#rolls on the floor weeping at them

[enigmatic-bumble]

When you finish reading a novel and it's like

[rockingbytheseaside]

omg, I am quite literally in love with your work.

pls I cannot tell you how frickin ecstatic I am when I read your stuff 😭 like I’m Fr Rolling on the floor and stopping every five secs bc of the butterflies-

AND! I saw that your asks are open!! (If I misread/misunderstood then I’m so sorry and just ignore this) I was wondering if you could do Harbingers x reader when they find reader quietly weeping- like reader thought they were alone and didn’t wanna burden them :3 romantic if you would !!

no pressure ofc!!!! fr I love ur stuff sm like I’ve been reading ur stuff OVER AND OVER😭😭😭

(bshdhsgdhagjds Okay, let me just hold in my tears- that’s so kind of you anon! Sorry for making you wait, I hope this is something similar to what you wanted) 

✦ How they comfort you when you cry

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

Sometimes, your days might feel bitter, and sometimes the weight of your inner struggles can accumulate into a somber heap of self-doubt. Whether it was a minute inconvenience that resulted in your dampened mood, or stressful memories of the past – the reasons behind it fade into insignificance. Because next thing you know, you feel your shoulders slightly shaking, and your hand reaching to conceal your silent weeping. Thus, when talking becomes a burden and your breath runs short, your beloved is the first to listen to your sniffles.

✧ Pierro’s already icy gaze becomes unreadable. Is it fear? Is it astonishment? Or is it the readiness to unleash hell upon anything that compelled you to shed these silent tears? He sees you hugging yourself, trying to shield yourself away from him. His gloved hands cautiously reach for your form, like a blanket wrapping itself around your shoulders. 

“My divine one, why hide your tears away from me? Why conceal the sadness in your eyes when you silently weep? Please, grace me with your gaze and look at me.” 

His voice is careful despite its deepness, suppressing his boiling temper at the sight of your sadness. He reaches for you tenderly, and when you turn towards him, you allow yourself to cry further into his chest. He cradles you silently, never once wasting breath on simple shushes or admonishments to cease crying. No, The Jester will hold you, let his lips press softly to your forehead, and let you cry as much as you need. He'll personally worship and wipe every teardrop off your cheek. 

Yet despite his gentle arms, you sense him shaking. His gloved hands hold you securely, yet subconsciously gripping. Because pray to the archons above, he will not rest until the source of your sadness is annihilated. 

✧ Il Capitano never saw you cry before. He saw you as an equal in matters of battles, duels, and personal life. Through ups and downs, your best and worst. And yet the imposing, mighty Captain never witnessed his beloved’s face slowly scowl and emit those saddened sobs as you're doing now. 

“No… who bestowed such sadness onto you, my cherished? What sorrows are you fighting?” 

He asks, half in disbelief and worry. The Captain kneels down, the back of his armored hands gracefully meeting your face. He makes sure you’re not physically in pain, his touch asking permission for the simplest caress. You might feel embarrassed to explain why you're crying, but the Captain will coax you to talk only if you bestow him this honor. Otherwise, he never mocks or admonishes you for crying – “This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of humanity in your strength.”

To soothe you, he'd drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing the side of his coat to shield you. If you desire, he'd immediately discard his coat entirely and wrap it over your shoulders. And if you desire neither this or that, he'd silently kneel, asking for permission to pick you up in his forearms, so you may rest on his shoulder while he carries you away. 

✧ You cannot conceal your sorrows from Il Dottore. He suspects you are feeling dejected before you even realize it. Should your shoulders quiver and tears well in your eyes, he'll be the first to perceive it. His already tense countenance will harden, and in short, murderous intent, he’ll ask:

“Who did this to you?”

His first suspension is that someone foolish enough dared to hurt you, and his next task is to seek out that moron. And stars above, if someone did ruin your day, the Doctor will have a new cadaver on his lab table. You'll have to physically restrain the Harbinger in front of you by putting your hands on his shoulder and explaining hurriedly that no one did anything harmful. 

Il Dottore won't quell his inner rage so easily though. As you shake your head, and rub your eyes, it will require much persuasion to convince him that it’s not as dire as he suspects. Nonetheless, Dottore will keep a tight hold on your form. If he won't murder someone in rage, then he'll prepare a soothing beverage and wrap you up in a comfortable seating so you may rest your weary head. He’ll have to personally drag you to sit by his lap so you won’t desolate yourself into a depressive fit again. 

“Wasting your breath and energy on crying is a futile endeavor. You'll only tire your body out… so rest in my arms before your mind starts weaving more puny sentiments.” 

✧ The ever-prideful and strict Scaramouche would find himself faltering into silence when the unfamiliar sound emanates from your being. The hiccupped sounds of choked cries are not foreign to him - he recognized them very well and was personally acquainted with the physical pain of crying. But seeing the closest being, the one he calls most cherished, to unexplainable weep was a new form of pain he had never experienced. 

“... Are you-? What's wrong, are you hurt? Did something-!”

An expression of shock and fear bestows the Balladeer, his hands are reluctant and afraid to cross your boundaries when you cry in front of him. His first instinct is to believe that he has erred, that he has hurt you or spoken insensitively. Anguished, his fist tightens, dreading your stern rejection. Yet, all it takes is a gentle shake of your head and a soft reassurance - no, he hasn't actually done anything wrong.

His brow will remain furrowed, and only under your permission, he would glue himself to you in a reassuring embrace. It's only after he's assured of your safety and well-being that the Harbinger begins to ease up and scoff. Maybe, just maybe, he will go and bring your favorite sweets afterward. Regardless, his hands kept cupping your face, thumbs gently wiping your tears.

“Ha, you’re that sensitive that you’d weep at the most minor inconvenience? Fine, I’ll stay here. But don’t get too comfortable. And you better stop apologizing for crying. You should never say sorry for something like that. It’s in your right to cry… Just come to me when something’s troubling you, alright?”

✧ You cannot recall a single instance when Pantalone's captivating smile ever wavered. The man has perfected his charismatic, million-mora smile that only you can discern if he’s being genuine or not. But to witness it dropping completely in a cold stare while you cried was chilling. You felt scared, as the Harbinger grew eerily silent with each slow step, he demanded:

“... Give me names and I will make sure they will disappear permanently.”

You jolted. This was bad, and it sure didn’t quell your sobbing as you hurriedly shook your head. Pantalone took a deep sigh, his brain forced to flip a switch and change to a more tender tone so he wouldn’t scare you further with his sinister rage. He will deal with the causes later. What mattered now was your shaken state. Hence, like the dotting lover he is, he softly inquired whether you wish to talk or have some privacy. 

If you willingly welcomed his physical touch, then prepare yourself for a day filled with him enfolding you tightly. He will draw you near, letting you cry your frustrations out until you get fatigued and rest against his lean chest. The Regrator always fulfills his pledges, gently rocking you back and forth. He will vow to spoil you on the next shopping spree and purchase everything you desire - luxuries, clothes, perfumes, or fancy meals, all of it is yours with a snap of his fingers (even if you reprimand his indulgence). His embraces are tenacious, endless kisses raining down on your face until you plead and whine to be released from his insistent hugs.

"My heart, how can I possibly release you when you should be adorned with kisses instead of tears? I am afraid I won’t be so easily reassured until I see your smile again."

✧ Tartaglia’s highlight of the day is mirroring your luminous smile; hence when he first heard your sorrowful sniffles, it felt like a sudden dark cloud washed past him, pouring cold water to wipe his smile off in an instant. Without hesitation, his hand found itself on your shoulder as he guided you to sit first.

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong, darling? I’m here, it’s alright.”

He observes your attempt to explain the root of your troubles, but as you try to elaborate, your tears only intensify against your own will. Kneeling in front of you, his gaze was resolute - he now had a mission. He will immediately soothe your mood with tender words of endearment, lighthearted banter, and the occasional joke here and there, anything to make you crack up with that sweet smile he so adores.

Tartaglia will remind you that first and foremost, he is your Ajax - the one who will bring laughter through his playful teasing and delightful humor during your times of melancholy. The one who will cook you the best Snezhnayan Bliny better than any pancake restaurant. And the one who will always be there so you can lean your head on his shoulder and just feel his heartbeat as he embraces you deeply. In any other circumstances, he is the 11th of the Fatui Harbinger who will work and bloody his fists for your safety. However, for now, you shouldn’t occupy your thoughts with such concerns.

“Hey, it’s alright… You don’t have to feel embarrassed for crying. We all have bad days from time to time. How about this, leave today’s dinner on me. I shall cook your favorite even better than you could imagine! Or else what sort of boyfriend would I be if I’m not spoiling my darling.” 

[pseudowho]

Still got it

Artwork by Mmiyoart (2021)

The kids are teenagers, so you and Kento are just their boring parents...right?

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Imagine you and Nanami Kento as parents, but older now, in your forties, and the kids are teenagers at Jujutsu High (much to Kento's displeasure and concern).

The two of you always kept your work life separate to home; the kids knew what the two of you do of course, they all know Curses and Cursed techniques, your two daughters and a son being in possession of these talents themselves.

But you and Kento never come home in mission-wear. You're always patched up by Shoko, one of your oldest and dearest friends, before you walk through the door. Kento never winces as he cooks dinner in a fresh shirt, but behind your bedroom door at night, you gently push his shirt off his shoulders and bathe his wounds, gently kissing his bruises, his head resting back between your breasts as your arms curl round him from behind. You never discuss your kills in front of the kids, the evenings instead, full of talk of exams, arguments with best friends, chastising for using phones at dinner time.

You and Kento make sure you barely overlap at Jujutsu High, teaching students in the other years instead. Your daughters and your son know, in a vague way, that you're both respected First and Second Grade sorcerers in your own right, but to them you're just mum and dad.

Until, one day, that changes. Your three kids, all promising Second Grade sorcerers, and committed to the cause, get into trouble. The Curse they're sent to eliminate is so much stronger than they imagined. Your eldest daughter fights on bravely as your son carries their sister, wounded, to safety. All three are filled with terror as the Curse begins to overwhelm them, their short lives with you and Kento, their adoring parents, flashing in front of their eyes, wondering how the two of you would ever recover from their deaths.

Then, in a flash of black and red, Nanami Kento steps into the fight. A colossal wave of Cursed energy rolls over the children, stunned, breathless, eyes wide as their father, who does maths homework with them, who kisses them all goodnight at bedtime, who bakes at the weekends, instead now ruthlessly, effortlessly wipes the floor with the Curse that nearly killed his babies.

Kento is a demon in battle, tie ripped off, blunt blade whirling, his battle-hardened body just as imposing and lithe as it was in the years before the kids were born. The hands that held theirs when they were tiny, that threw them around ever-so-gently during play-fights, now wielded as weapons with murderous intent.

Even more alarmed are the children, when you appear beside Kento, and as the Curse staggers on its last legs, they hear you shout to Kento- "Throw me!" and, with not an ounce of hesitation, Kento tosses you like a rugby ball, for you to land the killing blow on the Curse.

You are smooth, meticulous, concentrated while making light work of a messy job. The children hear their father hum in approval of you as you take the Curse to task for its crimes against your babies.

Not even sparing the withering corpse a glance, you and Kento rush to your children. You hold your son and eldest daughter's faces, eyes full of tears as you check them all over for damage, their hearts swelling when you praise them for taking care of each other, for doing such a fantastic job holding out until you both arrived.

Kento drops to his knees beside his wounded youngest daughter, gripping her close to him, no less mighty and powerful after years of marriage and raising children. Nanami Kento manages the first and only reverse-cursed technique heal of his whole life, and repairs his daughter's wounds. He holds her to him and weeps quietly as she reassures him, wholly her mother's daughter. Kento grips his son gently around the back of the neck, pulling him down for a tight hug, his son almost breaking at Kento's familiar rumble praising him for prioritising his sister's safety, telling his son he's so proud of the man he's becoming.

Days later, and with the children now recovered, rumours of Nanami-sensei and Nanami-sensei's scathing criticism of and attack on the higher-ups is the talk of the Jujutsu High students. The children are silent throughout, still stunned by the overwhelming skill of their parents.

One of the other students jokingly raises the incident to your kids one day; "Oh man. I wouldn't like to have your parents mad at me. I'd never get over disappointing them."

"Are they...that much of a big deal?" your son asks his friend weakly. His friend raises his eyebrows, amazed, laughing.

"You mean the one and only legends, the Nanami-sensei's? Who the hell did you guys think raised you?"

You and Kento walk down the steps towards them, hands brushing together but not holding, keen to maintain professionalism at school. The children watch as your eyes meet his, love passing between you both, and wonder how they had thought of you as their boring mum and dad for all these years.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

[cutiefulism]

meantutor!geto (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) jjk

based (loosely) on this art <3

meantutor!geto who does everything to avoid getting you put on his schedule. at least the other dumbasses try to learn — you just sit on your laptop playing papa’s games or doing online shopping.

meantutor!geto who rolls his eyes hard when he sees you get bumped up higher on his list, all the way to the top spot. it's almost disappointing how desperate his company is for more money. he thought taking bribes from your daddy was above them.

meantutor!geto whose expectations for your study session is very, very low. you'll probably get confused the second he starts explaining anything with more depth than a kiddie pool, and leave. good. he has enough on his plate without you wasting his already precious time.

meantutor!geto who hates how his eyes linger on your low-cut top. he's not some virginal loser — the sight of a pair of nice tits isn't going to make him fall head over heels with you. yet, even as he explains today's lesson, his eyes can't stop dropping from your face . .

meantutor!geto who notices your own wandering eyes and hands. heated gaze lingering on his lips and piercings, bare thigh pressing against his, soft hand brushing against his broad hands and defined forearms. of course you're more focused on flirting than what he's saying.

meantutor!geto who thinks it's only right to punish you for wasting his time.

“suguruuu—”

rough fingers dig into the plush of your ass, and a sharp snap of his hips shuts you right on up, another moan catching in the back of your throat.

“shut up,” he growls. “you're so fuckin’ noisy. can't you at least mind your manners in a library?”

oh, it's humiliating how something in your stomach (and between your thighs) flutters at his words.

your teeth sink into your glossy lip to swallow down any more noises. just because this part of the campus library isn't popular doesn't mean some geek won't wander over here.

you tighten your grip on the dust-covered shelves as geto continues to piston in and out of your drooling cunt, one hand on your ass and the other on the dip of your back, keeping your skirt up and out of the way.

his pupils are blown, narrowed eyes locked onto the way your entrance all but sucks him in, a mix of your arousal and his spit coating his length.

you're almost perfect, but geto isn't so pussydrunk as to let that leave his lips. he has no plans to inflate your stupid little ego even more.

the typical stale smell of old books and coffee is swamped underneath geto’s cologne, some fragrant, flowery scent that makes you want to bury your face in his neck and never let up.

he's big, too — broad shoulders, thin waist, wide hips and a long dick that continues to ram into you with a brutal pace, not giving you a single moment of reprieve.

each harsh thrust hits that spongey spot, and geto only clicks his tongue when he notices the way your legs are starting to tremble, how you just can't hold back every moan and whine.

pathetic.

geto leans forward, warm chest pressing against your back and pushing you further into the hard, cold shelf.

“you're such a slut,” he hisses into your ear, hot breath ghosting across the shell, and it doesn't take a genius to hear that smug grin in his low voice. “so desperate for dick that you'd fuck your tutor.”

“don't—” you swallow down the saliva that's pooled in your mouth. “don't c-call me that.”

“. . oh?”

his hips come to a complete stop, and he pulls out with a squelch, earning a frustrated whine from you. his cock twitches in protest, pre weeping from that angry-red tip and dripping onto the floor.

“ungh, s-suguru!”

