his fingers that makes his eyes roll upwards. he goes all the way in once again in only one motion taking your breath away, slight stinging sensation deep inside you where he hits you faster, faster, faster. he fucks into you like he does with his fleshlight, holding you up by your hips and maneuvring you to his liking, making you meet his thrusts.

"am I fucking cute now? huh?" he asks you between sharp thrusts, a veiny hand that was previously on his guitar now pinching your clit harshly, "wanna squish my cheeks? wanna boop my nose and tell me 'm good? fucking tell me then." his condescending tone making you flustered, heat spreading on your face and limbs trembling because of shame. you shouldn't have said those things to tease him, but you really didn't know he could be something other than adorable during sex.

thinking about how he slaps the side of your thigh before circling your sensitive bundle of nerves again, waiting for you to follow his request... or maybe his order. you clench hard around him.

"s-so good Ji, feels good!" and he smirks, but he doesn't seem satisfied yet. another spank is set a bit lower, near your asscheek.

"'m sorry! sorry for saying that! you're hot and sexy and- oh god, please!!" you start tearing up as you feel him pull out again, his balls now resting on your wet core as his lenght stands up against him. he's panting, air feeling harsh inside his lungs but oh if it's worth it. thinking about how he cages your legs between his muscular arms to not let you move as he rubs himself on you, laughing at how you start crying because of the emptiness, because you were close, because he's being mean.

"next time think twice before running that little mouth of yours baby..." he slowly positions himself again looking into your eyes, an expression you've never seen on him before, "you don't know what I can do to you in bed. got it?"

and you don't know how, but he bottoms out slamming into you, and your fourth orgasm happens along with his. explosively, walls clamping down on him as your shiny release gushes all over him, a bit on his abdomen, a bit running down both your thighs, his hot cum flowing out of you as he throws you back down on the abused matress.

"don't underestimate me ever again." he's hoarse, still a bit mad, but he leans down to kiss your lips softly and caress your cheek before leaving one last hit on your right tit, enamoured with the way it bounces lightly.

[villainbait]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Sukuna x reader | Sukuna x genderless reader Rating: 16+ Tags: brief gore mention, canon sukuna behavior, angst, thriller, horror if you squint, drama, reincarnation, Summary: "I will find you." In your past life, you were Sukuna's jailer. In this one, you're simply an office worker hoping the King of Curses has simply forgotten you. Word Count: 750~ A/N: Sorry for the Sukuna jumpscare? I feel like most of you follow me for Sylus/LADS content, but I wrote this drabble as a warm up. ♥

“Hey, did you hear?” 

You half tune out the notorious office gossip, though you’d be lying if you didn’t sometimes enjoy hearing the petty drama happening within jujutsu society. The two in suits next to you were hardly attempting to keep their voices down, anyway. 

“The King of Curses is back.” 

You choke on your food. 

“Yeah man, he manifested after a thousand years inside some pink haired high school kid. Kid isn’t even a sorcerer, everyone’s shocked he didn’t die.” You took a chance and peeked at the guy sharing the gossip just in time to see him look disgusted. “I heard he actually ate the finger. What kind of psychopath just eats a cursed object, sorcerer or not?”  

Unbidden, a memory surfaced. 

“I will always find you, in every life if I must.” His four hands wrap around the bars despite the barrier and you feel the cursed energy keeping him confined shudder, but the wards hold fast as he slams himself against his cage. “You cannot escape me.”

The threat rings in your head like it was uttered yesterday, instead of a thousand years ago. 

“Get this, rumor is kid can control him.” 

You can’t help the dry snort of laughter that makes them look at you strangely but you ignore them and take a bite of your food that suddenly tastes like sandpaper as you fight the bubbling panic. 

The thought of your life being in the hands of a teenager’s control didn’t comfort you. You pulled out your phone and thumbed through your contacts, your finger hovering over Gojo Satoru’s number. Even if the head of the Gojo clan did answer your unknown call (unlikely), he was so lackadaisical that you had little hope of him taking you seriously at all.

