#so for your viewing pleasure here it is again in its rightful place

[r4d14t3lov3]

Unbroken

[s0dium]

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑!!!

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d find out that your crush, Geto Suguru, was just like you: a murderer. Not only that but you share the same passion; killing criminals and pedophiles! (Happy Kinktober) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: DARK CONTENT, gore, mutilation, murder, mentions of pedophiles (y/n kills them), serial killing, unprotected sex, breeding, choking, teasing, knife play, whipped Suguru 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k 𝐀/𝐧: This is based HEAVILY on the novel Butcher and Blackbird by Brynne Weaver. The original idea is credited to Brynne Weaver ONLY. This work is fan fiction and is not intended for commercial purposes or to infringe on the intellectual property rights of the original author.

Being a serial killer who kills other killers, pedophiles, and rapists is a great hobby.

Until you find yourself locked in a cage.

For three days.

No AC.

With a body you carved up.

You glare at the fly-riddled corpse whose legs are kneeling opposite of you in the locked cage you were both trapped in. The air is thick with the putrid stench of decay, a relentless assault on your senses. The body's skin is pallid, marred by the writhing mass of white maggots that feast mercilessly. Where eyes once held gaze, now only hollow sockets remain, tediously scooped out and vacant. The ears too have been sheared off, leaving clean edges that blend into the mottled, blood-stained flesh. Its chest has been cracked open; ribs pried apart in a macabre mimicry of an unhinged broken cocoon, revealing the dark, empty cavity where a heart once beat.

Then, of course, the piste de resistance of your work, the removed eyes, ears, and heart rest in the corpse's upturned palms—placed with ceremonial care amidst the chaos of mutilation.

So now, if anyone were to walk down the steps of Gary Green House's basement, they would not only find his mutilated body, but the person who did it, trapped in a cage together.

"Fuck." You curse at yourself for the millionth time since you've been trapped here for the last three days. The cold realization that you've fallen into Gary’s final trap gnaws at your mind as relentlessly as the maggots at the corpse across from you. The cage, a cruel relic of Gary’s twisted pleasures, had seemed the perfect place for your ritual—turning the hunter into the hunted in his own den of horrors. But in your fervor to see him pay, you overlooked one crucial detail: the cage's sinister design, which sealed shut the moment its door swung closed.

The remote control, now a mocking symbol of freedom, lies just beyond the bars, on a small, grimy table. You remember the sickening click of the lock, the finality of it echoing in the cramped space as you turned back from the grisly task of dismembering Gary—his last, silent victory.

Even the idiot police could deduce that this was all your doing, seeing as all your bloody tools were still with you in your backpack. With fingerprints. It was just a matter of time before they opened the basement door.

You could practically hear Gary’s voice from beyond the grave: "Hah! Serves you right, you stupid bitch! That's what you get for killing me!" The taunt echoes in your head like a song over and over again and you're seriously contemplating banging your head against the iron bars.

"FUCK FINE!" You yell into the darkness. "I renounce my wicked ways!"

"That's a shame. I bet I would like your wicked ways."

You jump at the sound of a man's deep, smooth voice, the cadence of slight raspiness warming every note. Your curses cut the humid air from the startlement of the man's presence. How the hell did he even get in here? You didn't hear the basement door open. You scurry out of reach of the man who saunters into the thin thread of light from the narrow window, the glass opaque with fly shit.

"You seem to be in a predicament." He says stepping into view. The thin light from the window partially illuminates him, allowing you to make out his face. Oh rather, what is on his face.

Holy shit.

A ghost mask stares back at you, its hollow eyes and elongated mouth frozen in a chilling scream. The stark white of the mask contrasts sharply with the surrounding shadows, and you watch with wide eyes as he tilts his head.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

In any other situation, you might be fan-girling. You know exactly who you're staring at: the infamous Crucifer, a killer, like you, but notorious for his crucifixion of criminals in rather, flamboyant displays. The few eyewitness accounts of the Crucifer all mention the ghost mask, leaving no doubt in your mind about his identity.

While your hunting grounds have been Osaka, his have typically been Tokyo, but despite the geographical difference, his reputation precedes him. In all honesty, you shouldn’t be surprised he’s here. Your victim, Gary Greenwich, is notorious even among the authorities. Despite his crimes, the lack of solid evidence has always allowed him to slip through the cracks of the justice system, leaving him free to continue his heinous activities. He was high on your kill list, and it’s no surprise he was high on Crucifers as well.

He takes a few steps closer toward the cage to stare down at the corpse, bending to take a closer look.

"Well what happened here?" He chuckles.

You are on day three of no food. No water. The gnawing hunger in your stomach feels like a relentless beast, clawing at your insides with increasing ferocity. You wonder if your body has started to eat its own organs at this point.

You can't deal with this shit.

"Self defense." You say.

The man chuckles. "I doubt that, you're not his type." Despite his mask you can feel his eyes shift from the corpse to linger on you.

"And how would you know that?"

"Well disregarding the state in which you "self defense" left him, you're not a 6 year old boy. And," he steps closer so now he is inches away from the bars and his whole body is illuminated. "I make it my business to know."

You don't answer. Instead you watch as he crouches down to meet your gaze. You try to hide behind your tangled hair and folded limbs, giving him only your eyes.

And of course, just your luck, he is stunning

Black hair flows behind his mask and down his shoulder. He's wearing a black compression shirt that hugs every muscle of his biceps and forearms, accentuating his athletic build. His broad shoulders enhance his imposing presence, giving him the aura of a seasoned athlete. Black cargo pants complete his ensemble, practical and intimidating, with a hunting knife sticking out of his pocket, probably what he would've used on Gary if you hadn't got to him first.

Something about him looks familiar, something you can't put your finger on.

"I guess you made it your business to know too." He pauses before moving even closer so his mask is practically pressed against the iron bars. "Hey, you look pretty familiar."

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the prickle of anxiety creeping up your spine. Instinctively, you brush a tangled lock of hair from your face, wincing as it catches on your dry lips. The man's shoulders tense as if he has been electrocuted.

"Y/n?" His voice cuts through the thick silence like a knife.

Oh, what the hell.

You jerk your head up from your hunched posture, eyes wide in shock, meeting the unsettling, hollow eyes of the ghost mask. Your heart races, pounding loudly in your chest.

"Wha-"

"Oh my god, it is you!" He exclaims, his loud deep voice echoing through the basement.

"I'm sorry, I don't-" you stammer, confusion and fear knotting in your stomach.

"It's me," he interrupts, and with a swift motion, he takes off his mask. The sight of his familiar face makes your breath catch in your throat. "Suguru Geto."

Suguru Geto. The name alone sent ripples through your thoughts, dragging along memories and emotions you had long buried. Suguru wasn’t just any ordinary guy; he was a micro-celebrity in Tokyo, renowned for his breathtaking tattoo artistry. His ink adorned the bodies of celebrities, flaunted in TikToks and Instagram posts that garnered thousands of likes. His reputation was impeccable, his designs sought after by the elite.

You had crossed paths with Suguru a few times at various parties, your social circles occasionally overlapping due to mutual friends. Each encounter left an indelible mark on you. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t just his talent that made him irresistible; it was everything about him. Those hawk-like eyes that seemed to pierce through to your very soul, the perfect curve of his lips that could shift from a smirk to a genuine smile in an instant, and those dimples that appeared whenever he graced you with that smile—each feature was a weapon, effortlessly disarming.

You, like many other girls, harbored a secret crush on Suguru Geto. It was impossible not to. That face alone could kill, and his charisma was the final blow.

And now, here he was, standing right in front of you, unmasked and undeniably real. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and a little overwhelmed.

Suguru clears his throat, a small smirk playing on his lips from how obviously you are gawking at him.

"Shot in the dark here but are you the Mute Collector?"

You part your lips to say something but you can't seem to form the right words.

"I-"

Suguru's grin widens and a sharp laugh escapes his perfect mouth. "Oh my god. I knew it. I fucking knew they had it wrong about you with that bull shit profile they built. What was it, they said you were a 30 year old white man?" Suguru throws his head back and smiles at the ceiling. "And the Mute Collector? You? That's just awesome. I'm such a huge fan."

"Yeah..." You clear your throat and push your hair completely out of your face. He grins at you, as though awe struck, and if you weren't wearing 100 layers of grime on your skin you are sure he'd be able to see the blush flaming in your cheeks for a second.

"And you?" You nod toward the mask. "You are?" You don't know why you are feigning ignorance but something about humbling him seems tastier than actual food right now.

"Oh come on." Suguru's tone flattens and he brings the mask up next to his face.

"The Crucifer?"

You shake your head.

"The cross maker?"

You shake your head again. Lying through your teeth is fun.

"The Tokyo Butcher?" When you shake your head he sighs and stands up. "Well," he glances to Gary whose maggots have made their way to the empty eye sockets. "What do you say? We ditch this lousy scene and get something to eat. Maybe when you get food in your stomach you will remember some of my little nicknames."

Your eyes widen and your stomach growls loudly, reminding you of how long it's been since you last ate. You glance up at your Suguru, a mix of hope and suspicion in your gaze.

"Are you serious?" you ask, your voice hoarse from dehydration.

"Yeah, after we get you a shower, some clothes and burn the house down."

You gulp and stand to your feet. "Could we get burgers?"

Suguru grins before grabbing the remote and pointing it at the cage.

"Fine by me."

~

The Mute Collector.

Geto Suguru is sitting across from the fucking Mute Collector.

And god you are beautiful.

Not that he just realized it now. Like many others, he has always known how attractive you are; he just pushed it to the back of his mind. But now, knowing who you really are and what you do in your free time, your body has practically been encompassed in bright warm light and your head adorned with a halo. He watches as you down your 6th cup of water with a sigh and wipe your mouth with your sleeve.

The two of you sit in a cozy booth at a restaurant, the warm, smoky aroma filling the air. Suguru leans back with a beer in hand, watching you with a mix of amusement and caution. The waitress approaches, placing a large plate with a double cheeseburger and fries in front of you. Your eyes light up, and without wasting a second, you pick up the cheeseburger with your fingers and take a big bite, savoring the flavors.

Suguru chuckles, raising his beer in a mock toast. "You look like you've just found the Holy Grail."

He doesn't miss the way you stifle back a laugh, trying to speak through a mouthful of burger. "If the Holy Grail were covered in cheese and ketchup, then yeah, maybe."

He takes a sip of his beer, grinning. "I’ve never seen someone so excited about food. Maybe you should give up your little hobby and do food reviews."

"Well, that's what being trapped in a cage with the rotting corpse of a pedophile does to you I guess." You grumble, setting down the burger and taking another drink of water.

Suguru's eyes stay on you, and he takes the opportunity to really assess you. Your hair is damp, and the wetness seeps into the white Mickey Mouse shirt you're wearing, causing it to cling slightly to your skin and reveal the elegant lines of your collarbone. He bought that shirt and the shorts for you at a thrift store, and despite the fact that such clothes should look bad on anyone, you are rocking them effortlessly.

He can't help but notice that you didn't buy a bra, a fact that makes him smile to himself.

No bra.

"So tell me." Suguru sets his beer back on the table and leans in.

"The whole ears, eyes and heart thing." He waves his left hand in the air. "The police say it's satanic ritual stuff but I don't buy it."

You pause, a hint of a smile playing at your lips as you meet his gaze. "It's simple, really. Hear no evil, see no evil, fear no evil."

Suguru raises an eyebrow. "You have a way of making the macabre sound poetic."

You're about to reach for a fry, but he snatches it before your fingers could reach it.

"Why not the tongue?" He says. "You know, speak no evil."

You roll your eyes and snatch the fry out of his fingers. "Tongues are hard to cut, too slippery and make a mess."

He nods thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. "You know, most people would be horrified to hear you talk like that."

"Good thing you’re not most people," you reply with a smirk.

"Touché."

He watches as your lips wrap around the thick fry and your teeth rip off half of it into your mouth.

No bra.

"What about you Suguru?" You lock eyes with him. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?"

"You heard me. You swoop in all superman-like, save me from the dipshit’s pedo dungeon and take me out for a double cheeseburger. Why are you here?"

Suguru shrugs and averts his gaze from your unyielding stare. Shit, your piercing eyes are almost making him sweat.

"Same thing you already did. I was going to skin him alive and and display the fucking monkey Jesus style infront of his house. At least, something like that."

"Yeah but why him? I thought your hunting grounds were in Tokyo?"

Your eyes widen slightly as the words hang in the air, the weight of your mistake sinking in immediately. You feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, a telltale sign of your embarrassment. Your lips part as if to take back the words, but it's too late; they've already been spoken.

A sly smile spreads across Sugurus face as he watches your face fall.

"Oh you totally know who I am Y/n."

"Fucking hell."

"You do! You know that I like to hunt near my home, how long have you been a part of my fan club?"

You roll your eyes and fall back into your seat. You blink rapidly, trying to maintain your composure, but the subtle tension in your jaw and the furrowing of your brow betray your embarrassment.

"So which one was your favorite? The monkey I strung up next to the police station? Or the one I flayed inside the Tokyo Union Church?"

"Oh my god I can already tell you are going to be insufferable." You grumble, the heat of embarrassment slowly dissipating as you take a deep breath. Suguru leans back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he swirls the beer in his hand, watching you with an almost predatory curiosity. As seconds pass, Suguru assesses your face, following how your eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape route, and Suguru’s playful expression falters for a split second. He realizes with a sudden jolt that you're trying to leave. He can't have that. He needs to see you again.

"Hey speaking of suffering," Suguru clears his throat. "Have you heard about the women killings in Kyoto?"

Your eyebrows raise, curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I've heard. Pretty gruesome stuff. Why do you ask?"

A playful smile tugs at his lips. "How about a friendly competition? The killer's already taken six lives so far."

You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try to decipher his intentions. "What do you mean by a competition?"

Suguru leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's exactly what it sounds like. Who can hunt him down first?"

For a moment, you're taken aback, your eyes widening as you process his proposal. A mix of surprise and intrigue flickers across your face. "Are you serious?"

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction. "As sin."

"And what do we get if we win?"

Suguru's eyes gleam with amusement and something else—admiration. "Bragging rights, of course. And maybe... another dinner like this one."

You throw your head back and let out a laugh. "Oh yeah? Who says I'll need you to get me another dinner?"

"Can't let you go hungry again. What do you say?”

~

You sit at your desk, the dim light of your laptop casting a pale glow on your face as you scroll through articles about the woman killer from Kyoto. The room is quiet, save for the occasional click of your mouse and the hum of the laptop. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at the screen to see Shoko’s name. With a smile, you answer the call.

"Hey Shoko, how’s your night shift?" you greet her with a teasing tone.

Shoko’s laugh crackles through the speaker. "Busy as always. Just patched up a guy who thought he could outsmart a bulletproof vest with sheer willpower. Spoiler: he couldn’t."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Sounds like my type of guy."

By day, Shoko is your best friend and a dedicated med student, excelling in her studies with a, albeit, half hearted, passion for helping others. But when the sun sets, she transforms into the notorious Dr. Reverse, the underground doctor every criminal and lowlife turns to in their time of need. Using her medical expertise, she serves those who cannot seek help through legal means, operating in the shadows and patching up criminals who live by a different set of rules. In addition to her medical skills, she also deals in poisons, further cementing her reputation in the underworld.

You first met Shoko in a moment of desperation. After cornering a serial rapist, you were attacked with a machete, almost severing your arm. With nowhere else to turn, you sought out Dr. Reverse. Shoko skillfully sewed you up and, in the process, deduced that you were the infamous Mute Collector. To your surprise, she didn't seem to care about your identity, and you, in turn, didn't question her underground business or her dealings with poison. This mutual understanding and acceptance laid the foundation for a strong bond, and you've been best friends ever since. 

Shoko laughed, a sound that always manages to lift your spirits. "Right? Anyway, what's up? I saw your SOS text."

You hesitate, glancing at the photo of Geto Suguru on your screen on a separate tab. His annoyingly white teeth glare back at you, and you try to resist staring at his six pack in an instagram photo someone took of him at a pool party.  His dark eyes seemed to stare right through you, as if mocking your indecision. "It's about Geto."

There was a brief pause before Shoko's voice came back, tinged with curiosity. "Geto? What about him?"

You take a deep breath, your fingers drumming nervously on the desk. "He's the Crucifier."

Shoko's reaction was immediate and loud. "Geto is what?" she practically yelled through the phone, causing you to wince.

"The Crucifier. I know." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it all. "Can you believe it?"

Shoko let out a low whistle. "Wow. I mean, he always seemed like a guy with secrets, but I never pegged him for a serial killer, I mean, someone like you."