“so what should i call you, if not what you are?”

you knew geto was cruel. how could you not?

he doesn't genuinely interact with anyone outside of his already microscopic friend group. he's always, always talking down to someone, whether it be a student wanting help or a teacher who got something wrong in class. hell, he sanitizes his hands when he touches someone.

yet you showed up to this tutoring session anyway.

your brows draw together, and you tuck that plump lip between your teeth . .

and geto smirks.

“good girl,” is all he says before slamming back into you, forcing a squeak from the back of your throat and knocking a few untouched books from their shelves.

“you–” plap “know–” plap “exactly” plap “what you–” plap “are– fuck!”

his dick stretches you right back out, and your eyes slide alllll the way back in your head.

geto decides he likes you much better like this. too stuffed full of him to think about anything (not that he believes you do much of that to begin with), to say or do something infuriatingly dumb.

you're meant for this. meant for him.

a reward for all of his hard work in this life.

“o-oh, oooh, suguru, ‘m gunna—”

his hand leaves your ass and slaps right over that tempting mouth.

“thought i . . mmm, shit— i told you to shut the fuck up?”

it's almost a shame he has to silence your siren’s call.

geto’s pace, once measured and deliberate, falters into sloppy, dragging rolls and frenzied pumps. and, god, his balls are so heavy he's sure he's going to explode.

his sweaty forehead drops onto your shoulder, ragged pants seeping through your thin top. “y-you’ll take whatever i give you, yeah? don't want that filthy pussy to waste a . . a single drop.”

whatever you have to say is swallowed right on up by his palm, but you're nodding your head anyway.

his hips stutter, and then he lets out a breathy, drawn-out groan, dick twitching as spurts of milky white paint your gummy insides. it's neverending, like this is the first time geto has came in his damn life, and you can't help but relish in the feeling.

geto is smart enough to not knock you up just yet.

just a few seconds later, you're cumming right along with him, pussy spasming and squirt spraying the floor and your thighs. stars twinkle behind your lids, and your chest heaves, lungs working overtime to regulate your breathing.

he stays slumped against you for only a moment, dark bangs sticking to his forehead and sweat trickling down his back.

when he's quiet like this, cock weakly twitching in your snug haven, he's almost . . cute.

but, much to both yours and his dismay, he slowly pulls out with a small grunt. geto lifts his head up and steps away from you, cleaning himself off with a travel pack of tissues only to pause.

not a single glance is spared your way, even as your legs struggle to keep you upright.

no, now he's much more focused on the cum leaking free from your used hole.

a frown mars his face, and before you can protest, he's scooping it right back in with two thick fingers.

“w-wait, don't do that—”

“you said you'd take it. you're not dumb enough to go back on a promise, right?”

meantutor!geto who now turns a blind eye when your name pops up on his list of students to tutor.

my html converter not working is a sign this will flop methinks...

[witherby]

Part 7 of mer!reader?🫣🫣🫣

Of course! I think it's time to get you and Damian back together.

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 7

Masterlist with all parts Here!

Content features upsetting Mer behavior and unsafe diving practices. Wear your protective gear, people!

It takes another month for your routine to settle back into a semblance of normalcy. The specialists Bruce told Damian about had spent three days observing your behaviors and drew up a detailed care plan to help you recover as best as you could, which the facility follows with great enthusiasm.

You wake up and swim to the entrance of the tank to receive breakfast from Jon. Afterwards, he and Clark gently roll you out of the tank to apply weird-smelling salves to the patches on your tail, encouraging it to heal correctly and for new scales to grow. You sit and wait for the salve to absorb, then you get back into the water to play a little, and then it's Attention Time.

You swim all the way to the bottom floor of your tank, where visitors come admire you through the tunnels under your tank for several hours. Sometimes you have the energy to do a trick or two.

Then, it's back up to the top of the tank for dinner, more playtime, and then you get to sleep until tomorrow where you do it all again.

But the lethargy remains. The stinging, empty space in your chest only seems to grow the more you see Damian dispassionately leading tours and refusing to look at you. Of all the people that come to admire you, the one person whose attention you actually want, you cannot get.

Jon, bless him, is trying so hard to keep you happy. He talks to you every day, he gives you tons of treats, he swims with you as long as you want him to, and he's given you so many new toys that they've overtaken your cute rock collection. His effort is why you're doing your best to hide how bad you still feel.

And his company does help! It does. You can comfortably call him a friend, and mean it. But you are so tired. You miss Damian so much. You feel drained, and the urge to remain inside your little hideout gets stronger every passing day.

Every night, in the comforting darkness of your castle spire, the old bricks pressing against your body and shielding you from the rest of the world, you allow your thoughts to drift back to the boy with beautiful, emerald eyes without fail.

You think of the first time you met him, and how he looked at you as just another dumb animal in the aquarium for him to care for. You think of the first time you made him realize you were so much more — how you'd done every trick he commanded with such attitude and even mocked him back that he actually cracked a smile. You think of the first time you pulled him into the water to show him your favorite parts of your habitat, and then how he reassured you it was fine that you almost drowned him by accident because he knew you hadn't meant to. You think of all the times he snuck in after hours to spend just a little more time with you, to play just one more game, to ensure you didn't feel like another part of his job he had to do but someone he genuinely looked forward to seeing.

You think of the pretty blush on his face when you mustered the courage to give him your scales.

You think of all the gifts you left him afterwards, and how you didn't get any back.

You think of his dispassionate expression as he leads another group of visitors into your enclosure, day after day after day.

Your chest burns. You weep into the water and succumb to fitful slumber.

--

"I need a dive team to the Mer tank please! Right now!"

Damian furrows his brow, momentarily pausing his work. He's in the dolphin exhibit currently hand-feeding them when the announcement comes over the speaker system. He wonders what you're doing to have freaked Jon out, but it's not his place to care anymore, so he tries to push the curiosity from his mind and refocus on his task.

One dolphin in particular is pretty bad about taking food from a handler. It's also just food aggressive in general, bullying its pod-mates out of the way to get to the food first. Damian can't help but compare how much smarter you are to these animals. He sighs.

"Doctor Kent to the Mer exhibit!"

Hmm. Did you breach your tank again? Or maybe you bumped your body against the spire you like to sleep inside. Damian tried to tell his father that the rough brick texture could hurt your more vulnerable top half if not careful, but Bruce was certain you'd be alright. He wonders what kind of fuss you're kicking up today, if it's a real issue or if Jon hasn't been around you long enough to realize that sometimes you fake a problem because it's funny.

"All divers to the Mer exhibit please!"

Tim rushes through the door into the dolphin exhibit, startling Damian into dropping the bucket. He quickly backs up with a gasp as the dolphins swarm to the food and start gobbling it up. He faces Tim with a glare.

"Does nobody know how to follow protocol anymore? You're supposed to knock before you —"

"You need to get upstairs," Tim says, holding up an access key to your enclosure, "like right now. Vitals on our mer are really bad, we can't extract them from the spire and —"

Damian doesn't stick around to hear him finish that sentence. He snatches the key and sprints through the aquarium like the devil's on his fucking heels. His heart is racing and not from the exertion. He forgoes the elevator and starts rushing up the stairs three at a time, climbing floor by floor by floor to get to you as fast as he can.

It was a real emergency, then? What had happened? Jon was supposed to be taking care of you now. You were supposed to be recovering. You were supposed to be happier without him, now.

What was wrong with you?

There's no time to head into the locker room and get a wetsuit on. He jams the key into the exhibit door and throws it open, rushing into the room with single-minded focus.

Jon is in a wetsuit and treading water, relaying information to his dad with a worried frown. Clark is kneeling next to the tank and giving him instructions on how to get you to the surface. Dick is sitting on the lip of the tank and wiggling into a suit of his own, very unfamiliar with the gear as he doesn't dive with Mers. Bruce is on the phone and standing by Clark, looking more and more concerned as the situation develops.

When Damian bursts in, Dick startles and looks up at him, fumbling with the clasp on his flipper.

"Dami, go ahead and get a suit on. We need you to — DAMIAN!"

He doesn't think. Doesn't stop to listen to whatever Clark's rambling on about. Doesn't wait for permission before he kicks his shoes off, takes a running start, and dives into the tank in his plainclothes. He pedals his arms and kicks his feet as hard as he can and goes down, down, down, deeper into your vast tank and towards your favorite resting place. The effort is tremendous without the slim, hydrodynamic suit to aid him and a rebreather to allow him to stay down here for long periods of time. He pushes past it all and keeps going. You are in trouble and he is going to help you.

When he makes it to the spire and swims around to the entrance, he immediately sees the issue. Your body is curled into the mer version of fetal position; your arms are locked around your waist in an embrace and your tail is coiled underneath you in a tight spiral, twisted around itself and wedging you deeply into the cramped space. The angle of your body, coupled with the tight spacing of the hideaway, make it nearly impossible to pull you out.

In the wild, a mer found in this position is an almost universal signifier that they are near death.

If there's no intervention, you are going to die today.

Damian climbs into the spire with you, squeezing his body inside with a low grunt. A burst of bubbles escape from his mouth. If he can't pull you out — a dangerous move which would damage your tail and break your fins if they tried — he has to unfold you.

His back scrapes against the bricks and pain rockets down his spine. Another bunch of bubbles fly out. He grits his teeth and starts carefully pushing at you, gingerly moving your upper half, then your lower half, around and around and around to create enough space to safely push you free.

His chest is heaving. Damian is exhausted and quickly running out of breath. He cannot stop. If he stops, you won't make it.

He jerks when something jabs his ankle, arms wrapping protectively around you as his head snaps down to see what happened.

Jon is hovering just by the spire opening, holding a rebreather in his hand and shaking it insistently at him.

Damian reaches around you and makes a few grabs at it, finally curling his fingers around the device and pushing it into his mouth. He clicks the button to turn it on and almost coughs when oxygen starts to flow into his lungs. He slumps against you briefly, taking in your closed eyes and face twisted into agony.

What happened, he thinks. How did this happen to you, Princess?

His ankle is jabbed again. Damian looks back at Jon, who has his hands out in an offer of help. Damian gently starts to maneuver you around again, slowly but steadily unfolding your body, and when Jon catches on, helps do the same thing from your opposite side.

It is painstaking work. Dick eventually gets into the water to join in, but there's no room for him, so he hovers to the side ready to help carry your body to the surface when you're finally free.

It feels like it takes hours, but can't be more than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes too long in Damian's opinion. Eventually, your body is unwound enough to ease you out of the spire without injury, and the three men rush you to the surface where Clark and four other vets are waiting to take you. It becomes a flurry of activity after that.

Damian spits out the rebreather when his feet are back on solid ground. He pants and doubles over, limbs shaking from exertion, and watches the medical team assess your condition and fret over you. You're loaded onto a special stretcher and whisked from the room, and he's about to follow suit when a hand clasps over his wrist.

"No," he rasps, already gearing up the breath to scream at his father, but Bruce just shakes his head and presses a towel into his hands.

"Here," he says, voice soft and knowing. "Here, Tadpole. I just want you to get dry before you follow them into the medical bay. You can't help anybody if you get sick."

Damian clutches it, staring at his father with no small amount of trepidation. Bruce just sighs.

"I'm sorry, Damian. I am. We'll talk about it later, but I won't separate you two again. You have my word." He jerks his head toward the doors. "Go dry off and change in the locker room. I'll call Medical and tell them to let you in when you're done."

Damian throws his arms around Bruce, uncaring about how he's soaking his dad. Evidently Bruce doesn't care either, if the fierceness in which he hugs him back is any indication.

"Thank you," Damian whispers, then pulls away to head to the lockers.

[girlokwhatever]

reguest idea: would u wanna write smth when reader does hickeys to paige and paiges teamates see them and start teasing her? with the smut??

𝄞˚˖.🎀༘⋆·˚ ༘₊·➳‧₊* ‧₊ marks of my love,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

“shit-”

you’re straddling paige, grinding down on her as you glide your lips down her neck. you suck starting behind her ear, trailing marks of your love along her body. the dark purple hue glows almost immediately and you pull back to admire your girlfriend. hickeys scatter her neck, chest, and shoulders.

“s’pretty paigey. wanna fuck you so bad.”

“please baby..”

within a second you’re between her legs, pushing them apart. your lips attach to her thighs like second nature, sucking and licking until you’re satisfied with the deep purple hue. she’s moaning, hand in your hair with a tight grasp.

“don’t tease-”

she doesn’t have time to finish her statement because you’re pulling away from her skin with a pop. you roll your eyes at being rushed but your cheeks are flushed from her desperation. you grab her boxers, pulling them down her legs before returning to your original spot. she places both hands on the back of your head now, pulling you into her cunt with force. you accept it and enjoy it, reveling in the taste of your girlfriend.

you both moan at the same time, the first touch almost too much for either of you. your breathy moan sends shivers up her spine and shocks her clit, making her body jolt slightly. she immediately pulls you closer, shoving your face into her wetness. it’s coating your chin and nose and you don’t even care. you suck and lick every since of skin you can reach, moaning out about how good she tastes.

you push your tongue into her, feeling the ecstasy from the way her body sucks you in. working on her weeping hole with your tongue, you find importance with your hands by toying with her clit. paige praises you, egging you on as your final touch and lick sends her spiraling over the edge. her body melts beneath yours, going limp with the aftershock of her orgasm. you take the moment to suck your last hickey on her hip, kissing it and lifting your lips to her own.

within seconds she’s up, pulling you against the mattress as she sinks down onto you, letting her desire to please you take over.

paige is absolutely sweating, watching as the majority of her shots swish through the basket. she’s not aware that the makeup she used to cover her hickeys was beginning to fade, sweat washing it all away.

no one has noticed yet, including paige. she gets everyone’s attention, betting that she can make the shot from half court. everyone on the other side of the floor is getting in on it, too far away to notice your marks of love lingering on paige.

paige sets up for the shot, everyone pulling their phones out and getting closer. the basketball flies from her hand, hitting the backboard and going straight into the basket. everyone cheers, kk jumping up and down as she lessens the distance between herself and her friend.

“paige.. OH MY GOSH! PAIGE HAS A HICKEY YALL- WAIT.. SHE HAS LIKE THREE”

paige’s eyes widen in shock, hand immediately coming up to her neck. sure enough, she sees the transfers of the now liquid cover up transfer to her hand. her face is beet red, wrapping her hands around her neck. she’s certainly not ashamed, but she’s definitely embarrassed because now all of her friends know what you and paige do when they’re not around.

“alright alright- that’s enough.” paige is blushing bashfully with the largest grin adorning her features.

everyone’s shoving their phone in her face, trying to wedge her hands away from her neck. paige jogs away from everyone, trapping herself in the locker room until everyone else arrives. she wants to call you and tell you how horrendous this situation is, but kk, ice, and nika have already shoved their way through the door. paige isn’t aware that sitting down has made her shorts ride up, revealing some of the numerous hickeys on her thighs.

“the legs too paige? you guys are freaky.” nika speaks with a smirk on her face, making kk and ice double over in their laughter. she takes a seat next to paige, patting her back.

your girlfriend gives up on trying to hide the marks, letting her arms fall to her side before she stands up to change out of her workout clothes. when she lifts her shirt off, everyone’s jaws drop. all her hickeys are nearly revealed now, the deep purple and red adorning her skin.

“just say yall are jealous.” paige shrugs, holding back her laughter. the three other girls are giving each other looks like ‘yeah, she’s right.’ none of them miss the way you and paige look at each other, like you’d both pull the moon down for the other.

“ok girly. it looks like someone beat the shit out of you.”

“whatever.”

“yall must really be getting it on good. was it good-”

kk runs off, paige hot on her trail. all of them had been teasing her too long about it, especially kk. kk screams as she runs and paige gives up on following. her heart swells with pride now, knowing that you’re proud to call her your girlfriend. you must be, considering you’re always so desperate to litter her skin with your marks of love.