The rest of the day ends in a blur of boring meetings and other tedious jobs that are handed down to worker bees like you and your other coworkers. Once or twice you were reprimanded by your superior for your lack of attention, but the conversation kept replaying that you had overheard at lunch; distracting you.

You tried to console yourself with the thought that Sukuna might have forgotten you, knowing full well he would never forget his gaoler. As you made your way to the train station, your anxiety eased with the realization that he didn’t know what you looked like in this century. You were lucky to have been reincarnated with a face that did not look like the original one you wore when you had met Ryomen Sukuna a thousand years ago when you had imprisoned him.

With his threat still ringing faintly in your ears, you stepped up to the yellow line and waited; your mind adrift as another long forgotten memory swirled beneath the surface.

His breath feathers across your ear and you shudder. “Beg me,” he murmurs, clawed fingertips raking across your stomach with a deceptively delicate touch. He could slice right through you, and you both knew it. “Beg me to save you.” 

“Sukuna,” you whispered his name with reverence and heard his breath catch from behind you. “Sukuna please, they’re coming.” 

“I’ll hear your explanation after,” he hissed and released you abruptly, joy splashing across his face at the prospect of a fight. It’s over before it had a chance to begin, the group of Heian sorcerers reduced to mere ribbons of flesh piled neatly on the ground. In an odd twist of fate, they had been hunting you, not Sukuna and he wanted to know why. It was clear you had intrigued him. 

“Weak.” Condescension drips from his tone, clearly unimpressed by their prowess and power. He flicks the remnants of flesh and blood from his fingers as if such filth is not worthy to touch his skin. 

He stalks towards you with the lazy ease of a prowling beast and you desperately want to run again. Not that you’d make it a single step, so you don’t even try. He reaches for you–

The announcement snaps you out of your thoughts as you’re pushed towards the entrance of the train.

“Rapid train bound for Shinjuku will be arriving at platform 3 shortly. Please stand back behind the yellow line and wait.”

Little did you know as you boarded the train, a certain pink-haired young man had been standing four rows down, staring curiously at you the entire time as a certain curse sweetly whispered convincingly to him.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

swift revenge

Summary: Taking out a threat of a big group of raiders one of Jackson Patrol groups had spotted the day before, leaves Joel finding someone form his past he thought had been dead for over twenty years.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3.2k

Rating: M

Warnings: post outbreak, raiders, holding people in cages, sexual trafficking, implied sexual abuse, angst, dark themes, reunion, protective Joel, feral Joel taking immediate revenge when he finds out what had been done to reader, reader is Joel's pre outbreak fiancé, blood, little bit of gore

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

"Who did this to you" Drabbles

There were many, many things he could be doing right now. 

He could be at home. He could be sitting in front of his fire place, in the warmth, reading a book or enjoying a glass of shitty whiskey. 

He could try to talk to Ellie again, maybe talk her into playing the guitar with him again. 

Hell, he’d rather be working in the kitchens, enduring the trash talk of the kitchen staff, than riding through this fucking snow storm with a group of the patrol men and women, riding towards the outer parts to a small town where another patrol group had spotted raiders the day before. 

He knew that if they had been sent out through this weather, these raiders must be a real threat. 

And while he knew he was one of the most trusted and capable patrol group members, he was getting tired. 

The last two years in Jackson had made him grew comfortable. Maybe even a little lazy at times. He wasn’t getting any younger.

Sometimes he wondered how his life would be right now, if the outbreak hadn’t happened.

If he would still be living in his house in Austin. Maybe he would have got into Sarah’s pleas and put a pool in the backyard. 

Maybe his baby girl would have found someone and gotten married. Hell, maybe he’d be a grandpa by now. 

And you… maybe he would have gotten to marry you. Make a home with you. Have another kid or two….

He shook his head, his eyes blinking back into reality. 