"Yeah, well, here we are," You mutter, rubbing your temples. You focus your attention back on your computer screen. Suguru is squeaky clean, not even a bad review on his website. There was only his questionable taste in best friends: Gojo Satoru—the biggest playboy and the infamous heir to the Gojo Company, Japan's largest and most influential corporation. Gojo's notoriety was legendary, his exploits plastered across tabloids and whispered in gossip circles. You’ve met, and been hit on by the man a few times, and not once did you fall for any of his slimy cheap antics. No, Geto Suguru is who your eyes fell on. 

 "And now he’s proposed some sort of competition."

"A competition?" Shoko's voice was practically dripping with amusement. "Like a hunting competition?”

You let out a snort of air through your nose. “Basically.”

Are you gonna do it?"

"I don't know," You admit, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. "I said I would, but I don't know. I barely know the guy. Well, I thought I did."

"Well, you should," Shoko said, her tone shifting to one of gentle teasing. "Besides, isn't this your chance to get closer to your crush?"

You feel your cheeks flush. "Shoko, seriously? Come on, that was ages ago."

"Hey, I'm just saying," she replies, laughter bubbling up again. "This could be your big break."

"You're impossible," you grumble, though you can't help but smile. "How's the side business, by the way?"

"Thriving," she says and you can practically see her small smile through the phone.. "You'd be amazed at how many people need a little untraceable something for their enemies."

"I don't doubt it," you say, shaking your head. "Just stay safe, okay?"

"You too, Mute Collector," Shoko says, her voice softening slightly. "And remember, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Always," you reply, your smile growing wider. "Thanks, Shoko. Talk to you soon."

"Later," she says, and the line goes dead.

You lean back in your chair again, your thoughts drifting back to Geto Suguru and the strange, dangerous world you both inhabit. As much as you hate to admit it, Shoko is right. This is your chance, not just to catch some sick killer, but to uncover the secrets that lie hidden beneath Suguru’s enigmatic exterior.

With a sigh, you close your laptop and stand up, determination settling in your chest. The competition awaits, and you have a feeling it's going to be a game changer.

~

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Suguru rolls his eyes at the white hair man’s mocking tone and continues to stare at his phone. It's been 10 minutes. How long does it take for someone to respond to a text. Suguru lay sprawled on the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone. Across the room, Gojo was bustling about in the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking and food sizzling filling the air.

"Is this about Y/n? The Mute Collector or whatever?" Gojo asked, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

Suguru didn't respond, his gaze unwavering from the screen. He could feel Gojo's eyes on him, the scrutiny almost tangible.

"I don't think I've seen you put this much effort into a woman since, like... ever," Gojo continued, his tone teasing. He turned back to his cooking, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

Suguru's jaw tightened, but he kept his silence. Gojo, undeterred, pressed on. "Besides the fact that she's the Mute Collector, what do you even see in Y/n? Well, I guess she does have other assets," he chuckled.

"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth, you prick," Suguru snapped, his voice low and menacing.

Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender, a laugh escaping his lips. "Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial."

Suguru continued to stare at his phone, his fingers hovering over the keys. "How long does it take for someone to respond to a fucking text" he mutters under his breath.

Gojo leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Maybe she's busy. Or maybe she's just messing with you. You know, playing hard to get."

Suguru finally looks up, his eyes narrowing. "She doesn't play games. And she's not hard to get—she's hard to keep."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by Suguru's reaction. “Touchy, touchy,” he mutters, returning to his culinary task.

Just then, Suguru's phone pings. His heart skips a beat as he sees your name flash on the screen. He quickly opens the message, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he reads your response.

Y/n: Fine, I'll do it. But what are the details?

Suguru: Oh, I'm thrilled

Y/n: Shut up.

Suguru: The rules are simple: whoever deduces the monkey’s identity first and guts the bastard wins.

Y/n: And how do I know you don’t already have a head start?

Suguru: I guess you'll just have to trust me. 

Y/n: Trust you? That’s rich coming from someone who literally stabs people in the back.

Suguru lets out a snort of air from your comment catching Gojo’s attention. “Ah, there it is. The smile of a man who's finally gotten what he wants.”

Suguru doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he focuses on your message, feeling a grin grow on his lips.

Suguru: You wound me, truly. But where’s the fun without a little challenge? Besides, I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you

Y/n: Easy, huh? I suppose you think you’re quite the genius, then?

Suguru: Only compared to the average monkey. You, on the other hand, might actually make this interesting.

Y/n: Is that a compliment or are you just trying to butter me up?

Suguru: Can’t it be both? 

Y/n: Oh, don't worry. You’re not the only one who enjoys a good chase. But don’t cry when I beat you at your own game.

Suguru: Cry? Please. I’ll be too busy admiring you in action. It’s a win-win for me.

Y/n: Flattery will get you nowhere, Suguru.

Suguru: Really?

Suguru: Not even a little bit princess 🥺?

Y/n: *One attachment*

You send an image of your hand flipping him off. Your middle finger nail is painted black and he assumes so are all your other fingers. His heart thuds against his chest. God, how he would love to have those nails dragging down his back. His dick twitches just thinking about it. 

Gojo snickers as if he can read Suguru’s thoughts and Suguru considers throwing his phone at the smug white hair man when Gojo’s phone rings. Any humor falls off Gojo’s features like snow from a shaken tree branch. He glances at the caller ID, his eyes narrowing, and picks up the phone with a serious tone.

“This is Gojo.” He says. His voice is gruff as he responds to the caller with clipped “yes” and “no” answers, his timbre low. “I'll be there in 30 minutes.” 

When he sets down the phone, Suguru meets his blue eyes, Gojo’s brief smile is grim.

“Trouble?” Suguru asks.

“Trouble.” Gojo repeats.

On the exterior Gojo is Japan's most infamous playboy and philanthropist. But by night he is the devil's tool, the country's most lethal assassin for anyone from politicians to presidents.  What Suguru and you do for a hobby, Gojo Satoru does for his job.

Gojo dumps his hot food in a container, grabs his hunting knife coat and bag and heads for the door. Before he exits, he turns around to lock eyes with Suguru.

“Be safe. A woman killer is a deadly combo.” He says.

Suguru chuckles, and for a second he doesn't know if Gojo’s talking about you or the guy in Kyoto. “You to ass hat.”  

~

You can't believe you are doing this. 

You can't believe that you took up Suguru’s competition, spent 120 dollars on a train and hotel room at Kyoto and an extra 20 on room service. Moreover you can't believe that you are here, hiding in a forest of bamboo shoots at the dead of night, watching some man who may or may not be the Kyoto women killer.

It’s a warm summer night, and every time the wind blows, the bamboo shoots rustle against each other, creating a haunting melody that sets your nerves on edge. The air is thick with the scent of earth and foliage, and the occasional hoot of an owl punctuates the silence. You’re crouched low, your body tense, watching a man named Noaya Zenin who you followed out here. He seems to be wandering aimlessly, but you know better than to underestimate him. The Zenin clan's reach is long and shadowy, and their involvement in the Kyoto women killings is a tangled web you’ve been unraveling. All key witnesses were either paid off by the Zenin clan or had lawyers representing them from the Zenin clan. The pattern was too precise to be a coincidence.

Your heart thuds in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, makes your senses sharper, every movement and sound more pronounced. You can feel the need creeping up on you, slowly reaching your brain until your skin itches with anticipation. 

Each minute feels like an eternity as you scrutinize Noaya’s every move. He stops occasionally, looking around as if sensing he’s being watched, and you hold your breath, pressing yourself closer to the ground. The moonlight filters through the dense bamboo, casting eerie shadows that dance with the wind. Your mind races, piecing together fragments of evidence and suspicion. If Noaya Zenin is indeed the killer, catching him here could be the breakthrough you need.

“Hiya.”

A scream almost rips through you when you feel someone's breath against your ear, but you quickly cover your mouth and whip around. Of course, you’re met face to face with the man you least wanted to see right now. Familiar hazel eyes gaze back at you, glinting with mischief and amusement. Suguru is crouched right next to you, his nose mere inches from yours, a sly smirk on his face. You didn’t even hear him approach.

“Suguru, what the fuck?” you hiss, keeping your voice low. Your first instinct is to grab your knife out of your pocket and press it against his throat but he holds both his hands up as if surrendering, stopping you.

“Woah woah princess, let's cool our engines.” He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Your pulse is still racing, but you force yourself to calm down. “You could have given me a heart attack. How did you even find me?” You seethe.

“I have my ways,” he replies cryptically, his smirk widening. “Besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun, now could I? So,” his eyes flicker to Noaya, who still seems to be staring at his phone. “Who are we looking at?”

“We?” You scoff and roll your eyes. “Are you kidding me? There is no we. This is a competition, remember? Go do your own research.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, come on. You know you love my company.”

Before you can retort, Noaya picks up his phone. You both strain to listen, and you catch his words clearly.

“Yeah, I’m at the bamboo forest. See you soon, babe.” He then hangs up the phone with a click and puts it back in his backpack. But just when you're about to turn back to Suguru and rip into the man, Noaya pulls something else out too. A hunting knife. A large one at that with serrated ends and a pointed tip that glints in the moon light. Just like the one used on the victims. And as if things couldn't get any more apparent, you watch as a wicked grin spreads across his face when he draws the blade diagonally through the air.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, eyes wide. “That’s definitely him. That’s like some comically evil villain shit right there.”

“Dibs,” Suguru whispers back, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he puts on his ghost mask. “I call fucking dibs.” He stands up, the crunch of leaves making Noaya whip around and stare right at the area you both hid in.

For a solid 5 seconds your two flabbergasted to even form words, you can only watch as Suguru steps out from the bamboo shoots and onto the trail, slowly walking toward Noaya like a lion cornering a gazelle. 

Or course, Noaya turns, screams like a little girl, and makes a hard right straight into the forest of bamboos.

“Oh hell no,” you mutter, leaping up and chasing after him. You sprint through the forest, the warm summer air thick and humid around you. Each footfall is muffled by the dense undergrowth, but the occasional snap of a twig or crunch of leaves marks your frenzied pace. Moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting ghostly shadows that dance along the forest floor, creating an ever-shifting maze of light and dark.

Your breath comes in quick, controlled bursts, each inhale filling your lungs with the earthy scent of the forest. Adrenaline surges through your veins, sharpening your senses. The rhythmic pounding of your heart in your chest matches the rapid beat of your footsteps. Ahead, you can just make out the faint silhouette of Noaya, his panicked movements betraying his desperation.

Branches claw at your clothes and face, but you push through, eyes locked on your target. The thrill of the chase ignites every nerve, propelling you forward with a singular focus. Suguru’s presence is a constant just behind you, his footsteps a steady reminder of the competition driving you both. You can hear his breaths, steady and calculated, mirroring your own.

The path twists and turns, the bamboo growing thicker, creating a claustrophobic tunnel. You duck and weave, dodging low-hanging branches and vaulting over fallen logs. The forest floor is uneven, riddled with roots and hidden pitfalls, but your reflexes are sharp, your movements instinctual.

The thrill, the excitement, the danger—it all converges in this moment. You are a predator in your element, and your prey is within reach. The bamboo forest seems to blur around you, time stretching and contracting with each heartbeat. This is what you live for, the ultimate test of skill and nerve, the ultimate game of life and death.

Just as you’re about to close the distance, your fingertips brushing the fabric of Noaya’s shirt, he whirls around with surprising speed. The moonlight catches the gleam of his hunting knife as it arcs through the air. Instinct takes over, and you try to dodge, but the blade slices across your palm, leaving a hot, stinging line of red in its wake.

For a split second, time seems to slow. You see the wild desperation in Noaya’s eyes, the way his chest heaves with exertion and fear. But there’s no pain, only a white-hot fury that floods your veins, fueling your next move.

Your grip tightens around the hilt of your own knife, slick with blood but steady. The cut on your palm feels like a mere scratch compared to the surge of adrenaline that courses through you. With a fierce snarl, you lunge forward, using the momentum to drive Noaya back a step.

He stumbles, his confidence faltering as he realizes the severity of his mistake. You don’t give him a chance to recover. You move with a predatory grace, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. The forest around you fades into a blur of green and shadow, all your focus locked on the man in front of you.

Noaya swings wildly, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. You sidestep his attacks with practiced ease, your fury giving you a sharp, clear edge. The scent of blood mingles with the earthy aroma of the forest, and your pulse pounds in your ears like a war drum.

You close the distance again, this time with a calculated precision. Your free hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the knife clatters to the ground. Noaya yelps in pain, his eyes widening in terror. The tables have turned, and he knows it.

Your injured hand, still bleeding, clamps down on his shoulder with a vice-like grip. You lean in close, your breath hot against his ear. “Nice try,” you hiss, the fury in your voice making him shudder. “But it’s over.”

With a swift, brutal motion, you plunge your knife into his chest. The blade sinks into flesh with a sickening thud, and Noaya's eyes widen in shock and agony. Blood spurts from the wound, hot and sticky, spraying across your face in a macabre mist. The initial strike is met with a gasp, a desperate, choking sound that fuels the savage fire within you.

A wicked grin spreads across your face, the thrill of dominance electrifying your senses. You pull the knife out, feeling the resistance of tissue and bone, and then plunge it in again, and again. Each thrust is accompanied by a wet, squelching sound, a symphony of carnage that drowns out the world around you. Blood flows freely, pooling at your feet and soaking into the earth.

Noaya’s body jerks and spasms with each stab, his strength fading with every violent assault. His once panicked eyes grow dull, the life draining from them as you continue your relentless attack. The coppery tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the scent of the forest, creating a heady mixture that makes your pulse race even faster.

You lose yourself in the rhythm of the violence, the way your muscles strain and flex with each plunge of the knife. Blood splatters across your face and clothes, warm and viscous, painting you in the evidence of your victory. Your grin widens, a feral expression of triumph and fury.

Amidst your frenzied stabbings, Suguru places a hand on your shoulder. "I think—" he begins, but when you turn around to face him he immediately shuts up.

Your eyes are wide, pupils contracted like a deranged predator. Your hair flows wildly in the wind as you grab Suguru's throat with your bloody hand, smearing the crimson on his skin and pressing him against a tree. 

"This woman-killer fucker is mine." You seethe.

His dick strains against his cargo pants waistband. You look divine.

“ Of course, All yours baby.” He coos.

~

Geto Suguru would be lying if he said that watching you tear apart that woman-killer wasn't the hottest thing he had ever seen. 

To Suguru, you looked divine. The moonlight accentuated the sharp angles of your face, casting shadows that danced across your blood-splattered skin. Your eyes, wild with the remnants of fury, glowed with an unearthly intensity. The contrast of crimson against your complexion made you seem otherworldly, a dark goddess of vengeance. Suguru couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the raw, primal beauty you exuded in that moment.

The walk back to your hotel was silent, but not because you were soaked in blood or because he felt awkward. More like it was because the only think he could think to say is “You are so fucking hot.”

Now here he is, twiddling his thumbs as he stands outside of your hotel door, trying to think of the right thing to say to you because god he needs to see your face one last time before he goes to bed.

He raises his hand to knock, but before he can, the door swings open. You stand there, your hair wet and smelling faintly of vanilla. You’ve clearly just come out of the shower. A tank top clings to your damp skin, and sports shorts hug your thighs. His eyes widen slightly, and he gulps, struggling to keep his composure. 

No bra.

The sight makes his mouth go dry.

"Just checking to see if everything is good," he says, nodding toward your bandaged hand.

You feel yourself fidget in your place and you try to flash a small smile but your emotions betray you. What if you freaked him out? What he saw back there, what you did back there, that was you, the raw you. Behind all the layers of kind smiles and pleasantries, in many ways, you were no different than an animal, consumed by your predatory instincts. You wouldn't blame him if he never contacted you again after this. Shit, did you just fuck up everything?

 His presence fills the doorway, and you’re acutely aware of the tension between you two.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks for asking.”

His eyes flicker down to your hand, then back up to meet yours. “How’s the hand?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

You hold it up and wiggle your fingers slightly. “It’ll heal. No big deal.”

Silence fills the void between you two and you clear your throat, searching for something to say to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. “Or are you planning to keep all the fun out here in the hallway?”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Sure, come in. But I warn you, it’s a mess.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” he quips, stepping inside. His eyes scan the room, taking in the organized chaos. Bandages and clothes are scattered around the floor and he doesn't miss the splatter of blood on the white sheets of the hotel bed. After a moment, Suguru turns around and takes a step closer to you, like he’s examining you. 

You tilt your head slightly, letting a smirk play on your lips. "So, now that I’ve won the bet, what do I get?"

