#slaughter's big rip off

[schlock-luster-video]

Happy birthday cult film icon Jim Brown!

[lobbycards]

Slaughter’s Big Rip-Off, Canadian Lobby Card, 1973

[ponderingmoonlight]

I love your writing, you are very talented. Can I request a story about Sanemi? The story goes like this: “On the day when all the hunters are fighting Muzan, Sanemi's wife went into labor (could you put his wife giving birth to triplets?). I love you darling.

Sanemi's wife giving birth during the Infinity Castle Battle

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You were so sure your husband will guide you through the delivery of your triplets until the fight between Muzan and the demon slayer corps - including Sanemi. Will you make it all on your own? And will your husband return to your side in time?

Warnings: this is pure drama and I cried a little while writing lol, never gave birth to a child so sorry if this is trash, big angst but fluff in the end, ENJOY 🤍

The night air is thick with tension, each breath you take carrying the weight of what is happening just beyond the horizon. You can feel it in your bones, a concerning anxiety that creeps up your spine and settles in your racing heart. Tonight is the night, the one you dreaded for so long—the final battle against Muzan Kibutsuji, the king of demons.

But for you, the darkness that threatens to consume the world is nothing against the raging in your own body. It was a risk all along and you knew it since Shinobu delivered the news to you. Getting pregnant at such times, carrying for a child in the middle of an endless battle? And to top it all off…With triplets?

“We’re gonna figure this out. Together. After all, I’ll rip off the head of anyone who gets too close to you!”

“You really don’t need to do that, Sanemi.”

The warm words of your husband linger in your mind while you stare at the dark ceiling. Oh, how much he cared for you this whole pregnancy, slaughtering demons in record time only to return to his wife a couple hours later. He did what he could, always stayed by your side and made sure everything went fine.

Until he had to leave. The contractions started early that evening, subtle at first, but now they come in waves that steal your breath and make you clutch at the sheets of the futon beneath you.

"Sanemi..." you whisper his name into the empty room, knowing he isn’t there to hear it.

Your husband is out there, fighting with everything he has, determined to bring an end to the nightmare that claimed so many lives already. He promised you that he’ll return, that he’ll come back to you and the children you carry.

“I’m here with you, Lady Shinazugawa. Breathe with me.”

But those promises feel fragile in the face of such overwhelming danger. Your midwife grabs your hand gently, her warm eyes desperately trying to comfort you.

Another contraction hits, this one stronger than the last. You bite down on your lip to stifle a cry, not wanting to alarm the Kakushi who are stationed outside the door. They are truly kind, offering their assistance constantly, but you sent them away with a forced smile and a shake of your head. You want to do this alone with your midwife, to bring your children into the world in the quiet peace of your home rather than in the chaos of battle.

But peace is a passing thing tonight.

You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the way Sanemi had taught you during those brief, stolen moments of calm, like the midwife has shown him multiple times. He has always been so strong, so determined, and it is that strength you hold onto now. You imagine him beside you, his hand clasping yours, his voice a soothing balm against the pain.

“You can do it, darling. Just think about your breathing, concentrate on my voice. Let’s do this together.”

But as the hours wear on and the contractions grow closer together, you know you can’t do this without him. The pain is becoming unbearable, and your body betrays you, muscles tensing and convulsing as the babies make their way into the world.

A knock at the door breaks through your fog of pain, and a Kakushi enters, his face pale with concern.

“Lady Shinazugawa, please, let us help you. We’ve sent for Lady Kocho’s Tsugoko - she’ll be here soon.”

“I’m truly sorry Lady Shinazugawa, but a doctor is unavoidable at this rate”, the midwife adds while wiping away your blood that covers her hands entirely.

You want to protest, to insist that you can handle this on your own, but the words die on your lips as another contraction takes hold. The Kakushi rushes to your other side, his hands trembling as he helps you lie back against the futon together with your midwife.

“Just breathe,” the midwife murmurs, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“You’re doing so well. They’ll be here soon.”

You nod, biting back the tears that threaten to spill over. You never felt so alone, so vulnerable, and yet you know you have to be strong—for your children and for your husband who risks his life in battle at this very moment for you.

Time seems to stretch and contract in strange ways, and you lose track of how long you labor, each contraction blurring into the next. The room is spinning, the pain almost too much to bear. Just before your eyes threaten to flutter shut, the door bursts open and reveals Aoi.  

She immediately takes charge, her hands steady as she examines you.

“You’re doing wonderfully. It won’t be long now” she says with unusual gentle voice.

You can only nod, too exhausted to speak. The pain is relentless, a constant wave crashing over you, but there is a flicker of hope now, a sense that the end might be in sight.

“Sanemi…” you whisper again, your heart aching for him.

You want him here so bad, want him to see the birth of your children, to hold them and know that they are safe.

But as another contraction grips you, you know that wish is impossible. Sanemi is out there, fighting for his life, and you have to trust that he will return to you as soon as everything’s over.

“Hold on. The first baby is almost here. Just one more push”, Aoi’s voice cuts through the haze.

You gather every ounce of strength you have left, every bit of resolution you can collect, and with a cry that echoes through the room, you push.

And push.

And push.

The sound of a newborn’s wail fills the air, and for a moment, everything else fades away. Aoi holds up the tiny, squirming form, her eyes shining with pride.

“It’s a boy,” she announces with a warm smile and tears glistening in her eyes.

“Shinobu-san will be so proud of you.”

Tears spill over your cheeks as she places the baby in your arms. He’s so small, so perfect, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that blink up at you, unfocused but curious. You hold him close, your heart swelling with love.

But there is no time to linger. The next contraction hits you with full force, and you know the second baby is on the way. Aoi takes the firstborn from your arms, handing him to the Kakushi who remained by your side, and then she was there again, guiding you through the next birth.

The second child comes more quickly, and soon you are holding another tiny life in your arms - a girl this time, with her father’s fierce eyes and a shock of white hair that makes you laugh through your tears. You and your husband always wondered about how your children will look like.

“You really want them to have my hair? Hell no, I don’t want my kids to look like they’re 80 right from the start.”

And still, there is one more.

By the time the third baby arrives, you are beyond exhaustion, barely able to keep your eyes open. But you force yourself to stay awake, to see your third child. Another boy with a face so like Sanemi’s that it takes your breath away.

You hold all three of them close, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. They are perfect, each one of them, and despite the pain and the fear, you know it had all been worth it.

But even as you hold your children, a part of you remains stuck to the battlefield, to the man who risks everything to protect you and them. You pray that he’ll return, that he’ll survive this night and comes home to you.

Hours passed in a blur of exhaustion and overwhelming love. The Kakushi and midwife tend to the babies, cleaning them and wrapping them in soft blankets while Aoi ensured that you were stable until she was forced to leave as well. Everything seems peaceful – too peaceful.

But as the first light of dawn creeps through the windows, a new tension fills the air. The Kakushi who remained by your side was called away as well, his face pale as he listened to hurried whispers at the door. Your heart clenches with fear, knowing that whatever news arrived can’t be good at all.

“Do you…”, you begin, your voice trembling with worry as you try to talk to your stressed midwife.

But before she can answer, the door slams open and your heart leaps into your throat.

There he stands, his haori torn and bloodied, his eyes wild as they search the room. Can it really be him? Is it really possible that he…returned? In the matter of second, your tired eyes fill with tears, take in his sight. It really is him. He really made his way back to you.

“Sanemi!” you cry, relief flooding through you.

In an instant, he is at your side, his hands reaching for you as if to reassure himself that you are really there.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”, his rough voice mutters, strained with worry.

“I’m fine. I-…I’m fine,” you breathe out, your eyes overflowing with tears while taking in the sight of him.

He looks exhausted, battered from the battle, but he’s alive.

Your husband is alive.

“I’m fine, Sanemi. And so are they.”

His eyes follow yours to the three tiny bundles in your arms, and for a moment, he simply stares as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his hand trembling as he touches the soft cheek of the nearest baby.

“They’re… ours?” he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nod, smiling through your tears.

“Two boys and a girl. They’re perfect, Sanemi.”

His breath hitches and you catch a glimpse at the glimmer of tears in his eyes when he gently takes the baby from your arms, cradling him as if he is the most precious thing in the world.

“They’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“Just like their mum.”

You watch as he carefully holds each of your children, his eyes softening with a tenderness you’ve rarely seen. This is a side of Sanemi that few ever caught, a side that is all yours.

“They’re strong,” you add, your voice soft as you watched him with your daughter.

“Just like their father.”

He shakes his head, a rough laugh escaping him.

“No, they’re strong like their mother.”

You reach out, taking his hand in yours, needing to feel the solid warmth of him, to know that he’s really here.

“You came back to us,” you whisper, the fear that had gripped you all night finally releasing its hold.

He looks at you with his intense but somehow empty gaze.

“Hell, yeah, I promised you I would, didn’t I?”

You nod, a smile breaking through the tears.

“Yes, you did.”

Sanemi leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, then to each of the babies’ heads, his expression softening with each touch.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he vows, his voice a low, fierce whisper.

“No matter what fucking demon wants to kill me. But it’s over now, darling. It’s finally over.”

You believe him, with every fiber of your being. The battle is over, and you all survived. Your family is whole, and that is all that mattered.

“What about the others, are they alright-���

“No. Let’s talk about that another time. Right now, I just want to stay here like this for a while”, he interrupts you.

As the first rays of sunlight stream into the room, you lean into Sanemi’s embrace, your heart full to bursting with love for the man who chose you as his wife back then.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @vrystalius @sanemifucker @blunderland

[babyfoxflower]

hi! making a request for alastor x f!reader! maybe where alastor has a nasty jealous side and takes it out on reader????? in a good way of course 👀 just a bit of an idea!

Ooooooo! I love this idea!

Jealousy

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Jealous & Possessive Alastor, Groping, Scratching, Biting, Blood Drinking, Oral (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Cervix Fucking, Creampie, Also a little fluff at the end because I couldn’t help myself

“Well, well, well, looks like someone has a death wish, touching what’s mine,” Alastor’s tone was menacing as he narrowed his eyes at the man who had just briefly brushed against you.

His scleras were turning from red to black, and you knew what that meant. He was about to murder this man. He’s always like this but it gets worse when he drinks. When another man even just glances at you, he becomes a feral animal.

“Alastor, my love, it was just an accident,” you said trying to calm your overly jealous boyfriend.

“Haha, accident? I saw the way this wretch was looking at you from across the bar and now he has the gall to dare to come near you, the Radio Demon’s lady…” Alastor’s antlers were now growing, and you knew that you had to get him out of here before things escalated further.

The man was frozen where he stood.

You took Alastor by the face, “Come on, honey, let’s go home,” you gently whispered into his big fluffy ears, “let’s go home and you can do whatever you want to me, claim me as your own.”

Alastor looked at you and grinned largely and then he turned back to the man who was shaking in his boots, “You get to live this time. But if I ever see again, I’ll fucking tear your soul apart and broadcast your misery for all of Hell to hear. Hahahaha.”

You took Alastor by the hand and led him out of the bar.

All the way back to the hotel, Alastor wouldn’t stop groping you. He squeezed your ass and your tits, and kept kissing up and down your neck. You just let him though because you preferred him like this to when he was slaughtering someone. Plus if you were being honest, it was turning you on and you could feel your panties getting soaked by the minute.

Once you got back to your room, Alastor ripped your dress off of you and pushed you onto the bed. “Tell me, my dear, who do you belong to?”

“You, Alastor. I’m all yours.”

“That’s right, very good,” he said as he cut off your bra with his claws.

He removed his gloves to get a better feel of your mounds, he massaged them with his palms. You let out a little mew.

“Heh, I guess it feels good then?”

You nodded.

“But, I know my darling. I know you prefer pain with your pleasure,” he said before lightly digging his sharp claws into the tops of your breasts over the scars from the previous times.

“Fuck! It stings so good,” you cried out.

He chuckled darkly, before dragging them down to just before your nipples as he knew you had places that you didn’t like to scratched. He pulled his claws out of your tits and watched the beautiful blood start rolling down.

“Looks delicious,” Alastor licked his lips.

He ran his tongue across your chest, lapping up your oh so yummy blood. The sweet taste of iron filled his mouth and he moan profusely. You, yourself couldn’t help but moan and groan. You bucked your hips and rubbed your clothed cunt against his pants tent.

“Could that other man make you feel this good?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No, no only you can make me feel like this, baby!”

“You’re being so good tonight, my pretty pet. Saying all the right things. Letting me have my way with you. That deserves a reward, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before you could answer him, he was already kissing his way down to your belly and from there that special place between your legs. He tore off your panties with his mouth, “Look at that, so wet already, are we?”