·˚ ༘。･:*:･✧* ੈ✩‧₊˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!

it’s short yall sorry

[eringobragh420]

♣️ Pairing — Damian Priest ♥︎ f!Reader (no use of y/n) ♥︎ Roman Reigns ♣️ Summary — Reader has been sleeping with both Damian and Roman Reigns, confident they’re ignorant of one another. After being invited to Damian's hotel room late one night, she discovers he’s not the only one she’s there to entertain. ♣️ Word Count — 2.4k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v/a, anal, double penetration, praise, Daddy kink, name-calling, cum 18+ ♣️ Taglist — In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! ♣️ Requested By — @bearbutlikeprincessbear. Hope you enjoy! ♣️ MASTERLIST, KINK LIST

When she first began sleeping with Roman Reigns, she never expected, had any interest, or even needed to seek out other suitors. Until Damian Priest came along at the club, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her to the dance floor where their bodies moved in synchronicity, their skin perspired, and he whispered the absolute filthiest things in her ear as she was grinding her hips into his. And so while entertaining Roman, she made the easy decision to also see Damian on the side. Nothing wrong with it—none of them were attached and none of them were interested in long-term relationships—so she never foresaw any issues, considering the Tribal Chief was on one brand and the Archer of Infamy was on another, which would give them no reason to ever cross paths. Unfortunately for her, she’d been so blinded by the all the fucking, she’d failed to consider the paid live events.

And so here she was, on her knees and elbows on a generic hotel bed with generic, scratchy hotel blankets under her. Her baby pink blazer and white satin tank top were heaps on the floor, matching mini-skirt bunched around her waist, panties in tatters around her thighs. Damian’s long cock buried itself in her tight cunt every few seconds, the momentum shoving her forward and impaling her throat further on Roman’s spit-covered, thick cock. She gagged, body convulsing, but she purred from the intrusion—on both ends—as her eyes rolled back and her cheeks hollowed.

“Fuck,” Damian wailed, hands vices on her hips. “Every time she gags, her cunt fuckin’ milks my dick.”

“You hear that, baby girl?” Roman rumbled. He was seated in front of her, back against the headboard, legs spread lewdly, a woman receiving the pounding of the century from behind slobbering all over his cock. She tilted her head so she could comfortably look up at him. “He likes it when you gag almost as much as I do.” Both his hands cradled the back of her skull as he pushed her down on his length once more, her entire being again contracting, and suddenly Damian wasn’t inside her anymore and she felt abandoned and empty and a little fucking pissed off. 

“Uh-uh,” the Puerto Rican refused. She pulled off Roman’s dick, however reluctantly, and glanced over her shoulder. Damian had backed up several steps and he had a hand virtually strangling his polished-with-pussy-juices cock. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Roman tenderly cupped her chin between his fingers and turned her face back to him. “You ready?”

She cast her gaze down at Roman’s weeping, rigid cock as he stroked it with a loose fist, and she bucked her hips and clenched her pussy around nothing. Roman’s chuckle was like thunder in the distance, and it did nothing to suppress her agitation or prevent the baby pterodactyls in her stomach from taking flight. She had no idea what awaited her, having never experienced before what was about to happen, but she couldn’t deny how bad she wanted to at least try it … to at least attempt to get both these impressive cocks inside her ass and pussy at the same time. And she couldn’t think of two better men to experience it with. Her blown pupils slowly lifted to meet Roman’s.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Good,” Roman replied, before the declaration was even completely out of her mouth. He leaned forward so his fleshy lips grazed hers as he finished, “Because it’s this dick right here that’s goin’ in that ass.” He wiggled his cock for good measure, and it wasn’t very quiet when she gulped.

The men were fluid as they moved about the room, as if they’d practiced, as if maybe they’d done this before. Heading off any thoughts in that particular direction, she smiled as she climbed atop Damian. His grip was once again on her hips, and her hips throbbed and she might’ve winced a time or two when he squeezed, but she knew this pain paled in comparison to the new kind of pain that was in her immediate future. She sank torturously slowly onto his cock, her soaking pussy sucking him in deep much like her throat had with Roman’s dick.

“There she is,” Damian breathed, fingers gliding from her hip, tickling her belly, scraping a nipple barely peeking above the cup of the bra she still curiously wore, ending their journey at the back of her neck. He pulled her lips to his, capturing them, imprisoning them with his expert technique and unmatched ability to be both delicate and voracious simultaneously. A cold trickle slipped down the crack of her ass, her body froze, and she severed the kiss. Damian was quick to cradle her face and focus her attention on him and not the pain and discomfort about to befall her. Maybe you should stop thinking about it that way. Maybe it’s gonna feel amazing. It’s Damian and Roman, after all. “If you don’t wanna do this, we can stop right now,” Damian whispered, the tips of their noses kissing.

She gazed into his smoldering eyes, easily finding comfort and true sincerity, and her hand floated to his cheek. “I wanna do this,” she murmured.

Damian once more claimed her mouth while Roman’s finger circled her puckered hole, and it tickled and it was a little weird, but then it felt … good. Incredibly erotic, and her pussy gushed around Damian’s cock. He pumped in and out of her slowly, occupying her mouth and tongue, and before she knew it, Roman had three fingers buried in her asshole, and she was virtually screaming down Damian’s throat, rocking her hips to ride both his dick and Roman’s digits.

“Oh, your ass is ready for this cock, ain’t it?” Roman teased, easing his fingers out of her so he could slap her ass cheek with his length. “Cute little tattoo,” he uttered, now rubbing the leaking head along her sensitive skin, and she knew exactly where he was spreading his precum. She’d never even imagined a scenario where Roman and Damian randomly met at the hotel bar, shared a few drinks, and then a few stories about the women they were sleeping with only to discover those women had the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot, but here they were. “Let’s find out if it’s true, huh?” That hadn’t been the meaning behind the beautiful red script spelling out the word paradise on her right cheek, but she supposed it did seem appropriate now. She hoped, anyway.

She felt the fleshy head of his cock poke at her entrance and her hand left Damian’s face to instead dig her nails into his chest. She felt blood before she was without warning hauled backward, shoulders slamming into Roman’s sturdy chest, and she cried out as he slipped further into her passage. Roman was a true dominant, in and out of the ring, in and out of the bedroom, so it wasn’t very far fetched for her to expect to be degraded, at least a little, for not immediately being able to take his length, or for whining in pain as he pressed another inch inside her. His tattooed arm came into view, fingers applying surprisingly gentle pressure on her chin until she turned to him.

“You’re takin’ me so good,” he praised. Her eyes lifted, full of renewed hope,  determination, and pride. Compliments in a non-derisive way were few and far between, and she intended to bathe in the accolades for as long as possible. “I know it hurts, baby girl, but you’re a fuckin’ champion. You hear me? Our champion.” Her heart swelled and her fingers unconsciously slid down her body and directly into her dripping folds where she found her clit and, just a little further inward, the base of Damian’s glazed cock, the rest of which was still stuffed deeply inside her cunt. Damian grunted and squirmed, and her smile was drunk as she stared blankly at her Tribal Chief, hypnotized by Roman’s unusual softness. “See, that was nothin’.”

Snapping out of her reverie, she was overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly full. Roman had genuinely mesmerized her with his words, with the bottomless pits that were his eyes, and he’d sheathed himself to the hilt in her ass without her noticing. Now fully aware, however, the burning returned, the splitting, and she whimpered, clawing at Roman’s arm now. Easily noticing her stress, Damian untangled her from the Samoan’s embrace and pulled her back down to him, cradling the back of her head and splaying a hand across her upper back.

“Right here,” he rumbled into her gaping mouth, “stay right here with Papi. You hear me?”

She nodded, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Damian’s soulful ones, and her lips collided with his before she knew it. He was her comfort, her weighted blanket, her favorite teddy bear, and the spell he cast on her through his lingering lips kept her mind occupied as Roman gripped her hips, pulled out, and shoved himself back in as if he were fucking her pussy. It hurt, bordering on agonizing, but Damian’s mouth was so perfect and gifted that it hurt just a little bit less, the three of them going on like this until she’d fully accepted Roman with an amount of pain that was both uncomfortable and pleasurable. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Roman panted. When she gave no answer, he snatched her hair and yanked, her lips releasing Damian’s with a wet smack.

“Yes, Daddy, I love it,” she breathed.

“Yeah, you do,” Roman mumbled. “Show me. Ride these dicks like the whore you are.”

Hands on the bed on either side of Damian, she rose until her elbows locked. Damian’s hands were coarse and callused as they traveled the invisible roads of her upper body, and she smiled down at him as she began gently rocking her hips, drawing the cocks within her ass and pussy as deep inside her as possible before releasing them to the cold air surrounding them, repeating the process until she couldn’t bounce fast enough on them. 

“That’s it,” Damian moaned, “just like that.”

“Shit, all you need is a cock for this mouth, huh?” Roman mocked, giant hand wrapping around her throat. “What you think about that, Priest? Plug up all this bitch’s holes.”

“Fuck,” Damian muttered, pinching and tugging at her nipples.

She screamed, jaw dropping, and Roman’s hand was swift in making the relocation from her neck to her face, long fingers dipping inside her mouth. Her lips automatically closed around his digits and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked because what else is a girl supposed to do when Roman Reigns sticks his fingers in her mouth?

Time went on, doused in a mixture of sweat, screams, desire, and the fundamental need to cum. Roman lost control first, hand between her shoulder blades, shoving her chest into Damian’s, and he leaned forward, most of his weight now on her hips and ass as he fucked into her recklessly. He cried out—she thought he was speaking Samoan, but she couldn’t be sure—releasing himself inside her, and his pumps became slower and less powerful until he pulled out altogether, slapping her tattoo once more with his softening dick.

“Y’all can … take care of that, right?” He had to be referring to the mess he’d just made that would eventually come leaking out of her. “I got somewhere to be.”

The relief alone she felt when only Damian was buried within her nearly sent her head first into an orgasm. It had been a wild moment, an experience she could check off her bucket list, but she’d be lying if she denied feeling a bit stressed at the thought of being responsible for pleasing two men. Of course it was a hot idea, but realistically, the logistics were a bit more muddled than she cared to deal with again. And, though she would never admit this to anyone, especially the two men involved, she preferred Damian and his attentiveness and his kindness and the gentle fucking he was famous for. Roman was the choice when she needed to be used or slapped around. Damian was the choice for everything else.

“We’ll take care of it,” Damian mumbled, and she smiled just as he seized her lips once more. 

She hardly registered the hotel room door opening and closing, Damian flipping their positions smoothly, putting her on her back and settling between her sticky thighs. Her hands glided reverently up his chest, squeezing his shoulders, continuing to his face.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, taking her hands off him one after the other, imprisoning them between his hands and the mattress on either side of her head, his grip secure, though not constricting.

“Yeah,” she purred, rolling her hips in an attempt to find some friction, and Damian grinned at her desperation. 

“But you need your special time with Papi, hmm?”

“I always need my special time with Papi.”

Finally he started fucking her, lazily at first, gradually picking up speed. She suddenly felt Roman’s warm cum begin leaking out of her ass and into a puddle on the bed, Damian’s thrusts now coming with a wet smack every time he slammed into her. She gasped, lips parting, pussy pulsating around Damian’s solid length, breasts bouncing, and she came with a wail she would be embarrassed over later. Her hands were fists as they wanted nothing more than to touch Damian, feel him, run her fingers through his hair, but he refused to release her until after he’d filled yet another one of her holes with sticky cream.

“You’re a mess,” Damian grinned, climbing out of bed. She couldn’t help the satiated smile and stretch as she watched Damian disappear into the bathroom, assuming he was on a mission to retrieve a wet washcloth. They were gonna need more than that, she thought, just as she heard the water in the tub come to life, and her smile nearly broke her mouth. “Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Damian returned, clapping his hands and holding them out. She rolled her eyes, moving into a sitting position, but Damian suddenly scooped her into his capable arms, tossing her an inch or two in the air to get a better grip. “I don’t think it’s big enough for both of us, but …”

“I guess you’ll just have to wash me from outside the tub then,” she sighed.

Damian kissed her forehead. “My pleasure.”

જ⁀➴°⋆ Papi — Daddy

[v1x3n]

H A T E S E X

satoru gojo x reader ⸝⸝ navigation kinktober masterlist

୨୧ synopsis : you go down to satorus dorm to shout at him for a rumour you knew he spread round, who knew that it would end up with your legs spread??

୨୧ tags : smut - hate fucking (obvi), spanking (once), degrading, hair pulling, choking, praise, slight breeding kink mention, unprotected, p in v, cumming inside, perv!satoru, pantie stealing.

“Shut the..fuck up” you groan, pushing satoru into the door as you two angrily kiss, his hands fall down to your waist, gripping harshly onto youre skin as he moans into your mouth. His tongue forces itself into your mouth while your hands move to his chest, slipping down his covered body. 

You whine when he swings you around by the waist, shoving your back into the door, replacing him, “make me?” he suggests, grunting, his deep voice sending heat straight down to your weeping pussy. Satoru pulls on the buttons of your shirt and huffs, the heat of the moment making him unable to concentrate on undoing them so instead he rips it open, buttons fall to the floor and you gasp at the air hitting your chest. Breaking the kiss and he almost growls, his large hand grips tightly onto your left breast, he holds it over your bra and his mouth moves down your neck, you moan at the teeth that nip onto your sensitive skin. Hands wrapping around his shoulders and your fingers move up into his hair, twirling the strands around. 

His hips pin yours against the door and you feel his boner covered by his pants rub against your stomach. His eyes meet with yours as he breathes heavily, needing a minute to let himself have a breath. “Fucking hell” satoru groans, pulling his face closer to yours, feeling his hot breath on your face, you close your eyes, he grinds his hard on into your stomach and he whines. Yeah, he fucking whines. 

How the fuck did you even end up here? 

What happened was, you were pissed, beyond belief. He had been teasing you and testing you all fucking year, you and him barely spoke before that. Petty fights, mean comments and times where you ended in the hospital were normal for the two of you. He would snicker with his friends, looking towards you, you could hear your name pop out the conversation, their - well mostly satoru - voices grew louder when they - he - realised you heard. 

Satoru was coming up to you, mocking you for everything and anything, it pissed you off, he was so fucking annoying and you started hating him more each time he did something.

So anyways, you had stormed into his dorm after you heard a rumour about yourself spread around, the cute rumour was that you had slept with one of the teachers to get higher grades. Bull fucking shit. As soon as you heard the gross rumour you knew who had said it, who else would even think of shit as gross as that? Who else would hate you enough to even bother? 

But as soon as you storm into his dorm, luckily for you he had forgotten to lock his door, satoru jolts up and a pair of panties fall from his bed, landing on the floor. You scowl at this disgusting man, your eyes move from the piece of fabric to the man on the bed. “What the fuck!” you grumble, loud enough for him to hear you but quiet enough for it to not be classed as shouting. “Ugh why are you here” satoru groans, standing up from his bed and bending down to grab the lace underwear. You take the chance he looks away to look over at him, his white shirt slightly scruffy, his sleeves rolled up - showing off his biceps as they flex, his black trousers slim to his muscular legs, his tie which was forgotten on the floor and his messy hair which made him look like he had just woke up. Despite you hating him you couldn't deny that he was attractive. 

Maybe you thinking that he was attractive got to your head because not even 10 minutes later your face was smushed up against his bedroom door, your skirt flipped up, showing off your plush arse and your smooth thighs, most of your clothes forgotten about on the floor. Shirt ripped apart on the floor, bra hanging off of the door knob of his bedroom door - right beside you as he smacks your arse and finally your panties ripped apart and discarded somewhere. Your tight cunt on display for him as he bends your position. His hard length bounces in and out of your pussy at a speed which was brutal. Satorus grip on your head as he shoves your cheek into the wooden door was making wetness grow down below, all of his movements were rough. Was this just how he was during sex or was it because you two hated each other? 