He chuckles, the sound low and smooth, as he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "I was wondering when you’d bring that up." 

You arch an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. "Well? I’m waiting. What’s my prize?"

Suguru stops just inches from you. "I don’t know," he quips, "What do you want?"

You let out a short laugh, though it’s clear you’re testing him now. "That’s a big question."

Suguru's eyes darken slightly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, more intense. He leans in just a fraction, his breath warm against your skin. "Try me."

The tension between you two is palpable, electric. You’re the first to break the silence, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "I want," you pause, averting your gaze from Suguru’s hawkish one. “I want to know if I scared you.” The question slips out before you can stop it, your bravado faltering as doubt creeps in.

Suguru blinks, then a slow smile spreads across his face. "Scare me?" He repeats, as if the idea itself is laughable. He steps even closer, forcing you to take a step back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. "Scare me?” He repeats again. “You didn’t scare me," he continues, his voice low and sincere. "You… captivated me. I have never, and I mean never, seen something so magnificent as what you did. And that's saying a lot because I've done a shit ton of magnificent things.”

You sit down on the bed, more out of necessity than choice, as he looms over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel a mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something much more dangerous.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in place.

He smiles, a slow, almost wicked grin that sends shivers down your spine. "Well, I thought I might kiss you now, you know, after telling you how magnificent you are.” He tilts his head. “Is that a bad idea?"

Your breath catches in your throat as the weight of his words sinks in. You forget to breathe.

You finally find your voice, though it’s a bit shakier than you’d like. "That depends…"

"On?" He asks, his face inching closer to yours, his gaze locked onto your lips.

"On how good you are at it," you murmur.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Suguru closes the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s as intense as it is tender. It’s a slow, deliberate connection, his hands moving to cradle your face as if you’re something precious, something worth savoring.

The kiss deepens, and all the tension that had been building between you two finally snaps, leaving nothing but raw desire in its wake. You respond in kind, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, and the world seems to have shrunk down to just the two of you in this moment. Suguru’s forehead rests against yours, and he smiles, a real, genuine smile that you can feel in your bones.

"So," he says, his voice husky and low. "How was that?"

You laugh softly, still trying to catch your breath. "Not bad," you admit, your fingers running through his black hair. "Not bad at all."

"Good," he replies, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "Because I plan on doing it again."

Suguru’s lips are on yours again before you can even catch your breath, this time more insistent, more demanding. He’s not asking for permission anymore; he’s claiming what he wants, and it makes your head spin. The kiss deepens as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth with a slow, deliberate intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. You can taste him—warm, intoxicating—and you find yourself leaning into his lips, craving more.

His hand, warm and firm, slides down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest between your thighs. The touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of sensation through you, and you gasp against his mouth, your heart pounding in your chest.

But it’s too much, too fast. Your mind races, and you instinctively pull back, breaking the kiss. “Wait,” you murmur, your voice breathless, “I dont know if we should….” You avert your gaze and turn your head toward the wall but Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look right into his hazel eyes. Then, he dips his head to whisper in your ear.

“Aw come one Y/n” He grazes your earlobe with his teeth. “I’ve been on my best behavior, a good boy,” Suguru pauses to deliver a soft kiss to your temple. “I've been waiting, waiting ever since I met you in that cage to do this. Don't I deserve a reward for my patience?” 

You thickly gulp as he rubs the sides of your neck with his lips.

“I’ve been-” He kisses your jaw. “Such a-” he kisses his way up to your mouth. “Good boy.”

You cave. 

As his words sink in, you feel your resolve crumbling, the weight of his desire pressing down on you in the most intoxicating way. Before you can even process what’s happening, Suguru's strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the bed with effortless ease. His grip is firm but gentle, as if he's afraid of breaking you, and you can't help but let out a soft gasp as he lifts you off the bed and up so your head rests on the plush hotel pillow. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with intent, and you feel your breath hitch as the world narrows down to just the two of you. The room is filled with the sound of your breathing, heavy and uneven, mingling with the quiet rustle of sheets as he leans over you.

“I know you have been thinking about this too.” He coos. Suguru’s hands move with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your tank top, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to lift it. The cool air hits your skin as he pulls the fabric up and over your head, exposing you to his hungry gaze. But before you can feel self-conscious, his lips are on your newly exposed skin, pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “Just so gorgeous.”

His hands are on your shorts next, tugging them down your hips with the same careful slowness, as if he’s unwrapping the most precious gift. As the fabric slips down your legs, he trails kisses along the newly exposed skin, his lips brushing against your thighs, your knees, your calves, until the shorts are discarded on the floor.

Now you’re lying before him in just your underwear, and the way he looks at you makes your heart pound. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a hunger that makes your entire body flush with heat. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeats, his voice thick with emotion. “Just so damn gorgeous.”

Suguru straightens up slightly, his hands moving to the hem of his own shirt. In one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing his bare chest. The sight of him makes your breath catch—his body is lean and athletic, muscles defined and sculpted from years of discipline and training. Tattoos cover his skin in an elaborate tapestry. He’s handsome, impossibly so, and the sight of him like this, just inches away, makes your pulse quicken.

He doesn’t stop there. His fingers move to the waistband of his sweatpants, and he slides them down, revealing more of his skin, his strong legs, until he’s kneeling before you in just his boxers. The fabric clings to him in a way that leaves little to the imagination, and you can’t help but stare, mesmerized by the sheer physicality of him.

Suguru catches your gaze, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Something catches your eye princess?”

You nod, “Yes. You. All of you.” Your eyes tracing every line and curve of his body. He’s more than just handsome—he’s breathtaking, a perfect combination of strength and beauty that leaves you feeling weak in the best way possible.

He leans down again, his body hovering over yours, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Good, wouldn't want you to be disappointed.”

With that, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands trailing down your sides, touching, feeling, exploring. 

You are too lost in the kiss not to notice his hands slipping under your underwear and making their way to your dripping cunt, and when they do, you jump at the feeling of his index finger tracing your slit.

"Gotta get you ready baby.?" Suguru hums and you shake you head vigorously.

"No please Sugu~, I can take it."

You don't have to tell him twice.

In one fluid motion Suguru tears off your underwear, lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs.

"Been waiting to do this for so long," he murmurs as he pulls down his boxers and whips out his dick. You thickly gulp at the sight, you could've guessed he was big not this big, could he even fit in you? A white bead of precum dribbled from his pretty pink tip and down his length and he uses the liquid to stroke himself in a few fluid motions.

You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Suguru please~" You whine and nearly miss the way his ears go bright red at your words

"I know baby, I know. Don't worry, lift your hips for me love?”

You oblige and immediately when you do so you're struck with the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Suguru let out a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“F-fuck I can feel you doing it to me,” he said hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Suguru thrusts into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

You dont even realize that your eyes are closed until Suguru whispers into your ear.

“Come on baby, open those pretty eyes, look at me.”

You do as he says and when you do you feel your heart thud in your chest. Suguru’s eyes were fixated completely on you, how you were reacting, as his hips were continuously slamming into your body as if it were clockwork. The sight alone had your walls clamping down on him, earning a groan from the base of his chest. 

Suddenly, the hand that had been intertwined with yours released its grip and began to rummage through Suguru’s discarded pants. Your breath hitched, eyes glazed over as you watched him retrieve a knife from his pocket, unsheathing it effortlessly with a flick of his finger. The sharp glint of the blade caught your attention from beneath Suguru’s body, even as he continued thrusting into you, not missing a beat.

Your body reacted instinctively, clenching at the sight, drawing a low, dark chuckle from Suguru.

“Hah, I knew it,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge as he brought the cold steel to the base of your throat. “You’re just a slut for knives, aren’t you?”

A moan escaped your lips, the sound betraying any chance of denial. Suguru took it as an admission, pressing the blade firmly against the skin of your throat as he angled his hips to hit even deeper inside you. The cool metal at your throat was electrifying, but it was his other hand, strong and unyielding, that sent a euphoric thrill coursing through you. His fingers flexed, tightening around your neck, the pressure intensifying.

It wasn’t just the air being cut off—it was the dizzying, intoxicating pleasure that came with it. The way his grip constricted, pushing you to the edge of control, ignited something raw inside. Every squeeze of his hand made your body burn hotter, a perfect balance between pain and pleasure, leaving you gasping for more.

What a primal dirty sight you where, being choked with a blade against your throat while fucked brutaly. Even the devil would clutch his rosaries.  

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" Suguru grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. “Because we were doing it like this in mine.” Good? Try euphoric, how could he ever think his fist could substitute the wet squeeze of your cunt?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls and the adrenaline from the knife is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion Suguru makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

"Come on eyes on me when I fuck you baby~" Suguru releases his hold from your neck and snakes his fingers between your body , finding your clit and pressing down on the pearl back and forth with the pad of index finger. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how badly you want to cum.

He doesn’t slow the ministrations on your clit for a second as he snaps his hips into you with primal vigor, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.

"So good Sugu!" You sob. You cant even open your eyes from the colors you're seeing behind your lids. Every time your pussy squeezes around him not only do bolts of pleasure shoot up your body but a ring of milky white cum forms around the base of his cock.

Suguru’s eyes are locked on how good you're taking him - the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He lets out a sharp moan at how wet you are on the inside.

"S-shit baby wanna feel you cum on me, been waiting so long." Suguru is not a whining man but here he is practically stumbling over his words. Fuck, he wants to keep himself inside you forever. He wants your kisses, your skin, your touch, your blood, your lips, to be his to claim until you die together. No one has seen, truly seen him, before you. You are what he thinks about when he wakes up, when he is eating, when he is plunging his knife into some worthless monkey. You are his goddess. 

The world beyond this intimate cocoon of warmth and breath seemed distant, irrelevant. His gaze was locked with yours, deep and unwavering, a silent communication that tethered you through the mind numbing ecstasy.

Then, he reels his hips back and slams into you in a new angle that has your body jerking.

“Found it didn't I?” He breathes through a smile and pummels into you with vigor. And your about to disagree with him, insist that the feeling is too new and foreign to feel good when all of a sudden your body begins to shake and your head starts to feel fuzzy

And suddenly—you feel it. What you’ve been craving for and what you have seen in porn.

Its like all your body's energy centers are activating at once and your left utterly helpless to the feeling of tingling ecstasy wrapping your brain and stomach.

You dont know how to tell him that something is happening, not when the pleasure is too immense your barely breathing full breaths. But he understands once again the words you tried desperately to communicate.

“Do it baby. Cum. I’ll fill you up, and if it spills I'll fuck it back into you"

So you do.

Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to Suguru as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

“Ah, princess, please,” he moaned. “Be a good girl and take it all, yeah?” 

Your fingers trailed up his shoulder, only to drag them back down his spine, nails biting into his skin as he buried himself deep inside you, releasing with a powerful shudder. His movements grew erratic, hips pressing yours firmly into the mattress as his hot breath skimmed across your neck, ragged and heavy.

The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, lost in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the feel of his touch to guide you.

The warmth of his cum spreads through your body with a shiver, and you can feel the liquid expanding against your walls while he kept you plugged and full of him. As you both floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breaths came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"You're mine ok?" Suguru coos, and all you can do is dumbly nod.

"I'll die for you, I'll kill a thousand monkeys for you, i'll hold them down so you can cut our their eyes. Just stay by my side."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

best friends dad

words: 500

warnings: 18+ only!, extreme age gap!, dub/NONCON!!, aged up!rafe, husband! and father!rafe, cheating, reader is described as barely 18, rafe is readers best friends dad, daddy kink, over clothes sex, cumming in pants, threats (including of falsely accusing of r*pe)

part one / part two / part three

“s-stop it.” rafe says, but instead of his hands trying to push you off his lap, they stay planted firmly on your hips.

“why should i stop?” you hum. “you know i can feel how hard you are, right?”

“you’re my daughters best friend, we-we can’t be doing this.” rafe is struggling to keep his eyes open. he hasn’t felt this kind of pleasure in years, as his marriage stretched out longer and became unhappy, as his kids grew up.

“wow, no thought of your wife huh?” you giggle. your best friend already told you everything. every little details of her parents fighting, not realizing why you were so interested.

“please. you’re too young.” rafe begs. technically legal, sure, but barely, with rafe being over twice your age, only a few years younger than your own father.

“you’re big and strong. if you wanted me to really stop, you would just force me off.” you continue to grind down, your shorts and his khakis separating you, but you can feel his straining length easily.

“this is not appropriate.” rafe groans out, his hands squeezing tighter at your hips.

“but you love it.” you smirk, moving faster, adding a slight bounce to your grind. “you love how young i am. it gets you off.” “what do you want from me?” rafe asks, a few moans slipping out of his mouth.

“i want you to fuck me, duh.” you roll your eyes like its obvious. you tug at your shirt, already low cut, typical revealing outfit that you always wear when you know your best friends dad will be around.

rafe doesn’t respond, his eyes half open, attempting to watch as you tug the front of your shirt down to reveal your bra, lacey and tight to your skin, nipples clearly poking through. 

“come on, daddy.” you coo. “i want your cock.”

“fuck!” rafe shouts out, praying no one is listening, especially not his daughter. “i’m cumming!”

you grind harder, with more determination as you feel rafe soak his pants. you smile, pulling back to look down at the dark patch in his previously pristine pants.

“damn, you like being called daddy then huh?” you giggle, leaning forward to press a kiss to rafes lips, his mouth still open, jaw slackened as he breathes heavily.

“you need to leave, right now.” he manages to push you off now that his head isn’t being overrun by pleasure.

“i don’t think so.” you shake your head as he places you down on the couch. “you got to cum, but i didn’t. so you better figure out if you wanna use your tongue or your fingers to get me there.” “we’ve already done too much, this will not be happening again.” rafe argues, even as his eyes skim over your still exposed bra, memorizing every detail and swirl of the lace.

“oh, but it will.” you smirk. “otherwise i will tell your daughter everything. maybe your wife too. go running to her and tell her how big mean rafe forced himself onto me.” “you wouldn’t.” rafe looks at you with a different view now, no longer seeing you as the innocent best friend of his daughter who would come over for playdates.

“i would.” you open your legs, spreading them wide. “now get to work.”

read part two here

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh @mysticallystilinski @https-luvvia @aerangi @folklorsweet

[osachiyo]

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — fem!reader, aphrodisiac, masturbation, unprotected sex, begging, insatiable reader, honorifics (sir), dom! dottore • this is for @dazaisslave !! so sorry for getting to it this late, tysm for being patient with me ichika :3 apologies if he's ooc, this is my first time writing for him :) happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni

DOTTORE never expected to see such an.. interesting spectacle when he walked into his lab. There you were, perched on top of his table — some of the vials of who-knows-what knocked over to the ground. Small whines and moans of his name escaped your glossy lips, while two of your fingers plunged in and out of your drooling cunt in a rapid pace, the small digits seemingly not enough to fulfill your craving.

"and what do we have here..?" the masked man smirked, clearly amused by the alluring view you had to offer. your head snapped up in dottore's direction, clearly shocked to see your lover standing in the doorway.

"don't tell me you're shocked to see me, pet — what do you think you're doing in my lab, hm?" his lips parted to reveal a sinister grin, teeth glinting from the dim lighting of the room. "dottore, i —" you struggled to find the right words. what the hell were you supposed to say? that you sneaked in his lab to see what he was working on, then accidentally knocked over a vial with bright pink substance in it and suddenly started feeling dizzy and hot? like hell he'd buy that.

as if the man could read your mind, he stepped closer to the broken glass on the floor — a sigh leaving his thin lips, "what you knocked over, my darling, was a vial of aphrodisiac," he grumbled with slight annoyance, now looking up at you through his mask. "a very strong kind, to be clear."

oh.

well that explained why you were feeling so.. hot all of a sudden — but that didn't make it much better. the aphrodisiac was strong indeed, so strong that even the doctor himself could feel himself succumb to it, pale face flushing as his breaths get heavier, it didn't help that you looked to damn ravishing too — staring up at him through those pretty tear-soaked lashes, a pout settled on your lips — it made him want to bend you over his table and —

"f-fuck, hold still, pet —" dottore groaned, hips slamming against your plush ass from behind, gloved fingers digging deep into your hips to keep you in place. but how could he blame you? you were practically buzzing with arousal — hearts floating in your eyes as you drooled all over his desk.

"feels — mmh-! s'good," you slurred, a dumb smile finding it's way to your swollen lips when dottore sped up his pace, landing cruel slaps on your ass while you both get closer to your highs.

fuck, the damn aphrodisiac was taking its affect on him too — making his cock extra leaky and sensitive than usual, causing him to go even harder, and groan even louder into your ear. both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, dottore's hands finding your tits to pull and tweak at your nipples, before landing a mean slap on them, making you cry out in pained pleasure.