You felt that familiar sting as he dragged his claws up your inner thighs. You threw your head back as you enjoyed every last bit of the pleasurable pain that raising through you, sending tingles up your spine. He planted a gentle kiss on your clit, knowing that it would drive you mad.

“Please, Alastor!” You begged.

“Please, what, my dear?”

“Give me oral pleasure, please!”

“Well, you did say the magic word.”

He started off with little kitten licks but that soon turned to long strokes up and down your labia. The lewd wet sounds mixed with your lovely moans filled the room.

Alastor began rubbing circles into your bud of nerves while still keeping his other hand gripped tightly on your thigh. He teased your entrance for what seemed like ages before finally shoving his long inhuman tongue into your weeping puss.

He reached it deep inside of you until he reached that spot. He started spelling the alphabet over it again and again with his tongue until you saw stars. You screamed out as toes curled and you came undone all over his face. He drank up all the juices that poured out of you.

“Tastier than venison and jambalaya combined,” he hissed.

Quickly, he removed his clothing and made you touch your knees to your chest as his forehead touched yours. He eased his thick member that was already dripping precum inside of you. Once your walls adjusted, he started pounding in and out of your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each hard thrust.

He moaned your name before kissing you passionately. Your lips moved in sync with each others, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself. You could feel yourself coming undone again.

“Bite down on me, darling,” he said exposing the crook of his neck to you.

You obeyed and bit down as hard as could, the sweet taste of iron now filled your mouth.

“Ah! Fuck! It feels so good!” He huffed into your ear.

Your walls clenched down on him as you had your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back this time and you went momentarily deaf.

His thrusts got faster as he was reaching his climax as well. Soon he went cross eyed and cried out your name as his thick seed filled you up.

Alastor collapsed on top of you. Both of you were panting and drenched in sweat. Once both you came down from your collective highs, you held him as he laid his head on your chest. You stroked his hair and his ears, he looked up at you and smiled softly. His genuine smile.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Alastor.”

You two eventually fell asleep and next morning, he already had your favorite breakfast ready for you.

[calmcoldevening]

could we get some dick & masturbation hc for Art? Describe what it looks like, how big, how often he does it, etc. stuff like that

Art the clown NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is as caring as possible for him. Art understands that you are a really important person in his life, for whom his "heart" is beating. So he certainly won't leave you alone after a hot night. But don't expect any super affection either. No. He'll just lie next to you and admire you. He really likes to see you so disheveled and wet, the thought that he made you like this makes him tough.

You're breathing heavily under Art, your hands are slowly sliding off his shoulders, because you're feeling damn tired, but happy. Art lies down on the bed next to you, putting one hand under your head, and stretches the other up, imitating the camera with his fingers and pressing the "snapshot button". Art giggles soundlessly, as if he really took such a photo, and now this piece of paper with you two will remain with him for many years. Then he turns to face you, watching your tired, relaxed expression. He briefly kisses your damp forehead, leaving a trace of his black lipstick on your face. Leaning back, he admires you with his trademark crazy smile.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Most of the time, he likes his fingers about himself. With their help, he makes various instruments of torture, "talks" with you, and also gives you pleasure. Art fucking likes to hear your sounds when he works with his fingers, he even takes off his gloves for this. But after the two of you have discovered your intimate life, Art can say with confidence that he likes his cock. Every time he sees you, especially if you bend down to pick something up from the floor, his buddy gets damn hard and hot.

Art likes a lot about you, perhaps. But most of all, he likes your voice. Art likes to rip out all those cute whining sounds and requests from your chest to speed up or touch you somewhere. He likes the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. It both excites him and seems sweet to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A lot. Dirty. He really likes to leave marks on you. It doesn't matter, inside, on the stomach, on the face. He can cum on your back or stomach and then drive for a long time over this white mass, drawing his name or hearts on you. He doesn't like using condoms, so you'd better use birth control (although he's a demon, it's not a fact that he can have children. And if he can, it's not a fact that the pills will help you)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Art would like to fuck you in front of other people. So that they can see how he can give you pleasure, make you scream because of the buzz. He likes the idea that you know about his murders. He wouldn't mind first slaughtering a bunch of people in front of you, and then fucking you among a mountain of corpses and blood.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

There is absolutely no experience. The whole "experience" is that before killing teenagers or adults, he often saw them fucking. But it's completely different from what he's experiencing with you. After your first time, Art really wishes you had tried it before.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He probably likes it when he's lying on the bed and you're on top of him. Art likes to look up at you when your face is so open to his observation. All your sounds, moans and cute facial expressions only make him pick up the pace. Art squeezes your thighs until they are clearly bruised and presses you harder against him. Anyway, it makes him feel superior, because only he can make you feel so good.

He also doesn't mind doggy style This is an opportunity to dominate you more. He will forcefully squeeze your hair to a slight exciting pain, kissing your neck, or caressing your breasts, which he also really likes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As your bodies entwine in passion, Art's usually playful demeanor shifts, his expression growing more intense and focused. The painted-on smile fades, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated concentration. His black eyes, usually twinkling with mischief, narrow to slits, fixed intently on your face and body. Art's movements are deliberate and forceful, a far cry from his usual goofy, comedic antics. He is completely absorbed in the act of making love, every thrust and roll of his hips calculated to drive you wild with pleasure. This seriousness, this total immersion in the act of sex, stems from Art's deep-seated need for connection and intimacy. In the heat of the moment, he is not the feared killer clown, but a man, vulnerable and exposed, your man. Yet, even in this moment of unguarded seriousness, a hint of the clown remains.

But after such a passionate moment, once you both manage to catch your breath a little, his usual playful personality will return.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is quite careless in this matter. Although Art cleans himself of blood and other entrails after murders, he is not overly clean. He doesn't care about his hair, either on himself or on his partner. But they are quite soft, so it shouldn't be such a big problem.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends on the events before your intimate relationship. If you just spent time together, then during sex Art will be quite relaxed and even gentle in its own way, but at the same time dominant. It is important for him to let the people around him know that you are his. He will bite you, leave you with small bruises from his strong grip and pull your hair. If Art killed before your sex, then the love session will be quite hot and animal. After the murders, Art gets damn possessive and hard, and the sight of blood on you only increases his arousal. You should probably hide his trash bag away if you want to stay whole after sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Alone in his dimly lit lair, Art's long, slender fingers wrap around his rigid member, pumping it in a slow, deliberate rhythm. His black-painted lips part in a silent moan as he imagines the sounds of his victim's terror and agony mingling with his own pleasure.

He jerks a lot after his murders if he hasn't you around him. Sometimes he imagines your face and your sweet sounds during your previous love session, but mostly he concentrates only on blood, guts and cries of pain and fear.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sadomasochism. Blood play. Orgasm control.

Art has an insatiable appetite for sadomasochism. The more pain and suffering he inflicts, the greater his arousal. He delights in defiling his prey, often leaving them mangled and broken in his wake. After that, he returns to you, filled with wild desires. The more blood he managed to get out of the poor victim, the more passionate he will be. He also doesn't mind hurting you too, but this case is already limited to simple cuts and bruises, nothing serious. Although he may well carve his name on your back in large letters. The sight of blood excites him like a real vampire, so it's better not to keep a lot of sharp objects in the house (and his bag too).

The fact that Art can control your pleasure excites him like nothing else. Being able to show dominance in this way caresses his ego. It's going to be a long time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Art doesn't really care where to do it. But still, he would prefer either your house or some kind of elongated gateway or something like that. If there are a lot of people around, it means that before sex he will have to get his hands dirty in blood again, and this will take a little time. Besides, Art is not against forests or abandoned places with a grotesque scary atmosphere. It adds some kind of thrill and animality to your intimacy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The answer is obvious: blood, violence, you, murder.

He doesn't have any specific preferences, so it's impossible to say for sure. But seeing you in a Halloween clown costume would definitely turn him on. Or there's blood on you. But not everything is clear here. For example, other people's sex doesn't turn him on (it will only turn him on if he imagines you and him in their place), pain caused to you by someone else (if it's your period, then he will try to take care of you as much as possible, and if it's another person, Art will kill them)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Other people. He doesn't like them. He doesn't like to share. You're his and his only. Other people are just meat for his fun and aggression.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He doesn't mind at all. Although he has never done anything like this himself, he won't mind trying it. It will probably be a bit messy and clumsy at first, but if you give him time and show him how you really feel good, he will certainly learn. With his long fingers and flexible tongue, it will be very good.

He likes it when you show him your love in this way or just want to please him. He likes to look down on you, this is another time for him to prove his dominance in your relationship.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on his mood, but most of the time he chooses to be slower. Art likes to torture people and you are no exception. It's just that it's expressed differently with you. He will quickly bring you to the edge, and then immediately use slow caresses to tease you. He likes all those whining sounds he can get out of you, those moans and whimpers. He's even willing to give up killing if it gives him the opportunity to see you as such a cute and squirming needy thing.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Again, he's a lover of slow long-term pleasure, so no. But if you still ask him to do it quickly, because you really want to, he, of course, will not refuse you, although he will hardly restrain his sadistic hunger.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

There are no restrictions for Art in anything (except to let other people into your love games). He is always open to new things and experiments. Usually he is the initiator of something new in your life in the bedroom, but if you suddenly have some interesting dirty fantasies, do not hesitate to tell him, Art is always for it. The only thing is, he wouldn't risk your life too much. Severe injuries can attract the attention of other people, and losing you will be a significant loss for him. You are his personal toy, which he protects and loves in his own way.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Art is ready for any number of rounds, but his human body also has its limits. Therefore, 4-5 rounds, with rare exceptions, a little more. Also let's not forget that you are a human being, and Art would not want to put you out of action.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Art doesn't rely on external aids, preferring to use his skilled hands, agile tongue, and sheer force of will to bring pleasure and pain to you. He may, on occasion, incorporate items from his gruesome arsenal as props for role-play or sensory exploration (damn garbage bag..)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Art is quite a teaser. He likes it when you whine because Art won't let you come, or vice versa, goes too fast. First, he quickly leads you to the finish line, then delays the orgasm as much as possible with the caresses of his long tongue, and then his skillful fingers continue to quickly stimulate you after orgasm until you break your voice.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's mute, babe.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Art has an unusual fascination with the sensation of his victim's or partner's heartbeat against his bare skin. During intense moments of passion, he'll often pause to press his lips or nose against the racing pulse point, inhaling the primal, intoxicating rhythm as it syncs with his own lustful tempo. This quirk adds a darkly romantic and intimate layer to his depraved lovemaking rituals, blurring the lines between pleasure and pain, life and death.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long and slender, it measures around 7-8 inches in length and 3.5-4 inches in girth, with a slightly curved shape that seems almost predestined for delivering deep, merciless thrusts. The shaft is covered in a thin layer of soft, velvety skin that's slightly darker than his natural complexion. When fully erect, Art's cock stands proudly from his body, the swollen purple head gleaming with a thin bead of pre-cum. Despite its imposing size, the organ is surprisingly agile and responsive, able to reach incredible speeds and depths during passionate encounters.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Art is always in favor. He often gets aroused during his bloody adventures, so he's more than ready whenever you want. Not to say that ln is a fan of sex, but he definitely likes this part of the human body.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't need much sleep, but Art can stay with you until you fall asleep.

[justnatoka]

Haunted

Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: This started as a drabble. Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: mention of injury

Prompt: "I'm pretty sure it was a ghost." / "I'm pretty sure it's not." / "Oh really?" / "Ghosts don't bleed."

Summary: After days of running you finally find shelter, both literally and figuratively.

Your panting filled the silence of the empty room, echoing back from the walls of the run down house you were hiding in. It was clear it has been standing abandoned for many years, decay and nature slowly sneaking in through the cracks and taking over. Lucky for you, one of the windows in the back was shattered, probably adventurous teens exploring the place since the door has been boarded up. It was a good enough hiding place for now.

A wave of pain shot through your shoulder as you tried to find a more comfortable seating position against the wall of the kitchen, a nice reminder that you weren’t out of the woods yet. You had been running for days, your body growing more and more exhausted. It looked like you finally managed to lose the hunter chasing you, at least for now. Hopefully, you can spend the day here sleeping.

The next big problem was your shoulder. You had no idea what he shot you with, but it wasn’t healing, not like you usually do. You were more resilient than humans of course, but if you didn’t find some help and soon, you would bleed out.

As you were thinking through your options, trying not to lose yourself to the fear gripping your lungs like a vice at your hopeless predicament, you heard gravel crunch outside. You were instantly on alert, quieting down your breathing, fight or flight taking over once again. You got ready to run if need be. It was possible that it was just some critter scurrying away in the dark, you thought, but then the sound came again and it was clearly something bigger, walking on two feet. As they got closer, you could make out three, four different pair of footsteps. It was not your pursuer, but that didn’t mean they were friendly. In your current state, you didn’t want to risk getting into an altercation with four people, even if they were just ordinary humans. Finally, you could hear them talking too.