“Fuck!” he groans, the free hand of his tightly grabbing your waist, helping his sloppy movements grow steady (ish). Your moans quietened as you realise if anyone passed in the halls they would probably hear the squelching and the moans coming him inside satorus room, and what would be even worse is if they heard your voice. Way to beat the slut allegations, huh?

Your teeth clung onto your bottom lip, trying to stop the loud noises that spew out of your mouth, satorus cock slung in and out of you slowly, clearly teasing you. “This what you wanted? Huh?” he almost chokes out as his hips jitter, “wanted me t’ treat ya like the- hah- slut you are?” he whispers, it seemed like he wasn't even speaking to you at this point. His voice was barely audible, he knew you heard him each time he spoke due to your sweet cunt clenching around his aching cock everytime he muttered something disgusting. “Fuck!” he groans, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you back, your arch growing slightly straighter as he forces your face closer to him.

He whispers in your ear, “so fucking good” you mewl at his praise while his hand moves from around a clump on your hair to around your neck then it holts, staying in that spot. His grip grows stronger as he chokes you lightly. You felt a wet splotch splat onto the back of your neck, before you could react then a tongue licked it up from you, licking your sensitive flesh and biting softly, your moans louden at his actions. The pace of his hips picked up, the new position had your knees buckling, nearing the edge.

Your walls clench against him, your mind removing all thoughts and clearing into a blank void as your breath hitches with his every thrust. Your mind focusing on everything going on for just a second. 

His rough grunts with every drag of his cock. 

His tightening balls hitting off you.

His harsh grip on your hip that would leave bruises.

His hand around your throat, slowly tightening as he got closer to cumming.

Your mind refocuses on the known pain deep in your stomach as he grinds into you, trying to reach further than before and luckily for him - he could get deeper. your eyes squeeze tight together as he hits the small part in you that made you squeal and whine every time someone touched it.

The man that you swore you hated 's cock filled you up so good, your brain was only thinking about him, he had done it, fucked you dumb. And he knew it, “not fucking speaking no more?” he huffs into your ear before licking your ear lope, biting the flesh. You whine out, “s-satoru..” barely heard, a light whisper of his name. 

His cock deep in you almost spasms in your cunt at you mewling his name, he wanted this for so long. I mean what was it all for? The teasing, the crude comments, the rumours? All he wanted was this. He wanted your tight cunt wrapped around him, he wanted your soft moans dripping from your mouth, he wanted to cum so deep inside of you so that you could feel it for days, he wanted to constantly fuck his sperm into you, see you swell with a round stomach and it all being his fault.

Satoru thrusts deep into your arm cunt, his eyebrows knit together when the coil far into your stomach twists and twists - begging to unwind. “Please” you beg for nothing, your gasps hitch when his hips shift just slightly and his balls slap against your neglected clit, “please!” whining as satorus movements slow, wanting to fully hear your begging. “It's okay, you're oka- ah! You're okay, baby” he coos into your ear, his hand trails from your neck down to the other side of your hips, your body drops back down to the door. Hands gripping onto the wood as he pounds you into it. The thumping of the door sounding out every whine and small grunt. 

A cold breath blows onto your neck as satoru huffs, the wetness from his saliva growing cold on your skin which makes a shiver trail down your body. “Im so close, sosososo close” satorus voice slowly turns unintelligible as his leaking tip kisses your cervix over and over again, “please please, so fucking- fucking close. Let me, p- please” 

Whilst you were cock drunk, he was clearly pussy drunk. 

You nod, not even knowing what you were agreeing to but satoru takes it as a go ahead, a deep, long yet slow drag into your warm pussy, his balls hitting off of your sensitive nub made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. “Oh!” you gasp-moan. 

Satorus grip tight on your waist slips slightly when his movements grow weak, he takes a minute to actually look at you, realising he didn't really take in the full picture yet, he needed to take it to memory because who knows if this was the last time you two would do this. 

Your arched back, your arse that jiggled with every thrust, fuck! Why did he focus so much on your cunt wrapped around him that felt like heaven when he could've been focusing on all of this at the same time. His mind almost goes numb when he hears a guttural moan sound from you when he unexpectedly cums deep inside of you. Filling your insides and spurting into you, you start to become undone on his length right after feeling him squirt his warm liquids into you. You moan, eyes squeezing shut while you squeeze tightly around his dick - almost cutting off the blood circulation. 

“Fuck!” satoru moans heavenly in your ear, your hands try to grip onto the door but due to the door being a solid wall you cannot, “im c- cumming!” you whisper but he still hears your whines.

“Cum f’ me, cmon, shit” his tight hold on your waist becomes looser when he pounds deep into you, his fat tip bouncing off of your cervix again and again, making stars float across your vision. After a few more belts to the cervix, you release on his fat cock, a ring of cum could be seen at the base of his dick. Your legs spasm, going weak and numb, flopping down so the man who slowly pulls his cock out of you when you're done dripping white liquid all over him, he huffs, “h-hah-” you couldnt tell if he was breathing really heavily or laughing, you look up at him as he throws you onto his bed. 

Your eyes wander over him as he grabs your panties from the ground, the ripped fabric bringing a small frown to his face, “well, you aren't gonna be able t’ wear these are you?” satoru hums to himself, you could clearly see him thinking. Then for a second his eyes light up, thinking of an idea. Satorus large hand moves to the pair of panties that had fallen from his bed around half an hour ago when you first came in. he picks them up and shows them off to you, the lace… the fabric… the cute bow…

These look familiar. “Here! Wear these, i needed t’ give them back anyways!” satoru had a disgusting smug grin plastered on his face as he smooths his hand over your legs whilst helping you put on the underwear, “you're gross” you point out, a scowl on your face but satoru could help to find it cute with the droplets of sweat from your forehead and the flushed expression clearly imprinted on your face. 

He helps you put on the panties, that he stole from you, with a stupid smile over his face. “Fucking hell” he chuffly speaks, looking you up and down, satoru winks at you, “you should come by t’ shout at me again”

[splishfish]

Watch (NSFW)

Tomura Shigaraki x AFAB Reader

Tags: Mutual Masturbation, Fingering, Established Relationship, Use of The Word Slut, Slight Dirty Talk, Good girl is Used Once, Crude Tomura

WC: 943

“You…want to watch me jerk off?”

"Yeah."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You…want to watch me jerk off?” “Yeah.” That simple conversation was what led you two where you were now. Sitting in front of Tomura with your legs crossed together, and him manspreading on the bed, his pants strewn somewhere across the floor. His flaccid penis laid on his balls, an unimpressed expression on his face as he watched you stare at him.

“Your dick is cute…” You mumbled, smiling affectionately at his penis.

A scowl formed on his face, and he glared at you as he grumbled out. “It’s not cute. Don’t call it that.”

A small giggle left your lips, and your eyes trailed up to him curiously. “So…are you gonna jerk off?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the base of his cock. He limply wiggled it, muttering. “Show me your tits. I need to get hard.”

You sighed, reaching for the hem of your tanktop and preparing to slide it off when he suddenly stopped you. A look of confusion formed on your face, and he smirked as he spoke.

“No. Like this.” Suddenly, one of his hands grabbed the collar of your top, yanking it down and causing your breasts to spill out and bunch up at the top. You gasped in surprise, shooting a glare at him.

“Seriously?! You’re gonna stretch out my top!” “Shut up. It makes your tits look bigger, so be a good girl and play with ‘em to get me hard.” A scoff escaped your lips, but you didn’t argue. Bringing your hands up to your breasts, you began to gently rub at the softened nubs. You cupped your breasts gently, holding them up as your index fingers drew small circles around them, slowly hardening your nipples into stiff peaks. Once they were hard, you began to slowly pinch and twist them, pulling on the sensitive flesh and letting small muffled noises of pleasure escape your lips.

Your eyes trailed down to his penis, which was slowly beginning to stiffen up. He grabbed the base, pumping his cock at the same pace as your gentle stimulation. He hummed in satisfaction, before speaking again with a casual tone.

“I wanna see your pussy.” “How charming.”

One removal of sweats and underwear later, you sat in bed with Tomura in front of you, and your legs spread wide enough for him to get a good view of your pretty cunt. He groaned once he saw your pretty folds, stroking his cock before pausing. He scrunched his nonexistent eyebrows, before speaking in a puzzled voice. “Why aren’t you wet?” A few minutes of explaining how women aren’t constantly aroused later, Tomura violently fisted himself to the sight of your two fingers snuggly pumping in and out of your pussy. He tilted his head back, a small thunk being heard as his head hit the bed frame. The tip of his cock weeped constantly, precum coating his hand and causing a slick noise to echo through the room. His voice echoed through the room, small moans and cute whines slipping from his chapped lips, a pink hue coating his face and a small sheen of sweat coated his face.

You weren’t any different, two fingers pumping in and out of your now soaked pussy and small moans of pleasure escaping your lips. Hooded eyes locked onto his cock, the red mushroom tip disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of Tomura’s hand. A whiney voice escaped you, muttering in desperation. “Tomu…wanna see you cum…ah…touch your balls for me…please?” A groan of pleasure escaped him, and he squeezed his aching cock as he responded. “Fuck..you’re such a slut…watching me jerk off and telling me to fondle my balls…you like this huh?” You nodded your head, closing your eyes as you brought your second hand up to play with your clit. Small circles rubbed against the throbbing nub, and a loud whine escaped you as you begged in a hoarse voice. “Please…yes…I’m a slut...please..wanna see you cum…” He chuckled weakly, bringing his hand down to squeeze and toy with his balls. He groaned in pleasure, a curse escaping him as he bucked his hips. “Oh fuck…’m gonna cum baby…”

It wasn’t too long after he muttered those words that he squeezed his balls, almost painfully, as he got out rope after rope of cum. It splattered onto his hand, even reaching as far as his shirt, staining it with a white streak. As he panted, still languidly stroking himself, he watched as you finger yourself, desperately attempting to reach your own peak.

Crawling over, he settled besides you, raising your leg up and placing your calf on his shoulder, spreading you wide. A small whine escaped you, and you leaned back to lay on your forearms as he took control. His hand quickly replaced your own, slipping two fingers inside your warmth. A loud moan escaped you, his fingers reaching deeper inside. One of the better things about having Tomura use his hands is how rough they are. His fingers are dry and calloused, scratching your insides in a way that made you curl your toes and scream.

It didn’t take long for him to finally help you reach your climax, your hips bucking up into the air as a broken moan escaped your throat. Your warm heat clenched down on his fingers, causing him to grunt before pulling them out, a string of your arousal sticking to his index and middle finger.

Panting from the blissful experience, you took your leg off his shoulder, before wrapping yourself around him. He grunted before wrapping his arms around you in return, nuzzling his face into your hair.

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aaahh!! I’m slowly figuring out this app! Are the ombré colors cool? ;3

[pasukiyo]

BOUND TO ME

demon!tom riddle x female!reader word count: 3,851 warnings: smut, mirror sex, dub-con, edging, orgasm denial, p in v sex synopsis: there is an entity, a monster, a demon living within her mirror. the mirror, which had found its way into her bedroom above her father's butcher shop peculiarly, is the only place he can be seen, only place he can be felt...

 His whispers slither through her bedroom in the shadows and to her ears, coiling like a python around her throat. 

 She was foolish to think she could ever resist him.

 The evidence of her attempts lie in fragments of broken glass on the floor and when he laughs, she imagines he has the tongue of a serpent, gooseflesh creeping down her arms when he hisses. 

 “Foolish girl,” he whispers in the dark and she shivers because she knows he is here, knows he is close, and knows he is seething. “You thought you could wash your hands of me.”

 She hugs the sheets closer to her chin, squeezes her eyes shut, willing slumber to take her into its arms, thinking maybe it will save her from him. Still, she is cold because he is there and he’s right: she is a fool. She’s foolish for thinking she could will him away in the first place. Foolish for thinking smashing the mirror, his portal into her world was enough to keep him away. 

 “You severely underestimate me, and your stupidity will be your demise. You think there is anywhere in the world you can be where I won’t find you? I am always with you. You are bound to me,” she recalls him once saying into the night, many moons ago. “Besides, let’s face it: this tether between us turns you on. You lie to yourself every time you think you do not want me, and your body proves you wrong every time.”

 Her teeth chatter inside her mouth and she has to sink them into the inside of her cheeks to quell the noise. All is quiet in her bedroom but she knows he must be there, looming, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He is a basilisk— and she knows how perfectly she will break for him, should he so much as breathe on her. 

 She is vulnerable now, in her nightgown, doing her very best to not weep while she clutches the bedsheets to her chin, praying sleep will take her away. She is entirely too weak, too feeble to be trusted, should he come closer, should she feel his breath rolling like smoke down her flesh, should he touch her. Even now, her body aches to betray her. 

 Remember how well he pleases you, a low, oily voice sounds from somewhere within. A dent forms between her brows and her breath shakes, lips trembling. You long to be touched, even now. Look at you, already dripping from the mere thought of being taken. 

 She squeezes her thighs closer together, trying to rid herself of the ache at her center as if to prove her own body wrong. 

 She does not want this. She does not want him. 

 And yet…

 “And yet, here you lay, wishing for some silly mercy, thinking it will keep me away.”

 She nearly leaps from her skin at the voice, her eyes snapping open as she pushes herself upright. She pants, glancing wide-eyed around her bedroom, searching for him, for any trace there could be. The only thing that moves is her heaving chest and the curtains over her window, blowing wistfully in the wind. 

 She trembles, following the moonlight to where it shines on the floor, on the shattered remains of her mirror. She presses her lips together and inhales, trying to reassure herself that she is safe, that he cannot get to her now, his only gateway being broken. He cannot harm her now. He cannot break her with his touch, for not even a fingernail will scratch her, not even his breath will grace her skin. 

 Her eyes flutter closed and she takes another deep breath and when her eyes open again, there is nothing in her darkened bedroom save for the moonlight. 

 She is safe. She has nothing to fear. She is alone but she is safe. She is safe. She has nothing to fear. 

 It is eerily silent, save now for her soft murmurings of assurances beneath her breath as she settles back down into her mattress, slowly pulling the sheets back to her chest. She tries to tame her uneasy heart, staring into the moonlit wooden ceiling above and when she believes she is ready, she closes her eyes, praying again that sleep will come. 

 Please. Let sleep come. 

 She thinks for a moment she must really, truly be at peace when she hears nothing irregular, nothing to warrant terror. She puckers her lips and blows one more spout of air out before she allows herself to relax further into the bed. Certainly sleep should come a little easier now. 

 Snickering.

 Her eyelids snap back open when she hears his snickering, curling like vines around her ears, its thorns piercing through her skin. Her heart pounds against her chest and she pushes herself upright again, searching her bedroom for him. Still, everything is as it was before, everything down from the dark ceiling to the dresser to the curtains billowing in the wind to the shards of—

 Her lips press themselves together and tremble, her eyes widening and limbs shaking as she peers down to the shards of glass scattered along the floor. She sees him there, broken fragments of his face but he is there and he is laughing at her, mocking her for her sheer stupidity. 

 “You are even more of a fool than I initially took you for,” he snickers and she whimpers, shaking, unable to move. “I told you your stupidity would be your end.”

 She watches in a mixture of horror and anticipation as the fractured pieces of glass on the floor move, little pieces coming together in the wooden frame of the mirror, now sat upright. The last thing she sees is his stare, his wickedly dangerous stare fragmented by cracks in the glass before she closes her eyes, unable to face what will come next. 

 She hears scraping against the floor and then nothing— everything goes still again, as if she’s alone, as if he is not there. 

 She would not fall for her own stupidity again. He is there. She knows it. She’s uncertain whether he’s close or far but he is just there, existing in the same space she is. 