"f-faster — sir, please —!" dottore let out a guttural groan at the honorific, speeding his hips up at your request — broken moans leaving the both of you as he did.

"cum f'me, girl," dottore growled against your skin, palm of his gloved hand pushing your back further down into a mean arch — your ass bouncing with each thrust. as if right on cue, you squirted all over his cock, and the harbinger followed not long after — muttering curses in the snezhnayian language whilst spilling his load inside of you.

you two stayed like that, dottore's face buried in your neck — breathing in your sweet smell, pants leaving each other.

"..ain.."

dottore quirked an eyebrow, moving his face away — "come again?"

you looked back at him, eyes glazed over with lust and lashes clumping with dried tears, voice breathless as you let out a pitiful whimper — "again, fuck me again! — fill me up."

[webbluvrsugar]

movie nights with Ethan Landry.

cw: smut with fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n.

He’s arrived at your apartment earlier than expected, but you don’t mind it, if anything, it only means that you’ll get to stay with each other for a bit longer, so you both prepare the popcorn, set up a horror movie he likes and…. you don’t end up watching it. Because really, how was Ethan supposed to focus on the movie when you’re sitting besides him with nothing but a tiny top? He’s your boyfriend, he’s seen you countless times like this, he also can’t control himself when he sees you like this. So now he’s all over you, your hands on his shoulders as he kisses you deeply, you both have your eyes closed as his tongue invades your mouth, the sweet kiss you were sharing before turns sloppier, hotter than ever.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers, pulling away from your lips for a soft second before he kisses you again.

His hand goes to your throat, gripping you softly and pushing you against the red fabric underneath you, cutting off your air just enough to make it feel pleasurable, his fingers right where he knows you like them. You moan against his lips, he pants against yours, his legs take place in between your thighs before his hand finally leaves your throat.

Neither of you need words to know what you want, he’s already quick to pulling you close by your thighs with both hands, tugging away at your panties and discarding them before his lips cover his again. One of his fingers slides over your slit, up and down as he toys at you clit, you whimper, he chuckles and pulls back before inserting a finger into you.

“I’m sorry about the movie, okay?” He whispers, so dangerously close to you.

“It’s — fine..” you moan as he presses another finger in, slowly curling them to hit that spongy spot after you, gummy walls clenching around him as he does so.

“Just…” He pauses, his fingers quicken its pace.

“Have a better view right here.”

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Practice

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader x Paul Aron

A/N: I really wasn't going to post anything on Tumblr for a while and to just use the anger and betrayal I feel inside of me to write as a form of an outlet. I've had this request done for a while but with everything going on I didn't want to post it but I already feel bad to the person that requested it for keeping them waiting for so long and since Oscar won today, I feel like this is an appropriate time.

After posting this, I do not know how long until I post again but know whenever I do decide it is the right time for me (mentally) to come back, I will have lots of stories to post along with writing more.

Again, thank you to everyone who has reached out to me and wishing me well and reblogging that post along with sending requests to other writers asking them to spread the word and to block and report that person, I do see them and I do really appreciate all the support.

Farewell, for now. I will see you all again soon.

Requested (idk where the actual ask went but I did write it in my notes app where I do rough drafts): Please could you do a story Oscar piastri x y/n x paul aron smut I'm dying for the two of them 🔥 @deepestrunawaykitty

SMUT

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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F1 Masterlist

It was a hot July Saturday night, and I felt my heart race as I entered the club with my boyfriend, Oscar. The bass pumped through my body, setting the tone for a night of pure, unadulterated pleasure. I wore a tight, black dress that hugged my body in all the right places. my long hair fell loosely and my eyes sparkled with anticipation. Oscar looked dashing as always, his brown hair tussled, and that seductive smirk playing on his lips. He was a Formula 1 driver, and his bad-boy charm had me hooked from the start.

As we made our way through the crowd, hands brushing against each other, the familiar lyrics of Drake's "Practice" filled the room. This was our song, the one that played on repeat during our steamy make-out sessions. Oscar leaned in close, his hot breath tickling my ear as he whispered, "You know what this song does to me, babe. It makes me want to take you right here on the dance floor and show everyone what you're mine."

I felt my core clench at his words, my nipples hardening against the soft fabric of my dress. I loved it when Oscar talked dirty, and tonight, I wanted to give myself completely to him. "Then take me," I purred, pressing my body against his, feeling the hard length of his cock straining against his pants. "I'm yours to do with as you please."

Oscar's hand slid down my back, pulling my body tight against his. With his other hand, he reached under my dress, his fingers teasing the soaked fabric of my panties. "You're so wet already, baby. Who knows, maybe I'll let one of my friends have a taste of this tight pussy tonight." I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as his fingers found my clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles. "Oh, yes, Oscar," I gasped. "I'm yours to share. Do whatever you want with me."

As if on cue, Oscar's friend, Formula 2 driver Paul Aron, joined us on the dance floor. He was tall and muscular, with a mischievous smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Well, well, well," he said, his eyes roaming over my body. "Looks like someone's ready to play."

"She certainly is," Oscar replied, his hand still working its magic between my thighs. "Why don't you say hello, Paul?"

Paul didn't need to be asked twice. He pulled me against him, his lips crashing down on mine in a passionate kiss. I melted into the kiss, my hands exploring Paul's body as his tongue dueled with mine. I could feel both of their erections pressing into me, and it drove me wild.

Breaking the kiss, Oscar guided me to turn around, pressing my body against the hard planes of Paul's chest. "Such a beautiful view," Oscar murmured, nuzzling my neck. "Seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock while Paul fucks that tight pussy from behind." I moaned, my eyes rolling back as Paul's hands slid up my thighs, lifting my dress. "Mmm, yes, Oscar," I breathed. "I want you both. Please, fuck me. Make me yours."

Without warning, Oscar spun me around and pressed my against the nearby wall, his mouth claiming mine in a voracious kiss. my senses spun out of control as I felt Paul's hands on my waist, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed the length of his hard cock against my aching pussy. "You ready for me, baby?" he growled, grinding his hips against her.

"Please," I begged, my head falling back as Oscar kissed and nibbled on my neck. "Fuck me, Paul. Give it to me hard."

With one swift thrust, Paul impaled me on his thick shaft, burying himself balls-deep inside me. I cried out, my nails digging into Oscar's shoulders as I felt myself stretched around his cock. Paul began to move, his hips snapping as he pounded into me, each thrust hitting me deep and hard.

Oscar's hands roamed over my body, cupping my breasts and pinching my nipples. He kissed and sucked on my neck, marking me as his. "You like that, baby? You like being fucked by my friend while I watch?"

"Yes," I moaned, my head tossing back and forth as pleasure washed over me. "Oh, God, yes. It feels so good, Oscar. Don't stop."

Paul's hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as he thrust faster and harder, his grunts filling the air. I felt her orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening in my belly. "I'm gonna cum," I panted, my fingers tangling in Oscar's hair. "Don't stop, please, don't stop."

As if sensing my impending release, Oscar reached between our bodies, his fingers finding my swollen clit. He rubbed me in slow, firm circles, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through me. "That's it, baby, cum for us. Let me taste that sweet pussy."

And cum I did. With a strangled cry, my body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. My juices flowed around Paul's cock, making his thrusts even more delicious. "That's it, take it," Paul grunted, his hips slapping against my ass. "Cum all over my cock, you dirty girl."

As my orgasm began to subside, Paul quickened his pace, chasing his own release. I felt his cock twitch inside her, and with a final, powerful thrust, he filled me with his hot cum. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his body trembling as he emptied himself inside me.

But the night was far from over.

After a brief respite, Oscar led us to a more secluded area of the club. His eyes were dark with desire as he pushed me against a nearby couch, his lips capturing mine in a fierce kiss. Paul stood beside us, his eyes burning with lust as he watched his friend take what he wanted from my willing body.

Oscar broke the kiss, his breath hot on my face as he said, "Get on your knees, baby. I want your mouth."

I obeyed without hesitation, my heart pounding with anticipation. I knew Oscar loved deepthroating, and the thought of taking him all the way down my throat made my pussy drip. I looked up at him with hooded eyes, my lips parted, as I reached for the belt of his pants.

Oscar undid his belt, freeing his hard length. my eyes widened at the sight of his thick, veined cock, the head already glistening with pre-cum. I licked my lips, leaning forward to flick my tongue over the sensitive tip. "Mmm," I moaned, tasting the salty sweetness of him. "I've been waiting all night for this."

I took him into my mouth, sucking slowly, bobbing my head up and down as my hands stroked his length. Oscar's hands tangled in my hair, guiding my pace as he moaned above me. "That's it, baby, just like that. Take it all."

my lips slid down his shaft, my tongue swirling as I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper with each stroke. I could feel his cock hit the back of my throat, and I relaxed, allowing him to slide down my throat. Oscar groaned, his hips bucking as he held me still, his cock buried deep. "Fuck, yes, that's it, take it all," he panted.

Pulling back, I sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks as I swirled my tongue. Oscar's hands tightened in my hair, guiding me in a fast, hard rhythm as he used my mouth for his pleasure. "You love that cock, don't you, baby?" he growled. "You're such a dirty little cock slut."

"Mmm-hmm," I hummed around his shaft, my eyes flashing with desire. "I love it, Oscar. I love sucking your big cock."

Paul stood beside them, stroking his hardening cock as he watched the erotic display. "Damn, that's fucking hot," he muttered. "Seeing her mouth wrapped around your cock is making me hard again, Oscar."

A wicked smile curved Oscar's lips as he pulled me off his cock, a strand of saliva connecting our mouths. "I think it's time for that double penetration I've been craving, don't you?"

my pussy clenched at his words, the thought of being filled by both men at once sending a thrill through my body. I nodded eagerly, my eyes shining with anticipation. "Please, yes. Fuck me, both of you. I want it so bad."

Oscar positioned me on my hands and knees on the couch, my ass raised in the air, my pussy exposed and glistening with my juices. "Ride that cock, Paul," he instructed, his eyes sparkling with lust. "I'm gonna stretch her throat while you pound that tight pussy."

Paul lined himself up, sliding into my wet heat with ease. I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as I felt myself stretched around his thickness once again. Oscar guided my head down onto his cock, holding me still as he thrust his hips, fucking my mouth hard and fast.

The sensation of being filled at both ends pushed me closer to the edge. I felt Paul's hands grip my hips, setting a brutal pace as he slammed into me. Oscar's cock pumped in and out of my mouth, his balls slapping against my chin. "That's it," Oscar grunted. "Take it, you dirty slut. Take both our cocks."

The sounds of their grunts and my muffled moans filled the room. “So dirty for us, such a slut” Oscar grunted. His words sent me over the edge. I cried out around Oscar's cock as my orgasm ripped through me, my body shaking with the force of it. Paul roared his release, his cum shooting deep inside me as he rode out his orgasm.

With a final, hard thrust, Oscar held my head down on his shaft, his hips bucking as he filled my mouth with his hot load. I swallowed, milking him with my mouth as he groaned my name.

Collapsing onto the couch, all three of us panted, a tangle of sweaty, satisfied bodies. I smiled, my body buzzing with satisfaction. This was definitely a night I would never forget.

—————

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi i @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess s @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[thebisexualdogdad]

Stripper Evan Buckley is hired by Y/N's friends as a surprise for his birthday party and he's blushing when the "firefighter" strips off his uniform and straddles him

Evan Buckley x Male!reader

Music is playing throughout the house, you and your friends having a good time at the party they threw for your birthday when there's a knock at the door.

“Ready for your present Y/N?” One of your friends says with a grin.

“Present? Throwing me this party wasn't enough?” You laugh.

“Bring him in,” he says to another friend who goes to the door.

He opens it up and there is a firefighter standing on the other side.

“I heard there was a fire?” He smiles, stepping inside, “now where's the birthday boy?”

“Right here,” your friend says loudly and pointing to you.

“You got me a stripper?” You say in disbelief, gulping as he approaches and you get a better look at his face realizing he might just be the hottest man you've ever seen.

“Y/N right? Just sit down and relax,” the stripper says as your friend grabs a chair and places it behind you, letting him push you down onto it.

“So uh, what's your name?” You ask as the music changes into something way more sensual than what was originally playing.

“Everyone calls me Buck,” he smiles.

“It's very nice to meet you Buck,” you nod, your heart beating fast as he starts dancing, your friends crowded around to watch the show.

He places his foot on the chair between your legs, ripping his shirt off and your friends cheer.

“Want to touch them?” He smirks, your eyes locked on his massive tits.

You're stuck in a trance and you can't bring yourself to say anything so he takes your hand, placing it on his chest before guiding it down to his abs as he rolls his body, practically grinding his crotch in your face.

He dances some more, moving around your chair and running his hands all over your body.

The cheering gets louder when a new song begins to play and his pants are torn off to reveal his giant bulge barely being contained by a red thong.

Buck then straddles your lap, throwing his head back and simulating like he's riding you making you blush hard.

His tits are so close to your lips you want so badly to suck on them which Buck can tell so he brings them even closer just to tease you.

He grins proudly when he feels your erection growing in your pants and sure he often has to pretend to be attracted to his clients so they give him a better tip in the end but he had to admit, he was genuinely attracted to you which made this so much more enjoyable for him.

Buck notices someone holding a piece of cake so he motions for them to bring it to him and when they do he swipes his finger through the frosting and places it in front of your lips and looks you straight in the eyes when he says, “lick.”

Your tongue darts out, licking at the frosting before taking his finger in your mouth.

He moans as you suck on it and tells you, “good boy.”

With all the frosting gone he takes his finger out of your mouth and once again grabs your hands, placing them on his ass and letting you squeeze his cheeks, your friends throwing bills around you two.

He gets off your lap, turning around in front of you so you get a full view of his back side and bends down to start shaking his ass.

Your friend hands you some money and you stick it in his thong and he turns back to face you as the song is coming to its end.

Buck positions himself so his bulge is right in your face again as he rolls his hips and you stick the rest of the money in his thong.

He finishes his routine and everyone cheers loudly one more time.

After everything is said and done and Buck is packing his things up to leave you go over to him and thank him for coming and giving him the rest of his tip.

“It was my pleasure Y/N,” he smiles at you, “and happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” you blush.

“Here's my card, call me if you ever need my services again and just so you know I do private sessions too,” he winks at you.

This was definitely the best birthday ever.

[ggidolsmuts]

Panda Making - Dreamcatcher Dami

A/N: I apologize for the utterly terrible puns (if you get it), if not, nothing of value was lost, trust me.

"Oh my god, it's so cuteeeee!" You remind yourself that Dami is not the cute one in Dreamcatcher, that she isn't one to fawn over something as mundane as a four-legged creature that eats shoots and leaves, but here she is, squealing at a pitch higher than you've ever heard her sing. "Did you know its name is Fu Bao?"

"Yes it's on the sign."

"And that it's the first panda born in Korea?"

"Yes that's also on the sign."

"Ahh and it's so cute!"

"I can tell, I can tell," you reply, unimpressed. Seeing her good mood, you try earning brownie points with Dami. "But you're cuter."

"No no, it's the cutest!" It is time for the two of you to move on, for the next viewing group to enter the enclosure. As you leave though, Dami curls her arm tightly around your elbow, guiding you back to the viewing line.

"Let's go again!"

The panda is an invasive species, coming up in conversations even after you arrive back home with Dami.

"Can we make some bamboo-related dish?" "Let's get some fruit the pandas eat?" You are mentally prepared to put your foot down when Dami brings up pandas again.

Except it came at the most unexpected time.

"Oppa?" You're shaken awake by your girlfriend.

"Hmm?"

"I want to make a baby panda." Half-asleep you don't process her words properly.

"That's great, but we're not the zoo babe," you grumble into the pillow. You are significantly more awake once you feel Dami's hand dip beneath your shorts.

"We can make our own little Fu Bao right here..." Dami nibbles on your earlobe, rolling you on your back and climbing on top of you. Your eyes are widen open as you watch her slowly undo the buttons on her pajama top. "Maybe even call it Da Bao."

"God that's a terrible name," you chuckle as you pull Dami in for a kiss, slipping the silk shirt off her shoulders.

"Really? That's the takeaway here, that Da Bao's a bad name?" An outraged Dami is shushed by you slipping your hands under her pants, squeezing a tight cheek.

"You know what you're asking for right?" Dami's grinding on you slowly, her hips nodding up and down against you.