“You think it’s haunted?”

“What’s the matter, Paul? Are you chicken?”

“Shut up, Marko. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Oh, really? Then why don’t you go in first?”

“I will! I’ll show you!”

You heard wood splintering, and it became clear that they were ripping off the wooden planks from the door.

“It looks like no one has been here for a while. I wonder why the humans avoid it so much.” It was a calmer voice that spoke up next, and your brain subconsciously picked up on his word choice.

‘Humans’? Is it possible…?

“I heard that there has been a murder. A man slaughtered his entire family. They probably think it’s cursed.” This one sounded amused, like he was laughing at the fear of others.

“You hear that, Paulie? It’s definitely haunted.”

“Man, shut up!”

They finished dismantling the barricade and the front door swung open with a loud creek. You didn’t take your eyes off the opening connecting the kitchen to the hallway, just a few doors down from the main entrance. As you were slowly and silently backing up to another door behind you, leading to the living room with the broken window, your only escape route, you bumped into a small dresser. To your horror, a glass tipped over and shattered on the floor. Your senses were probably dulled from exhaustion, otherwise you wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake.

“What was that?”

“Maybe it was a ghost. Let’s go and say hi.”

The footsteps approached and you quickly turned the corner into the living room, just in time to hear them step into the kitchen. They were too close. Then you heard a high-pitched screech, and someone fell over laughing.

“What the hell, Marko? Not cool, man, not cool! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You should have seen your face! Ow! Stop punching me!”

“What’s going on, boys?” The other two arrived to the kitchen as well.

“That glass broke, and I think I saw something move through that door over there. I’m pretty sure it was a ghost.” The voice belonging to ‘Paul’ said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.” It was the calm one this time.

“Oh really? How do you know, Dwayne?”

“Ghosts don’t bleed.”

Silence. Shit. Some of your blood was probably smeared on the wall you were leaning against earlier. You eyed the window. If you could make it there and get outside, the way is clear to the tree line. You can hide in the woods. But if you make a run for it, they would definitely hear it. Oh well, it’s not like you had anything to lose. You glanced back one more time towards the door to the kitchen before quickly turning around to bolt. You didn’t even make it two steps before bumping into something solid and someone grabbed hold of your arms. You panicked, clawing and scratching and hitting any surface you could reach, struggling and hissing, but you couldn’t overpower them. Myriad thoughts were running through your terrified brain. How is this possible? Why can’t I get free? I’m injured and exhausted, but I should still be stronger than an ordinary human. What are they going to do to me? Is this where I die?

“Look what we have here, boys,” came an amused voice from above you, and as you looked up, you stared into the striking blue eyes of the stranger. You quickly took in the scruffy face and the bleached blond mullet before trying to get away once again. You could sense the others stepping into the room behind you. You were surrounded. In your last desperate attempt you vamped out, baring your sharp teeth and hissing in the stranger’s face. His expression changed instantly, the smirk melting off his face. But instead of jerking away from you in fear, his brows furrowed, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“They are one of us,” you heard from behind. The man holding your arms was looking you over more carefully now, his scowl deepening at the sight of your frantic eyes and torn clothes, gaze immediately drawn to your wounded shoulder, still oozing blood through your shirt. His eyes finally met yours once again, now full of concern and, to your amazement, glowing yellow in the dark.

“What happened to you, sweetheart?” His voice was so gentle. You felt tears gathering in your eyes and slowly running down your cheeks as you collapsed in his arms, relief flooding your body. They were like you. They can help you. You’re finally safe. The word safe ran through your head over and over again. He wrapped you up in his arms, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing manner, letting you cry into his shoulder.

After your sobs quietened down, he led you over to the beaten up old couch, letting go of you in the process, but staying close. As you wiped the tears from your eyes, your vision becoming clearer, you saw three guys standing over you, all of them full of genuine concern. The one next to you spoke up again.

“I’m David, and this is my pack,” he motioned to the others. One of them, a blond with a friendly smile sat down on your other side.

“I’m Paul, this is Marko,” the one with the colorful jacket and curly hair waved, ”and the big, brooding fella is Dwayne.” He nodded at you in greeting. “What’s your name, dollface?” You muttered out your name, voice still thick from crying. Paul’s smile brightened, immediately making you at ease, your body finally starting to relax.

“What happened to you?” It was David who spoke up again, his voice somber and his face serious.

“Hunter,” you whispered out and they went rigid. You continued. “He’s been chasing me for days. I finally managed to lose him a few towns over, then I found this place. I thought I can hide here for a bit, get some sleep.” Your hand went to your shoulder, their eyes following the movement. “He shot me with something two days ago. I don’t know what it was, but I’m not healing.”

Paul drew in a sharp breath beside you, and you could see from the corner of your eyes as Marko started pacing around, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger. His steps echoed loudly in the silence following your admission.

“What do we do now?” Dwayne asked, his gaze full of determination.

David looked straight at you, his voice calm as he started speaking, but his eyes echoed the same sentiment you saw in all of them. They were not going to let anything happen to you.

“We’re taking you to Max, our sire. He will figure it out what you were shot with and how to deal with it.” He softened a bit as he added. “You’re safe. You’re one of us now.”

This brought fresh tears to your eyes and for the first time in many days, a smile tugged up the corner of your lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice full of emotion.

As you moved to stand up, your legs gave out. Your body has been running on pure adrenaline for a while, not being able to feed while being chased, and it looked like it finally has caught up to you. Before you could collapse to the floor, steady hands took hold of you and you were hoisted from the ground. Looking up, you were met with Dwayne’s warm brown eyes.

“You can rest now,” he said, sending you a small smile as he carried you out the front door, away from the house, away from the fear and desperation. Listening to the murmuring of the others talking, exhaustion finally took you over, resting your head against Dwayne’s solid chest, his steps lulling you to sleep. The future looked just a little bit brighter.

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 4.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, violence, beheading, blood

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At first, y/n watches Katsuki pack by himself. Eventually, he starts barking orders at her that she doesn't get. He keeps pointing at things y/n starts moving his belongings toward his dragon. Katsuki binds the bags onto the saddle with some rope. When he's done, he shakes everything one more time to check if it's secure. Y/n stands next to him feeling a little bit lost. She feels insecure since she doesn't know what's going to happen next.

"Will he take me with him?", she wonders. If he does, what will it mean? She's not stupid. Y/n knows exactly who is standing in front of her. Bakugou Katsuki, leader of the dragonblood tribe, tamer of the biggest beast known to mankind, slaughter of man. The last thing she witnessed herself.

Clearly, she has heard enough stories about his clan. About their ruthlessness, their crimes. How ten of his men can take out an entire village. She shudders when she thinks about what the stories say they do to women. Y/n gnaws at her bottom lip in distress. So far, Katsuki hasn't shown any aggression or ill intentions towards her. She wonders if the stories are lies or at least exaggerations.

Then again, so far she's only seen Katsuki. He is rude and mean. Thinking back on how he laughed at her when she burned her mouth, he also likes seeing people in pain. Moreover, he easily could kill her if he wanted to. What would it be like if she was in a whole group of men like Katsuki? Group dynamics often develop a strange momentum.

The point is, does she want Katsuki to take her with him? If he takes her back to his home, she would have to live with these people she's heard so many terrible things about. She doesn't speak their language, she doesn't know anything about their culture. How would she even fit it? Y/n shakes her head trying to push the thoughts out of her head. She can't even be sure that that's Katsuki's plan. In addition, what other option does she have? She knows her chances alone out here are grim. Teaming up with the big scary men might just be a chance to survive.

Just when she decided that, as long as no other option opens up, she might as well go with the flow, Katsuki whistles at her sharply. Y/n is ripped out of her thoughts. He stares at her angrily and shouts instructions at her. When he gestures at her to come over, y/n walks closer to him.

When y/n stands next to him and the winged animal, Katsuki explains something speaking rather quickly and wildly gesturing. When y/n doesn't do what he wants her to do, he grabs her hips and lifts her up the dragon. Y/n throws a leg around the saddle and Katsuki pushes her up. Then Katsuki lifts himself up into the saddle. Sitting behind y/n, Katsuki grabs the reigns and gives the dragon a sign.

While y/n still feels anxious about being so high up in the air, she's not as scared as last time. She still clings onto the handle until her knuckles are all white. Katsuki's broad arms cage her in which gives her some sort of comfort. At least she can't fall off on either side.

After a while, she relaxes and suddenly becomes painfully aware of how close Katsuki is to her. She can feel his abs pressed against her back and his breath against her ear. She shivers even though Katsuki's body warmth keeps her comfortably warm.

Katsuki seems to have a plan for where they were going. They fly for about two hours before the dragon lands on the outskirts of the forest. Katsuki gets down first before he helps y/n get down. Y/n feels a bit unsteady on her legs. The inside of her thighs ache and y/n excuses herself behind a tree. Lifting up her skirt, she takes a look at the tender skin on the inside of her legs. They're red and sore. Y/n's surprised the skin hasn't grazed off to a point where she's bleeding. Her dress wasn't made for riding a horse or a dragon.

*~*~*

Katsuki watches y/n disappear behind the tree suspiciously. He noticed how she was still not comfortable with flying. He wonders whether she needs to piss or puke. Scoffing, he turns around and starts setting up camp. When y/n wobbles back, she starts helping him.

They were just about to undo the knots of the rope that secured the bags onto the saddle, when the dragon shifts and lets out a deep, threatening growl. Y/n shys away. "Woops, does he not like that?", she exclaims. Simultaneously, Katsuki swirls around watching the edge of the forest. His hand rest on the hilt of his sword.

Suddenly, the buzzing sound of an arrow fills the air. Katsuki grips y/n's arm and yanks her to he side just in time. Her injured shoulder almost gets pierced again. Next, a bunch or rough-looking men attack their little party with roars of war. "Bandits.", y/n thinks. Katuski yells something at her and gestures at the dragon.

The dragon moves quickly. One second he was behind them, the next he is in front of y/n biting a man's head off. Y/n ducks behind the beast. She hears Katsuki swearing and blades clashing against each other. Y/n rumbles through her back for her hunting knife.

Suddenly, a hand is pushed onto her mouth and an arm grabs her midsection. The person tries to drag her away. Y/n struggles against the man's grip. "Keep struggling and you only make it worse for yourself.", the man tells her.

The dragon blocks the view and y/n can't spot or yell at Katsuki. The man keeps pulling her backward. Instead of panicking, y/n suddenly feels very calm. Living on the road, the wandering folk teach all their children basic self-defense. The scenario of being grabbed from behind is something her elders have practiced her a hundred times.

She prepares to free herself out of the man's grip. She stomps onto his foot and bites his hand simultaneously. She bites so hard, she can taste the metallic flavor of blood. The man yells in distress and lets go of her in his surprise. Swiftly, y/n draws out her tiny knife. She goes straight for his liver. She should've gone for his Adam's apple, piercing his throat, as her elders taught her but somehow she's not courageous or fierce enough to do so. Instead, she stabs him in the liver. However, she's not sure if her tiny knife could even cut deep enough to harm the organ. Nevertheless, it's enough for the man to fall onto his back and clutch the wound in pain.

Y/n swirls around. The dragon is busy fending off some bandits. Somewhere behind it, Katsuki's fighting. Suddenly, Katsuki stumbles backwards and into y/n's view. There's a cut on his bicep and cheek. He holds a sword in his head that drips with blood. Three more bandits come into view, all three attacking the blonde at the same time.

"I've got to do something!", y/n thinks in a panic, "He can't fight them all on his own!". It's not a rational thought. Her elders always drilled into her head that the moment someone carries a knife or another kind of weapon, you do not try to fight them. Despite that, y/n finds herself rushing towards them. Without a real plan, she jumps onto on of the bandit's back. Her weight is enough to make the bandit stumble backwards. It also throws off the other two momentarily giving Katsuki enough time to swing his sword at one of them. He cuts open one of the bandit's throats similarly as he did to the man from y/n's village.

Meanwhile, y/n is still holding on tightly to the third guy's back who tries to shake her off. Y/n clings onto his throat for dear life and the bandit has trouble breathing. Luckily, bandits usually are not skilled swordsmen thus the man is too disoriented to get the idea that he could use his weapon against y/n. Unfortunately, he's still larger and stronger than y/n so he does manage to shake her off eventually.

Y/n falls onto her butt. An uncomfortable pain shoots up her injured shoulder. The man swirls around to her clutching his throat and raising his saber. His face is contorted in anger. "You little bitch!", he roars as he raises his weapon to strike.