 She presses her lips tighter together, her eyes remaining closed, her heart stuttering in her chest. All she hears now is her own breath and her uneasy heart but still, she does not open her eyes. 

 And then a hiss, just like a python’s, coils around her neck, around her throat, circling all the way back to her ears, “your fate rests with me. You belong to me, you are bound to me. Do not resist your desire— it calls to me while you weep, proclaiming you do not want me.”

 A fingertip against her throat is what makes her eyes snap open. She yelps when his hand locks around her throat, her own instinctively reaching for him. He leans in close behind her and there, at the base of her bed sits the mirror and there is where he is, looming behind her like a shadow, dark face split with a wicked grin.

 “You feel it now already, don’t you?” He hisses into her ear before his lips graze her neck and her lips fall apart, gasping for the air he’s stolen from her lungs. 

 She is at his mercy, quite literally in the palms of his hands, her fate his to break and mend as he pleases. It’s terrifying— and yet, a part of her finds it equally electrifying, teetering on the edge between peril and pleasure. She curses herself, condemns herself for how easily she is swayed, how easily she is broken. 

 Perhaps this is solely the reason why the mirror found her, why it chose her, why he chose her. She is weak. She is ungrounded. She’s a masochist in every sense of the word, despite how desperately she’s tried to deny it. She’s in love with the way he makes her feel, in love with the way he talks to her, touches her, takes her. It’s painful, it’s humiliating, it is blasphemy, is what it is, her desire for her demon. 

 Tom is her shame, he is everything about herself she wished to forget and wished to unbecome. He must have sensed this, all those moons ago when his mirror found its place into her tiny bedroom above her father’s butcher shop. He sensed this ruthlessness, this ferality, this desire she’s kept stowed away that’s been bursting at the seams, eager to be unleashed and he did just that, giving her an outlet to indulge in all her darkest of fantasies. 

 Really, what he is doing should be seen as a mercy, a gift. 

 Nobody could ever please her the way Tom does, after all. 

 “You desire me already, don’t you?” He purrs with a voice as slick as oil, dripping with derision. She watches the mirror, shivering as his hand drops from her throat and she gasps for air as he traces a path from her collarbone to her chest with the tip of his forefinger, skirting the neckline of her nightgown. She feels it and it is there, existing in her mirror yet, he is not quite there in her world. Her wide-eye gaze fixes on the mirror, her only way of knowing who and what it is making her feel this way.

 “Here. You feel it here,” he whispers, that fingertip of his tracing a circle around the peaked nipple over the top of her gown, right over her stuttering heart. It beats for him and he knows it, can feel it beneath his finger. She watches through the mirror as a corner of Tom’s lips curve in a smirk, his hungry stare finding hers through the glass. 

 “And you feel it…” he trails off, the fingernail of that forefinger suddenly no longer human, but a talon, like the sharp claw of a crow and he uses it to tear a line from the center of her neckline, all the way down to her skirt. She yelps, looking down at her bodice as her gown rips at the hand of an invisible force and it is not until she feels his warm palm against the bottom of her belly, dangerously close to where she burns most for him. “…here as well.”

 He presses down on her belly, not much but enough to have her teetering on the edge of utter madness, muscles locked in anticipation. She tosses her head back and Tom snickers again as she whimpers, feeling herself pulse where she wants, no, needs him most. He rubs circles into the flesh below her belly, inching closer to her core agonizingly slow, nearly enough to tip her over the brink of insanity. 

 “How greedy you become, by the mere touch of my hand– the hand of a monster, as you put it, yes?” He sneers, his breath rolling like smoke down along the expanse of her neck. She peers back up at the mirror, watching as he dips his mouth to her collarbone, feeling his breath, his lips as they graze against her skin. It sends shivers slithering down the coil of her spine and now she knows her basilisk has her under his spell now.

 Her chest heaves against his arm as Tom teases her, his fingertip stroking back and forth along the bottom of her belly. He clicks his tongue, almost pitiably when he pulls his hand away and she whimpers, nerves uneasy due to the lack of his touch. 

 “But that’s not all you want, is it?” He whispers coolly into the space between them, his voice rolling over her skin and leaving chills in its wake. She glances back to the mirror, watching his dark gaze as it disappears behind her head, reappearing on the other side of her face. She feels him breathe against her other ear, her lips trembling, her core aching. “You long to be burned from within, to be branded, for me to take what is rightfully mine and mark you so even dear old dad will know of your treachery.”

 Tears that have since merely pooled in the bottom of her sockets begin to shed, drop after drop sliding down her cheeks as she tries to find a balance between her fear and desire. She knows she will not be able to resist him, not tonight, but she still has some sense of honor. She will not be weak. She will face him with courage, however little. 

 Tom sneers at this. He clicks his tongue again, “poor thing. Is that not what you want? To be claimed for everyone to see?” He asks, the tip of his finger drawing circles in the valley between her breasts. She shudders beneath his touch but still, she hardens her gaze, mustering enough courage to meet his dark, melting stare. The corners of his lips curve and he chuckles, “bold little thing. You wish to be fucked.”

 His hand finds her chin and she yelps as his fingertips press down into her cheeks. He forces her gaze to lock on his through the mirror and she watches as his other hand slashes clean through the rest of her nightgown, leaving her completely exposed. The moonlight glistens on her skin as his hand forces her thighs apart, her sex glistening crudely in the starlight. 

 “Look at this,” he snickers, dipping his middle and forefinger between her thighs, brushing against her slit, enough to coat them evenly in her slick. Her toes curl and she gasps, tossing her head back where it bumps into his shoulder. “So ready to be tamed. Bred, potentially.”

 She thinks she will die from anticipation. It started as a simple flame, kindled in the pit of her belly but it has since blossomed into a blazing inferno, strong enough to make her feel like she is melting from the inside out. His graces against her skin were little bits of coal plunging into the depths of her inferno and she erupted in turn, like a volcano breaking from its dormancy. 

 Tom brings his fingers, covered with the evidence of her desire, to her lips, forcing them into her mouth and she moans around them, swirling her tongue greedily, like a starved wolf around them. He breathes and it sounds more like a growl, dropping the hand gripping her chin to slap her aching clit, her body jolting as if struck by a crack of lightning. 

 “Yes,” he purrs. “So desperate to be filled. I wonder though, will this greedy cunt of yours be ready for my cock?”

 She merely stares at him, hoping her look is pleading enough for him. 

 He snickers. 

 She swallows as he pulls his fingers away from her mouth. 

 “I believe you are fully capable of speaking,” he sneers. “So use your words.”

 Her mouth opens and closes, her mind numb, void of anything that does not involve impurity. She blinks helplessly at her own reflection, brows knitting when she finds her gaze again. He clicks his tongue, “pity. I cannot give you what you want if you do not ask for it.”

 Her mouth suddenly feels dry, the words she tries to muster like sandpaper against her throat and tongue. Her cheeks burn in shame as she tries to say something, to produce any sort of sound. 

 “I—“

 “Nicely,” he interrupts, his voice like a crack of thunder in her otherwise still bedroom. “Ask me nicely.”

 She purses her lips, willing herself to breathe, at least, she best she’s able to manage. The tip of Tom’s forefinger circles mindlessly just above her clit and it pulses, aches, screams for mercy.

 She swallows down her shame, every ounce of honor left in her. This will have to be mercy enough. 

 “Please,” she begins, her voice ashamedly high, feeble. “I… I need to feel you.”

 Perhaps he hadn’t expected her to relent so easily. Or perhaps he was merely teasing her. 

 She does not feel him and when she looks into the mirror, she does not see him, uncertain if he is even there at all. A cold creeps along her legs, trailing up her hips to her arms where her weary bones catch a chill, locking her in place. She hears nothing but her own breath, her own heart beating against her chest. Her stare locks on the mirror at the foot of her bed because she knows this is not the end— he is still here, a predator in the dark, circling his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. 

 Silence. 

 She thinks a cold perspiration has begun to bead at her forehead. Her brow furrows, the pressure so intense in her head and when she looks at herself in the mirror, she can see the prominent outline of a vein on her forehead. A gasping hiccup escapes her chest as more tears stream down her face, praying this torment will come to an end soon. 

 When will he strike? 

 She hears something move to her left and she yelps, the hair standing erect on her arms and neck but it is only her curtains, blown just a little harder by a sudden strong gust of wind. She wills herself to breathe again, focusing on slow inhales and exhales as she turns again to face the mirror. 

 Before she can even make sense of what she sees, before a gasp or a cry or a scream can reach her tongue, she is pushed forward until her face is smushed against the mattress. She yelps into the bed, feeling her torn nightgown being ripped from her body before she feels something, someone, a force behind her, pressing against her ass. As soon as she feels he is there behind her, she feels the length of him press into her entrance, filling her up with a single primal thrust. 

 Her knuckles bend around her bedsheets and she cries out into her mattress, too muffled to have possibly been heard by anyone outside of her bedroom. She expects there to be pain at her center where she is split open, just barely managing to fit the entire length of him inside of her but all she feels is bliss— burning white hot bliss. 

 “That’s right,” he coos somewhere behind her ear, another angry thrust making her grip the sheets tighter, her fingers on the bed and his long, warm hands gripping her hips being her only anchor. “Lose yourself in me. Forget who you are and think only of me.”

 It is not difficult when her mind is already dough, each seething, primal thrust of his hips against her ass molding her into different shapes, twisting every single thought inside her brain until they are solely his name. 

 Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. 

 “Tom!” She yowls, trying to lift her head from the sheets but being forced back down by his hand gripping the tendrils of her hair, using them as reins to hold her down. 

 “You thought you could rid yourself of me,” he hisses, ramming his cock harder inside of her, bruising that delicate spot so deep inside her where no man ever reached before. “What were you going to do had you succeeded? Hm? Found yourself a husband? Let him have you like this? Let him fuck you full of his little bastards?”

 She’s nothing to say and even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to. All she can think is how good she feels, how well it feels to be so completely and utterly lost in this bliss, to be wrapped around her monster, her demon, her shame’s cock. She can hardly even focus on the words he speaks now. 

 Using the grip he has on her hair, he lifts her head and when he tells her to open his eyes, she can just barely make out his face beside hers through the reflection of the mirror. Her vision is blurry and with each piston of his hips, more stars dot her eyes but she still obeys, unwilling to let go of this pleasure she feels now for even a second. She is just as he says she is— she is greedy, she is ravenous, she is an animal. 

 Perhaps, they are much more alike than she’d care to admit. 

 “Did you think you’d find yourself another man who could make you feel as good as you do now?” Tom asks, his voice dripping with oily derision and she hangs on every word he says, breathing in his voice like a vapor. “There is no one else in this world good enough for you. No other man could do the things I do to you and you know it.”

 He drops her head and it falls pitifully back to the mattress. She cannot find it within herself to muster enough strength to lift it back up so she simply clutches the sheets as each thrust becomes angrier, more feral. 

 “How can you be so stupid?” He growls as he ridicules her, taking her so deeply, so hungrily that she cannot even bring herself to feel shame, her humility never once even crossing her mind. Her eyes roll back and her body is practically limp in his hands, a weak, pliant mess held together by a demon’s cock. 

 She feels so close to the edge she quite literally bursts into tears, soaking the bed sheets beneath her face. Her release is blinding white light that seems so close, a mere arm’s length away. Tom’s growl is like a roar as he spills himself inside of her, so deep she thinks she can feel him in her belly— and it might very well be true. 

 It’s just what she needs to come. She loses control of her body, the trigger of her orgasm the last thing she needs to release. Her finger curls around that trigger but just before she can pull it, his cock is gone, leaving nothing but his seed that oozes out of her cunt like rivers of hot magma as evidence for their deed. Tom drags her head up by her hair, forcing her to face him yet again through the mirror. 

 She hates him. A million curses materialize on the tip of her tongue but none come to fruition, not when she meets his gaze, so intense, it pierces through her skin like sharp ice that frosts over her bones. 

 “Did you think you’d get to come?” He clicks his tongue, feigning pity. “Poor thing. Unfortunately, as far as I’m concerned, insolent little brats do not deserve to be rewarded. Perhaps when you learn to behave, you will earn your release.”

 He lets go of her hair and she cries as her face meets the mattress again and her bedroom grows cold again and she knows that this time, he is truly gone. 

 And when she finally gathers enough strength to look at herself in the mirror, there her reflection was— staring back at her, toppled over, fucked out, and alone. 

a/n: its been so long since i last wrote for tom and i had just finished my rewatch of Nosferatu and then this thing was born LMAOOOO i hope you all enjoy it though 🤭

🪞 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! your feedback is always appreciated 🫶

TAGLIST:

@your-nanas-house

@sallowsarchives

@michelle-26

@iamthejam

@lyis

[abbysbug]

werewolf!ellie x vamp!abby x fem!reader

CW; pussy eating, fingering, blood drinking, blood kink, pain kink, piercing flesh, mentions of fighting, collars, overstimulation, cum eating, subish!ellie, name calling (mutt), slight pet play ig??

A/N; the puppy is literally ellie as a werewolf

discord

-

The most difficult times of the month were full moons and blood lusts. Naturally, they had to fall on the same date this month.

“So fuckin’ irritating,” Ellie growled. She was kneeling next to the bed, her hands behind her back and her pink collar wrapped snuggly around her neck. Each time she moved slightly, the bell on the collar rang and made her face heat up in embarrassment.

“Does the mutt ever shut up?” Abby mumbled. She was sat behind you, holding your back to her chest and licking long stripes up your neck causing you to shiver.

She was getting desperate, and that made you want to force her to wait even longer. But denying her meant denying yourself, and you didn’t like the idea of that.

“Don’t call me that!” Ellie snapped.

Abby muffled a laugh against your neck. Her favourite game is riling Ellie up, especially before she transforms. Whenever Ellie and Abby’s events fall on the same date, once Ellie transforms and Abby lets her bloodlust fully take control of her, they fight. It’s a good way for Ellie to get her energy out and for Abby to control herself because apparently, werewolf blood tastes like ‘trash’.

Your thumb swipes against Abby’s lips and her mouth falls open. You trace her fangs, and she hisses softly. Her fangs are always sensitive.

“Are you going to be able to control yourself tonight?” You questioned.

Abby has been alive for centuries and have experienced more blood lusts than years you have lived. She’s learnt to control herself, but sometimes you get nervous.

“Of course,” She whispered, “But if I can’t Ellie is here.”

The bell on Ellie’s collar rung at the mention on her name.

You looked at Ellie. She looked so adorable. Her thighs were covered in slick and there was a puddle of slick on the floor between her thighs. Her sex drive and arousal levels were heightened when it was a full moon, and you fought the urge to tease her for it.

You patted the empty spot between your thighs, “Hop up,”

Ellie eagerly climbed onto the bed. She positioned herself to be laying between thighs and looked up at you with awaiting eyes. Her hair had gotten thicker and eyes larger.

Now, you looked at Abby. Her eyes were locked on your neck.

“Be gentle.” You told her.

She was not gentle. You cried out in pain as she dug her fangs into your neck and her grip around your body tightened. Ellie was quick to react, her lips wrapped around her clit and two fingers pushed into your weeping hole. The pain slightly outweighed the pleasure.

Finally, Abby’s venom entered your blood system. Vampire venom is used for many things, one of them being for sex. The venom causes immense pleasure and forces your brain into a haze.

Abby groaned against you and blood drippled down your neck. Her fingernails dug into your sides, and you whimpered.

“Oh fuck, Ellie.” You moaned and buried your fingers in her hair, tugging her closer.

Everything was overwhelming. You never last long when Abby is drinking from you and Ellie is between your thighs.

Abby pulled her fangs from your neck and licked over the bite. Her saliva heals you faster. You thought she was done drinking, but she dug her fangs back into you.