"Yeah, I know, maybe it's just me seeing cute stuff nowadays, gone a little bit stir crazy." You keep kissing her neck, letting her continue to grind on you, but not going further, not responding to her. "You're really going to make me say it hmm?" You kiss Dami's jawline, hands teasingly playing with the hem of her panties and struggling not to just rip it off her—her heat is palpable.

"I dunno what you're talking about, Da Bao's mom."

"God..." She shivers on top of you. "Fuck fine, I need you to get rid of all the condoms in the place."

"Now? Get off me then." Dami damn near dunks your dome on the bed and plants her derriere on you.

"Not right now!" she hisses, before shimmying and kicking off her pants. "I need you to knock me up." She pulls out your wide-awake cock and pulls her panties to the side, revealing that she truly "needs" you right now, pink flesh glistening even in the dim bedroom.

"Do you mean—" You hold Dami at whining distance, your cock twitching when you feel a drop of slick drip on your tip. "Do you mean a panda needs to be bred in Korea?" She growls as you bring her down on you, sheathing yourself in her.

"Yes god yes!" Dami's leaning against you heavily, reeling at feeling you raw inside her. "Fucking breed me."

"You feel so good, fuck!" Dami clenches around you, and you feel every texture and fold of her walls—it's so much more pleasurable with nothing wrapped around you, nothing stopping you from planting your seed inside her. "Ugh, not going to last long."

"It's fine, cum inside me, just cum inside me!" At your admission of poor stamina Dami rides you hard, her flat midriff moving sensuously. Her husky moans are right in your ear, begging you with "give me a baby panda" and "let me milk you". The whispers get more and more desperate until she sits down on you with a lewd squelch. The sudden increase in wetness gets to you, and you hold her down, making sure you're hilted in her before you explode. Dami sucks harshly on your neck, leaving a dark hickey as she creams all over you, purring contentedly as you fill her.

"Fuck, baby..."

"Are you talking to me or Da Bao?" You're shut up by your girlfriend, grinding down on you vengefully. Dami regrets it though, quivering on top of you.

"Shit, you're leaking, I can feel you leaking!"

"You're the one doing the leaking, all over our bed." You hold her close, feeling her clench around you, like she's still cumming or something. "Are you trying to milk me?"

"No, want to get you hard again."

"Hm, it's going to take more than that to make Da Bao."

"I know, I'll have to track my cycle, figure out when's the best time, and then make sure we're in our best condition, and—"

"You're overcomplicating things dear."

"What? Ah!" You hug Dami close as you put her on her back and get on top of her. "T-That's what I read, I did a lot of reading!" It makes you hard again, that Dami's not just having baby fever, but that she's actively doing research, really meaning to try for one. You enter her easily, and she arcs against you, body pressed flushed with yours.

"Maybe, but I have an easier solution." You start moving, pumping her full of cock while you lean down and whisper in her ear. "I fuck you before and after you finish work every day until it happens."

"D-Day and night?"

"Day and night, I'll fill you up properly, you'll have to hide from the members why you're walking funny, while you're still dripping my load, because you won't be able to get all of it out."

"That sounds good..." Dami gasps, wrapping her legs around your waist to lock you in. "And then?"

"And then when you come back home, I welcome you back and let you choose, do you want to ride me or should I bend you over the dining table before we eat dinner?" Dami's eyes roll as she imagines it happening, a small orgasm flowing through her.

"A-And then?"

"We do it one more time before we sleep, so you can get the best rest, maybe I fuck you in the shower so we can clean up quickly and go to sleep right after."

"What happens when I, when I—" Dami's a bit of a wreck, the thought of her doing her research combined with you actively trying to knock her up sending her into some kind of heat.

"When we succeed," you bring your hand down to her flat belly. "This little tummy won't be so flat any more, and it'll be fucking hot." You press down on her womb from above, and you drive into her powerfully, making sure she feels it all the way inside her.

"Yes yes yes yes yes..." Dami doesn't hear you groan and tell her you're cumming, she experiences it with you, your thick seed filling her up as the warmth flushes over her with her own peak. She clenches on you repeatedly, until you no longer throb inside of her.

As Dami cuddles against you, you remind yourself to throw out the condoms, and maybe you wouldn't mind taking her to see Fu Bao again before the panda is transferred back. After all...

Da Bao is part of the package.

A/N: So this came up randomly when I was listening to news about Fu Bao, one thing led to another and I had panda breeding in my head. I already had an idea for Seoyeon (Fromis App) so Dami was it. And once I got the name "Da Bao" in my head the pun is too terrible to not use it. Just a short little thing, thanks for reading!

[mysicklove]

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

DAY 4: SENSORY DEPRIVATION

With: Kyojuro Rengoku

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Sub! Kyojuro, gn! reader, blindfold/gag/earmuffs, feather usage, ice usage, nonverbal safe word discussed (not used), implied wax play, crying, begging/pleading, reader is a liar.

A/N: Everytime i wrote about his happy trail i thought of ashi. LOL. also this fic is a mess im going to be honest. not my best work, my friends.

Rengoku doesn't understand why he was put in this position. He doesn't understand why he has a blindfold on with his arms tied together behind him, and his legs strapped to the bottom of the chair. He doesn't understand why he has a small black gag in his mouth and pink fluffy earmuffs. 

The thing was, Kyojuro struggles with restraints. He just can't seem to sit still when he receives pleasure. He wants desperately to obey your commands, but your touch always sends him spiralling, and his body always jerks and twitches without meaning to. He has accidentally knocked your hand away so many times when you overstimulate him, or forced your hand back onto his cock when you edge him. It was just a force of habit, and he always apologizes profusely when he does so. Its not like he means to disobey you.

So, tying him up was the next best option. Plus, depriving him of his senses was just because you were feeling cruel, and you wanted to see how strongly he was bound to react with your touch. 

So here he was, completely at your mercy, shivering slightly from what you could guess fear or guilt. He has never done anything to make him deserve a “punishment”, but you were mean. He just looked so pretty when his face was contorted in fear, you couldnt help yourself.

Rengokus blindfold was already dampening with tears as he continues to tremble under your view. His whole world is dark, and everything is silent. The lack of his senses was a strange feeling, and it overwhelmed him.  "I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry. Im sorry," He pleads into the gag, the words coming out so muffled you can barely make out the apologies. 

You grab his chin, and press a kiss to his temple, his cheek, and his neck. Immediately he seems to calm down, and you take this time to remove just one of his earmuffs. “Did nothing wrong, Kyo. There is no need to cry.”

He jumps at the sudden sound, and turns to where your voice was coming from. He sniffles, but nods, leaning his head forward to hopefully coax out more affection from you. You smile at him and move to rest your palm on his cheek. He nuzzles it immediately, thankful for any touch. The darkness and the silence made him feel alone, and he was grateful to have some sort of reassurance. 

Your hands graze at his thighs, and he flinches at the feeling, breathing into the muzzle. “Not going anywhere, relax pretty. I'm here,” You coo, using your other hand to run through his hair. He seems to finally begin to melt, his arms no longer struggling against the restraints, and his body refrained from shivering. “Gonna make you feel good, yeah?”

He doesn't even try to speak, the gag wouldnt allow him to anyways. But he nods his head obediently, trying not to move too much from excitement. You kiss his cheek again, hardly containing yourself from how cute he is. Then, you reach back and place a small bell into his hands. He slightly cocks his head to the side, no doubt furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “If you want to stop, ring that. Can you do that for me?”

He nods determinedly, and then rings it to test it out. Immediately, like a puppy, he turns to you, expectantly awaiting his reward for listening. You indulge him, giggling slightly and kissing the space right below his ears, one of his erogenous zones. He groans into the gag, accidentally pulling at the restraints once again. “Good boy!” You praise, and it sends his head spinning. “Now, ring that whenever you feel uncomfortable and I will stop, alright?” He nods his head. “Good. I'm not going to hurt you tonight Kyo, so you can relax.”

You fingers continue to drag along the area inches from his now hard dick, eyeing it contently. It sticks up proud, and seems to be begging to be touched. You smile and turn back to him, watching the way his chest raises from his breath in steady motions. “I'm going to put your earmuffs back on, so it's going to be a little quiet. It'll just make all the touches more pleasurable, I promise.”

He nods his head, and lets out a gargled, “love you,” through the gag, to which you smile, and murmur your own words of endearment. Then, you cover his ear with the earmuffs, and sigh.

Like a predator stalking their prey, you circle the chair for a second, overwhelmed at the possibilities of what to do to him first. Your fingers drag over his neck and then trace down his arm. He shivers with every movement, feeling goosebumps rise with every graze of your finger. Its overwhelmingly sensitive, and he swears he can almost feel your breath on his skin. His sense of touch was heightened with the lack of the others.

Your mouth latches onto his neck, slightly nibbling at the sensitive skin. He pants into the gag, and slightly bares his neck to give you more room. You pull away for a moment, and blow on his neck, sending his whole body into a fit of shivers. You cant help but giggle at the action, and place your hand on his thigh in mock comfort.

Your head was growing foggy from the meer power you felt over him. He was completely at your mercy, and other than viciously fight at the restrains, he could do nothing. Of course you loved him, and would never dare to do something he didn't like, but you couldn't help but tease him just a little. You may have lied about the “only” pleasure aspect of it.

You sit yourself on his lap, startling him. Baring no mind to his reaction, you lean up and kiss his chin in reassurance, before turning to your right and grabbing the object you have been dying to use. 

A dainty white feather. Something so soft and fragile, that is going to send your lover into a spiral. The thought made your mouth water, and Kyojuro, almost sensing your thoughts, visibly gulps.

You first run your own fingers over his chest, grazing over his nipples. He remains motionless, but you can see him tense. His chest was a very sensitive part of his body, and he was afraid of what was to come next. Rightfully so.

You pull away, and glance downward toward his abdomen. With a wicked grin, you take a hold onto the feather and graze his lower stomach, just where his happy trail begins. Its a light touch, and you barely even skim the surface of his skin, but the reaction is immediate. Another full body shiver, seemingly from the ticklish feeling this time. 

You hum, pleased with the reaction, and continue your antics upward. His pants grow louder into the gag with the passing seconds. Finally, the feather drags along his chest. The spot you have been most curious to see.

The feather glides over his nipple and he lets out a garbled whine. The buds harden in an instant and he nervously shakes his head. You ignore it and continue your movements, circling his chest.

Rengoku twitches under your hold and pulls against the restraints. He is so unbelievably sensitive there, and with the addition to the blind fold and earmuffs, he swears the feather is borderline overstimulating him. He can feel every bristle of it, and the cool air it pushes towards him when you slightly flap it. It sends him into a frenzy. It's too much, but too little. He wants more of the stimulation, but he also wants to pull away. He wants you to be rougher with him, but the idea of that makes him nervous. 

He doesn't know what he wants, and just like usual, he begins to tug at the restrains, body uncontrollably twitching. His chest tries to cave inward from the ticklish feeling, but he doesn't go far considering the restraints. He just continues to shake his head back and forth, high pitched yelps and complaints barely making it through the gag. 

“Aw baby, are you sensitive there?” You tease mostly to yourself, knowing he can't hear you all things considering. His squirms make you giggle, and you take vague notice to the bright hair that shakes from side to side from his sporadic movements. 

It tickles so much. It tickles and it feels good, and it hurts, and it is too soft, and he is losing his mind. The feeling of being bound, forced to take everything you give him only seems to make the feather more tortuous. 

He feels it begin to move downward, and Kyojuro heaves, trying to catch his breath after holding it for so long. His mouth clentches around the gag, and he tries to calm down his body. 

But of course, he can feel the feather move downward and oh. Oh no. He couldn't handle it down there. It was too sensitive.

He whips his head back and forth and whines into the gag. It comes out as a broken plea, and he can't hear your response, but he hopes you may take his noises to heart. He didn't get his hopes up.

The feather brushes around the tip, and Kyojuro yelps, jerking so much that the chair beneath him lifts up just slightly. You send a warning slap to his thigh, and he cries out, the tears beginning to flow again. It hurt more now that he couldnt see it. He apologizes through the gag, but it doesn't do much, other than make him drool all over himself.

You trace it up and down his cock, and he begins to tremble again. His dick is twitching with every stroke, and honestly it enamored you how reactive it was being. Cute.

One of your hands move back up his chest, thumbing at the nub, while the other continues its slow, light movements of the feather. Bringing it from the head, all the way down to his balls, giggling when your hear his cries.

“Not pweasure! Not pweasure!” He sobs, his thighs trembling. It tickled so much he couldn't stand it and with the addition of your fingers pinching his nipples, he was crumbling. You lied to him. He was supposed to feel good. Not to be teased to till he cant breathe anymore. You are so cruel.

Of course he couldnt say anything, nor use pleading eyes to beg for you to stop. But his body jerking back and forth, trying desperately to get anyway from your hands and the horrible, horrible feather definitely convey his emotions.

You grab one more item to end up the scene, finally setting down the feather. To continue on with little warning on what you had stored for him was cruel, even for you. But, of course you will have fun watching his reaction to this.

You place the small item in the palm of your hand, and gently bring it over to his cock. Then with a sadistic grin, you drag it down the shaft.

The first thing Kyojuro feels after the removal of the feather was cold. So unbearably cold, and right on his dick. 

Ice. It had to be. 

The chair comes lifting off the ground again from his quick movements to get away. He's screaming into the gag, and shaking his head profusely, begging for you to take it away. It was so cold, and he was so sensitive. His hands pull at the restraints and his body tries, and fails to crumble inward himself.

The blindfold slips off one of his eyes and he finally gets a view of you. His eyes are glassy, and flooded with tears, and his eyebrows are adorably furrowed in a plea. He makes a noise when you pull the ice away slightly, and you look up at him. 

“Aw Kyo, you want to see that badly?” You coo, and he can barely read your lips from the tears. He shakes his head and sobs, head hanging low. You bring the ice cube to his chest and he whines, eyes screwing shut automatically as his nipples harden. The cool water stains his chest, and he is shivering under it. 

His hips and back drive into the chair, to try to create some distance from the horrible coldness. It doesn't work, and his one eye watches the way the ice cube coats the dark patch of hair on his lower abdomen, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. It was making his way back to his groin, and all Kyojuro can do is cry, and hope you be easy on him. He can't stand the cold. He was made for heat.

One hand grabs onto his cock, steading the trembling thing, and the other holds onto the cube. “Well, if you want to watch so badly, might as well give you a show,” You whisper, and Kyojuro cant read your lips this time. So, he stares at you with mild confusion and fear as to what you are going to do next.

With one last malicious glance, you place the ice cube on top of the tip, and swirl it around his hole. He screams again, back arching, and staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. You don't let up even when his legs try again and again to shut, but ultimately fail. 

He can feel the cool liquid drip into his slit, and he feels as if he cannot breathe. It was one of the strongest sensations he has ever felt before, and his fingers dig into his palm to help steady himself. It was so cold. Unbelievably cold, and the water was dripping inside him, in a place where it should not be. 

Kyojuro didnt know what to do other than take it. The silence of it all was driving him even more mad, and he wonders if having him see this was worst than being blindfolded.

Your circular motions dont let up, and eventually it's the ice that begins to melt, considering how hot the hashira runs. You rub it over his now slightly shrinking dick, and his whole body is shivering. But, his whines and cries have finally gone down, instead just loud pants to try and catch his breath. He must be growing used to it.

This was a good stopping point. You run the remainder of the cube over the throbbing tip again, and he whimpers slightly, but it doesn't compare to what the noises he made before. You kiss his thighs, and drop the sliver of ice back into the metal bin, whipping your hands on your shirt.

He did well. It was impressive really. How good he did. But, you didnt expect anything else from your lover. 

You smile to yourself, and then reach up to remove the earmuffs and blindfold. But strangely enough, Kyojuros one free eye wasn't looking at you. His whole neck was staring to the right while his chests rise and fall with heavy breaths, as if he was entranced by something. Drool coats his mouth, but he doesn't seem to notice, so enthralled at what he is staring at.

You follow his gaze, eyes widening when you see it.

You watch as the candle you lit earlier to set the mood, drips with wax. It falls onto the candle stand, and Kyojuro stares with hearts in his eyes as if mesmerized by the wax. 

You let out a shaky breath, turning to him on last time, reading his mind. He glances at you and nods every so slightly, with a small huffs. You grin at him, readjusting his blindfold and grabbing the candle. You watch Rengokus adams' apple bob as he gulps in both fear and excitement. 

He was shivering so much, it was like he was in dire need to warm up. And you had just the solution for him, and instantaneous way to heat up his skin again.. A drop of wax drips onto Kyojuros thigh, and the man does his best to not scream at the burning sensation. 