„Approach with caution. Will and Emma spotted at least six people before they retreated. They chose the big school that we cleared some months ago as their shelter. There might be more people inside. We gonna meet up with the second patrol group in the woods behind the school and then decide how we carry on,“ Tommy instructed the group of eight people Joel was part of. 

Joel took a deep breath before he rode forwards, next to his brother. 

„How bad do you think it is?“ He asked, hearing Tommy sigh. 

„William said they saw how three men dragged a woman from inside and… you can imagine. Dunno what else is waiting inside. I don’t like it. But they got to close to Jackson. Gotta take care of them,“ he said. 

„Think we could get into the school through the barricaded basement?“ Joel asked, hearing Tommy hum. 

„Possibly. Let’s check in with the other group. They have been watching them for the last four hours,“ Tommy said. Joel nodded. 

„Hey uh… You okay? You seem… dunno quieter today,“ Tommy said, looking up at Joel from where he was riding next to him. 

Joel released a long breath.

„It’s her birthday today,“ he said quietly and Tommy raised his eyebrows before a sad smile came to his lips. 

„You gonna be okay?“ Tommy asked and Joel gave him a half smile. 

„Don’t have another choice, huh?“ He shrugged and Tommy pressed his lips together in a tight smile. 

„We should get a drink after. To celebrate her,“ Tommy said. 

Joel nodded. 

„I’d like that.“

There were definitely more than six people inside this school. Thankfully the basement entrance had still been barricaded, so they could enter the school quietly without alerting anyone inside.

But what they encountered once they made their way upstairs was unlike he had ever seen.

These people must have been here for a while.

And they were monsters. 

Cages were set up, women chained inside, with only either their head or their legs sticking out and Joel could only imagine what these monsters had been doing to them. 

He was still trying to form a plan when the first shot rang out. 

The following minutes where a blur. He had lost count of the amount of men he had killed as he made his way towards the other side of the room, still keeping an eye on the patrol group and his brother who was right beside him, taking the threats out until only three of the raiders were left, now tied up to a pole close to the staircase, William, one of the first patrol men, keeping an eye on them, gun pointed at them. 

Joel closed his eyes, his gun still in his hand as he searched for his brother who was already walking towards him. 

„How many?“ Joel asked. 

„Counted around 20 including the three that are still alive,“ he said, bending down to clean his knife from blood using the shirt of one of the dead men laying on the ground. 

Joel sighed. 

„I don’t like this,“ he said.

„Me neither. Might need some help with getting some answers out of the rest. Wanna know if there are more and how they found this place,“ Tommy said and Joel nodded. 

„What about…?“ Joel gestured around them, counting six cages. He hadn’t looked closer at who was inside. 

Tommy rubbed his fingers over his nose in deep thought. 

„Offer them to join Jackson. Don’t think they gonna trust us though. Can only imagine what these monsters put them through. Might need to send for some women from Jackson. We only have Emma here to talk to them and you know they probably do not trust men. I wouldn’t either,“ Tommy said.

Joel sighed, letting his gaze drift through the room that must have been the cafeteria before the outbreak. 

He would never understand just how much the outbreak changed people. Or more like… let them live their true self without having to think of the aftermath of their actions. 

„We gonna search the rooms on this level first and the rest of the building for more people and then I’m gonna send three people back to Jackson to get some more people and horses over here,“ Tommy said and Joel nodded. Tommy gave him a tired smile before he turned away from him and walked towards some patrol member to instruct them about what to do

Joel walked towards the first dead person laying on the ground, searching through his clothes. He hated this part, but it was important. More than once the stuff people had on them had given him clues to other threats that were around.

He was checking the third person when he heard Tommy call out for him. 

Joel grabbed the ammo he had found and walked towards his brother who was standing at one of the more closed caged. They were build rather amateurish with some wood and some barbed wire on the top. He tried to school his face into a neutral one when he approached, pointedly ignoring the filthy line of what could only be dried cum dripping down what looked like a improvised flap in the door, next to where Tommy was standing in the opened door to the cage. 