Ellie’s fingers relentlessly pumped into you, and she bit your clit softly. Her piercing green eyes didn’t leave yours. It was fucking incredible how she fucked you. Your slick was dripping down her wrist and onto the bed, and her face was covered.

Your orgasm unexpectedly hit you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched. Pathetic moans and whimpers left your throat. You tried to push Ellie’s head away from you as you were already overstimulated, but she tightened her grip around you.

Again, Abby pulled her fangs out and licks over the bite. Her grip on you loosened, then tightened again. She was fighting herself.

“Ellie,” She mumbled.

Whatever Ellie had said, it was muffled.

“Ellie,” Abby snapped.

That caused Ellie to pull away from you. Her face and arm were drenched in your slick. 

You wanted to whine and cry about your approaching orgasm being ruined, but you know they couldn’t control it.

Ellie pulled you into a kiss and you moaned into her mouth at the taste of yourself. You both panted as you pulled away.

Abby stood from the bed and that’s when you noticed how close she was to losing control. Her eyes were red, and her face was covered in your blood. Her tongue darted out and licked some of the blood on her lips. She was waiting for Ellie.

You took Ellie’s collar off and gave her a quick kiss. Ellie grinned and stood from the bed, offering her slick-covered fingers to Abby, who denied them. She shrugged and shoved them in her mouth, licking herself clean.

In a blood lust, Abby is always closed off. She was just trying to control herself from going wild on you, so you never took it to heart.

They both left the room, Ellie looking back at you sadly. She preferred to be with you when she transformed. It comforted her.

The venom was still buzzing in your system and your post-orgasm made your brain feel hazy. A yawn left your throat, and you buried yourself under the comforter. It was probably a biohazard to sleep in a blood and cum covered bed, but you didn’t want to move.

You closed your eyes and sighed. They’ll be back once you wake up.

-

a/n; if ive used bloodlust in the wrong way...ummm mb

@mystellenia

[is-the-sky-blue]

WARM: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, satosugu x fem!reader, pet names, praise, teasing, fingering, finger sucking, spanking, begging

You don't think you've ever felt this warm.

You don't think you've ever sweat this much.

Breathy whines and pants broke past your kiss bitten lips, growing more and more swollen as you try to keep them shut, the embarrassment creeping up your ears with the sheer volume you cried only to find fingers fucking themselves into your mouth, making you gag as his sultry voice whispered, "cheer f'me pretty," breathtaking blue eyes capturing your gaze as you suckled, whining as he pulled them off your tongue but blushing as he put them into the mouth of the man in front of you, his deep groan making you reel as his hooded purple irises stared at you with so much desire you couldn't keep the eye contact.

It was humiliating, to be stripped bare, pink panties and bra flung somewhere left to be found in the morning as you were too preoccupied with the fuzzy sensation in your stomach.

You never tried to get here, didn't do anything to end up in this predicament and yet here you were, melding into their two bodies as they reduced you to a blabbering puddle, the film you wanted to watch remaining at the title screen as you couldn't even hit play before they pounced.

You were a mess, your sweaty limbs entangling with anything they could grab, fingers flexing and pulling as Suguru sat cross legged on the floor with you in his lap, your chest pressed into his annoyingly still clothed one as you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers every so often tugging at the ends of his luscious dark locks as you attempted to burrow your flushed and damp face into the crook of his neck.

"Please, please, please," was the only thing you could whimper as you felt your thighs jiggle with each slap of their fingers. Satoru's hot breath fanned over your sweltering neck as he leaned over your back, hand sliding into the stickiness between your legs.

Suguru had one large hand wrapped around your waist, cupping the fat of your hips as you squirmed, keeping you planted on his lap as you tried to worm yourself to your knees, trying to let your skin hit the plush pink rug on your bedroom floor that was now getting soaked.

Satoru was seated infuriatingly close to your back, leaning onto you, sharing his warmth and you could only pant as you overheated from both their bodies and the incessant stimulation they forced upon your submissive figure.

Suguru's thick fingers pounded into your dripping pussy, slipping inside in tandem with the digits Satoru squirmed inside as well, four varying shaped objects now ramming inside, wiggling against your velvety walls as you writhed against them.

You g-spot whined in aggravation as it was assaulted, your clit not safe from their relentless attack either as Satoru slid one of his insanely long and deft fingers over the weeping bud, rolling and twisting with such care you felt tears begin to well.

It was warm, very, very, warm, the closed door of your bedroom refusing air circulation as you remained sandwiched between their taught and muscular forms that molded you to their whims.

"What d'ya need baby," Satoru hummed into the shell of your ear, causing you to shudder as he thrusted up.

"What are you beggin for pretty girl," Suguru murmured into your hair, the vibrations tingling onto you breasts as you pressed against his chest, his hand forcing you to arch into him.

"I-" you gasped, your cheeks impossibly warm as you tried to pull yourself away, fingers pushing onto Suguru's broad shoulders as you attempting to pry yourself from their stifling grasp, from the monstrous pace destroying your weeping walls, "can't- oh fuck," you squirmed, hips spasming as you felt the butterflies flap their wings languidly in your lower belly, the heat, your boyfriends could only pool, swarming in your stomach as you shook.

"Don't try and run princess," Satoru chastised, peeling his hand from your clit only to smack your ass, flesh reverberating against his hand as the loud, smack, did nothing to drown out the embarrassing, shlick shlick shlick, your cunt sang. It only caused you to clench around them as they pistoned inside you, refusing to leave you empty as Suguru always had two digits far up your cunt whenever Satoru pulled out and vice versa. You could feel Suguru groan at the grip you had on him. "Gonna make you feel good, gonna give you everything you want," he continued, pressing a bite into your shoulder, causing you to whine before he licked over the pain, he purposefully spread, with his tongue, lapping at your sweat soaked skin as though he was a healing balm.

"Want you to sto- AH!" you moaned, fingers fisting themselves into Suguru's hair as you screamed, leaning your head back onto Satoru's shoulders as your toes curled, a particularly punishing plunge forcing itself into your guts. You panted shamelessly, feeling as though you'd pass out as only heated oxygen entered your lungs, the blood rushing beneath your skin on a tirade as you panicked at the feeling of your approaching orgasm.

"What did you want baby," Satoru took the moment to tease, circling your clit as he pushed you further into Suguru's torso, eying the way your shaking tits compressed, before pressing a fervent kiss to your lips, shoving his tongue down your throat as you could only close your eyes, mewling into his mouth as you couldn't find enough control of your body to kiss him back.

The string of saliva that hung between your now parted mouths making Suguru chuckle as you stared starry eyed at the sight, your clenching walls a strong indication on how the horny image turned you on impossibly more.

You gasped, chest growing tight as you tried to fight back again, trying to force your knees onto the carpet to pull yourself off their fingers, to lessen how far they squirmed inside, but their hands merely followed your hips, no stutter in the erotic, pap, pap, pap, as you hovered off Suguru's toned thighs, boobs pressing into his face as you tried to compose yourself, his tongue coming to suckle at your nipple before you tugged harshly at his hair, trying to force him off, "I ca-, mmm, c-can't," you sobbed, feeling the tears begin to fall one at a time, trickling off your jaw, down your hickey marred neck and into the cleavage of your chest, trying to fall into the dip of your boob only for Suguru to lick it up, covering your chest in his saliva despite your efforts to pry his heated mouth away.

"What d'ya mean you can't," Satoru huffed, jamming his fingers inside quicker and quicker, "pretty sure this pussy wants even more" he grunts, making you see stars as you convulsed, pulling your ass closer to Suguru, you clit meeting his pecks as you forced your hips up and away from the maniac behind you, your arms wrapped tight around his head, trying to pull away from the deranged momentum.

"I can't, ngh, Toru I can't, please!" you wailed, bringing a hand to try and push him back, his bare shoulders, exposed by his fitted tank top clad torso, not budging under your pressure as you mustered all your strength into your perspiring palm, shoving him as you dropped back into a sit, knees giving out as you tried to grind yourself impossibly closer into your dark haired partner. "Satoru," you smacked his arm, hitting and pushing as you tried to keep distance between you and him to no avail, his chest firm against your shoulder blades. "S-Slow d-down" you squealed, his pounding much faster than Suguru's, the stark contrast forcing your insides to flutter as they squelched, dribbling down as you pooled between your legs, drooling cunt drip, drip, dripping, like a leaky faucet. You slithered a hand behind you, tightly grasping Satoru's wrist, feeling the muscles flex and contract beneath your touch, trying to make him, at the very least, pause for a moment, but despite your pleads and efforts his fingers plunged deeper and deeper, hitting spots of you that only his long fingers could as Suguru scissored you wide.

"S-Slow d-down," he snickered in a mocking moan, pinching your clit between his hands, forcing himself between your cunt and Suguru's abdomen. "Awh is my baby overwhelmed," he blew against your ear, fat droplets spilling down your cheek as you felt your mind begin to melt.

"S-Suguru," you squealed, staring up at him with glassy eyes and a pout, "h-he-hel-help," your voice stuttered, their rampaging digits shaking the entirety of your figure.

The soothing grin on his face did nothing to appease the overstimulating sensation burning your lower half. "Mmm, I am helping angel," he cooed, slipping his hand from your back to your cheek, running a gentle thumb over the apple of it, "makin you feel good, yeah, got you squirming and lookin so pretty for me, for us," he purred "you're gonna cum fer' us right, reward us with your juices," he cocked a grin, forcing you to stare into his overbearing purple as his knuckles dripped in your flooding essence, it sliding down his forearm in an erotic waterfall. "Gonna cum like a good girl right, gonna orgasm and tremble in our arms," he said so sweetly it fucked with your brain, "gonna help you through it," and you whimpered desperately.

"It-" you choked, "s'too much," you squeezed your eyes shut, rolling your hips in yet another feeble attempt to slow them down.

"But doesn't it feel nice," he whispered, "don't we make you feel so nice baby, that fuzzy feeling in your tummy is good ain't it," he persuaded, "tellin us to stop when my little princess down their is drooling and telling me she's happy," Suguru coos so gently, his tender tone a stark contrast to the filth spilling from his lips as he rammed into your cunt.

"She's singing my love," Satoru grins, the wet smacks of your pussy echoing throughout the hot room, you swore steam was beginning to cloud the walls as your eyes fogged over, salty droplets doing nothing to clear your vision as your breaths stuttered, "telling us to keep goin," he murmurs, "clenching so tightly, not wanting to let us go."

"m'not," you try and protest, shaking your heavy head.

"Baby don't lie," Suguru chastised, slapping your ass and you moaned so loudly it had them smirking. "She's so tight even though we keep fuckin her open," he praised and you felt muddled as he complimented your cunt instead of you.

You could feel your tongue loll out as you tried to gasp for air, your hips finally giving out and you just had to let them have their way as you cried, their tender kisses contrasting their rolling digits.

"it, it's, s'warm," you cry weakly.

"I know baby, I know," Suguru pecked your temple, comforting your melting body in his embrace.

"feel it," you mumbled, blinking out tears through your wet lashes.

"Mhm," Satoru hums, "what's it feel like," he cooed, grabbing a fistful of your hair before yanking you back, no longer letting you press your head into Suguru's chest and you squealed. Your eyes began to glaze, as he stared at you, as they both gazed at you.

"S'warm nd fuzzy," you confessed, "feels tingly," you whined, "my tummy feels tingly nd it, it," you groaned, "s'burning," you sob, breathlessly, "s'throbbing my tummy is-" you sighed, feeling them hit you just right, "feels," you cry "feels good!" this electric pulse began to track beneath your skin, making your toes curl as you contracted, your muscles beginning to grow taught. "Feel so, so, so, so, good," you babble as you tried to swallow the drool beginning to pool in your mouth, tiny rivulet slipping past your lip as you squirmed and cried, and then you felt it, between your walls their fingers connected, there were four digits and they were beginning to interlace, bending at the knuckles, spreading you wide.

"FUCK!" you screamed at the realization, they were practically holding hands while inside you. Then you heard it, the sucking and panting as they kissed over your head, "fuck, fuck, fuck," you began to grow even wetter, even hornier, if that was possible.

It was as though lights were beginning to flicker on, one after the other, growing brighter and brighter, burning their bulbs, this all consuming tremor snaking up your spine, "s'coming, oh my god!" you whine, watching as their lips parted, melted limbs no longer letting you hump or grind for more friction as you sobbed, erotic ah, ah, ah's, leaving your lips with every thrust upwards. "Please, please, please," you begin to beg despite not needing to, they were giving you everything you need, everything you could ever want and more, they were pleasing you, drilling you open as they satisfied every last nerve in your body. "Cumming," you pant, "m' gonna cum!" you scream, moaning pornographically as you felt their intertwined fingers rut into you, touching every last aching bit of your sobbing cunt as that overwhelming ecstasy consumed you, their murmured praises and encouragement falling deaf upon your blood rushing ears as that final thrust, that final swipe onto your clit had you spilling, heat bursting throughout every limb as shockwaves rippled throughout your trembling body. Your soul ascending at the out of body experience.  Tears fell freely as you shook there, open mouthed, choked out, high pitched moans filling the space as you pooled, flooding every last drop you had inside of you out, relief permeating your bones as the stressed out knot in your gut snapped and gushed.

 "I, ugh- oh " you whimpered, hot mouths searing your neck as they peppered calming kisses over your skin, their plunging fingers beginning to slow as Satoru eased up his frantic rubbing, instead tracing languid circles on your clit as he helped you ride it out.

"Doing so good baby, just breath," Suguru cooed, cupping your face with one of his hands as you sobbed, "breath c'mon my pretty little girl, such a good girl," he mumbled as you hiccupped, bleary eyed as you felt that tingle recede from your convulsing limbs, travelling down and back to your slobbering cunt, dripping out into your cum as you gasped, the crashing ocean meeting the shore, their gentle laps at the sand fueling your cunt as the last drops came out in waves, recoiling before pushing forward, growing smaller and smaller each time as your hips stuttered, rolling in slow circles as you felt yourself come back to the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut before falling limp, Suguru catching you into his chest and carefully you felt their fingers separate in your spent out pussy, slowly, they pulled out, unstuffing your cunt before they left you empty, the feeling of your crying walls fluttering around nothing making you sob weakly into his chest, hiccups shaking your torso as you cried. 

"Did so well pretty thing," Satoru cooed, and your fuzzy visioned eyes couldn't see the way him and Suguru swapped hands, the dark haired man letting the snowy haired boy suckle on his sticky, cum lathered fingers as Satoru placed his fingers onto Suguru's tongue, the sound of their spit swishing as they sucked and sucked, groaning at your nectar. "My baby tastes so good," he moaned, licking up from Suguru's elbow, the long stream of slick staining his tongue as Suguru cradled your exhausted form in his arm, soothingly patting your head as you caught your breath, the sounds of his spittle mixing with your essence making your mind throb as you tried not to dwell on it, focusing on your heaving chest.

Suguru suckled gently, tongue wrapped around each digits as he wiped you off from Satoru's fingers, opening his mouth wide to let Satoru rub his wet forearm over his tongue, letting him taste every last drop and he lapped it up in earnest. "So sweet," he praised, removing his hand from Satoru's mouth, disregarding the protesting whines the white haired boy let out as he rubbed his spit and barely slick covered hand over your back, rubbing circles as you focused on your breaths, the overheating air finally dispelling as your warmed flesh tried to cool itself down.

"So good for us," Satoru murmured, shifting his legs from the seated position he remained in, staring at the practical puddle you made on your rug, but it didn't matter, he'd just buy you another one anyways. 

He gazed upon you in awe, your trembling, sweaty, naked form curled up into his partner, your aching cunt staring at him, gaping, revealing your pink insides that glistened with your juices and he couldn't help himself when he leaned forward, licking you up.