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[xazse]

Notes: Sorry to everyone who was looking forward to Genshin stuff, I just had to write for Miguel he’s been plaguing my mind.

Pairings: Miguel X fem!reader

Tags: Thigh-fucking, Nipple-sucking, kinda-meanReader, SubMiguel, Neglected Miguel. If I forgot anything else please lmk

Sweet soft pecks on Miguel’s cheeks, even your feather light touches are driving him insane, you’ve purposely been avoiding him, depriving him: taking on missions nonstop so you can have him extra needy the next time he ducks into your apartment.

Just like these past few weeks constantly having him run in circles. ‘Oh you can see me next week,’ getting his hopes up then sending him that dreading message of ‘Oh I’m so sorry Miguel, we’ll have to cancel :(.’

You aren’t sorry one bit, not even a sorry bone in your soft body.

So when he does manage to get a slot in your oh so busy schedule, he’s planning to take full advantage of getting his fill of you for the weeks to come, where you’ll play him like a fiddle all over again.

“M’ sorry Miguel” you pout ever so fake, moving your lips to connect with the corner of his mouth over and over again. He can’t help when his facade of being angry starts to break down and he fully lets you in. Lacing his hands with yours and letting you guide him to the couch.

Softly sitting him down and propping down on his lap and swinging your legs up on the couch, you continue with your sweet ministrations, rubbing a hand up and down his chest: slow and sultry clearly trying to savor the moment for what it was.

His half lidded eyes are following your hands, intently following every move you make. When you grind your ass down on him particularly hard, he bucks his hips up groaning and letting his hard cock be known, just a bit of touching always has Miguel like this, always cooped up in his office tends to let him have no time for himself.

Your sly hands slide right under his white T-shirt, palms guiding all the way up to his nipples, you pinch one of them In-between your thumb and pointer finger causing another groan to slip past his lips and his hand to grip your waist with more force than he had intended.

“I’ve been neglecting you for a while now huh? No wonder you’re so sensitive” you emphasize while flicking both his nipples, he lets out a loud moan, oh if the others could hear how their leader sounded like a bitch in heat.

“I’ll take good care of you m’kay?“ he slowly nods covering his mouth, whilst you swirl his nipple within your fingers. “Here, hold your shirt” you move the bottom of his shirt towards his mouth and he obediently obeys, now you have a full view of his chest, darkened nipples on full display for your teasing.

You shift to pull his cock from its tight confines, spreading your legs and letting the sensitive thing rest inbetween your thighs, you go to stroke him, using his precum as lube, his breath hitches when your fingers dance around his tip.

“I’ll let you use my thighs for today baby, is that okay?” You stare at him with that evil convincing smile, he’s in no place to refuse your generous offer so he nods his head in defeat.

He watches as you slide your shorts up your thighs, pressing so nicely against the outline of your cunt, his cock twitches against you when you flex and tighten yourself around him.

You do something that entirely surprises him when you lean towards his chest and place your mouth on one of his nipples, he jumps but that earns him a good squeeze from your thighs, he finds himself not completely hating the feeling of your tongue flicking his nipple repeatedly.

He’s panting, and shifting his hips upward in a routine now: his shirt drenched in his own drool. Clearly enjoying all the pleasure you’re giving him. Not knowing what to do with his hands he moves one to grip your hair pushing you further against his nipple- a ploy to get you to give him even more and of course you do.

His cock is a beet red by now, covered in his cum, trying so hard to chase that orgasm that’s been building within him for weeks now, his strong thighs are practically bouncing you up and down rubbing against your clit every-time he comes down, now isn’t the time to be worried about your pleasure, you only want to focus on him but the growing pleasure is getting hard to disregard by the minute.

You hear a loud groan croak in the air and Miguel gripping your hair rather hard.

Thick spurts of his cum landing on you in globs, while he’s panting loudly in your ear trying to calm himself from his high.

Ignoring the wetness inbetween your cunt, you let go of his nipple with a lewd pop, and he buries his head into your neck. You oblige and rub his back while softly cooing at him that he did so good.

[romanreignseater]

Feet Kicker.

Roman Reigns x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Oral really… (Female receiving of course).

“Who knew such a big and grown ass man would moan and kick his feet in the air while eating his wife out?!”

A/N: I saw a quote on TikTok about this and I just pictured Roman 😭.

GIF: @romanreigns

What a man, what a man, what a man

What a mighty good man

Gotta say it again now

What a man, what a man, what a man

What a mighty good man

He's a mighty mighty good man

What a man, what a man, what a man

What a mighty good man

Yes he is

That’s what many could say about the Tribal Chief, the Head of The Table, Roman Reigns. Yet, here he was… on his hands and knees removing your shoes, kissing your legs and feet. Nearly whimpering like a little baby.

Gulping as he looked up to realize panties were nowhere to be found on your body. Just your glistening cunt shining for him and him only.

“Why so nervous?!” You smiled sweetly down at your man. His eyes quickly dart back down to your feet, avoiding all eye contact at all costs. (And typically he was a boss at this of course).

If the world knew how much of a whimpering little man Roman could be, it’ll probably stop. “Lemme take my dress off while you handle yourself right there.” Roman laid on his knees in silence with his head and hands grasping at his knees.

Your whistle drew his thoughts back up, to only see you completely nude. “I can guess by your silence that you like what you see… per usual of course.” Your shoulders raised in confidence as your tantalizing ass was facing him.

You crawled onto the slowly with your dribbling cunt smushed between your thighs for Roman’s viewing pleasure. You shaked your ass slightly, giving him even more of a show.

You rested your head gently onto the pillow then flipping yourself over and spreading your legs to show the goods.

Your essence coated your inner thighs and you bent your knees to near your white toes by your pussy, knowing how much Roman adored your cunt and perfectly manicured feet. But, sitting there in a picture perfect manner arose something in him to man up and commence his ministrations.

He rose from the ground and onto the bed almost like a lion observing their prey. He then lays on the bed, flat on his stomach and hands pressed against your thighs spreading them even further.

He nearly drooled which made you giggle at his sheer fascination of your pussy. His large thumbs spread at your cunt, observing all of its pink prettiness and wet slick. As he treaded closer, he could feel the warmth of your cunt.

You placed your hands on his which then made him look up at you. “Are you gonna start of what?! She’s been waiting for a little bit.” Pointing down at your desperate bundle of nerves.

He chuckled, blushing slightly and bashful my put his head down. He soon placed heated kisses across both planes of your thighs. His hot breath brushed across your cunt, leaving you to shiver slightly.

Roman’s whole mouth then goes to cover the entirety of your pussy lips, immediately coating them in a base of his saliva. His tongue trailed in between your lips into the sweet middle your cunt.

The teasing of your clit led your hands straight to his luxurious locks. “Mmmmm right there baby.” Roman lifted his head to admire your blissful face. He hummed, averting his eyes back to your convulsing pussy.

His blistering thumb stroked the mess he made so nastily and he dove back into your waters. Looking up from the ceiling you notice his knees were bent and his feet were raised to the sky. Feet crossed and legs swinging back and forth.

Was he actually swinging his feet while eating you out?! His head began swaying back and forth as well. He must have really been good time doing this you thought to yourself.

“Are yo-u having a good time there?!” He raised his head to show you a wet beard and a big grin. “Always baby.”

“Go ahead and continue then.” He happily did and you were soon reaching your peak. He slid his middle finger into your warm and tight vagina fingering you ever so gracefully. His lips spread across your clit, making out with it in such a dirty manner.

He hummed once more and the vibrations of his humming made every part of your pussy tingle from top to bottom. Making your toes curl and his name flowing from your lips endlessly.

“I’m gonna cum Daddy.” It started to become too much, both you and Roman began whimpering at the top of your lungs. Your eyes closed and you curled up to Roman, clutching at his hair. Opening your eyes to then see his eyes peering up, his tongue swiping at every crevice he could get at. His eyes signaled you to cum.

Your back fell to the mattress and you screamed his name as he made you come undone. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” Is all you could say as he continued to coax you through you orgasm. His lips and finger were wept away from your cunt as he admired your it pulsing.

His feet never ceased from swinging with his lips covered in his saliva and your essence. “Was this really fun for you?!”

“Of course it was mama.”

Ohh… couldn’t you tell.

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

THE END

Thanks for reading everyone 💝💝💋!! Kind of short, but I’ll hope you love it. (Jimmy fic coming soon 😝).

MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harmshake @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @angelreigns444

[arkhamknightz]

SUNDAY, MONDAY OR ALWAYS

pair : major john 'bucky' egan x fem!reader

summary: you hate bucky egan– could a song drunkenly sang at a pub change that? based off this ask

warnings: drunk bucky, language ig?, bad writing

notes: masters of the air has completely taken over my life.. also on that note this fic may be awful while im trying to figure out how to write for this series but its okay because theyre pretty men in uniforms ! also i changed the song from blue skies to fit the fic better :) i dont know about timeline so if the song wasnt written before this scene was supposed to take place then ignore that 🙏🏽

The pub was loud, soldiers spread all across the room. In a sea full of people, Bucky could only notice as you stood against the wall with a drink in your hand. He started to walk towards you, as soon as his eyes met yours, you looked away and rolled them– taking another sip of your drink.

"Oh c'mon! I was barely even halfway here and you're already rolling those pretty eyes of yours?" His voice got closer, before he stood against the wall right next to you. "May I help you Major? Or are you just here to bother me again." Annoyance was laced through your words, eyes scanning the room for Buck.

"C'mon sweetheart you know its Bucky!" He smiled at you before you looked up at him. "Well Major, its always a pleasure talking to you." She spat sarcastically before making her way over to the bar, a small pout gracing Bucky's face.

He watched as another soldier sparked a conversation with you, watching as you give him a polite smile. He stared for a moment before feeling a pat on his back, Buck coming into view. "What'd you even do to piss her off this time?"

Bucky scoffed. "Nothing! Why do you always assume I did something?" Buck stayed silent for a moment, staring at him with an eyebrow raised. "Do you really want me to awnser that?" Bucky stayed silent, a small chuckle leaving Cleven.

"Just give it up for the night, we both know she isn't gonna budge." Bucky sighed. "I didn't even get to try before she walked away!" Another laugh left Buck, smiling at his friend as he spoke. "Gotta take the hint- go get another drink, you look like you need it."

He in fact, did not need it. Half an hour later Bucky made his way over to where Buck and a few guys from the 100th were sitting. He was clearly drunk, slightly stumbling before plopping down in the chair, tapping his foot against the floor as music played.

He looked over at Buck, a grin on his face. "You know what this is missing?" Without even turning, Buck replied. "Nothing" "Vocals!... I'm gonna sing" As soon as Bucky tried to stand up, Buck's hand pulled him back.

Bucky pouted for a moment before leaning over. "Jack! Should I sing?" Jack shook his head, a quick 'no' leaving his lips. Bucky leaned back disappointedly, before turning over again to another member of the 100th. "Should I sing?" "No"

He leaned back in his chair again, fixing his hair as he stared at the musicans. "Alright, you're right... you're right." He sat back for a moment, biting his lip and tapping his hand before shooting out of his seat. Dancing over to the middle of the room before turning to Buck.

"It's my song!" Buck shook his head, watching as his friend grabbed the mic. As he was about to start singing, he saw your eyebrows furrowed as you both made eye contact before sitting next to Buck.

"What's he doing up there?" You asked. Buck sighed, "He said he was gonna sing." Your face turned into a grimace, a big smile on Bucky's face before he started singing, making eye contact as he started.

"Oh, won't you tell me when, we will meet again! Sunday, Monday or always" He was loud, a big smile still on his face as he sang. You sat back and watched, a small smile starting to grow on your face as a small laugh made its way out of you.

There was no possible way he knew the song was a favorite of yours, but there was something nice about the sight of him singing up there- even if it wasnt objectively the best thing you've ever heard. Bucky watched as a small smile appeared on your face, growing more estatic as he sang.

"If you're satisfied, I'll be at your side! Sunday, Monday or always— No need to tell me now, What makes the world go 'round!" Bucky made his way closer to your direction, clearly making eye contact as he continued. "When at the sight of you, my heart begins to pound and pound! and what am I to do?"

A small blush started to appear on your face, trying to bite back a smile as you shook your head, a laugh leaving your chest as he danced around, shaking your head 'no' as he motioned for you to come up. He finished the verse, grabbing your hand and pulling you up onto the dancefloor, mic held up to his mouth. "Can't I be with you, Sunday, Monday or always."

You laughed as he put the mic back on the stand, spinning you around. He smiled down at you as he pulled you close, speaking softly, but loud enough for you to hear. "If I knew I could get you to stop glaring at me everytime I talked to you by serenading you in a bar I would've done this ages ago."

You shook your head, holding back a smile, dancing with him as the music continued. "Don't get cocky with me, this is a... a one time thing-" You couldn't ignore how his face fell for a moment, before being replaced by a smile. "Why do you hate me so much anyways?"

She shook her head. "I don't exactly hate you- I just didn't like your approach the first few times we tried talking." Bucky smiled softly, "And now? What's the verdict sweetheart?" You paused, feet no longer moving to the music. "Hmm... ask me in a few more days and i'll give you an awnser."

She walked away, Bucky sighing in disappointment. He walked back over to Buck before hearing you call him over. "I'm going back to the bar to get a soda, you coming or not?" Bucky looked wide eyed at Buck before smiling and jogging over to you.

Maybe he would finally get his shot.

[amirasainz]

Girl, your account is fucking amazing. Hear me out, Max x Reader, but make it 'Pride and Prejudice' style. Max as Mr Darcy is 🥵🥵🥵

Btw, will you do like a October/December challenge? Like Kinktober, smth like that? Would be amazing if you could girl💅

Here is the story. I hope you like it. For your question, I can definitely write some supernatural stories as well, but I will not be participating in the October challenge.

Kika is Readers' older sister in this story!!!

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl💋

Pride and Prejudice

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

YN Bennet had learned to appreciate this truth during her last visit to Pemberley, the seat of Mr. Max Verstappen. Since that visit, she had experienced a transformation in her opinions regarding him, which she had once deemed irreparable. His manners, though initially haughty, revealed depths of kindness and integrity that had slowly unfolded before her.

This particular day, she found herself in a carriage with her older sister, Kika, as they approached Pemberley once again. The sun shone brightly, and the countryside displayed its autumnal colours, creating a picturesque setting for their visit.

“YN, do you suppose we will see Mr. Verstappen again?” Kika inquired, her tone imbued with the sweetness of hope.

“I am not certain,” replied YN, glancing out of the carriage window. “It is likely he is engaged in his affairs. He is not one to be easily roused from his duties, I fear.”

“Yet, his behaviour at the last ball was so amiable. It is only just that he should wish to know how you fare,” Kika insisted, her eyes sparkling with optimism.

“Ah, Kika, you cannot expect me to indulge in such fancies,” YN replied with a light laugh. “Besides, it is hardly probable that he would feel any obligation to engage in further conversation with one such as myself.”

Kika was about to reply when the carriage halted at the grand entrance of Pemberley. They were greeted by the butler, who escorted them into the drawing room. The house was magnificent, with its vast windows allowing the sunlight to pour into the elegantly decorated room.

“Miss Gomes, Miss Gomes!” exclaimed Viktoria Verstappen, Mr. Verstappen's younger sister, rushing forward with a delighted expression. “How wonderful it is to see you again! I was afraid you would not come.”

“We are so pleased to be here, Miss Verstappen” said Kika, stepping forward to embrace her. “Your home is as splendid as ever!”

“I am glad you think so,” Viktoria replied, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “I often feel that Pemberley is a place more suited for others’ enjoyment than my own. I wish to see it through the eyes of my guests.”

YN smiled. “You are too modest, Miss Verstappen. It is your hospitality that brings this place to life.”

“Indeed, if only Mr. Verstappen were as amiable,” YN said teasingly, her eyes sparkling.

“Mr. Verstappen has improved remarkably,” Viktoria replied, a note of defensiveness in her tone. “He is just as kind as he is proud. He has taken much to heart since your last visit.”

At that moment, the door opened, and Mr. Verstappen entered the room. His presence was commanding, yet YN felt an unexpected rush of warmth towards him.

“Miss Gomes,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “I am pleased to see you again.”

“Mr. Verstappen,” she replied, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. “Thank you for your kind welcome.”

Max glanced at Kika and Viktoria, who exchanged glances that spoke of mutual encouragement. “I hope you will not find Pemberley lacking in your expectations,” he said, stepping closer. “Viktoria has been quite eager to show you around the estate.”

“I am sure it will surpass all expectations,” YN said, attempting to remain composed.