Katsuki sees what is happening out of the corner of his eyes. He's still fighting the other bandit but upon noticing that y/n is about to get killed, he turns to the side in an attempt to rush to her aide. This gives the bandit an opening to strike. While Katsuki reacts quickly enough to stop the bandit from piercing him with his weapon completely, the bandit still manages to cut deeply into Katsuki's right leg.

Meanwhile, y/n is quick to roll over and the saber misses her by inches. Quickly she's on her feet again, crouching and holding her knife up in defense. The man takes another swing at her but before he can fulfill the action, his head is severed from the rest of his body.

While y/n wasn't looking, Katsuki killed the second bandit and went to her rescue. The bandit's head drops to the ground with a loud 'thup'. The rest of his body falls to the ground still twitching. Y/n stares at the sight in front of her with wide eyes. The sight doesn't seem to faze Katsuki at all but he is out of breath and his face in contorted in pain. He grabs y/n's injured arm and pulls her towards the dragon who is still fighting off some bandits. From the edge of the forest more cries of war are heard as reinforcements of the bandits run onto the open.

"Shit.", Katsuki curses. There are too many even for him. Where on earth were these assholes hiding? He should've been more observant. He shouldn't have been so distracted by this stupid woman. He pulls y/n towards the beast and pushes her up. Y/n is quick to react and pulls herself up into the saddle just as Katsuki does just seconds after her.

The dragon beats his wings and the force of the air sends a few bandits backwards. Some still try to climb the dragon in an attempt to get to Katsuki and y/n. When one manages to grab Katsuki's foot, y/n stabs her knife into the man's hand who immediately lets go.

As they rise into the air, more bandits lose hold and fall onto the ground. Arrows are shot at the three of them and Katsuki pushes y/n's head down in an attempt to stop her from getting shot in the face. Once they are high enough that the bandits can't reach them, Katsuki lets go of y/n's head.

Just when y/n thinks they're safe, Katsuki turns the dragon around and steers it back to the bandits. "Is he absolutely out of his mind?", y/n thinks as they descend again. However, they never touch land. Instead, the dragon lets out a rumbling sound and spits waves of never-ending fire. Suddenly, the world is burning and hot. Y/n hears the cries of the bandits and the heat licking at her legs.

Quickly they leave again and y/n watches the bandits and parts of the forest burn to the ground over her shoulder. Just when they are out of sight, she notices Katsuki's heavy breathing behind her. She also notices how his grip on her isn't as tight as it was before. That's when she feels a warm liquid drop down her leg. Katsuki rests his head on her shoulder.

Y/n lets go of the handle of the saddle and grabs his hands with both of hers stabilizing his hold on the reigns. The last thing she wants is for both of them to fall off the damn dragon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[imsilay]

APPETENCE

hey, idk how i managed to finish A WORK but here we are. MDNI. please :>

“C’mon liebling, you can do one more f’me” he mumbled softly as his fingers caressed your spine softly, running up and down within the length of it. “Didn’t you missed me?” his voice thick and low with arousal. You whined and squirmed on his lap with the feeling of his cum oozing out of your abused and puffy lips. He had been going for an hour and he looked like he had no intention of stopping any soon. His big palms covered the small of your back and massaged the sore muscles, earning a grunt from you.

“Do you ever get tired?” you whined and buried your head into his cloth covered neck. His mask was covering his expressions but you could just feel him pout at your words. “No, liebling.” he mumbled, squeezing your sides softly. “And here i was thinking i’m the old one.” you could hear the faint disappointment hidden in his voice. You felt like someone ripped open your ribs and punched you in the heart. The last thing you wanted was to disappoint him. Oh and he made sure to use that.

That manipulative bastard. You hated him for knowing you so well.

“Just one more.” your muttered and god he was like a child who got permission to eat candy. The candy being you, he grabbed you by your middle and lifted you up until he could line up his thick cock to your entrance. You dug your nails onto his shoulders aa he slowly sunk deep inside you, his tip kissing the sweetest spot inside your pulsing walls. “So fucking good.” he breathed, head trown back to headboard. You could see his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as you sat still on his cock. Neither of you made an attempt to move, he relished the feeling of your walls engulfing his cock to the brim and you tried to adjust the fullness. You could feel the sweat sliding on your back as you got more and more hot. König wasn’t any different from you, his bare torso and neck glistened with sweat, his chest rose and fell with quick breaths.

He was used to all kinds of tortures but none of them were as hard as being away from you. Not being able to feel any part of you or hear your sweet voice drove him mad. He was barking orders and slaughtering enemies, taking all of his anger out off the poor recruits and unlucky enemies that dared to stand on his way. Yet being the killing machine he was, he never dared to hurt you. Even with his words he was always on the thin ice. Thinking thousands of times before saying a word to you and restraining his hands in his pockets around you so he wouldn’t be all over you. Sometimes the urge to manhandle you around almost would get the best of him and he would fold his arms around his chest firmly, the voices in his heads screaming at him to grab your wrists and pin them to your back. Then he could bend you over that couch and pound into you like his sick mind wanted. But no, the day his hands landed on you, he swore that he’d cut them.

Handling you was such a delicate job, and he was as careful as a gardener with their favorite flower. His fingers grazed the soft skin of your sides as he brought them up, up to your cheeks. His calloused and lengthy fingers wiped the tears even you haven’t noticed yet. You shivered although you were burning inside. Leaning into his palm you fisted the hem of his mask, wanting nothing more than ripping it off and kissing him like the whole night you wanted. But you knew better, he had a rule.

The mask stays on. Which unfortunately meant no kiss for you.

“Easy.” he whispered softly, other hand that wasn’t holding your face pushed you into his chest. Your cunt clenched around his hard shaft. Your arousal dripped and soaked his balls. You squirmed when your sensitive nipples brushed against his chest. You could feel his muscular chest and toned abs right against your bare skin. The skin to skin contact calmed you down but it didn’t helped the way his thick cock spread you open. “Calm your adorable little butt down liebling. If you keep squirming i won’t be able to wait.” he breathed, biting down on his lip and pressing your body still against his with two big arms. “Then don’t.” you moaned, snapping the thin ropes that kept him together. His arms hold you still as he started to drag his cock in and out of you.

He started off slowly, finding a pace that made you nuzzle his neck and breath him in. And he kept picking up the pace as your moans hot louder and louder until you were screaming and the bed was making creaking noises. He cursed under his breath then bit his tongue to not moan like the whore he was. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a quick maneuver you were facing the ceiling and his big palms were grabbing your ankles. He looked godly as he kissed each ankle before throwing your legs over his shoulders and making you squeak with his tip kissing your cervix. Your feet dangled over his shoulders as he grabbed your waist and lifted you slightly off the bed until the angle was just right and he was reaching the deepest part of you with the each thrust.

You grabbed the sheets for dear life as he fucked you nice, fast and properly. Soon your walls pulsed and clenched around him, forcing him to cum inside you and milking every last drop of his cum. He replaced you carefully on the bed slowly pulling out off you and watching as his cum dripped out of your cunt. He wished his phone was near to film it. After a while of adoring the view he slumped on top of you like a weighted blanked. Very heavyweighted blanked. He pushed his mask above his lips and lazily sucked hickeys around your neckline. He was imagining to do it since you were bouncing on top of him at the beginning of the night. “Mein, mein, mein.” he whispered, hoping that you wouldn’t hear or understand but you heard and understood. Like every other nights. You were used to being claimed by him. You were his, at the end.

-

not proofread no nothing, just enjoy :>

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>

[a-killer-obsession]

Pirate's Pet [Wire x Reader]

Pirates come to your town, and one decides you look too nice to leave behind.

CW: NON-CON, yandere!Wire, chubby afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, kidnapping, bondage, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, use of ‘daddy’, panty kink, slapping, spitting, oral (reader receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, forced orgasms, forced creampie, Stockholm syndrome, golden birdcage

WC: 2.6k

Masterlist || A03

You should have known better when the bell to indicate incoming pirates rang out over your small town. With no marines close enough to defend it, your town was at their mercy whenever pirates landed, and the bell was supposed to be the call to evacuate to the woods. You, stupidly, hadn't done so. You hated having to go to the woods, often having to stay there for hours, sometimes even days, until the all clear was given. Cold, wet, uncomfortable, getting pickled by sticks and small sharp stones whenever you tried to sit down. You thought that maybe this time you could just hide in the comfort of your home, instead of braving the heavy weather that had forced the pirates to dock in the first place. Big fucking mistake.

The pirates had broken down your door to search for goods, and when a tall man wielding a trident pulled you from under your bed and held you upside-down by your ankle, you knew you'd fucked up. He looked at you like a piece of meat, throwing you on the bed, ripping your blouse open to expose your bra, gagging you with strips he tore from your clothes, and throwing you over his shoulder like a slaughtered pig. Your relentless kicking and punching barely phased him, you may as well have been a fruit fly as he carried you back to the imposing ship he called home. You recognised his captain as Eustass Kid of the worst generation as the tall man carried you up the gangplank, the redhead merely laughing in amusement as you passed.

���Found yourself a toy, ey Wire?” Eustass laughed, “maybe this one will last a little longer.”

“Nice wide hips,” Wire reported, like he'd found a good sale at the market, and spanking your ass hard, “might be worth trying to get this one knocked up, she's got a good build for carrying a baby.” You screamed around your gag at the implication, Wire undeterred as you tried to fight your way off his shoulder.

“Aye, nice fat ass too,” another man, with pale blue dreadlocks and thorn like tattoos commented, “send her my way if you get bored aye?”

“Get your own, Heat,” Wire growled, carrying you up two sets of external stairs and through the door to the stern castle. He carried you through the short hall to his room, where he dumped you on his bed unceremoniously. Before you could scurry away he was grabbing your wrist and dragging it to the edge, where he cuffed it to a chain attached to a strong bracket on the wall. Before you had a chance to protest, he grabbed the other wrist and did the same with the opposite side, leaving you on your back in the middle of the bed, your arms spread out. It was clear he was set up for this, he'd obviously been planning to take a prisoner, and you'd been the only dumb bitch stupid enough to get caught. You kicked your legs at him, catching his face before he pinned your ankles against the mattress with his large hands.

“Do I have to chain your legs too,” Wire said flatly, removing your gag so you could answer him, “or are you going to behave?”

“BITE ME!” you shouted, spitting in his face.

“I will, later,” he purred as he wiped the glob of saliva from his face, “unfortunately I have shit to do before we can play, so you need to stay here and be a good girl.”

“Don't fucking touch me!” You screamed, trying to kick him again until he gave an exasperated sigh and chained you ankles as well, leaving you spread like a starfish. You tried to bite him as he pushed the gag back into your mouth, which earned you a hard slap that made your eyes water and quickly broke your spirit.

“You'll see soon that you belong here,” he cooed, running his hand down your front and breezing it over your breast, “perfect little thing, Daddy is gonna take such good care of you, and you're gonna look so pretty with my baby in you. Be good now sweetheart, or I'll have to skip bringing you dinner tonight, and we can't have that, can we? Gotta keep you nice and chubby so you're in good condition to grow my baby.”

You tried to scream but it was muffled by the gag, as Wire bent down and pressed kisses all over your face and down your neck, finishing at your breasts before he sighed contently and stood. “I'll see you in a few hours, then we're gonna have such fun,” he smiled before leaving you alone in the room, hearing the lock click into place as the door shut behind him. You fought against the restraints, testing for weaknesses, and when you found none there was nothing left to do but sob, hyperventilating as the gag made it hard to breathe until you ran out of air and passed out, your hindbrain taking over breathing for you now that you weren't awake and panicking.

You wake up to the sound of tearing fabric and a cold blade pressing against your skin as Wire cut and tore away your clothes, stripping you entirely until you had nothing but your panties on. He didn't want to waste your pretty lace panties yet, he could have a little fun with them before he tore them off too. “You're so beautiful,” Wire cooed as he pressed his thumb against your cunt to push the fabric between your folds, admiring how fat your labia were. He liked a girl with a bit of softness to her, what was the point of a girl if she wasn't lovely and soft and squishy? “I knew as soon as I saw you that you belong with me,” he smiled cruelly, “daddy's gonna make you feel so good. Such a lucky girl, you don't have to worry about anything anymore. No job or chores or other pirates, just gotta focus on getting nice and bred.”

You shook your head frantically, and he pinched your face hard in his hand, squishing your cheeks and making your lips purse. “No need to be shy about it,” he growled, “you belong here, you belong to me, you're not going anywhere so you can get rid of any silly notions of escaping. There's nowhere to go, we're out at sea and your town is nothing but ash.”

You whimpered as tears welled in your eyes, and Wire made soft shushes as he wiped the tears that escaped. “Shhh, shhh, daddy's got you now,” he cooed, “you're gonna be such a good mama, I know it.”