Tommy looked at Joel with an expression he had never seen before. Fear, surprise, pity?

„What’s going on?“ Joel asked and he saw Tommy send two of the patrol men away who had been standing next to him. 

Joel joined Tommy at the opened door, Tommy’s lips opening and closing without any words coming out before he finally just nodded his head towards the cage where Joel could see a woman sit in the corner, her back towards them. 

She was hiding, making herself as small as possible.

Her hair was long and matted, laying over her shoulder, almost reaching down to the ground.

„Tommy…“ Joel began, wanting to ask what the fuck was going on when the woman turned her head towards them, bright wide eyes looking directly at them.

It was like his body knew, before his brain did. 

His heart rate going up, his hands clenching into fists. His breathing quickened and he only realised he had lost his balance when he felt Tommy’s arm behind his back, holding him up.

He knew those eyes. 

He saw them in his dreams during good nights when he woke up in his old home, in his old bed, in her arms.

He saw them in his nightmares during bad nights when he imagined the million ways she had possibly died. 

He whispered your name and could see your head tilting, your eyes still on him. He didn’t know how long you just stared at each other before something in your face changed, your bottom lip trembling.

„Joel?“

Through the fog inside your brain, it took a while to realise that the man standing in the opened door of what had been your prison for weeks (or months) was not your in your imagination. 

He looked older, and for a small moment you were angry that even after more than twenty years and a whole fucking apocalypse Joel Miller still looked like he stepped straight out of a wet dream. 

You hugged yourself tighter, still cowering in the corner furthest from the door, your feelings overwhelming you. 

You mourned him. 

All this time you had mourned him.

You had been at his parents ranch near Nashville to prepare the birthday party of his mother the following week, Joel, Sarah and Tommy due to arrive the day after Joel’s birthday.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine waking up during the night having to kill both your future mother and father in law, both of them infected. 

For days after you were in shock, hiding in the old bunker under the barn, thankful for Joel’s dad being a little bit of a prepper.

You eventually, after waiting for weeks, made your way to a QZ, not knowing that only days after Joel would have made his way to his childhood home in the hope of finding you. 

You learned quickly that the QZ was your personal hell and you took the first real chance of something better to get out. 

And life was good for a while after that. You joined a community near Denver. You even made your way back to Austin, spending more time than you probably should have searching for even the smallest sign that Joel and Sarah had survived. But you found your old home abandoned. The cabinets picked over.

You had locked yourself into your old bedroom, allowing yourself to cry over the things you lost, before you took some pieces to take with you. 

One of Joel’s shirts and his aftershave that was still halfway full.

A picture of you, Joel and Sarah that had been taken on the day he had asked you to marry him. 

Once you got back to the community life moved on. 

But your luck had to run out sooner or later and after you community fell, you had been taken hostage and deemed to be left alive to… entertain the raiders who had burned down your home. 

You didn’t even know how long you had been with them. 

You didn’t know how long it had been since they had taken you. It could be months or years. 

You grew numb after a while. It was the only way to endure their abuse on your mind and body. 

The only way to survive was to flee into your imagination. 

And Joel was always there. 

You jumped when he took a step forward, his hands outstretched in a calming manner.

„Joel?“ You whispered again, tears filling your eyes. 

„It’s me Darlin’. Can I come over to you?“ He asked, and hearing his voice made the first tears escape. 

You slowly shook your head and he stopped, looking at you with concern. 

„I’m… Are you really here?“ You whispered. You could see him gulp, his eyes closing for a moment before he nodded. 

„I’m here. I’m really here. I…“ he shook his head, looking around before he looked back at you and slowly took his coat off. 

„It’s cold and you’re…. Can I put this on you?“ He asked, holding out his coat. 

You shook your head. 

„I’m filthy and I… You don’t…“ you were overwhelmed, not knowing what to do. 

„I don’t care about that Darlin’. I just want you to be comf…. I don’t want you to be cold,“ he said, approaching you slowly, like he would a frightened deer. As if you would jump away if he moved to quickly. 