“Come, let us take a stroll in the gardens,” Viktoria suggested, her enthusiasm infectious. “The flowers are in full bloom, and you will surely find them delightful.”

As they wandered outside, YN could feel Max’s presence beside her, and she dared to cast a sidelong glance at him. He looked thoughtful, as though he were carefully considering his words.

“Miss Gomes ” he began, hesitantly, “I hope you are well. I have often recalled our conversations, particularly the discussions of character and judgment.”

“Indeed,” YN replied, her heart racing. “I have also reflected upon those discussions. They were enlightening, though at the time, I was less than gracious in my opinions.”

Max’s brow furrowed slightly. “I would not have you blame yourself. I was often blind to the worth of others, a fault I have since endeavoured to correct.”

“Your self-awareness speaks well of you, Mr. Verstappen,” YN remarked, emboldened by their mutual honesty. “It is easy to hold prejudices against one another, but it takes courage to acknowledge them.”

“You are more forgiving than I deserve,” he replied earnestly. “I acted wrongly towards your family, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

“I cannot deny that your actions have caused some distress,” she admitted, “but I have come to understand that we are all susceptible to misjudgments. What matters is how we choose to rectify those misjudgments.”

Viktoria, noticing the exchange, interjected with a bright smile. “Let us speak of lighter matters! There is a new rose garden that I am sure you will admire, YN.”

As they walked, YN felt her heart soften towards Max. His sincerity had altered her perception of him, and as she observed him interact with Viktoria, a different side of him began to reveal itself.

“Mr. Verstappen,” YN said, “I have been meaning to ask you. How did you come to cultivate such a beautiful garden?”

“It was a labour of love,” Max replied, his eyes lighting up at the topic. “I have always believed that nature possesses an undeniable charm, and it brings me peace to create and care for these gardens.”

“Your care is evident,” YN said with genuine appreciation. “It is as though the garden reflects your own character—bold and yet harmonious.”

“Bold, you say?” Max raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “I shall have to consider how that reflects upon my nature.”

Viktoria laughed, breaking the tension. “You see, YN? Even Max can be teased.”

“Do not let it go to your head, sir,” YN added playfully. “I would not wish for you to become too proud of your talents.”

Max chuckled softly. “I assure you, Miss Gomes, I remain acutely aware of my limitations.”

As they continued their stroll, YN felt an ease between them, a newfound understanding. Their previous encounters had been marred by misunderstandings, but now, in the serenity of Pemberley’s gardens, the air felt charged with a different kind of energy.

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Later that evening, as they gathered for dinner, the atmosphere was lively. Mr. Gasly, Kika's affable suitor, joined them, bringing an air of lightheartedness.

“Miss YN, do you recall that debate we had over the merits of love versus fortune?” Pierre asked, laughter in his eyes.

“I do, and I recall you were quite stubborn in your insistence that love would conquer all,” YN replied, smiling. “But I wonder if that sentiment holds true when faced with the pressures of society?”

“Ah, but that is where you are mistaken,” Pierre retorted. “Love can flourish even in the most challenging of circumstances. It is the heart that must lead, not the purse.”

Max observed the exchange with an amused expression. “It seems you are advocating for impracticality, Gasly. One cannot live on love alone. There are far more pressing matters to consider—such as the ability to support oneself.”

“True enough,” Kika interjected, her eyes sparkling. “But surely a balance can be struck. Love can enhance one’s fortune, after all.”

“And what if fortune enhances love?” Max queried, raising an eyebrow. “Is it not a worthy consideration?”

YN seized the opportunity to tease him. “Ah, Mr. Verstappen, you would argue the rationality of the heart! How very unlike a gentleman of your stature.”

“You mistake my intentions, Miss Gomes,” he said, a wry smile forming on his lips. “I seek only to understand how best to ensure my sister’s happiness. It is not always about the heart.”

“Then we shall find a heart to accompany the fortune,” Pierre declared with a jovial laugh. “If that is the case, I shall be in need of a fortune myself!”

As the evening wore on, YN felt her spirits lifted. The repartee flowed easily among them, and she found herself increasingly drawn to Max’s intellect and depth.

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Later, as they stood on the terrace overlooking the grounds, YN turned to Max. “Mr. Verstappen, I must confess. You have surprised me with your amiability this evening.”

Max smiled, his expression sincere. “I am pleased to hear it, Miss Gomes. I hope to continue to surprise you.”

“You have certainly accomplished that,” she replied, her heart fluttering. “And I believe you have more depth than you allow others to see.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, “but I am learning the value of opening oneself to those who show understanding. I admire your wit and wisdom, YN.”

“Then let us continue to cultivate our understanding of one another,” she suggested, her eyes sparkling. “I would enjoy more discussions such as this.”

Max nodded, his gaze steady. “I would like that very much.”

As they exchanged smiles, a subtle bond began to weave itself between

[beenbaanbuun]

j have to say i love the way u write jongho so badddd ALL OF UR POSTS R SO GRRFFGGGRGDGD

anyways while we’re here… what if 🧍pt 2 of 🧍the 🧍pool fic 🧍🧍

he was so cute there 🙁🙁 (AUUGHHHGHGHGHVC) if not tho i would like to request more awkward/loser jongho he is real and has my whole heart 😞😞

thank u for writing in general tho u eat tf up everytime

okay so i am planning a part 2 to the pool fic!!!! but it’s not written yet… BUT!!!!!!!!! here is more awkward jongho for your viewing pleasure :D

(also those photos of him… your honour i love him. he’s so silly 😓)

words - 1.7k

genre - suggestive/nsfw

warnings - loser!jongho, jongho is thinking thoughts about the reader, slight dom!reader/sub!jongho, teasing, reader calls jongho good boy…, public touching off peen but also no one can tell, i think that’s it??

——————————————————————————-

if jongho were an artist then you would be his muse. right in this moment, he can find a million things he would love to replicate in oils. everything from the way your delicately painted fingernails pick at a ball of lint on your skirt to the print of lipgloss left on the half-empty coffee mug deserves to be immortalised on canvas. the fact that it's only the first date should make him feel insane, but all he can think is that perhaps if things progress between the both of you, he'll be able to find a million more things to admire.

"i like your shirt," you smile, the world immediately seeming brighter as you do. he smiles back, although it feels a bit forced. not because he doesn't want to smile back--god, just sitting here and looking at you makes him want to do nothing *but* smile--but because he feels he can do nothing but sit and stare in awe, slack jawed and eyes wide. "i haven't seen you wear that one in class before.”

that sets his face on fire, painting his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. you notice him in lectures? not just that but you notice what he wears? he casts an eye down towards the shirt that's slung loosely over his plain black t-shirt. he'd figured it was far too formal just to wear to class but if you like it... well, maybe dressing up a little more wouldn't be too much of an issue. when he looks back up, he immediately forgets what the shirt looks like, his brain flooded once more with the image of you.

"thank you… i like your shirt too," he repeats your compliment back to you, unsure of what else he should say. of course, theres so many things more that he likes than just the flimsy piece of fabric that adorns your top half, but despite the poems and soliloqies hes writing in his head, its hard to get the words out. he settles for your shirt; its easy to compliment you on that when the words have already been said by you.

"youve seen it before, though," you giggle, and his heart does a little dance in his chest. if only everything could sound as sweet as you. if he could hear you every day for the rest of his life, hes sure thered be nothing to be miserable about ever again. you bite your lower lip to stifle the sound, and he can’t quite work out how he feels about that. he wants to hear you more, but just the sight of your teeth sinking into that pink fleshy pillow is enough to make his heart trip and stumble down several flights of stairs.

holy fuck.

of course, he’s spent hours studying your face before now, sitting in lectures picking out each feature and coming up with a million and one reasons as to why he adores them. your lips are something he’s already committed to memory, the colour, the shape, the way they look wrapped around the neck of the water bottle you bring to every lecture. this is the first time he’s seen them in this light though. up close, being tugged upon by your teeth in such a manner that he can’t help but let his mind wander to some less than savoury places.

he swallows down the saliva that had begun to gather upon his tongue; he’s a gentleman and these thoughts really shouldn’t be in the forefront of his mind right now. he shouldn’t be wondering how you look on top of him, hips swaying back and forth with your lip tucked away to stifle your moans. he tries to pull his eyes away to stifle his overactive imagination, but when they land on your thighs instead, he gives up. he’s a gentleman, he can have a normal conversation while his mind runs wild with the fantasies of what he’d do to you if you were in his bed.

“it’s still a pretty shirt,” his voice is quiet, yet it still somehow manages to crack. it’s humiliating, of course it is, but it’s made even worse when the pretty sound of your laughter starts up again. it still sounds like wind chimes on an autumn day, but this time he can feel the bitter breeze that rings them nipping at his skin. he doesn’t blame you for laughing at him; he would too. in fact, he probably would’ve laughed the second he asked you out on this date if he were in your shoes. why would someone as perfect as you even bother to look at someone like him?

he’s half expecting some cruel jest from you. a little joke you make at his expense just to make yourself feel better about this weird guy you’ve found yourself on a date with. he can take it, he tells himself; it’s what he assumed would happen anyway.

but instead he hears the scrape of a mug being pushed across the table, your mouth silent except for the biting giggles that still flow freely from it. he looks up to your face once more only to see anything but the animosity he was expecting. a kind toothy grin paired with your wide eyes that he fell in love with the very first time he spotted you. you look kind, not at all like the image he’d been painting in his head. it’s a relief and the invisible noose that had been slowly tightening around his neck loosens. he can breathe again, knowing that nothing has changed from when he first set foot in the cafe, despite his body’s attempt to sabotage him.

“here,” your voice is warm, just like it always is. if your laughter is a wind chime on a cool autumn day, then your voice is most certainly the crackling fire that awaits him inside. “you finished your drink but it sounds like you need another. you can have mine, i’ll go and grab anotherfor myself.”

you begin to lift yourself from your chair, and before he even realises what he’s doing a demanding, “no,” comes from jongho. you pause, eyes flickering over to him in question. he shakes his head, more at himself than to you, yet you seem to respond, sitting yourself back down on the seat without little complaint. so obedient, he notices, although the thought is quickly pushed away by the shame he still feels. he takes a sip of your drink to soothe his throat. “i’ll get you one in a moment,” he forces his words out, “i’ve taken yours, i’m not going to make you buy a new one for yourself.”

“i don’t mind,” you say softly as jongho takes another sip, “you can just buy me something on our next date!”

and just like that, jongho’s mind just… stops. he forgets what it means to breathe, the oxygen hitching in his throat as he inhaled through his nose. the liquid his mouth refuses to slide down his neck with ease, catching right at the entrance to his throat and making him cough. he splutters, the rest of the coffee expelling itself from his mouth and flying all over his own lap. “shit,” he murmurs, hands flying into action to clean himself up, only for more coffee to slosh ungracefully over the side of the cup, “fucking hell!”

“jongho!” he can't even blink before you’re there at his side, kneeling on the cold wood floor of the cafe with a napkin in hand. it’s like you’re not even thinking when you begin to dab at his stomach with the cloth, touching his tummy so gently that it sends tingles up and down his spine. his hands fly immediately to the arms of his chair and he clings onto them for dear life.

it’s worse when your hand travels a little further south, grazing the waistband of his jeans. he squeezes his eyes shut as you pat the damp material, not sparing a single second to consider what having your hand so close to his cock might be doing to his sanity. he can feel it stirring, his underwear becoming tighter and tighter with each passing second. there’s nothing he can do about it other than hope you don’t notice—

“oh,” your hand falls limp against his thigh as your gaze locks onto the quite obvious bulge that he’s sporting. of course he is, what else would you expect when you sit there rubbing at his almost-crotch? sure, you were just trying to be helpful but now jongho is hard and it’s not like he could exactly help it.

he watches you intently as your gaze shifts to his face, looking even more beautiful from this close up. you’re mere inches away; if he were to just bend down a little, he could snag your lips in a kiss. he so badly wants to, however, he can’t imagine it would help his case at all.

“you’re hard,” you whisper to him.

he nods.

“i am,” he doesn’t know what else to say. you caught him and that’s that. what, is he supposed to deny it? how can he when your hand lays just ever-so-slightly left of the evidence.

“is it my fault?” the corner of your mouth twitches into a sly smirk, letting jongho know that you already know the answer. nevertheless, he nods, gulping down the lump that’s beginning to form in his throat. “sorry, i didn’t quite hear that.”

“yes,” he hisses out through gritted teeth, “it’s your fault.” you smile at him, beautiful and dangerous.

“so i guess that means i should fix it, right?” you hand shifts the tiniest bit, catching the edge of his erection with your finger tip. he winces, body twitching in reaction to your cruel maneuver. for someone so sweet, it seems you have a bit of a mean streak. jongho can hardly complain; you look hot sitting by his feet as you tease him. damn his shyness, honestly. if it wasn’t for that, he’d love nothing more than to show you who’s in charge. for now, though, he guesses he can let you have your fun.

“please,” he sighs as you apply a little more pressure to his bulge. to anyone else, it might just look like you’re an overly attentive girlfriend dabbing at the spilt coffee; to jongho you look like the picture of filth.

“good boy,” you whisper to him, and despite jongho’s own preference for dominance, he has to admit that those words sound so pretty coming from you. a shiver makes its way up his spine. “meet me in the bathroom in 5.”

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night

requested by @brandycranby | ahhh bb eu 🥺 was just thinking of ari and his thick beard aaaa 💕✨️🩷🍒 for ur blurb night if u have room, soft!daddy!ari + crying?

warnings | ddlg. ari is soft and little dark, pushing baby way past her limits (dub/noncon). oral (f receiving). clit play, real puff puff behavior. overstimualtion. mocking/degredation, praise, dumbification. forced orgasms. squirting.

word count | 531

as punishing as the trash stache is, i’m of the controversial belief that ari is probably the oral king when it comes to facial hair. like there’s just so much of it, and he totally knows how to weaponize it against you and your poor little pussy.

maybe he’s got you spread out on the couch, arms resting over your knees and big hands holding your thighs right in place. you’re not going anywhere, no matter how much you beg and cry😌

he takes his time with you like always, teasing you with his lips and fingers, enjoying your soft moans and hums of initial approval. the first orgasm is of course a fine and grand ordeal, though it’s not the main event.

that would come after, as he’s overworking your poor, puffy folds. after cumming so hard, you’re a drippy, drooly mess, your little clit now fully exposed and engorged with blood. ari knows, he knows it’s so sensitive now. throbbing. hot. achy. needy, as your daddy puts it. which justifies what comes next: the torment of your overstimulated pussy, especially your precious little button that ari loves oh so much.

“c’mon baby, just look at it. so swollen n’ angry lookin’, needs daddy to take care of it.” using a hand to pull back the skin around it, bringing his tongue down to dip into your sore cunt as his nose and mustache scratch against the aching bead of nerves. dragging the wetness of your last orgasm up to roll over it, earning soft sobs from you as you cry into your hands.

“please daddy, t-too much, please don’t—”

he pulls back to look at you with false concern. “honey, daddy’s just taking care of you. know your little baby pussy gets so sensitive after you cum, doesn’t it?” he brings a single finger up to rub over your poor nub as he speaks, worsening your tears to his delight. “see? can feel it throbbing against me. think you need to cum again for me, sweetheart. your body’s begging for it”

you struggle against his hold but it’s no use 😖 he coos at your pathetic attempt, soothing, “shhh baby, don’t cry. daddy’ll be real gentle, promise” but he’s not fooling either of you, you both know he’s loving this. the tears, the resistance, the abuse of your poor cunt

his mouth returns to its spot between your trembling legs, his tongue licking a fat stripe up from your dripping hole to your clit as he circles in on it with skillful precision, eventually easing the bud back into his mouth as he presses two fingers against your opening

“that’s it, baby. i know, i know sweet girl,” his voice comes out so patronizing through his sucking and kissing. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your whole body’s tensing up in preparation for your next climax. “almost there, angel,” he breathes against your burning button, nursing lovingly on it as you tumble over the edge. he groans and moans against you as you cum, the vibrations of his deep voice sending pleasure and pain shooting up through you as you squirt into his awaiting mouth—

yuh huh!! yum!!😌🫶

[the-californicationist]

Hi hi! Love your blog! For the Gift of GIF ask game:

Thank you so much for the GIF ask!! So glad y'all like this ask game. Sorry about the delay. Hope this is something you like!