Wire settled himself to kneel between your legs, palming himself through his leather shorts, a noticeably large tent making your eyes widen. He unbuckled his pants and pulled out his long, thick cock, and you whimpered at the size. Wire noticed your fear and rubbed the head of his cock against your panty covered core. “Shhhh, don't worry mama, gonna be real gentle with you,” he soothed, “gonna get you nice and wet and begging for it first.”

Wire lent over you, caging you under his massive body and kissing you over the gag, before moving to your neck, groaning against it as he licked and nipped at your sensitive skin and relished your whimpers. Every little whine you let out made his cock throb, he couldn't wait to fuck your brains out. The head of his erection pressed against your panties, smearing precum over the fabric, the thin satin the only protection to keep his cock from forcing its way inside you. He trapped his length between your pussy and his hand, fucking the space between, rubbing against your covered clit. Your body began to betray you, clit swelling as arousal built from the friction, tears rolling down your cheeks as you struggled to refuse the stimulation.

Wire was quick to notice as the gusset of your panties grew wet, pulling them aside so he could run a finger between your folds to feel the slick you were making against your will. “Good girl!” Wire praised, “see, your body knows you belong here! Your pussy is so eager for me to breed you! Don't worry sweetheart, daddy is gonna give you what you need.”

The cuffs on your ankles dug into your skin as you fought to get away from him, unable to stop him as he tore the panties from your body, leaving you completely naked. He slid his shaft between your folds a few more times before deciding on something else, kissing and licking his way down your body until he was flat on his belly between your legs, his legs hanging off the end of the bed as he nosed against your pussy. “You smell so lovely,” he cooed, before licking a fat stripe up your cunt, chains rattling at your body went taut, “so sweet as well, mmm. I think I'll give you a reward before I fuck my baby into you.”

It felt like his tongue was trying to memorise every inch of your cunt, exploring every part of it, rolling against your clit and prodding at your entrance. You did what you could to pull tight the muscles there, but his strong tongue bullied its way inside you regardless of your efforts, lapping at your walls and making you produce more slick. There was nothing you could do to stop your body's natural processes when he was using his tongue so skillfully, if he hadn't taken you by force you would have been having a good time, but instead all you could do was whimper and struggle to bite back unwanted moans. You couldn't suppress the pleasured sounds forever though, especially not as he started sucking on your clit and pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to put pressure on your g-spot. The single moan you failed to hold back made him grin against you, knowing he had won, and quickly forcing a harsh orgasm from you.

You laid deadly still as your peak passed, making sad, defeated whimpers as he pulled his fingers from you. He crowded back over you, pulling down your gag and replacing it with his juice covered digits. “Taste how bad you want me,” he teased, “desperate little slut, begging to be bred. I'm gonna pump you full of so much cum it'll have nowhere to go but your womb.”

He gagged you with his long fingers before pulling away, focusing on lining his cock up with your entrance. “No!” You screamed, coughing from your strained throat, “please don't, please don't!”

“You mouth is saying no, but your soaked cunt is saying otherwise,” he grinned, grinding his length against you and letting his shaft get coated in your fluids, “don't worry, daddy will just give you the tip for now, until you can be a good girl and take all of it. We've got all night to mould your pussy to fit me.”

He pushed just the head of his cock inside you, slipping in easily thanks to his preparation, making short thrusts while you cried out for him to leave you be. He alternated between stretching you with the fat head of his cock, and rubbing it between your labia, each time giving you hope that he wouldn't put it back in before dashing those hopes away. Suddenly he sunk all the way in with a grunt, your warm wet hole being too much for him to resist, making you scream as he fully hilted his thick length in your tight cunt.

“You- you said you wouldn't!” You stuttered.

“I lied,” he grunted, “but look at you, you're doing so well sweetheart! You've got my whole cock inside you, I bet that feels nice huh?”

“No!” You spat back. He grabbed your face harshly and pinched it.

“Don't lie to daddy,” he growled, giving you a harsh thrust that forced a breathy moan from you. “See, it's good, huh? Nice and full! You'll be full of cum soon too.”

“No, don't!” You cried out as he started pumping you with his cock, your pussy making wet squelches as he fucked you. “No- hnng- s-stop, l-leave me alone! Hnng, fuck.”

“There it is,” Wire cooed, letting go of your face as you relented to his fucking, making soft moans as you failed to refuse how good it felt any longer, “there you go baby, I told you daddy would make you feel good. Let go sweetheart, you belong here, speared on my cock, taking all of me like you were made for me. Your pussy is fluttering around me, you're gonna cum on my cock soon huh?”

“No!” You denied, but your body was giving you away. The coil in your stomach was pulling tight, and you made heavy pants between moans as Wire gripped your hips and fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before, no doubt having the biggest cock you'd ever taken. You started feeling like maybe it wasn't so bad, being trapped here to be fucked and bred by a pirate, he said he'd keep you safe, right? Fuck, how long does Stockholm Syndrome usually take to kick in? Maybe you were just insane, or he really was actually fucking your brains out, so much that you no longer had the ability to think straight.

His thumb drawing circles on your clit pulled you from your thoughts, giving you the last push you needed to clamp down around him, coming with a scream and a gush of fluid neither of you expected. The not unwelcomed surprise made Wire groan and unload inside you, filling you till your overstuffed cunt was leaking. He took a few moments to rest against you, warming his cock and keeping his cum plugged up inside you. Eventually he pulled away, tutting softly as he saw the way his sheets were drenched.

“Oh sweetheart, you've made such a mess,” Wire cooed, “it's okay, daddy will take care of you. You've been such a good girl. Are you gonna behave if I unchain you?”

You gave a weak nod, your spirit entirely broken, disgusted at yourself for cumming not once, but twice, by your captor. You didn't move as Wire unclipped your shackles, pressing soft kisses to each limb where the cuffs had bit into your skin. He picked you up in a gentle bridal hold, carrying you to his bathroom and keeping you in his lap as he filled the tub, before lowering both you and himself into the water. He washed you slowly and methodically with luxurious smelling products, massaging your aching joints and your scalp as he worked shampoo into it. At some point you dozed off, waking in his bed, laid with fresh sheets, dressed in an expensive feeling satin nighty and tucked under mountains of blankets and furs. Next to you on the side table was a tray of food, not just scraps like you expected but good, tasty smelling food. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. He only wanted a baby right? You knew you wanted kids anyway. Maybe being the pet of some pirate who treats you well, spoils you and makes you cum hard wasn't the worst thing that could happen. Maybe you really did belong here.

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Oneshots Taglist: @daydreamer-in-training @chairmanraph @florcxo @luvnisstuff @nocturnalrorobin @fanaticsnail

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Working Away

Summary: Your boyfriend is away murdering people and calls in the middle of the night to get some help coming down.

Jason Todd x Reader

1.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, masturbating, phone sex,dirty talk, pet names, implied choking, praise.

AN: two things, 1 Im bored, so take this. 2. I can't keep up with the tag lists and soz.

"Come on babygirl, pick up," Jason paces through the loft of his new safe house. This is the longest he's been away from you since you started dating. He wanted to call you when he landed days ago, but things thinged and he just didn't have time between all the killing and patching himself up. Today was mania, he finally found the head of the group he was looking for and it ended in a slaughter.

Its been a few hours now and he can't seem to come down from this high. His blood is pumping, his cock throbbing in his jeans, fuck he just needs to hear your voice. If that's all he can have for the moment he will take it until he can get back to you.

"Good mornin," you whisper into your phone, your voice still full of sleep, "you ok?"

"I'm alive if that's what you mean."

"Kay, goin back to sleep."

"No, wait. Sugar, can you," he hears the rustle of your blankets as you adjust yourself in bed, "can we just talk for a while?"

"Okay, just let me put ya on speaker."

"Are you comfy?"

"Yeah I am now."

"Got all your pillows?"

"Ah, hmm."

"Are you cold without me?" He asks as he slips his pants off and lounges back on the bed, "or are you wearing my shirt?"

"Yeah, but it's losing your smell," you roll over resting your head on his pillow, the scent of his shampoo still lingering, "what did you want to talk about?"

"You. How pretty you are, how much I wanna kiss you, how I wanna lick every inch of your perfect body and how fucking badly I wanna be inside you."

"Blood-lust, daddy?"

"Yes, Sugar. I need you."

The sleep rushes from your body as your pussy starts to ache, slipping your panties to the side you slide your fingers through yourself. "I miss you, it's not the same when I do it. I can't-'' you shiver when your fingertips graze over your clit, "-can't reach all the places your big hands do."

"Tell me what you want me to do." He spits into his hand once, twice, before sliding it down the inches of his hard cock, "I promise to do it when I get home."

"First I want you to kiss me," your hands grasp at your akin, "like that night in the alleyway."

"Mm.. I remember that night, the way you melted under my hands," he closes his eyes, recalling how your eyes watered when his hand slipped around your neck and he thrust you against that wall, "how pretty you looked under that light. Then I picked you up and had you against the wall."

"Yes, Jay. I want you to pick me up," your hand slips further down your body, "then throw me on the bed."

"I'll rip that shirt off you, " His hand pumps faster on his cock, “and anything else that gets in the way of my lips on your skin.”

"Your marks are fading," your hand holds your throat, "I need new ones, daddy."

"I can't wait to give you more. To mark up that soft skin of yours while my fingers are deep inside that pussy."

"So deep, my nails stabbing into your back." You moan as the picture starts to form in your head, your fingers thrusting inside of you, trying so hard to reach that spot that he always finds straight away.

"You sound so wet, Sugar. Fuck, I need to taste you.” he growls as he cock starts to drip on his hand, “What you to taste all this pre that's dripping down my hand right now."

"I love the taste of you.” your tongue darts out, the phantom taste of him in your lips,” Love feeling it drip down my chin and my throat.”

“Fuck, it stretches that pretty mouth so wide, doesn’t it.”

“Makes me feel so full.”

“My favourite is feeling your teeth graze over me.”

“You love that tiny bit of pain.”

"I do, Sugar. We're perfect together. Fuck, I love you." He groans, "I need to cum, you think you can-"

"Me too. I want you so bad. Need to feel you stretch me out," you pant, your back arching off the bed as your fingers attempt to get deeper, "I can't do it on my own, daddy."

"Yes, you can. I need you too." His hand tightens on his cock, the way your pretty pussy always does when he fucks up into you, "you know I can’t until you do. Now be a good girl," he smiles to himself when he hears your breathing pick up, "press your palm into your clit for me and let all those pretty noises out."

"Jay, fuck. Keep going." you imagine him, sitting in his room right on the edge, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes shut as he imagines you touching yourself. Sweat falling down his hardened brow as he tries to focus while also trying not to cum.

"You're such a good girl, wishing for me. Yes, let them out, fucking h'll. Like music to my ears, sugar."

"I'm getting close, fuck. I ah- I- Jason."

"You wanna cum for me? You wanna come for daddy?"

"Yes, please, pelase, pelase."

"Then do it, I wanna hear all of it."

Your orgasm cascades over you, days of pent up pleasure exploding all over you at once. Your limbs shake and your mind spins and you can hear Jason's pleas all around you.

“Sugar, I need you. Fuck, can you beg-” he moans, his words choppy as he tries to form a coherent sentence, “beg for it.”

“I need it, please,” your voice still hoarse, “I want it.”

“Do you? Not- Ah, fuck me. -more”

“Please cum for me, daddy. I can’t- please please.”

“Yes, Sugar. You want it, you want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please, cover me in it.”

“I- Fuck, I’m gunna- I am- fuck, yes, Sug-ahhh.” he screams and you wish you were really there to drink it all down for him. You lick your lips, listening to Jason's incoherent praise as he comes down.

When he lets out a little sigh and you hear the thud of his back hitting the mattress you ask,. "Jay, when are you coming home?"

"I still got a few more days, Sugar."

"Okay," you roll over, snuggling into his pillow. The smell should be comfortable but at the moment it just makes you feel even more alone.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, I just. I need a bundle."

"I will give you all the cuddles when I get home. I promise."

"You better and that's not all I want."

"Tell me and it's yours."

"Everything you promised. Plus 3 days of uninterrupted Sugar time."

"You know I'd do anything for you."

"I know." You pause, shifting the blankets up and shoving a pillow behind your back, "Jay."

"Yes, baby."

"Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?"

"Want a lullaby?"

"Yes please."

You start to drift off to the soft hums of a slow song, Jason's low baritone seeping into your dreams and keeping you safe until he returns.

[sehtoast]

Rebirth (Homelander x OC)

18+ | heavy descriptions of gore, s4 e4 spoilers, the bad room, mentions of sexual abuse/trauma, torture, they're making each other worse in this one actually and homie deserves that kind of ride or die vibe | Fic Directory

“So, how do you feel?”  

Such a simple question for such a… gruesome task.  Benjamin had gone with Homelander to his moment of reconciliation.  Even helped him pipe sloppy icing writing onto that ugly little Carvel cake.