„Okay,“ you whispered and he let out a relieved breath before he got closer to you.

„Let me help you,“ he whispered and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you turned towards him, your muscles spasming as you moved them, letting him slowly help you into his coat. You heard his sharp inhale the moment he saw what they did to you, the many many scars covering your whole chest, your whole body really, his breath stuttering for a moment before he slowly zipped up his coat and you couldn’t stop yourself as you let yourself fall against his chest. His arms pulling you against him immediately. 

You cried against his chest until you had no more tears left. 

When you finally looked up at him he was already looking at you.

Those big brown eyes you had fallen in love with looking at you with concern and wonder.

He reached out slowly, giving you time to turn away before his fingers slowly brushed over your cheek, the palm of his hand slowly coming to rest against your cheek and you leaned into his touch. 

„Sweetheart,“ he whispered and you closed your eyes. 

„Who did this to you?“ He asked and you released a shaky breath, opening your eyes again. 

„Who… Who hurt you like that? Who…. Who did this to you? Please tell me,“ he was almost begging, and you could see how he was restraining himself to keep calm. There was something lingering in his eyes that should scare you, but instead you found comfort in it. 

„Everyone. They all…“ you stopped yourself, one of your hands coming up to press against your chest, a move that you used to calm yourself down. 

You felt something drop down on your hand, looking up to find a tear drip down Joel’s cheek. 

„Tommy,“ he said and you were confused for a moment before someone else walked into your cell, and there was Tommy Miller, who you had not realised had been there before.

„Hi,“ he smiled warmly at you and you awkwardly smiled back, not having used these muscles in a long time. 

„Tommy is gonna stay with you,“ Joel said and you looked at Joel with wide eyes, your fingers digging into his arms, not wanting him to leave. 

„No… No… No you need to stay…. I need you to….“ You panicked. 

„Shhh…. Sweetheart. I’ll be right back. I just need…. I just need to punch one of these people in the face before I….“ You could feel him shaking beneath you in barely contained fury. 

„Joel,“ you whispered, and he finally looked at you. 

„Can you…. Can you take me away form here?“ You asked, voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

He took a deep calming breath before he looked at Tommy. 

„I’m okay to go back home?“ He asked. Tommy nodded. 

„Okay. Okay….“ He said, more to himself before he looked back at you. 

„I’m gonna take you home,“ he said.

When you slowly made your way towards the exit he picked two blankets, pulling them around your shoulders. You looked around the room, finding so many of the men who had made your life a living hell for so long lying dead on the floor. 

But it were the very alive bright blue eyes of one of the men, Gabriel, who had loved to use his knife on you most, that were looking at you that made you shrink back against Joel, your steps faltering. 

„Ah I see how it is. Kill all of my men and then steal the tightest pussy right under my nose. Fucking assholes,“ he spat and you turned away from him, hiding against Joel.

„Tommy,“ he hissed under his breath and you found yourself in the other mans arms the next moment. You looked after Joel, internally already panicking about seeing him walk away from you, before he picked up one of the axes that had been used for firewood. 

„So you just pick up women and rape them because you feel like it huh?“ Joel asked as he walked towards him. 

„I mean Yeah,“ Gabriel shrugged.

Joel nodded, coming to a stop right in front of him. 

„And I’m gonna continue to fucking do it once I get out of here,“ he said and Joel chuckled.

„You think you’re getting out of here? Really?“ Joel asked, the handle of the axe now resting on top of his shoulder. 

„Had worse odds. Some of our guys are still out, scavenging. They gonna be back and then we gonna kill you. And then we gonna get to your little community and take over…“ he said, confidence pouring out of every pore of this disgustingly excuse of a human. 

„Oh yeah? What makes you think we haven’t killed all 27 of them already?“ Joel asked and Gabriel’s smile slowly disappeared. 