The gasp you let out was tearful, but he slurped regardless, trying to get what he could before Suguru's large hand yanked him by his hair, his scalp stinging as he pulled him off, the slick pop ringing out as his sugar covered lips only pulled into a self-satisfied, toothy, grin. "Leave her alone," he huffed, cradling you gently as you pressed your legs tightly shut, attempting to soothe your weak mewls, scratchy throat settling in, "she's already been overstimulat- mmph," Satoru's lips crashed onto his, hand still tangled in his hair as he caressed his tongue with your cum, letting him taste your lingering drops. He couldn't keep back the smirk as Suguru groaned against him before reluctantly pulling away, slick and saliva mixed string bridging their mouths slowly falling the further he moved back.

"Wanted to have another taste," he panted, eyes full of delight, chest heaving as he leaned forward to pat a comforting hand on your back, watching as you relaxed. "My baby tastes too good for me to leave anything behind," he chuckled, so very happy. Suguru could only sigh, knowing there was pure truth in his words before turning towards you.

"Let's go get you settled on the bed, m'kay love." he spoke tenderly carefully pulling himself to his feet as he settled you on your plush mattress, the cutesy comforter a nice backdrop for your blissful, post-orgasmic form, eyes closed as you whined, limp arms attempting to cling to him as he tried to stand up and leave you laying on the bed.

"Sugu," you murmured, barely above a whisper, closed eyes cracking open as your raised arms grasped weakly onto his now cum stained shirt.

"I know baby, I want to cuddle with you too but I'm gonna go get a bath ready, wash you up," he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"noo," you whimpered, letting your arms fall as he finally pulled away and you felt tears gloss your eyes again, spilling down your cheeks. "stay with me," you sniffled and he shook his head.

"Toru'll hug you 'kay," he tried instead, "love you nice and tight while I go set everything up, then you can have as much of me as you'd like."

He watched as you merely conceded, letting the snowy haired boy wrap you up in his embrace as he pressed kisses to your scalp, wiping your tears, hugging you close before he quickly made his way to the bathroom, staring at the sticky evidence staining the floor and his body, the damp spot on his shirt seeping into his skin as he carefully prepped a bath, listening to Satoru murmur sweet nothings into your ear, pretty little praises easing your mind as you closed your eyes.

He'd have to do this again soon.

[pappydaddy]

made for loving you (s.h.)

a/n: we are just pretending that they had the ability to remotely check their voicemail systems in 1985, okay lovelies? awesome!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink (ily lovely!)

synopsis: steve fears his chance with y/n is ruined leading to breathless proclamations in the rain. based on i was made for loving you by kiss.

taglist: @the-weeping-author | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @smarie7547 | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @k-k0129 | @ihatepeanutss | @moralina |  @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn |  @lexi-2004 |@i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo |  @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: depictions of being beat up | blood mentioned | fluff

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____

  King Steve never believed in the whole soulmate idea. He found it certifiably insane for someone to think that someone was made specifically for one person, it was baffling to him. Not only did the idea of commitment send a shockwave akin to the eight-point-zero magnitude earthquake through his body, but the idea of committing to one person blew his feeble little mind. How could someone become so in love with one person? Was it just that it is actually just socially acceptable to have affairs and simply never talk about it? He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend the rhotic lacing romance novels and movies. How could someone be so obsessed with someone that they devote their whole life to this one person? How could someone be so obsessed with someone that can be happy spending their whole life around someone? Because, certainly, his parents are not happy spending their whole lives together.

  It all fell into place like puzzle pieces in the Summer 1985 when he first laid eyes on Y/N L/N. She worked in the Ladies’ Speciality store on the same floor as Scoops Ahoy. He would see her going to the food court, passing by the Parlour on her way to her shift or leaving for the day. He hadn’t even talked to her and he was infatuated. Not a word was spoken to him from her lips and he was being driven mad by the thought. It wasn’t until Y/N came in to get some ice cream with Robin (the two forming a friendship from working so close together) on her day off before they headed to the community pool that he spoke his first words to her. 

  From there, he was entranced. It all made sense to him. Every poem ever written about the obsession of love. Every line of literature that oozed with the sense of pining. He knew that he was made solely for her. To love her. To hold her. To simply be with her. It was his higher purpose. His calling. He was simply there to be hers. Despite his fumbling attempts at talking to her, Y/N found his dorkiness endearing enough to take a chance on him by making the first move - asking him to call her.  

  Unfortunately, that’s as far as Steve got before getting trapped in a storage room and plummeting into a Russian Underground Base. Her phone number in his passenger seat and the suggestive words of a date hanging in the air of his car from where she uttered them two nights ago. If he hadn’t been trapped and, consequently, kidnapped by Russians, there would be no way in hell Y/N would be at the Fourth of July party with some jock who didn’t even know her favourite ice cream flavour. 

  “I’m sorry,” Steve blinked, a dumb look on his face as he looked at Robin. Robin cocked her head to the side with a roll of her eyes, waiting for Steve to speak as she still held the payphone receiver in the air. “I must have heard you wrong,” He continued, speaking with a chuckle, hoping she was wrong. “‘Cause it sounded like you said that Y/N left you a voicemail saying she was going out on a date tonight-”

  “It’s ‘cause of the giant flesh spider running rampant through Hawkins, isn’t it?” Dustin nodded as if he understood why Steve was so pale after hearing this news. Baffled, Steve and Robin both looked at him as he stood there, sweat staining through his graphic shirt. 

  Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Steve shot a panicked look between Dustin and Robin. The three of them were off to the side, away from the rest of the scheming groups as Robin checked her voicemail, hoping to hear anything from Y/N to make sure she was okay. “No,” Steve nearly yelled, his voice impossibly high. “Well, now I’m worried about that.” 

  Robin, finally hanging up the phone, sighed. “She said he was taking her to the carnival,” Dread filled Steve. Obviously, Robin noticed since she continued on. “According to Hopper and Joyce, the carnival was untouched by the giant flesh spider-” She gave Dustin a pointed look for wording it that way. “And if this flesh spider is looking for this El girl, Y/N should be safe.” 

  “Again, not what I’m worried about,” Steve stressed, a hand coming up to run through his matted and grimy hair. Blood, sweat, and product weighed his normally fluffy hair down. “I’m more concerned about the fact that she’s out on a date with another guy because I was just trapped in a Russian Base for like three days!”

  Dustin scoffed, causing Steve’s eyes to point angrily at him. “Calm down, Drama Queen. It was like 48 hours,” Dustin looked between Steve and Robin, shrinking slightly as he took in the context of the situation. “Which clearly felt like three days and jeopardised Steve’s chances with Y/N. I can clearly see that now.” 

  Silence enclosed around the three as they stood there. Robin ran the voicemail over in her head, trying to decipher how her new friend felt about this date knowing her feelings for the floppy haired new graduate that currently stood across from her. Dustin, trying to gauge the situation, looked between Robin and Steve before slowly starting to back up in an attempt to remove himself. 

  Steve. Steve was a ball of anxiety. So much so that this made Robin realise that Steve had actually changed. King Steve wouldn’t have cared. King Steve would have just shrugged it off and went off to find his new conquest. She could actually see the doubts and insecurities bubbling to the surface of his mind. “Wow. Nancy Wheeler ruined you, didn’t she?” Robin whispered, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that the words met Steve’s ears. His mind seemed to be screaming too loud for him to hear anything else. 

  “I should’ve just manned up and asked her out,” Steve was beating himself up. Literally. Robin watched, a look of pure shock and bafflement on her freckled face, as he beat a closed fist into an opened hand. Just enough for his already swollen, bruised, and cut face to wince but not enough for it to attract anyone’s attention. “Now, she’s probably having the time of her life with this quarterback who will get a full ride to the University of Alabama or something-” He muttered to himself, the punches continuing, concerning Robin slightly. 

  “Woah, woah, woah,” Robin’s voice cracked slightly as she lunged forward. Gently, her hands grasped Steve’s wrists, keeping him from hitting his hand again. Steve, eyes watering in sheer insecurity, looked at her. Her heart broke for both her new found friends. She knew Y/N wasn’t having the time of her life. A, she hated stereotypical jocks and, if memory serves Robin right, this guy was the quintessential quarterback. B, she wasn’t with Steve - her long-standing crush. Something she admitted to Robin drunkenly. “Go to her.” 

  “What?” Steve’s voice was wobbly. It was soft. 

  “Go to her, Steve. You remember where she lives, you dropped her off that one time when her car wouldn’t start,” She started to explain. “Go to her, tell her how you feel. Lay it all at her feet.” 

  “W-what about everyone else?” He stammered, wide eyes looking towards the cluster of people. Robin waved her hand dismissively, making him look back at her. Her blue eyes were so confident and sure. They were compelling him to listen to her. Confirming that everything will be okay if he just listened to her. 

  They stared at each other, locked in a kind of communication only people destined to be best friends could achieve. “We can survive. We will survive.” She urged him despite the fact that she didn’t believe those words one bit. Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly nodded. Brown eyes casting over the cluster of people. Some he fought side-by-side with for the past two years, some who just joined the battle. They were all probably more capable than Steve at everything. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

  Squaring his shoulders, he stood to his full height. “I’m going,” He spoke with a firm nod. The kind of nod that sealed some of the best and worst plans in history. “I’m going to her.” Just as the rubber sole of his converse slapped the pristine tile as he started to move towards the exit, unsure of how he’s going to get to Y/N’s place with no car, Hopper’s sharp whistle of his lips stopped him. 

  Seeing a Walkie-Talkie flying through the air, landing right in the scrambling hands of a nervous Dustin, disappointment and dread filled him. He wasn’t going to be able to slip away that easily. He barely listened as Hopper, Dustin, and Erica bickered about how it was best for them to communicate, hoping that whatever the solution was could spare him. His body buzzed with the need to tell Y/N everything. The need to bare his soul to her. The need to be near her - nay. To be hers. 

  The jingle of keys brought him from his locked in zone, letting him catch the keys Hopper was throwing him in time. “Steve’s in charge.” Those words weighted Steve’s soul down to the depths of the bowls of Hell for he knew this night was far from over. 

  “Come on,” Steve gruffed, his drive zeroing in. His sole focus was simply on beating this shit for another time and getting to Y/N as fast as he could. “Let’s kill these bastards.” 

____

  By the time it all fell silent again, rain was pelting down. Once the paramedic’s gave Steve the okay to leave and the firefighters were able to retrieve one of his keys from the Scoops backroom (thank god for cold rooms), he didn’t waste any time speeding off. He knew he should probably change his clothes from something that bore his blood, sweat, and tears, but he simply couldn’t waste another moment. That’s how, after a bout of reckless driving and a few near-misses, Steve was parking on the street, peering into the darkened driveway of Y/N L/N’s house. 

  A moment of hesitation fluttered through him. One thought was about the possibility of her not being home. The other one being the very likely possibility of her being asleep given the late hour. Another thought was about her parents not appreciating a beaten and bloody person professing their love for their daughter. However, a warm glow emitting from an upstairs window and her car being the only one parked in the driveway reassured him enough for him to muster the courage back up to get out of the car. 

  “You just survived two days in a Russian base and an interdimensional creature made of human flesh. You can do this.” He breathed, pumping himself up. Shaking his limbs out, his eyes zeroed in on the front door of her house. Just like a magnet, his body started to be pulled towards her, almost as if it were sure that it was meant to be around her. With a determination greater than the determination he felt to get out of the Russian base, he started to move quicker up her driveway until he was practically running up the rather long driveway, rain pelting his shirt and hair. 

  Standing there, his chest heaved as his back tingled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Before his consciousness could catch up, his finger was jabbing the doorbell repeatedly - much to his own horror. Despite not wanting to continuously ring the doorbell, his finger couldn’t seem to leave it alone until she pulled the door open. It was like his eyes were desperate to see her and his body was doing everything in its power to do just that. 

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Even with the muffled voice barely making it through the wooden front door and the sound of socked feet rushing down the stairs, his finger never ceased to stop pushing the doorbell. Part of him hoped that if the Jock did accompany her back to her place, his incessant doorbell ringing was annoying him. The large majority of him, however, was mortified that he couldn’t seem to stop ringing the damn doorbell. Suddenly, the door was pulled open, the burst of air from the movement making her hair wisp back from her face perfectly and Steve was stunned into a stupor, finger pressing on the button. 

  “Steve,” A look of shock crossed her face before it deepened once she caught the sight of his face in the glow of the entryway light. “Oh, my god, Steve!” She breathed out, concern lacing her voice as her hand came up to delicately cover her mouth as she took in his nearly swollen shut eye. 

  He couldn’t muster up any words. Hell, he couldn’t even take his finger off the doorbell. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out. He wasn’t sure if she was scared of him or scared to hurt him, but once her slightly cold fingers met the wet skin of his wrist, he blinked out of the trace he had been lulled into. “I needed to come see you,” His voice was much more hoarse than what it had been earlier. His throat was dry from the lack of water, but his body was becoming more and more exhausted as the seconds ticked by, but he felt energy shooting through him now that he stood in her presence. “Robin told me about your date with the Jock tonight and I couldn’t lose you just because I was kidnapped by Russians for two days.” 

  “You were what,” Y/N blinked, expression dropping from shocked to horrified. “Steve! You need to go to the hospital or the police station! Not to my house! This is serious-” She started fretting, her hands coming up, looking like they were going to lay on his face. His skin tingled in anticipation of her touch on him and his chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes darkening, but her hands stilled halfway there. “Does it hurt?” She breathed, hands slightly shaking as her own adrenaline coursed through her.

  Steve, with another surge of confidence, reached his own hands out to grab her wrists gently. Suddenly, as his fingers wrapped around the softness of her skin, he was all too aware that he hadn’t had a shower in two days and probably smelled horrible. On top of it, he was very much aware of the level of grime on his skin. But Y/N didn’t seem to care as her wrists seemed to sink into his hands, relief washing over her at the feel of his touch. “I’m fine. I got checked over by the paramedics, the Feds were there. I am fine,” He reassured her, noting the worry that still swam within the depths of her eyes. “But I needed to come see you. I would have ran here the second I escaped, but I was stopped.” 

  “Probably the paramedics stopped you because you were kidnapped, Steve,” She blinked and in a split second, guilt consumed him for not being able to tell her more. He was sure he would eventually tell her everything, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “But why did you need to see me so badly, you must be exhausted.” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes flicking over his face. 

  “I needed to tell you how I feel, Y/N. Hearing that you were out with the Jock tonight, I-” He cut himself off, his throat swelling with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose the person I was made for,” His words were like drops of blood dripping from his bleeding heart. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I need to be around you and I’ve never understood the concept of soulmates until I saw you,” Shock crashed against Y/N like a tidal wave. Staring at the beaten and bruised boy, she could only manage to blink her eyes slowly as his words bleed with passion. “Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I was made solely to love you.” 

  Those words hung in the air like an anvil ready to squash Steve as his eyes burned into her shell-shocked ones. Her mouth hung open slightly as he could see her brain processing the words her ears just heard. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, her jaw softly closing as she stood up, eyes as soft as a plush bed - making Steve want to lay within them for the rest of his life. “Oh Steve,” She breathed out, seemingly overwhelmed with the proclamation. Steve’s heart lurched, the anvil dropping an inch. An equally as soft smile as her eyes graced her lips, but it did little to ease Steve’s anxiety. “I thought you were never going to make a move. I thought you didn’t like me like that-” 

  Her words were cut off as Steve grabbed her face in his blood stained and, truthfully, grimy hands. In one motion, his lips nearly jumped on hers, kicking off a feverish kiss. His lips moved against her stunned ones as if she were the water he was so deprived of for two days. As if she were the thing he was derived from for so long. As if she were the air he needed in order to live. 