He knew everything.  Long ago, after busting into Stan Edgar’s personal terminal, Ben found the tapes and files on Homelander’s childhood.  Watching them had been sickening at best, but hearing the personal account as described to him by his lover over the years?

Even the do-no-harm bug himself couldn’t find a reason to prevent Homelander from following through.  He’d found John crying in front of that shattered mirror and pulled him out of his stupor once the banter ended.  Benjamin held him on the couch as he sobbed as he often did after run ins with the different facets of his psyche.  Used to be that there was no one to hold him at all, but the bug changed that.

Homelander would crash, but he would have somewhere safe to burn.

He thought about John’s various accounts of his childhood on the flight to the compound.  The incinerator, the bad room, how on edge he always was under the all seeing eye of big brother.

Usually the violent details emerged after nightmares.  Babbled words and cries for mercy as he tossed and turned until he’d shoot up in bed with his eyes primed to protect himself from his own memories.  Benjamin always held him afterward and listened.

“Sometimes I can still feel it,”  John would say, eyes glassy as he’d fight to keep those little shakes from turning into sobs.  No signs of weakness, no reaction.  Part of his conditioning– he cannot let the world know it hurts.  He cannot be a disappointment.

Ben would all but beg him to let it free anyway.  “You don’t have to be strong with me, pumpkin,”  he would always whisper.  “I love you even when you’re not.  Promise.” 

“But I– I have to be,”  Homelander would reply.

Benjamin always asked why.

John could never give an answer.

The worst were the more… intimate details.  Benjamin knew less about these, but there’d always been a sneaking suspicion that things along the lines of that happened.

Homelander spilled the beans after a panic attack during foreplay.  Stuttered out the details of masturbating during the security guard’s breaks. Doing what young boys do, he’d said.  Failing to finish in time and finding himself subject to mockery day in and out.

The resulting body image and self confidence issues, and the occasional difficulty with performance were all the consequence of some jackass further torturing the boy who never had a safe moment to feel what he described as the only good he could find in that awful room.  

Each time, Ben held him.  Promised him he was safe.  There’s no judgment, no mockery, no humiliation, and certainly no name-calling.  With kisses pressed to John’s knuckles, the two would talk it out until the world became steady again.

It’s why Benjamin doesn’t mind watching John laser that piece of shit’s dick clean off.  He doesn’t bat an eye to any of it.  The torture they face is but a fraction of what they’d done to that little boy– a drop in the lake of the things they swear up and down they don’t recall.

The axe forgets, but the tree remembers.

After listening in on Barbara’s account of Homelander’s conditioned obedience and the nature of his birth, he finds he has no problem holding her steady as his love slaughters the rest of them before her eyes.  

Bit by bit, he dismembers them.  Split them in two and paints the room with their remains.  He laughs and laughs, grinning wide and proud as he pries a man’s jaw open until his neck splits just to rip the tongue from his gullet and chuck it at her face.  He doesn’t stop until they’re no more than unrecognizable piles of flesh and viscera. 

True to their perfected teamwork, Ben webs Barbara to the wall to feast her eyes upon Homelander’s good work, and John?

Well, lasering the door and melting it forever shut was ingenious.

She will die in there, nice and slow. It’s no less than she deserves.

It’s heartbreaking to see how little it did to soothe Homelander’s pain.  Revenge, as Benjamin had told him many times, never quite worked out the way people wanted it to.  It’s potent for as long as it takes for the elevator to reach the surface.  It simmers during the flight.  Fades by the time they touch down at the tower.

And then turns to deep, lurching sobs as they shower it all away.

Release, yes… but not enough.  

It could never be enough.

“Johnny–”

“Homelander,” he chokes through tears. He’d been correcting people all day about his name.  “I’m– I just–”

Ben shushes him softly, thumbs swiping away the odd gooeyness of blood and tears.

“H-Homelander… just–” he tries again.  “Just for now… please…” 

Because Homelander was safe.  Homelander had the strength to overcome.  Homelander was the ideal and the power to protect himself.

The arms around Ben’s abdomen pull him impossibly closer.

“Homelander,” Benjamin murmurs, still stroking softly at his love’s face.  “I love you.”

Maybe not the best thing to say to the man claiming to be casting off the shackles of love, but certainly something always worth reminding him of while he crumbles.  There’s a million promises behind those three little words.

I love you when it hurts.  I love you when it doesn’t.

When it is ugly.

When it is beautiful.

As long as it is you.

His love succumbs to more cries, but Homelander knows, deep down, that it’s okay.

He is safe.

He is loved.

There will be no mockery. No humiliation.

Here, in the arms of his little spider, he need not be strong.  Here, he may simply be.

[lobbycards]

Slaughter’s Big Rip-Off, Italian Lobby Card (Fotobusta), 1973

[gildedkrone]

A TREAT 🔞 (CW:BLOOD)

The last of the enemy crashes to the floor in an undignified heap as König finishes them off with a bullet through the cranium. Before he can react, tableware goes smash into the floor when the behemoth of an Austrian is slammed back first into the oakwood table in the room.

He tastes you on his mouth when you yank his mask up to tongue him in a room of deceased hostiles and he backhands you to get you off.

“’S fucking hurt, Kö.” His eyes narrow into slits when you roll the words off your tongue and cradle your cheek.

“Not here! Are you stupid?” He hisses and you lean into his space with a head tilt.

“Really? Don’t fucking lie.” He fidgets under your glare—the colonel unnerved by a lowly sergeant and your grin is sardonic of a man having slaughtered the enemy forces with your commanding officer. It’s quick work with the streaks of red souvenirs of war.

“Get off your stupid moral high horse.” His eyes move, displeased; you press your pelvis together and yank his chest forward using his vest off the table.

“I want to fuck you right here, sir.”

He sneers and pulls you flush with him with a finger on your throat mic. Careful! You berate him; they just always seem to break for no good reason.

“Filthy dog, you want this so badly?” His native accent always came through when he’s snarling or sneering and by god, it turns you on and your fingers loop through his belt.

Then get it, mutt. And you practically rip his trousers off with your boss on his back on a table ass naked and surrounded by corpses deep in enemy territory. You slick your hands with spit before fingering König to prep him. No lube, no problem.

A pained groan triggers your instincts and your gun finds an injured enemy soldier on the ground. He barely puts up a fight when you grab him by the nape and drop him unceremoniously on the same table. He groans when you manhandle him to disarm him.

“Seems like we have a witness, Kö.”

“You can kill him when you are done here, bärchen. Beeil dich, bastard.”

Satisfied the enemy is too wounded to go anywhere, you sigh in relief when your dick springs free from its cotton prison and already semi hard from the firefight earlier. Thoroughly coated in spit, you push past König’s rim into tight, velvety heat encapsulating your prick in a warm cocoon made just for you as König let out a short grunt when you fully bottom out in him. You’re not small by any means, but he’s big.

Bloodlust melds into nothing more than physical lust when you give a few experimental thrusts as the behemoth grunted and groaned when his rim catches on the bulbous head. He curses a storm in his native tongue when you heave his trunk like thighs up to rest against your chest and shoulders. The new angle allows you to thrust even deeper and the warm channel greedily sucks you in each time you pull back with its walls clamping down hard to draw several moans from your lips.

Two men in heavy combat gear with less sense than one fucking each other in the warzone and you can’t lie—the perverse part of your brain loves it. Victory sex amongst the acts of you and König is a momentous occasion indeed and his hand cups your balls and fondles them when you taunt him again when the friction slows your thrusts.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He refuses to answer until you swipe a hand through the blood oozing from a knife wound in your left arm, all coagulated, to dirty his pristine, soft hips with patches of red.

“Du verdammter Bastard! Ich werde dich bestrafen, wenn wir zurückkommen!”

“I don’t understand you, Kö. How about this?” He swears up a storm when your hands, dripping with your blood, gives your dick several languid strokes. You make sure to wet yourself with more liquid red when you remember just how roughly his ass pulls at you.

“You like it, you fucking pervert. Admit it, you love feeling even more of me in you.”

“Schweig! You foul mutt!”

“Your foul mutt, Kö.” You grin and thrust easily into him—the sight of the 6’10 Austrian clawing at the table with fire in his eyes and blood stained skin—it all pushes your further towards your peak building in deep thrums in your abdomen.

König isn’t faring any better, with how whiny he rasps as his dick drooled messily onto his vest with his ass clenching and itching for more. The fury in his eyes belies the need to feel you seed his ass with hot cum and he gasps when a commotion from the side halts your thrusts.

The injured foe has decided to make a run for it and with your dick still in König, you free the gun on his thigh holster and fired. The enemy topples forward in a spray of red mist and as you turn back to your superior, he moans unabashedly and spasms hard around you. You watch as he emptied his balls in strong spurts as his ass becomes even more greedy than before and your grip on his hips leaves prints for days.

When he is all down from his high, you smirk and he snarls at the knowing look.

“You came from seeing me kill another man? You truly are most pathetic, sir.”

He swats your hand and you breath hitches at how soft his ass is after his orgasm. A radio transmission from Horangi interrupts all the fun and you pull yourself free from König. With you and him in a more presentable state and all traces of the coupling gone, Horangi appears in the doorway and beckons for the Austrian to join him.

Just before he leaves, you yank his hood down. My room, later and shivers run up his body when dirty streaks of blood and cum disappear behind your tongue and once again, König struggles to not cum when your fingers reappear all clean and wet.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

[jimraisedmeup]

Cornflake Girl

...he showed up all wet on the rainy front step wearing shrapnel in his skin and the war he saw lives inside him still...

pairing: au/drafted/military/PTSD Eddie Munson x reader (whose brother died in the same war)

warnings: war, language, angst, death. terrible childhood, poverty. talk of domestic violence. (eventual PTSD, eventual sexy stuff, if this goes multi-chapter).