„Huh? Not so sure you gonna get out of here now? You think we’re amateurs? The rest of your men are right outside. Dead,“ Joel mocked.

„Please I….“

„Tell you what. I’ll let you go,“ Joel said and you stilled. You could still feel Tommy with his arm around you, keeping you close.

Gabriel didn’t say anything, just looking up at Joel. 

„Under one condition though,“ Joel’s lips twitched into a frightening smile. 

„What is it?“ Gabriel asked and Joel called for another man, whispering something in his ear, the other man nodding. 

„You really should look away now,“ Tommy said to you and you looked up at him. 

„Why?“ You asked. Tommy only shook his head but you looked back to Joel anyway just in time when Gabriel started yelling. 

The man Joel had whispered to was pulling at Gabriels pants until he was naked from the waist down. Two other men came and grabbed Gabriel who was now screaming. They pulled him up, carrying him over to a table where he then stood against it, Joel following them, the axe now swinging and you slowly connected the dots of what was about to happen. 

„I’m letting you go,“ Joel said, before he brought the axe down, Gabriel’s bloodcurdling scream filling the room that let you hide against Tommy, taking deep breaths against him. 

Everything that happened after was a blur, but the next thing you could remember was that you were on top of a horse, Joel holding you against him, your body tucked into the blankets against his chest.

„Thank you,“ you whispered, feeling his arms tighten around you, his lips finding your temple.

„Always,“ he whispered.

[toxicanonymity]

road house - scream au

2k, neighbor!elwood dalton x f!reader. I8+ cumfest, piv, mild somno, ref to dubcon.

Could refer to a random ghostface or Rat in a cage.

_____________________________________________

After you let ghostface put his dick in you, he wanted more. You found yourself thinking about it too, but you were scared of him. He had killed one of your friends, and what you did with him was a mistake. You wanted him to leave you alone.

You had a close call one night at your apartment when you saw his cloaked form rush by your window. Seconds later, there was a knock at your door that made your heart jump.  But when you looked through your peephole, it was your neighbor, Dalton, a retired MMA fighter. Massive, sculpted, veiny arms sticking out of a sleeveless hoodie. There was no one you'd rather see. Not just because you had a little crush on him, but because he could keep you safe better than anyone.

He asked to borrow some olive oil and offered to make you dinner in return. You accepted. You wanted to tell Dalton that ghostface was after you, but you were afraid you'd sound crazy. You didn't want to scare him away. To feel safer, you could always stay at your mom and stepdad's house, but how long was this going to last? You barely slept for several nights. 

---

One night, you did it--You went over to Dalton's unit and told him you were afraid. He let you in. He asked what was wrong, but didn't force you to explain. When it got late, he asked if you would be okay on your own, and you said no. He let you sleep in his bed, and he took the sofa. You slept in a t-shirt and underwear.

In the middle of the night, you startled awake with a nightmare. You must have been loud, because Dalton didn’t have good hearing, but he still came rushing into the bedroom. “You’re okay,” he repeated. “Hey, you’re good. I’m here.” As you came back to your senses, you took in the view of his strong, handsome, shirtless silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed in only his skivvies.  

You asked him to get in bed with you until you fell back asleep, and he agreed. You wished he'd stay with you all night. He fell asleep with his hands behind his head. You wanted him to hold you. You made the move to cuddle up to him with your head in the crook of his arm and a hand on his shredded chest. In his sleep, he reflexively put his arm around you. As you woke up, your knee bent, with a mind of its own, looking to rest your thigh across his body. When you brushed a hard shape in his boxer briefs, you fully woke up. Your heart raced.

He didn't seem to wake up, so you dared to rest your leg against it, and his balls. “Mm,” a soft grunt in his sleep and a twitch of his cock was his only response. You lay there getting wet, then he slurred “world champion.” 