  He could feel the gentle touch of her fingertips ever so lightly touching his forearms as her lips seemed to match his speed, her body coming to life after falling into the shock of the sudden kiss. Goosebumps marked the trail of her fingertips as they made their way up to his hands. Soon, the warmth of her hands rested over his, just sitting there. Almost as if she was using them to tell if this was real or just a dream. Steve was worried about the same thing but the coldness of the pouring rain hitting his back as the wind blew it under the cover of her porch told him it was all reality.

  Their lungs ached, Steve’s bruised ribs pulsed from his lungs beating against them, begging for air, not realising the lips he was attached to were (in fact) his air. Their chests swelled with warmth, both from their hearts becoming electrified with love and from the burning of their chests screaming from the lack of air. Lips became feverish in desperation as they both realised that, soon, they would have to pull away. Steve hated himself as he reluctantly pulled his lips back ever so slightly, just enough for both of them to suck in air, chests heaving - panting as if they had just ran a marathon. 

  Neither of them opened their eyes, feeling the laboured puffs of breath against their swollen lips as shockwaves of tingles shot through their bodies as if they were still kissing. “Nope,” Steve shook his head. “Not enough yet.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open out of an act of confusion just in time for Steve’s lips to pounce back onto hers, this time her feet stumbling back from the force, his body crashing flush against hers. A squeak left her lips as she felt like she was going to fall backwards but his hands immediately left her cheeks, flying to her waist to pull her against him even more. 

  “Steve-” She pulled her mouth back slightly, words muffled by his lips still, but the risk of biting either of their tongues lowered, but he shushed her, ready to let his lungs explode if that meant he could keep kissing her. “Steve-” She tried again with a giggle, hands coming up to his chest to hold him back slightly. Finally opening their eyes, Y/N was stunned for a moment as she saw Steve. His lip now swollen, the cut on his lip re-opened and bleeding slightly. His eyes (or the eye that wasn’t swollen shut) nearly blown out as if he were high. Regaining her thoughts, she cocked her head to the side, eyes softening from the heated pools they were seconds ago. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?” She asked, having only caught enough information about his home life to know his parents were barely around and when they were, they barely met the standards of parents, let alone supportive and kind parents.

  Suddenly, and if Steve wasn’t already sure, he knew he had finally found the place in the world he was looking for. He found the purpose of his life. He found the thing he would live and breathe. He found the thing he would even die for. “Actually, yeah.” He said almost sheepishly, realising his house key was on the set of keys the Russians took from him and his parents were away (shockingly). He felt scared, worried that she would think he came here and professed false feelings just so that he could have a place to sleep for the night. 

  His worries were eased with that soft smile slipping upon her swollen lips as she stepped back, Steve’s hands reluctantly letting go of her waist. “Come on in. I’ll even let you shower and sleep in my bed.” She winked, a giggle gracing the dimly lit entryway as she backed up, Steve following immediately - almost like she was luring him into a trance like state just with her beauty. In that moment, he knew he would never get enough of her and he will live everyday trying to give his everything to her.

[butterflyscribbles]

Thoughts on Wachowski brothers personally encountering a human baby for the first time? Like, getting to hold a baby and getting a close look, and all. 🥺 And- wait yeah, let me just go there, why not, imagine them having a new human baby sibling? (Yeah, I mean Tom and Maddie's child if they decided to have one.) I think they would be very good brothers. :'3 Imagine them with that teeny tiny human? It'd also be be really silly tho. 😂

DUDE I LOVE THE IDEA OF THEM SUDDENLY ALSO HAVING TO ADJUST TO A TINY LIL BROTHER OR SISTER IN THE HOUSE YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE FLUFF POTENTIAL!!!!! (I’m bias towards the idea of them having a daughter if any bc baby sister baby sisterrrr)

Sonic I feel would be completely stoked….up until the first few months full of screaming and wailing keeping him up all hours and him not only lacking attention but also having to pick up more duties around the house bc Tom and Maddie are both caring for the baby 24/7. That said the minute he’s able to roll all over the floor watching cartoons with her, help her learn to walk, all falls neatly into place and he’d die for her in a moments notice.

If you thought Knuckles was protective before, just you wait once he hears that Maddie is pregnant. He would be absolutely joined at the hip, helping at any and every possible avenue to make things easier for her and Tom. Once the baby is born, I can imagine he would also feel some annoyance towards the adjustments and also maybe apprehension because he’s secretly terrified he’ll hurt her if he even comes close. The second that Maddie places that baby in his arms though, it’s the first time they see the echidna warrior weep in public.

Tails is just excited to be a big brother. He’s buzzing to help Maddie and Tom build up the nursery and he has the easiest time adjusting to the newest addition to the family. He’s a complete cuddle bug, curling around her during nap time and being patient enough to let her tug at his ears. He can’t wait to take her flying when she’s old enough.

I have so many thoughts….this is something I could 100% draw out at some point they make me insane

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Ehem* Ehem* carefully slides over a pack of oreos “more cow reader content please:>”

Hmmm more cow reader au?? What else could i write about? Cow reader x multiple bulls? 👀

CW: cow hybrid reader, fem reader (reader has breasts and vagina, referred to as a "girl"), multiple partners, smut, dubcon, orgy (F/M/M/M/M), breeding kink

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Imagine your farm hands' surprise when they find out that your owners purchased several bull hybrids.

It was a spur of the moment decision: there was a nearby farm that was shutting down and about four bull hybrids had nowhere to go. Your owners, being the sweet people they were, decided to give them a home. They already had a cow hybrid—i.e. you—so taking care of bull hybrids shouldn't be that different, right?

It was a big adjustment having four bulls added to your barn. They were all so similar and yet so different, and you found your brain fuzzy when you tried to keep track of all of them. They were big and noisy and were already friends with each other, making you feel left out. You often found yourself alone in your pen or out in the field, the four bulls hanging out at the opposite end. Of course, one or two were polite enough to invite you over, but you never stayed long, feeling unwelcome in their tight knit group.

Yes, it would seem that your new roommates just weren't interested in you. You supposed that was fine, you still had your farmhands who gave you plenty of attention, you didn't need to be friends with those bulls.

But then your heat came around, and things quickly changed.

Your heat started in the middle of the day. You were alone in the barn when you felt a tingling sensation run down your spine, your cunt twitching to life, weeping slick down your thighs. You whined for your farmhands, begging them to come take care of you. You couldn't help but present yourself in the empty barn, so hot and sticky, your pussy aching to be filled.

"Y/N?"

You froze, slowly glancing over your shoulder, eyes meeting one of the bulls. He must have come back from the pasture early today; maybe he forgot something. It didn't matter really: you could already tell where this was going to go.

The bull sniffed the air, his tail twitching, eyes crossing oh so slightly.

"Yer—shit, are ya in heat?"

You whined, trying not to wave your hips back and forth, forcing yourself to stay still. Despite your efforts to not tempt him, the bull was already seduced by your scent, making his way into the barn, his cock beginning to stand at attention.

"Ya need help? Huh? Need to be filled up?"

You hiccuped, biting your lip, pushing down a moan when he kneeled behind you and grabbed your hips.

"I-I'm fine! The farm boys will help me; you don't have to—"

"The farm boys?" He clicked his tongue. "Nah, they won't be able to help ya, sweetcheeks. They can't give ya what ya need. But me—" he began running the head of his cock through your folds, "—I can give it to ya real good."

"W-Wait, I—"

"Shhhh, just relax, pretty baby. Lemme fill ya up nice and good."

And fill you up he did. He pushed his cock in steadily, his thick girth splitting you open, reaching every inch of your gummy walls. You cried out, hands curling in the hay beneath you, back arching. His hips met yours, his cock bumping up against your cervix, leaving you dizzy.

"See? What'd I tell ya? Ya don't need no farm boys—ya got a real bull right here."

With that, he pulled out, slamming back into you. You gasped, bracing yourself for his harsh thrusts, scrambling for purchase on the dirt floor. His thrusts were hard, rough, his balls making pap pap pap noises as they slapped against your soaking cunt. You could feel a fire burning in your belly, toes curling as you felt it rise higher and higher, eyes rolling back as you tumbled over the edge. You came with a wail, cunt spasming around the bull's heavy cock, his hips not stopping as you creamed around his dick.

"What's goin on—"

The bull's voice died out as he saw the two of you before him, his friend's cock stuffed deep inside your pretty little cunt. He watched in amazement as his friend leaned over you, thrusting even faster than before, making you cry out with each slam of his hips against yours. The bull approached the two of you, staring as his friend finished off, pushing his hips flush to yours and cumming inside, filling your womb with his seed, his cum overflowing around the sides.

"Woah," he whispered in awe. "That's a lotta cum."

"Sure is," the first bull exclaimed, pulling out and watching his cum leak out of you. "This'll definitely get her pregnant."

The second bull scoffed, pulling on his friend's shoulder, kneeling behind you. He manhandled you until your hips were presented to him, his now-hard cock rubbing up against your folds.

"Betcha my cum will get 'er pregnant first."

"Yeah right! My sperm is way stronger!"

The second bull pushed into you, filling you up, pushing out the cum from the first bull. Loud squelching filled the room as he began thrusting into you, his hands digging into your plush hips, bound to leave marks behind. You moaned weakly, letting him have his way with you, barely registering that he and the first bull were still arguing over who would get you pregnant.

"What's goin on in here?"

You raised your head as best as you could, making out the silhouette of the other two bulls walking into the barn.

"We're just makin a bet on who can get Y/N pregnant first."

"And I'm gonna win in just a bit."

"Shut up—"

"Psshhh, yall think you can get her pregnant? I'd bet a whole barrel of apples that I can get her pregnant before all of yall."

"Oh, buddy, I'd have a way better chance than you."

The four bulls began arguing above you, the bull inside you still stirring up your insides, soon making you cum on his cock.

"Oh shit, she's tight—"

The second bull came inside you, but you weren't given time to breathe before another bull pulled you towards him and mounted you.

That's how it went the rest of the night: the four large bulls in a circle, passing you around and fucking you until they came inside, fucking the other bulls' cum out of you. They continued making bets, upping the stakes, arguing over who would be strong enough to get you pregnant. By the time your farmhands come by to check on you, you're collapsed on the floor, a gallon of cum spilled down your thighs.

You thought that would be the end of it, that the bulls would lose interest in you and go back to focusing on themselves, but they surprised you. After they fucked you senseless, they started doting on you, following you wherever you went, questioning you about your likes and interests. You thought they were just being polite, being friendly after they fucked you so much, but one day you heard them arguing in the barn.

"No, I'm gonna be her mate."

"No way, I came in her first."

"I came in her the most."

"As if."

"Alright, alright, that's enough. What if we just shared her? Ya know, took turns and stuff?"

"What the fuck?"

"No way in hell."

"Well... maybe it wouldn't be too bad. At least then we'd get to have her and nobody's feelings would get hurt."

"Yeah, and just imagine it: we could take turns looking out for her and we wouldn't get tired out."

"Plus, we know she takes us all like a champ."

"Yer right, I've never seen a heifer take four bulls before."

You tried to lean closer to hear better, but you ended up knocking over a spading fork in the process. It fell with a loud clang, making the bull's jump and turn rapidly.

"Y/N?"

"What're ya doin, baby?"

"I-I'm sorry!" you stuttered. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping, I just—"

"Awww, you were eavesdropping?? Naughty girl."

The other bulls caught on, smirking as they all began to approach you.

"Y/N, Y/N, shame on you for listening in on us."

"Naughty thing."

"We oughta teach you a lesson, huh?"

"Yeah, gotta teach this bad girl some manners."

You were surrounded with nowhere to go, the four bulls towering over you, their cocks growing with each passing second. And before you could try to defend yourself for listening to their conversation, they were already coaxing you onto your hands and knees, arguing over who got to fuck you first.

Safe to say, you're gonna have to get used to your new farm mates.

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[v1x3n]

D A D D Y K I N K

꒰ PAIRING : kento nanami x reader.

꒰ SYNOPSIS : after bratty words he did the only thing that would fix your manners, not his fault youre such a brat to daddy, is it?

꒰ TAGS : smut - punishment, spanking, praise, daddy kink, crying, thigh slapping and teasing.

navigation ⸝⸝ kinktober masterlist ⸝⸝ taglist

“I told you t’ count, didn't i?” your husband hums with a voice one would use on a child. “Let's restart, okay?” his grin grew when your hips shifted and your head twists, shaking your head so quickly you could get dizzy.

you mewl out, “m sorry!” sniffling then a yelp falls from you as kentos hand connects to your red marked ass, a hit so harsh that your whole body jerks. tears fall down from your face, water dripping onto the floor. your legs kick, trying to run away from the bent over posture you were currently in.

you were bent over in your husband's lap, after a few mean words were targeted at him he just couldn't deal with your bratty attitude anymore!!

your pants were taken off, showing your bare arse and your sweet hole, “d-daddy!” you whine loudly as you receive another harsh smack to your plush skin. “Oh?” he scoffs, rubbing the skin on your body, he coos as he looks over the blushing marks all over your cheeks. His fingers dip through and roll down your holes, teasing both of them. You whine and your body jerks forward, “count” he demands. 

“O-one” you sniffle as he hits your skin. 

Smack! Smack! 

Two harsh slaps deliver to your arse and you jump, tears roll down your face - gagging on the wet as you sob, “t-three!”

“Good girl” Kento smirks, leaving his hand displayed on your arse cheeks, his free hand petting your head. Running a hand through your hair while he lets you settle, your sniffles slowly stopping, a hand brought up to wipe your eyes but as soon as your tears come to a stop, another whack is delivered to your sensitive body, "four!" His fingers trail down to your neglected clit and pussy, collecting the slick in between your folds, his fingers running over the nub and flicking it, your entire body twitches as you cry out, sobbing once more. 

Tears fall onto the floor, splattering down as your husband tuts, “so wet f’ me, hm?” he coos and rubs your pussy, two fingers hovering over your hole and massaging around the sweet circle. His hand that rolls through your hair tightly grabs onto the strands, pulling your head back and you wince. “Say it” Kento hisses. 

“I-im so wet f-for you” whispering the embarrassing words while his fingers rub around your wetness before roughly trailing back up to your plush thighs. Slapping the skin of your thighs and slowly seeing the flesh turn pink. His rough hands impact you so heavily, your mind goes fuzzy due to the pain and you cry out, your moans mixed with agony fill out the room, “so good” he hums. 

“Daddy loves you” Kento whispers into your ear before hitting your arse and your legs squeeze together, ankles trying to twist together to stop the fluids leaking from your weeping cunt, “f-five, daddy! You mewls, crying out. His fingers traced patterns on your flesh, writing the word ‘mine’ over the skin of your thighs before taking a reddening spank to your ass once more. “six!” you squeal. 

“So so good f’ daddy, aren't you?” your husband's boner grew, digging into your ribs. Your arse stung, the red glowing and handprints imprinting onto your surface. You nod repetitively and splatter wet hits onto the floor. “seven!” whining out once more as another whacks your body. 

Smack! Smack!

Another two hits to your body. Drool starts to droop down from your mouth, slipping past your lips, rolling down your chin and joining the wet tears on the floor. A smack hit on your right cheek this time, a red splotch covering the skin. “N-nine!” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

The pain mixed with pleasure fizzed your brain, a cloud covering all of your thoughts. The only thing u could think of was him and only him, the way his cock was stabbing into you, the way his calloused hands smoothed over your cheeks before he landed the last hit aggressively over the right cheek. Ten. 

“ten , daddy! Ten!” you whine out, a slight relief washes over you as you realise you were done. “You sorry, baby?” 

You nod and his rough hands roll over the red marks he had input on your thighs and ass, “say it” you sniffle, trying to focus on talking, “i-im really sorry daddy, won't be a brat againn” quiet words but luckily he still heard. 

“Such a good girl f’ daddy”