word count: 1k

author's note: slightly thinking about making this into a multi-chapter.

~~~

The exhaust from the line of buses in the road choked you like the clammy, stone grip of Death herself. You found yourself in a trance - staring at the weeping mothers, the trembling young men - the only thing to shake you back to reality was a familiar firm grip on your own shaking fingers.

“...before you know it. Trust me, Wink.”

You stuttered over a response. “W-what?”

Your older brother Zeke raised an eyebrow at you with amusement. It’s the exact look that he had been giving you for weeks, and quite frankly, it pissed you off. How could you be so fucking casual about being drafted, Zeke?

In simple terms, the world as you knew it was ending. Your best friend, your big brother, your savior - he got that goddamned letter in the mail. 

Of course, Ezekiel Elliot Winkler didn’t bat an eye. Did he expect it? Well, you were sure he did. The newspapers talked about nothing but war. But… did Zeke want this? Your mind suddenly ran past all of the memories of the previous years; him and your father shoving each other around, Zeke ripping bottles of wine out of your mother’s frail hands. 

Your brother, only eleven months older than you, covering your ears in the stuffy closet you shared as your parents smashed dishes in the kitchen during a fight. You recalled how bad you shivered in the closet that night - probably because the furnace went out again, and no one had fixed it in months.

Probably as much as you shivered now. Zeke’s chocolate brown eyes were different from yours, lighter almost. His gaze flickered between your pathetic scowl and your hand, where your anxious thoughts manifested into a severe cuticle picking problem.

“C’mon, quit the picking, sis. How’s an engagement ring ever gonna look on a chewed up finger like that?” Zeke winked at you, knowing all too well that you swore off marriage over a year ago.

His sense of humor didn’t fade one bit, not even as the heavy bag slung over his shoulder. You helped him pack it the night before, last minute as always. 

You really want to pack this much? 

He smiled that toothy smile of his, dimples catching the shadow from the bare bulb above you both.

It’s all I got, Wink.

A deep gasp rose in your throat and you squeezed your eyes shut. Your memories escaped you suddenly, but then came rushing back with the enveloping squeeze of Zeke’s long arms lifting you a few inches off the cold pavement. He had always been at least half a head taller than you.

Ignoring the scrutinizing gaze of your mother, Zeke mumbled in your ear. “Just… hang in there. Please? Someone needs to take care of her while I’m gone.”

You fought the urge to argue, to protest. You didn’t want to watch over your drunken mother. You’d be eighteen within six months - who’d be responsible for her then? After all of the nights you both went to bed hungry, the narcissistic comments as puberty hit you like a semi truck. What the fuck did you owe her? 

She didn’t attend the funeral of your father when her car wrapped around a tree… only for her to walk away with nothing but bruises.

You were shocked that she had the motivation to leave the couch to send off Zeke. Hell, right now, you were stunned she was even slightly sober in the parking lot of Hawkins High School. But that was probably for her reputation's sake, not for her only son being drafted like a pig to the slaughter.

A sudden flash of silver caught your eye.

Snapping like a twig in the middle of a dry Indiana January, your neck craned instinctively towards the sight: two buses down, the flicker of a silver chain on the strap of a man’s duffel bag. 

Eddie. Your best friend.

Well, your former best friend. Before you had to start wearing a bra. Before your PMS and family stress turned you into a hormonal monster. Before he covered the tent in his jeans every time you smoked behind the bleachers with him during cheer practice. Before… before he did nothing but obsess over Chrissy Cunningham. 

You sighed.

Eddie Munson, born the same year, nearly the same damned month, as Zeke, got the letter in the mail, too. Duty called to him like a whisper in the night, beckoning him with a curling finger, looking at all of his failures, insecurities; Eddie didn’t think he truly had a future in Hawkins. So why not embrace the draft?

At least, that’s what you imagined it was like. Now, your puffy eyes drew to him like a magnet. Eddie looked drastically different, yet all the same. His long, curly hair was buzzed short again like it was when you were both in 5th grade. He kept his back awkwardly straight as he spoke silently to his uncle, Wayne. That tiny family was always so good at trying to make life easier for each other. 

You silently begged them to let the walls down. Shed tears. Hug deeply. You couldn't keep your teary eyes off of them.

Zeke said his farewell to your frigid mother as you focused on the sparse Munson family. Eddie held a firm grip on his uncle as he pulled him in for a meaningful embrace. As your childhood best friend turned for the bus, he immediately froze at the sight of you across the parking lot.

Fuck.

Your heart seemed to collapse on itself. He had always had that effect on you, though.

A whistle sounded nearby, tearing you from the invisible silver chain that connected you to Eddie.

“Zeke!” you choked out, refusing to let go of the strap on his bag. “Write to me. Please tell me you’ll write.”

“I thought you hated my scribbly handwriting?”

“Shut up!” You gripped his strap harder, pulling him forward in a gut-crushing hug, trying to ignore the feeling of Eddie’s doe eyes on you. 

The last thing you remembered was the easygoing smirk on Zeke’s face as he waved through the bus windows.

[linkspooky]

You're boring. You don't thrill me at all.

I received a few asks about Sukuna's comments on Yuji and decided to make a post about it. To begin with one thing I have noticed about Sukuna is that despite being the embodiment of arrogance and selfishness he's sometimes gracious and even praises the opponents he's fighting.

The complexity of Sukuna is that he can rip the NanaMimiko twins into pieces for daring to ask too big a favor of him for only one finger, but he can also a few chapters later take time to praise Jogo before he dies. He can praise Gojo with touching words even when Gojo in his afterlife segment believes he failed tor each Sukuna. He can also slaughter thousand of people just to get Yuji's goat. He's capable of being somewhat honorable if you earn his respect, and yet there's nobody he respects less than Yuji.

In fact, the way he treats Jogo is a contrast to Gojo, Gojo just mocks him openly in his defeat. Sukuna gives Jogo advice that he should have fought for himself instead of teaming up with others, and then praises his efforts.

He slaughters both Hajime and Higuruma, but in their dying moments he also seems to grant them what they wanted. Hajime wanted an answer on whether or not it was possible for the strong to love other people, and Higuruma wanted to die fighting. Gojo was lonely at the top as the strongest and he lost all identity, Sukuna cuts him down and he dies as a human being and Sukuna praises him saying he'll remember his name forever.

Sukuna sees all humans as insects, but he seems to divide them into the ones that are tasty enough to eat, and the ones he wants to squash. If you're worthy in his eyes, he'll even entertain you and play with you for a little bit. That's not saying much, but Sukuna is known as the worst curse in existence. There are small moments though where he seems to have a sense of honor, at least to opponents who earn his respect or catch his interest.

All of this makes the way he treats Yuji stand out even more.

Sukuna says that basically all of humanity is his toy box and he can have endless fun playing with them until he dies, and yet Yuji is the one toy that Sukuna doesn't want to play with.

It's not because Yuji is weak, because Yuji has been shown to steadily grow in strength over the series. Yuji doesn't have the mental handicaps cutting off his true potential like Megumi does either, Gojo says right away that Yuji's crazy, that he swings for the fences, that he's obsessed with getting stronger. Yuji may not be on someone like Yuta's level, but he fights side by side with Maki perfectly in sync.

Yuji is even someone who will walk face first into Sukuna's cleave and then keep walking.

It's not because he's weak, it's not because he lacks potential or handicaps himself like Megumi, so why is Yuji the one opponent that Sukuna just cannot stand?

Much like Mahito who also sought to destroy Yuji, and felt like he couldn't be reborn or become himself until Yuji was out of the way it's most likely because they are ideological opposites. Down to the roles they play in their world, Yuji is someone who has completely repressed his own identity in order to become a true sorcerer, a cog in the machine, one among many fighting for a supposed greater good. Whereas, Sukuna alongside Mahito were what Yuji identified as "true curses". Mahito said as much in his monologue where he attempted to break Yuji, that he is a curse, and Yuji is a sorcerer. The point of curses is to kill humans, the point of sorcerers is to kill curses they don't need any deeper reason to fight and it's not a fight between heroes and villains it a cycle. Exorcise, consume. Exorcise consume. Curses are born, Sorcerers kill curses it goes on and on.

Looking at it that way, Mahito is Yuji and Yuji is Mahito. They're both cogs in the same endless cycle of curses vs humans. Yuji doesn't keep track of how many curses he's killed, and Mahito doesn't keep track of how many people he's killed.

Yuji is suppressing himself to become a sorcerer. Sorcerers are cogs and cogs have a function. He wants to carry the torch that Nanami gave him, because Nanami is basically the most ethical and model version of a sorcerer, and Yuji's only imagined role in things is to keep fighting until he dies and then ideally passes the torch to someone else. Sukuna was a strong sorcerer from 1,000 years ago who died and became a curse to linger on in this world. Yuji was a normal kid (or a science experiment from Kenjaku) who decided to eat Sukuna's finger and then become a sorcerer and die for a reason greater than himself.

Sukuna represents the ideology of curses, while Yuji represents the total collective ideology of sorcerers from the modern age.

Sukuna will ask his opponents their ideology, he'll even sometimes give advice and share his point of view. He questioned Jogo's beliefs on whether curses were the true humans. he shared with Hajime his thoughts on love to give him an answer to his question. However, he doesn't want even want to engage with Yuji, he just wants Yuji out of his sight.

He wants to invalidate and disprove Yuji's beliefs because they represent the opposite of him and everything he stands for, but he also knows he can't.

Sukuna does explain in this chapter that part of the reason he hates Yuji is that he's been forced to share a body with him for so long and was forced to endure his thoughts long enough to know that Yuji actually means what he says his selflessness is the real thing.

You could also argue that Yuji is a literal cage that Kenjaku constructed to contain Sukuna. Sukuna's entire character is built around the fact that he has so much strength he has the absolute freedom to do whatever he wants, and in a thousand years the only thing that's hindered his freedom is Yuji.

I think it goes a step beyond that though, one is selfishness incarnate, who is obsessed with freedom to Eren Jaeger extents and the other is selflessness incarnate, who deliberately chains himself to roles. Yuji is willing to give up his free will to be a cog in the machine, because cogs have a function, they have a role and meaning.

That's the extreme of selflessness though, you give up your very sense of self. Yuji builds his sense of self over the roles that others assign him, not anything he does himself. His function, his purpose, is given to him by others he doesn't define it for himself. Sukuna even mocks him for it in the latest chapter.

Yuji needs other people to give him meaning. Sukuna on the other hands rejects the notion of love because he's never needed and will never need anyone.

Sukuna is all about his overwhelming sense of self, whereas Yuji lacks a sense of self entirely. By Sukuna's logic where strength comes from asserting yourself and burning everything around you, Yuji is weak, Yuji should have been crushed like a bug by now, but Sukuna hasn't crushed him yet.

Sukuna is the ultimate ideal of strength in the story. The only way to be strong is to get rid of your attachments and become a human calamity like him. Yuji's selflessness on the other hand is something that he's continually punished for. Yuji even thinks of himself as weak he says as much to Higuruma, people died, Yuji was unable to stop Sukuna because he was weak.

Yet Sukuna cannot get rid of Yuji, which challenges Sukuna's black and white ideals that all that matters is strength and weakness and the strong always triumph over the weak and devour them.

To change the subject for a moment let's talk about Gege's inspirations. Can you guess who Gege's favorite Fate Character is? I bet you can't guess.

While Gilgamesh is the unequivocally strongest hero in the Fate franchise, there is one character who is the natural enemy and the perfect counter to Gilgamesh. That is Shirou Emiya, who actually defeats Gilgamesh in combat in one of the three routes, something both gilgamesh stans and Gilgamesh himself hates Shirou for.

Gee, I wonder what the inspiration is.

However, there's a particular reason why Shirou and Gilgamesh are opposites besides the fact that they have relatively the same ability, Shirou can copy swords and Gilgamesh has every weapon in existence in his armory.

Gilgamesh is the first and greatest of heroes who defined what it is to be a hero and the heroic legend. Shirou Emiya is a fake hero. That's even how Gilgamesh refers to him, "Faker." Shirou has completely destroyed his own sense of self in order to be of use to others, because he thinks he is not allowed to exist unless he is saving others in some way. This is a pretty brief summary of Shirou's character, but because of survivor's guilt Shirou forgot his past, and identity and thinks it's unfair he got saved while others didn't. At the same time, Shirou saw the happiness on the face of the man who admired him and then became obsessed with the idea of saving others. Shirou can only experience happiness when he saves someone, and feels pretty much nothing otherwise. Not only does he save people for entirely selfish reasons, because of his survivor's guilt and to give him a reason to exist, but it's also not his own dream of being a hero. He stole someone else's dream, that of his father Kiritsugu who wanted to be a hero and who saved him and looked happy saving him.

I read in an analysis a long time ago, too long for me to remember who's it was that Gilgamesh will respect those that have a dream. When he fights Iskander in Fate Zero, while he completely slaughters him he also gives him his props in his last moments and honors him by killing Iskander with his full strength, because he respected Alexander the Great's dream of conquering Europe from ocean to ocean.

Which is why he cannot tolerate someone like Shirou, who has no dream of his own, no reason for fighting, only saving others for the sake of saving them and asking nothing in return.

Shirou wants to repress himself entirely and become an ideal, the same way Yuji does, it's just Shirou wants to become the ideal superhero and Yuji wants to become the ideal sorcerer.

There's another video I want to reference to illustrate how little sense of self Yuji has, and how conversely reliant on others he is for that sense of self. The video is [here] I reccomend the whole thing but this quote summarizes it pretty perfectly.

Yuji is the main character of the story, but the series own villain, and even a vast majority of the fandom constantly insists that he is not the main character, because he is so lacking in a sense of self. That's not a knock against Yuji, that's the point of his character. Shirou Emiya is one of my favorite characters of all time, they're similiar it's just Shirou goes to greater lengths to show how hollowed out he is as a person, how deeply unhappy and even mentally ill he is to live for the sake of others the way that he does.

Yuji wants to crush his own sense of identiy and become an ideal like Shirou, that ideal being the ideal sorcerer. Whereas Sukuna is defined by his overwhelming sense of self and his lack of ideals.

It only makes sense that they'd be at odds with one another, but Sukuna takes things a step farther he cannot abide by Yuji's existence because he's against the idea of ideals themselves.

Sukuna wants to believe that he is right to reject idealism and love, that he is not missing out on anything as long as he has himself and is strong. So far in life he's been able to poke holes in the ideals of anyone who challenges him, but he's spent so long in Yuji's brain he knows that Yuji's ideals are not false.

Sukuna doesn't just want to crush Yuji's hopes he wants to prove himself right. This is probably the first time in a thousand years he's even paused to question himself or think over his own beliefs because he's been so unchallenged and right.

Yet, Sukuna can't be right, by the very nature of the manga.

Jujutsu Kaisen isn't about one person being right, it's about balance. The worst person you know in Jujutsu Kaisen can have a point. Kenjaku does everything for his own amusement, but both he and Tsukumo Yuki agree that things in the modern Jujutsu World can't stay the way they are. Geto is a genocidal maniac but he's right that it's unfair for Sorcerers, especially children to sacrifice themselves pointlessly over and over again and if Geto hadn't been a close friend of Gojo's and went off the deep end Gojo likely would have never seen the flaws present in his own society.