A while later, just as you were almost back to sleep, his free hand came to your knee. He pulled your leg tighter against his hard-on and let out a barely audible moan that made you throb. His large hand slid a few inches and grabbed the side of your thigh. His hips rocked slowly, lazily rubbing his stiff length against you. It made your nipples harden. You wanted to pull down his underwear and feel the smooth skin of his cock gliding over his thick, hard shaft as he rutted against your thigh. You wanted him to wake up and punish you for making him so horny, then be affectionate after releasing it all over you. Or all in you. He moaned a little louder and your breath hitched.

You lifted your head to get a look at his face: Lips parted, brow furrowed. He moved your leg and slowly humped it, his cock feeling bigger and stiffer every time it pressed into your flesh. You twitched between the legs and felt you might come. You couldn't help but lightly grind against his hip. This continued, his moans becoming regular.

You got closer and closer and tried not to hold your breath, fuck. Then, you reached your peak, clit pulsing against his hip. You kept quiet and remained as still as you could, but your body still jerked as you clenched around nothing. Your leg clamped down on him, and he moaned, then his cock pulsed in his boxer briefs, right against your inner thigh. Your heart fluttered and you let out a soft moan as he came in his underwear, warmth spreading, dick twitching against you, making a mess of himself after low key jacking off with your leg in his sleep. It dawned on you that you’d likely soaked through your panties and onto his boxers briefs, with your legs spread like this.

His grip loosened on your thigh, his breathing changed. His heart beat faster under your cheek. You panicked and pretended to be asleep with his thick cock softening under you. It was too late to take your leg away. 

He groaned quietly, then gently lifted your leg to take it off his body. You pretended to half-wake up, and he muttered, “sorry.” It was somewhere between bemused and embarrassed, but he was calm, as always. 

“What,” you whispered. 

“Wet dream,” he stated plainly and quietly. Your face got hot. Your head was still on his chest near the armpit. He asked, “You didn’t . . . . “do anything?” 

“Did you dream I did?” you asked. 

“Uh–I shouldn’t've asked” 

“Sorry if I put my leg on you, I normally sleep with a body pillow.” 

He adjusted himself. “Not your fault. . .Hope this doesn’t make things awkward.” 

“It won’t.” 

“Really?” he asked skeptically with a hint of condescension. “How? It’s objectively embarrassing.” Somehow he didn’t sound embarrassed, though.  Something came over you, and you blurted out, “Cause, it’s kinda hot.” Immediate regret. Why did you say that? 

He sucked his chin back to look down at you. You lifted your head off him. He lifted his eyebrows with a smile. “ Nice,” he said in a near-whisper. “Alright, your turn.” 

Your heart skipped a beat and your lips parted as you stared at him blankly. 

“Make me feel better. Tell me something embarrassing.”

Oh. Okay. 

You propped your head up and he was just so hot, a smile crept up your lips as you looked at him.

He turned onto his side to face you. “I’ll wait,” he teased. You let your eyes wander to the vein on his bulging bicep as you tried to think. 

You shook your head. “I can only think of one thing and it’s way worse.” No, don’t tell him that. Are you crazy? 

“Perfect,” he encouraged. 

“Ghostface,” you whispered. “That’s who I’m afraid of.” 

"That makes sense,” he squinted. “Just last week–shit, that was your friend, wasn’t it?” Concern pinched his face. “Thought she looked familiar.” He stroked your arm and looked at you softly.

“That’s not the embarrassing part,” you admitted, unable to stop yourself. You had been dying to tell someone, and something told you he wouldn’t judge you. You couldn’t put your finger on why. 

“Okay,” he nodded slowly, raising his brows in anticipation. “I’m listening.” 

“I can’t,” you shook your head. “Sorry.” 

“What, did you wet your bed?” His face was dismissive, like it would be no big deal. 

You managed a slight chuckle, then swallowed.  He searched your face then settled on your eyes. 

“I had sex with him,” you blurted out. 

Dalton laughed, then it faded as he absorbed your face. Your eyes were watering. “Ghostface?” he asked. 

You nodded. His breathing deepened. He was still calm, but something was simmering under the surface. “He attacked you?” 