TW: DaddyDom language, female genitals, sex toys, safe and explicit consent, come play

Shore Leave

Your husband, Alex Keller, finally makes good use of his time off and takes you on your dream vacation. Little do you know that he has darker motives…

The view from your poolside suite was breathtaking in all of the best ways. An endlessly-reflected infinity pool bled right into the deep cerulean Pacific Ocean, making it seem like you could swim forever and ever and never stop. The sky was a mirror of the water, cloudless and pure. Although the sun was out, you were comfortable, and the breeze made you feel like you were always in a limbo between being awake and trapped within a lucid dream. 

Even more enthralling was the way your husband’s body felt beneath yours. He was shirtless, clad only in a light pair of linen pants, and his warm body was curled around you protectively like a covetous hound. You’d never felt so safe. 

However, you were also made to feel other things as well. 

It had all started very innocently. He’d woken you up with poached eggs and freshly squeezed juice, running a warm bath and rubbing you down with lotion and oil before you stepped outside. Then, he’d gifted you with a brand new thong bikini, his eyes hungry as you tried it on. You thought you’d be following him down to the beach, eager to splash in the waves and show off your new fit, but he pulled you onto the pool deck instead. 

He’d kissed you softly, teasingly. It was so different than his usual rabid fervor. You loved the way your husband could barely keep your clothes on when you were alone. You’d missed your dinner reservations more than once. But, you reasoned with yourself, he was always on deployment. Of course he was a little excited. 

Now, though, that excitement had given way to mischief. As you had sat by the pool, kissing and holding hands, innocently watching the ships float by, you’d been lulled into a false sense of security. 

And so, here you lay, your pussy stuffed with an automated vibrator, your poor unused asshole filled with an enormous plug, whimpering and begging for relief. Every time you would get close, writhing your body against his, trying to entice him with your hands and your long, smooth legs, he ignored you. He could control the vibe from his phone, and you never knew which way he was going to go. Sometimes, he would switch it off, watching you desperately humping his leg like a feral dog, swollen and perched on the edge of an orgasm. 

His dark chuckle made your blood run cold,

“Does my good girl need something?”

Alex peered down into your face, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, smug and thoroughly enjoying himself. 

“Oops,” he adjusted your thong again, jiggling the plug as he did so, “Keep these nice and high for me, baby. Need to be able to admire this plump ass of yours. Mmm. What a view.” 

A hard, aching squeeze of his huge hand on your ass cheek made you see white, the sensation of all of his toys inside of you making even the smallest affection feel like wildfire. 

“Please, Daddy, I’ll be a good girl. Please, may I come… please?” You tried to beg. You’d tried before. Nothing was helping. You could feel the slip and slide of your slick between the meat of your inner thighs. 

“Not yet. Trust me, honey. I know what’s best for you, don’t I?”

You didn’t say a word, but you watched wide-eyed as he pulled another velveteen drawstring bag from his case. When he opened up the box, you could tell he’d already inspected and cleaned it. All of its wrapping was gone, and the straps were already in place. 

It was a familiar piece. He’d used gags with you before, and nothing brought you more pleasure than allowing his hands and mouth and cock to bring you to your peak over and over again while you mindlessly allowed your shining drool to melt down your neck and onto your tits. When he removed it and allowed you to swallow him, replacing the silicone ball with his warm, softening cock, already emptied of its seed — you’d never come so hard in your life. 

But this was no ball. This was a fat, silicone cock gag. 

“Daddy, please. I’ll be quiet. I promise. Please… No, I’m —” 

“Hey, show me your left hand,” he became very serious. 

In your hand, you held a loud alarm button, your finger over the trigger, ready to press it at any time. When he saw it, checking in with you that you were still in your safe zone, he smiled.

“That’s perfect, baby. Such a good little slut for me. How did I get so lucky?” He kissed your cheek, shining with old and new tears, streaking down your face from overstimulation, and he planted chaste kisses on your quivering lip. You let yourself lean towards his affection, seeking more of his comfort, only to be firmly held back in place with his hand as he wrapped around your cheek.

“Shh, shh. Daddy just wants you to feel so good, baby. Now, open up.”

You stared at him with huge, gleaming doe eyes, tears threatening to run out of the corners of them again. 

When you didn’t immediately comply, he grabbed the nape of your scalp and yanked your head back, not hurting you, but getting your attention. 

“Am I gonna have to bruise that fine fuckin’ ass, huh? Make you walk down the fuckin’ beach with my palm prints all over you?”

“No, Daddy. I’ll be good. I’ll be good,” you gasped when the vibrator started up again as he flipped a switch. The shock made you clench down around it, which jostled the heavy plug, all in a series of mind-numbing chain reactions designed to edge you within an inch of your sanity. 

“I know you will be. Now… open… that… mouth.”

Alex pressed the tip of the gag to your lips and you opened up for him, sucking it into your lips just like his cock. He pushed it all the way in and it almost landed in the back of your throat. Any further and you wouldn’t be able to breathe. It was a perfect fit. 

Then, slowly, almost painfully so, he pulled it back out, staring into your eyes and seeing what you needed. 

“Go on, baby. I know you wanna suck it for me. Show me.”

You wrapped your lips around it again, and as he held it in place, you bobbed your head up and down, your tongue lapping at the head of his toy. You made sure to look straight into his eyes as you used your mouth on it, letting your spit coat the silicone and drip onto his fist. 

He removed his hand from your head and pet your hair gently, smoothing it away from your face.

“My poor, hungry little whore. Let’s fill you up, hm?”

Your protests became warped into a garbled whine as Alex pressed the toy all the way into your mouth, making sure it was flush and, before you knew it, you were being latched into the gag. The cock you were sucking was now perched at the farthest edge of your tongue, the soft head pressing into your palate, threatening to choke you. 

Alex bent his neck to kiss your mouth as your lips stretched around the toy, smiling as he turned his attention back to his phone. He turned the vibrator down to a medium rumble and removed himself from your cuddling position to stand near the edge of the pool chair. 

“C’mere, baby. Lemme show you somethin’,” your adoring husband held out his hand and you struggled to stand with him, stumbling on shaking legs. 

He walked you over to the tall dividing wall between your suite and the popular beach, each step making the toys thrust up inside of you as you swayed your hips. Your weakness and the unevenness of the ground made your footing jerky and chaotic, adding to the creamy, lurid jostling happening inside of you. The pressure from the anal plug was so satisfying, and your vibrator teased your most sensitive spot, deep within you, just like a curling finger. Without your thong, you know your vibrator would have slipped out of you on your journey. You had never been so wet, and the way the toy was wriggling inside of your hole was making you dizzy. 

Finally, you made it to the wall and used it to support yourself, squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some relief. Alex pointed down to the beach, showing you the little umbrellas and towels full of soldiers on shore leave, all oblivious to your torture.

“Put your hands on the wall, spread your legs apart, and don’t move them until I tell you to. Hold up a two if you understand me.”

You held up a two with your hand and then placed both of your palms on the wall, gripping it for dear life, feeling the long thread of your tangled orgasm beginning to unravel. Alex nudged your legs even wider, changing the angle of the toys within your body. The vibe buzzed away deep within you, faithfully held in place by your tight thong. 

Then, you felt the familiar loosening of your bathing suit top as Alex yanked out the bow you had tied, letting the small fabric flutter away, revealing your breasts to the soft breeze. If any of the partying soldiers got too curious and decided to study you from below, they’d surely be able to see your dark nipples as they tightened on your tits, unbelievably sensitive in your current predicament. 

You whined, and Alex shushed you, 

“Shh, baby. I know. What if they see? That’s why you need to be nice and quiet for Daddy, hm? Wouldn’t want to attract any visitors, now would we? Now…” He grabbed your hips, his thumbs digging into the v-shaped strap of your thong, “Suck that cock for me while Daddy plays with his toys.”

You tried to focus on his instructions, but you couldn’t bear the anticipation. What was he about to do to you? You let your eyes wander back towards him, trying to prepare for whatever came next.

A rough hand came around to grab you by the jaw,

“What did I say? Show me how you swallow that dick, honey, or I’ll make you scream so they can all watch you do it.”

You nodded as best you could, trying to show him you could be a good girl for him, and you experimented a little, swallowing in an exaggerated rhythm, feeling the gag sliding back and forth through your mouth as your throat moved. It made you drool a bit, the spit pooling at the ring of your stretched lips, running down your chin. 

“That’s it,” Alex praised you, rubbing his clothed cock against your ass from behind, “That’s what I wanna hear. Keep sucking, just like that.”

So, you did. As you swallowed and suckled on the solid shape, it began to feel more and more like the real thing. The ridges of the head, the pronounced veins of the body; it was all contributing to the absolute mindrot you were already experiencing. You let the cock fuck your mouth, using the tension of your tongue to mimic the feeling, allowing your thoughts to dissipate in favor of the sparkling blissed your husband had promised you. 

Alex kept his crotch jammed against the cleft of your ass, forcing you to feel his hard shaft as it rolled against you, reaching around your body to softly pluck at your nipples. 

At the first touch of his fingertips, you gasped, sucking in air through your nose, nearly losing your footing. His hands mirrored each other, rubbing feather-light circles around your pebbled skin, petting your heavy breasts with the palms of his hands. He was fire and ice, at one point squeezing your flesh cruelly and pinching you hard enough to make you cry out through the muffle of the gag, and then sweet as could be, stroking and petting you like a scared bunny. 

You weren’t sure of the concept of time. It could have been only seconds that he played with you like this, or perhaps an hour had gone by. You just knew that your lover wanted to hear your hungry suckling sounds and to touch your swaying breasts. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. 

Then, he pulled the other string at your back, letting your top fall to the ground. 

You missed his touch immediately, turning your head to look back at him, questioning his choices. It was the wrong move. You knew he would take care of you, but your fervor made you selfish and doubtful. 

You faced the ocean again, watching the soldiers as you swallowed against the dick in your mouth, ignoring the obvious lines of spit hanging from your mouth. Alex came around to the wall and perched himself against it. After watching you for a few moments, he took his hand and wiped your mouth, smearing your own spit all over your tits, wetting your nipples so that the cool air could tease them. 

Then, right in front of you, he unbuttoned his fly and took his cock from his pants. He began to stroke it in a languid, lazy pattern, slathering his precome over his immense head and down his shaft. Surprisingly, the cock gag made you hungrier for the real thing, and you eyed him like a prize. 

“I want to make sure you’re really enjoying this vacation, baby. I planned it all for you. Are you having fun?”

You nodded enthusiastically, knowing he was leading up to something threatening. You loved him like this. And he loved you when you were fully under his command. Under his care. All for him. His plaything. 

“I’m about to look and see how much fun you’re having…” He let his fat cock hang and walked around to your rear, “Are you ready for me to see the pretty little mess you made, darlin’?”

You nodded again, steeling yourself for what was coming. 

He placed his hand at the very middle of your thong and pulled up on it instead of down, cramming the toys inside of you deeper than they had been, making you writhe and whine, losing control of your legs, feeling them trembling, barely able to hold you up. 

He let go. You breathed as deeply as you could, feeling like the cock in your mouth was growing down your throat, wishing you could scream in earnest. 

Then, he rolled down your bottoms until your spread thighs stopped them, your ass and pussy now on full display.

He hummed with pleasure, and you heard his pants fall to the ground, rustling in the grass and pooling around your husband’s ankles. 

Suddenly, fingers began to tug at the plug in your ass, pulling it in an undulating pattern against your muscular ring, making you feel like you were being fucked by a thick cock. Then, he applied even pressure, and removed it, letting your hole clench around nothing for a moment before teasing you with the rounded tip. Alex let it fuck you shallowly for a while, pressing it forward only a few inches at a time, barely applying any pressure at all. Until he put it back in. He stretched you again, and you realized that since you’d become all too comfortable at the thin, flat base, and you hadn’t had a chance to get accustomed to the insane girth; it was as if you were starting from scratch. 

You rolled your hips, trying to ease the pressure, and he rolled the toy with you, playing with you like a lion plays with its food, batting you around, helpless to his power. 

The vibrator was flailing inside of your pussy at top speed, pulsing and rumbling loud enough for you to hear the mechanical whir. And every time he pushed the plug back inside of you, the tone of it would change. Your body was making music for him, and you couldn’t help it one bit. 

“Beautiful…” You could hear the smile on his lips. 

Everything stopped for a moment, but you thought you heard a soft slicking sound, the noise of him jacking off. Then, you felt his fleshy head push its way into your pussy, already filled by the deep vibe. 

You turned around, worried, unable to protest with the cock still deep in your mouth, pinning down your tongue. 

His sunglasses were off, and he was focused on your hole, using your sticky come to coat himself, thrusting shallowly inside of you right beside the vibrator. 

He wasn’t going to fit. You’d never felt so full before. You were already so primed, the audacious lewdness of it all sent you over the edge. You crashed into your orgasm like a runaway train, slamming full force into a wall of sensations. Your skin flushed hot all at once, like an instant fever, and you felt your holes clutch desperately onto anything they could find, squeezing and pulsing and swelling against him. 

You lost your strength to stand, but he held you, carrying your weight like it was nothing. And he kept pushing forward, easing his cock right beside the toy, holding it steady inside of you. 

“There she is. You’re doing so well for me, baby. Daddy’s perfect little hole.” 

Once he was fully sheathed within you, you both sighed raggedly, melting into the feeling like molten glass in a kiln. Below you, the soldiers laughed, running through the shallow water, having the time of their lives. 

Alex began to fuck you with very little heed for your well-being. You had your button, you could press it at any time, and out of all of his fun toy box prizes, you’d not once felt like anything had been beyond your abilities. But, now, as his cock made room for itself in your tight walls, you wondered if you could take it. 

You understood size queens, the girls who insisted on girthy, long phalluses and who refused to settle for less. You knew why they insisted, now. Your g-spot was lit up like a beacon. There was no waiting to feel his cockhead rub lightly against it. No, it was on and it stayed on because of the terrible girth of both the toy and his dick. You were coming not in waves, but in some sort of constant stream. There was no start and stop to your orgasms; you were given no let down on their end nor warning on their beginning. You were just kept in a hot, milky, perpetual state of bliss that made your eyes roll back into your head. 

The plug in your ass began to come out of you as you came. He was pulling against it, prying it from you until it popped free. You knew you were gaping open for him because when he explored the empty hole with his fingers, you could tell how pliant and soft your body was now that it had been so deeply filled. 

“My good girl. Taking everything her Daddy gives her today.”

Alex praised you, but you didn’t respond. Your mind was a blank slate. All you could do was tumble further down the winding path of your own pleasure. 

You felt him pull himself free from the grip of your pussy, gasping from the relief. He slipped the vibrator out of you, too, switching it off and discarding it somewhere. Then, you were empty. So empty that it felt like grief. And you cried out for his help as much as you could around the gag. 

“C’mere, honey. On your knees for Daddy.”

You fell to the ground limply, turning toward him for guidance, for any sort of reprieve. 

He looked down at you with so much love and admiration, bending to kiss your forehead and removing your gag. 

“So good. Such an obedient slut. I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“But, Daddy, you didn’t come, yet.” You pawed at his hips, rubbing his belly and reaching for his chest, stretching yourself to try and give yourself back to him.

“Today’s not about me, baby,” he smiled sweetly at you, but you weren’t having it. 

His cock was pink and flagging, practically dripping with precome, ready to burst. You reached for it, feeding it into your sore mouth, sucking it down like you’d been practicing on the gag. It was too big, but you pushed through it, swallowing and swallowing until you couldn’t breathe, hollowing out your cheeks to make your mouth into a warm wet sleeve for him. 

“Baby… oh, shit. Ungh! Holy hell.”

Without any further hesitation, he began to fuck your throat, shoving himself deeper and deeper, controlling your head and moving himself within you like a piston. You let yourself go limp again, allowing the pornographic slurping sounds of your rough-fucked mouth to be as loud and as messy as he wanted them to, abandoning your shame. You rubbed yourself with your hand, shoving your fingers into your soaked pussy, and playing with your clit, already sensitive enough to come again. 

He had trained you so well. This was your moment to shine. 

You came with him, looking up into the twisted agony on his face as he filled your belly with his load, trying to pull away to let you breathe, leaving a trail of thick spend all along your tongue and cheeks, your mouth full of him by the time he slid away from you. 

You made sure he was looking down at you when you spit him into your hands, letting his milk pool in your palms, rubbing him all over your puffy nipples and down between your swollen petals, pushing him into your pussy with your fingers only to return to your breasts to smear him around like a salve. As he watched you in excitement and a wild disbelief, his gaze darkened, and he wrapped his hand around your throat, bending down so that you could hear the rough growl in the timbre of his voice,

“Oh, baby. You just bought yourself round two.”

AO3 Link

Also, @glitterypirateduck - are we still in vacation mode?? 😅🩷