Jujutsu Kaisen isn't a story about binary opposites, but one of yin and yang, of complementary ideals. Even a character like Sukuna can't last forever with his binary thinking, and Yuji existing and disagreeing with him is clearly having an effect on him. Sukuna's been so thoroughly challenged by his inability to crush Yuji outright that he's changed his goals. A thousand years ago Sukuna laid waste to sorcerers yes, but he was fine just being worshipped and bribed and getting into fights in the country side. He didn't destroy the world or anything.

His frustration with Yuji has gotten him to the point that he's willing to go full omnicidal maniac in order to challenge Yuji's ideals. That is how out of balance Sukuna is currently.

The manga won't land on the side of Sukuna being right, it will land on the side of balance, which is exactly why Yuji needs to challenge Sukuna as his antithesis.

The true answer however, will probably not lie in Sukuna's utter selfishness, or Yuji's selflessness, but rather somewhere in between.

[scnderlands]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲 𝒜𝐿𝒫𝐻𝒜𝐵𝐸𝒯 — j.slaughter

warnings + tags — MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DNI, female reader, mentions of sex, dacryphilia, blood kink, non-con kink, knife play, johnny slaughter being johnny slaughter, typical nsfw things

authors notes — I’ve been wanting to do an alphabet for some of the tcm characters forever, so why not kick it off with a dirty little johnny post? this is all for fun and games, so if you don’t agree w anything, that’s okay <3 I might make some more n/sfw alphabets if people want, too (also let’s pretend I’m not uploading this at 6am).

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

at first he wasn’t exactly understanding of aftercare, he was used to just fucking and leaving, you know, the whole family business. but once he got with you, you taught him what aftercare actually was and it became one of him favourite things — he’d actually look forward to it, not that he’d tell you that. the idea of holding you close to him, all sweaty and panting, both of you more relaxed than you ever could be, enjoying the silence and the come down from your shared high. what could be better?

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favourite body part of yours is definitely your ass and thighs, doesn’t matter whether they’re big or small, he just loves the soft parts of your body. he loves squeezing them, slapping them, biting them, laying on them — whatever, he is just borderline obsessed with them. but in all honesty, every single part of your body is his favourite, he’s just so into you that he can barely contain himself.

his favourite part of himself is his arms and hands, his muscular biceps and large hands make him feel manly and give him extra confidence, plus when he’s choking someone, seeing his hands or arms cover them completely kinda gets him going. plus he knows how much you love those parts of him, and that makes him like himself just that little bit more.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he’s filthy when it comes to his cum, he’ll have it everywhere — he’ll cum on your face, your ass, in your mouth, and even forcing it into your cunt and breeding you like you deserve. he claims you as his and him having his cum in you or all over you just cements that fact. it tastes a little salty but mostly just normal, he likes to think he has a “good” diet just for your taste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

johnny is a dirty little panty stealer, especially dirty panties. any time you’re showering or have gotten changed, he’ll pick up a pretty pair and shove it into his pocket, and he’ll act completely innocent when you ask if he’s seen them anywhere — he’ll just claim he probably ripped them to shreds when he fucked you, or threw them behind something accidentally. he loves smelling them while he’s masturbating (which isn’t often) but when he really misses you, then it just brings him that much closer to you. he has a secret little stash of them in his shack, tucked away in the back of a drawer, all different colours and styles just for his pleasure.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

no surprise but he is pretty damn experienced, but in the beginning he only really fucked for his own pleasure, not really caring about the other person. but when he got you, then all he wanted was to hear you moaning, to hear his name tumbling from your pretty lips. so he focused on and used everything he knew best, and of course he listened and learnt what you enjoyed — he basically became a god of fucking you, knowing everything that made you break, the things that made you quiver and come without him barely touching you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

surprisingly, missionary is his favourite, mostly because he likes seeing your face while he’s fucking you, having his hands wrapped around your throat or pinning your hands above your head. there’s something intimate about the simplicity of missionary and he loves that. but he enjoys mixing it up a little, missionary that turns into a mating press, and whatnot.

his second favorite is doggy, but because he loves ass, and it makes it easy to wrap his arm around your neck and pull you back into his chest. a secret favourite as well is forcing you into the full nelson, because what wouldn’t be enjoyable about that?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s more serious but it’s because he gets lost in the moment, he’s so concentrated on making you come that he doesn’t really take the moment to be more relaxed. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to laugh and joke on during it, he’ll often say things that makes you chuckle, especially when he’s being “sweet” — but he doesn’t make a habit to go out of his way to make a joke unless it’s to lighten the mood after an intense session.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

johnny is pretty well groomed, he often shaves his armpits and trims his pubes, mostly because of the hot weather so he likes to keep it shorter but also because he feels more comfortable. he definitely leaves hair down there though, and grows out his happy trail because he knows he looks good with it. and of course he leaves the little bit of chest hair he has. all of his hair is jet black, and pretty thick and straight.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can sometimes be nice and loving, slow and romantic. whispering sweet nothings into your ear, pumping in and out of you deeply, just showing how he loves you. but of course he has the moments, which is more likely, where he fucks you hard and rough, using you for his own pleasures. it all depends on the moment, the day, and his mood, but expect a bit of everything from him. but johnny has his own ways of intimacy, his own way of showing his love and being what he thinks is romantic, even if he is being rough the entire time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he rarely jacks off, instead he prefers having sex with you to relieve himself, but on the off times he does need to jack off, then he has specific things he’ll do. like stated he’ll sniff your panties or look at polaroids of naked pictures you took for him, picturing you riding him and moaning for him. he’ll edge himself a lot, too, your name always rolling off his tongue when he moves his hand nice and slow up and down his cock. other times he wants it over quickly, locking himself in the bathroom and fucking his hand hard and fast, just needing to come and get it over with so he can get back to his busy schedule.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

blood kink — need I say more? he loves eating and tasting people, and your blood is something that he loves tasting, especially when he’s balls deep inside of you. there’s something so intimate about licking the blood trickling down your neck and making love to you at the same time, something so intimate about sharing something like blood with each other. he also loves having you taste his, whether it’s from biting his lip or even just licking his wound when he accidentally cuts himself.

knife kink — again, a pretty obvious one, the man who walks around with a knife and cuts people up basically for a living? he likes the way you flinch under the cool steel of his blade, cutting your clothes off your body with it, leaving lines and marks on you. he’ll cut you if you let him, not deep enough to scar, but enough to get a little blood from you, two kinks for the price of one.

non-con kink — he loves having his way with you, especially when you’re begging him to stop or when you’re whimpering and crying. of course he doesn’t hurt you, instead he pleasures until you can’t take it anymore, until you want it to stop but he just won’t. sometimes he’ll grab you from behind when you least expect it, blindfold and gag you, tie you up and fuck you senseless.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he’s a simple man with simple pleasures, taking you on a bed or the sofa in his shack is good enough for him, anything with soft padding for him and you to be comfortable. but sometimes he likes to mix it up, fucking you in a victims car or bending you over a table in his mothers house and having his way with you. it depends on his mood like usual, it doesn’t matter where it is as long as he gets to cum in you — but he does have a preference for the risky areas, the outdoor places where you have the chance to be caught, or even just places where he didn’t bother locking the door.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he’s a pretty simple man so a lot of things you do turn him on, it can be as simple as seeing you all warm and bothered on a hot summers day or seeing you bend over picking something up off the floor. but some other things are a little meaner, like seeing you cry when you’re upset or when you’re annoyed with him and you pout all cute like. his favourite thing though, is when you’re angry or really upset, shouting at him, pushing him away or pounding on his chest to get him away — that instantly sends the blood to his cock.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there isn’t much he wouldn’t do, or at least there isn’t really any hard no’s. but he isn’t a fan of threesomes, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else touching you, pleasing you — he knows he’s enough for you and you’re enough for him, so why would you want to invite someone else into the bedroom? as for turn offs, there isn’t really many, something might turn his off once because of his mood or just how he’s feeling on that day but then it might not the next time.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

just like most people, he loves recieving and seeing you on your knees, especially when you’re choking and gagging on him. but he absolutely loves going down on you, he loves to pleasure you and anything that gets you moaning his name, he loves. he’s really good at it too, he was already good before he met you but he’s learnt exactly what gets you going, and god knows he can work miracles with that tongue of his. there are times he’ll go down on you for the sake of it, not even expecting it to be foreplay for sex. he’ll just push you up against something and drop to his knees, pushing your panties to the side and eating you out, then he’ll just go about the rest of his day like normal after making you come on his face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he goes between fast and rough and slow and sensual, but most of the time he likes it fast and rough. throwing you about and using you as a glorified fleshlight and making you come at his will is just too much to pass up. when he’s been more romantic or sensual, he likes to have you in missionary, his head buried in the crook of your neck where his moans and sighs are slightly muffled, and he can just push his cock into you nice and slowly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

as much as he loves taking his time with you, he loves a good old fashioned quickie, bending you over some car or throwing you up against a wall when he needs to relieve himself. he’s worse with it when he’s had a bad day and something has annoyed him, he’ll practically hunt you down just to fuck you. he doesn’t have quickies every day, but it’ll be at least one or twice every couple of days.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

johnny is completely down for taking risks, fucking you in easily caught places and places that are pretty dangerous — the most noticeable place being near his mothers house, or even inside, he’ll drag you off somewhere when you’re visiting her and have his way with you then act like nothing happened when you can barely walk. he loves to experiment with you, too, after all he has some pretty out there kinks that you didn’t exactly like or ever think about trying, but he respects if you have hard no’s — he’s a lot more caring than he pretends to be.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

not so surprisingly, he has a lot of stamina, and can go a whole bunch of rounds, but usually he’ll tap out after two, or a very long session. he enjoys having multiple sessions throughout the day rather than all at once, because then he can burn off all that energy and anger he gets during the day. during a usual session, foreplay included, it’ll last around 45 minutes to an hour — after all, he really loves taking his time with you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

so he’s pretty hit and miss with toys, he didn’t exactly like them at first. he was kinda insulted when you brought up the idea of having a vibrator / when he found yours, because he took it that he wasn’t good enough for you and that you clearly needed to have something else make you come. after you finally convinced him to just use it on you during sex, his entire world lit up. watching how easy it was to have you a quivering, blubbering, sniveling mess sent blood rushing straight to his cock — and now a lot of the time, especially during longer sessions, he’ll use it on you to tease or give his hand a little bit of a break if he needs it. he also loves making you use it on yourself while he watches, sometimes wanking himself off while you make yourself come.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s a huuuuge tease, loves to edge you for as long as he can, it’s even better if he gets you to the edge of coming on a morning then he can leave for the day — but he tells you not to touch yourself, because he’ll know — sometimes he’ll even “check” during the day to make sure you haven’t made yourself come. if you’ve been good for him then he won’t tease you for too long, but it’s rare he goes a day without teasing you just a little bit. he just loves hearing you whimper and beg for him, and he gets off on being the only one that can make you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

johnny grunts and cusses a lot during sex, or even when you’re just teasing / going down on him. he has no issue being vocal anymore, although he was a lot quieter when you first got together. now he’s completely fine with moaning into your ear, and he actually loves moaning your name, he doesn’t even care who hears — he likes you knowing how good you make him feel, plus he knows how much it turns you on having him moaning and cussing when he’s deep inside you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

okay I’ve said it a million times, and I’ll say it a million more, he’s actually really sweet to you, and treats you like an angel. at first he’d be a little mean, still saying things that would hurt your feelings or just scaring you by him being him — but once you’d been dating awhile, he’s the “hurt them and I kill you” type guy, the one that’ll kill for you, the one that’ll die for you. he’s so wrapped around your little finger it’s almost unbelievable, he’s so in love that he’d do nearly anything you ask — but he’s only like that when you’re alone, for the most part. when you’re around other people he’s super possessive and lets others know who you belong to, always having a hand around your waist or yanking you into the most sexually fuelled kiss when someone talks to you for too long. nonetheless, he’d protect you with his life and is actually really sweet, in his own way, of course.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

okay he’s got a pretty huge dick, it’s 7”-7.5”, and it’s girthy as all hell, to the point he needs to warm you up a lot before even thinking about trying to push himself into you. he’s not cut, and he’s got a big fat vein that runs along the underside of his cock and it’s super sensitive around there, too. the closer to the tip of his cock, the more reddish purple it turns, especially when he’s hard. oh and let’s not forget, he’s got big, heavy balls as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he’s ridiculously horny, that man has a crazy sex drive and it was kinda hard to keep up with at first. he has a naturally high one anyway but it’s made worse by his obsession with you — he needs to be in you constantly, filling you, making you his. as soon as he wakes up he’s there being needy, he’s the exact same at night when you’re going to bed. and don’t be surprised if he doesn’t pull you round the back of a shack to fuck you during the day, too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

johnny falls asleep instantly, there’s not a single thought behind that man’s eyes. and it’s made even worse when he tires himself out fucking you senseless a good few rounds before finishing — he’s the type that as soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s passed out snoring, mouth open, twitching and kicking you all night. or sometimes he’s just so still that you’re not sure he’s alive anymore, just perfectly motionless, couldn’t even be woken up by the end of the world.