“Kind of, I guess. I dunno”  

His nostrils flared and his neck vein bulged. “And forced you.”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted it.” 

Dalton’s blue eyes widened. He propped himself up on his forearm. and slowly nodded, digesting this information. “When?”

“Like a week ago.” 

“He killed your friend, *then* you let him fuck you?”

“I know,” you whispered and turned your head toward the bed in shame. 

“You sure you wanted it?” 

“Yeah. I was on top.” 

You glanced at him just as his eyebrows shot up.

“I know, it’s so messed up.” 

“He didn’t hurt you at all?”

“He didn’t.” 

“Are you a nympho or something?” he asked, then quickly added, “No judgment.”

“No. . . I dunno.”

After a moment of silence, you looked up at him. He was perfectly still, scanning your face. Then his eyes locked with yours. 

“You must think I’m crazy,” you muttered. You were disappointed in yourself for sharing this, but at the same time, it felt like such a relief to tell someone, anyone. 

“No,” he calmly stated. “It’s . . .kinda hot,” he revealed. “Turned me on.” He brazenly adjusted himself.

“Don’t have to make me feel better.” 

“I’m not. I'm. . . intrigued”  

He got closer, then rested his hand on your side. He ran his hand up and down your side, then pulled your bodies together until they were flush. His boxer briefs were damp against your underwear, and he was hard. He looked at your lips, then his face slowly drifted toward yours, and you closed the gap with a kiss. Your lips sealed together and your tongues found each other.

He grinded against you to the slow, hard rhythm of the kiss, then hiked your leg up over himself and his hand slid down your thigh to your ass. He kissed you needily and moaned into your mouth as his cock swelled even harder against your front. He kneaded your ass, then, from the back, his fingers worked their way to the crotch of your panties. He kept kissing you as he ghosted your folds from behind, through the damp cotton. 

“Mm,” he hummed into your mouth. 

He worked a finger under the fabric and gave a more pronounced, “Mmmm,” when he felt how warm and wet you were.  A thick finger prodded your hole, then slid inside. As the digit pushed in, you twitched around it and his mouth broke away with a moan. His finger slid out, leaving you empty, then he yanked your underwear down and you helped take it off. He took his off as well, in a hurry. He got up on his knees, holding his cock – big, veiny, and webbed with cum. “You’re hot,” he breathed and stroked it once. 

He searched your eyes, then got between your legs and your clit twitched when his tip slid down your folds to notch at your entrance. Without pause, he pushed his wet cock into you, dividing your walls with a moan, making you gasp. He withdrew most of his length, then slammed into you, bottoming out and throbbing with you spread around his manhood. He grunted and breathed heavily as he fucked his cum into you. His beautiful veins bulged–on his arms, his chest. 

He planted his hands on the bed, arms straight, and kept his hips loose–each time he withdrew his length, he let something like gravity push him back in. His movements were so smooth and fluid, but the weight of his cock was unforgiving. His balls slapped against you. He got down on one forearm and groped your breast as he fucked you. He sucked your neck. 

The new angle had him grinding against you, and it didn’t take long until you were choking out his name, “Dal–dalton, fuck,” then coming on his cock, squeezing it, spasming around him, hips lifting into him. He groaned and slowed down but fucked you through it. “Ugh,” he gritted, then you said, “Don’t pull out.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to ask, “Did he come in you?”

You nodded. He closed his eyes again and groaned on the edge of bliss. He bit his lip, then bottomed out, and his mouth fell open as he erupted in your depths. “F—ohhhhh.”

You closed your eyes and savored the way he pulsed inside you, something you’d imagined many times. He let some of his weight down onto you and stayed inside for a minute, until he slid out and spooned you. 

You couldn’t help but think to yourself–if your situation with ghostface was what made Dalton fuck you, maybe everything happened for a reason. 

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ty for reading this random little treat. i'm not doing any intentional writing right now and i think the break is already helping soothe my brain. but this just kinda . . .slipped out.